In a cold climate and wintry weather, the grand impediment to

ventilating rooms by opening doors or windows is the dangerous currents

thus produced, which are so injurious to the delicate ones that for

their sake it can not be done. Then, also, as a matter of economy, the

poor can not afford to practice a method which carries off the heat

generated by their stinted store of fuel. Even in a warm season and

climate, there are frequent periods when the air without is damp and

chilly, and yet at nearly the same temperature as that in the house.

At such times even the opening of windows often has little effect in

emptying a room of vitiated air.

The most successful mode of ventilating a house is by creating a

current of warm air in a flue, into which an opening is made at both

the top and the bottom of a room, to carry off the impure air, while

a similar opening to admit outside air is made at the opposite side

of the room. This is the mode employed in chemical laboratories for

removing smells and injurious gases.

These statements give some idea of the evils to be remedied. But

the most difficult point is _how_ to secure the remedy; for often

the attempt to secure pure air by one class of persons brings

chills, colds, and disease on another class, from mere ignorance or

mismanagement.

To illustrate this, it must be borne in mind that those who live in

warm, close, and unventilated rooms are much more liable to take cold

from exposure to draughts and cold air than those of vigorous vitality

accustomed to breathe pure air.

Thus the strong and healthy husband, feeling the want of pure air in

the night, and knowing its importance, keeps windows open, and makes

such draughts that the wife, who lives all day in a close room and thus

is low in vitality, can not bear the change, has colds, and sometimes

perishes a victim to wrong modes of ventilation.

So, even in health-establishments, the patients will pass most of their

days and nights in badly-ventilated rooms. But at times the physician,

or some earnest patient, insists on a mode of ventilation that brings

more evil than good to the delicate inmates.

The grand art of ventilating houses is by some method that will empty

rooms of the vitiated air and bring in a supply of pure air _by small

and imperceptible currents_.

But this important duty of a Christian woman is one that demands

more science, care, and attention than almost any other; and yet, to

prepare her for this duty has never been any part of female education.

Young women are taught to draw mathematical diagrams and to solve

astronomical problems; but few, if any, of them are taught to solve the

problem of a house constructed to secure pure and moist air by day and

night for all its inmates by safe methods.

We have seen the process through which the air is rendered unhealthful

by close rooms and want of ventilation. Every person inspires air

about twenty times each minute, using half a pint each time. At this

rate, every pair of lungs vitiates one hogshead of air every hour. The

membrane that lines the multitudinous air-cells of the lungs in which

the capillaries are, should it be united in one sheet, would cover

the floor of a room twelve feet square. Every breath brings a surface

of air in contact with this extent of capillaries, by which the air

inspired gives up most of its oxygen and receives carbonic acid in its

stead. These facts furnish a guide for the proper ventilation of rooms.

Just in proportion to the number of persons in a room or a house should

be the amount of air brought in and carried out by arrangements for

ventilation. But how rarely is this rule regarded in building houses or

in the care of families by housekeepers!

As a guide to proportioning the air admitted and discharged to the

number of persons, we have the following calculation: On an average,

every adult vitiates about half a pint of air at each inspiration, and

inspires twenty times a minute. This would amount to one hogshead of

air vitiated every hour by every grown person. To keep the air pure,

this amount should enter and be carried out every hour for each person.

If, then, ten persons assemble in a dining-room, ten hogsheads of air

should enter and ten be discharged each hour. By the same rule, a

gathering of five hundred persons demands the entrance and discharge

of five hundred hogsheads of air every hour, and a thousand persons

require a thousand hogsheads of air every hour.

Therefore in calculating the size of registers and conductors, we must

have reference to the number of persons who are to abide in a dwelling;

while for rooms or halls intended for large gatherings a far greater

allowance must be made.

The most successful arrangement for both warming and ventilation, is

that employed by Lewis Leeds to ventilate the military hospitals,

and also the treasury building at Washington. It is modeled strictly

after the mode adopted by the Creator in warming and ventilating the

earth, the home of his great earthly family. It aims to have a passage

of pure air through every room, as the breezes pass over the hills,

and to have a method of warming chiefly by radiation, as the earth is

warmed by the sun. In addition to this, the air is to be provided with

moisture, as it is supplied outdoors by exhalations from the earth and

its trees and plants.

The mode of accomplishing this is by placing coils of steam, or

hot-water pipes, under windows, which warm the parlor walls and

furniture, partly by radiation, and partly by the air warmed on

the heated surfaces of the coils. At the same time, by regulating

registers, or by simply opening the lower part of the window, the

pure air, guarded from immediate entrance into the room, is admitted

directly upon the coils, so that it is partially warmed before it

spreads through the room; and thus cold draughts are prevented. Then

the vitiated air is drawn off through registers both at the top and

bottom of the room, opening into a heated exhausting-flue, through

which the constantly ascending current of warm air carries it off.

These heated coils are often used for warming houses without any

arrangement for carrying off the vitiated air, when, of course, their

usefulness is gone.

The moisture may be supplied by a broad vessel placed on or close to

the heated coils, giving a large surface for evaporation. When rooms

are warmed chiefly by radiated heat, the air can be borne much cooler

than in rooms warmed by hot-air furnaces, just as a person in the

radiating sun can bear much cooler air than in the shade. A time will

come when walls and floors will be contrived to radiate heat instead of

absorbing it from the occupants of houses, as is generally the case at

the present time, and then all can breathe pure and cool air.

We are now prepared to examine more in detail the modes of warming and

ventilation employed in the dwellings planned for this work.

In doing this, it should be remembered that the aim is not to give

plans of houses to suit the architectural taste or the domestic

convenience of persons who intend to keep several servants, and care

little whether they breathe pure or bad air, nor of persons who do not

wish to educate their children to manual industry or to habits of close

economy.

On the contrary, the aim is, first, to secure a house in which every

room shall be perfectly ventilated both day and night, and that too

without the watchful care and constant attention and intelligence

needful in houses not provided with a proper and successful mode of

ventilation.

The next aim is, to arrange the conveniences of domestic labor so as to

save time, and also to render such work less repulsive than it is made

by common methods, so that children can be trained to love house-work.

And lastly, economy of expense in house-building is sought. These

things should be borne in mind in examining the plans of this work.

In the dwelling-house, chap, ii., part ii., Fig. 7, a cast-iron pipe

is made in sections, which are to be united, and the whole fastened at

top and bottom in the centre of the warm-air flue by ears extending

to the bricks, and fastened when the flue is in process of building.

Projecting openings to receive the pipes of the furnace, the laundry

stove, and two stoves in each story, should be provided in this

cast-iron pipe, which must be closed when not in use. A large opening

is to be made into the warm-air flue, and through this the kitchen

stove-pipe is to pass, and be joined to the cast-iron chimney-pipe.

Thus the smoke of the kitchen stove will warm the iron chimney-pipe,

and this will warm the air of the flue, causing a current upward,

and this current will draw the heat and smells of cooking out of the

kitchen into the opening of the warm-air flue. Every room surrounding

the chimney has an opening at the top and bottom into the warm-air flue

for ventilation, as also have the bath-room and water-closets.

The pure air for rooms on the ground-floor is to be introduced by a

wooden conductor one foot square, running under the floor from the

front door to the stove-room, with cross branches to the two large

rooms. The pure air passes through this, protected outside by wire

netting, and delivered inside through registers in each room, as

indicated in Fig. 7.

In case open Franklin stoves are used in the large rooms, the pure air

from the conductor should enter behind them, and thus be partially

warmed. The vitiated air is carried off at the bottom of the room

through the open stoves, and also at the top by a register opening

into a conductor to the exhausting warm-air shaft, which, it will be

remembered, is the square chimney, containing the iron pipe which

receives the kitchen stove-pipe. The stove-room receives pure air from

the conductor, and sends off impure air and the smells of cooking by a

register opening directly into the exhausting shaft; while its hot air

and smoke, passing through the iron pipe, heat the air of the shaft,

and produce the exhausting current.

The large chambers on the second floor (Fig. 18) have pure air

conducted from the stove-room through registers that can be closed if

the heat or smells of cooking are unpleasant. The air in the stove-room

will always be moist from the water of the stove boiler.

The small chambers have pure air admitted from windows sunk at top half

an inch; and the warm, vitiated air is conducted by a register in the

ceiling which opens into a conductor to the exhausting warm-air shaft

at the centre of the house, as shown in Fig. 23.

The basement or cellar is ventilated by an opening into the exhausting

air-shaft, to remove impure air, and a small opening over each glazed

door to admit pure air. The doors open out into a “well,” or recess,

excavated in the earth before the cellar, for the admission of light

and air, neatly bricked up and whitewashed. The doors are to be made

entirely of strong, thick glass sashes, and this will give light enough

for laundry work—the tubs and ironing-table being placed closed to the

glazed door. The floor must be plastered with water-lime, and the walls

and ceiling be whitewashed, which will add reflected light to the room.

There will thus be no need of other windows, and the house need not be

raised above the ground. Several cottages have been built thus, so that

the ground-floors and conservatories are nearly on the same level; and

all agree that they are pleasanter than when raised higher.

When a window in any room is sunk at the top, it should have a narrow

shelf in front inclined to the opening, so as to keep out the rain. In

small chambers for one person, an inch opening is sufficient, and in

larger rooms for two persons a two-inch opening is needed. The openings

into the exhausting-air flue should vary from eight inches to twelve

inches square, or more, according to the number of persons who are to

sleep in the room.

The time when ventilation is most difficult is the medium weather in

spring and fall, when the air, though damp, is similar in temperature

outside and in. Then the warm-air flue is indispensable to proper

ventilation. This is especially needed in a room used for school or

church purposes.

Every room should have its air regulated not only as to its warmth and

purity, but also as to its supply of moisture; and for this purpose

will be found very convenient the instrument called the hygrodeik,[2]

which shows at once the temperature and the moisture.

[2] It is manufactured by N. M. Lowe, Boston, and sold by him and J.

Queen & Co., Philadelphia.

The preceding remarks illustrate the advantages of the cottage plan in

respect to healthful ventilation. The economy of the mode of warming

next demands attention. In the first place, it should be noted that

the chimney being at the centre of the house, no heat is lost by its

radiation through outside walls into open air, as is the case with all

fire-places and grates that have their backs and flues joined to an

outside wall.

In this plan all the radiated heat from the stove serves to warm the

walls of adjacent rooms in cold weather; while in the warm season

the non-conducting summer casings of the stove described in the next

chapter send all the heat either into the exhausting warm-air shaft or

into the central cast-iron pipe. In addition, the sliding doors of the

stove-room (which should be only six feet high, meeting the partition

coming from the ceiling), can be opened in cool days, and then the

heat from the stove would temper the rooms each side of the kitchen.

In hot weather they could be kept closed, except when the stove is

used, and then opened only for a short time. The Franklin stoves in

the large room would give the radiating warmth and cheerful blaze of

an open fire, while radiating heat also from all their surfaces.

In cold weather the air of the larger chambers could be tempered by

registers admitting warm air from the stove-room, which would always be

sufficiently moistened by evaporation from the stationary boiler. The

conservatories in winter, protected from frost by double sashes, would

contribute agreeable moisture to the larger rooms. In case the size of

a family required more rooms, another story could be ventilated and

warmed by the same mode, with little additional expense.

We will next notice the economy of time, labor, and expense secured by

this cottage plan. The laundry work being done in the basement, all the

cooking, dish-washing, etc., can be done in the kitchen and stove-room

on the ground-floor. But in case a larger kitchen is needed, the

lounges can be put in the front part of the large room, and the movable

screen placed so as to give a work-room adjacent to the kitchen, and

the front side of the same be used for the eating-room. Where the

movable screen is used, the floor should be oiled wood. A square piece

of carpet can be put in the centre of the front part of the room, to

keep the feet warm when sitting around the table, and small rugs can be

placed before the lounges or other sitting-places, for the same purpose.

Most cottages are so divided by entries, stairs, closets, etc., that

there can be no large rooms. But in this plan, by the use of the

movable screen, two fine large rooms can be secured whenever the family

work is over, while the conveniences for work will very much lessen the

time required.

In certain cases, where the closest economy is needful, two small

families can occupy the cottage, by having a movable screen in both

rooms, and using the kitchen in common, or divide it and have two

smaller stoves. Each kitchen will then have a window, and as much room

as is given to the kitchen in great steamers that provide for several

hundred.

Whoever plans a house with a view to economy must arrange rooms around

a central chimney, and avoid all projecting appendages. Dormer-windows

are far more expensive than common ones, and are less pleasant. Every

addition projecting from a main building greatly increases expense of

building, and still more of warming and ventilating.

It should be introduced, as one school exercise in every female

seminary, to plan houses with reference to economy of time, labor,

and expense, and also with reference to good architectural taste;

and the teacher should be qualified to point out faults and give the

instruction needed to prevent such mistakes in practical life. Every

girl should be trained to be “a wise woman” that “buildeth her house”

aright.

There is but one mode of ventilation yet tried that will, at all

seasons of the year and all hours of the day and night, secure pure air

without dangerous draughts, and that is by an exhausting warm-air flue.

This is always secured by an open fire-place, so long as its chimney is

kept warm by any fire. And in many cases, a fire-place with a flue of

a certain dimension and height will secure good ventilation, _except_

when the air without and within is at the same temperature.

When no exhausting warm-air flue can be used, the opening of doors and

windows is the only resort. Every sleeping-room _without a fire-place

that draws smoke well_ should have a window raised at the bottom or

sunk at the top at least an inch, with an inclined shelf outside or

in, to keep out rain, and then it is properly ventilated, provided

the air outside is colder than the inside air—but not otherwise. Or a

door should be kept opened into a hall with an open window. Let the

bed-clothing be increased, so as to keep warm in bed, and protect the

head also, and then the more air comes into a sleeping-room the better

for health.

In reference to the warming of rooms and houses already built, there

is no doubt that stoves are the most economical mode, as they radiate

heat and also warm by convection. The grand objection to their use is

the difficulty of securing proper ventilation. If a room is well warmed

by a stove, and then several small openings made for the entrance of a

good supply of outdoor air, and by a mode that will prevent dangerous

draughts, all is right as to pure air. But in this case the feet are

always on cold floors, surrounded by the coldest air, while the head is

in air of much higher temperature.

The writer believes that ere long the common mode of warming by

furnaces will be banished as most pernicious to health, and constant

sources of discomfort and economic waste. The reasons for this demand

reference to some of the principles of pneumatics.

It has been shown how the air is heated by _convection_, or changing

contact. It is thus the atmosphere is warmed, not by the rays of the

sun passing through it, but by contact with the earth and other objects

which have been warmed by radiated heat from the sun. The lower stratum

of air being thus warmed, becomes lighter, and ascends, giving place to

the cooler and heavier air. This process continues, so that the warmest

air is always nearest the earth, and grows cooler as height increases.

The air has a strong attraction for water, and always holds a certain

quantity as an invisible vapor. The warmer the air the more water it

demands, and will draw it from all objects it can reach. When air

cools, it deposits its invisible moisture as dew. When the air has all

the water it can hold, it is said to be _saturated_; and when it cools

so as to begin to deposit moisture, it is called the _dew point_.

When air holds all the moisture it can sustain, its moisture is said

to be at 100 per cent.; when it holds only one-half as much as its

temperature demands, it is said to be at 50 per cent.; and when it

holds three-fourths of what its temperature requires, it is at 75 per

cent.; and when only one-fourth, it holds 25 per cent.

In summer, outdoor air rarely holds less than half its _volume_ of

water; that is, a quart of air usually holds as much as a pint of

invisible vapor. In 1838, at Harvard and Yale, at 70° Fahrenheit, the

air held 80 per cent. of moisture; at New Orleans it often holds 90

per cent.; at the North, in fogs, the air often holds all it can, or

is saturated—that is, holding 100 per cent. Thus it appears that the

hotter the air, the more water is demanded by it for invisible vapor,

and this it takes from all around.

Professor Bremer, of Yale College, states that 40 per cent. of moisture

is needed to make air healthful. Now furnaces receive cold air

containing little invisible moisture, and by heating it a demand is

created for much more. This is sucked up, as by a sponge, from walls

and furniture, and especially from the lungs and capillaries of our

bodies, thus causing dryness and sometimes inflammation of lips, nose,

eyes, throat, and lungs. Experiments prove that while 40 per cent. of

moisture is needed for health, furnace-heated air rarely has as much

as 20 per cent., even when a few quarts of water are evaporated in the

furnace chamber. Thus the inmates of the house breathe dryer air than

is ever breathed in the hottest deserts of Sahara.

Thus, for want of proper instruction, most American housekeepers who

use stoves and furnaces not only poison their families with carbonic

acid and carbonic oxide, and starve them for want of oxygen, but also

diminish health and comfort for want of a due supply of moisture in

the air. And often when a remedy is sought, by evaporating water in

the furnace, or on the stove, it is without knowing that the amount

evaporated depends, not on the quantity of water in the vessel, but on

the extent of evaporating surface exposed to the air. A quart of water

in a wide shallow pan will give more moisture than two gallons with a

small surface exposed to heat.

There is also no little wise economy in keeping a proper supply of

moisture in the air. For it is found that the body radiates its heat

less in moist than in dry air, so that a person feels as warm at a

lower temperature when the air has a proper supply of moisture, as in

a much higher temperature of dry air. Of course, less fuel is needed

to warm a house when water is evaporated in stove and furnace-heated

rooms. It is said by those who have experimented, that the saving in

fuel is twenty per cent. when the air is duly supplied with moisture.

There are other difficulties connected with furnaces which should be

considered.

The human body is constantly radiating its heat to walls, floors, and

cooler bodies around. At the same time, a thermometer is affected in

the same way, radiating its heat to cooler bodies around, so that it

always marks a lower degree of heat than actually exists in the warm

air around it. Owing to these facts, the injected air of a furnace is

always warmer than is good for the lungs, and much warmer than is ever

needed in rooms warmed by radiation from fires or heated surfaces. The

cooler the air we inspire, the more oxygen is received, the faster

the blood circulates, and the greater is the vigor imparted to brain,

nerves, and muscles.

Every woman ought to know all the dangers connected with furnaces and

how to remedy them. The following may aid in this duty:

When a furnace does not draw well, it often is owing to the stoppage

by fine ashes or soot, and then the smoke-flues must be cleaned. The

fewer and more simple the smoke-flues the less this trouble will occur.

Sometimes the shaking of a furnace makes cracks in joints, and this

causes outflow of gas and also diminishes the draught.

When iron is very hot, it burns the particles floating in the air,

making an unpleasant smell and dryness. A large furnace, therefore, is

better than a small one that must be kept very hot.

Water should be evaporated in large surfaces, and so as to deposit dew

on windows.

Heated air passes off by the shortest courses, and it is often the case

that the more distant rooms thus warmed have no ventilation and little

renewal from the furnace air, and this is often shown by a fetid smell.

Furnaces where air is heated in the furnace-chamber by coils of steam

or by hot water, though costing more at first, require much less fuel,

and do not involve the evils of warming by hot iron.

The safest and pleasantest way of warming a dwelling is by steam-coils,

provided there are fire-places or hot-air flues to carry off bad air.

Without these, this is the most unhealthful mode of all, as there is

no fresh air brought in, and what is heated is breathed over and over,

till it is poisonous.

The want of care in regulating the dampers of the airbox often makes a

house cold, however great the furnace fire. A strong wind requires the

dampers nearly closed, especially when it is on the side where the air

enters from without. Every furnace should be supplied, not by cellar

air, but by air taken through a shaft from a height, and so more pure.

Remember that an open fire, or an opening into a hot-air flue, will

ventilate properly in all seasons and all weathers. The opening should

be at both the top and bottom of the room.

CHAPTER V.

ON STOVES AND CHIMNEYS.

The simplest mode of warming a house and cooking food is by radiated

heat from fires; but this is the most wasteful method, as respects

time, labor, and expense. The most convenient, economical, and

labor-saving mode of employing heat is by _convection_, as applied

in stoves and furnaces; but for want of proper care and scientific

knowledge this method has proved very destructive to health. When

warming and cooking were done by open fires, houses were well supplied

with pure air, as is rarely the case in rooms heated by stoves; for

such is the prevailing ignorance on this subject, that as long as

stoves save labor and warm the air, the great majority of people,

especially among the ignorant, will use them in ways that involve

debilitated constitutions and frequent disease.

The most common modes of cooking, where open fires are relinquished,

are by the range and the cooking-stove. The range is inferior to the

stove in these respects: it is less economical, demanding much more

fuel; it endangers the dress of the cook while standing near for

various operations; it requires more stooping than the stove while

cooking; it will not keep a fire all night, as do the best stoves; it

will not burn wood and coal equally well; and lastly, if it warms the

kitchen sufficiently in winter, it is too warm for summer. Some prefer

it because the fumes of cooking can be carried off; but stoves properly

arranged accomplish this equally well.

After extensive inquiry and many personal experiments, the author has

found a cooking-stove constructed on true scientific principles, which

unites convenience, comfort, and economy, in a remarkable manner; and

this is the one referred to in the kitchen of the cottage described in

Chapter IV. Of this stove drawings and descriptions will now be given,

as the best mode of illustrating the practical applications of these

principles to the art of cooking, and to show how much American women

have suffered, and how much they have been imposed upon for want of

proper knowledge in this branch of their profession. And every woman

can understand what follows with much less effort than young girls at

high-schools give to the first problems of Geometry—for which they will

never have any practical use, while attention to this problem of home

affairs will cultivate the intellect quite as much as the abstract

reasonings of Algebra and Geometry.

[Illustration: Fig. 36.]

Fig. 36 represents a portion of the interior of this cooking-stove.

First, notice the fire-box, which has corrugated (literally, wrinkled)

sides, by which space is economized, so that as much heating surface is

secured as if they were one-third larger; for the heat radiates from

every part of the undulating surface, which is one-third greater in

superficial extent than if it were plane. The shape of the fire-box

also secures more heat by having oblique sides—which radiate more

effectively into the oven beneath than if they were perpendicular, as

illustrated by Figs. 37 and 38. It is also sunk into the oven, so as

to radiate from three instead of from two sides. In most other stoves,

the front of the fire-boxes with their grates are built so as to be the

front of the stove itself, and radiate outward chiefly.

[Illustration: Fig. 37. Model Stove.]

[Illustration: Fig. 38. Ordinary Stove.]

The oven is the space under and around the back and front sides of the

fire-box. The oven-bottom is not introduced in the diagram, but it is

a horizontal plate between the fire-box and what is represented as the

“flue-plate,” which separates the oven from the bottom of the stove.

The top of the oven is the horizontal corrugated plate passing from

the rear edge of the fire-box to the back flues. These flues are three

in number—the back centre-flue, which is closed to the heat and smoke

coming over the oven from the fire-box by a damper, and the two back

corner-flues. Down these two corner-flues passes the current of hot

air and smoke, having first drawn across the corrugated oven-top. The

arrows show its descent through these flues, from which it obliquely

strikes and passes over the flue-plate, then under it, and then out

through the centre back-flue, which is open at the bottom, up into the

smoke-pipe.

The flue-plate is placed obliquely, to accumulate heat by forcing

and compression; for the back space where the smoke enters from the

corner-flues is largest, and decreases toward the front, so that the

hot current is compressed in a narrow space, between the oven-bottom

and the flue-plate at the place where the bent arrows are seen. Here

again it enters a wider space, under the flue-plate, and proceeds to

another narrow one, between the flue-plate and the bottom of the stove,

and thus is compressed and retained longer than if not impeded by

these various contrivances. The heat and smoke also strike the plate

obliquely, and thus, by reflection from its surface, impart more heat

than if the passage was a horizontal one.

The external radiation is regulated by the use of non-conducting

plaster applied to the flue-plate and to the sides of the corner-flues,

so that the heat is prevented from radiating in any direction except

toward the oven. The doors, sides, and bottom of the stove are lined

with tin casings, which hold a stratum of air which is a non-conductor.

These casings are so arranged as to be removed whenever the weather

becomes cold, so that the heat may then radiate into the kitchen. The

outer edges of the oven are also similarly protected from loss of heat

by tin casings and air-spaces, and the oven doors opening at the front

of the stove are provided with the same economical savers of heat. High

tin covers placed on the top prevent the heat from radiating from the

top of the stove. These are exceedingly useful, as the space under them

is well heated and arranged for baking, for heating irons, and many

other incidental necessities. Cake and pies can be baked on the top,

while the oven is used for bread or for meats. When all the casings

and covers are on, almost all the heat is confined within the stove;

and whenever heat for the room is wanted, opening the front oven doors

turns it out into the kitchen.

Another contrivance is that of ventilating-holes in the front doors,

through which fresh air is brought into the oven. This secures several

purposes: it carries off the fumes of cooking meats, and prevents the

mixing of flavors when different articles are cooked in the oven; it

drives the heat that accumulates between the fire-box and front doors

down around the oven, and equalizes its heat, so that articles need not

be moved while baking; and lastly, as the air passes through the holes

of the fire-box, it causes the burning of gases in the smoke, and thus

increases heat. When wood or bituminous coal is used, perforated metal

linings are put in the fire-box, and the result is the burning of smoke

and gases that otherwise would pass into the chimney. This is a great

discovery in the economy of fuel, which can be applied in many ways.

Heretofore most cooking-stoves have had dumping-grates, which are

inconvenient from the dust produced, are uneconomical in the use of

fuel, and disadvantageous from too many or too loose joints. But

recently this stove has been provided with a dumping-grate which

also will sift ashes, and can be cleaned without dust and the other

objectionable features of most dumping-grates.

Those who are taught to manage the stove properly keep the fire going

all night, and equally well with wood or coal, thus saving the expense

of kindling and the trouble of starting a new fire. When the fuel is

of good quality, all that is needed in the morning is to draw the

back-damper, shake the grate, and add more fuel.

Another remarkable feature of this stove is the extension-top, on

which is placed a water reservoir, constantly heated by the smoke as

it passes from the stove, through one or two uniting passages, to the

smoke-pipe. Under this is placed a closet for warming and keeping hot

the dishes, vegetables, meats, etc., while preparing for dinner. It is

also very useful in drying fruit; and when large baking is required, a

small appended pot for charcoal turns it into a fine large oven, that

bakes as nicely as a brick oven.

Another useful appendage is a common tin oven, in which roasting can

be done in front of the stove, the oven doors being removed for the

purpose. The roast will be done as perfectly as by an open fire.

This stove is furnished with pipes for heating water, like the

water-back of ranges, and these can be taken or left out at pleasure.

So also the top covers, the baking stool and pot, and the summer-back,

bottom, and side-casings can be used or omitted as preferred.

Fig. 39 exhibits the stove completed, with all its appendages, as they

might be employed in cooking for a large family.

Its capacity, convenience, and economy as a stove may be estimated

by the following fact: With proper management of dampers, one

ordinary-sized coal-hod of anthracite coal will, for twenty-four hours,

keep the stove running, keep seventeen gallons of water hot at all

hours, bake pies and puddings in the warm closet, heat flat-irons under

the back cover, boil tea-kettle and one pot under the front cover,

bake bread in the oven, and cook a turkey in the tin roaster in front.

The author has numerous friends who, after trying the best ranges, have

dismissed them for this stove, and in two or three years cleared the

whole expense by the saving of fuel.

[Illustration: Fig. 39.]

The remarkable durability of this stove is another economic feature;

for, in addition to its fine castings and nice-fitting workmanship, all

the parts liable to burn out are so protected by linings, and other

contrivances easily renewed, that the stove itself may pass from one

generation to another, as do ordinary chimneys. The writer has visited

in families where this stove had been in constant use for eighteen and

twenty years, and was still as good as new. In most other families the

stoves are broken, burned out, or thrown aside for improved patterns

every four, five, or six years, and sometimes, to the knowledge of the

writer, still oftener.

Another excellent point is that, although it is so complicated in its

various contrivances as to demand intelligent management in order to

secure all its advantages, it also can be used satisfactorily even

when the mistress and maid are equally careless and ignorant of its

distinctive merits. To such it offers all the advantages of ordinary

good stoves, and is extensively used by those who take no pains to

understand and apply its peculiar advantages.

But the writer has managed the stove herself in all the details of

cooking, and is confident that any housekeeper of common sense who is

instructed properly, and who also aims to have her kitchen affairs

managed with strict economy, can easily train any servant who is

willing to learn, so as to gain the full advantages offered. And even

without any instructions at all except the printed directions sent

with the stove, an intelligent woman can, by due attention, though

not without, both manage it, and teach her children and servants to

do likewise. And whenever this stove has failed to give the highest

satisfaction, it has been either because the draught of the chimney was

poor, or because the housekeeper was not apprised of its peculiarities,

or because she did not give sufficient attention to the matter, or was

not able or willing to superintend and direct its management.

The consequence has been that, in families where this stove has been

understood and managed aright, it has saved nearly one-half of the

fuel that would be used in ordinary stoves, constructed with the usual

disregard of scientific and economic laws. And it is because we know

this particular stove to be convenient, reliable, and economically

efficient beyond ordinary experience, in the important housekeeping

element of kitchen labor, that we devote to it so much space and pains

to describe its advantageous points.[3]

[3] A letter to the author, inclosing twenty-five cents for expense of

time and correspondence, will secure a circular with further account

and directions for using this stove. Direct—Care of Dr. G. H. Taylor,

New York city.

CHIMNEYS.

One of the most serious evils in domestic life is often found in

chimneys that will not properly draw the smoke of a fire or stove.

Although chimneys have been building for a thousand years, the

artisans of the present day seem strangely ignorant of the true method

of constructing them so as always to carry smoke upward instead of

downward. It is rarely the case that a large house is built in which

there is not some flue or chimney which “will not draw.” One of the

reasons why the stove described as excelling all others is sometimes

cast aside for a poorer one is, that it requires a properly constructed

chimney, and multitudes of women do not know how to secure it. The

writer in early life shed many a bitter tear, drawn forth by smoke from

an ill-constructed kitchen-chimney, and thousands all over the land can

report the same experience.

The following are some of the causes and the remedies for this evil:

The most common cause of poor chimney draughts is too large an opening

for the fire-place, either too wide or too high in front, or having too

large a throat for the smoke. In a lower story, the fire-place should

not be larger than thirty inches wide, twenty-five inches high, and

fifteen deep. In the story above, it should be eighteen inches square

and fifteen inches deep.

Another cause is too short a flue, and the remedy is to lengthen it. As

a general rule, the longer the flue the stronger the draught; but in

calculating the length of a flue, reference must be had to side-flues,

if any open into it. Where this is the case, the length of the main

flue is to be considered as extending only from the bottom to the point

where the upper flue joins it, and where the lower flue will receive

air from the upper side flue. If a smoky flue can not be increased in

length, either by closing an upper flue or lengthening the chimney, the

fire-place must be contracted so that all the air near the fire will be

heated and thus pressed upward.

If a flue has more than one opening, in some cases it is impossible to

secure a good draught. Sometimes it will work well, and sometimes it

will not. The only safe rule is to have a separate flue to each fire.

Another cause of poor draughts is too tight a room, so that the cold

air from without can not enter to press the warm air up the chimney.

The remedy is to admit a small current of air from without.

Another cause is two chimneys in one room, or in rooms opening

together, in which the draught in one is much stronger than in the

other. In this case the stronger draught will draw away from the

weaker. The remedy is, for each room to have a proper supply of outside

air; or, in a single room, to stop one of the chimneys.

Another cause is the too close vicinity of a hill or buildings higher

than the top of the chimney, and the remedy for this is to raise the

chimney.

Another cause is the descent into unused fire-places of smoke from

other chimneys near. The remedy is to close the throat of the unused

chimney.

Another cause is a door opening toward the fire-place on the same side

of the room, so that its draught passes along the wall and makes a

current that draws out the smoke. The remedy is to change the hanging

of the door, so as to open another way.

Another cause is strong winds. The remedy is a turn-cap on top of the

chimney.

Another cause is the roughness of the inside of a chimney, or

projections which impede the passage of the smoke. Every chimney should

be built of equal dimensions from bottom to top, with no projections

into it, with as few bends as possible, and with the surface of the

inside as smooth as possible.

Another cause of poor draughts is openings into the chimney of chambers

for stove-pipes. The remedy is to close them, or insert stove-pipes

that are in use.

Another cause is the falling out of brick in some part of the chimney

so that outer air is admitted. The remedy is to close the opening.

The draught of a stove may be affected by most of these causes. It

also demands that the fire-place have a tight fire-board, or that the

throat be carefully filled. For neglecting this, many a good stove has

been thrown aside and a poor one taken in its place.

If all young women had committed to memory these causes of evil and

their remedies, many a badly-built chimney might have been cured,

and many smoke-drawn tears, sighs, ill tempers, and irritating words

avoided.

But there are dangers in this direction which demand special attention.

Where one flue has two stoves or fire-places, in rooms one above the

other, in certain states of the atmosphere, the lower room being the

warmer, the colder air and carbonic acid in the room above will pass

down into the lower room through the opening for the stove or the

fire-place.

This occurred not long since in a boarding-school, when the gas in a

room above flowed into a lower one, and suffocated several to death.

This room had no mode of ventilation, and several persons slept in

it, and were thus stifled. Professor Brewer states a similar case in

the family of a relative. An anthracite stove was used in the upper

room; and on one still, close night, the gas from this stove descended

through the flue and the opening into a room below, and stifled the

sleepers.

CHAPTER VI.

ECONOMIC MODES OF BEAUTIFYING A HOME.

The educating influence of works of natural beauty and of art can

hardly be overestimated. Surrounded by such suggestions of the

beautiful, and such reminders of history and art, children are

constantly trained to correctness of taste and refinement of thought,

and stimulated—sometimes to efforts at artistic imitation, always to

the eager and intelligent inquiry about the scenes, the places, the

incidents represented.

Just here, perhaps, we are met by some who impatiently exclaim, “But I

have _no_ money to spare for any thing of this sort. I am condemned to

an absolute bareness, and beauty in my case is not to be thought of.”

It is for such that some economic modes of beautifying a home are here

suggested.

[Illustration: Fig. 40.]

The cornices to your windows can be simply strips of wood covered with

paper to match the bordering of your room, and the lambrequins, made

of chintz like the lounge, could be trimmed with fringe or gimp of the

same color. The patterns of these can be varied according to fancy,

but simple designs are usually the prettiest. A tassel at the lowest

point greatly improves the appearance of the entire curtain.

[Illustration: Fig. 41.]

The curtains can be made of plain white muslin, or some of the many

styles that come for this purpose. If plain muslin is used, you can

ornament them with hems an inch in width, in which insert a strip of

gingham or chambray of the same color as your chintz. This will wash

with the curtains without losing its color, or, should it fade, it can

easily be drawn out and replaced.

The influence of white-muslin curtains in giving an air of grace and

elegance to a room is astonishing. White curtains really create a room

out of nothing. No matter how coarse the muslin, so it be white and

hang in graceful folds, there is a charm in it that supplies the want

of multitudes of other things.

The following is a sketch of a most attractive parlor, the owners

being persons of taste and culture, and visited by the most wealthy

and refined class, who are always delighted with its light, comfort,

and beauty. In this parlor is the window, Fig. 40, page 192, with its

lambrequins, and the window covered with flowers and greens, Fig. 41.

A straw matting, used six years, and still good.

Cheap drab-colored rugs, bordered with green, in front of the fire and

under the centre-table. The cheap wall-paper is drab and green, with

heavy green border for cornice. On one side is this window adorned with

creepers, brackets with flower-pots, and hanging-baskets, as at Fig.

41, page 193. The other (see Fig. 40) window has lambrequins made of

an old green worsted dress lined with coarse unbleached cotton trimmed

with green gimp, and the tassels home-made from remnants of the old

green dress. Cheap white lace with broad hems, in which strips of the

green dress are drawn, complete the window outfit.

On one side of the fire-place is a lounge made as illustrated by Fig.

16, page 139; and ottomans around are also made as illustrated in the

same chapter. All are covered with drab cotton cloth, and trimmed with

green.

Six chairs bought unpainted, and by the mistress of the house painted

drab and green. Chromos and engravings in cheap and tasteful frames,

as illustrated in Figs. 42 and 43, adorn the walls, and German ivy and

hanging-baskets of greens and flowers are in all tasteful arrangements.

In cool weather a bright fire of dried walnut invites to a social

gathering around its hospitable gleams, the fire-place being an open

Franklin stove, so placed that its hearth is on a level with the floor,

that there may be no cold feet. Such a stove unites economy with beauty

and comfort. A prime charm of this room is its southern exposure,

securing sunshine all the year, never shut out with shades or blinds

except in the hottest days.

[Illustration: Fig. 42.]

[Illustration: Fig. 43.]

This lovely parlor was furnished with pictures and every other article

for less than a hundred dollars, and was more beautiful and enjoyable

than many of those which have demanded thousands for their outfit.

As a means of educating the ingenuity and the taste, you can make for

yourselves pretty rustic frames in various modes. Take a very thin

board, of the right size and shape, for the foundation or “mat;” saw

out the inner oval or rectangular form to suit the picture. Nail on

the edge a rustic frame made of branches of hard, seasoned wood, and

garnish the corners with some pretty device; such, for instance, as a

cluster of acorns; or, in place of the branches of trees, fasten on

with glue small pine cones, with larger ones for corner ornaments. Or

use the mosses of the wood or ocean shells for this purpose. It may be

more convenient to get the mat or inner molding from a framer, or have

it made by your carpenter, with a groove behind to hold a glass.

If you have in the house any broken-down arm-chair reposing in the

oblivion of the garret, draw it out—drive a nail here and there to

hold it firm—stuff and pad, and stitch the padding through with a long

upholsterer’s needle, and cover it with the chintz like your other

furniture and you create an easy-chair.

[Illustration: Fig. 44.]

[Illustration: Fig. 45.]

An ox-muzzle, flattened on one side and nailed to a board, as in

Fig. 44, filled with spongy moss and feathery ferns, makes a lovely

ornament; while suspended baskets holding cups or bowls of soil filled

with drooping plants is another cheap ornament. A Ward case, which any

ingenious boy can make of pine and common glass, is shown on the table

at Fig. 41, page 193. It is a great source of enjoyment to children and

invalids. The box at the bottom is to be lined with zinc, and have a

hole for drainage covered with an inverted saucer, and there must be a

door at one end. The soil must consist of broken charcoal at bottom,

two inches deep, and over this some soil made of one-fourth fine sand,

one-fourth meadow soil from under fresh turf, and two-fourths wood soil

from under forest-trees. In this plant all sorts of ferns and swamp

grasses, and make a border of money-plant or periwinkle. A bit of

looking-glass, some shells, and bits of rock with a variety of mosses,

flowers, and ferns that grow in the shade, can lend variety and beauty.

When watering, set a pail under for it to drip into. It needs only to

keep this moss always damp, and to sprinkle these ferns occasionally

with a whisk-broom, to have a most lovely ornament for your room or

hall.

An old tin pan, painted green, with holes in the bottom, thus supplied

with soil and ferns, makes a pretty parlor ornament. Or, take a

salt-box or fig-box, and fill them with soil and plants, and use

for hanging-baskets. The Ward case needs watering only once in two

weeks, and most of these plants grow without sun in north windows.

The fuchsias flourish also in the shade, as do striped spider-wort,

smilax, saxifrage, and samentosa or Wandering Jew. German ivy growing

in suspended bottles of water is a cheap ornament, and slips of

nasturtions and verbenas will grow in north windows all winter. A

sponge filled with flax-seed, hung by a cord and kept wet, is another

cheap ornament, as is also a carrot scooped out, after the small part

is cut out and hung up, till its tall, graceful shoots will mingle with

flowers placed in it. A sweet-potato in a bowl of water, or suspended

by a knitting-needle run through it and laid in a bowl half full of

water, makes a verdant ornament. The flowers for a Ward case, in a

room without sun, are, ground pine, prince’s pine, trailing arbutus,

partridge-berry, eye-brights, mosses. Fig. 45 is a stand for flowers,

made of roots scraped and varnished.

Much of the beauty of furniture is secured by the tasteful combination

of colors. There usually should be only two colors in addition to the

white of the ceiling. Blue unites well with buff or corn color, or

a yellow brown. Green combines well with drab, or white, or yellow.

Scarlet or crimson unites well with gray or drab.

Those who cultivate parlor plants need these cautions: Too much water

and want of fresh air make plants grow pale and spindling; so give

fresh air every day. Wash leaves when covered with dust. Change soil

once a year, or water with liquid manure. Pluck faded flowers, as much

strength of a plant goes to make seed. Pick off fading green leaves.

If flowers are wanted, use small pots. Do not shut out the sun, which

human beings need as much as flowers. Use oil-cloth similar to the

carpet, where flowers and sun abound. Shut out flies with wire netting

in open windows, and also doors of the same. It costs much less than

ill health and mournfully darkened rooms.

CHAPTER VII.

CARE OF HEALTH.

There is no point where a woman is more liable to suffer from a want of

knowledge and experience than in reference to the health of a family

committed to her care. Many a young lady who never had any charge of

the sick; who never took any care of an infant; who never obtained

information on these subjects from books, or from the experience of

others; in short, with little or no preparation, has found herself the

principal attendant in dangerous sickness, the chief nurse of a feeble

infant, and the responsible guardian of the health of a whole family.

The care, the fear, the perplexity of a woman suddenly called to these

unwonted duties, none can realize till they themselves feel it, or

till they see some young and anxious novice first attempting to meet

such responsibilities. To a woman of age and experience these duties

often involve a measure of trial and difficulty at times deemed almost

insupportable; how hard, then, must they press on the heart of the

young and inexperienced!

There is no really efficacious mode of preparing a woman to take a

rational care of the health of a family, except by communicating that

knowledge in regard to the construction of the body and the laws of

health which is the basis of the medical profession. Not that a woman

should undertake the minute and extensive investigation requisite for a

physician; but she should gain a general knowledge of first principles,

as a guide to her judgment in emergencies when she can rely on no other

aid.

With this end in view, in the preceding chapters some portions of the

organs and functions of the human body have been presented, and others

will now follow in connection with the practical duties which result

from them.

On the general subject of health, one recent discovery of science may

here be introduced as having an important relation to every organ and

function of the body, and as being one to which frequent reference will

be made; and that is, the nature and operation of _cell-life_.

By the aid of the microscope, we can examine the minute construction of

plants and animals, in which we discover contrivances and operations,

if not so sublime, yet more wonderful and interesting, than the vast

systems of worlds revealed by the telescope.

By this instrument it is now seen that the first formation, as well as

future changes and actions, of all plants and animals are accomplished

by means of small cells or bags containing various kinds of liquids.

These cells are so minute that, of the smallest, some hundreds would

not cover the dot of a printed _i_ on this page. They are of diverse

shapes and contents, and perform various different operations.

[Illustration: Fig. 46.]

The first formation of every animal is accomplished by the agency of

cells, and may be illustrated by the egg of any bird or fowl. The

exterior consists of a hard shell for protection, and this is lined

with a tough skin, to which is fastened the yelk, (which means the

_yellow_,) by fibrous strings, as seen at _a_, _a_, in the diagram.

In the yelk floats the germ-cell, _b_, which is the point where the

formation of the future animal commences. The yelk, being lighter than

the white, rises upward, and the germ being still lighter, rises in

the yelk. This is to bring both nearer to the vitalizing warmth of the

brooding mother.

New cells are gradually formed from the nourishing yelk around the

germ, each being at first roundish in shape, and having a spot near the

centre, called the nucleus. The reason why cells increase must remain

a mystery until we can penetrate the secrets of vital force—probably

forever. But the mode in which they multiply is as follows: The first

change noticed in a cell, when warmed into vital activity, is the

appearance of a second nucleus within it, while the cell gradually

becomes oval in form, and then is drawn inward at the middle, like an

hour-glass, till the two sides meet. The two portions then divide, and

two cells appear, each containing its own germinal nucleus. These both

divide again in the same manner, proceeding in the ratio of 2, 4, 8,

16, and so on, until most of the yelk becomes a mass of cells.

The central point of this mass, where the animal itself commences to

appear, shows, first, a round-shaped figure, which soon assumes form

like a pear, and then like a violin. Gradually the busy little cells

arrange themselves to build up heart, lungs, brain, stomach, and limbs,

for which the yelk and white furnish nutriment. There is a small bag

of air fastened to one end inside of the shell; and when the animal is

complete, this air is taken into its lungs, life begins, and out walks

little chick, all its powers prepared, and ready to run, eat, and enjoy

existence. Then, as soon as the animal uses its brain to think and

feel, and its muscles to move, the cells which have been made up into

these parts begin to decay, while new cells are formed from the blood

to take their place. Thus with life commences the constant process of

decay and renewal all over the body.

[Illustration: Fig. 47.]

The liquid portion of the blood consists of material formed from food,

air, and water. From this material the cells of the blood are formed:

first, the white cells, which are incomplete in formation; and then

the red cells, which are completed by the addition of the oxygen

received from air in the lungs. Fig. 47 represents part of a magnified

blood-vessel, _a_, _a_, in which the round cells are the white, and

the oblong the red cells, floating in the blood. Surrounding the

blood-vessels are the cells forming the adjacent membrane, _b b_, each

having a nucleus in its centre.

Cells have different powers of selecting and secreting diverse

materials from the blood. Thus, some secrete bile to carry to the

liver, others secrete saliva for the mouth, others take up the tears,

and still others take material for the brain, muscles, and all other

organs. Cells also have a converting power—of taking one kind of matter

from the blood, and changing it to another kind. They are minute

chemical laboratories all over the body, changing materials of one kind

to another form in which they can be made useful.

Both animal and vegetable substances are formed of cells. But the

vegetable cells take up and use unorganized, or simple, natural matter;

whereas the animal cell only takes substances already organized into

vegetable or animal life, and then changes one compound into another of

different proportions and nature.

These curious facts in regard to cell-life have important relations

to the general subject of the care of health, and also to the cure of

disease, as will be noticed in following chapters.

THE NERVOUS SYSTEM.

There is another portion of the body which is so intimately connected

with every other, that it is placed in this chapter as also having

reference to every department in the general subject of the care of

health.

The body has no power to move itself, but is a collection of

instruments to be used by the mind in securing various kinds of

knowledge and enjoyment. The organs through which the mind thus

operates are the _brain_ and _nerves_. The opposite drawing (Fig. 48)

represents them.

The brain lies in the skull, and is divided into the large or upper

brain, marked 1, and the small or lower brain, marked 2. From the brain

runs the spinal marrow through the spine or backbone. From each side of

the spine the large nerves run out into innumerable smaller branches to

every portion of the body. The drawing shows only some of the larger

branches. Those marked 3 run to the neck and organs of the chest; those

marked 4 go to the arms; those below the arms, marked 3, go to the

trunk; those marked 5 go to the legs; and the lowest of all go to the

pelvic organs.

[Illustration: Fig. 48.]

The brain and nerves consist of two kinds of nervous matter—the _gray_,

which is supposed to be the portion that originates and controls a

nervous fluid which imparts power of action; and the _white_, which

seems to conduct this fluid to every part of the body.

The brain and nervous system are divided into distinct portions, each

having different offices to perform, and each acting independently

of the others; as, for example, one portion is employed by the mind

in thinking, and in feeling pleasurable or painful mental emotions;

another in moving the muscles; while the nerves that run to the nose,

ears, eyes, tongue, hands, and surface generally, are employed in

seeing, hearing, smelling, tasting, and feeling all physical sensations.

The _back_ portion of the spinal marrow and the nerves that run from it

are employed in _sensation_, or the _sense of feeling_. These nerves

extend over the whole body, but are largely developed in the net-work

of nerves in the skin. The _front_ portion of the spinal marrow and its

branches are employed in moving those muscles in all parts of the body

which are controlled by the _will_ or _choice_ of the mind. These are

called the _nerves of motion_.

The nerves of sensation and nerves of motion, although they start from

different portions of the spine, are united in the same _sheath_ or

_cover_, till they terminate in the muscles. Thus, every muscle is

moved by nerves of motion; while alongside of this nerve, in the same

sheath, is a nerve of sensation. All the nerves of motion and sensation

are connected with those portions of the brain used when we think,

feel, and choose. By this arrangement the mind _knows_ what is wanted

in all parts of the body by means of the nerves of sensation, and then

it _acts_ by means of the nerves of motion.

For example, when we feel the cold air on the skin, the nerves of

sensation report to the brain, and thus to the mind, that the body is

growing cold. The mind thus knows that more clothing is needed, and

_wills_ to have the eyes look for it, and the hands and feet move to

get it. This is done by the nerves of sight and of motion.

Next are the nerves of _involuntary motion_, which move all those parts

of the head, face, and body that are used in breathing, and in other

operations connected with it. By these we continue to breathe when

asleep, and whether we will to do so or not. There are also some of the

nerves of voluntary motion that are mixed with these, which enable the

mind to stop respiration, or to regulate it to a certain extent. But

the mind has no power to stop it for any great length of time.

There is another large and important system of nerves called the

_sympathetic_ or _ganglionic_ system. It consists of small masses of

gray and white nervous matter, that seem to be small brains with nerves

running from them. These are called _ganglia_, and are arranged on

each side of the spine, while small nerves from the spinal marrow run

into them, thus uniting the sympathetic system with the nerves of the

spine. These ganglia are also distributed around in various parts of

the interior of the body, especially in the intestines, and all the

different ganglia are connected with each other by nerves, thus making

one system. It is the ganglionic system that carries on the circulation

of the blood, the action of the capillaries, lymphatics, arteries, and

veins, together with the work of secretion, absorption, and most of the

internal working of the body, which goes forward without any knowledge

or control of the mind.

Every portion of the body has nerves of sensation coming from the

spine, and also branches of the sympathetic or ganglionic system. The

object of this is to form a sympathetic communication between the

several parts of the body, and also to enable the mind to receive,

through the brain, some general knowledge of the state of the whole

system. It is owing to this that, when one portion of the body is

affected, other portions sympathize. For example, if one part of the

body is diseased, the stomach may so sympathize as to lose all appetite

until the disease is removed.

All the operations of the nervous system are performed by the influence

of the nervous fluid, which is generated in the gray portions of the

brain and ganglia. Whenever a nerve is cut off from its connection with

these nervous centres, its power is gone, and the part to which it

ministered becomes lifeless and incapable of motion.

The brain and nerves can be overworked, and can also suffer for want

of exercise, just as the muscles do. It is necessary for the perfect

health of the brain and nerves that the several portions be exercised

sufficiently, and that no part be exhausted by overaction. For example,

the nerves of sensation may be very much exercised, and the nerves of

motion have but little exercise. In this case, one will be weakened by

excess of work, and the other by the want of it.

It is found by experience that the proper exercise of the nerves of

motion tends to reduce any extreme susceptibility of the nerves of

sensation. On the contrary, the neglect of such exercise tends to

produce an excessive sensibility in the nerves of sensation.

Whenever that part of the brain which is employed in thinking, feeling,

and willing, is greatly exercised by hard study, or by excessive care

or emotion, the blood tends to the brain to supply it with increased

nourishment, just as it flows to the muscles when they are exercised.

Over-exercise of this portion of the brain causes engorgement of the

blood-vessels. This is sometimes indicated by pain, or by a sense of

fullness in the head; but oftener the result is a debilitating drain on

the nervous system, which depends for its supply on the healthful state

of the brain.

The brain has, as it were, a fountain of supply for the nervous fluid,

which flows to all the nerves, and stimulates them to action. Some

brains have a larger, and some a smaller fountain; so that a degree of

mental activity that would entirely exhaust one, would make only a

small and healthful drain upon another.

The excessive use of certain portions of the brain tends to withdraw

the nervous energy from other portions; so that when one part is

debilitated by excess, another fails by neglect. For example, a person

may so exhaust the brainpower in the excessive use of the nerves of

motion by hard work, as to leave little for any other faculty. On

the other hand, the nerves of feeling and thinking may be so used as

to withdraw the nervous fluid from the nerves of motion, and thus

debilitate the muscles.

Some animal propensities may be indulged to such excess as to produce a

constant tendency of the blood to a certain portion of the brain and to

the organs connected with it, and thus cause a constant and excessive

excitement, which finally becomes a disease. Sometimes a paralysis of

this portion of the brain results from such an entire exhaustion of the

nervous fountain and of the overworked nerves.

Thus, also, the thinking portion of the brain may be so overworked

as to drain the nervous fluid from other portions, which become

debilitated by the loss. And in this way, also, the overworked portion

may be diseased or paralyzed by the excess.

Sometimes the intellect and feelings may be confined to one subject so

exclusively as to cause mental derangement on that subject when sane in

all other respects. This is called a monomania.

The necessity for the _equal development_ of all portions of the brain

by an appropriate exercise of _all_ the faculties of mind and body, and

the influence of this upon happiness, is the most important portion of

this subject, and will be more directly exhibited in another chapter.

The chief causes of debility of nerves, neuralgia, sciatica, and other

diseases of the nerves, are exhaustion of the nervous fountain by

excess of study, or of labor, or of mental excitement of _any_ kind.

All excess of feeling, or of intellectual or physical labor, decreases

the nerve centres or fountains of nervous supply. Diseases also, and

often medicines, have the same effect.

When the nerves are thus weakened their minute capillaries are not able

to send forward the blood, and thus become swollen or congested, and

then a change in the nerve substance follows.

The remedy for this is to withdraw the blood from the congested nerves,

and this is secured by exercising the muscles, thus drawing the blood

from nerves to muscles. When the patient is much debilitated this

exercise should be done by an operator, as in the passive exercises

of the movement cure; for in such cases the nerves and brain would be

still more weakened by _voluntary_ exercise of the patient. This shows

the great mistake often made by attempts to remedy weak nerves and

brain that need rest, by voluntary exercise of the muscles. It also

shows the mischief often done in schools where to high intellectual

excitement is added vigorous gymnastic exercises.

The chief benefit of the movement cure, especially as conducted by Dr.

George Taylor, of New York City, consists in various apparatus invented

by him, by which various parts of the body can be exercised while the

brain and nerves of the patient are at rest. By these contrivances the

congested blood of the capillaries is drawn from the diseased part and

all the healthful functions restored, while the patient is at rest as

to any voluntary exertion of brain and nerves. When the strength will

permit, voluntary exercises adapted to each case are combined with the

passive movement effected by an operator:

The following are the effects of the mechanical and involuntary

movements by machinery or by an operator:

They produce increased motion of particles, and so increase of

absorption and nutrition.

They increase contractile power in the capillaries, and thus remedy

congestion.

They direct nervous energy to defective parts and remove obstructions.

They increase respiration, and thus increase the life-giving oxygen and

animal heat, while they repress excess in other congested parts.

They increase nutrition, and also the secretion and discharge of morbid

matter from diseased or weakened parts.

CHAPTER VIII.

DOMESTIC EXERCISE.

In a work which aims to influence women to train the young to honor

domestic labor and to seek healthful exercise in home pursuits, there

is special reason for explaining the construction of the muscles and

their connection with the nerves, these being the chief organs of

motion.

The muscles, as seen by the naked eye, consist of very fine fibres or

strings, bound up in smooth, silky casings of thin membrane. But each

of these visible fibres or strings the microscope shows to be made up

of still finer strings, numbering from five to eight hundred in each

fibre. And each of these microscopic fibres is a series or chain of

elastic cells, which are so minute that one hundred thousand would

scarcely cover a capital O on this page.

[Illustration: Fig. 49.]

[Illustration: Fig. 50].

The peculiar property of the cells which compose the muscles is their

elasticity, no other cells of the body having this property. At Fig. 49

is a diagram representing a microscopic muscular fibre, in which the

cells are relaxed, as in the natural state of rest. But when the muscle

contracts, each of its numberless cells in all its small fibres becomes

widened, making each fibre of the muscle shorter and thicker, as at

Fig. 50. This explains the cause of the swelling out of muscles when

they act.

Every motion in every part of the body has a special muscle to produce

it, and many have other muscles to restore the part moved to its

natural state. The muscles that move or bend any part are called

_flexors_, and those that restore the natural position are called

_extensors_.

[Illustration: Fig. 51.]

Fig. 51 represents the muscles of the arm after the skin and flesh are

removed. They are all in smooth, silky cases, laid over each other, and

separated both by the smooth membranes that encase them and by layers

of fat, so as to move easily without interfering with each other. They

are fastened to the bones by strong tendons and cartilages; and around

the wrist, in the drawing, is shown a band of cartilage to confine

them in place. The muscle marked 8 is the extensor that straightens

the fingers after they have been closed by a flexor on the other side

of the arm. In like manner, each motion of the arm and fingers has one

muscle to produce it and another to restore to the natural position.

The muscles are dependent on the brain and nerves for power to move.

It has been shown that the gray matter of the brain and spinal marrow

furnishes the stimulating power that moves the muscles, and causes

sensations of touch on the skin, and the other sensations of the

several senses. The white part of the brain and spinal marrow consists

solely of conducting tubes to transmit this influence. Each of the

minute fibrils of the muscles has a small conducting nerve connecting

it with the brain or spinal marrow, and in this respect each muscular

fibril is separate from every other.

When, therefore, the mind wills to move a flexor muscle of the arm, the

gray matter sends out the stimulus through the nerves to the cells of

each individual fibre of that muscle, and they contract. When this is

done, the nerve of sensation reports it to the brain and mind. If the

mind desires to return the arm to its former position, then follows

the willing, and consequent stimulus sent through the nerves to the

corresponding muscle; its cells contract, and the limb is restored.

When the motion is a compound one, involving the action of several

muscles at the same time, a multitude of impressions are sent back and

forth to and from the brain through the nerves. But the person acting

thus is unconscious of all this delicate and wonderful mechanism.

He wills the movement, and instantly the requisite nervous power is

sent to the required cells and fibres, and they perform the motions

required. Many of the muscles are moved by the sympathetic system, over

which the mind has but little control.

Among the muscles and nerves so intimately connected run the minute

capillaries of the blood, which furnish nourishment to all.

[Illustration: Fig. 52.]

Fig. 52 represents an artery at _a_, which brings pure blood to a

muscle from the heart. After meandering through the capillaries at

_c_, to distribute oxygen and food from the stomach, the blood enters

the vein, _b_, loaded with carbonic acid and water taken up in the

capillaries, to be carried to the lungs or skin, and thrown out into

the air.

The manner in which the exercise of the muscles quickens the

circulation of the blood will now be explained. The veins abound in

every part of every muscle, and the large veins have _valves_ which

prevent the blood from flowing backward. If the wrist is grasped

tightly, the veins of the hand are immediately swollen. This is owing

to the fact that the blood is prevented from flowing toward the heart

by this pressure, and by the vein-valves from returning into the

arteries; while the arteries themselves, being placed deeper down,

are not so compressed, and continue to send the blood into the hand,

and thus it accumulates. As soon as this pressure is removed, the

blood springs onward from the restraint with accelerated motion. This

same process takes place when any of the muscles are exercised. The

contraction of any muscle presses some of the veins, so that the blood

can not flow the natural way, while the valves in the veins prevent

its flowing backward. Meantime the arteries continue to press the

blood along until the veins become swollen. Then, as soon as the muscle

ceases its contraction, the blood flows faster from the previous

accumulation.

If, then, we use a number of muscles, and use them strongly and

quickly, there are so many veins affected in this way as to quicken the

whole circulation. The heart receives blood faster, and sends it to

the lungs faster. Then the lungs work quicker, to furnish the oxygen

required by the greater amount of blood. The blood returns with greater

speed to the heart, and the heart sends it out with quicker action

through the arteries to the capillaries. In the capillaries, too, the

decayed matter is carried off faster, and then the stomach calls for

more food to furnish new and pure blood. Thus it is that exercise gives

new life and nourishment to every part of the body.

It is the universal law of the human frame that _exercise_ is

indispensable to the health of the several parts. Thus, if a

blood-vessel be tied up, so as not to be used, it shrinks, and becomes

a useless string; if a muscle be condemned to inaction, it shrinks

in size and diminishes in power; and thus it is also with the bones.

Inactivity produces softness, debility, and unfitness for the functions

they are designed to perform.

Now, the nerves, like all other parts of the body, gain and lose

strength according as they are exercised. If they have too much or

too little exercise, they lose strength; if they are exercised to

a proper degree, they gain strength. When the mind is continuously

excited, by business, study, or the imagination, the nerves of emotion

and sensation are kept in constant action, while the nerves of motion

are unemployed. If this is continued for a long time, the nerves of

sensation lose their strength from overaction, and the nerves of motion

lose their power from inactivity. In consequence, there is a morbid

excitability of the nervous, and a debility of the muscular system,

which make all exertion irksome and wearisome.

The only mode of preserving the health of these systems is to keep

up in them an equilibrium of action. For this purpose, occupations

must be sought which exercise the muscles and interest the mind; and

thus the equal action of both kinds of nerves is secured. This shows

why exercise is so much more healthful and invigorating when the mind

is interested than when it is not. As an illustration, let a person

go shopping with a friend, and have nothing to do but look on. How

soon do the continuous walking and standing weary! But, suppose one,

thus wearied, hears of the arrival of a very dear friend: she can

instantly walk off a mile or two to meet her, without the least feeling

of fatigue. By this is shown the importance of furnishing, for young

persons, exercise in which they will take an interest. Long and formal

walks, merely for exercise, though they do some good, in securing fresh

air and some exercise of the muscles, would be of triple benefit if

changed to amusing sports, or to the cultivation of fruits and flowers,

in which it is impossible to engage without acquiring a great interest.

It shows, also, why it is far better to trust to useful domestic

exercise at home than to send a young person out to walk for the

mere purpose of exercise. Young girls can seldom be made to realize

the value of health, and the need of exercise to secure it, so as to

feel much interest in walking abroad, when they have no other object.

But if they are brought up to minister to the comfort and enjoyment

of themselves and others by performing domestic duties, they will

constantly be interested and cheered in their exercise by the feeling

of usefulness and the consciousness of having performed their duty.

There are few young persons, it is hoped, who are brought up with such

miserable habits of selfishness and indolence that they can not be made

to feel happier by the consciousness of being usefully employed. And

those who have never been accustomed to think or care for any one but

themselves, and who seem to feel little pleasure in making themselves

useful, by wise and proper influences can often be gradually awakened

to the new pleasure of benevolent exertion to promote the comfort

and enjoyment of others. And the more this sacred and elevating kind

of enjoyment is tasted, the greater is the relish induced. Other

enjoyments often cloy; but the heavenly pleasure secured by virtuous

industry and benevolence, while it satisfies at the time, awakens fresh

desires for the continuance of so ennobling a good.

It is an interesting illustration of the benevolence and wisdom of our

Maker, that the appropriate duties of the family, uniting intellectual,

social, and moral with both sedentary and active pursuits, are exactly

fitted to employ every faculty in a healthful proportion. And it is a

sad violation of the laws of health to so divide family employments

that one class use muscle too much, and the other the brain to excess.

CHAPTER IX.

HEALTHFUL FOOD AND DRINKS.

The person who decides what shall be the food and drink of a family,

and the modes of its preparation, is the one who decides, to a greater

or less extent, what shall be the health of that family. It is the

opinion of most medical men that intemperance in eating is one of the

most fruitful of all causes of disease and death. If this be so, the

woman who wisely adapts the food and cooking of her family to the

laws of health removes one of the greatest risks which threatens the

lives of those under her care. But, unfortunately, there is no other

duty that has been involved in more doubt and perplexity. Were one to

believe all that is said and written on this subject, the conclusion

probably would be, that there is not one solitary article of food on

God’s earth which it is healthful to eat. Happily, however, there are

general principles on this subject which, if understood and applied,

will prove a safe guide to any woman of common sense; and it is the

object of the present chapter to set forth these principles.

All material things on earth, whether solid, liquid, or gaseous, can be

resolved into sixty-two simple substances, only fourteen of which are

in the human body; and these, in certain proportions, in all mankind.

Thus, in a man weighing 154 lbs. are found 111 lbs. oxygen gas and 14

lbs. hydrogen gas, which, united, form water; 21 lbs. carbon; 3 lbs.

8 oz. nitrogen gas; 1 lb. 12 oz. 190 grs. phosphorus; 2 lbs. calcium,

the chief ingredient of bones; 2 oz. fluorine; 2 oz. 219 grs. sulphur;

2 oz. 47 grs. chlorine; 2 oz. 116 grs. sodium; 100 grs. iron; 290 grs.

potassium; 12 grs. magnesium; and 2 grs. silicon.

These simple substances are constantly passing out of the body through

the lungs, skin, and other excreting organs.

It is found that certain of these simple elements are used for one

part of the body and others for other parts, and this in certain

regular proportions. Thus, carbon is the chief element of fat, and

also supplies the fuel that combines with oxygen in the capillaries to

produce animal heat. The nitrogen which we gain from our food and the

air is the chief element of muscle; phosphorus is the chief element of

brain and nerves; and calcium or lime is the hard portion of the bones.

Iron is an important element of blood; and silicon supplies the hardest

parts of the teeth, nails, and hair.

Water, which is composed of the two gases oxygen and hydrogen, is the

largest portion of the body, forming its fluids; there is four times as

much of carbon as there is of nitrogen in the body; while there is only

two per cent. as much phosphorus as carbon. A man weighing one hundred

and fifty-four pounds, who leads an active life, takes into his stomach

daily from two to three pounds of solid food, and from five to six

pounds of liquid. At the same time he takes into his lungs, daily, four

or five thousand gallons of air. This amounts to three thousand pounds

of nutriment received through stomach and lungs, and then expelled from

the body, in one year; or about twenty times the man’s own weight.

It is found that the simple elements will not nourish the body in their

natural state, but only when organized, either as vegetable or animal

food; and, to the dismay of the Grahamite or vegetarian school, it is

now established by chemists that animal and vegetable food contain the

same elements, and in nearly the same proportions.

Thus, in animal food, carbon predominates in fats, while in vegetable

food it shows itself in sugar, starch, and vegetable oils. Nitrogen is

found in animal food in the albumen, fibrine, and caseine; while in

vegetables it is in gluten, albumen, and caseine.

It is also a curious fact that, in all articles of food, the elements

that nourish diverse parts of the body are divided into separable

portions, and also that the proportions correspond in a great degree to

the wants of the body. For example, a kernel of wheat contains all the

articles demanded for every part of the body. Fig. 53 represents, upon

an enlarged scale, the position and proportions of the chief elements

required. The white central part is the largest in quantity, and is

chiefly carbon in the form of starch, which supplies fat and fuel for

the capillaries. The shaded outer portion is chiefly nitrogen, which

nourishes the muscles; and the dark spot at the bottom is principally

phosphorus, which nourishes the brain and nerves. And these elements

are in due proportion to the demands of the body. A portion of the

outer covering of a wheat-kernel holds lime, silica, and iron, which

are needed by the body, and which are found in no other part of the

grain. The woody fibre is not digested, but serves, by its bulk and

stimulating action, to facilitate digestion. It is, therefore, evident

that bread made of unbolted flour is more healthful than that made

of superfine flour. For the process of bolting removes all the woody

fibre; the lime needed for the bones; the silica for hair, nails, and

teeth; the iron for the blood; and most of the nitrogen and phosphorus

needed for muscles, brain, and nerves.

[Illustration: Fig. 53.]

Experiments on animals prove that fine flour alone, which is chiefly

carbon, will not sustain life more than a month, while unbolted flour

furnishes all that is needed for every part of the body. There are

cases where persons can not use such coarse bread, on account of its

irritating action on inflamed coats of the stomach. For such, a kind

of wheaten grit is provided, containing all the kernel of the wheat,

except the outside woody fibre.

From these statements it may be seen that one of the chief mistakes

in providing food for families has been in changing the proportions

of the elements nature has fitted for our food. Thus, fine wheat is

deprived by bolting of some of the most important of its nourishing

elements, leaving carbon chiefly, which, after supplying fuel for

the capillaries, must, if in excess, be sent out of the body; thus

needlessly taxing all the excreting organs. So milk, which contains

all the elements needed by the body, has the cream taken out and used

for butter, which again is chiefly carbon. Then, sugar and molasses,

cakes and candies, are chiefly carbon, and supply but very little of

other nourishing elements, while, to make them safe, much exercise in

cold and pure air is necessary. And yet it is the children of the rich,

housed in chambers and school-rooms most of their time, who are fed

with these dangerous dainties, thus weakening their constitutions, and

inducing fevers, colds, and many other diseases.

The proper digestion of food depends on the wants of the body, and on

its power of appropriating the aliment supplied. The best of food can

not be properly digested when it is not needed. All that the system

requires will be used, and the rest will be thrown out by the several

excreting organs, which thus are frequently overtaxed, and vital forces

are wasted. Even food of poor quality may digest well if the demands

of the system are urgent. The way to increase digestive power is to

increase the demand for food by pure air and exercise of the muscles,

quickening the blood, and arousing the whole system to a more rapid and

vigorous rate of life.

We are now ready to consider intelligently the following general

principles in regard to the proper selection of food:

Vegetable and animal food are equally healthful if apportioned to the

given circumstances.

In cold weather, carbonaceous food, such as butter, fats, sugar,

molasses, etc., can be used more safely than in warm weather. And they

can be used more safely by those who exercise in the open air than by

those of confined and sedentary habits.

Students who need food with little carbon, and women who live in the

house, should always seek coarse bread, fruits, and lean meats, and

avoid butter, oils, sugar, and molasses, and articles containing them.

Many students and women using little exercise in the open air grow thin

and weak, because the vital powers are exhausted in throwing off excess

of food, especially of the carbonaceous. The liver is especially taxed

in such cases, being unable to remove all the excess of carbonaceous

matter from the blood, and thus “biliousness” ensues, particularly on

the approach of warm weather, when the air brings less oxygen than in

cold.

It is found, by experiment, that the supply of gastric juice, furnished

from the blood by the arteries of the stomach, is proportioned, not to

the amount of food put into the stomach, but to the wants of the body;

so that it is possible to put much more into the stomach than can be

digested. To guide and regulate in this matter, the sensation called

_hunger_ is provided. In a healthy state of the body, as soon as the

blood has lost its nutritive supplies, the craving of hunger is felt,

and then, if the food is suitable, and is taken in the proper manner,

this sensation ceases as soon as the stomach has received enough to

supply the wants of the system. But our benevolent Creator, in this as

in our other duties, has connected enjoyment with the operation needful

to sustain our bodies. In addition to the allaying of hunger, the

gratification of the palate is secured by the immense variety of food,

some articles of which are far more agreeable than others.

This arrangement of Providence, designed for our happiness, has become,

either through ignorance or want of self-control, the chief cause of

the many diseases and sufferings which afflict those classes who have

the means of seeking a variety to gratify the palate. If mankind had

only one article of food, and only water to drink, though they would

have less enjoyment in eating, they would never be tempted to put any

more into the stomach than the calls of hunger require. But the customs

of society, which present an incessant change, and a great variety of

food, with those various condiments which stimulate appetite, lead

almost every person very frequently to eat merely to gratify the

palate, after the stomach has been abundantly supplied, so that hunger

has ceased.

When too great a supply of food is put into the stomach, the gastric

juice dissolves only that portion which the wants of the system

demand. Most of the remainder is ejected in an unprepared state; the

absorbents take portions of it into the system; and all the various

functions of the body, which depend on the ministries of the blood, are

thus gradually and imperceptibly injured. Very often, intemperance in

eating produces immediate results, such as colic, headaches, pains of

indigestion, and vertigo.

But the more general result is a gradual undermining of all parts of

the human frame; thus imperceptibly shortening life, by so weakening

the constitution that it is ready to yield, at every point, to any

uncommon risk or exposure. Thousands and thousands are passing out

of the world, from diseases occasioned by exposures which a healthy

constitution could meet without any danger. It is owing to these

considerations that it becomes the duty of every woman who has the

responsibility of providing food for a family to avoid a variety of

tempting dishes. It is a much safer guide to have only one kind of

healthy food for each meal, rather than the too abundant variety which

is often met at the tables of almost all classes in this country. When

there is to be any variety of dishes, they ought not to be successive,

but so arranged as to give the opportunity of selection. How often is

it the case that persons, by the appearance of a favorite article,

are tempted to eat merely to gratify the palate, when the stomach

is already adequately supplied. All such intemperance wears on the

constitution, and shortens life. It not unfrequently happens that

excess in eating produces a morbid appetite, which must constantly be

denied.

But the organization of the digestive organs demands not only that food

should be taken in proper quantities, but that it be taken at proper

times.

[Illustration: Fig. 54.]

Fig. 54 shows one important feature of the digestive organs relating to

this point. The part marked LM shows the muscles of the inner coat of

the stomach, which run in one direction, and CM shows the muscles of

the outer coat, running in another direction.

As soon as the food enters the stomach, the muscles are excited by the

nerves, and the _peristaltic motion_ commences: this is a powerful and

constant exercise of the muscles of the stomach, which continues until

the process of digestion is complete. During this time the blood is

withdrawn from other parts of the system, to supply the demands of the

stomach, which is laboring hard with all its muscles. When this motion

ceases, and the digested food has gradually passed out, nature requires

that the stomach should have a period of repose. And if another meal

be eaten immediately after one is digested, the stomach is set to work

again before it has had time to rest, and before a sufficient supply of

gastric juice is provided.

The general rule, then, is, that three hours be given to the stomach

for labor, and two for rest; and in obedience to this, five hours,

at least, ought to elapse between every two regular meals. In cases

where exercise produces a flow of perspiration, more food is needed to

supply the loss; and strong laboring men may safely eat as often as

they feel the want of food. So, young and healthy children, who gambol

and exercise much, and whose bodies grow fast, may have a more frequent

supply of food. But, as a general rule, meals should be five hours

apart, and eating between meals avoided. There is nothing more unsafe

and wearing to the constitution than a habit of eating at any time

merely to gratify the palate. When a tempting article is presented,

every person should exercise sufficient self-denial to wait till the

proper time for eating arrives. Children, as well as grown persons, are

often injured by eating between their regular meals, thus weakening the

stomach by not affording it any time for rest.

As a general rule, the quantity of food actually needed by the body

depends on the amount of muscular exercise taken. A laboring man in the

open fields probably throws off from his skin and lungs a much larger

amount than a person of sedentary pursuits. In consequence of this, he

demands a greater amount of food and drink.

Those persons who keep their bodies in a state of health by sufficient

exercise can always be guided by the calls of hunger. They can eat

when they feel hungry, and stop when hunger ceases; and thus they will

calculate exactly right. But the difficulty is, that a large part of

the community, especially women, are so inactive in their habits that

they seldom feel the calls of hunger. They habitually eat, merely to

gratify the palate. This produces such a state of the system that they

lose the guide which Nature has provided. They are not called to eat by

hunger, nor admonished, by its cessation, when to stop. In consequence

of this, such persons eat what pleases the palate, till they feel no

more inclination for the article. It is probable that three-fourths of

the women in the wealthier circles sit down to each meal without any

feeling of hunger, and eat merely on account of the gratification thus

afforded them. Such persons find their appetite to depend almost solely

upon the kind of food on the table. This is not the case with those who

take the exercise which Nature demands. They approach their meals in

such a state that almost any kind of food is acceptable.

Persons who have a strong constitution, and take much exercise, may

eat almost any thing with apparent impunity; but young children who

are forming their constitutions, and persons who are delicate and who

take but little exercise, are very dependent for health on a proper

selection of food.

It is found that there are some kinds of food which afford nutriment

to the blood, and do not produce any other effect on the system. There

are other kinds which are not only nourishing, but _stimulating_, so

that they quicken the functions of the organs on which they operate.

The condiments used in cookery, such as pepper, mustard, and spices,

are of this nature. There are certain states of the system when these

stimulants may be beneficial; such cases can only be pointed out by

medical men.

Persons in perfect health, and especially young children, never

receive any benefit from such kind of food; and just in proportion

as condiments operate to quicken the labors of the internal organs,

they tend to wear down their powers. A person who thus keeps the body

working under an unnatural excitement _lives faster_ than Nature

designed, and the constitution is worn out just so much the sooner. A

woman, therefore, should provide dishes for her family which are free

from these stimulating condiments.

In regard to articles which are the most easily digested, only general

rules can be given. Tender meats are digested more readily than those

which are tough, or than many kinds of vegetable food. The farinaceous

articles, such as rice, flour, corn, potatoes, and the like, are the

most nutritious, and most easily digested. The popular notion, that

meat is more nourishing than bread, is a great mistake. Good bread

contains more nourishment than butcher’s meat. The meat is more

_stimulating_, and for this reason is more readily digested.

A perfectly healthy stomach can digest almost any healthful food;

but when the digestive powers are weak, every stomach has its

peculiarities, and what is good for one is hurtful to another. In

such cases, experiment alone can decide which are the most digestible

articles of food. A person whose food troubles him must deduct one

article after another, till he learns by experience which is the best

for digestion. Much evil has been done by assuming that the powers of

one stomach are to be made the rule in regulating every other.

The most unhealthful kinds of food are those which are made so by bad

cooking; such as sour and heavy bread, cakes, pie-crust, and other

dishes consisting of fat mixed and cooked with flour. Rancid butter and

high-seasoned food are equally unwholesome. The fewer mixtures there

are in cooking, the more healthful is the food likely to be.

There is one caution as to the _mode_ of eating which seems peculiarly

needful to Americans. It is indispensable to good digestion that food

be well chewed and taken slowly. It needs to be thoroughly chewed and

mixed with saliva, in order to prepare it for the action of the gastric

juice, which, by the peristaltic motion, will be thus brought into

contact with every one of the minute portions. It has been found that a

solid lump of food requires much more time and labor of the stomach for

digestion than divided substances.

It has also been found that as each bolus, or mouthful, enters the

stomach, the latter closes, until the portion received has had some

time to move around and combine with the gastric juice, and that the

orifice of the stomach resists the entrance of any more till this

is accomplished. But, if the eater persists in swallowing fast, the

stomach yields; the food is then poured in more rapidly than the organ

can perform its duty of preparative digestion, and evil results are

sooner or later developed. This exhibits the folly of those hasty meals

so common to travelers and to men of business, and shows why children

should be taught to eat slowly.

After taking a full meal, it is very important to health that no great

bodily or mental exertion be made till the labor of the stomach is

over. Intense mental effort draws the blood to the head, and muscular

exertions draw it to the muscles; and in consequence of this, the

stomach loses the supply which it requires when performing its office.

When the blood with its stimulating effects is thus withdrawn from the

stomach, the adequate supply of gastric juice is not afforded, and

indigestion is the result. The heaviness which follows a full meal

is the indication which Nature gives of the need of quiet. When the

meal is moderate, a sufficient quantity of gastric juice is exuded in

an hour, or hour and a half; after which, labor of body and mind may

safely be resumed.

Extremes of heat or cold are injurious to the process of digestion.

Taking hot food or drink habitually, tends to debilitate all the

organs thus needlessly excited. In using cold substances, it is found

that a certain degree of warmth in the stomach is indispensable to

their digestion; so that when the gastric juice is cooled below this

temperature it ceases to act. Indulging in large quantities of cold

drinks, or eating ice-creams, after a meal, tends to reduce the

temperature of the stomach, and thus to stop digestion. This shows

the folly of those refreshments, in convivial meetings, where the

guests are tempted to load the stomach with a variety such as would

require the stomach of a stout farmer to digest; and then to wind up

with ice-creams, thus lessening whatever ability might otherwise have

existed to digest the heavy load. The fittest temperature for drinks,

if taken when the food is in the digesting process, is blood-heat. Cool

drinks, and even ice, can be safely taken at other times, if not in

excessive quantity. When the thirst is excessive, or the body weakened

by fatigue, or when in a state of perspiration, large quantities of

cold drinks are injurious.

Fluids taken into the stomach are not subject to the slow process of

digestion, but are immediately absorbed and carried into the blood.

This is the reason why liquid nourishment, more speedily than solid

food, restores from exhaustion. The minute vessels of the stomach

absorb its fluids, which are carried into the blood, just as the minute

extremities of the arteries open upon the inner surface of the stomach,

and there exude the gastric juice from the blood.

Highly-concentrated food, having much nourishment in a small bulk, is

not favorable to digestion, because it can not be properly acted on

by the muscular contractions of the stomach, and is not so minutely

divided as to enable the gastric juice to act properly. This is the

reason why a certain _bulk_ of food is needful to good digestion; and

why those people who live on whale-oil and other highly nourishing

food, in cold climates, mix vegetables and even sawdust with it, to

make it more acceptable and digestible. So in civilized lands, fruits

and vegetables are mixed with more highly concentrated nourishment. For

this reason, also, soups, jellies, and arrow-root should have bread or

crackers mixed with them. This affords another reason why coarse bread,

of unbolted wheat, so often proves beneficial. Where, from inactive

habits or other causes, the bowels become constipated and sluggish,

this kind of food proves the appropriate remedy.

One fact on this subject is worthy of notice. In England, under the

administration of William Pitt, for two years or more there was such a

scarcity of wheat that, to make it hold out longer, Parliament passed a

law that the army should have all their bread made of unbolted flour.

The result was, that the health of the soldiers improved so much as

to be a subject of surprise to themselves, the officers, and the

physicians. These last came out publicly and declared that the soldiers

never before were so robust and healthy; and that disease had nearly

disappeared from the army. The civic physicians joined and pronounced

it the healthiest bread; and for a time schools, families, and public

institutions used it almost exclusively. Even the nobility, convinced

by these facts, adopted it for their common diet, and the fashion

continued a long time after the scarcity ceased, until more luxurious

habits resumed their sway.

We thus see why children should not have cakes and candies allowed them

between meals. Besides being largely carbonaceous, these are highly

concentrated nourishments, and should be eaten with more bulky and

less nourishing substances. The most indigestible of all kinds of food

are fatty and oily substances, if heated. It is on this account that

pie-crust and articles boiled and fried in fat or butter are deemed not

so healthful as other food.

The following, then, may be put down as the causes of a debilitated

constitution from the misuse of food: Eating _too much_, eating _too

often_, eating _too fast_, eating food and condiments that are _too

stimulating_, eating food that is _too warm_ or _too cold_, eating

food that is _highly concentrated_, without a proper admixture of less

nourishing matter, and eating hot food that is _difficult of digestion_.

It is a point fully established by experience that the full development

of the human body and the vigorous exercise of all its functions can

be secured without the use of stimulating drinks. It is, therefore,

perfectly safe to bring up children never to use them, no hazard being

incurred by such a course.

It is also found by experience that there are two evils incurred by the

use of stimulating drinks. The first is, their positive effect on the

human system. Their peculiarity consists in so exciting the nervous

system that all the functions of the body are accelerated, and the

fluids are caused to move quicker than at their natural speed. This

increased motion of the animal fluids always produces an agreeable

effect on the mind. The intellect is invigorated, the imagination is

excited, the spirits are enlivened; and these effects are so agreeable

that all mankind, after having once experienced them, feel a great

desire for their repetition.

But this temporary invigoration of the system is always followed by

a diminution of the powers of the stimulated organs; so that, though

in all cases this reaction may not be perceptible, it is invariably

the result. It may be set down as the unchangeable rule of physiology,

that stimulating drinks deduct from the powers of the constitution

in exactly the proportion in which they operate to produce temporary

invigoration.

The second evil is the temptation which always attends the use of

stimulants. Their effect on the system is so agreeable, and the evils

resulting are so imperceptible and distant, that there is a constant

tendency to increase such excitement, both in frequency and power;

and the more the system is thus reduced in strength, the more craving

is the desire for that which imparts a temporary invigoration. This

process of increasing debility and increasing craving for the stimulus

that removes it, often goes to such an extreme that the passion is

perfectly uncontrollable, and mind and body perish under this baleful

habit.

In this country there are three forms in which the use of such

stimulants is common; namely, _alcoholic drinks_, _opium mixtures_, and

_tobacco_. These are all alike in the main peculiarity of imparting

that extra stimulus to the system which tends to exhaust its powers.

Multitudes in this nation are in the habitual use of some one of these

stimulants; and each person defends the indulgence by certain arguments:

First, that the desire for stimulants is a natural propensity implanted

in man’s nature, as is manifest from the universal tendency to such

indulgences in every nation. From this it is inferred that it is an

innocent desire, which ought to be gratified to some extent, and that

the aim should be to keep it within the limits of temperance, instead

of attempting to exterminate a natural propensity.

This is an argument which, if true, makes it equally proper for not

only men, but women and children, to use opium, brandy, or tobacco

as stimulating principles, provided they are used temperately. But

if it be granted that perfect health and strength can be gained and

secured without these stimulants, and that their peculiar effect is to

diminish the power of the system in exactly the same proportion as they

stimulate it, then there is no such thing as a temperate use, unless

they are so diluted as to destroy any stimulating power; and in this

form they are seldom desired.

The other argument for their use is, that they are among the good

things provided by the Creator for our gratification; that, like all

other blessings, they are exposed to abuse and excess; and that we

should rather seek to regulate their use than to banish them entirely.

This argument is based on the assumption that they are, like healthful

foods and drinks, necessary to life and health, and injurious only by

excess. But this is not true; for whenever they are used in any such

strength as to be a gratification, they operate to a greater or less

extent as stimulants, and to just such extent they wear out the powers

of the constitution; and it is abundantly proved that they are not,

like food and drink, necessary to health. Such articles are designed

for medicine, and not for common use. There can be no argument framed

to defend the use of one of them which will not justify women and

children in most dangerous indulgences.

There are some facts recently revealed by the microscope in regard to

alcoholic drinks which every woman should understand and regard. It

has been shown in a previous chapter that every act of mind, either by

thought, feeling, or choice, causes the destruction of certain cells

in the brain and nerves. It now is proved by microscopic science[4]

that the kind of nutrition furnished to the brain by the blood to a

certain extent decides future feelings, thoughts, and volitions. The

cells of the brain not only abstract from the blood the healthful

nutrition, but also are affected in shape, size, color, and action by

unsuitable elements in the blood. This is especially the case when

alcohol is taken into the stomach, from whence it is always carried to

the brain. The consequence is, that it affects the nature and action of

the brain-cells, until a habit is formed which is _automatic_; that is,

the mind loses the power of controlling the brain in its development of

thoughts, feelings, and choices as it would in the natural state, and

is itself controlled by the brain. In this condition a real disease of

the brain is created, called =oino-mania=, and the only remedy is total

abstinence, and that for a long period, from the alcoholic poison.

And what makes the danger more fearful is, that the brain-cells never

are so renewed but that this pernicious stimulus will bring back the

disease in full force, so that a man once subject to it is never safe

except by maintaining perpetual and total abstinence from every kind

of alcoholic drink. Dr. Day, who for many years has had charge of an

inebriate asylum, states that he witnessed the dissection of the brain

of a man once an inebriate, but for many years in practice of total

abstinence, and found its cells still in the weak and unnatural state

produced by earlier indulgences.

[4] For these statements the writer is indebted to Maudsley, a recent

writer on Microscopic Physiology.

There has unfortunately been a difference of opinion among medical

men as to the use of alcohol. Liebig, the celebrated writer on animal

chemistry, having found that both sugar and alcohol were heat-producing

articles of food, framed a theory that alcohol is burned in the lungs,

giving off carbonic acid and water, and thus serving to warm the body.

But modern science has proved that it is in the capillaries that animal

heat is generated, and it is believed that alcohol lessens instead of

increasing the power of the body to bear the cold. Sir John Ross, in

his Arctic voyage, proved by his own experience and that of his men

that cold-water drinkers could bear cold longer and were stronger than

any who used alcohol.

Carpenter, a standard writer on physiology, says the objection to a

habitual use of even small quantities of alcoholic drinks is, that

“they are universally admitted to possess a poisonous character,” and

“tend to produce a morbid condition of body;” while “the capacity for

enduring extremes of heat and cold, or of mental or bodily labor, is

diminished rather than increased by their habitual employment.”

Professor J. Bigelow, of Harvard University, says: “Alcohol is highly

stimulating, heating, and intoxicating, and its effects are so

fascinating that when once experienced there is danger that the desire

for them may be perpetuated.”

Dr. Bell and Dr. Churchill, both high medical authorities, especially

in lung disease, for which whisky is often recommended, come to the

conclusion that “the opinion that alcoholic liquors have influence in

preventing the deposition of tubercle is destitute of any foundation;

on the contrary, their use predisposes to tubercular deposition.” And

“where tubercle exists, alcohol has no effect in modifying the usual

course, neither does it modify the morbid effects on the system.”

Professor Youmans, of New York, says: “It has been demonstrated that

alcoholic drinks prevent the natural changes in the blood, and obstruct

the nutritive and reparative functions.” He adds: “Chemical experiments

have demonstrated that the action of alcohol on the digestive fluid

is to destroy its active principle, the _pepsin_, thus confirming the

observations of physiologists, that its use gives rise to serious

disorders of the stomach, and malignant aberration of the whole

economy.” It is true that some scientific men teach that alcohol,

tobacco, and opium are safe, and even useful, in certain quantities,

though there is no way to know what is the safe and useful point.

Usually it is men who habitually use some of these dangerous articles

who hold this view.

We are now prepared to consider the great principles of science, common

sense, and religion, which should guide every woman who has any kind of

influence or responsibility on this subject.

It is allowed by all medical men that pure water is perfectly

healthful, and supplies all the liquid needed by the body; and also

that by proper means, which ordinarily are in the reach of all, water

can be made sufficiently pure.

It is allowed by all that milk, and the juices of fruits, when taken

into the stomach, furnish water that is always pure, and that our

bread and vegetable food also supply it in large quantities. There are

besides a great variety of agreeable and healthful beverages, made from

the juices of fruit, containing no alcohol; and agreeable drinks, such

as milk, cocoa, and chocolate, that contain no stimulating principles,

and which are nourishing and healthful.

As one course, then, is perfectly safe, and another involves great

danger, it is wrong and sinful to choose the path of danger. There

is no peril in drinking pure water, milk, the juices of fruits, and

infusions that are nourishing and harmless. But there is great danger

to the young, and to the commonwealth, in patronizing the sale and

use of alcoholic drinks. The religion of Christ, in its distinctive

feature, involves generous self-denial for the good of others,

especially for the weaker members of society. It is on this principle

that St. Paul sets forth his own example: “If meat make my brother to

offend, I will eat no flesh while the world standeth, lest I make my

brother to offend.” And again he teaches, “We, then, that are strong

ought to bear the infirmities of the weak, and not to please ourselves.”

This Christian principle also applies to the common drinks of the

family, tea and coffee. It has been shown that the great end for which

Jesus Christ came, and for which he instituted the family state, is

the training of our whole race to virtue and happiness, with chief

reference to an immortal existence. In this mission, of which woman

is chief minister, the distinctive feature is self-sacrifice of the

wiser and stronger members to save and to elevate the weaker ones. The

children and the servants are these weaker members, who by ignorance

and want of habits of self-control are in most danger. It is in this

aspect that we are to consider the expediency of using tea and coffee

in a family.

These drinks are a most extensive cause of much of the nervous debility

and suffering endured by American women; and relinquishing them would

save an immense amount of such suffering. Moreover, all housekeepers

will allow that they can not regulate these drinks in their kitchens,

where the ignorant use them to excess. There is little probability that

the present generation will make so decided a change in their habits

as to give up these beverages; but the subject is presented rather in

reference to forming the habits of children.

It is a fact that tea and coffee are at first seldom or never agreeable

to children. It is the mixture of milk, sugar, and water, that

reconciles them to a taste which in this manner gradually becomes

agreeable. Now, suppose that those who provide for a family conclude

that it is not _their_ duty to give up entirely the use of stimulating

drinks, may not the case appear different in regard to teaching their

children to love such drinks? Let the matter be regarded thus: The

experiments of physiologists all prove that stimulants are not needful

to health, and that, as the general rule, they tend to debilitate

the constitution. Is it right, then, for a parent to tempt a child

to drink what is not needful, when there is a probability that it

will prove, to some extent, an undermining drain on the constitution?

Some constitutions can bear much less excitement than others; and in

every family of children there is usually one or more of delicate

organization, and consequently peculiarly exposed to dangers from

this source. It is this child who ordinarily becomes the victim to

stimulating drinks. The tea and coffee which the parents and the

healthier children can use without immediate injury gradually sap the

energies of the feebler child, who proves either an early victim or a

living martyr to all the sufferings that debilitated nerves inflict.

Can it be right to lead children where all allow that there is some

danger, and where in many cases disease and death are met, when another

path is known to be perfectly safe?

The impression common in this country, that _warm drinks_, especially

in winter, are more healthful than cold, is not warranted by any

experience, nor by the laws of the physical system. At dinner cold

drinks are universal, and no one deems them injurious. It is only at

the other two meals that they are supposed to be hurtful.

“_Water_ is a safe drink for all constitutions, provided it be resorted

to in obedience to the dictates of natural thirst only, and not of

habit. Unless the desire for it is felt, there is no occasion for its

use during a meal.

“The primary effect of all distilled and fermented liquors is to

_stimulate the nervous system and quicken the circulation_. In infancy

and childhood the circulation is rapid and easily excited, and the

nervous system is strongly acted upon even by the slightest external

impressions. Hence, slight causes of irritation readily excite febrile

and convulsive disorders. In youth, the natural tendency of the

constitution is still to excitement, and consequently, as a general

rule, the stimulus of fermented liquors is injurious.”

These remarks by Dr. Combe show that parents, who find that stimulating

drinks are not injurious to themselves, may mistake in inferring from

this that they will not be injurious to their children.

He continues thus: “In mature age, when digestion is good, and the

system in full vigor, if the mode of life be not too exhausting, the

nervous functions and general circulation are in their best condition,

and require no stimulus for their support. The bodily energy is

then easily sustained by nutritious food and a regular regimen, and

consequently artificial excitement only increases the wasting of the

natural strength.”

It may be asked, in this connection, why the stimulus of animal food

is not to be regarded in the same light as that of stimulating drinks.

In reply, a very essential difference may be pointed out. Animal food

furnishes nutriment to the organs which it stimulates, but stimulating

drinks excite the organs to quickened action without affording any

nourishment.

It has been supposed by some that tea and coffee have at least a degree

of nourishing power. But it is proved that it is the milk and sugar,

and not the main portion of the drink, which imparts the nourishment.

Tea has not one particle of nourishing properties; and what little

exists in the coffee-berry is lost by roasting it in the usual mode.

All that these articles do is simply to _stimulate without nourishing_.

Although there is little hope of banishing these drinks, there is still

a chance that something may be gained in attempts to regulate their use

by the rules of temperance. If, then, a housekeeper can not banish tea

and coffee entirely, she may use her influence to prevent excess, both

by her instructions, and by the power of control committed more or less

to her hands.

It is important for every housekeeper to know that the health of a

family very much depends on the _purity_ of water used for cooking and

drinking. There are three causes of impure and unhealthful water.

One is, the existence in it of vegetable or animal matter, which can

be remedied by filtering through sand and charcoal. Another cause is,

the existence of mineral matter, especially in limestone countries,

producing diseases of the bladder. This is remedied, in a measure,

by boiling, which secures a deposit of the lime on the vessel used.

The third cause is, the corroding of zinc and lead used in pipes and

reservoirs, producing oxides that are slow poisons. The only remedy is

prevention, by having supply-pipes made of iron, like gas-pipe, instead

of zinc and lead; or the lately invented lead pipe lined with tin,

which metal is not corrosive. The obstacle to this is, that the trade

of the plumbers would be greatly diminished by the use of reliable

pipes. When water must be used from supply-pipes of lead or zinc, it is

well to let the water run some time before drinking it, and to use as

little as possible, taking milk instead; and being further satisfied

for inner necessities by the water supplied by fruits and vegetables.

The water in these is always pure. But in using milk as a drink, it

must be remembered that it is also rich food, and that less of other

food must be taken when milk is thus used, or bilious troubles will

result from excess of food.

The use of opium, especially by women, is usually caused at first by

medical prescriptions containing it. All that has been stated as to

the effect of alcohol in the brain is true of opium, while to break a

habit thus induced is almost hopeless. Every woman who takes or who

administers this drug is dealing as with poisoned arrows, whose wounds

are without cure.

The use of tobacco in this country, and especially among young boys,

is increasing at a fearful rate. On this subject we have the unanimous

opinion of all medical men, the following being specimens.

A distinguished medical writer thus states the case: “Every physician

knows that the agreeable sensations that tempt to the use of tobacco

are caused by _nicotine_, which is a rank poison, as much so as prussic

acid or arsenic. When smoked, the poison is absorbed by the blood

of the mouth, and carried to the brain. When chewed, the nicotine

passes to the blood through the mouth and stomach. In both cases, the

whole nervous system is thrown into abnormal excitement to expel the

poison, and it is this excitement that causes agreeable sensations.

The excitement thus caused is invariably followed by a diminution of

nervous power, in exact proportion to the preceding excitement to expel

the evil from the system.”