not only the basis of most liquors, but also composes a great part of
our solid food. Good water must therefore be of the greatest importance
in diet. The best water is that which is most pure, and free from any
mixture of foreign bodies. Water takes up parts of most bodies with
which it comes into contact; by this means it is often impregnated with
metals or minerals of a hurtful or poisonous nature. Hence the
inhabitants of some hilly countries have peculiar diseases, which in all
probability proceed from the water. Thus the people who live near the
Alps in Switzerland, and the inhabitants of the Peak of Derby in
England, have large tumours or wens on their necks. This disease is
generally imputed to the snow water; but there is more reason to believe
it is owing to the minerals in the mountains through which the waters
pass.
When water is impregnated with foreign bodies, it generally appears by
its weight, colour, taste, smell, heat, or some other sensible quality.
Our business therefore is to chuse such water, for common use, as is
lightest, and without any particular colour, taste, or smell. In most
places of Britain the inhabitants have it in their power to make choice
of their water; and few things would contribute more to health than a
due attention to this article. But mere indolence often induces people
to make use of the water that is nearest to them, without considering
its qualities.
Before water is brought into great towns, the strictest attention ought
to be paid to its qualities, as many diseases may be occasioned or
aggravated by bad water; and when once it has been procured at a great
expence, people are unwilling to give it up.
The common methods of rendering water clear by filtration, or soft, by
exposing it to the sun and air, &c. are so generally known, that it is
unnecessary to spend time in explaining them. We shall only, in general,
advise all to avoid waters which stagnate long in small lakes, ponds, or
the like, as such waters often become putrid, by the corruption of
animal and vegetable bodies with which they abound. Even cattle
frequently suffer by drinking, in dry seasons, water which has stood
long in small reservoirs, without being supplied by springs, or
freshened with showers. All wells ought to be kept clean, and to have a
free communication with the air.
As fermented liquors, notwithstanding they have been exclaimed against
by many writers, still continue to be the common drink of almost every
person who can afford them; we shall rather endeavour to assist people
in the choice of these liquors, than pretend to condemn what custom has
so firmly established. It is not the moderate use of sound fermented
liquors which hurts mankind: it is excess, and using such as are ill
prepared or vitiated.
Fermented liquors, which are too strong, hurt digestion; and the body is
so far from being strengthened by them, that it is weakened and relaxed.
Many imagine that hard labour could not be supported without drinking
strong liquors: this is a very erroneous notion. Men who never taste
strong liquors are not only able to endure more fatigue, but also live
much longer, than those who use them daily. But, suppose strong liquors
did enable a man to do more work, they must nevertheless waste the
powers of life, and occasion premature old age. They keep up a constant
fever, which exhausts the spirits, inflames the blood, and disposes the
body to numberless diseases.
But fermented liquors may be too weak as well as too strong: when that
is the case, they must either be drank new, or they become sour and
dead: when such liquors are drank new, the fermentation not being over,
they generate air in the bowels, and occasion flatulencies; and, when
kept till stale, they turn sour on the stomach, and hurt digestion. For
this reason all malt liquors, cider, &c. ought to be of such strength as
to keep till they be ripe, and then they should be used. When such
liquors are kept too long, though they should not become sour, yet they
generally contract a hardness, which renders them unwholesome.
All families, who can, ought to prepare their own liquors. Since
preparing and vending of liquors became one of the most general branches
of business, every method has been tried to adulterate them. The great
object both to the makers and venders of liquor is, to render it
intoxicating, and give it the appearance of age. But it is well known
that this may be done by other ingredients than those which ought to be
used for making it strong. It would be imprudent even to name those
things which are daily made use of to render liquors heady. Suffice it
to say, that the practice is very common, and that all the ingredients
used for this purpose are of a narcotic or stupefactive quality. But as
all opiates are poisonous, it is easy to see what must be the
consequence of their general use. Though they do not kill suddenly, yet
they hurt the nerves, relax and weaken the stomach, and spoil the
digestion.
Were fermented liquors faithfully prepared, kept to a proper age, and
used in moderation, they would prove real blessings to mankind. But,
while they are ill prepared, various ways adulterated, and taken to
excess, they must have many pernicious effects.
We would recommend it to families, not only to prepare their own
liquors, but likewise their bread. Bread is so necessary a part of diet,
that too much care cannot be bestowed in order to have it sound and
wholesome. For this purpose, it is not only necessary that it be made of
good grain, but likewise properly prepared, and kept free from all
unwholesome ingredients. This, however, we have reason to believe is not
always the case with bread prepared by those who make a trade of vending
it. Their object is rather to please the eye, than to consult the
health. The best bread is that which is neither too coarse nor too fine;
well fermented and made of wheat flour, or rather of wheat and rye mixed
together.
To specify the different kinds of aliment, to explain their nature and
properties, and to point out their effects in different constitutions,
would far exceed the limits of our design. Instead of a detail of this
kind, which would not be generally understood, and of course little
attended to, we shall only mention the following easy rules with respect
to the choice of aliment.
Persons, whose solids are weak and relaxed, ought to avoid all viscid
food, or such things as are hard of digestion. Their diet, however,
ought to be nourishing; and they should take sufficient exercise in the
open air.
Such as abound with blood should be sparing in the use of every thing
that is highly nourishing, as fat meat, rich wines, strong ale, and such
like. Their food should consist chiefly of bread and other vegetable
substances; and their drink ought to be water, whey, or small beer.
Fat people should not eat freely of oily nourishing diet. They ought
frequently to use raddish, garlic, spices, or such things as are heating
and promote perspiration and urine. Their drink should be water, coffee,
tea, or the like; and they ought to take much exercise and little sleep.
Those who are too lean must follow an opposite course.
Such as are troubled with acidities, or whose food is apt to sour on the
stomach, should live much on animal food; and those who are afflicted
with hot alkaline eructations, ought to use a diet consisting chiefly of
acid vegetables.
People who are affected with the gout, low spirits, hypochondriac or
hysteric disorders, ought to avoid all flatulent food, every thing that
is viscid, or hard of digestion, all salted or smoke-dried provisions,
and whatever is austere, acid, or apt to turn sour on the stomach. Their
food should be light, spare, cool, and of an opening nature.
The diet ought not only to be suited to the age and constitution, but
also to the manner of life: a sedentary or studious person should live
more sparingly than one who labours hard without doors. Many kinds of
food will nourish a peasant very well which would be almost indigestible
to a citizen; and the latter will live upon a diet on which the former
would starve.
Diet ought not to be too uniform. The constant use of one kind of food
might have some bad effects. Nature teaches us this, by the great
variety of aliment which she has provided for man, and likewise by
giving him an appetite for different kinds of food.
Those who labour under any particular disease, ought to avoid such
aliments as have a tendency to increase it: for example, a gouty person
should not indulge in rich wines, strong soups, or gravies, and should
avoid all acids. One who is troubled with the gravel ought to shun all
austere and astringent aliments; and those who are scorbutic should be
sparing in the use of salted provisions, &c.
In the first period of life, our food ought to be light, but nourishing,
and frequently taken. Food that is solid, with a sufficient degree of
tenacity, is most proper for the state of manhood. The diet suited to
the last period of life, when nature is upon the decline, approaches
nearly to that of the first. It should be lighter and more succulent
than that of vigorous age, and likewise more frequently taken.
It is not only necessary for health that our diet be wholesome, but also
that it be taken at regular periods. Some imagine long fasting will
atone for excess; but this, instead of mending the matter, generally
makes it worse. When the stomach and intestines are over-distended with
food, they lose their proper tone, and, by long fasting, they become
weak, and inflated with wind. Thus, either gluttony or fasting destroys
the powers of digestion.
The frequent repetition of aliment is not only necessary for repairing
the continual waste of our bodies, but likewise to keep the fluids sound
and sweet. Our humours, even in the most healthy state, have a constant
tendency to putrefaction, which can only be prevented by frequent
supplies of fresh nourishment: when that is wanting too long, the
putrefaction often proceeds so far as to occasion very dangerous fevers.
From hence we may learn the necessity of regular meals. No person can
enjoy a good state of health, whose vessels are either frequently
overcharged, or the humours long deprived of fresh supplies of chyle.
Long fasting is extremely hurtful to young people; it not only vitiates
their humours, but prevents their growth. Nor is it less injurious to
the aged. Most persons, in the decline of life, are afflicted with wind:
this complaint is not only increased, but even rendered dangerous, and
often fatal, by long fasting. Old people, when their stomachs are empty,
are frequently seized with giddiness, head-achs, and faintness. These
complaints may generally be removed by a piece of bread and a glass of
wine, or taking any other solid food; which plainly points out the
method of preventing them.
It is more than probable, that many of the sudden deaths, which happen
in the advanced periods of life, are occasioned by fasting too long, as
it exhausts the spirits, and fills the bowels with wind; we would
therefore advise people, in the decline of life, never to allow their
stomachs to be too long empty. Many people take nothing but a few cups
of tea and a little bread, from nine o’clock at night till two or three
next afternoon. Such may be said to fast almost three-fourths of their
time. This can hardly fail to ruin the appetite, vitiate the humours,
and fill the bowels with wind; all which might be prevented by a solid
breakfast.
It is a very common practice to eat a light breakfast and a heavy
supper. This custom ought to be reversed. When people sup late, their
supper should be very light; but the breakfast ought always to be solid.
If any one eats a light supper, goes soon to bed, and rises betimes in
the morning, he will be sure to find an appetite for his breakfast, and
he may freely indulge it.
The strong and healthy do not indeed suffer so much from fasting as the
weak and delicate; but they run great hazard from its opposite, _viz._
repletion. Many diseases, especially fevers, are the effect of a
plethora, or too great fulness of the vessels. Strong people, in high
health, have generally a great quantity of blood and other humours. When
these are suddenly increased, by an overcharge of rich and nourishing
diet, the vessels become too much distended, and obstructions and
inflammations ensue. Hence so many people are seized with inflammatory
and eruptive fevers after a feast or debauch.
All great and sudden changes in diet are dangerous. What the stomach has
been long accustomed to digest, though less wholesome, will agree better
with it than food of a more salutary nature which it has not been used
to. When therefore a change becomes necessary, it ought always to be
made gradually; a sudden transition from a poor and low, to a rich and
luxurious diet, or the contrary, might so disturb the functions of the
body as to endanger health, or even to occasion death itself.
When we recommend regularity in diet, we would not be understood as
condemning every small deviation from it. It is next to impossible for
people at all times to avoid some degree of excess, and living too much
by rule might make even the smallest deviation dangerous. It may
therefore be prudent to vary a little, sometimes taking more, sometimes
less, than the usual quantity of meat and drink, provided always that a
due regard be had to moderation.
CHAP. IV.
OF AIR.
Unwholesome air is a very common cause of diseases. Few are aware of the
danger arising from it. People generally pay some attention to what they
eat and drink, but seldom regard what goes into the lungs, though the
latter proves often more suddenly fatal than the former.
Air, as well as water, takes up parts of most bodies with which it comes
in contact, and is often so replenished with those of a noxious quality,
as to occasion immediate death. But such violent effects seldom happen,
as people are generally on their guard against them. The less
perceptible influences of bad air prove more generally hurtful to
mankind; we shall therefore endeavour to point out some of these, and to
shew from whence the danger chiefly arises.
Air may become noxious many ways. Whatever greatly alters its degree of
heat, cold, moisture, &c. renders it unwholesome: for example, that
which is too hot dissipates the watry parts of the blood, exalts the
bile, and renders the whole humour adust and thick. Hence proceed
bilious and inflammatory fevers, cholera morbus, &c. Very cold air
obstructs the perspiration, constringes the solids, and condenses the
fluids. It occasions rheumatisms, coughs, and catarrhs, with other
diseases of the throat and breast. Air that is too moist destroys the
elasticity or spring of the solids, induces phlegmatic or lax
constitutions, and disposes the body to agues, or intermitting fevers,
dropsies, &c.
Wherever great numbers of people are crowded into one place, if the air
has not a free circulation, it soon becomes unwholesome. Hence it is
that delicate persons are so apt to turn sick or faint in crowded
churches, assemblies, or any place where the air is injured by
breathing, fires, candles, or the like.
In great cities so many things tend to contaminate the air, that it is
no wonder it proves so fatal to the inhabitants. The air in cities is
not only breathed repeatedly over, but is likewise loaded with sulphur,
smoke, and other exhalations, besides the vapours continually arising
from innumerable putrid substances, as dunghills, slaughterhouses, &c.
All possible care should be taken to keep the streets of large towns
open and wide, that the air may have a free current through them. They
ought likewise to be kept very clean. Nothing tends more to pollute and
contaminate the air of a city than dirty streets.
It is very common in this country to have church-yards in the middle of
populous cities. Whether this be the effect of ancient superstition, or
owing to the increase of such towns, is a matter of no consequence.
Whatever gave rise to the custom, it is a bad one. It is habit alone
which reconciles us to these things; by means of which the most
ridiculous, nay pernicious customs, often become sacred. Certain it is,
that thousands of putrid carcasses, so near the surface of the earth, in
a place where the air is confined, cannot fail to taint it; and that
such air, when breathed into the lungs, must occasion diseases[28].
Burying within churches is a practice still more detestable. The air in
churches is seldom good, and the effluvia from putrid carcasses must
render it still worse. Churches are commonly old buildings with arched
roofs. They are seldom open above once a week, are never ventilated by
fires nor open windows, and rarely kept clean. This occasions that damp,
musty, unwholesome smell which one feels upon entering a church, and
renders it a very unsafe place for the weak and valetudinary. These
inconveniences might, in a great measure, be obviated, by prohibiting
all persons from burying within churches, by keeping them clean, and
permitting a stream of fresh air to pass frequently through them, by
opening opposite doors and windows[29].
Wherever air stagnates long, it becomes unwholesome. Hence the unhappy
persons confined in jails not only contract malignant fevers themselves,
but often communicate them to others. Nor are many of the holes, for we
cannot call them houses, possessed by the poor in great towns, much
better than jails. These low dirty habitations are the very
lurking-places of bad air and contagious diseases. Such as live in them
seldom enjoy good health; and their children commonly die young. In the
choice of a house, those who have it in their power ought always to pay
the greatest attention to open free air.
The various methods which luxury has invented to make houses close and
warm, contribute not a little to render them unwholesome. No house can
be wholesome unless the air has a free passage through it. For which
reason houses ought daily to be ventilated, by opening opposite windows,
and admitting a current of fresh air into every room. Beds, instead of
being made up as soon as people rise out of them, ought to be turned
down, and exposed to the fresh air from the open windows through the
day. This would expel any noxious vapour, and could not fail to promote
the health of the inhabitants.
In hospitals, jails, ships, &c. where that cannot be conveniently done,
ventilators should be used. The method of expelling foul, and
introducing fresh air, by means of ventilators, is a most salutary
invention, and is indeed the most useful of all our modern medical
improvements. It is capable of universal application, and is fraught
with numerous advantages, both to those in health and sickness. In all
places, where numbers of people are crowded together, ventilation
becomes absolutely necessary.
Air which stagnates in mines, wells, cellars, &c. is extremely noxious.
That kind of air is to be avoided as the most deadly poison. It often
kills almost as quickly as lightning. For this reason, people should be
very cautious in opening cellars that have been long shut, or going down
into deep wells or pits, especially if they have been kept close
covered[30].
Many people who have splendid houses, chuse to sleep in small
apartments. This conduct is very imprudent. A bed-chamber ought always
to be well-aired; as it is generally occupied in the night only, when
all doors and windows are shut. If a fire be kept in it, the danger from
a small room becomes still greater. Numbers have been stifled when
asleep by a fire in a small apartment, which is always hurtful.
Those who are obliged, on account of business, to spend the day in close
towns, ought, if possible, to sleep in the country. Breathing free air
in the night will, in some measure, make up for the want of it through
the day. This practice would have a greater effect in preserving the
health of citizens than is commonly imagined.
Delicate persons ought, as much as possible, to avoid the air of great
towns. It is peculiarly hurtful to the asthmatic and consumptive. Such
persons should avoid cities as they would the plague. The hypochondriac
are likewise much hurt by it. I have often seen persons so much
afflicted with this malady while in town, that it seemed impossible for
them to live, who, upon being removed to the country, were immediately
relieved. The same observation holds with regard to nervous and hysteric
women. Many people, indeed, have it not in their power to change their
situation in quest of better air. All we can say to such persons is,
that they should go as often abroad into the open air as they can, that
they should admit fresh air frequently into their houses, and take care
to keep them very clean.
It was necessary in former times, for safety, to surround cities,
colleges, and even single houses, with high walls. These, by obstructing
the free current of air, never fail to render such places damp and
unwholesome. As such walls are now, in most parts of this country,
become useless, they ought to be pulled down, and every method taken to
admit a free passage to the air. Proper attention to AIR and CLEANLINESS
would tend more to preserve the health of mankind, than all the
endeavours of the faculty.
Surrounding houses too closely with planting, or thick woods, likewise
tends to render the air unwholesome. Wood not only obstructs the free
current of the air, but sends forth great quantities of moist
exhalations, which render it constantly damp. Wood is very agreeable at
a proper distance from a house, but should never be planted too near it,
especially in a flat country. Many of the gentlemen’s seats in England
are rendered very unwholesome from the great quantity of wood which
surrounds them.
Houses situated in low marshy countries, or near large lakes of
stagnating water, are likewise unwholesome. Waters which stagnate not
only render the air damp, but load it with putrid exhalations, which
produce the most dangerous and fatal diseases. Those who are obliged to
inhabit marshy countries, ought to make choice of the dryest situations
they can find, to live generously, and to pay the strictest regard to
cleanliness.
If fresh air be necessary for those in health, it is still more so for
the sick, who often lose their lives for want of it. The notion that
sick people must be kept very hot, is so common, that one can hardly
enter the chamber where a patient lies, without being ready to faint, by
reason of the hot suffocating smell. How this must affect the sick any
one may judge. No medicine is so beneficial to the sick as fresh air. It
is the most reviving of all cordials, if it be administered with
prudence. We are not, however, to throw open doors and windows at random
upon the sick. Fresh air is to be let into the chamber gradually, and,
if possible, by opening the windows of some other apartment.
The air of a sick person’s chamber may be greatly freshened, and the
patient much revived, by sprinkling the floor, bed, &c. frequently with
vinegar, juice of lemon, or any other strong vegetable acid.
In places where numbers of sick are crowded into the same house, or,
which is often the case, into the same apartment, the frequent admission
of fresh air becomes absolutely necessary. Infirmaries, hospitals, &c.
are often rendered so noxious, for want of proper ventilation, that the
sick run more hazard from them than from the disease. This is
particularly the case when putrid fevers, dysenteries, and other
infectious diseases prevail.
Physicians, surgeons, and others who attend hospitals, ought, for their
own safety, to take care that they be properly ventilated. Such persons
as are obliged to spend most of their time amongst the sick, run great
hazard of being themselves infected when the air is bad. All hospitals,
and places of reception for the sick, ought to have an open situation,
at some distance from any great town, and such patients as labour under
any infectious disease ought never to be suffered to come near the
rest[31].
CHAP. V.
OF EXERCISE.
Many people look upon the necessity man is under of earning his bread by
labour, as a curse. Be this as it may, it is evident from the structure
of the body, that exercise is not less necessary than food for the
preservation of health: those whom poverty obliges to labour for daily
bread, are not only the most healthy, but generally the most happy part
of mankind. Industry seldom fails to place them above want, and activity
serves them instead of physic. This is peculiarly the case with those
who live by the culture of the ground. The great increase of inhabitants
in infant colonies, and the longevity of such as follow agriculture
every where, evidently prove it to be the most healthful as well as the
most useful employment.
The love of activity shews itself very early in man. So strong is this
principle, that a healthy youth cannot be restrained from exercise, even
by the fear of punishment. Our love of motion is surely a strong proof
of its utility. Nature implants no disposition in vain. It seems to be a
catholic law throughout the whole animal creation, that no creature,
without exercise, should enjoy health, or be able to find subsistence.
Every creature, except man, takes as much of it as is necessary. He
alone, and such animals as are under his direction, deviate from this
original law, and they suffer accordingly.
Inactivity never fails to induce an universal relaxation of the solids,
which disposes the body to innumerable diseases. When the solids are
relaxed, neither the digestion, nor any of the secretions, can be duly
performed. In this case, the worst consequences must ensue. How can
persons who loll all day in easy chairs, and sleep all night on beds of
down, fail to be relaxed? Nor do such greatly mend the matter, who never
stir abroad but in a coach, sedan, or such like. These elegant pieces of
luxury are become so common, that the inhabitants of great towns seem to
be in some danger of losing the use of their limbs altogether. It is now
below any one to walk, who can afford to be carried. How ridiculous
would it seem, to a person unacquainted with modern luxury, to behold
the young and healthy swinging along on the shoulders of their
fellow-creatures! or to see a fat carcase, over-run with diseases
occasioned by inactivity, dragged through the streets by half a dozen
horses[32]!
Glandular obstructions, now so common, generally proceed from
inactivity. These are the most obstinate of maladies. So long as the
liver, kidnies, and other glands, duly perform their functions, health
is seldom impaired; but, when they fail, nothing can restore it.
Exercise is almost the only cure we know for glandular obstructions;
indeed, it does not always succeed as a remedy; but there is reason to
believe that it would seldom fail to prevent these complaints, were it
used in due time. One thing is certain, that, amongst those who take
sufficient exercise, glandular diseases are very little known; whereas
the indolent and inactive are seldom free from them.
Weak nerves are the constant companions of inactivity. Nothing but
exercise and open air can brace and strengthen the nerves, or prevent
the endless train of diseases which proceed from a relaxed state of
these organs. We seldom hear the active or laborious complain of nervous
diseases; these are reserved for the sons of ease and affluence. Many
have been completely cured of these disorders by being reduced, from a
stare of opulence, to labour for their daily bread. This plainly points
out the sources from whence nervous diseases flow, and the means by
which they may be prevented.
It is absolutely impossible to enjoy health, where the perspiration is
not duly carried on; but that can never be the case where exercise is
neglected. When the matter which ought to be thrown off by perspiration
is retained in the body, it vitiates the humours, and occasions the
gout, fevers, rheumatism, &c. Exercise alone would prevent many of those
diseases which cannot be cured, and would remove others where medicine
proves ineffectual.
A late author[33], in his excellent treatise on health, says, that the
weak and valetudinary ought to make exercise a part of their religion.
We would recommend this, not only to the weak and valetudinary, but to
all whose business does not oblige them to take sufficient exercise, as
sedentary artificers[34], shop-keepers, studious persons, &c. Such ought
to use exercise as regularly as they take food. This might generally be
done without any interruption to business or real loss of time.
No piece of indolence hurts the health more than the modern custom of
lying a-bed too long in a morning. This is the general practice in great
towns. The inhabitants of cities seldom rise before eight or nine
o’clock; but the morning is undoubtedly the best time for exercise,
while the stomach is empty, and the body refreshed with sleep. Besides,
the morning air braces and strengthens the nerves, and, in some measure,
answers the purpose of a cold bath. Let any one who has been accustomed
to lie a-bed till eight or nine o’clock, rise by six or seven, spend a
couple of hours in walking, riding, or any active diversion without
doors, and he will find his spirits cheerful and serene through the day,
his appetite keen, and his body braced and strengthened. Custom soon
renders early rising agreeable, and nothing contributes more to the
preservation of health.
The inactive are continually complaining of pains of the stomach,
flatulencies, indigestions, &c. These complaints, which pave the way to
many others, are not to be removed by medicines. They can only be cured
by a vigorous course of exercise, to which indeed they seldom fail to
yield.
Exercise, if possible, ought always to be taken in the open air. When
that cannot be done, various methods may be contrived for exercising the
body within doors, as the dumb bell, dancing, fencing, &c. It is not
necessary to adhere strictly to any particular kind of exercise. The
best way is to take them by turns, and to use that longest which is most
suitable to the strength and constitution. Those kinds of exercise which
give action to most of the bodily organs, are always to be preferred, as
walking, running, riding, digging, swimming, and such like.
It is much to be regretted, that active and manly diversions are now so
little practised. Diversions make people take more exercise than they
otherwise would do, and are of the greatest service to such as are not
under the necessity of labouring for their bread. As active diversions
lose ground, those of a sedentary kind seem to prevail. Sedentary
diversions are of no other use but to consume time. Instead of relieving
the mind, they often require more thought than either study or business.
Every thing that induces people to sit still, unless it be some
necessary employment, ought to be avoided.
The diversions which afford the best exercise are, hunting, shooting,
playing at cricket, handball, golf[35], &c. These exercise the limbs,
promote perspiration, and the other secretions. They likewise strengthen
the lungs, and give firmness and agility to the whole body.
Such as can, ought to spend two or three hours a-day on horseback; those
who cannot ride, should employ the same time in walking. Exercise should
never be continued too long. Over-fatigue prevents the benefit of
exercise, and instead of strengthening the body tends to weaken it.
Every man should lay himself under some sort of necessity to take
exercise. Indolence, like other vices when indulged, gains ground, and
at length becomes agreeable. Hence many who were fond of exercise in the
early part of life, become quite averse from it afterwards. This is the
case of most hypochondriac and gouty people, which renders their
diseases in a great measure incurable.
In some countries laws have been made, obliging every man, of whatever
rank, to learn some mechanical employment. Whether such laws were
designed for the preservation of health, or the encouragement of
manufacture, is a question of no importance, Certain it is, that if
gentlemen were frequently to amuse and exercise themselves in this way,
it might have many good effects. They would at least derive as much
honour from a few masterly specimens of their own workmanship, as from
the character of having ruined most of their companions by gaming or
drinking. Besides, men of leisure, by applying themselves to the
mechanical arts, might improve them, to the great benefit of society.
Indolence not only occasions diseases, and renders men useless to
society, but promotes all manner of vice. To say a man is idle, is
little better than to call him vicious. The mind, if not engaged in some
useful pursuit, is constantly in quest of ideal pleasures, or impressed
with the apprehension of some imaginary evil. From these sources proceed
most of the miseries of mankind. Certainly man was never intended to be
idle. Inactivity frustrates the very design of his creation; whereas an
active life is the best guardian of virtue, and the greatest
preservative of health.
CHAP. VI.
OF SLEEP AND CLOTHING.
Sleep, as well as diet, ought to be duly regulated. Too little sleep
weakens the nerves, exhausts the spirits, and occasions diseases; and
too much renders the mind dull, the body gross, and disposes to
apoplexies, lethargies, and other complaints of a similar nature. A
medium ought therefore to be observed; but this is not easy to fix.
Children require more sleep than grown persons, the laborious than the
idle, and such as eat and drink freely, than those who live
abstemiously. Besides, the real quantity of sleep cannot be measured by
time; as one person will be more refreshed by five or six hours sleep,
than another by eight or ten.
Children may always be allowed to take as much sleep as they please;
but, for adults, six or seven hours is certainly sufficient, and no one
ought to exceed eight. Those who lie a-bed more than eight hours may
slumber, but they can hardly be said to sleep; such generally toss and
dream away the fore-part of the night, sink to rest towards morning, and
dose till noon. The best way to make sleep sound and refreshing is to
rise betimes. The custom of lying a-bed for nine or ten hours, not only
makes the sleep less refreshing, but relaxes the solids, and greatly
weakens the constitution.
Nature points out night as the proper season for sleep. Nothing more
certainly destroys the constitution than night-watching. It is great
pity that a practice so destructive to health should be so much in
fashion. How quickly the want of rest in due season will blast the most
blooming complexion, or ruin the best constitution, is evident from the
ghastly countenances of those who, as the phrase is, turn day into
night, and night into day.
To make sleep refreshing, the following things are requisite: First, to
take sufficient exercise in the open air; to avoid strong tea or coffee;
next, to eat a light supper; and lastly, to lie down with a mind as
cheerful and serene as possible.
It is certain that too much exercise will prevent sleep, as well as too
little. We seldom however hear the active and laborious complain of
restless nights. It is the indolent and slothful who generally have
these complaints. Is it any wonder that a bed of down should not be
refreshing to a person who sits all day in an easy chair? A great part
of the pleasure of life consists in alternate rest and motion; but they
who neglect the latter can never relish the former. The labourer enjoys
more true luxury in plain food and sound sleep, than is to be found in
sumptuous tables and downy pillows, where exercise is wanting.
That light suppers cause sound sleep, is true even to a proverb. Many
persons, if they exceed the least at that meal, are sure to have uneasy
nights; and, if they fall asleep, the load and oppression on their
stomach and spirits occasion frightful dreams, broken and disturbed
repose, the night-mare, &c. Were the same persons to go to bed with a
light supper, or sit up till that meal was pretty well digested, they
would enjoy sound sleep, and rise refreshed and cheerful. There are
indeed some people who cannot sleep unless they have eat some solid food
at night, but this does not imply the necessity of a heavy supper;
besides, these are generally persons who have accustomed themselves to
this method, and who do not take a sufficient quantity of solid food and
exercise.
Nothing more certainly disturbs our repose than anxiety. When the mind
is not at ease, one seldom enjoys sound sleep. The greatest of human
blessings flies the wretched, and visits the happy, the cheerful, and
the gay. This is a sufficient reason why every man should endeavour to
be as easy in his mind as possible when he goes to rest. Many, by
indulging grief and anxious thought, have banished sound sleep so long,
that they could never afterwards enjoy it.
Sleep, when taken in the fore-part of the night, is generally reckoned
most refreshing. Whether this be the effect of habit or not, is hard to
say; but as most people are accustomed to go early to bed when young, it
may be presumed that sleep, at this season, will prove most refreshing
to them ever after. Whether the fore-part of the night be best for sleep
or not, surely the fore-part of the day is fitted both for business and
amusement. I hardly ever knew an early riser who did not enjoy a good
state of health[36].
_Of Clothing._
The clothing ought to be suited to the climate. Custom has no doubt a
very great influence in this article; but no custom can ever change the
nature of things so far, as to render the same clothing fit for an
inhabitant of Nova Zembla and the island of Jamaica. It is not indeed
necessary to observe an exact proportion between the quantity of clothes
we wear, and the degree of latitude which we inhabit; but, at the same
time, proper attention ought to be paid to it, as well as to the
openness of the country, the frequency and violence of storms, &c.
In youth, while the blood is hot and the perspiration free, it is less
necessary to cover the body with a great quantity of clothes; but, in
the decline of life, when the skin becomes rigid and the humours more
cool, the clothing should be increased. Many diseases in the latter
period of life proceed from a defect of perspiration: these may, in some
measure, be prevented by a suitable addition to the clothing, or by
wearing such as are better calculated for promoting the discharge from
the skin, as clothes made of cotton, flannel, &c.
The clothing ought likewise to be suited to the season of the year.
Clothing may be warm enough for summer, which is by no means sufficient
for winter. The greatest caution, however, is necessary in making these
changes. We ought neither to put off our winter clothes too soon, nor to
wear our summer ones too long. In this country, the winter often sets in
very early with great rigour, and we have frequently cold weather even
after the commencement of the summer months. It would likewise be
prudent not to make the change all at once, but to do it gradually; and
indeed the changes of apparel in this climate ought to be very
inconsiderable, especially among those who have passed the meridian of
life[37].
Clothes often become hurtful by their being made subservient to the
purposes of pride or vanity. Mankind in all ages seem to have considered
clothes in this view; accordingly their fashion and figure have been
continually varying, with very little regard either to health, the
climate, or conveniency: a farthingale, for example, may be very
necessary in hot southern climates, but surely nothing can be more
ridiculous in the cold regions of the north.
Even the human shape is often attempted to be mended by dress, and those
who know no better believe that mankind would be monsters without its
assistance. All attempts of this nature are highly pernicious. The most
destructive of them in this country is that of squeezing the stomach and
bowels into as narrow a compass as possible, to procure, what is falsely
called, a fine shape[38]. By this practice the action of the stomach and
bowels, the motion of the heart and lungs, and almost all the vital
functions, are obstructed. Hence proceed indigestions, syncopes, or
fainting fits, coughs, consumptions of the lungs, and other complaints
so common among females.
The feet likewise often suffer by pressure. How a small foot came to be
reckoned genteel, I will not pretend to say; but certain it is, that
this notion has made many persons lame. Almost nine-tenths of mankind
are troubled with corns: a disease that is seldom or never occasioned
but by strait shoes. Corns are not only very troublesome, but by
rendering people unable to walk, they may likewise be considered as the
remote cause of other diseases[39].
The size and figure of the shoe ought certainly to be adapted to the
foot. In children the feet are as well shaped as the hands, and the
motion of the toes as free and easy as that of the fingers; yet few
persons in the advanced periods of life are able to make any use of
their toes. They are generally, by narrow shoes, squeezed all of a heap,
and often laid over one another in such a manner as to be rendered
altogether incapable of motion. Nor is the high heel less hurtful than
the narrow toe. A lady may seem taller for walking on her tiptoes, but
she will never walk well in this manner. It strains her joints, distorts
her limbs, makes her stoop, and utterly destroys all her ease and
gracefulness of motion: it is entirely owing to shoes with high heels
and narrow toes, that not one female in ten can be said to walk well.
In fixing on the clothes, due care should be taken to avoid all tight
bandages. Garters, buckles, &c. when drawn too tight, not only prevent
the free motion and use of the parts about which they are bound, but
likewise obstruct the circulation of the blood, which prevents the equal
nourishment and growth of these parts, and occasions various diseases.
Tight bandages about the neck, as stocks, cravats, necklaces, &c. are
extremely dangerous. They obstruct the blood in its course from the
brain, by which means head-achs, vertigoes, apoplexies, and other fatal
diseases are often occasioned.
The perfection of dress is to be easy and clean. Nothing can be more
ridiculous, than for any one to make himself a slave to fine clothes.
Such a one, and many such there are, would rather remain as fixt as a
statue from morning till night, than discompose a single hair or alter
the position of a pin. Were we to recommend any particular pattern for
dress, it would be that which is worn by the people called Quakers. They
are always neat, clean, and often elegant, without any thing
superfluous. What others lay out upon tawdry laces, ruffles, and
ribands, they bestow upon superior cleanliness. Finery is only the
affectation of dress, and very often covers a great deal of dirt.
We shall only add, with regard to clothing, that it ought not only to be
suited to the climate, the season of the year, and the period of life;
but likewise to the temperature and constitution. Robust persons are
able to endure either cold or heat better than the delicate;
consequently may be less attentive to their clothing. But the precise
quantity of clothes necessary for any person cannot be determined by
reasoning. It is entirely a matter of experience, and every man is the
best judge for himself what quantity of clothes is necessary to keep him
warm[40].
CHAP. VII.
OF INTEMPERANCE.
A modern author[41] observes, that temperance and exercise are the two
best physicians in the world. He might have added, that if these were
duly regarded, there would be little occasion for any other. Temperance
may justly be called the parent of health; yet numbers of mankind act as
if they thought diseases and death too slow in their progress, and by
intemperance and debauch seem as it were to solicit their approach.
The danger of intemperance appears from the very construction of the
human body. Health depends on that state of the solids and fluids which
fits them for the due performance of the vital functions; and, while
these go regularly on, we are sound and well; but whatever disturbs them
necessarily impairs health. Intemperance never fails to disorder the
whole animal œconomy; it hurts the digestion, relaxes the nerves,
renders the different secretions irregular, vitiates the humours, and
occasions numberless diseases.
The analogy between the nourishment of plants and animals affords a
striking proof of the danger of intemperance. Moisture and manure
greatly promote vegetation; yet an over-quantity of either will entirely
destroy it. The best things become hurtful, nay destructive, when
carried to excess. Hence we learn, that the highest degree of human
wisdom consists in regulating our appetites and passions so as to avoid
all extremes. It is that chiefly which entitles us to the character of
rational beings. The slave of appetite will ever be the disgrace of
human nature.
The Author of Nature hath endued us with various passions, for the
propagation of the species, the preservation of the individual, &c.
Intemperance is the abuse of these passions; and moderation consists in
the proper regulation of them. Men, not contented with satisfying the
simple calls of Nature, create artificial wants, and are perpetually in
search of something that may gratify them; but imaginary wants can never
be gratified. Nature is content with little; but luxury knows no bounds.
Hence the epicure, the drunkard, and the debauchee, seldom stop in their
career, till their money or their constitution fails: then indeed they
generally see their error when too late.
It is impossible to lay down fixt rules with regard to diet, on account
of the different constitutions of mankind. The most ignorant person,
however, certainly knows what is meant by excess; and it is in the power
of every man, if he chuses, to avoid it.
The great rule of diet is to study simplicity. Nature delights in the
most plain and simple food, and every animal, except man, follows her
dictates. Man alone riots at large, and ransacks the whole creation in
quest of luxuries, to his own destruction. An elegant writer[42] of the
last age speaks thus of intemperance in diet: “For my part, when I
behold a fashionable table set out in all its magnificence, I fancy that
I see gouts and dropsies, fevers and lethargies, with other innumerable
distempers, lying in ambuscade among the dishes.”
Nor is intemperance in other things less destructive than in diet. How
quickly does the immoderate pursuit of carnal pleasures, or the abuse of
intoxicating liquors, ruin the best constitution! Indeed these vices
generally go hand in hand. Hence it is that we so often behold the
votaries of Bacchus and Venus, even before they have arrived at the
prime of life, worn out with diseases, and hasting with swift pace to an
untimely grave. Did men reflect on the painful diseases, and premature
deaths, which are daily occasioned by intemperance, it would be
sufficient to make them shrink back with horror from the indulgence even
of their darling pleasures.
Intemperance does not hurt its votaries alone; the innocent too often
feel the direful effects of it. How many wretched orphans are to be seen
embracing dunghills, whose parents, regardless of the future, spent in
riot and debauch what might have served to bring up their offspring in a
decent manner? How often do we behold the miserable mother, with her
helpless infants, pining in want, while the cruel father is indulging
his insatiate appetites?
Families are not only reduced to misery, but even extirpated, by
intemperance. Nothing tends so much to prevent propagation, and to
shorten the lives of children, as the intemperance of parents. The poor
man who labours all day, and at night lies down contented with his
humble fare, can boast a numerous offspring, while his pampered lord,
sunk in ease and luxury, often languishes without an heir to his ample
fortunes. Even states and empires feel the influence of intemperance,
and rise or fall as it prevails.
Instead of mentioning the different kinds of intemperance, and pointing
out their influence upon health, we shall only, by way of example, make
a few observations on one particular species of that vice, _viz._ the
abuse of intoxicating liquors.
Every act of intoxication puts Nature to the expence of a fever, in
order to discharge the poisonous draught. When this is repeated almost
every day, it is easy to foresee the consequences. That constitution
must be strong indeed, which is able long to hold out under a daily
fever! but fevers occasioned by drinking do not always go off in a day;
they frequently end in an inflammation of the breast, liver, or brain,
and produce fatal effects.
Though the drunkard should not fall by an acute disease, he seldom
escapes those of a chronic kind. Intoxicating liquors, when used to
excess, weaken the bowels and spoil the digestion; they destroy the
power of the nerves, and occasion paralytic and convulsive disorders;
they likewise heat and inflame the blood, destroy its balsamic quality,
render it unfit for circulation, and the nourishment of the body. Hence
obstructions, atrophies, dropsies, and consumptions of the lungs. These
are the common ways in which drunkards make their exit. Diseases of this
kind, when brought on by hard drinking, seldom admit of a cure.
Many people injure their health by drinking, who seldom get drunk. The
continual habit of soaking, as it is called, though its effects be not
so violent, is not less pernicious. When the vessels are kept constantly
full and upon the stretch, the different digestions can neither be duly
performed, nor the humours properly prepared. Hence most people of this
character are afflicted with the gout, the gravel, ulcerous sores in the
legs, &c. If these disorders do not appear, they are seized with low
spirits, hypochondriacal affections, and other symptoms of indigestion.
Consumptions are now so common, that it is thought one-tenth of the
inhabitants of great towns die of that disease. Hard drinking is no
doubt one of the causes to which we must impute the increase of
consumptions. The great quantities of viscid malt liquor drank by the
common people of England, cannot fail to render the blood sizy and unfit
for circulation; from whence proceed obstructions, and inflammations of
the lungs. There are few great ale-drinkers who are not phthisical: nor
is that to be wondered at, considering the glutinous and almost
indigestible nature of strong ale.
Those who drink ardent spirits or strong wines run still greater hazard;
these liquors heat and inflame the blood, and tear the tender vessels of
the lungs to pieces; yet so great is the consumption of them in this
country, that one would almost be induced to think that the inhabitants
lived upon them[43].
The habit of drinking proceeds frequently from misfortunes in life. The
miserable fly to it for relief. It affords them indeed a temporary ease.
But, alas! this solace is short-lived; and when it is over, the spirits
sink as much below their usual tone as they had before been raised above
it. Hence a repetition of the dose becomes necessary, and every fresh
dose makes way for another, till the unhappy wretch becomes a slave to
the bottle, and at length falls a sacrifice to what at first perhaps was
taken only as a medicine. No man is so dejected as the drunkard when his
debauch is gone off. Hence it is, that those who have the greatest flow
of spirits while the glass circulates freely, are of all others the most
melancholy when sober, and often put an end to their own miserable
existence in a fit of spleen or ill humour.
Drunkenness not only proves destructive to health, but likewise to the
faculties of the mind. It is strange that creatures who value themselves
on account of a superior degree of reason to that of brutes, should take
pleasure in sinking so far below them. Were such as voluntarily deprive
themselves of the use of reason, to continue ever after in that
condition, it would seem but a just punishment. Though this be not the
consequence of one act of intoxication, it seldom fails to succeed a
course of it. By a habit of drinking, the greatest genius is often
reduced to a mere idiot[44].
Intoxication is peculiarly hurtful to young persons. It heats their
blood, impairs their strength, and obstructs their growth; besides, the
frequent use of strong liquors in the early part of life destroys any
benefit that might arise from them afterwards. Those who make a practice
of drinking generous liquors when young, cannot expert to reap any
benefit from them as a cordial in the decline of life.
Drunkenness is not only in itself a most abominable vice, but is an
inducement to many others. There is hardly any crime so horrid that the
drunkard will not perpetrate for the love of liquor. We have known
mothers sell their children’s clothes, the food that they should have
eat, and afterwards even the infants themselves, in order to purchase
the accursed draught.
CHAP. VIII.
OF CLEANLINESS.
The want of cleanliness is a fault which admits of no excuse. Where
water can be had for nothing, it is surely in the power of every person
to be clean. The continual discharge from our bodies by perspiration,
renders frequent change of apparel necessary. Changing apparel greatly
promotes the secretion from the skin, so necessary for health. When that
matter which ought to be carried off by perspiration, is either retained
in the body, or resorbed from dirty clothes, it must occasion diseases.
Diseases of the skin are chiefly owing to want of cleanliness[45]. They
may indeed be caught by infection, or brought on by poor living,
unwholesome food, &c. but they will seldom continue long where
cleanliness prevails. To the same cause must we impute the various kinds
of vermin which infest the human body, houses, &c. These may always be
banished by cleanliness alone, and wherever they abound, we have reason
to believe it is neglected.
One common cause of putrid and malignant fevers, is the want of
cleanliness. These fevers commonly begin among the inhabitants of close
dirty houses, who breathe unwholesome air, take little exercise, and
wear dirty clothes. There the infection is generally hatched, which
often spreads far and wide, to the destruction of many. Hence
cleanliness may be considered as an object of public attention. It is
not sufficient that I be clean myself, while the want of it in my
neighbour affects my health as well as his own. If dirty people cannot
be removed as a common nuisance, they ought at least to be avoided as
infectious. All who regard their health should keep at a distance even
from their habitations.
In places where great numbers of people are collected, cleanliness
becomes of the utmost importance. It is well known that infectious
diseases are communicated by tainted air. Every thing, therefore, which
tends to pollute the air, or spread the infection, ought with the utmost
care to be guarded against. For this reason, in great towns, no filth,
of any kind, should be permitted to lie upon the streets. Nothing is
more apt to convey infection than the excrements of the diseased.
In many great towns the streets are little better than dunghills, being
frequently covered with ashes, dung, and nastiness of every kind. Even
slaughterhouses, or killing shambles, are often to be seen in the very
centre of great towns. The putrid blood, excrements, &c. with which
these places are generally covered, cannot fail to taint the air, and
render it unwholesome. How easily might this be prevented by active
magistrates, who have it always in their power to make proper laws
relative to things of this nature, and to enforce the observance of
them!
We are sorry to say, that the importance of general cleanliness does not
seem to be sufficiently understood by the magistrates of most great
towns in Britain; though health, pleasure, and delicacy, all conspire to
recommend an attention to it. Nothing can be more agreeable to the
senses, more to the honour of the inhabitants, or more conducive to
their health, than a clean town; nor can any thing impress a stranger
with a more disrespectful idea of any people than its opposite. Whatever
pretensions people may make to learning, politeness, or civilization, we
will venture to affirm, that while they neglect cleanliness, they are in
a state of barbarity[46].
The peasants in most countries seem to hold cleanliness in a sort of
contempt. Were it not for the open situation of their houses, they would
often feel the bad effects of this disposition. One seldom sees a
farm-house without a dunghill before the door, and frequently the cattle
and their masters lodge under the same roof. Peasants are likewise
extremely careless with respect to change of apparel, keeping their
houses, &c. clean. This is merely the effect of indolence and a dirty
disposition. Habit may indeed render it less disagreeable to them, but
no habit can ever make it salutary to wear dirty clothes or breathe
unwholesome air.
As many articles of diet come through the hands of peasants, every
method should be taken to encourage and promote habits of cleanliness
among them. This, for example, might be done by giving a small premium
to the person who brings the cleanest and best article of any kind to
market, as butter, cheese, &c. and by punishing severely those who bring
it dirty. The same method should be taken with butchers, bakers,
brewers, and all who are employed in preparing the necessaries of life.
In camps the strictest regard should be paid to cleanliness. By
negligence in this matter, infectious diseases are often spread amongst
a whole army; and frequently more die of these than by the sword. The
Jews during their encampments in the wilderness, received particular
instructions with respect to cleanliness[47]. The rules enjoined them
ought to be observed by all in the like situation. Indeed the whole
system of laws delivered to that people has a manifest tendency to
promote cleanliness. Whoever considers the nature of their climate, the
diseases to which they were liable, and their dirty disposition, will
see the propriety of such laws.
It is remarkable that, in most eastern countries, cleanliness makes a
great part of their religion. The Mahometan, as well as the Jewish
religion, enjoins various bathings, washings, and purifications. No
doubt these might be designed to represent inward purity; but they were
at the same time calculated for the preservation of health. However
whimsical these washings may appear to some, few things would tend more
to prevent diseases than a proper attention to many of them. Were every
person, for example, after visiting the sick, handling a dead body, or
touching any thing that might convey infection, to wash before he went
into company, or sat down to meat, he would run less hazard either of
catching the infection himself, or of communicating it to others.
Frequent washing not only removes the filth and sordes which adhere to
the skin, but likewise promotes the perspiration, braces the body, and
enlivens the spirits. How refreshed, how cheerful, and agreeable does
one feel on being shaved, washed, and shifted; especially when these
offices have been neglected longer than usual!
The eastern custom of washing the feet, though less necessary in this
country, is nevertheless a very agreeable piece of cleanliness, and
contributes greatly to the preservation of health. The sweat and dirt
with which these parts are frequently covered, cannot fail to obstruct
the perspiration. This piece of cleanliness would often prevent colds
and fevers. Were people careful to bathe their feet and legs in lukewarm
water at night, after being exposed to cold or wet through the day, they
would seldom experience the ill effects which often proceed from these
causes.
A proper attention to cleanliness is no where more necessary than on
shipboard. If epidemical distempers break out there, no one can be safe.
The best way to prevent them, is to take care that the whole company be
cleanly in their clothes, bedding, &c. When infectious diseases do break
out, cleanliness is the most likely means to prevent their spreading; it
is likewise necessary to prevent their returning afterwards, or being
conveyed to other places. For this purpose, the clothes, bedding, &c. of
the sick ought to be carefully washed, and fumigated with brimstone.
Infection will lodge a long time in dirty clothes, and afterwards break
out in the most terrible manner.
In places where great numbers of sick people are collected together,
cleanliness ought to be most religiously observed. The very smell in
such places is often sufficient to make one sick. It is easy to imagine
what effect that is likely to have upon the diseased. In an hospital or
infirmary, where cleanliness is neglected, a person in perfect health
has a greater chance to become sick, than a sick person has to get well.
Few things are more unaccountable than that neglect, or rather dread of
cleanliness, which appears among those who have the care of the sick;
they think it almost criminal to suffer any thing that is clean to come
near a person in a fever, for example, and would rather allow him to
wallow in all manner of filth, than change the least bit of his linen.
If cleanliness be necessary for persons in health, it is certainly more
so for the sick. Many diseases may be cured by cleanliness alone; most
of them might be mitigated by it; and, where it is neglected, the
slightest disorders are often changed into the most malignant. The same
mistaken care which prompted people to prevent the least admission of
fresh air to the sick, seems to have induced them to keep them dirty.
Both these destructive prejudices will, we hope, be soon entirely
eradicated.
Cleanliness is certainly agreeable to our nature. We cannot help
approving it in others, even though we should not practice it ourselves.
It sooner attracts our regard than even finery itself, and often gains
esteem where that fails. It is an ornament to the highest as well as the
lowest station, and cannot be dispensed with in either. Few virtues are
of more importance to society than general cleanliness. It ought to be
carefully cultivated every where; but in populous cities it should be
almost revered[48].
CHAP. IX.
OF INFECTION.
Many diseases are infectious. Every person ought therefore, as far as he
can, to avoid all communication with the diseased. The common practice
of visiting the sick, though often well meant, has many ill
consequences. Far be it from us to discourage any act of charity or
benevolence, especially towards those in distress; but we cannot help
blaming such as endanger their own or their neighbours lives by a
mistaken friendship or an impertinent curiosity.
The houses of the sick, especially in the country, are generally crowded
from morning till night with idle visitors. It is customary, in such
places, for servants and young people to wait upon the sick by turns,
and even to sit up with them all night. It would be a miracle indeed
should such always escape. Experience teaches us the danger of this
conduct. People often catch fevers in this way, and communicate them to
others, till at length they become epidemic.
It would be thought highly improper, for one who had not had the
small-pox, to wait upon a patient in that disease; yet many other fevers
are almost as infectious as the small-pox, and not less fatal. Some
imagine that fevers prove more fatal in villages than in great towns,
for want of proper medical assistance. This may sometimes be the case;
but we are inclined to think it oftener proceeds from the cause above
mentioned.
Were a plan to be laid down for communicating infection, it could not be
done more effectually than by the common method of visiting the sick.
Such visitors not only endanger themselves and their connections, but
likewise hurt the sick. By crowding the house, they render the air
unwholesome, and by their private whispers and dismal countenances
disturb the imagination of the patient, and depress his spirits. Persons
who are ill, especially in fevers, ought to be kept as quiet as
possible. The sight of strange faces, and every thing that disturbs the
mind, hurts them.
The common practice in country-places of inviting great numbers of
people to funerals, and crowding them into the same apartment where the
corpse lies, is another way of spreading infection. The infection does
not always die with the patient. Every thing that comes into contact
with his body while alive, receives the contagion, and some of them, as
clothes, blankets, &c. will retain it for a long time. Persons who die
of infectious disorders ought not to lie long unburied; and people
should keep as much as possible at a distance from them.
It would tend greatly to prevent the spreading of infectious diseases,
if those in health were kept at a proper distance from the sick. The
Jewish Legislator, among many other wise institutions for preserving
health, has been peculiarly attentive to the means of preventing
infection, or _defilement_ as it is called, either from a diseased
person or a dead body. In many cases the diseased were to be separated
from those in health; and it was deemed a crime even to approach their
habitations. If a person only touched a diseased or dead body, he was
appointed to wash himself in water, and to keep for some time at a
distance from society.
Infectious diseases are often communicated by clothes. It is extremely
dangerous to wear apparel which has been worn by the deceased, unless it
has been well washed and fumigated, as infection may lodge a long time
in it, and afterwards produce very tragical effects. This shews the
danger of buying at random the clothes which have been worn by other
people.
Infectious disorders are frequently imported. Commerce, together with
the riches of foreign climes, brings us also their diseases. These do
often more than counterbalance all the advantages of that trade by means
of which they are introduced. It is to be regretted, that so little care
is commonly bestowed, either to prevent the introduction or spreading of
infectious maladies. Some attention indeed is generally paid to the
plague; but other diseases pass unregarded[49].
Infection is often spread through cities, by jails, hospitals, &c. These
are frequently situated in the very middle of populous towns; and when
infectious diseases break out in them, it is impossible for the
inhabitants to escape. Did magistrates pay any regard to the health of
the people, this evil might be easily remedied.
Many are the causes which tend to diffuse infection through populous
cities. The whole atmosphere of a large town is one contaminated mass,
abounding with various kinds of infection, and must be pernicious to
health. The best advice that we can give to such as are obliged to live
in large cities is, to chuse an open situation; to avoid narrow, dirty,
crowded streets; to keep their own house and offices clean; and to be as
much abroad in the open air as their time will permit.
It would tend greatly to prevent the spreading of infectious diseases,
were proper nurses every where employed to take care of the sick. This
might often save a family, or even a whole town, from being infected by
one person. We do not mean that people should abandon their friends or
relations in distress, but only to put them on their guard against being
too much in company with those who are afflicted with diseases of an
infectious nature.
Such as wait upon the sick in infectious diseases run very great hazard.
They should stuff their noses with tobacco, or some other strong
smelling herb, as rue, tansy, or the like. They ought likewise to keep
the patient very clean, to sprinkle the room where he lies with vinegar,
or other strong acids, frequently to admit a stream of fresh air into
it, and to avoid the smell of his breath as much as they can. They ought
never to go into company without having changed their clothes and washed
their hands; otherwise, if the disease be infectious, they will in all
probability carry the contagion along with them[50].
However trifling it may appear to inconsiderate persons, we will venture
to affirm, that a due attention to those things which tend to diffuse
infection would be of great importance in preventing diseases. As most
diseases are in some degree infectious, no one should continue long with
the sick, except the necessary attendants. I mean not, however, by this
caution, to deter those whose duty or office leads them to wait upon the
sick, from such a laudable and necessary employment.
Many things are in the power of the magistrate which would tend to
prevent the spreading of infection; as the promoting of public
cleanliness; removing jails, hospitals, burying grounds, and other
places where infection may be generated, at a proper distance from great
towns[51]; widening the streets; pulling down useless walls, and taking
all methods to promote a free circulation of air through every part of
the town, &c. Public hospitals, or proper places of reception for the
sick, provided they were kept clean, well ventilated, and placed in an
open situation, would likewise tend to prevent the spreading of
infection. Such places of reception would prevent the poor, when sick,
from being visited by their idle or officious neighbours. They would
likewise render it unnecessary for sick servants to be kept in their
master’s houses. Masters had better pay for having their servants taken
care of in an hospital, than run the hazard of having an infectious
disease diffused among a numerous family. Sick servants and poor people,
when placed in hospitals, are not only less apt to diffuse infection
among their neighbours, but have likewise the advantage of being well
attended.
We are not, however, to learn that hospitals, instead of preventing
infection, may become the means of diffusing it. When they are placed in
the middle of great towns; when numbers of patients are crowded together
in small apartments; when there is a constant communication kept up
between the citizens and the patients; and when cleanliness and
ventilation are neglected, they become nests for hatching diseases, and
every one who goes into them not only runs a risk of receiving infection
himself, but likewise of communicating it to others. This however is not
the fault of the hospitals, but of those who have the management of
them. It were to be wished, that they were both more numerous, and upon
a more respectable footing, as that would induce people to go into them
with less reluctance. This is the more to be desired, because most of
the putrid fevers and other infectious disorders break out among the
poor, and are by them communicated to the better sort. Were proper
attention paid to the first appearances of such disorders, and the
patients early conveyed to an hospital, we should seldom see a putrid
fever, which is almost as infectious as the plague, become epidemic.
CHAP. X.
OF THE PASSIONS.
The passions have great influence both in the cause and cure of
diseases. How the mind affects the body, will in all probability ever
remain a secret. It is sufficient for us to know, that there is
established a reciprocal influence between the mental and corporeal
parts; and that whatever injures the one disorders the other.
_Of Anger._
The passion of _anger_ ruffles the mind, distorts the countenance,
hurries on the circulation of the blood, and disorders the whole vital
and animal functions. It often occasions fevers, and other acute
diseases; and sometimes even sudden death. This passion is peculiarly
hurtful to the delicate, and those of weak nerves. I have known such
persons frequently lose their lives by a violent fit of anger, and would
advise them to guard against the excess of this passion with the utmost
care.
It is not indeed always in our power to prevent being angry; but we may
surely avoid harbouring resentment in our breast. Resentment preys upon
the mind, and occasions the most obstinate chronical disorders, which
gradually waste the constitution. Nothing shews true greatness of mind
more than to forgive injuries; it promotes the peace of society, and
greatly conduces to our own ease, health, and felicity.
Such as value health should avoid violent gusts of anger, as they would
the most deadly poison. Neither ought they to indulge resentment, but to
endeavour at all times to keep their minds calm and serene. Nothing
tends so much to the health of the body as a constant tranquillity of
mind.
_Of Fear._
The influence of _fear_, both in occasioning and aggravating diseases,
is very great. No man ought to be blamed for a decent concern about
life; but too great a desire to preserve it is often the cause of losing
it. Fear and anxiety, by depressing the spirits, not only dispose us to
diseases, but often render those diseases fatal which an undaunted mind
would overcome.
Sudden fear has generally violent effects. Epileptic fits, and other
convulsive disorders, are often occasioned by it. Hence the danger of
that practice, so common among young people, of frightening one another.
Many have lost their lives, and others have been rendered miserable, by
frolics of this kind. It is dangerous to tamper with the human passions.
The mind may easily be thrown into such disorder as never again to act
with regularity.
But the gradual effects of fear prove most hurtful. The constant dread
of some future evil, by dwelling upon the mind, often occasions the very
evil itself. Hence it comes to pass, that so many die of those very
diseases of which they long had a dread, or which had been impressed on
their minds by some accident, or foolish prediction. This, for example,
is often the case with women in child-bed. Many of those who die in that
situation are impressed with the notion of their death a long time
before it happens; and there is reason to believe that this impression
is often the cause of it.
The methods taken to impress the minds of women with the apprehensions
of the great _pain_ and _peril_ of child-birth, are very hurtful. Few
women die in labour, though many lose their lives after it; which may be
thus accounted for. A woman after delivery, finding herself weak and
exhausted, immediately apprehends she is in danger; but this fear seldom
fails to obstruct the necessary evacuations, upon which her recovery
depends. Thus the sex often fall a sacrifice to their own imaginations,
when there would be no danger, did they apprehend none.
It seldom happens that two or three women in a great town die in
child-bed, but their death is followed by many others. Every woman of
their acquaintance who is with child dreads the same fate, and the
disease becomes epidemical by the mere force of imagination. This should
induce pregnant women to despise fear, and by all means to avoid those
tattling gossips who are continually buzzing in their ears the
misfortunes of others. Every thing that may in the least alarm a
pregnant or child-bed woman, ought with the greatest care to be guarded
against.
Many women have lost their lives in child-bed by the old superstitious
custom, still kept up in most parts of Britain, of tolling the parish
bell for every person who dies. People who think themselves in danger
are very inquisitive; and if they come to know that the bell tolls for
one who died in the same situation with themselves, what must be the
consequence? At any rate they are apt to suppose that this is the case,
and it will often be found a very difficult matter to persuade them of
the contrary.
But this custom is not pernicious to child-bed women only. It is hurtful
in many other cases. When low fevers, in which it is difficult to
support the patient’s spirits, prevail, what must be the effect of a
funeral peal sounding five or six times a day in his ears? No doubt his
imagination will suggest that others died of the same disease under
which he labours. This apprehension will have a greater tendency to
depress his spirits, than all the cordials of which medicine can boast
will have to raise them.
If this useless piece of ceremony cannot be abolished, we ought to keep
the sick as much from hearing it as possible, and from every other thing
that may tend to alarm them. So far however is this from being generally
attended to, that many make it their business to visit the sick, on
purpose to whisper dismal stories in their ears. Such may pass for
sympathizing friends, but they ought rather to be considered as enemies.
All who wish well to the sick ought to keep such persons at the greatest
distance from them.
A custom has long prevailed among physicians, of prognosticating, as
they call it, the patient’s fate, or foretelling the issue of the
disease. Vanity no doubt introduced this practice, and still supports
it, in spite of common sense and the safety of mankind. I have known a
physician barbarous enough to boast, that he pronounced more _sentences_
than all his Majesty’s judges. Would to God that such sentences were not
often equally fatal! It may indeed be alleged, that the doctor does not
declare his opinion before the patient. So much the worse. A sensible
patient had better hear what the doctor says, than learn it from the
disconsolate looks, the watery eyes, and the broken whispers of those
about him. It seldom happens, when the doctor gives an unfavourable
opinion, that it can be concealed from the patient. The very
embarrassment which the friends and attendants shew in disguising what
he has said, is generally sufficient to discover the truth.
Kind Heaven has, for the wisest ends, concealed from mortals their fate;
and we do not see what right any man has to announce the death of
another, especially if such a declaration has a chance to kill him.
Mankind are indeed very fond of prying into future events, and seldom
fail to solicit the physician for his opinion. A doubtful answer,
however, or one that may tend rather to encourage the hopes of the sick,
is surely the most safe. This conduct could neither hurt the patient nor
the physician. Nothing tends more to destroy the credit of physic than
those bold prognosticators, who, by the bye, are generally the most
ignorant of the faculty. The mistakes which daily happen in this way are
so many standing proofs of human vanity, and the weakness of science.
We readily admit, that there are cases where the physician ought to give
intimation of the patient’s danger to some of his near connexions;
though even this ought always to be done with the greatest caution: but
it never can be necessary in any case that the whole town and country
should know, immediately after the doctor has made his first visit,
_that he has no hopes of his patient’s recovery_. Persons whose
impertinent curiosity leads them to question the physician, with regard
to the fate of his patient, certainly deserve no other than an evasive
answer.
The vanity of foretelling the fate of the sick is not peculiar to the
faculty. Others follow their example, and those who think themselves
wiser than their neighbours often do much hurt in this way. Humanity
surely calls upon every one to comfort the sick, and not to add to their
affliction by alarming their fears. A friend, or even a physician, may
often do more good by a mild and sympathizing behaviour than by
medicine, and should never neglect to administer that greatest of all
cordials, HOPE.
_Of Grief._
Grief is the most destructive of all the passions. Its effects are
permanent, and when it sinks deep into the mind, it generally proves
fatal. Anger and fear, being of a more violent nature, seldom last long;
but grief often changes into a fixed melancholy, which preys upon the
spirits, and wastes the constitution. This passion ought not to be
indulged. It may generally be conquered at the beginning; but when it
has gained strength, all attempts to remove it are vain.
No person can prevent misfortunes in life; but it shews true greatness
of mind to bear them with serenity. Many persons make a merit of
indulging grief, and when misfortunes happen, they obstinately refuse
all consolation, till the mind, overwhelmed with melancholy, sinks under
the load. Such conduct is not only destructive to health, but
inconsistent with reason, religion, and common sense.
Change of ideas is as necessary for health as change of posture. When
the mind dwells long upon one subject, especially of a disagreeable
nature, it hurts the whole functions of the body. Hence grief indulged
spoils the digestion and destroys the appetite; by which means the
spirits are depressed, the nerves relaxed, the bowels inflated with
wind, and the humours, for want of fresh supplies of chyle, vitiated.
Thus many an excellent constitution has been ruined by a family
misfortune, or any thing that occasions excessive grief.
It is utterly impossible, that any person of a dejected mind should
enjoy health. Life may indeed be dragged out for a few years; but
whoever would live to a good old age, must be good-humoured and
cheerful. This indeed is not altogether in our own power; yet our temper
of mind, as well as our actions, depend greatly upon ourselves. We can
either associate with cheerful or melancholy companions, mingle in the
amusements and offices of life, or sit still and brood over our
calamities as we choose. These, and many such things, are certainly in
our power, and from these the mind generally takes its cast.
The variety of scenes which present themselves to the senses, were
certainly designed to prevent our attention from being too long fixed
upon any one object. Nature abounds with variety, and the mind, unless
fixed down by habit, delights in contemplating new objects. This at once
points out the method of relieving the mind in distress. Turn the
attention frequently to new objects. Examine them for some time. When
the mind begins to recoil, shift the scene. By this means a constant
succession of new ideas may be kept up, till the disagreeable ones
entirely disappear. Thus travelling, the study of any art or science,
reading or writing on such subjects as deeply engage the attention, will
sooner expel grief than the most sprightly amusements.
It has already been observed, that the body cannot be healthy unless it
be exercised; neither can the mind. Indolence nourishes grief. When the
mind has nothing else to think of but calamities, no wonder that it
dwells there. Few people who pursue business with attention are hurt by
grief. Instead therefore of abstracting ourselves from the world or
business, when misfortunes happen, we ought to engage in it with more
than usual attention, to discharge with double diligence the functions
of our station, and to mix with friends of a cheerful and social temper.
Innocent amusements are by no means to be neglected. These, by leading
the mind insensibly to the contemplation of agreeable objects, help to
dispel the gloom which misfortunes cast over it. They make time seem
less tedious, and have many other happy effects.
Some persons, when overwhelmed with grief, betake themselves to
drinking. This is making the cure worse than the disease. It seldom
fails to end in the ruin of fortune, character, and constitution.
_Of Love._
Love is perhaps the strongest of all the passions; at least, when it
becomes violent, it is less subject to the control either of the
understanding or will, than any of the rest. Fear, anger, and several
other passions, are necessary for the preservation of the individual,
but love is necessary for the continuation of the species itself; it was
therefore proper that this passion should be deeply rooted in the human
breast.
Though love be a strong passion, it is seldom so rapid in its progress
as several of the others. Few persons fall desperately in love all at
once. We would therefore advise every one, before he tampers with this
passion, to consider well the probability of his being able to obtain
the object of his love. When that is not likely, he should avoid every
occasion of increasing it. He ought immediately to fly the company of
the beloved object; to apply his mind attentively to business or study;
to take every kind of amusement; and above all, to endeavour, if
possible, to find another object which may engage his affections, and
which it may be in his power to obtain.
There is no passion with which people are so ready to tamper as love,
although none is more dangerous. Some men make love for amusement,
others from mere vanity, or on purpose to shew their consequence with
the fair. This is perhaps the greatest piece of cruelty which any one
can be guilty of. What we eagerly wish for we easily credit. Hence the
too credulous fair are often betrayed into a situation which is truly
deplorable, before they are able to discover that the pretended lover
was only in jest. But there is no jesting with this passion. When love
is got to a certain height, it admits of no other cure but the
possession of its object, which in this case ought always if possible to
be obtained[52].
_Of Religious Melancholy._
Many persons of a religious turn of mind behave as if they thought it a
crime to be cheerful. They imagine the whole of religion consists in
certain mortifications, or denying themselves the smallest indulgence,
even of the most innocent amusements. A perpetual gloom hangs over their
countenances, while the deepest melancholy preys upon their minds. At
length the fairest prospects vanish, every thing puts on a dismal
appearance, and those very objects which ought to give delight afford
nothing but disgust. Life itself becomes a burden, and the unhappy
wretch, persuaded that no evil can equal what he feels, often puts an
end to his own miserable existence.
It is great pity that ever religion should be so far perverted, as to
become the cause of those very evils which it was designed to cure.
Nothing can be better calculated than _True Religion_, to raise and
support the mind of its votaries under every affliction that can befal
them. It teaches them that even the sufferings of this life are
preparatory to the happiness of the next; and that all who persist in a
course of virtue shall at length arrive at complete felicity.
Persons whose business it is to recommend religion to others, should
beware of dwelling too much on gloomy subjects. That peace and
tranquillity of mind, which true religion is calculated to inspire, is a
more powerful argument in its favour than all the terrors that can be
uttered. Terror may indeed deter men from outward acts of wickedness,
but can never inspire them with that love of God, and real goodness of
heart, in which alone true religion consists.
To conclude; the best way to counteract the violence of any passion, is
to keep the mind closely engaged in some useful pursuit.
CHAP. XI.
OF THE COMMON EVACUATIONS.
The principal evacuations from the human body are those by _stool_,
_urine_, and _insensible perspiration_. None of these can be long
obstructed without impairing the health. When that which ought to be
thrown out of the body is too long retained, it not only occasions a
_plethora_, or too great fulness of the vessels, but acquires qualities
which are hurtful to the health, as acrimony, putrescence, &c.
_Of the Evacuation by Stool._
Few things conduce more to health than keeping the body regular. When
the _fæces_ lie too long in the bowels, they vitiate the humours; and
when they are too soon discharged, the body is not sufficiently
nourished. A medium is therefore to be desired, which can only be
obtained by regularity in diet, sleep, and exercise. Whenever the body
is not regular, there is reason to suspect a fault in one or other of
these.
Persons who eat and drink at irregular hours, and who eat various kinds
of food, and drink of several different liquors at every meal, have no
reason to expect either that their digestion will be good, or their
discharges regular. Irregularity in eating and drinking disturbs every
part of the animal œconomy, and never fails to occasion diseases. Either
too much or too little food will have this effect. The former indeed
generally occasions looseness, and the latter costiveness; but both have
a tendency to hurt the health.
It would be difficult to ascertain the exact number of stools which may
be consistent with health, as these differ in the different periods of
life, in different constitutions, and even in the same constitution
under a different regimen of diet, exercise, &c. It is however generally
allowed, that one stool a-day is sufficient for an adult, and that less
is hurtful. But this, like most general rules, admits of many
exceptions. I have known persons in perfect health who did not go to
stool above once a-week. Such a degree of costiveness however is not
safe; though the person who labours under it may for some time enjoy
tolerable health, yet at length it may occasion diseases.
One method of procuring a stool every day is to rise betimes, and go
abroad in the open air. Not only the posture in bed is unfavourable to
regular stools, but also the warmth. This, by promoting the
perspiration, lessens all the other discharges.
The method recommended for this purpose by Mr. Locke is likewise very
proper, _viz. to solicit nature, by going regularly to stool every
morning whether one has a call or not_. Habits of this kind may be
acquired, which will in time become natural.
Persons who have frequent recourse to medicines for preventing
costiveness seldom fail to ruin their constitution. Purging medicines
frequently repeated weaken the bowels, hurt the digestion, and every
dose makes way for another, till at length they become as necessary as
daily bread. Those who are troubled with costiveness ought rather, if
possible, to remove it by diet than drugs. They should likewise go
thinly clothed, and avoid every thing of an astringent or of an heating
nature. The diet and other regimen necessary in this case will be found
under the article _Costiveness_, where this state of the bowels is
treated as a disease.
Such persons as are troubled with a habitual looseness ought likewise to
suit their diet to the nature of their complaint. They should use food
which braces and strengthens the bowels, and which is rather of an
astringent quality, as wheat-bread made of the finest flour, cheese,
eggs, rice boiled in milk, &c. Their drink should be red port, claret,
brandy and water in which toasted bread has been boiled, and such like.
As a habitual looseness is often owing to an obstructed perspiration,
persons affected with it ought to keep their feet warm, to wear flannel
next their skin, and take every other method to promote the
perspiration. Further directions with regard to the treatment of this
complaint will be found under the article _Looseness_.
_Of Urine._
So many things tend to change both the quantity and appearances of the
urine, that it is very difficult to lay down any determined rules for
judging of either[53]. Dr. Cheyne says, the urine ought to be equal to
three-fourths of the liquid part of our aliment. But suppose any one
were to take the trouble of measuring both, he would find that every
thing which altered the degree of perspiration, would alter this
proportion, and likewise that different kinds of aliment would afford
very different quantities of urine. Though for these, and other reasons,
no rule can be given for judging of the precise quantity of urine which
ought to be discharged, yet a person of common sense will seldom be at a
loss to know when it is in either extreme.
As a free discharge of urine not only prevents but actually cures many
diseases, it ought by all means to be promoted; and every thing that may
obstruct it should be carefully avoided. Both the secretion and
discharge of urine are lessened by a sedentary life, sleeping on beds
that are too soft and warm, food of a dry and heating quality, liquors
which are astringent and heating, as red port, claret, and such like.
Those who have reason to suspect that their urine is in too small
quantity, or who have any symptoms of the gravel, ought not only to
avoid these things, but whatever else they find has a tendency to lessen
the quantity of their urine.
When the urine is too long retained, it is not only resorbed, or taken
up again into the mass of fluids, but by stagnating in the bladder it
becomes thicker, the more watery parts flying off first, and the more
gross and earthy remaining behind. By the constant tendency which these
have to concrete, the formation of stones and gravel in the bladder is
promoted. Hence it comes to pass, that indolent and sedentary people are
much more liable to these diseases, than persons of a more active life.
Many persons have lost their lives, and others have brought on very
tedious, and even incurable disorders, by retaining their urine too
long, from a false delicacy. When the bladder has been over-distended,
it often loses its power of action altogether, or becomes paralytic, by
which means it is rendered unable either to retain the urine, or expel
it properly. The calls of Nature ought never to be postponed. Delicacy
is doubtless a virtue, but that can never be reckoned true delicacy,
which induces any one to risk his health or hazard his life.
But the urine may be in too great as well as too small a quantity. This
may be occasioned by drinking large quantities of weak watery liquors,
by the excessive use of alkaline salts, or any thing that stimulates the
kidnies, dilutes the blood, &c. This disorder very soon weakens the
body, and induces a consumption. It is difficult to cure, but may be
mitigated by strengthening diet and astringent medicines, such as are
recommended under the article Diabetes, or excessive discharge of urine.
_Of the Perspiration._
Insensible perspiration is generally reckoned the greatest of all the
discharges from the human body. It is of so great importance to health,
that few diseases attack us while it goes properly on; but when it is
obstructed, the whole frame is soon disordered. This discharge however,
being less perceptible than any of the rest, is consequently less
attended to. Hence it is, that acute fevers, rheumatisms, agues, &c.
often proceed from obstructed perspiration before we are aware of its
having taken place.
On examining patients, we find most of them impute their diseases either
to violent colds which they had caught, or to slight ones which had been
neglected. For this reason, instead of a critical inquiry into the
nature of the perspiration, its difference in different seasons,
climates, constitutions, &c. we shall endeavour to point out the causes
which most commonly obstruct it, and to shew how far they may be either
avoided, or have their influence counteracted by timely care. The want
of a due attention to these, costs Britain annually some thousands of
useful lives.
_Changes in the Atmosphere._
One of the most common causes of obstructed perspiration, or catching
cold, in this country, is the changeableness of the weather, or state of
the atmosphere. There is no place where such changes happen more
frequently than in Great Britain. With us the degrees of heat and cold
are not only very different in the different seasons of the year, but
often change almost from one extreme to another in a few days, and
sometimes even in the course of one day. That such changes must affect
the state of the perspiration is obvious to every one[54].
The best method of fortifying the body against the changes of the
weather, is to be abroad every day. Those who keep most within doors are
most liable to catch cold. Such persons generally render themselves so
delicate as to feel even the slightest changes in the atmosphere, and by
their pains, coughs, and oppressions of the breast, &c. they become a
kind of living barometers.
_Wet Clothes._
Wet clothes not only by their coldness obstruct the perspiration, but
their moisture, by being absorbed, or taken up into the body, greatly
increases the danger. The most robust constitution is not proof against
the danger arising from wet clothes; they daily occasion fevers,
rheumatisms, and other fatal disorders, even in the young and healthy.
It is impossible for people who go frequently abroad to avoid sometimes
being wet. But the danger might generally be lessened, if not wholly
prevented, by changing their clothes soon; when this cannot be done,
they should keep in motion till they be dry. So far are many from taking
this precaution, that they often sit or lie down in the fields with
their clothes wet, and frequently sleep even whole nights in this
condition. The frequent instances which we have of the fatal effects of
this conduct, ought certainly to deter others from being guilty of it.
_Wet Feet._
Even wet feet often occasion fatal diseases. The colic, inflammations of
the breast and of the bowels, the iliac passion, _cholera morbus_, &c.
are often occasioned by wet feet. Habit will, no doubt, render this less
dangerous; but it ought, as far as possible, to be avoided. The
delicate, and those who are not accustomed to have their clothes or feet
wet should be peculiarly careful in this respect.
_Night Air._
The perspiration is often obstructed by night air; even in summer, this
ought to be avoided. The dews which fall plentifully after the hottest
day, make the night more dangerous than when the weather is cool. Hence,
in warm countries, the evening dews are more hurtful than where the
climate is more temperate.
It is very agreeable after a warm day to be abroad in the cool evening;
but this is a pleasure to be avoided by all who value their health. The
effects of evening dews are gradual indeed, and almost imperceptible;
but they are not the less to be dreaded: we would therefore advise
travellers, labourers, and all who are much heated by day, carefully to
avoid them. When the perspiration has been great, these become dangerous
in proportion. By not attending to this, in flat marshy countries, where
the exhalations and dews are copious, labourers are often seized with
intermitting fevers, quinseys, and other dangerous diseases.
_Damp Beds._
Beds become damp, either from their not being used, standing in damp
houses, or in rooms without fire. Nothing is more to be dreaded by
travellers than damp beds, which are very common in all places where
fuel is scarce. When a traveller, cold and wet, arrives at an inn, he
may by means of a good fire, warm diluting liquor, and a dry bed, have
the perspiration restored; but if he be put into a cold room, and laid
on a damp bed, it will be more obstructed, and the worst consequences
will ensue. Travellers should avoid inns which are noted for damp beds,
as they would a house infected with the plague, as no man, however
robust, is proof against the danger arising from them.
But inns are not the only places where damp beds are to be met with.
Beds kept in private families for the reception of strangers are often
equally dangerous. All kinds of linen and bedding, when not frequently
used, become damp. How then is it possible that beds, which are not
slept in above two or three times a year, should be safe? Nothing is
more common than to hear people complain of having caught cold by
changing their bed. The reason is obvious: were they careful never to
sleep in a bed but what was frequently used, they would seldom find any
ill consequences from a change.
Nothing is more to be dreaded by a delicate person when on a visit, than
being laid in a bed which is kept on purpose for strangers. That
ill-judged piece of complaisance becomes a real injury. All the bad
consequences from this quarter might easily be prevented in private
families, by causing their servants to sleep in the spare beds, and
resign them to strangers when they come. In inns where the beds are used
almost every night, nothing else is necessary than to keep the rooms
well seasoned by frequent fires, and the linen dry.
That baneful custom said to be practised in many inns, of damping
sheets, and pressing them in order to save washing, and afterwards
laying them on the beds, ought, when discovered; to be punished with the
utmost severity. It is really a species of murder, and will often prove
as fatal as poison or gunshot. Indeed no linen, especially if it has
been washed in winter, ought to be used till it has been exposed for
some time to the fire; nor is this operation less necessary for linen
washed in summer, provided it has lain by for any length of time. This
caution is the more needful, as gentlemen are often exceedingly
attentive to what they eat or drink at an inn, yet pay no regard to a
circumstance of much more importance[55].
_Damp Houses._
Damp houses frequently produce the like ill consequences; for this
reason those who build should be careful to chuse a dry situation. A
house which stands on a damp marshy soil or deep clay, will never be
thoroughly dry. All houses, unless where the ground is exceeding dry,
should have the first door a little raised. Servants and others, who are
obliged to live in cellars and sunk stories, seldom continue long in
health: masters ought surely to pay some regard to the health of their
servants, as well as to their own.
Nothing is more common than for people, merely to avoid some trifling
inconveniency, to hazard their lives, by inhabiting a house almost as
soon as the masons, plasterers, &c. have done with it: such houses are
not only dangerous from their dampness, but likewise from the smell of
lime, paint, &c. The asthmas, consumptions, and other diseases of the
lungs, so incident to people who work in these articles, are sufficient
proofs of their being unwholesome.
Rooms are often rendered damp by an unseasonable piece of cleanliness; I
mean the pernicious custom of washing them immediately before company is
put into them. Most people catch cold, if they sit but a very short time
in a room that has been lately washed; the delicate ought carefully to
avoid such a situation, and even the robust are not always proof against
its influence[56].
_Sudden Transitions from Heat to Cold._
The perspiration is commonly obstructed by SUDDEN TRANSITIONS from heat
to cold. Colds are seldom caught, unless when people have been too much
heated. Heat rarifies the blood, quickens the circulation, and increases
the perspiration; but when these are suddenly checked, the consequences
must be bad. It is indeed impossible for labourers not to be too hot
upon some occasions; but it is generally in their power to let
themselves cool gradually, to put on their clothes when they leave off
work, to make choice of a dry place to rest themselves in, and to avoid
sleeping in the open fields. These easy rules, if observed, would often
prevent fevers and other fatal disorders.
It is very common for people, when hot, to drink freely of cold water,
or small liquors. This conduct is extremely dangerous. Thirst indeed is
hard to bear, and the inclination to gratify that appetite frequently
gets the better of reason, and makes us do what our judgment
disapproves. Every peasant, however, knows, if his horse be permitted to
drink his bellyful of cold water after violent exercise, and be
immediately put into the stable, or suffered to remain at rest, that it
will kill him. This they take the utmost care to prevent. It were well
if they were equally attentive to their own safety.
Thirst may be quenched many ways without swallowing large quantities of
cold liquor. The fields afford variety of acid fruits and plants, the
very chewing of which would abate thirst. Water kept in the mouth for
some time, and spit out again, if frequently repeated, will have the
same effect. If a bit of bread be eaten along with a few mouthfuls of
water, it will both quench thirst more effectually, and make the danger
less. When a person is extremely hot, a mouthful of brandy, or other
spirits, if it can be obtained, ought to be preferred to any thing else.
But if any one has been so foolish, when hot, as to drink freely of cold
liquor, he ought to continue his exercise at least till what he drank be
thoroughly warmed upon his stomach.
It would be tedious to enumerate all the bad effects which flow from
drinking cold liquors when the body is hot. Sometimes this has
occasioned immediate death. Hoarseness, quinseys, and fevers of various
kinds, are its common consequences. Neither is it safe when warm to eat
freely of raw fruits, sallads, or the like. These indeed have not so
sudden an effect on the body as cold liquors, but they are
notwithstanding dangerous, and ought to be avoided.
Sitting in a warm room, and drinking hot liquors till the pores are
quite open, and immediately going into the cold air, is extremely
dangerous. Colds, coughs, and inflammations of the breast, are the usual
effects of this conduct: yet nothing is more common than for people,
after they have drank warm liquors for several hours, to walk or ride a
number of miles in the coldest night, or to ramble about in the
streets[57].
People are very apt, when a room is hot, to throw open a window, and to
sit near it. This is a most dangerous practice. Any person had better
sit without doors than in such a situation, as the current of air is
directed against one particular part of the body. Inflammatory fevers
and consumptions have often been occasioned by sitting or standing
thinly clothed near an open window. Nor is sleeping with open windows
less to be dreaded. That ought never to be done, even in the hottest
season, unless the window is at a distance. I have known mechanics
frequently contract fatal diseases, by working stript at an open window,
and would advise all of them to beware of such a practice.
Few things expose people more to catch cold than keeping their own
houses too warm; such persons may be said to live in a sort of
hot-houses; they can hardly stir abroad to visit a neighbour, but at the
hazard of their lives. Were there no other reason for keeping houses
moderately cool, that alone is sufficient: but no house that is too hot
can be wholesome; heat destroys the spring and elasticity of the air,
and renders it less fit for expanding the lungs, and the other purposes
of respiration. Hence it is, that consumptions and other diseases of the
lungs prove so fatal to people who work in forges, glasshouses, and the
like.
Some are even so fool-hardy, as to plunge themselves when hot in cold
water. Not only fevers, but madness itself, has frequently been the
effect of this conduct. Indeed it looks too like the action of a madman
to deserve a serious consideration.
The result of all these observations is, that every one ought to avoid,
with the utmost attention, all sudden transitions from heat to cold, and
to keep the body in as uniform a temperature as possible; or, where that
cannot be done, to take care to let it cool gradually.
People may imagine that too strict an attention to these things would
tend to render them delicate. So far however is this from being my
design, that the very first rule proposed for preventing colds, is to
harden the body, by enuring it daily to the open air.
I shall put an end to what relates to this part of my subject, by giving
an abstract of the justly celebrated advice of Celsus, with respect to
the preservation of health. “A man,” says he, “who is blessed with good
health, should confine himself to no particular rules, either with
respect to regimen or medicine. He ought frequently to diversify his
manner of living; to be sometimes in town, sometimes in the country; to
hunt, sail, indulge himself in rest, but more frequently to use
exercise. He ought to refuse no kind of food that is commonly used, but
sometimes to eat more and sometimes less; sometimes to make one at an
entertainment, and sometimes to forbear it; to make rather two meals
a-day than one, and always to eat heartily, provided he can digest it.
He ought neither too eagerly to pursue, nor too scrupulously to avoid,
intercourse with the fair sex: pleasures of this kind, rarely indulged,
render the body alert and active; but, when too frequently repeated,
weak and languid. He should be careful in time of health not to destroy,
by excesses of any kind, that vigour of constitution which should
support him under sickness.”