1 1 xzJ W 
i i~. '\ v 
mV w$b%rfmmmrti I'lNi ' w \ *“**%, v" ; 
i:" i tv Pif 
r‘ija^v:;'■ V.ViVwR■.', E.I»^i#,'l:-.::■ ■ \f ■ *•' jfe 
WMMMV-»*! ’-1 J AytoIf f ? '' •1 - *’+t-*-'g-l-‘J **<>^1<'«WUt4t<Y** «»«■ f ■■n> fM «» »■■. w W«C ■ «>.» •***»Kfi * ~ ~~--U-r-3 ' 
-.. «; ®teii«aK -xm- <o -> 'v>: <, HOW 
WE OUGHT 
TO LIVE; 
A PRACTICAL GUIDE, WRITTEN IN PLAIN, INTELLIGIBLE LANGUAGE, 
FOR THE PRESERVATION OF HEALTH, AND THE ATTAIN- 
MENT OF LONGEVITY; DESIGNED TO ENABLE ALL 
SO TO LIVE THAT THEY MAY REACH OLD 
AGE IN HEALTH AND COMFORT. 
BY 
JOSEPH F. EDWARDS, A.M., M.D., 
'// 
AUTHOR OF “HOW A PERSON THREATENED OR AFFLICTED WITH BRIGHT’S 
DISEASE OUGHT TO LIVE;” “DYSPEPSIA AND HOW TO AVOID IT;” 
“ CONSTIPATION, RELIEVED WITHOUT THE USE OF DRUGS; ” 
“ MALARIA ; ” “ VACCINATION; ” AND ASSISTANT EDITOR 
“ MEDICAL AND SURGICAL REPORTER.” 
PHILADELPHIA: 
H. C. WATTS CO., 
506-510 Minor Street. 
1882. Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1882, by 
JOSEPH F. EDWARDS, A.M., M.D., 
in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. C. 
WM. F. FELL & CO., 
Printers and Electrotypers, 
1220-24 Sansom St., Philadelphia. DEDICATION. 
THIS VOLUME IS RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED 
TO THE OLD MEN OF THE WORLD, 
WHOSE VERY AGE ENTITLES THEM TO RESPECT, SINCE IT IS CONCLUSIVE 
PROOF THAT THEY HAVE LIVED CORRECT LIVES. 
IN AN ESPECIAL MANNER IT IS INSCRIBED TO THOSE AGED GENTLEMEN 
WHO HAVE KINDLY ASSISTED ME, BY THEIR EXPERIENCE, 
IN ITS PREPARATION. 
TO DR. WALTER F. ATLEE, 
MY FORMER PRECEPTOR AND GOOD FRIEND, WHOSE KIND AND 
INTERESTED SERVICES HAVE DONE SO MUCH TO 
ENABLE ME TO PREPARE THIS WORK ; 
TO DR. D. G. BRINTON, 
WHO HAS ENCOURAGED ME TO GIVE IT PUBLICITY; AND 
TO ONE NEAR AND DEAR TO ME, 
TO WHOM, FIRST OF ALL, I MUST ATTRIBUTE THE PREPARATION OF THIS 
BOOK, AND TO WHOM ALL WHO MAY DERIVE ANY BENEFIT 
FROM ITS PERUSAL WILL OWE A DEBT OF 
GRATITUDE, I DEDICATE IT. PREFACE. 
The desire for long and healthy life is inherent in 
every one. It is, as it were, a legacy bequeathed from 
father to son, and is as strong to-day in the heart of man 
as it was in the beginning of time. This fact needs no 
discussion, simply because it is a fact, familiar to all. 
No sane man ever really desired not to live and not to 
enjoy health. But a fact not so familiar to every one, 
is the truth, that very few persons live as long as they 
should, neither do they enjoy that measure of health 
which they ought to. That is to say, the majority of 
human beings die unnecessarily soon; their lives might 
be much longer; they suffer needlessly from disease; 
their health might be much better. The duration of the 
life of a man is much more under his own control than 
the large majority of men imagine. There are many 
good, pious persons who would be horrified at the 
slightest suspicion that they are fatalists, yet who be- 
lieve that every human being has a certain definite time 
to live, at the end of which period he must die. This 
savors very much of fatalism, and is at the same time 
a very erroneous and dangerous belief. Rather let us 
agree with Hufeland (about whom I will tell you much 
in the body of this work), that each and every human vi 
PREFACE. 
organism inherits from its parentage a certain amount 
of vital or life force, and that when this power is ex- 
hausted death will ensue; bearing in mind the pregnant 
truth that man has it in his power to waste or save this 
inherited vital force, just as he can waste or save inher- 
ited pecuniary wealth, and that upon this very liberal- 
ism or conservatism will depend long life or premature 
death, will rest good, robust health or sickness and suf- 
fering. Every act of life, every duty performed by 
man, entails, as a result of its performance, the con- 
sumption of a certain amount of this vital inheritance. 
Every unnecessary exertion or effort put forth in the 
performance of these duties necessitates the consump- 
tion of an unnecessary amount of this vital force, so 
that it is prematurely consumed. The majority of per- 
sons exhaust their stock of vital force unnecessarily 
early, because they do not know how to preserve it; 
they are ignorant of how they ought to live. If you 
endeavor to make human nature conform to strict rules, 
you make life irksome; they feel under continual re- 
straint, they fret and fume, and soon throw off the yoke, 
when a reckless life ensues. There are, no doubt, very 
many persons who really desire to live properly; who 
are anxious to prolong their lives to the utmost possible 
limit; yet who either know not, or entertain erroneous 
ideas concerning the way they ought to live. For such 
persons this work has been conceived. In order to 
make its precepts possible of achievement, I shall make vii 
PREFACE. 
them very easy and very simple, such as can be adhered 
to by every one without depriving themselves of one 
iota of rational enjoyment. Yet at the same time they 
will be sufficiently complete and comprehensive to in- 
sure long life as the reward of their observance. Their 
devotees need not be slaves to hygiene, but, on the 
contrary, will soon find that greater health and happi- 
ness will be vouchsafed to them, and will recognize the 
rules laid down as the rules of true life. They will be 
simple indeed, and intelligible; comprehensible even to 
the least professional mind, since all technical language 
will be avoided, and only plain, common-sense English 
used. Intelligent and intelligible reasons for all the 
rules will be given, so that no one need obey blindly, 
while all can clearly understand why and wherefore 
they are recommended to do this or that. Trusting 
that I may carry health and comfort to many well-mean- 
ing but hitherto uninformed persons, I venture on my 
work. Joseph F. Edwards. 
Philadelphia, Pa., CONTENTS. 
CHAPTER I • PAGH 
Introductory—The Human Body—What is Life? and Gen- 
eral Rules for its Prolongation 25 
CHAPTER II. 
How to Care for Infants 53 
CHAPTER III. 
How to Care for Children at Home 91 
CHAPTER IV. 
How School Children Ought to Live 114 
CHAPTER V. 
Our Houses and Grounds; How to Build and Arrange 
Them; Drainage 133 
CHAPTER VI. 
Ventilation, Air and Respiration 166 
CHAPTER VII. 
How we Ought to Work 181 
CHAPTER VIII. 
How we Ought to Eat—Care of the Bowels—Water. . . 196 
CHAPTER IX. 
How to Exercise 229 
CHAPTER X. 
Bathing.' 262 
ix X 
CONTENTS. 
CHAPTER XI. PAGE 
Sleep 297 
CHAPTER XII. 
Dress 323 
CHAPTER XIII. 
Why we Ought Not to Use Tobacco 345 
CHAPTER XIV. 
Why we Ought Not to Use Alcohol 359 
CHAPTER XV. 
How to Avoid Disease 391 
CHAPTER XVI. 
How Aged Persons Ought to Live 441 
CHAPTER XVII. 
How a Consumptive Ought to Live 480 
CHAPTER XVIII. 
How a Person with Heart Disease Ought to Live 493 
CHAPTER XIX. 
How a Pregnant Woman Ought to Live 502 
CHAPTER XX. 
How a Nursing Woman Ought to Live 512 
CHAPTER XXL 
Hints for Good Nursing 519 
APPENDIX. 
Correspondence from Aged Men 539 
CONCLUSION. 
A Retrospect of the Work 617 
Index • . . 627 HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
CHAPTER I. 
INTRODUCTORY THE HUMAN BODY WHAT IS LIFE? AND 
GENERAL RULES FOR ITS PROLONGATION. 
The human body might be not inaptly compared, for 
the sake of familiar illustration, to our own United 
States. There are found in the body many different 
systems, just as we have the different States. Thus we 
have the muscular system, the nervous system, the 
circulatory system, the absorbent system, the secretory 
system, and so on. These various systems have each 
their own laws for their guidance, just as each of our 
States has its own constitution. The welfare and polit- 
ically healthy life of the whole country depends upon 
the integrity and faithful observance of the laws of each 
State. So our own welfare and the physically healthy 
life of our bodies depends upon the proper action and 
performance of duty of the various systems within us. 
The various States are under the control and direction 
of a central government, whose administration, be it 
good or bad, will to a certain extent affect the welfare 
of each individual State, beneficially or injuriously. So 
our various systems are under the control of a central 
power, so to speak—the vital power, or the property 
which endows us with life (whose executive is the intel- 
25 26 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
ligence), and which enables us to direct the actions of 
our bodies, either for their general good or their gene- 
ral woe. 
If one of our States is corrupt, and sends to the na- 
tional representation poor nourishment from which to 
form its life, in the shape of bad and depraved legislators, 
they not only do harm to themselves and their own 
State, but by interfering with and contaminating the 
other representatives they injure the country at large. 
So with the human system. If we neglect, abuse and 
deprave one particular system, unfortunately, the evil 
effects of this abuse do not remain confined to where 
they have originated, but, according to the laws of 
nature, which make each portion of the body dependent 
upon the others, they spread abroad, and, contaminat- 
ing every other system, interfere with the healthy per- 
formance of duty on their part. 
I have used the above illustration to enforce the 
statement I am now going to make— 
That a healthy and proper performance of ALL the 
functions of the body is necessary in order that we 
should enjoy perfect health and very great longevity. 
If one organ or set of organs act imperfectly, they will 
not only produce their own particular effects in causing 
disease and shortening life, but, by their interference 
with the proper duty of other and remote organs, will 
cause disease of them, and this second set, acting inju- 
riously on a third, will disease them, and so on, until 
the whole system becomes involved in this imper- 
fect performance of duty, and premature decay and 
early death ensue. Just here it will be pertinent to 
anticipate what I will have to say frequently throughout WHAT IS LIFE? 
27 
this book, and to assure you, beyond any question of 
doubt, that a man who may have some disordered 
or diseased organ or set of organs, can yet live to posi- 
tive old age. He need not and must not despair of 
long life. The absolutely and typically healthy man is 
a great rarity (more rare than Christian charity), yet 
many persons live to old age. But if you have any 
imperfectly acting organs, a diseased heart, a disordered 
kidney, a weak stomach, or an unhealthy liver, then in- 
deed must you be doubly careful. If such a defect does 
exist within you, then, by following the advice of this 
work you may and can live just as long as the sound 
man who does not take care of himself; because by so 
doing you reduce to the minimum the amount of labor 
to be performed by this weak organ, you conserve to 
the utmost the amount of vital power possessed by it, 
and enable it to work, and your body to live, much 
longer than if you had neglected these precautions. 
This is common sense. 
Let us now ask, “What is Life?" In a practical 
work like this it would be out of place and unnecessary 
to enter into philosophical dissertations as to the nature 
of this much mooted question. For our purpose it will 
be sufficient to state that Life is a peculiar, invisible 
and undefinable agency, a gift of the Almighty Creator, 
which has the power of starting and maintaining in 
motion for a certain period the various functions of the 
body, whose proper action constitutes the healthy existe7ice 
of the animal. 
Dr. Hufeland, in his valuable work,* asserts his 
belief in the fact, that a certain amount of vital power, 
* “ The Art of Prolonging Life,” written in the last century. 28 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
of this invisible agency, is born with each one of us, 
and that so long as its supply lasts, so long will we live, 
and when it becomes exhausted we will die. It must 
be evident to every one that the more carefully we 
spend this amount of force the longer it will last, and 
that the spendthrift will soon exhaust his vital wealth, 
and become, prematurely, a physical bankrupt. In order 
that this power may be economized, it is evidently 
necessary that we should know how to treat our differ- 
ent organs when they are performing their various 
functions, in order that they may do their duty with 
as little expenditure of this vital force as possible. 
If a young man inherits a large fortune, and recklessly 
spends it, he will soon come to want; but if he realizes 
his error before it is all gone, and reforms his ways, 
so as to become economical and sparing, he may 
have enough left to keep him in comfort for many 
years. So with this vital force. If any one of my 
readers has been leading a reckless life, wasting his 
vital energies, and unduly taxing his vital strength, let 
him realize, when he reads this book, that grand old 
saying, “It is never too late to mend I By economizing 
and carefully spending his remaining vital force, he may 
prolong his life for many years. Just as the finan- 
cial spendthrift may, by judicious and careful investment 
of his remaining capital, derive a good interest on his 
money, and ultimately repair, to a certain extent, his 
shattered fortune ; so the physical scapegrace can, by a 
judicious use (or investment) of the remaining vigor 
of his various organs and parts, greatly repair their 
wasted energy and power, while if he cannot absolutely 
add to his original inheritance of vital force, he can at AN ILLUSTRATIVE CASE. 
29 
least so save and regulate its manifestations as to make 
it last him many years longer than it would have done 
had he continued his reckless and imprudent life. I 
cannot better illustrate the fact, that after many years 
of reckless living a man can, by prudence and care, still 
attain great longevity in comfort and ease, and can per- 
form much labor, than by quoting from Dr. Hufeland’s 
work (already referred to) the famous case of the 
Italian, Cornaro. This case will also illustrate in a 
most marked manner how remarkably careful we must 
be in the treatment of our various organs, in order 
that they may not rebel and give us trouble. You will 
say that this is an exceptional case, and so it is, in so 
far as the very advanced age which Cornaro reached 
is concerned; but I could tell you of many cases, where 
a ripe old age (though less than his) has been reached 
through the medium of a careful, prudent life, even 
when a reckless course had been pursued for many 
years. And also remember, that what has once been 
done, can always be done again. Dr. Hufeland says: 
“ Cornaro, who, by the strictest and simplest regimen, 
and an unexampled perseverance in his plan, attained 
happily to a great age, which rewarded him richly for 
his self denial and gave an instructive lesson to pos- 
terity, was an Italian. One cannot read the history of 
the life and abstinence of this veteran of eighty-three, 
and hear how he praises that serenity and contentment 
for which he was indebted to his mode of living, with- 
out participating in his happiness and his cheerful 
sensations. Till the fortieth year of his age he had 
led a life of dissipation; had always been subject to 
colics, pains in his limbs and a fever; and was so far 30 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
reduced by the last, that his physicians assured him 
he could not live above two months, that all medicine 
would be useless, and that the only thing which could 
be recommended for him was a spare diet. Having 
followed this advice, he found, after some days, that he 
was much better, and at the end of a few years his 
health was not only perfectly reestablished, but he 
became sounder than ever he had been before. He 
resolved, therefore, to restrain himself more and more, 
and to use nothing except what was absolutely neces- 
sary for subsistence. For sixty whole years he took no 
more than twelve ounces of food, everything included, 
and thirteen ounces of drink, daily. He avoided also vio- 
lent heat and cold, as well as passion, and by this uniform 
regimen, he kept not only his body, but also his mind, in 
such a state of equality, that nothing was able to derange 
them. When at a great age he lost an important lawsuit; 
and though this disappointment hurried two of his bro- 
thers to the grave, he remained perfectly sound and re- 
signed. He was once thrown from a carriage and trod 
under the feet of the horses, so that an arm and foot 
were dislocated, but he caused them to be reduced, and, 
without the use of any medicine, was soon restored to 
his former condition. But what is most worthy of 
remark, and what proves how dangerous the smallest 
deviation from long custom may be, is what follows. 
When he was eighty years of age, his friends prevailed 
upon him, as his body now required more nourishment, 
to make a little addition to his food. Though well 
aware that with the general decay of strength the 
powers of digestion decrease also, and that in old age 
one ought rather to lessen than increase the quantity DIETETIC MODERATION. 
31 
of nourishment, he gave way to their request, and 
raised his food to fourteen and his drink to sixteen 
ounces. ‘ Scarcely,’ says he, ‘ had I continued this mode 
of living ten days, when I began, mstead of being cheer- 
ful and lively, as before, to become uneasy and dejected’ 
a burden to myself and to others. On the twelfth day I 
was seized with a pain in my side, which lasted twenty four 
hours, and this was followed by a fever, which continued 
with so much violence for thirty-five days that my life 
was despaired of. But, by the blessing of God, zzzy 
former regimen, I recovered, and now, zVz eighty- 
third year, I enjoy a happy state, both of body and mind. 
I can mount my horse without assistance ; I climb steep 
hills, and I have lately written a play, abounding in 
innocent wit and humor. When I return home from pri- 
vate company or the Senate, / find eleven grand-children, 
whose education, amusements and songs are the delight 
of my old age. I often sing myself, along with them, 
for my voice is now clearer and stronger than it ever 
was in my youth; and I am a stranger to those peevish 
and morose humors which fall so often to the lot of old 
age! In this happy disposition he attained to his 
hundredth year.” In a foot-note Dr. Hufeland says: 
“ I would earnestly advise people, before they begin 
this regimen in the strictest sense, to consult their 
physician, for abstinence, carried so far, will not be 
salutary to every one.” 
This is truly a remarkable case, and has been re- 
corded here with a purpose. I am anxious to do my 
share of good in the world, to benefit my fellow men to 
the best of my ability. Such has been my object in 
preparing this work; and in furtherance of this desire 32 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
I have quoted the case of Cornaro, because, in matters 
of health, as in matters of religion, there are many men 
living in a condition of despair. For many years they 
have neglected and abused the health born in them, and 
when, reaching the age of reason, they realize their past 
folly, a feeling of despair, akin to that of the lifelong 
sinner at the hour of death, takes possession of them, 
and they imagine that, having so long neglected to live 
as they ought, there is no hope for them, that they are 
doomed to an early death; when, in a spirit of reckless- 
ness, born of despair, they continue to gratify their de- 
praved and vitiated passions and inclinations, and live 
as they have in the past, realizing at the same time that 
they are doing wrong, but erroneously believing that 
they cannot remedy the, to them, irreparable results of 
the unfortunate past. This is an erroneous and fatal 
view. It is to antidote this deadly despair, and to in- 
spire new hope in these despondent hearts, that I have 
quoted this celebrated case. It will inspire new cour- 
age in them and force them to realize that they have 
yet the opportunity to live long and honorable lives. 
If this one point is achieved by my book, I will have 
been repaid for the many hours given to its prepara- 
tion. Just here, in the beginning, I will make an ex- 
planatory apology for what may seem like dogmatism 
throughout this work. Such a book must necessarily 
be, to a certain extent, dogmatic, since there are certain 
rules of life, just as there are rules of grammar, arith- 
metic or religion, and such rules must be enunciated 
positively, therefore there must be a certain air of dog- 
matism about them. Of course, there are some excep- 
tions to the rules I will formulate, since there is no THE HUMAN BODY. 
33 
rule so absolute as to present no exceptions, but I 
will in each case make mention of the exceptions. 
With these general remarks, let us now go more mi- 
nutely into the business of this chapter, under its three 
headings. 
I. The Human Body.—The body of man, con- 
sidered from a physical standpoint, is a marvelous ma- 
chine. Inscrutably wonderful in its origin and forma- 
tion, divinely mysterious in its functions, and immeas- 
urably potent in its possibilities, it is nevertheless, in 
reality, a machine. Bear in mind that I am not including 
the soul when I call the human body a machine; we 
are now considering the corporeal, to the exclusion of 
the divinely spiritual portion of man, with which we will 
have to do only incidentally. I wish this point to be 
clearly understood, since, although materialism and 
religion are perfectly compatible beliefs, yet I do not 
deem it proper to discuss them in a work like the 
present, and I do not wish to be misunderstood, when 
advancing such materialistic views as I shall; I intend 
them only to apply to the body and not the soul of man ; 
so that we will leave the spiritual portion of mankind 
out of consideration. 
No doubt I will be severely criticised by some per- 
sons, and will be accused of a want of proper apprecia- 
tion of the wonderfully divine functions of the human 
body, when I call this body a machine. The overly sensi- 
tive feelings of some will be wounded by this application 
of a word so common, so mundane, and even, maybe, 
so vulgar, as machine, to an organization so delicate, so 
refined, so divine in its origin, so god-like, so wonderful, 
so superhuman, and so incomprehensible in its mani- 34 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
festations, as the human body. Yet the comparison is 
not so inapt nor so overdrawn as would at first appear. 
In his Unabridged Dictionary Webster defines the word 
machine as follows: “In general, any body or assem- 
blage of bodies used to transmit and modify force and 
motion, as a lever, pulley, wedge, screw, etc.; espe- 
cially a construction, more or less complex, consisting 
of a combination of moving parts, or simple mechan- 
ical elements, as wheels, levers, cams, etc., with their 
supports and connecting framework, calculated to 
receive force and motion from a prime-mover or from 
another machine, and transmit, modify and apply them 
to the production of some desired mechanical effect or 
work, as weaving by a loom or the excitation of elec- 
tricity by an electrical machine.” “ 3d. Any instrument 
or organization by which power is applied and made 
effective, or a desired effect produced; the whole com- 
plex system by which any organization or institution 
exists or is carried on!' In his Medical Dictionary, 
Dunglison says: “ The human body is the collection of 
organs which compose the frame.” Is not the human 
frame a collection of organs and parts intended to re- 
ceive, modify and transmit motion and force? Is it not 
an “ Instrument by which power is applied and made 
effective, or a desired effect produced ?” Does not the 
human machine receive vital force from its maker, and 
does it not modify, regulate and transmit this force so 
as to accomplish a certain effect, known as life ? Is not 
the human body, therefore, truly a machine ? Let us 
compare the seemingly most intelligent, the most hu- 
man of hand-made machines, the locomotive engine, to 
the body of man. As you see the handsome, bright A MECHANICAL ANALOGY. 
35 
locomotive rushing through the country at the rate of 
fifty miles an hour, drawing after it many tons of dead 
weight, without, to the eye of the casual observer, any 
visible reason or cause for it to move at all, does it not 
seem, even to the least romantic, to the most matter- 
of-fact individual, to be more than a mere thing of iron 
and brass ? Does it not almost seem to possess life, 
human life, to be endowed with intelligence ? It gene- 
rates and transmits force, and as a resultant circum- 
«• 
stance, it produces definite action. Neither are its per- 
formances, in reality, any less mysterious than the phe- 
nomena of human life. The fireman puts coal into the 
furnace and water into the boiler of his machine; the 
coal burns and produces heat, the heat expands the par- 
ticles of water and converts them into steam, the 
steam is conveyed through a series of pipes and gives 
power and force to this mighty thing of iron to move 
and to present to our wondering gaze startling and 
marvelous exhibitions of power and strength. This 
much we know. But the ultimate why, the very inti- 
mate, minute and final question, why this burning of 
coal, and generation of heat, and vaporization of water, 
should convey to this hitherto heavy, dead, inert mass 
of iron such terrific force, must ever remain an unan- 
swered question, a mysterious problem, as much so as 
the ultimate why and wherefore of all the mysterious 
phenomena of this beautiful and mysterious world. 
Now to our other machine, the human one. 
Food is introduced into the stomach, it meets with 
and is acted upon by the juices of digestion, and as a 
result is converted into nourishment suitable for the 
body; as such (as blood) it is carried through a series 36 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
of pipes (blood vessels), and parting with its power 
or force, gives power and force to the various organs 
of the body to perform their different functions, the 
sum total of whose actions constitutes life. But the 
final why this food is capable of producing this force 
will ever remain an impenetrable mystery, as much so 
as the production of force from steam in the locomotive. 
The human machine, however, is, of course, infinitely 
more delicate, more wonderful, and more perfect in its 
organization and its manifestations than the locomotive. 
It is the highest type of machinery, upon which, how- 
ever, all other forms are modeled. It clearly bears 
upon it the stamp of its divine and mysterious origin. 
The machine of iron is the work of man, and bears 
within itself no power of repair or renewal. Made by 
human agency, it possesses merely the power to utilize 
the fuel-or food supplied to it, in generating force, and 
cannot, like the human machine, perpetuate itself. Once 
worn out, its elements can, it is true, be utilized in the 
manufacture of a new machine, but only through the 
intervention of the hand of man; while the human 
machine, once made by the hand or will of a divine 
power, not only possesses the requisites to generate 
force sufficient for life, but can renew and repair its 
waste, its wear and tear, and is capable of perpetu- 
ating, of originating machines like unto itself. The 
printing machine possesses the power of printing; the 
human machine is gifted with the power of writing. 
The human machine can walk; iron machinery, in the 
shape of clock-work, can give this same power to the 
inanimate doll of wood. The human machine can re- 
ceive, digest and utilize meat and vegetables, and con- MENTAL SUPERIORITY. 
37 
vert them into force; the iron machine can receive and 
consume coal and convert it into force. The man-made 
* 
machine requires periods of rest and repose, else it 
will prematurely wear out; the divinely-made machine 
likewise requires these same periods. The phono- 
graphic machine can speak; the human machine can 
do the same. The stove can generate heat by the 
burning of carbon; the human body can also produce 
heat by the same process. The human machine has 
the ability of relieving itself from any excess of nour- 
ishment which may be forced upon it; the boiler, 
through the agency of the safety valve, can relieve 
itself of any excessive and dangerous quantity of steam 
that may have been generated from too much-nourish- 
ment or fuel. The human machine is sensitive to 
changes of weather.; the barometrical machine also 
responds to them. The human machine, through the 
agency of its nervous system, can transmit impressions; 
the telegraphic machine does the same. The human 
machine has means of getting rid of its waste; the ifon 
machine has similar appliances. The human machine 
can sew; the improved sewing machine can do it better. 
So I could go on indefinitely, and point out the resem- 
blance between my human machine and the iron 
machines of men. The human body is, of course, a 
much, an incomparably, finer machine than any other. 
It not only possesses the properties of them all, but it 
is endowed with some functions wanting in them ; thus 
demonstrating its divine handiwork. It can think; it 
possesses a mind, a soul, and hence is, in its original 
conception at least, a perfect machine; though, unfor- 
tunately, its perfection has in many cases been marred 38 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
by the hand of man. You have my reasons for calling 
your body a machine, and I have made my apologies 
to those whose sensibilities might be wounded by the 
apparent harshness of my comparison. I have endeav- 
ored to make you regard your body as a machine, for 
a purpose. The majority of men do not regard the 
body at all; they rarely think of it, and when they do, 
it is rather to regard it as a mysterious something, they 
know not, and care less, what. It serves their purpose. 
Through its agency they can make money and gratify 
their passions, and this is all they care about. When 
the body dies (in the commonly accepted usage of the 
term), that is, when the soul departs from it, the friends 
and relatives of this mass of clay pay great respect to 
it, and treat it as something sacred—the body, mind 
you, not the soul. This is additional proof (if any more 
were wanted than their every-day life) that the majority 
of men have either no conception at all, or, at the very 
best, a false one, of the true value of the body. The 
body, worthless as it may seem to cynical philosophers, 
is nevertheless, when truly weighed and considered, a 
most sublime machine. Upon its integrity depends all 
that is pleasant and desirable in life. As the residence 
of the intelligence of man, it is entitled to great respect. 
As it would be impossible to generate great steam 
power in a weak boiler, so it is impossible to produce 
intellectual greatness in an unsound body. The psych- 
ical life must be fed from a healthy stomach, and have 
healthy surroundings, else its manifestations are lim- 
ited. 
Since the engineer takes better care of his locomo- 
tive, oftentimes, than he does of himself, realizing how WHAT IS MAN? 
39 
easily it may get out of order; and since man generally 
considers human-made machinery as very delicate and 
very easily deranged, and hence requiring great atten- 
tion, it has occurred to me that if man were to realize 
that his own body is but a machine, he might be induced 
to treat it with more tenderness and consideration. 
Hence my reason for demonstrating the similarity 
between the body of a man and a machine. 
We will now proceed to the second portion of our 
chapter. 
II. What is Life.—A short definition has already 
been furnished, and in a practical work, we need say 
but little else, since, for all practical purposes, every 
one knows what life is. 
But if we may be pardoned the digression, let us 
for a moment lay aside the mechanical aspect of man, 
and in connection with life, viewing man from a less 
mundane and a more spiritual standpoint, inquire again 
what is man ? Religion tells us, “ Remember, man, that 
thou art dust, and unto dust thou shalt return.” Philos- 
ophers moralize on the worthlessness of the human body, 
and satirize it. Poets sing the praises of the soul,, and 
deride its residence of clay. The medical man regards 
the body as a general hospital, and its diseased organs 
as patients requiring his ministrations. The business 
man works his body for all it is worth, and considers it 
an indefinite something, never stopping to reflect what 
it in reality is. What then is man from this new stand- 
point? Man is, in reality, an animal, just as much so as 
a fly, a flea or a mosquito is. Man is a combination of 
organs and parts ; man is a machine ; man is an animal. 
The microscopic germ, invisible to the naked eye, of 40 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
'the trichina in pork, is a living animal, as much so as 
man is. It is capable of growth, development and re- 
production, just as man is. The horse, the cow, the 
dog, the wild beasts of the forest and the fishes of the 
sea, are all animals, just as man is. They all consist of 
an aggregation of organs and parts, whose functions 
and duties are to originate, transmit and modify force 
and motion. Wherein, then, lies the difference between 
man and the lower animals ? Merely in the superior 
capacity for development enjoyed by man. Man alone, 
of all the animals, possesses a soul, and this mysterious 
and wonderful soul is merely the condition of high 
psychical development of which the human animal alone 
is capable. The soul is a mysterious something, which 
always has and always will be an indefinite, intangible 
idea. The anatomist cannot point to any organ and 
say, “ this is the soul!' The physiologist cannot accu- 
rately or satisfactorily designate the functions of the 
soul; while the theologian does tell us that the soul is 
that portion of man which is in intimate relation with 
the Deity. This explanation, unsatisfactory as it may 
be to the scientific and materialistic mind, is undoubt- 
edly the best and fullest definition of the soul that we 
can have in this world of mysterious uncertainties, and 
with it we must be satisfied. However, a metaphysical 
discussion concerning the identity of the soul is useless 
and unnecessary. Profound thought, speculation and 
penetration into the impenetrable religious mysteries 
have usually, or indeed always, one of two terminations. 
They end either with as much doubt and uncertainty 
as they began, or they are brought to a rational close 
in a lunatic asylum. Therefore, let us relegate these HOW TO PROLONG LIFE. 
41 
problems to the poor fools who, in their blind egotism, 
foolishly imagine that they possess the divine wisdom 
necessary to unravel them, and talk about something 
that our human minds can comprehend, a knowledge 
of which will redound to our benefit. So, let us define 
man as the most perfect illustration of the highest type of 
animal life. Let us define an animal as a collection of 
organs and, parts whose ditty it is, each to contribute its 
individual work toward the performance of one grand 
function, which function we will call life. 
Now, then, we have hastily studied the human being 
under two aspects— 
I. The human body, without taking into considera- 
tion the vital force or life, and this aggregation we 
denominate a machine. 
II. The human body endowed with vital force, life or 
intelligence, and this combination we call the highest 
type of animal life. 
This brings us to our third heading— 
III. General Rules for its Prolongation.—This 
subject will be considered in detail in the various chap- 
ters of this book, but some general remarks on the 
subject will here be pertinent. 
It is a significant fact, and one worthy of note, that 
physicians, as a class, are long lived. Of course, 
leaving out of consideration those who die from acute 
and contagious diseases or from exposure incident to the 
practice of their profession, and considering those who 
die from chronic diseases, which, if not inherited (and 
even then, very often), are in many cases directly 
traceable to and much influenced by mode of life. Why 
do physicians enjoy in an especial degree this great 42 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
boon of long life ? Because they have a knowledge of 
physiology, they are familiar with the duties and func- 
tions of their organs, they know how to treat them in 
order to keep them in good condition, and to get out 
of them the greatest amount of work of which they are 
capable, to preserve their integrity and their functional 
activity for the greatest possible number of years; in 
other words, they know how they ought to live, just as 
the engineer knows how he ought to care for his engine; 
and the majority of them do live as they ought to. 
To live as you ought to, all your functions must be 
properly performed. To have them performed proper- 
ly you must treat all your organs properly. The human 
machine is so delicately made, its various parts are so 
accurately adapted and so nicely fitted, that they are, 
so to speak, interdependent; each system, each set of 
organs, though anatomically distinct, and physiologically 
unlike (to a certain extent), having duties to perform, 
each peculiar to itself, are dependent one upon the 
other, and without any particular system or set of 
organs life would be impossible. To illustrate. The 
furnace and boiler of a locomotive might be perfect, 
the fuel good and the water plenty; steam would be 
generated; but if the driving rod were broken or out 
of order, the locomotive could not move. Again, the 
driving rod might be perfect, but one of the wheels 
broken; the engine could not perform its work. Every 
part of this machine must be in order or it cannot per- 
form its duty. So it is with the human machine. No 
one part can be really called more important than another, 
since all are absolutely necessary. Therefore all must 
be treated with the greatest politeness and consideration. REPOSE AFTER EATING. 
43 
Dr. Hufeland enunciates an eminent truth when he 
says, “ The more a man follows nature and is obedient 
to her laws, the longer he will live ; the further he de- 
viates from these, the shorter will be his existence.” To 
believe this, you have only to consider the lower ani- 
mals, who live in strict accordance with nature. Many 
of them, as the horse, the dog, and so on, are formed 
very much as man is, so far as their internal organs 
are concerned, and yet how much more work, physically, 
even in proportion to their extra strength, they are 
capable of performing, and how comparatively little 
disease exists among them. This is largely due to the 
fact that these lower animals, lacking the superior 
intelligence of man, are guided alone by their instinct, 
which might be called their natural intelligence. See 
how carefully a dog will smell any new and unfamiliar 
article of food, before tasting it, and how very few 
things he will eat. 
Indeed, my friends, we can all learn many of nature’s 
laws from the brute creation. I have now four little 
bull pups. I am daily amused and instructively edified 
to see how they will greedily lap up their meal of milk, 
and, when satisfied, will toddle back to their house, lie 
quietly down, lick their chops, and placidly wait till the 
milk is digested and made into nourishment for their 
little bodies. They know and appreciate, better than 
most men do, the secret of digestion. They do not 
rush off to work or play with their stomachs full of food, 
but realizing (solely from the instinct that guides all of 
their actions) that rest and quiet are absolutely neces- 
sary to proper digestion, they lie down and wait. Their 
want of the higher intelligence (which I am afraid 44 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
proves oftener a curse than a blessing to man) prevents 
them from inventing food or drink which will be inju- 
rious to them, and their instinct, whose dictates they 
always obey, causes them to reject that which is inju- 
rious or hurtful to them. The cow is an animated 
machine. Raw cotton goes into the mill by one door 
and comes out of another as beautiful white muslin. 
Green grass goes into one part of the cow and comes 
out of another portion as rich, nourishing milk. But 
the cow is a very sensible machine. When her stomach 
is full of grass, she does not run around and play, but 
quietly lying down in some shady spot, she chews, and 
chews, and chews, and at the end of the day, behold, 
we have several quarts of milk. If she does run around, 
or if you chase her to the milking place, her machinery 
is deranged, the process of manufacturing milk is im- 
properly carried on, and the supply, in consequence, is 
inferior and unhealthy. So it is with man. If he fails 
to do what he ought to do, his delicate machinery be- 
comes deranged, and all the phenomena of life, manu- 
factured by this imperfect machinery, are incomplete 
in their manifestations. 
Our bodies are continually dying piecemeal, and 
continually being renewed, from the very date of birth 
until the final period of death of the body in mass. 
That is to say, every act of life entails the destruction 
(or to be more correct, since matter is indestructible, 
causes such a change in the composition of the material 
engaged in such action as to render it utterly unfit to 
form a part of the body) of that portion of the body in 
which such action has taken place. To illustrate: sup- 
pose you bend your finger; muscular action is neces- REPARATION OF WASTE. 
45 
sary to do so; well, some portions of the muscle which 
has contracted to bend your finger have by that very 
act been so altered in elementary composition that they 
cannot any longer form a part of that muscle; they 
must be removed, and in their stead new muscular tissue 
will be deposited. The familiar saying, that the body 
of man changes in its composition every seven years, 
is, therefore, in the abstract, true, though no definite 
time for this change can bfe assigned, for the following 
reason: use causes destruction or alteration. There 
are certain involuntary functions of life; such as the 
heart’s action, respiration, digestion, assimilation, secre- 
tion, excretion, and so on, which are continually in 
operation, and which go on independently of the will, 
and over which the will has no control. These duties 
will, of course, cause the alteration of the elements of 
the material concerned in their performance. But in 
some bodies these various functions are much more 
active than in others. Again, there are certain volun- 
tary phenomena of life, certain duties that are directly 
under the control of the will; as walking, riding, talk- 
ing, singing, thinking, muscular contraction of various 
kinds, and the like. Now it is a well-known fact that 
some persons perform much more voluntary labor than 
others; therefore, of course, in such the changes of tissue 
will necessarily be much more rapid. But to reiterate, 
every act of living, voluntary and involuntary, entails, 
as a result of its performance, the alteration and 
subsequent removal of the tissue concerned in its per- 
formance. This void must be filled, else the body 
would be incomplete. The food we take, is principally 
to supply the waste occasioned by this death. 46 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
To maintain a perfect life, in a perfect manner, a fully 
developed man must daily give off a sum of dead and 
worthless tissue, equal to the amount of renovating 
principles which he takes into his system. To illus- 
trate : suppose in a stove you burn a given amount of 
coal in twenty-four hours. The residual ashes, with the 
gases given off, if all collected, would be found to 
exactly equal in quantity the amount of the original 
coal, which, during its chemical transformation into 
ashes and gases, has produced heat. But if you do 
not remove all of the waste, if you allow each day a 
small and daily increasing quantity of ashes to remain 
in the grate, by-and-by the stove becomes choked, the 
coal cannot properly burn, and the heat is not pro- 
duced in full quantity. The function of the stove is in- 
terfered with by the accumulation of dead coal or ashes. 
So with the human body; if the dead tissue is not all 
removed as it should be, if the organs whose duty it is 
to effect this removal do not properly do their duty, 
this dead tissue must remain in the body, and so 
remaining, it must interfere to such an extent with 
the functions of the body, that the grand combined func- 
tion of life is but imperfectly carried on. In other 
words, the reproduction must exactly equalize the de- 
struction. In childhood and youth the reproduction ex- 
ceeds the destruction, because the body is not yet fully 
formed, and needs to grow, as well as to live; in old 
age, and as we near final death, the decay predomi- 
nates ; while in the prime of life, when the body is fully 
formed, these two processes must be equal, if we de- 
sire perfect health. Hippocrates thoroughly realized 
this fact when he said, “There must be an exact bal- NECESSITY OF EXERCISE. 
47 
ance between food and exercise, and that disease re- 
sults from excess either way.” By this word exercise, 
you must understand that he means the functions of 
life, since all motion, all duty, is really exercise (the 
word properly used not being confined to calisthenics), 
and therefore all performance of duty on the part of 
vital organs is in reality exercise of them. 
Excess.—One of the greatest enemies to longevity is 
excess. Excess in anything is improper, and to a certain 
extent prejudicial to the enjoyment of perfect health. 
Excesses of some kinds, such as in good, wholesome ex- 
ercise, pleasurable emotions, agreeable and light labor, 
mental or bodily, will not, of course, prove so injurious 
to our life and health as the excessive indulgence in 
unwholesome food and drink, violent passions, great 
muscular and mental strain, or the like. Still, at the 
same time, the grand fundamental principle always 
has, still does, and always will hold good, that a 
happy medium in the exercise of all the functions and 
powers with which a kind Providence has endowed us, 
conduces in the highest degree to the enjoyment of the 
longest life in a state of health, of which each individual 
organization is capable. 
Dr. Hufeland tells us that “No idler ever attained to 
a great age.” For many reasons this is true ; but suffice 
it here to say that, as excess of work does injury, so 
too little work does equally much or more harm to the 
vital organs. The life organs become rusty, as it 
were; not receiving the natural stimulus of healthy 
action, they prematurely give out, and early death 
results. Therefore, again, you must understand that 
all parts of our human machine must work properly. 48 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
Parke, in the introduction to his work on Hygiene, 
says, “ In the midst of all our weakness, and all our 
many errors, we are certainly gaining knowledge, and 
that knowledge tells us, in no doubtful terms, that the 
fate of man is in his own hands.” What a pregnant 
sentence. He means therein to convey the idea, that 
many of the diseases incident to life are very much un- 
der our control, and that their existence may, in time, 
be eradicated by proper hygienic measures. That 
there can be no doubt of the truth of his statement 
numerous facts furnish evidence. Prominent among 
them, I might cite the fact that in England, during the 
last two hundred years, the annual death rate has been 
reduced from 80 in every 1000 to 24 in every 1000. 
During this period, sanitary societies and boards of 
health have been organized, hygiene has been 
recognized as a science, and the medical profession 
have, year by year, given more attention and thought 
to the prevention of disease. An ounce of prevention 
is worth a pound of cure, or, as Dr. Parke says, “ It 
has been proved over and over again that nothing is so 
costly in all ways as disease, and that nothing is so re- 
munerative as the outlay which augments health, and 
in doing so, augments the amount and value of the 
work done.” Sensible and progressive mill owners 
can fully realize the entire truthfulness of this state- 
ment. 
It will be useless and unnecessary to here discuss 
how long a man ought to live. Many learned theories 
have been advanced on this point, but still we cannot 
set a definite period, and say to man that he ought to 
live so long. His length of life (from what I have LONGEVITY ATTAINABLE. 
49 
already said) will be dependent upon two points: First, 
the amount of vital force born in him, and second, the 
care or neglect which this vital force receives. The 
vital inheritance which he receives may give him the 
power to live to a certain age, as it no doubt does, but 
by abusing and foolishly wasting this force, he may, 
and undoubtedly will, die much sooner. 
There is a thought occurs to me about longevity, 
worthy of record. In Europe we find many more per- 
sons reaching extreme old age than we do in the United 
States. Now why ? Because in Europe the various coun- 
tries have been settled and developed for many years, 
and the inhabitants thereof have had time to devote some 
attention to strictly personal considerations. To fol- 
low this thought and bring it down to narrow confines, 
let me remind you that New England is the most pop- 
ulous, most developed and most refined portion of the 
United States, and that there we find the greatest 
proportion of aged persons, as the statistical tables in 
my appendix will demonstrate. Now, again, why is 
this ? Because in every new and undeveloped country 
man is so busily engaged, his time is so thoroughly oc- 
cupied, and his energies are so completely consumed in 
developing the natural resources of the country around 
him, that he has but little time to bestow upon thought 
of himself. When the material resources of a region 
are developed and settled upon a secure basis, man then 
has time to spare, and, oftentimes for want of some- 
thing else to do, he commences to think about himself, 
and to give his body some consideration. Thus it is 
that we find the greatest longevity where we find the 
greatest refinement and cultivation, and thus it is that, 50 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
unfortunately, in the United States, we find so many 
premature deaths from overwork and exhaustion. 
This has been one of my reasons for preparing this 
work, since, if I can cause my countrymen to consider 
themselves (from a rational standpoint) a little more 
than they do, they will be able to develop their country 
in due time, while they will also preserve that measure 
of health, and attain that degree of longevity which 
they ought to. 
Let me conclude this preliminary chapter, by again 
telling you that you have your own life, to a great ex- 
tent, in your own hands. If you live properly, you will 
reach a ripe old age; if you do not, you will surely die 
before your ordained time. 
Before taking up the different portions of this work 
in detail, let us for a brief space consider, that we may 
rightly understand, what are the duties of the human 
machine. This is not a work on either anatomy or 
physiology, therefore we will not discuss the formation 
of the various organs of the body, neither will we enter 
into their minute functions. But we will merely decide 
what are the visible, obvious duties of life, and describe 
how these duties must be performed in order that long 
life may be enjoyed. In order that a man shall live in 
the world of to-day, he must eat, drink, sleep, work, 
exercise, dress, breathe, rest and get rid of waste. 
These are the principal points upon which human life 
is dependent. There are many collateral questions to 
be considered, but these are the absolutely essential 
ones. In the body of this work we shall take up each 
one of these necessities of life, and explain how (and 
why) each duty of life should be performed, in order SIMPLE RULES FOR LIVING. 
51 
that health and long- life shall be secured. One word 
more of explanation, before we enter into the soul of 
our work. It has been said, and truthfully, that a 
little knowledge is a very dangerous possession. Par- 
ticularly has this been applied to a little knowledge of 
medicine and its collateral branches. I do not intend 
in this work to give you this dangerously small amount 
of medical information. Again, persons often say; if I 
have to live by strict rule, in order that I may live long, 
I would much prefer to live as I choose, to enjoy my- 
self, and die sooner. I do not intend to enunciate 
strict rules. I appreciate myself, as thoroughly as any 
of my readers possibly can, how very irksome and dis- 
agreeable the very strict rules enunciated by some 
physicians are apt to become, and I know full well how 
difficult of observance they are, and how very frequent- 
ly they are disregarded. I also realize that the men- 
tal anxiety oftentimes induced, either by the effort to 
follow, or the worriment caused by a conscious disre- 
gard of, the strict rules, will so react on the system as 
to defeat the very purpose for which they have been 
formulated, and will rather tend to shorten than prolong 
life. Finally, I also know, that excessively stringent 
rules of life are, in themselves, de facto, in many cases, 
directly opposed to the promotion of longevity. 
Therefore, let it be clearly understood, before I for- 
mulate them, that my laws of health will be neither 
very strict nor at all unpleasant nor irksome. They 
will be so easy, and their prosecution attended with so 
little self denial, that in a short time the majority of 
persons will find them much pleasanter than the way 
they have been living, and will derive positive pleasure 52 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
and satisfaction, as well as health and longevity, from 
their observance. I had a gentleman say to me (only 
yesterday), when I had told him that by doing as I de- 
sired he might live twenty years and more, though a 
confirmed invalid, “ Oh! yes, by doing as you desire; but 
you wont allow me to do anything'.' When I brought 
him down to close quarters, he was forced to admit 
that all I had asked him to do was to go to bed early 
(about ten or eleven o’clock), to get up early, to eat 
regularly, to exercise, and to limit his allowance of 
whisky and tobacco. Not very hard rules, yet he 
fought against them ; though by their observance he 
has improved in health and can enjoy life much more 
than formerly. 
Observation of nature and hygienic research have 
enabled us to penetrate very far into the life which our 
Creator desires us to live, and when we understand it 
rightly, we discover that such a life does not necessitate 
the deprivation of one single rational enjoyment. 
In order to be systematic, I will commence at the 
beginning, and will point out the mode of life that is 
suitable for infants. I will then direct the baby through 
the various stages of life, until it reaches maturity, when 
I will discuss in detail the life that ought to be led by 
an adult. NURSING INFANTS. 
53 
CHAPTER II. 
HOW TO CARE FOR INFANTS. 
So many good books have been written on this sub- 
ject that I will not attempt to go into detail concerning 
it. This volume is merely intended to give hints as to 
how a person may live comfortably as well as wisely. 
I will repeat again what I have already said, that I do 
not intend, neither do I think it wise, to enunciate very 
strict rules, since if I did they would surely be violated. 
Therefore, I only enunciate the most important ones, 
by a faithful observance of which a reasonable degree 
of longevity may be attained. For those who may 
need or desire information on any special subject, 
there are an abundance of very good books to 
which they can refer. This volume would be larger 
than Webster’s Unabridged, were I to minutely discuss 
all the subjects contained therein. So I only outline 
them, but sufficiently comprehensively to insure long 
life to those who follow the precepts enunciated. 
Attention to the new-born child is evidently of para- 
mount importance, since, by care or neglect, you may 
lay the foundation for future health and happiness, or 
for sickness and misery. 
A golden and primary rule is that, whenever pos- 
sible, mothers should nurse their children. There are, 
of course, some cases where this is not advisable, but 
such a question ought to be decided by an intelligent 
physician. 54 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
Babies ought to be nursed, as nearly as possible, at 
regular intervals. A vigorous baby, when very young, 
should be nursed not less often than every three hours, 
and if you can get it in the habit of sucking at regular 
periods, you will find it much better for the baby and 
more comfortable for yourself. Some babies will suck 
as long as you will allow them, not seeming to know 
when they have had enough. They thus over-distend 
their stomachs, giving them more work to do than they 
can accomplish. You will know this to be the case, 
when you notice them spitting out a quantity of milk 
after nursing. Hence I would recommend you to take 
them away from the breast before they leave it of their 
own accord. If you have been nursing them for five 
minutes at a time, reduce it to three, and in a short 
time you can tell by experience how long it takes for 
them to get what they require, thus easing their little 
stomachs of excessive work, and what is very import- 
ant to the nurse, keeping their clothing clean. 
This is really one of the most important and one of the 
most generally neglected rules in the management of 
infants. Every physician has often had young moth- 
ers come to him, complaining that “ baby cries so much; 
it cries all the timeupon asking the question “what 
do you do when baby cries ?” the answer is, “ I put it 
to the breast, because I think it must be hungry; but 
it cries all the more.” Of course it does. Baby is 
crying because it has dyspepsia. You are overloading 
its stomach. I have repeatedly given the directions 
noted above to such persons (without any medicine) 
and the result has been that baby did not cry any 
more. It is difficult to induce mothers to carry out DUTY OF MOTHERS. 
55 
this advice, since they deem it cruel to refuse the 
breast to baby when it is crying; but if they will only 
persevere for a while in this plan, they will find it to 
work admirably. 
Babies require to be bathed more frequently than 
grown people, because the structural changes are more 
rapid in them. Their skin is more delicate, and much 
more susceptible to harm than that of an adult, from 
the accumulation of dirt upon it. Therefore, a baby 
should, in summer time, be bathed daily, and in winter 
at least three times a week. This bath should be given 
just before the mid-day nap, which all babies require, 
since it is necessary for them to have more sleep than 
adults. 
You must remember, that while in the fully formed 
adult the processes of waste and repair are continually 
going on, in the baby, in addition to these pro- 
cesses, development and growth are taking place. 
Since this additional duty imposes extra work on all 
the organs and parts, so, logically, do these organs and 
parts require more rest; therefore is it that nature 
ordains that the greater portion of a young baby’s life 
is passed in eating and sleeping. 
Young mothers must realize, if they desire to have 
strong, healthy children, that their duties commence 
from the very hour of birth. They must clearly under- 
stand that from the very first day of life must com- 
mence the education and training of the child. The 
sooner this process is commenced the easier will it be 
to carry it out, since the younger the child the more 
pliable it will be, and the more susceptible to good or 
bad influences. 56 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
As a rule, young mothers with their first child know 
very little, and unless guided by wiser counsel, are 
very apt to fall into errors of a most serious nature. 
I once knew a very intelligent lady who, upon the 
birth of her first child, was unable to nurse it, because 
she did not have enough milk. Deciding to give it the 
bottle, she asked her doctor how to prepare cow’s milk 
for the baby. He told her to commence by using about 
one part milk and one part water. This mixture looked 
very weak and watery to her inexperienced eyes; she 
felt sure that it did not contain enough nourishment for 
her baby, in spite of the more experienced statement 
of her physician. She had the idea that most young 
mothers have, that the richer the food the more nour- 
ishment it contains, and she did not know that a baby’s 
stomach is a very delicate organ. Therefore, she rea- 
soned, or impulsively concluded, without reasoning, 
that the doctor was wrong, and that she knew better 
than he did what was good and proper for her baby. 
So she not only gave baby pure cow’s milk without any 
water, but actually would add to it cream. The re- 
sult was that this food was too rich for the little baby’s 
stomach, and he had dyspepsia; he was unable to di- 
gest it, so that until he was three years old he was sub- 
jected to all the sufferings and inconveniences of indi- 
gestion. A very careful diet ultimately restored the 
stomach to good condition, but it required great cau- 
tion, and was a great source of worriment to the moth- 
er, when it could all have been avoided by acting on 
the physician’s advice. So, you see, young mothers re- 
quire a great deal of advice, or they and their children 
will suffer for the want of it. DUTY OF PHYSICIANS. 
57 
It is true that instinct teaches them a great deal, but 
it will not suffice for all the emergencies that may arise 
during infancy. Instinct is a very reliable guide for 
the lower animals, and to a certain extent, does assist 
human nature, but it will not do all, because human na- 
ture is much more apt to go wrong than the lower ani- 
mals. The intelligence of the brute is so much below 
that of the higher animal, of man, that its actions are 
subordinate to and are controlled by instinct; but 
when we rise to the level of the human being we find 
intelligence, we find the ability to think, to reason, and 
to formulate actions on the result of this reasoning, 
therefore, instinct becomes a subordinate influence; 
its place in the lower animal is, in man, filled by reason. 
Since this ability to reason has been vouchsafed to the 
human kind it becomes necessary that we learn how to 
reason correctly, and to do so, it is an essential that 
our groundwork—that our first arguments—upon 
which we base our reasoning, be correct. 
When we come to medical subjects, it is not to be ex- 
pected that those outside of the profession would have 
the knowledge necessary to direct their reasoning into 
the proper channel; how could they ? Their lives may 
have been devoted to farming, to mercantile pursuits or 
to what not; but unless they have made a special study 
of medicine they are incapable of reasoning on medical 
questions from a just and substantial basis. There- 
fore it becomes the duty of those who have made a 
special study of this branch of science, of physicians, 
to so enlighten their fellow creatures on some of the 
fundamental truths of human nature, as to enable 
them to reason intelligently for themselves. 58 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
Especially is this important in the care and manage- 
ment of children. The young infant is full of possibil- 
ities ; no one can say for what grand possibilities he or 
she may have been created, and but few mothers real- 
ize how great a part they have to play in the fulfill- 
ment of their children’s destiny. 
How little did poor old Mrs. Garfield imagine, when 
nursing her baby at the breast, that he was one day 
destined to become the ideal hero, not only of a great 
nation, but to be admired and mourned over by the 
universal civilized world. Yet so it turned out. I 
would say to every young mother, you have no more 
idea of the future of your son or daughter than this 
good old lady had, but at the same time I must say, you 
have the power to influence baby’s future life most 
absolutely in your hands. 
To understand this, you must know that all parts of 
the human body are very intimately associated one 
with another, through the agency both of the circula- 
tion (that is, the blood) and the nervous system. It is 
very rarely the case that one part suffers alone; you 
will generally find that when one organ or part becomes 
deranged, some other organ or part will have a share 
in the trouble. When a man fails in business it rarely 
happens that he is the only sufferer, since, owing to the 
credit system in vogue, many others are dependent up- 
on him as he was upon them ; therefore, his failure has 
many ramifications, and shoots off into remote quarters, 
to influence many who were but indirectly connected 
with him. So in the human body there is a credit sys- 
tem, so to speak. Each organ, or set of organs or parts, 
are very dependent upon other organs or parts for INTER-DEPENDENCE OF ORGANS. 
59 
the ability to properly perform their duty. If A owes 
B one thousand dollars, B, if reasonably sure that he 
will receive the money at the appointed time, may, in 
good faith, promise to pay C six hundred dollars; but 
if in the meantime A fails, B will not receive the money, 
C will suffer, and through him D and all the rest of the 
alphabet will be inconvenienced. So with the human 
body. All the organs have a right to expect that the 
stomach will furnish good nourishment to them. If the 
stomach’s messenger (the blood) stops at the liver and 
says to it, the stomach has failed to fulfill its contract; 
instead of giving me good nourishment to bring to you, 
it has sent me out adulterated; it has furnished me with 
a full quantity of material, but the quality is bad; it 
does not contain the necessary elements that you 
require to meet your obligations, I know; but I cannot 
help it, since I give to you what I have received from 
the stomach, and I cannot do any better. 
The liver will then justly say, I cannot properly do 
my duty unless I receive good nourishment. How can 
you expect me to remove from the blood, to secrete 
and excrete, that which I ought ordinarily to do, unless 
you furnish me the necessary power to do so, in the 
shape of good, pure blood. I receive my nourishment 
from the blood, and my power to do my duty is derived 
from the blood; now if you, Sir Stomach, will send me 
bad blood, you interfere with my proper nourishment 
and you cannot expect me to do my duty properly. So 
the liver does not remove from the blood what nature 
intended that it should, and some foreign elements are 
left in this fluid. After a while the blood reaches the 
kidneys, which are eagerly waiting for good nourish- 60 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
ment. They recoil from this blood, as a merchant or 
a farmer would from a man who comes to tell him that 
he cannot pay a debt. These organs say to the blood 
we have duties to perform, we have obligations to the 
human body which we must fulfill, else health will suffer; 
we are scavengers ; we have contracted to remove from 
the body certain elements of its waste; we are obliged 
to purify it. It is your bounden duty to constantly 
supply us with good nourishment, in order that we may 
fulfill our obligations to the rest of the body. Yes, says 
the blood, apologetically, I know that, but I cannot help 
it. I was dispatched from the central office, from the 
stomach, with poor material; it failed to fully meet its 
obligation to me. I called on the liver, and owing to 
the stomach’s deficiency, it was unable to meet its con- 
tracts, so I am forced to come to you loaded down with 
the deficiencies of two delinquents. 
Well, answer the kidneys, if you cannot do your full 
duty to us, if you can only meet a portion of your 
obligation, we cannot do our full duty, since we are 
dependent on you for the necessary nourishment and 
power. It will be impossible for us to remove our full 
share of dead tissue from the blood, since we do not 
possess the necessary vigor, which we can receive only 
from pure, sound blood. 
Therefore, you must continue to contain some of the 
load of debt, of dead tissue, that under ordinary con- 
ditions we would remove from you, and adding it to that 
already left in you by the partial failure of duty of the 
liver, carry it on, to still further hamper the other organs 
you may meet in your course. 
The poor, overburdened blood now visits the heart, PURITY OF BLOOD ESSENTIAL. 
61 
the central organ of the circulation, the ever-acting 
pump, that is day and night sending the elements of 
life into the most remote corners of the human body. 
Just here, by way of digression, I must say, that while 
repeating what I have already stated, that all parts of 
the body are inter-dependent, that life could not be with- 
out all of them, still, there are two prime elements in the 
phenomena of life, the blood and nervous system. 
The first furnishes nourishment, the necessary condi- 
tions for the maintenance of life, while the nervous 
system originates and transmits the vital spark by 
which the elements furnished by the blood are rendered 
potent. The blood might be roughly compared to 
ordinary illuminating gas flowing through a pipe; it 
might be for years forced through this pipe without 
giving any light; but when you apply the match to this 
escaping gas, you at once have a brilliant illumination. 
So, the nervous system furnishes and transmits the 
spark that enables the heart to pump the blood through 
the body, and that renders the blood potent to maintain 
life in all the organs when it reaches them. But, in 
order that the heart may continue its pumping, it re- 
quires to have a sufficiency of good nourishment, which 
it must derive from the blood. There are small blood 
vessels in the walls of the heart, into which blood is 
pumped by the heart itself, and from which the organ 
derives its power to pump. Therefore, it is necessary, 
in an especial manner, that this important organ should 
receive good nourishment. 
To go back: this impure blood reaches the heart. 
Here it receives new reproaches for not meeting its 
obligations. The same story is told over again; the 62 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
blame is laid at the doors of the stomach, liver and 
kidneys. How can you expect me, says the blood, 
to pay the debt I owe you, when so many other 
creditors have failed to meet their obligations to me. 
True enough, replies the heart, but how can I fulfill 
the duties I owe to my creditors if you fail to bring me 
the necessary nourishment or vigor. How can I pump 
the requisite blood into the brain when I am weak and 
exhausted, for the want of proper nourishment. 
Now, in turn, the heart sends blood to the brain and 
nervous system, but it sends an inferior quality; it does 
not fully meet its obligations in this quarter. The 
brain cries out, “ How can I originate and issue my 
commands to the various organs of the body, when I 
am weak and languid for the want of food. How can 
I do my duty when I am so interfered with. I am like 
the General of an army; from my headquarters I tele- 
graph through the human wires, the nerves, to the 
various organs, what they must do in order to carry on 
a successful campaign against disease; but if the com- 
missary fails to supply this general with good nourish- 
ment, how can he do his duty. He will become weak 
and languid, while his mental activity will be diminished, 
for want of good food on which to subsist.” 
But, answers back the heart, “ I am doing the best I 
can; the stomach, liver and kidneys have failed to per- 
form their duty, they have sent me impure material” 
(like the contract supplies to the army during the war), 
and I have no better to send you. I know it is wrong, 
but I cannot help it. I know you cannot fully exercise 
your abilities on such poor nourishment, but I cannot 
send you any better until my subordinates properly INTELLIGENT KNOWLEDGE NEEDED. 
63 
perform their duty. I would suggest that the stomach 
is primarily to blame, and since that organ is especially 
under the control and management of an officer called 
Himan Intelligence, I would suggest that he be severely 
reprimanded, since he must be guilty either of careless- 
ness or criminal neglect in his management of that 
organ.” “ Very good,” says the brain, “your sugges- 
tion is a valuable one, Mr. Heart, and I shall admonish 
officer Intelligence of his dereliction.” 
Accordingly, a severe stomach ache, an inflammation 
of the stomach or its continuation, the bowels, or some 
other bad feeling, is produced, as a warning to Human 
Intelligence that it is not properly performing its duty; 
that by maltreating some organ, it is interfering with 
the proper performance of duty of all organs, and is 
thereby shortening life. 
When receiving this reprimand, Intelligence protests 
against the injustice of the order, saying, “It is not fair 
to blame me for not treating my organs properly, since 
I have never been taught my duties in this respect. 
What knowledge I have has been transmitted to me 
from my parents, who received it from theirs in turn, 
and that is all I know. I do not belong to the favored 
class of physicians, who have made the care of the 
human body an especial study, and I know not how to 
care for it; I do the b,est I can, with my limited know- 
ledge, and if I knew more, I would, no doubt, do better.” 
This is a valid objection, and it has been my purpose, 
in preparing this volume, to furnish to human intelli- 
gence that knowledge in which it is deficient, and which 
is so essential to it, in order that it may so direct and 
regulate its various organs as to conduce to old age, 64 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
by furnishing them with good nourishment, and getting 
out of them the greatest amount of work of which they 
are capable. 
This is a homely illustration, but by its very familiarity 
and simplicity, I feel sure it will convey to non-profes- 
sional readers the point I am desirous of impressing 
upon them—the fact that every part or organ of the 
body is dependent for the integrity of its action upon 
the integrity of every other organ or part. It is true, 
that life has been sustained, in exceptional instances, 
when some organ has been incapacitated; thus there 
are cases on record where one kidney has become 
utterly useless, and life has been sustained for some 
time with the aid of only one kidney. Or the liver, or 
stomach, or heart, has been seriously disordered, yet 
life has been maintained for some time. But while 
these are exceptional cases, they only tend to prove 
how strong is the claim of human nature upon life and 
of life upon human nature, and are strong arguments 
in favor of the doctrine enunciated in this work, that 
“ It is never too late to mend.” These cases do not, 
however, argue the independence of one organ from 
another, but only constitute the exceptions to the rule, 
that all organs are dependent one upon another. While 
it is the rule that, in order to enjoy very great longevity, 
every organ and part must act thoroughly, yet it is 
very comforting to know (and we do know, and you 
can feel sure of it), that if any one of you happen to be 
the unfortunate possessor of any weak organ or part, 
if you discover this defect, you can by strict attention 
to hygienic laws and to the advice of your physician, so 
conserve the vital power of this part as to make it last EARLY WATCHFULNESS. 
65 
very much longer than it would do did you lead a reck- 
less life, placing upon this weak organ more strain than 
it can bear. 
I wish again, here, to say, that this volume is not 
intended to take the place of the physician; it would be 
an impossibility for any volume to do so. You can 
make up your minds that any book that claims to sub- 
stitute the physician is worse than useless to you. 
Because there are so many points to be considered in 
the treatment of diseased conditions, there are so many 
collateral circumstances to be taken into consideration, 
so many new points are constantly being developed, 
that it would be impossible for any man who did not 
devote himself and his life continually to the study of 
the science of medicine and to keeping pace with its 
progress, to be capable of treating disease. Therefore, 
when a person is out of health it is necessary for him 
or her to consult a physician ; but there are certain 
well known principles that will conduce to keep human 
beings in a state of health, and it is these principles that 
this book will teach you. It will tell you how to pre- 
serve health when you have it, and how to live so that 
you may attain long life. 
What I have said for some pages back may seem, 
until explained, inappropriate to a chapter on the “care 
of infants.” But a few words of explanation will 
demonstrate that this was the most appropriate portion 
of this work in which to introduce these remarks. 
Since, as you now know, the young infant is very 
pliable, is very capable of being moulded into good or 
bad form, so you can understand that this knowledge of 
the effects that may result in after life from ignorance 66 
IIOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
of the functions of the body becomes a matter of para- 
mount importance in the management of the infant. 
. You know the old saying, As the twig is bent, so 
the tree will grow; this is very applicable to children. 
At the risk of being considered tedious, I am going into 
this question somewhat at length, for I assure you that 
a very large proportion of the ill health of after life, 
ordinarily attributed to various other causes, is in 
reality directly due to the improper management of 
young children. 
A baby might, for the sake of familiar illustration, be 
compared to a plot of virgin soil. If an intelligent 
farmer, who thoroughly understands his business, goes 
to work, he can make this ground produce almost any 
crop he may desire. The soil is rich in possibilities, 
and only requires careful nurture to develop them. But 
the farmer must select good seed, he must prepare his 
ground to receive the seed, must plant in the proper sea- 
son, must watch carefully and continually cultivate the 
growing plants. He must be on the lookout for any 
diseases or any animals that may destroy their vigor, 
and take prompt measures to get rid of them. If all 
these precautions are observed, in due time he reaps a 
bountiful harvest of strong, vigorous vegetables or fruit, 
bearing no taint or blemish, and thoroughly capable of 
fulfilling their mission in the world, of giving nourish- 
ment to human beings. 
So the infant is like virgin soil; it is a mass of human- 
ity, placed in the world in a perfectly dependent and 
irresponsible condition, capable of being moulded, as a 
piece of putty, and undoubtedly subject to the influence 
of surroundings. If you will devote as much intelligent ILLUSTRATION OF IGNORANCE. 
67 
care to the management of your children as is requisite 
and is bestowed uppn the soil, you can be sure that 
they will grow into strong and useful men and women. 
The old proverb, “That it is as hard for a rich man 
to enter heaven as for a camel to pass through the eye 
of a needle,” is but another way of saying that tempta- 
tion surrounds us on every side. We must, perforce, 
believe that the Almighty has in store for the just most 
wonderful happiness, since he has made it so very diffi- 
cult to attain. The reward must be proportionate to 
the labor. When I say that temptation surrounds us, 
I do not speak alone from a moral standpoint; I in- 
clude physical temptations. It is a singular but never- 
theless an eminently true fact, that man, even the most 
intelligent among us, when left to his own unguided 
instinct in matters of living, is apt, in the majority of 
instances, to go wrong and do that which is injurious 
to his physical welfare. While, when we descend to 
the illiterate classes, this tendency is truly astounding. 
I once attended a case of Bright’s disease in a young 
man. There was suppression of urine, by which the 
poisonous ingredients of the urine were retained in the 
system, and the boy was dangerously ill from this poi- 
soning of his blood. I gave strong medicine, to make 
the kidneys act and remove this poison. My medicines 
acted as I had expected, yet the poisonous symptoms 
grew worse. I was at a loss to account for this un- 
usual condition, until I discovered that the boy’s moth- 
er had been for several days surreptitiously giving him 
his own urine to drink, under the superstitious belief 
that this liquid possessed the power to increase the 
action of the kidneys. 68 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
Who ever heard of a dog or a horse who would eat 
or drink its own excrement? Yet this woman’s intelli- 
gence was a less accurate guide in matters of health, 
than the unaided instinct of the brute. 
This case, which is one out of many that I could give, 
tends to show the truth of what I say, that the natural 
intelligence of man, when unguided, will usually lead 
him to do the very things that he ought not to do. 
A celebrated physician once said that we ought to be 
ashamed to be sick, and then went on to show that the 
majority of cases of illness were directly traceable to 
some infraction of the laws of health, and were avoid- 
able. More than one hundred thousand persons die 
annually in the United States from diseases that are' 
preventable, and I do not fear contradiction, when I 
make the seemingly astounding statement, that not one 
single person ought to die of disease. A few words of 
explanation will here be necessary. We are suffi- 
ciently familiar with the nature of all acute diseases to 
know broadly that they all arise as a consequence of 
neglect of hygiene. We all know that if the laws of 
hygiene were universally perfectly carried out, such 
diseases as smallpox, cholera, yellow fever, diph- 
theria, typhoid fever, scarlet fever, measles, whoop- 
ing cough and the like, would never be heard of. 
This is an admitted fact by the universal medical pro- 
fession, and needs no argument. Many persons die 
from these diseases. Then we have chronic diseases. 
They affect the heart, lungs, kidneys, liver, stomach, 
etc.; in the majority of instances these diseases are 
preventable, and are due to neglect on the part of the 
sufferer. One illustradon will suffice. The majority HEREDITY. 
69 
of cases of chronic disease of the liver are due either 
to improper and excessive eating, or to inordinate in- 
dulgence in alcoholic drinks. This brings us to hered- 
itary diseases. 
I desire here to enunciate the doctrine that all 
chronic diseases are hereditary in the general accepta- 
tion of the term. That is to say, all chronic diseases 
are capable of transmission from parents to their off- 
spring. The general tendency of the day is to believe 
that only certain diseases, such as consumption, scrof- 
ula and the like, are hereditary, but I believe it to be a 
fact, as the result of research, thought and experience, 
that all chronic diseases can be inherited. I do not say 
that.they always are, but that they can be. A child gen- 
erally inherits the peculiarities of personal appearance 
and of disposition possessed by its parents ; why, then, 
should it not derive at least a tendency to disease of 
any organ that may be diseased in the parents ? 
The material from which the child is formed is de- 
rived from the blood ; the blood circulates throughout 
the entire body; it receives some of its component parts 
from every organ in the body, and from it (the blood) 
certain organs extract a liquid, which when it unites 
with another liquid in the female, results in the devel- 
opment of a human being. 
Does it seem unreasonable, therefore, to suppose 
that when the blood circulates through a diseased liver 
or heart in the parent, it may receive some of the 
elements of disease of the organ, which, removed from 
it into the constructive fluid, may, in the child developed 
from this fluid, predispose to disease of the organ that 
has been constructed from the elements furnished by 70 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
blood that has passed through, and has been to a cer- 
tain extent influenced by, a diseased organ in the 
parent? 
It is true that this doctrine has not yet been estab- 
lished, but it is worthy of more extensive research, and 
a belief in it can be productive of no harm and will be 
beneficial in the following manner: Suppose a parent 
(either father or mother) is aware that some organ in 
his or her body is diseased at the time that the ele- 
ments from which their child has been formed are 
extracted from their blood. Then does it become an 
imperative duty that they shall in an especial manner 
guard and protect this particular organ in their off- 
spring. Suppose a father has Bright’s disease; then 
must he carefully guard his children’s kidneys ; suppose 
a mother has heart disease; then must she zealously 
look after the care of her children’s hearts. 
So that, taking it for granted that all chronic diseases 
can be inherited, we have, to summarize, these three 
conditions under which death may occur from disease: 
i st. Acute diseases, in all cases preventable by proper 
precautions ; 2d. Chronic diseases, due either to excess 
or neglect on the part of the individual; or, 3d. In- 
herited from parents. Hereditary diseases must have 
had a beginning; they must have originated in some 
ancestor; therefore they were due to some fault of his, 
and were preventable. 
It is a well known fact that if a child does inherit a 
tendency to any disease of any organ or part from its 
parents, this tendency can be held in abeyance, if 
not entirely eradicated, by proper precautionary meas- 
ures. If the tendency to disease cannot be entirely DISEASE ARTIFICIAL. 
71 
stamped out, the period of its development can be 
indefinitely postponed. 
Therefore, by carefully guarding any particular or- 
gan or part that may be born weak, its integrity may 
be preserved, and the weakness which it inherited may 
be transmitted to its offspring with less intensity, and so 
on through successive generations, until it finally be- 
comes extinct. Thus could the hereditary tendency to 
disease be guarded against and rendered impotent, 
until, ultimately, the original perfectly healthy state of 
man could be brought about. So, therefore, no matter 
how we view it, the fact stares us in the face, that dis- 
ease is our own fault, and that no man ought to die of 
disease. 
How, then, should he die? As a result of old age. 
As I have already said, a certain amount of vital force 
is born in every human being. In some a greater 
amount, of course, than in others. When this force is 
nearly used up a man is old, whether he has scored 
forty or eighty years of life ; and when he dies, his 
existence is terminated because this force has become 
exhausted. Now no man ought to die from artificial 
or premature exhaustion of this force, as such an enor- 
mously large proportion do. All disease, as I have 
demonstrated, is artificial; it ought not to be, and, 
therefore, is not natural. 
Disease, whether acute or chronic—that is to say, 
comprehensively, diseases of all kinds—has a tendency 
to unduly exhaust this vital force, and to produce pre- 
mature death. If this force were only expended to 
produce the functions of an ordinarily healthy and 
rational life, the large majority of men would live 72 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
much longer than they do; but, being taxed to an inor- 
ordinate degree, by the fretting exactions of some 
diseased part, it is consumed unnecessarily soon. 
This vital power might be compared to human 
forbearance. If your surroundings are pleasant and 
agreeable, if your neighbors and your children all act 
as they should, then does your temperament remain 
even and equable. But, let your friends or your 
children run counter to your inclinations, let them an- 
noy and worry you, how soon does your forbearance 
and your patience become exhausted, and you become 
ill-tempered and irritable. So, if your various organs 
and parts make demand upon your vital force only for 
so much as is proper and requisite to enable them to 
do their duty properly, then will this force hold out to 
its utmost limit; but if unfair demands are made upon 
it by some diseased organ that cannot do its work 
without the aid of an excessive supply of power, then 
will this vital force lose all forbearance, so to speak; 
then will this inordinate demand prematurely exhaust it. 
Acute diseases act in the same way. The different 
fevers cause death by burning up this vital force. One 
of the main indications in the treatment of the various 
diseases that are accompanied by excessive fever, is to 
keep this fever in check, to reduce the temperature, 
because the physician realizes that this excessive heat 
is destroying the vital force that is so necessary in 
restoring the sick man to health. 
Therefore, we realize that all life is dependent upon 
the presence of this invisible, imponderable, and mys- 
terious vital force. We recognize that while this force 
lasts, so will life, and when it fails death ensues. CARE OF INFANTS. 
73 
Realizing this, we are prepared to understand that 
the mode of life that is conducive to long life is such as 
will make the least demands upon our vital force. 
Since, as you now know, the delicate system of the 
infant is very impressionable, since you know that it 
can be influenced for good or bad, and so profoundly 
as to carry the results of these impressions throughout 
all its after life; and since any weakness that it may 
inherit from its parents can be held in check or even 
eradicated by proper care, therefore, you can under- 
stand how appropriate have been these remarks in this 
place, and how imperative it is that young babies should 
be properly handled. 
Very few women realize, when they voluntarily place 
themselves in the position of probable maternity, by 
marriage, what important duties they are likely to be 
called upon to assume. When these duties come upon 
them they are loth to devote themselves to them, since, 
by so doing, they interfere, as they suppose, with their 
own individual comfort and pleasure. 
For the proper management of their children, mothers 
must make many sacrifices of immediate comfort, and 
must truly become almost slaves to their babies; but in 
after life they will be more than repaid for all this, by 
the satisfaction and gratification of a family of strong, 
healthy, active, and devoted children. 
Having demonstrated why care of the infant is so 
necessary, it will now be in order to give you some 
directions for this care. 
We will first consider an infant born to parents who 
are perfectly healthy; one whom you have no reason to 
suspect has, or ought to have, any weak organ or part. 74 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
The general remarks on nursing, in the first part of 
this chapter, are applicable to all children, whether born 
healthy or not. 
For the first two weeks, the baby and yourself will 
be under the doctor’s care, so that this book has nothing 
to do with that period; subsequently, if your experi- 
enced mother is about, you are fortunate; if not, I will 
take her place and tell you what to do. 
It is well to commence, from the earliest moment, a 
system of so-called hardening, with healthy children. 
The degree to which this is carried must depend on 
circumstances. If, as is unfortunately the case with 
many women in this country, the mother has been sur- 
rounded during pregnancy with all the enervating in- 
fluences known to man, such as excessively hot rooms, 
bad air, want of exercise, and the like, then will the 
child (though, maybe, not inheriting any diseased organ) 
be so enervated and functionally weak, that the process 
of hardening must be very gradual and be very care- 
fully carried out. But if the parent has, throughout 
pregnancy, observed all proper precautions, and yet 
lived in accordance with nature, if she has braved all 
kinds of weather, then may the hardening process be 
more actively carried out. 
What do I mean by this hardening? You all know 
how sensitive a hot-house plant is to the slightest 
changes of weather. The fall of a few degrees of tem- 
perature, or the change of a slight addition to or detrac- 
tion from the requisite amount of moisture, may prove 
fatal to it. By hardening, I mean a condition just the 
reverse of this. Since, in the every-day pursuits of 
after life, your child will necessarily be subjected to HARDENING. 
75 
various atmospheric conditions, the changes in which 
it will be absolutely impossible for him or her to always 
avoid, it becomes imperative that you must, in the be- 
ginning, inure him to these changes, at such a time as 
his system is capable of being moulded ; and when this 
process can be best carried out. 
In order to do this, you must allow your child to be 
taken into the open air on all occasions. Avoid only the 
most inclement days. Cold weather will not hurt him, 
if he is warmly dressed. Dress him so that he may 
not be subjected to the action of the cold on the surface 
of his body, and then send him out. Do not keep baby 
shut up in hot, foul rooms. By so doing, you will 
render him particularly susceptible to the slightest ex- 
posure to cold air or draughts. If possible, you ought 
to have your baby in the open air all day long. I am 
sure we would all enjoy better health, if houses were 
unknown, and we lived in tents or in the open air, as 
animal life in a state of nature is accustomed to do. 
I am now supposing that the baby under considera- 
tion is a healthy baby with a healthy mother, who has 
an abundant supply of healthy milk. To such a one, 
I can sum up my advice in a few words. Feed your 
baby at regular intervals. Put baby to sleep at stated 
times, and make it sleep at those times. You can ac- 
complish this if you will. If baby cries and will not go 
to sleep, do not take it up and rock it. Let it alone. 
A healthy baby will never hurt itself by crying, and 
after-a-while, by persevering in this course, it will get 
accustomed to its regular sleeping hours, and will 
willingly be quietly laid to rest and go to sleep at the 
appointed time. We are all creatures of habit, and 76 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
you can engraft on the baby good or bad habits, as you 
may see fit. Do not have the room in which baby 
sleeps too hot; keep a thermometer in it, and so regu- 
late the temperature that it shall not exceed 70° Fah. 
If possible, so arrange that baby shall be in the open 
air all the time, when not sleeping or nursing. If you 
live in the country, during the summer months, baby 
can be in the pure air all daylong. Suppose you hap- 
pen to be a farmer’s wife; you can so arrange a baby 
coach, or a lounge, or settee, that baby will be constant- 
ly under your eye, near a window of the room in which 
you may be doing your work. You can then, at the 
regular intervals, nurse the baby, put it back in its 
coach or on the settee, go on with your work, and let 
your child be constantly inhaling pure air. 
To sum up, then, all that a healthy baby requires, in 
order that it may grow into a healthy man or woman, 
are good food, good air, good sleep. The two first are 
the most important conditions, because if a baby has 
good food and pure air, good sleep will follow as a 
necessary consequence. 
The case is far different with the baby who is born 
with some hereditary weakness. Here especial care is 
necessary in order that this particular defect may be 
overcome. It is a fact that very few such babies are 
born in the country. They are, in the very large ma- 
jority of cases, the results of the deleterious influences 
of city life, and are to be greatly pitied, inasmuch as 
they are the unconscious sacrificial offerings on the 
altar of artificial life. 
My statistics, in the end of this volume, will demon- 
strate that the majority of aged men now living in the SECURE PURE AIR. 
77 
United States were born and reared in the country. 
They may have and many did remove to cities when 
nearing or having reached manhood, but their physical 
foundations were laid in the pure country. From this 
fact we can draw a very valuable lesson. If your baby, 
to your knowledge, inherits from either parent a pre- 
disposition to any weakness, you should, if possible, 
remove to and live in the country until your child has 
reached maturity or has surely thrown off this heredi- 
tary predisposition. It would be useless to dilate on 
(because common sense will make apparent to you) the 
fact that all the conditions of country life will insure to 
your baby a larger supply of pure air than the best city 
surroundings could furnish, and that, therefore, a resi- 
dence in the country will in a great degree enable the 
delicate baby to throw off this weakness and to become 
a vigorous man or woman. This is a proposition that 
no intelligent physician will deny. God made the 
country, you must ever remember, while the city is the 
artificial work of man. God’s handiwork is always 
better than that of man. There can be no question 
whatever as to the advisability of raising children in 
the country; all of you admit this when you rush off to 
the seaside or the country in the hot days of summer; 
but it would be infinitely to your baby’s advantage to 
live permanently, the year round, in the country. In 
these days of rapid transit the distance from business is 
not a valid excuse. I have known many laboring men, 
doing work in Philadelphia, to live in the surrounding 
country, six or seven miles out. The steam cars, for a 
few cents and in fifteen minutes, land them into the 
very heart of the city. 78 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
It would be a grand step forward in the march of 
sanitary progress, and would conduce greatly to healthy 
long life, if human beings could be induced to abandon 
cities as places of residence. It will ever be necessary, of 
course, that men shall congregate together for the pur- 
poses of business; hence large cities must exist. But 
it would be a grand thing if all men would live in the 
country and come daily to the city, transact their busi- 
ness, and return to the country at night. 
There are so many sources of air contamination to 
be found in large cities, that to one who considers the 
subject from a rational and intelligent standpoint, it 
would seem that it must be very exceptional to have 
babies grow into strong adults, when their whole lives 
have been passed in the city. By living in the 
country, as I suggest, your family will have the great 
advantage of using pure air all the time, while you 
yourself will be enabled to pass more than half your 
time in this life-prolonging atmosphere. 
The process of hardening to which I have referred 
can be much more effectually carried out in the 
country. How few persons in the city keep a horse 
and carriage; and it would be very wrong to send your 
children out to walk on the wet, sloppy days of winter. 
But in the country it is the rule for nearly all persons, 
even those in very moderate circumstances, to have a 
horse and wagon ; they are necessaries of country life. 
So that no matter how inclement the day may be, you 
can bundle yourself and your children up warmly, close 
the curtains of your wagon and go for a drive, without 
the slightest fear of subsequent wet feet and colds. 
Hygiene and the laws of health are more carefully THE BEST FOOD. 
79 
observed by Friends than by any other sect. Some of 
the doctrines of hygiene even constitute dogmas of their 
religion. With much pleasure and admiration, I have 
carefully observed them. Old age and good health are 
the rules and not the exceptions among the strict 
Friends. Did you ever see a dirty Friend ? If you have, 
you have seen a curiosity that I have yet to encounter; 
yet, though not belonging to them, I have been born 
and bred among them. But the point I desire espe- 
cially to make, is that the majority of Friends, here- 
abouts at least, live in the country. 
When a stock breeder desires to raise blooded horses, 
he most carefully selects his farm. He intelligently 
looks for all surrounding conditions that may influence 
the growth and development of his young colts into 
strong, healthy and fleet horses. 
The same amount of forethought, at least, ought to 
be expended in selecting the surrounding conditions 
that are to influence the growth and development of 
your children. So, if you desire to know how to sur- 
round your children so as to conduce to their long and 
healthy life, I will tell you. 
Live in the country; select a healthy location, give 
them all the fresh air you can, and furnish them plenty 
of good food. In the chapter on “ Our Houses and 
Grounds,” I will tell you how to choose a healthy loca- 
tion, and how to secure a healthy home. 
If possible, a baby ought not to be weaned until it is 
a year old. The very best nourishment for the first 
year of life is breast milk, and there is absolutely no 
adequate substitute for it, when it can be obtained pure 
and wholesome. The best proof of its efficiency or 80 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
deficiency, the experimentum crucis, is to be found in the 
effect that it produces on the baby. If the infant seems 
in good health and grows well, then you can rest 
assured that your milk is furnishing to it ample nour- 
ishment. But, if after carefully observing the directions 
I have already given about nursing, your baby does 
not seem vigorous, it looks pale and flabby, does not 
sleep well, and is constantly peevish and irritable, cry- 
ing, whining and fretful nearly all the time; and if you 
are giving it absolutely nothing but breast milk, then 
you can positively make up your mind that one of the 
three following conditions is the cause of the trouble, 
ist. Baby is sick. 2d. Your milk is deficient in quan- 
tity; or 3d. Your milk is of poor quality. To accurately 
determine which one of these conditions exists, and to 
decide the cause of the trouble and rectify it, will require 
the services of a physician. 
Science has accurately determined the healthy form- 
ation of human milk, and has furnished to the physician 
the necessary means to determine the standard of any 
given specimen. If, upon examination, he finds your 
baby perfectly formed and thoroughly healthy, he will 
inquire into the quantity of milk furnished from your 
breasts; if they are well developed, and there is no 
doubt that you have a copious supply, he will conclude 
that the trouble must be found in an inferior quality 
of milk. Any farmers who may read this book 
already know that the quality of milk furnished by dif- 
ferent cows will vary greatly. So it is with women. 
A woman in perfect health may, for some reason, for 
some peculiarity that we cannot penetrate, furnish an 
abundant supply of milk, but it may be lacking in some SUBSTITUTES FOR MOTHER’S MILK. 
81 
ingredient necessary to furnish proper nourishment to 
the baby. Having excluded the two first points, a 
careful physician will procure a quantity of your milk 
and will subject it to analysis, whereby he will be en- 
abled, by comparison with the normal standard, to decide 
in what particulars it may be deficient. When he has 
made this discovery, he will recommend a certain diet 
that will be calculated to supply the deficiency. If this 
fails to bring the milk up to the standard, he will then 
be compelled to recommend either, i st, artificial feed- 
ing, or 2d, the employment of a wet nurse. 
The first resort I deem preferable, for the following 
reasons: Various diseases can be conveyed to the 
child through the medium of milk from a woman who 
is not perfectly healthy. It is next to an impossibility 
for any one to say, even with the most careful exam- 
ination, that a woman is absolutely and perfectly 
healthy. It is a fact that some disease may lurk in her 
system which cannot be detected by the most careful 
examination, even an analysis of the milk failing to 
reveal any unhealthy condition of this fluid. Yet this 
diseased condition of her system may be communicated 
to the baby through her milk. Of course, in the ma- 
jority of cases, a properly conducted examination by a 
competent and intelligent physician will be capable of 
determining whether the prospective wet nurse is per- 
fectly healthy or not, but such exceptional cases as I 
have referred to do occur occasionally, and in a matter 
so important as the feeding of our children we cannot 
afford to run any risks. 
I would never employ a wet nurse with my own 
children, but would much prefer to resort to artificial 82 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
feeding, if, from any reason, the mother should be inca- 
pacitated from nursing them. Asses’ milk approaches 
more nearly woman’s milk in composition than that of 
any other animal, but since it is so difficult to procure, 
we must, in this country at least, fall back on cow’s 
milk. The following table will show the relative com- 
position of woman’s milk and cow’s milk:— 
Water 
Woman’s Milk. 
Per cent. 
88.9 
Cow’s Milk. 
Per cent. 
86.4 
Casein and Nitrogenous Compounds - 
3-92 
5-52 
Sugar - 
4-36 
3-8 
Fat 
2.66 
3.61 
Salts 
0.13 
0.66 
When preparing cow’s milk for infant food the object 
in view is, to bring its composition as nearly as possible to 
that of the woman’s. You will notice that cow’s milk 
contains more fat than human milk, therefore, the first 
step must be to let the milk stand until some of the 
cream has arisen, and to remove some of it; not all, how- 
ever ; this will reduce the quantity of fat, and bring it 
nearer to the human standard; by shaking, the re- 
maining fat will be mixed throughout the milk. You 
will notice that cow’s milk contains less sugar than wo- 
man’s ; therefore, you must add some sugar to it. If you 
are wealthy, it would be better to use sugar of milk for 
this purpose, which you can procure of any good drug- 
gist ; if not, use the purest sugar you can find. About 
one teaspoonful of sugar added to each pint of milk will 
bring it up to the proper standard. You will notice that 
the nitrogenous or flesh-forming elements are in excess 
in the cow’s milk, while the proportion of water is less 
than in human milk. In order to reduce these strong 
elements, and bring up the standard of liquid, you must 
add water. This will so dilute the nitrogenous ingre- cow’s MILK. 
83 
dients as to reduce the relative proportion which they 
hold in pure cow’s milk. At first you should use one- 
third water and two-thirds milk. As baby grows older 
you can gradually reduce the quantity of water, until, 
when six or eight months old, you may use the milk 
pure or nearly so. 
These directions are certainly very simple, and can 
be very easily carried out. Now, mark my words well, 
and take them seriously to heart; if you give baby pure 
cow’s milk at first, in the very large majority of cases, 
you will derange the stomach and interfere with nutri- 
tion. To sum up, then, in order to bring cow’s milk to 
the standard of human milk, and to thoroughly fit it to 
nourish the baby, you must go through the following 
processes:— 
1. Partially skim it. 
2. Add one-third water. 
3. Add one teaspoonful of pure sugar to each pint. 
The difference in the proportion of salts is so small 
as not to need consideration. 
If you live in the country, and have a young baby, 
you must realize that a cow is as important as a dining 
table. If you have your own cow, you know that you 
are getting pure milk, and you must be very careful 
how you feed this cow. The food of a cow from which 
you derive the nourishment for your baby should be 
as carefully selected as the food of the mother would 
be were she nursing the child. Slops and kitchen gar- 
bage should be kept far away from the manger. The 
same rules in regard to regularity and quantity of feed- 
ing will apply to the use of cow’s milk as were indica- 
ted in the remarks on natural feeding. 84 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
It will now be in order to say a few words about 
that “awful nursing bottle.” It is a necessary 
adjunct of artificial feeding, that can be made product- 
ive of very much disease, but that need 7iot excite the 
slightest uneasiness. In the first place, long rubber 
tubes must be banished, since it is utterly impossible to 
keep them thoroughly clean. In their place should be 
used a plain rubber nipple. Any kind of a bottle will 
answer; you need not go to the expense of buying any 
particular kind; use any that you have on hand. 
There is only one important rule to be formulated con- 
cerning the care of the nursing bottle, which, if faith- 
fully carried out, will render it perfectly harmless. I 
mean scrupulous cleanliness. The very large majority 
of summer diseases, of deranged stomachs, and of sore 
mouths, that occur among artificially fed babies, are the 
direct results of dirty feeding bottles. How foul a 
neglected bottle can become, I need not go into argu- 
ments to prove ; one experiment, which you can easily 
perform, will, I am sure, so convince you, that forever 
thereafter a dirty bottle will be an unknown nuisance 
about your premises. 
Take a half pint bottle and fill it with pure milk ; after 
an hour pour off the milk; you will notice that a very 
small quantity will adhere to the inside of the bottle, 
making the glass slightly cloudy ; stand it aside for two 
or three days and then smell it. If it does not knock 
you down, you will have the strongest nose and the 
poorest sense of smell of any individual I ever met. 
The smell of this rotten milk will make you sick at your 
stomach; think, then, what a bad effect its ingestion 
into the delicate system of a young infant must have. CONDENSED MILK. 
85 
In order to avoid this danger, you ought to have two 
nursing bottles. When you fill one and give it to the 
baby, put the other into a strong solution of soda, in 
pure boiling water, and let it remain there until you 
require it. Then remove it, and before filling with 
milk, rinse it out four or five times in boiling water. 
Then put the other bottle in a fresh soda solution, and 
so on, all the time. 
It is not necessary, neither do I consider it advisable, 
to heat the milk, because you may use a little too much 
heat, and coagulate the albumen, which renders it 
difficult of digestion. If you rinse the bottle, as I have 
told you to do, in boiling water, it will be warm enough 
to take the chill off the milk, and to heat it to just that 
degree that will be pleasant and acceptable to the 
baby’s stomach. 
You now have the main points, indeed, all that is 
necessary, in order that you may understand how to 
properly feed a baby with cow’s milk ; you require pure 
milk, brought up to the standard of human milk, and a 
clean bottle. 
Some persons will be unable to procure pure, fresh 
cow’s milk, for various reasons. Such may substitute 
condensed milk. I have known many fine children, 
who have been raised on this article; indeed, I have 
myself as stout, strong and healthy a little girl as you 
will see in a day’s walk, who was fed from her third 
month, all through the first year of life, exclusively on 
the “ Gail Borden, Eagle brand ” of condensed milk. 
The fresh cow’s milk is better, when it can be procured, 
but the condensed form makes a very good substitute 
when the former is unattainable. The same precau- 86 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
tions are to be observed in the use of the condensed 
as with the fresh milk. I would advise you to com- 
mence with about two teaspoonfuls of the milk to half a 
pint of hot water. Dissolve it thoroughly. If this 
mixture is too rich for the stomach (which will be evi- 
denced by vomiting) reduce the strength, or if it does 
not seem to furnish enough nourishment, increase it. 
Almost all babies and young children are costive; 
the very nature of their food tends to make them so, 
since milk is very binding. If this condition exists, it 
should be overcome, because convulsions and other dis- 
ordered conditions are very frequently produced in the 
baby by constipation; besides which a costive habit 
may be established, which, extending into after life, will 
be very difficult to overcome. Simple measures may be 
resorted to by the mother to overcome this condition, 
without fear of harm. Every day at the same hour the 
following procedures may be resorted to: Roll a piece 
of stiff writing paper into an old-fashioned lamp-lighter, 
smear the small end with soap or oil, and gently introduce 
it into the bowel for a couple of inches. Let it remain 
in position. Generally this paper will sufficiently stim- 
ulate the bowel to cause it to contract, when the lamp- 
lighter will be expelled, and will be followed by a good 
passage. If this proves insufficient, procure a small 
hard-rubber syringe and daily inject into the bowel 
about three or four tablespoonfuls of olive oil. As an 
aid to these, you may frequently, throughout the day, 
gently but firmly rub your hand many times all over 
the abdomen or belly. If these means fail, and baby 
is very costive, you had better consult your physician. 
Although I have said much to impress upon you the infants’ clothing. 
87 
necessity for care and intelligence in the management 
of babies, yet the necessary rules for their guidance can 
be expressed, when distilled into their essence, in a few 
words. From what I have already said you realize 
that the major portion of a young infant’s life is, ac- 
cording to nature, passed in eating and sleeping. These 
are the two prime and essential conditions of healthy 
growth. Therefore, a baby must sleep well and eat 
well. If it eats well, it must, perforce, sleep well, since 
there will be nothing to interfere with the natural sleep. 
So that, to boil it down to the finest point, a baby must 
eat well; it must be properly fed. You now know 
how to do this; therefore, if your baby is healthy, by 
following the advice given, your baby will sleep well, 
and will grow and develop correspondingly. If you 
follow these directions strictly, and your child does not 
seem to be in good health, seems peevish, fretful and 
irritable, does not sleep well, and appears weak and 
languid, then you can make up your mind that baby is 
sick, and it becomes your duty to consult a physician. 
There remains now only one important point in 
connection with young infants, to which to draw your 
attention—clothing—and it can be dismissed in a very 
few words. 
As you will understand when we reach the chapter 
on “ dress,” clothing of all kinds is intended to pro- 
tect the body from external cold. Its purpose is 
accomplished by retaining within the body the heat that 
is there generated. This indication is to be our guide 
in dressing the baby. I will enunciate the one rule that, 
in the baby as well as in the adult, flannel should be 
worn next the skin. After this, your own common 88 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
sense will be the guide. Remember, that if you dress 
baby too warmly, you will make it like the hot-house 
plant, liable to take cold on the least exposure. While 
it would be better to strike the happy medium, yet it 
will be wiser to dress the baby too thinly rather than 
too warmly, since, by erring on this side, the hardening 
process to which I have referred will be facilitated, while 
the danger of making it a hot-house plant will be avoid- 
ed. The object to be attained in dressing, even on the 
coldest days, is to protect the delicate surface of the 
skin from the power which the cold air has to extract the 
heat from the body. But you must be very careful not 
to dress baby for out-doors, and then let it wait, all 
muffled up, for ten or fifteen minutes, while you dress 
yourself. If you do, it will feel the cold when it goes 
out nearly as much as though you had failed to put on 
any extra clothing. 
Therefore, do not put on baby’s extra wraps until 
you are just ready to send it out, and be particular to 
remove them the very moment it reenters the house. 
You must be particularly careful not to allow soiled 
clothing or wet and dirty diapers to remain about the 
room in which you keep your baby, because all refuse 
matter, whether it be the water or urine, the contents 
of the bowels, the dead skin or any other human ex- 
crement, is organic; it undergoes decomposition, and 
in every instance the decomposition of dead organic 
matter is attended with the formation of elements 
injurious to health; therefore, if the dead, cast-off or 
injurious matter, of any kind whatever, from the human 
body is allowed to remain in the room, it will poison 
the atmosphere that the baby breathes. It is, then, of CONVULSIONS. 
89 
the utmost importance that all passages from the bowels, 
as well as all soiled diapers, even though they be only 
wet, shall be immediately removed from the room. 
The bad practice of hanging a wet diaper before the 
heater to dry, and re-applying it to the poor little, 
innocent, helpless baby, cannot possibly be too 
strongly condemned, and I will tell you why. The 
liquid that has soiled the diaper is a watery solution 
of some of the dead, poisonous and injurious 
elements that have been removed from the baby’s 
body; ingredients that would have fatally poisoned the 
body, if allowed to remain therein. When you hang 
this wet diaper over the back of a chair before the 
heater, see what happens: The heat causes evapora- 
tion of the water, and with it some of the solid ingredi- 
ents, which, floating in the atmosphere, are inhaled and 
breathed into the lungs, and thus in a poisonous con- 
dition reenter the body from which, but a few minutes 
before, they have been discarded as unfit to remain. 
When dry, the diaper is oftentimes re-applied to the 
delicate skin of the baby. It is thoroughly impreg- 
nated with these poisonous ingredients; is it any wonder, 
then, that so many babies are sore or excoriated about 
their fundaments, when these irritating diapers are 
constantly applied and re-applied to their sensitive and 
delicate skin ? 
To avoid this, all soiled diapers should be imme- 
diately removed from the room, and thoroughly 
WASHED, AND THOROUGHLY DRIED, AND THOROUGHLY 
aired, before being re-applied. 
When teething, babies are particularly liable to have 
convulsions or spasms. If your baby is ever thus 90 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
affected, put it immediately into a hot bath, give it a 
large dose of castor oil and send for the doctor. 
If, now, you will carefully and strictly follow the 
directions given in this chapter, you can depend upon it 
your baby will prosper ; it will grow and develop as 
nature intends that it shall; and without any trouble to 
you, it will gradually and insensibly pass into the little 
girl or boy, the care and management of which I shall 
briefly outline in the next chapter. PHYSICAL DEVELOPMENT. 
91 
CHAPTER III. 
HOW TO CARE FOR CHILDREN AT HOME. 
There are certain general principles or lundamental 
doctrines that apply equally to the infant, the little child, 
the youth, the adult and the old man. The necessity 
for regularity in everything, for good food, air and 
water, sleep and exercise, are fundamental principles 
applicable to all stages of human life. But in addition 
to these, there are certain specific rules necessary for 
the various ages. 
If it is well for a baby to be taken to and live in the 
country, it is equally as essential for the little child. 
Here it can romp and play, from morning until night, in 
the pure invigorating air; its little lungs and body will 
be constantly filled with the purest elements, while its 
good appetite, digestion and sleep, with its rosy cheeks 
and general appearance of robust health, will amply 
testify to the truth of my statements and to your wis- 
dom, if you select a country home for your children. 
You must ever keep in your mind the fact that your 
children are not only growing on the outside—that is, 
their growth is not confined to their legs and arms, 
and the visible parts of their bodies—but that all their 
internal organs are growing and enlarging as well ; 
therefore, they must have plenty of room, else, logically, 
their free development will be interfered with. You all 
would justly condemn the custom prevalent among the 
Chinese, of forcibly interfering with the growth of their 92 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
children’s feet, by tightly bandaging them, so that they 
cannot possibly develop. Since this process is very 
painful to the little innocents, you would not think of 
resorting to it, although it results in increasing the 
personal beauty of the man or woman by securing to 
them small feet. When you interfere with the free 
growth and development of the internal organs, it is 
true that you do not cause your child to suffer any 
very great pain for the time being, but you do produce 
worse results. 
A light load can be pulled by a light horse, while a 
heavy load will require the additional efforts of a heavy, 
strong horse. The refuse matter of a small city can be 
removed in a few small carts, while that of a metropolis 
will require many large ones. So the necessary vital 
functions of a little baby can be performed by small 
organs, but as the baby becomes a little child, the child 
a youth and the youth an adult, it is but reasonable, and 
you will readily believe, that the demand upon these 
organs will become greater, in proportion to the 
increase of the bulk of the body at large, and that in 
order to meet this demand, the organs themselves must 
increase in size, in proportion to the growth of the body. 
The liver, heart and kidneys of a man must be larger 
than the same organs in a baby; this you all are ready 
to concede. Now, let me tell the farmer that if he 
were to take a young calf to the blacksmith and have 
made an iron mould to fit one of its legs, which he 
kept constantly in position on this leg, in time the calf 
would become a full grown cow, but this particular leg, 
the growth of which had been forcibly retarded by the 
iron case, would forever remain the diminutive leg of PHYSICAL DEVELOPMENT. 
93 
the calf. The cow would be thoroughly developed in 
every other particular, but it would have one very 
small leg. After the full development of the animal 
had taken place, he might remove the iron case, but 
the leg would get no larger, since the period during 
which growth occurs has passed by, and the time has 
come when the processes of growth and decay having 
become equal, no part can increase in size. The same re- 
sult would be produced by the same means in the human 
being. But when this forcible restraint is placed upon 
the growth only of a limb, it need not necessarily inter- 
fere with the general health of the animal to any serious 
degree, since these limbs or external parts are but 
portions of the machine about which I have already 
told you, whose duty it is only to make visible the 
power generated by the intimate portions of the machine, 
and to so utilize this power as to make it potent in the 
consummation of the phenomena of human individual 
and collective life. But they do not have any import- 
ant participation in the production or originating of 
this force. 
But if the same method of forcible retardation of 
development of the internal or vital organs should be 
allowed, the results would be far different. 
This unnaturally diminutive liver or heart, lungs or 
stomach, would be unable to do their full duty in produc- 
tion of the necessary conditions to sustain the inherited 
vital force or power, and, as a logical sequence, it would 
become prematurely exhausted. 
The skull has been made by nature for no other 
purpose than to protect the brain within it from exter- 
nal injury; the ribs are likewise intended as a protec- 94 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
tion to the heart and lungs. Were it not for these hard, 
bony coverings, the vital organs inside of them would 
be so exposed that it would be almost impossible to 
preserve them from fatal injury or to have living beings 
at all. If you had no skull, every time you put on your 
hat or laid down, even with your head on a soft pillow, 
your brain would be subjected to a certain amount of 
compression. If you had no ribs to protect your heart, 
every time you jostled against a man on the street you 
would be liable to rupture this vital organ, while with- 
out this same protection your lungs would be so com- 
pressed every time you laid down that no air could 
possibly enter them. In a word, the bony coverings of 
all your vital organs are intended by nature as a protec- 
tion to all these organs. They grow in proportion to 
the general growth of the body, and thus allow the 
organs within them to enlarge; and this teaches us the 
valuable lesson, that compression of any vital organ is 
inimical to health and long life. 
Thus, then, you understand that it will be injurious 
in after life, if you interfere in any way with the free 
growth and development of any vital organ. 
There is one way in which the organs of nearly all 
children are hampered in their growth, namely, by 
improper dressing. There ought to be nothing tight 
about the body ; every article of clothing should be so 
loose that you could easily insert your fingers between 
it and the body. Let this be your rule, and compression 
of the vital organs will never occur. 
When making a suit for your little boy or girl, after 
you have taken his measure, have the clothing made a 
size larger than the measure calls for; then you will be PHYSICAL DEVELOPMENT. 
95 
on the safe side. All clothing should be suspended 
from the shoulders, instead of being made to constrict 
the waist, and thus be prevented from falling down. 
Too much stress cannot be laid on this point, since it 
is absolutely necessary that the vital organs should 
have plenty of room to expand and grow. 
Young children, like little kittens, must play, play,1 
play. For heaven’s sake, do not commence to cram 
their little heads with learning as soon as they are able 
to walk. 
You must realize, once for all, that every act per- 
formed by an animal, as a result of its performance, 
uses up some of the vital power. The principal duty 
of a child’s life is to grow and develop. The perform- 
ance of this duty makes great demand upon this vital 
force, and it ought not to be diverted to any other pur- 
pose. If you attempt to develop the mind at the same 
time that nature is developing the body, you are mak- 
ing, as you can clearly understand, an unnatural de- 
mand upon the stock of vital power, and it will prema- 
turely exhaust it. As a proof of this statement, you 
must remember that in the majority of instances re- 
markably precocious children die young, showing that 
the mental portion of their organization has developed 
at the expense of the physical; while among men who 
have attained great prominence in learned pursuits, and 
have lived to great age, we find that the largest num- 
ber of them failed to evidence any remarkable intellec- 
tual development until long after youth had passed, and 
tney were well advanced into the stage of maturity. 
It seems only natural that this should be so, and a 
belief in it ought to be engendered by common sense. 96 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
I will illustrate this point familiarly. The physical 
development of the child might be compared to the 
building of a house, while its intellectual training may 
be likened to the ornamentation of the same. When 
a wise and careful builder desires to erect a substan- 
tial and lasting edifice, he goes about his work with 
judgment. He does not attempt to do all at once, but 
completes his work by degrees. He first carefully lays 
his foundation, upon which he erects the superstruct- 
ure, and when the building is finished he plasters it all 
inside and waits. For what? Until his work has set- 
tled and become established, as it were. When the 
plaster has thoroughly dried, he commences the work 
of ornamentation. Frescoe painters and other artists 
are put to work, and the result is that in time he has a 
handsome and substantial house that will remain so for 
a long while. But were he to hurry it up, were he to 
complete it all at once, to put decorators on plaster 
scarcely dry, in a short time the plaster would crack, 
the paint would peel, his building would settle, and in 
a few years, what ought to have been a handsome 
house will be but a tumble-down and dilapidated 
structure. 
So with the child. If you are careful to first secure 
a sound physical foundation, you can then, with confi- 
dence, erect upon it a superstructure of intellectual 
development that will be a pleasure and a comfort to 
your child, yourself and the world, and will be lasting; 
while if you attempt to do both at the same time, to 
develop the physical and mental being, you will surely 
make an abortion of both. 
You may, it is true, like the contract builder, produce PHYSICAL DEVELOPMENT. 
97 
a meteoric child; one that will for a brief space startle 
your neighbors by its wonderful precociousness, that 
will truly seem a marvel of brightness, intelligence and 
acquisitions, but in a very short time such a forced 
child will collapse like a balloon, and will become a 
physical wreck shortly after he reaches manhood, or 
even before. 
You all know that it is possible to force a plant into 
bloom, but you also know that such plants are weakly 
and their lives short. Intellectual development might 
be compared to the fruit of such a plant; it can, by 
artificial management, be produced unnaturally soon, 
but the child from which such unwilling results are un- 
naturally forced will be robbed of its strength, and 
will perish prematurely. 
It is also a fact that the greatest physical develop- 
ment, and the largest number of instances of long life, 
are to be found among the savages, who live strictly in 
accordance with the teachings of nature, and obey her 
instinctive mandates, since they know no other teach- 
er ; while among the haunts of civilization we note the 
very large majority of aged persons among those who 
have in their youth enjoyed but limited facilities for 
mental culture. While, on the other hand, we encoun- 
ter, among the many demoralizing results of artificial 
city life, numberless instances of puny, weak-limbed, 
pale, diminutive young men, with their heads crammed 
full of Latin and Greek, their mental development well 
advanced, and their weak, neglected bodies insured for 
an early death. 
Children brought up in cities are “in the way” 
when they reach a certain age, and to get rid of them 98 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
parents often send them to school much sooner than 
they ought to; while in the country, to get rid of them, 
to get them “out of the way,” they will send them out 
to play, to breathe pure air, to exercise their little 
bodies, and to lay a solid foundation upon which to 
rest the subsequent mental adornment. I do not mean 
to condemn education ; far from it. Upon mental cul- 
ture rests the perpetuity of our government and the 
happiness and progress of the world. But I do de- 
sire to impress upon you the necessity of endeavoring 
to arrive at the happy medium—neither to allow the 
physical development of your children at the expense 
of their mental culture, nor their intellectual training at 
the sacrifice of their bodily health. The one can oc- 
cur ; the other cannot, that is to say permanently. By 
devoting every effort to developing strength, you can 
make a kind of ox out of a man. You can make him 
a marvel of physical strength and endurance, and he 
will have about as much intelligence as, and most likely 
less instinct than, a well bred ox. But you cannot de- 
velop a masterly mind in a weak body. You may for 
a time, as I have said, produce mental phenomena of a 
most startling and wonderful character, but if you do so 
at the expense of the body, they will not be perma- 
nent, simply because the machine from which and in 
which they are generated cannot last; the body is 
weak and will die. 
Which would you prefer; a son or daughter who 
at seven was considered very smart, at twelve a prod- 
igy', at twenty-five a brilliant man, and at thirty a corpse, 
or one who throughout childhood was considered only 
an ordinary boy or girl, who cared more for play than PHYSICAL DEVELOPMENT. 
99 
for study, who disliked school and hated school books, 
who took every opportunity to play “hookeyd and wan- 
dered off into the country to fish, or swim, or skate, or 
indulge in some occupation calculated to improve his 
physical being; who at ten or twelve was almost a 
mental booby, but a physical beauty; at fifteen com- 
mencing to study; at twenty knowing less than the 
prodigy had forgotten at twelve ; at twenty-five still 
studying harder than ever; at thirty commencing to 
be known as a student and an able man, still possess- 
ing vigor and strength of body; at forty a man in his 
prime, mentally and physically, a pride to you (his 
parents) and one whose friendship would be sought by 
great men ; at fifty a distinguished savant, whose name 
is known, and whose wisdom and learning are quoted 
the world over; at sixty receiving the homage of 
mankind, becoming an invited member of learned 
societies throughout the world, and having a thor- 
oughly established and recognized position among the 
great men of the day; at seventy to be called a mag- 
nificent specimen of manhood, who has, by earnest and 
judicious labor, by his accumulated wisdom and expe- 
rience, by his well spent life, benefited his fellow crea- 
tures ; and finally, at seventy-five or eighty to quietly 
and peacefully pass away, with the whole world sound- 
ing his praises into the ears of a devoted family, with 
the universal literature of the globe holding up his life 
as an example to young men, and with his learned 
achievements left behind as eternal and indestructible 
monuments to his earnest and well lived life Say, 
which would you choose for your children ? 
Such great names as Edgar Allen Poe and Byron 100 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
are illustrations of our first proposition, while the sec- 
ond is represented by John Hunter, and will, I am sure, 
be borne out by the future career of Dr. J. Milner 
Fothergill, of London. 
Of John Hunter, his biographers charitably say, that 
in his early days he was but little inclined to study or 
serious pursuits. In truth, he was wild and wayward. 
When reaching maturity and commencing to realize 
the real purpose of man’s creation, with a developed 
body, he commenced the culture of his mind. For 
years he labored; the physical case containing his mind 
did not longer need his attention; it was fully formed 
and developed; thus he was allowed to expend all his 
efforts toward mental expansion, without hindrance 
from a body weakened by premature intellectual labor. 
The result was, that John Hunter died an old man, 
a distinguished man, one whom Professor Gross is 
pleased to style the “Father of Scientific Surgery.” 
Dr. Fothergill, in his youth was such a lad as 
Hunter; when reaching maturity, with a strong and 
vigorous body, he too commenced to realize the neces- 
sity of mental development (as all children born of 
intelligent parents will, sooner or later), and applying 
himself with a force only possible to be produced by a 
mind that resides in a vigorous body, he has already 
done work that promises surely to make his name 
famous, and to secure for him an impregnable position 
among the great men of his day. It is an admitted 
truth that the two portions of mankind, the physical 
and the psychical, or the mental and the bodily, must be 
equally developed to insure the most perfect type of 
manhood. It is equally true that the body can be PHYSICAL DEVELOPMENT. 
101 
developed and live to old age with but little develop- 
ment or training of the mind, but it is impossible for 
the intellect to have a long life unless it resides in a 
healthy body. 
From what has been already said, you can under- 
stand the reason for this; you can realize that in or- 
der to secure a long, healthy and useful life, to accom- 
plish the greatest possibilities of which your children 
are capable, you must first secure a good physical foun- 
dation and subsequently decorate it with mental orna- 
mentation. 
By pursuing this course, not only will your child de- 
velop into a physically strong man or woman, but when 
the seeds of mental culture are finally sown, they will 
grow more rapidly and much more luxuriantly, pro- 
ducing a bountiful harvest; much more so than if 
planted prematurely, since then they will be planted in 
mature soil, ready and anxious to receive them, and 
capable of thoroughly developing them. 
But how can you accomplish these indications ? 
Very easily. You must keep school books of all kinds 
away from your children until they are well advanced in 
years. I would deem it much better for the general 
interests of the human race, if no child was allowed to 
go to school before the age of ten or twelve years. Of 
course, no absolute rule can be laid down for this ques- 
tion, since some children will be as far advanced phys- 
ically at seven or eight as others will be at ten or 
twelve years of age ; but for your guidance, it will be 
safe to say that if your children are robust, and strong, 
and hearty, they might be sent to school when nine 
years of age ; but if at all delicate, their physical devel- 102 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
opment ought to predominate until they are fourteen or 
fifteen years of age. This will seem strange advice until 
you have proved its wisdom by experience, and you will 
be very loth to have your children grow so large without 
having commenced their education, particularly when 
you see them surrounded by many other children of 
their age who are far in advance of them in intel- 
lectual attainments. But, if you do follow this precept, 
you will, in the end, be much gratified to see your child 
rapidly overtake and pass the one who has commenced 
so much earlier, and when they both reach manhood, 
to have yours a strong, learned man, with bright pros- 
pects of many years of active life before him, while the 
young prodigy is a weakly individual, full of learning, 
(though not more so than your own), but evidently 
doomed to an early death. 
There comes a time in the life of every individual, 
known as the “period of puberty!' This marks the 
passage of the individual from the days of childhood 
into those of youth. It is the period of appearance of 
the bud that will subsequently blossom into woman- 
hood and manhood. In the girl, the advent of this pe- 
riod is distinctively noted by the establishment of the 
monthly sickness, while in the boy there is no such char- 
acteristic change, but he seems to become more manly 
in every particular. His voice becomes deeper and 
more masculine, his mental faculties are commencing 
to develop and to be directed into individual channels. 
He seems now, instinctively, to realize the difference 
between the sexes, evidenced by the fact that, while 
hitherto he has been perfectly willing and contented to 
play indiscriminately with boys or girls, to amuse him- PUBERTY. 
103 
self with pleasures common to both, he now seeks the 
company of boys, and becomes diffident and bashful in 
the presence of girls. Without knowing or realizing it, 
his mind is now receiving the impression that there is 
some fundamental change taking place within him; he 
feels that a barrier has arisen between his present and 
former life; he knows that he is a different being from 
what he was but a short time before. And he really 
is. Up to this time, both the boy and the girl have 
been merely human animals. There has been no real 
difference between them. If we except the few differ- 
ences in internal and external anatomy, they have been 
identical. Their thoughts, desires and amusements 
have been the same. But now a wonderful change 
takes place. The boy becomes distinctively a boy, and 
the girl a girl. The differences that become so marked 
in adult life now commence to manifest themselves. 
They are no longer one common type of animal life, 
but thereafter they will constitute two distinct species, 
with thoughts, desires, emotions and functions widely 
divergent. A certain amountof reservewill now take the 
place of the former unrestricted intercourse, since each 
sex will instinctively feel thatan indescribable barrier has 
arisen between them, to be bridged only by the greatest 
courtesy and respect. This embryonic sentiment will 
gradually develop, until in adult life it assumes such 
proportions as to cause the relations we all know to 
exist between the male and female. 
At this point the stream of human life which has hith- 
erto run but in one channel, now meets the “ rock of 
puberty,” an island very narrow, it is true, but as long 
as life. Against it the stream of childhood beats, and 104 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
is divided into two, one flowing toward the bay of man- 
hood, the other to the sound of womanhood—points 
widely divergent, but connected together by the isth- 
mus of society and social intercourse. 
The “Isthmus of Society and Social Intercourse” 
really means the marriage tie, which alone can bring 
back the man and woman into the relations or inti- 
macy akin to that previously existing, before puberty, 
between the boy and girl. The marriage ceremony 
makes man and woman one, and while, of course, their 
distinctive characteristics still remain, yet by this union 
they are brought nearer to the pre-puberty relation of 
the sexes than they ever can be by any other means. 
When this period arrives, the natural mental devel- 
opment of children commences. They view surround- 
ings from an entirely different standpoint than from 
any that have previously influenced them. As chil- 
dren, they accept their conditions as naturally as any 
of the lower animals, and give them no thought, since 
they are incapable of thinking. 
But now, having reached this age, their bodies are 
sufficiently developed to allow their vital force to divert 
some of its power toward the hitherto dormant intel- 
lect. They now commence to think and reason ; they 
now require to satisfy their intelligence with some rea- 
son for every act they perform. This, then, is clearly 
the time at which their intellectual development ought 
to commence in earnest. This is the time to send them 
to school, without fear of injuring their physical wel- 
fare. This period usually occurs in the girl at from 
twelve to fourteen years of age, and in the boy at 
about the fourteenth or fifteenth year. EDUCATION. 
105 
I fully realize that this teaching is altogether antago- 
nistic to the prevailing customs of our country, and it 
is for this reason that I have written this chapter. My 
labor would do you no good, if I were only to tell you 
what you already know; but when I discover errors in 
existing customs, I flatter myself that I can benefit 
mankind by pointing them out, and demonstrating how 
they can be remedied. 
Therefore, I would enunciate the rule, that the hu- 
man race would, in the long run, live longer, be healthier, 
and represent a greater collective amount of intellectual 
development, if children were kept away from school 
until they reach the age of puberty. 
I do not mean that mental education ought to be 
absolutely avoided until that period; far from it. 
Mothers and fathers must realize that they owe to their 
children other duties than merely feeding and clothing 
them; in fact, as I have already intimated, their whole 
time, almost, must be devoted to their children, if they 
desire to develop thoroughly all the possibilities within 
them. Therefore, the parents must, during childhood, 
give some little time, at least, to the education of their 
children. 
Education really consists in developing the mind, by 
imparting to it the knowledge acquired and possessed 
by others. This can be done, in the case of young 
children, in such a way as to make it pleasant to them 
and easy to the parents. 
Suppose you set aside one room in the house for the 
nursery. I would advise you to leave the walls bare 
of any paper at first; occasionally, when you happen to 
meet a bright colored and attractive picture of a horse, 106 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
a cow, a dog, a camel, a cat, or any other animal, paste 
it up on the wall. Do the same with figures. Cut out 
the large red and blue letters from circus handbills and 
paste them on the wall. In some portion of the room 
hang a large card, with the alphabet, in bright, large 
letters, on it. Hang or paste on the wall all the large 
colored pictures you can procure. Make for the floor 
a padded, quilted covering, and on every available 
inch of it sew some attractive picture; endeavoring to 
have represented, in bright and striking colors, every 
object in nature. 
These striking colors will make an impression on 
the little child; they will attract the eye and invite ques- 
tions and thought. Oh! see, mamma, the little four year 
old will exclaim, pointing to a large, red horse, or a 
blue cat, or a large yellow A; Oh! look, papa, to a 
green tree, or a white sheep, or a pink D; a few words 
will suffice to explain and impress upon the innocent 
little mind the nature of the subject that has attracted 
it. 
It would occupy but a few minutes for the father or 
mother to take the little child by the hand, and walking 
around the nursery, point out to it a large A, then a 
B, and a C, and so on through the alphabet. I am 
sure that five or ten minutes a day so occupied would, 
with a child four years old, result, after a few months, in 
it being able to repeat the whole alphabet and to point 
out any particular letter. 
Then, when the picture of any animal or any particu- 
lar object attracts the child’s attention, a few plain and 
easily understood words about the nature of this 
object will make an ineffaceable impression. When OBJECT TEACHING. 
107 
the child is able to point out quickly each letter, it will 
be well to confine your explanation to the card contain- 
ing them in rotation, when, in a short time, your little 
child will be able to go through the whole alphabet 
To illustrate, suppose a red horse attracts the eye; 
standing in front of it, point out to your child its head, 
its legs, its back, mane, tail, hoofs, in fact, all parts of it, 
then going to a picture of a colt, tell it that this is a 
baby horse, and that after a while it will grow into a 
large horse, just like the other one. Tell that the horse 
is strong and can pull heavy loads, that it is used to 
pull carriages with people in them. Then go to a pic- 
ture of a carriage, and say this is a carriage; there are 
the wheels, this is the door, this is the pole to which 
the horses are harnessed; inside are the seats where 
people sit; here is the seat for the driver, and so on.” 
Then go to a picture representing a carriage with 
horses harnessed to it. Explain all parts of it. Thus, 
then, will your little child learn something about the 
horse and the carriage, as well as the relation that the 
one holds to the other, and all with but little expendi- 
ture of time and with no effort on the part of the child, 
but only a pleasant and agreeable few minutes, that, 
instead of injuring, will really benefit the physical 
development. 
Again, you must remember that children are very ob- 
servant; you know that “little pitchers have big ears;" 
little children indeed have, and hear much; so that your 
conversation will tend to educate them. They will 
hear and remember much more than you imagine they 
do; their little ears miss very little that is going on 
around them. Thus, by being careful and thoughtful 108 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
about the conversation used in their presence, you will 
help this preliminary education of their intellect. If 
you catch my idea, it will redound to your children’s 
benefit; in a few words, it might be said that the pre- 
puberty education of children ought to be confined to 
that inductive training which they receive from personal 
intercourse with those older and wiser than themselves. 
But receiving this instruction in the way I have indi- 
cated, a little at a time, and in a manner so gradual and 
so easy as to be scarcely noticeable, the strain on the 
physical system is almost absolutely nil, while the men- 
tal portion of the body receives from it only that 
gentle and healthful stimulus that will react favorably 
on the bodily vigor. 
After a time, when the alphabet has been thoroughly 
mastered, you can hang in the room short words, and 
tell your children how to spell them. Suppose you 
have the word dog ; you can cause your little boy or 
girl to first point out D, then O, then G, around the room; 
then, coming to the combination of these letters, to the 
word dog, he or she will be able to tell you each letter, 
to say DOG; then you tell him that spells dog, and 
devote a few minutes to a lucid explanation of what 
a dog is. First present the words in large capital let- 
ters ; subsequently familiarize the child with the same 
word in written letters; thus will gradually become 
familiar to them the different kinds of letters. Then 
you can have a large blackboard and chalk; upon it 
let the child first make the printed letters, directing 
his budding power by holding his hand. When he 
can, without assistance, print DOG, then teach him to 
write dog. This is used merely as an illustration, to PRIMARY LESSONS. 
109 
demonstrate to you how gradual ought to be the devel- 
opment at this tender age. 
After the letters have been mastered and words can 
be spelled, it will be but a small, almost imperceptible 
and very gradual step, until your child can read. 
Figures can then be taken up. When the child can 
tell you each figure as you point it out, and can make 
them on the blackboard, then can you commence with 
the simplest forms of addition, giving them such little 
sums to do as _2, or ±, or 2)4(2, and the like; when 
these have been mastered, you can go on to more 
difficult arithmetical problems. 
Thus, by occupying only a few minutes a day, and 
by making it a labor of love, your child will insensibly 
become able to read and write, and become familiar 
with arithmetic. 
How few parents take this little trouble ; they seem 
to think that their duty is performed when they furnish 
a home, food and clothing for their offspring; while, 
when they think the time has come to train and de- 
velop the mind, they intrust this all important duty to 
strangers, who have no love for or interest in their 
children, and who do their work only because they are 
paid for it. 
By this gradual and pleasant home education, ample 
time is afforded for the all important physical develop- 
ment without which the perpetuity of the subsequent 
mental expansion will be impossible. 
When the child is able to read and write, you should 
procure a good supply of simple little books, contain- 
ing only short and easy words; then encourage your 
child to read, and spend a few minutes in talking over 110 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
with and explaining to it what he or she may have been 
reading. By this means you will instill gradually into 
the little mind the habit of thought and reasoning. 
By this gradual process, which I have only been able 
to outline, your child will reach the age of puberty 
with a very good knowledge of the fundamental prin- 
ciples of all learning ; reading, writing and arithmetic. 
While pursuing these little Kindergarten studies, the 
child should be made to remain much in the open air, 
and particular care should be taken that it receives a 
sufficiency of physical exercise; how to accomplish this 
you will learn in the chapter on Exercise. 
This course of intellectual training should not be 
made irksome to the child; it ought not to be forced 
when it has not the inclination. If the child does not 
want to look at the pictures and hear your explanations 
you should let it do exactly what it does want to do; 
you can rest assured that if you make the pictures 
bright and the explanations easy and attractive, suffi- 
cient time will be voluntarily and cheerfully occupied 
in contemplation and study of them to accomplish the 
desired purpose. 
There is only one thing in the education of a little 
child that ought to be forced, and that is obedience; 
but in enforcing it, you must use judgment. When you 
tell a child that it must do so and so, there ought to be 
no appeal; no matter how much time and trouble it may 
cause you, you ought to persist until what you have 
ordered has been done. But you must be careful that 
you are directing the right thing before you take this 
determined stand. You must remember that children 
have an instinctive sense of right and wrong, and if they SCHOOL PERIOD. 
feel that the parent is endeavoring to force them to do 
that which is to them instinctively wrong, they will often- 
times become openly defiant, when nothing short of 
physical force will compel them to fulfill your unjust com- 
mands, with the result that their respect and love for 
you will be lessened, as well as the diminution of your 
authority over them. In many cases these constant 
squabbles and wrangles for supremacy between par- 
ents and children will so annoy and irritate both parties 
as to redound injuriously to their physical welfare. 
Therefore, it is much better to let your children have 
a “free foot',' so to speak ; let them do pretty much as 
they please, unless they want to do something that is 
morally wrong, or that is clearly opposed to their phys- 
ical welfare. Remember that some of the greatest 
men in this country have literally brought themselves 
up ; their infancy and childhood have been passed amid 
such surroundings that they were unable to receive 
much training; indeed, I can assure you, that more 
worthless men result from too much bringing up than 
from too little. 
Now, then, when the boy is, say fourteen years of 
age, he is well developed physically; he has a thor- 
ough knowledge of the preliminary and absolutely 
necessary branches of education, learned from the 
kindest and gentlest of teachers. From this time the 
future education of the three different classes of society 
must diverge; up to this time, all classes (except that 
in which the parents are absolutely illiterate) can 
be educated on the same common plan. It costs 
no money, and only requires some patience, persever- 
ance and love on the part of the parent. But now 112 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
the time comes when the children of the rich will com- 
mence their ornamental intellectual development. With 
their good foundation and their fine physique, from two 
to four years with a private tutor, or in a good prepara- 
tory school, will thoroughly prepare them for the more 
complicated and arduous duties and studies of college 
life. So that, when sixteen years of age, they can enter 
upon their four years’ course with minds sufficiently ma- 
ture to enable them to realize and appreciate the advan- 
tages they are about to receive. Then at twenty they 
graduate, which is undoubtedly the proper age, for now 
they are prepared to take up some professional study. 
Suppose medicine is decided upon. A three years’ 
course, with a term of one year as resident physician in 
a hospital, will bring them to twenty-four; this, followed 
by a two years’ course of travel, study and observation, 
will bring back your son a finished and thoroughly edu- 
cated gentleman, old enough to hope to obtain some 
practice at his profession. While, if foi'ced, through, 
completing his professional education at twenty-one, 
he will be sure to have some years of weary waiting, 
since no one will employ so young a man or boy. 
With those in moderate circumstances, the prelimi- 
nary school education will prepare the boy for work at 
sixteen. He can then earn his own living, but will 
have had the great and incalculable advantage of a 
fair general education. He will know enough to carry 
him successfully through any business career, while he 
will have a foundation upon which to erect a structure 
of more ornamental learning, should he be fortunate 
enough to meet with the business success that will 
afford him some spare time. SCHOOL PERIOD. 
113 
To the poor, the boy of twelve will have the knowl- 
edge that will raise him above the level of the brute 
creation. He can read, write, and has a knowledge of 
elementary arithmetic, with which he can be put to 
work, with the confident belief that his mind has been 
started into the right channel, and that in the majority 
of cases a desire for learning has been implanted that 
will cause him to seize every future opportunity of 
developing his intellect. 
We have now brought our children up to the school 
period, when we can go on to the next chapter and 
discuss how to attend to them when that period has 
arrived. 114 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
CHAPTER IV. 
HOW SCHOOL CHILDREN OUGHT TO LIVE. 
When the boy or girl, but more particularly the 
former, reaches the age of puberty, he becomes to a 
certain extent an independent individual. The former 
complete reliance on his parents is now substituted by 
an instinctive independence. He feels that he has 
reached the age of reason, and that he is no longer 
the little child, to be absolutely and unquestionably 
controlled by another. 
The period of unreasoning and unquestioned obedi- 
ence has now given way to the power of thought and 
reasoning, and to the consequent independence born of 
these two faculties. He will no longer submit to what 
may seem to him to be unjust commands. This bud- 
ding feeling ctf independence will be evidenced by his 
readiness for argument. You might tell a child of five 
that black was white, and he would believe it, since he 
would not be capable of reasoning otherwise; but if 
you tell a boy of twelve that he must not play foot-ball 
or cricket, when he sees all the boys in the neighbor- 
hood enjoying these games, he will be sure to ask the 
why and wherefore of your, to him, unreasonable com- 
mand, and to argue its injustice with you. 
Very few parents thoroughly realize the importance 
of this symptom in their children. They have been 
accustomed, from the hour of birth, to regard their off- 
spring as they do their horses or dogs. They feel that AGE OF REASONING. 
115 
their will must be unquestioned and undisputed law in 
the household; the child must subordinate all its im- 
pulses and desires to theirs, as absolutely as does the 
horse. Everything must be done as they say. There- 
fore, when this natural independence commences to 
manifest itself, it is misinterpreted and construed as 
open and willful rebellion against parental authority, and 
must be nipped in the bud, before it gains strength 
and headway. 
This is a fatal error into which most parents fall, and 
the sooner they realize it the better will it be for their 
future happiness. You must know that when your boy 
or girl reaches the age of puberty, he or she is com- 
mencing to be a man or woman, and if you wish peace 
in the household and a subsequently respectable and 
happy family of children, you must commence to treat 
them as such; you can no longer make babies of 
them; while, if you foolishly forbid them the society 
and rational pleasures of those of their age, you will, 
in the majority of instances, make them deceitful, since 
they will, in spite of you, enjoy the pleasures that 
the natural inclination of their age demands. The 
hitherto child must now be made a companion. Every- 
thing.that you desire them to do, you must explain to 
them why they ought to do it. You should encourage 
discussion between your children and yourself, since this 
will tend to enlarge their minds, by imparting to them 
some of the information from your more mature minds. 
If now your children are going to school, it behooves 
you to be very careful in your selection of the school 
to which you send them. It will not be enough, and 
your duty will not be done, when you have ascertained 116 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
that the school is presided over by a learned principal 
and that the pupils all advance rapidly in their studies. 
You must once for all realize that while both health 
and learning are very desirable and to be sought after, 
yet the former is infinitely more important than the 
latter. 
You should make a personal inspection of the school, 
and ascertain (by the means I will give you in the chap- 
ter on ventilation) whether there is a plentiful supply 
of pure air for all the pupils. It is necessary, also, that 
their desks and seats shall be so arranged that when 
doing their school work they can sit erect; if, as is so 
common, they are compelled to lean forward, with the 
shoulders high up, you can readily understand that the 
chest will be contracted, its free expansion interfered 
with, when the forcible interference with development 
of all the vital organs which I have already illustrated 
to you will be produced. 
Nearly all the time outside of school hours ought to 
be devoted to exercise and amusement. I would not 
allow my own child, who was confined in school from 
nine in the morning until two in the afternoon, to study 
more than two hours, at the utmost, outside of school. 
Our American school system is simply abominable. 
The idea of confining a little boy or girl for five or six 
hours, and then sending them home with studies for the 
next day that will require three or four hours of hard 
work, is brutal. This is strong language, but I deem 
it justifiable when applied to such an outrageous abuse 
as the ruination of the physical strength of these poor 
little children, whose future possibilities no one can 
foresee. MENTAL CRAMMING. 
117 
Let me detail my daily experience for four years at 
college. 
At a quarter past five in the morning we were forced 
out of bed, in the coldest days of winter, with five 
minutes only for dressing; we hurried down from the 
garret (in which we slept) to the wash room in the 
basement; after a hurried washing in the coldest 
water imaginable, with our half frozen bodies still wet 
from the washing, we hurried across a yard, some two 
hundred feet, up to the third story, to our study hall, 
where our elaborate toilettes were completed. Then, at a 
quarter before six, we repaired to the chapel for divine 
service, and back again to study, on an empty stomach, 
until a quarter before eight, when we had breakfast. 
With twenty minutes’ recreation, recitations com- 
menced, and continued with three intervals of five 
minutes each, until eleven o’clock; a recreation of half 
an hour was followed by dinner. Then one hour’s 
amusement was followed by one hour and a half of 
study, and recitations until five o’clock ; then amuse- 
ment until half past; supper, divine service and study 
until bed-time, at nine. This routine was varied two 
days in the week by holiday from dinner time until sup- 
per, followed by the regular evening study. The boys 
at this college were divided into two sets, according to 
their size, and the routine that I have furnished was for 
the larger boys, while that for the smaller was modi- 
fied, by allowing them to remain in bed fifteen minutes 
longer in the morning, and to retire one hour earlier. 
The qualification for admittance among the large boys 
was that the candidate should measure four feet, five 
inches, no matter what his age might*be; so that I 118 
HO\V WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
have known tall boys of fourteen to be subjected to the 
hardships I have described, a mode of life that would 
be calculated to undermine the constitution of a man. 
This was a first=class college, than which there were and 
are none better in the land. 
The trouble is, that we desire to do everything too 
rapidly in this country; we desire to accomplish our 
ends in half the time that the older and more settled 
countries consider it proper to consume in accomplish- 
ing the same purposes. This is the natural outgrowth 
of the two facts that we have an enormous country to 
develop, and that we are constantly receiving acces- 
sions from other countries, who, anxious to make 
money, set to work with a feverish and unnatural 
haste, working, working, working, never ceasing until 
they have accomplished their purpose. 
Unfortunately, this same evil of hurry, so character- 
istic of Americans, has found its way into the educa- 
tion of our children, and the desire seems to be 
to force them through their mental training as 
rapidly as possible, with the result that they are over- 
worked ; they cram, they forget half they learn, and 
when they get through are only half educated. 
To illustrate: When a young man commences to 
study medicine, in this country, unless he may choose 
one of the few really first-class colleges, he is forced to 
study nearly all day long, and after two years of such 
crowding he receives his diploma. As a result, what 
he may have learned is but very imperfectly arranged 
in his mind; it is not thoroughly digested, and is soon 
forgotten. 
In Europe,*on the contrary, a student of medicine MODERATION IN STUDY. 
119 
will work, will read, study or attend lectures only for a 
few hours each day; he will then devote himself to ra- 
tional amusement. In Vienna, for example, a couple 
or more students, after a morning’s course of lectures, 
will repair to one of the famous pleasure gardens of 
that wonderful city, and with pipe and a moderate 
quantity of beer, will sit and listen to delightful music, 
discussing, while sitting, the new points they may have 
learned in the morning; thus each day’s work is thor- 
oughly digested and assimilated, and forms an integral 
portion of the intellectual being. 
The case is similar to that of eating. If a man eats 
in ten minutes that which he ought to eat in an hour or 
two, and if he consumes very much more food than he 
requires, there can only be one result; he must reject 
some of the surplus, and he must have dyspepsia, as a 
result of which his physical being is but imperfectly 
nourished. 
So, if a student forces into his mind more mental 
food than it can digest and assimilate, some of it will 
be rejected and forgotten, while the psychical dyspepsia 
produced by this overcrowding will interfere with the 
proper nutrition of his intellectual being. This fact 
only bears out the rule enunciated in the chapter on 
“ How to Work,” that a lesser amount of judiciously 
performed mental labor will be productive of more 
ultimate good than a very much greater amount of 
forced mental acquirements. 
Therefore, to educate as we ought our'offspring, and 
to develop their physique as well, not more than four 
to six hours, all told, each day, ought to be devoted to 
mental culture. Physical growth is natural; mental 120 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
training is artificial. In order that we may enjoy lon- 
gevity, we must conform to nature, therefore, the 
natural duties or functions must subordinate the arti- 
ficial. 
When you desire to train a vine into any particular 
ornamental shape, differing from the position which it 
will naturally assume, you must handle it very gently, 
lest you may, by roughness or too much artificial inter- 
ference, so hinder or retard its natural growth as to 
destroy its vigor. So when you endeavor to train the 
mental portion of your child into any particular chan- 
nel, you must be careful, lest by doing so either pre- 
maturely or too vigorously you may weaken or destroy 
its physical vigor. 
Thus, then, to sum up our advice on this question of 
education of the intellect, we would say, that the men- 
tal development of your sons and daughters ought to 
be very gradually and wisely conducted. Give them 
but little at a time, let this little be thoroughly stored 
away in the innermost recesses of the brain, and do not 
put in any more until this has taken deep root. Each 
wise thought, well planted, will grow vigorously, will 
give off many branches, and these same will bud, 
while from every bud will evolve some good fruit. 
But if hastily and imperfectly planted, these teachings 
will languish and die. 
Mothers have a most important duty to perform. 
When their daughters reach the age of thirteen or four- 
teen years, and give evidence of the great change 
about to take place within them, it becomes very 
necessary that this important expected function should 
be explained to them. Many mothers, through a false PHYSICAL EDUCATION. 
121 
sense of propriety, will neglect to do this, and as a 
result the first monthly sickness comes upon their 
daughters unexpectedly, and in many cases produces a 
fright and shock to the nervous system that may prove 
very injurious. A few simple words will suffice to 
explain to the young girl all about what she has soon 
to expect, and will so prepare her mind that when it 
comes it will seem but perfectly natural, and will create 
no alarm. 
At this period of approaching manhood the father 
should make a companion of his son; while guarding 
his conversation against any language that might tend 
to implant wrong or immoral ideas in the youth’s mind, 
yet he ought to gradually unfold to him the duties he 
may have to perform in after life. This knowledge is 
generally received by young boys in an immoral and 
vulgar way, from those boys who are older than them- 
selves ; it would be much better were such information 
to be conveyed in the judicious, mature and careful 
language of the father. 
Of course, you will all understand what I mean; the 
duties that your children will have to perform in after 
life, in perpetuating their species, are accompanied by 
ideas and mental sensations of two kinds. One moral, 
the other immoral. Unfortunately and wrongly, pa- 
rents avoid these subjects, trusting, it would seem, to 
nature to acquaint their children with them. In this 
instance, nature is not a good teacher, since, as I have 
said, when left, as it usually is, to be learned as it may, it 
is usually communicated from older to younger boys. 
These older boys, not yet sufficiently developed men- 
tally to understand this wonderful function in its true 122 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
and sublime aspect, view it only from the standpoint of 
immorality, hence they implant immoral seeds in young 
and innocent minds, which may produce very serious 
evil results before they are old enough and sensible 
enough to regard them from true and noble standpoints. 
But if, on the other hand, the father explains to the son, 
and the mother to the daughter, in chaste and well 
chosen words, the nature of the wonderful duties they 
will be called upon to perform in the future, these think- 
ing young men and women will receive this knowledge 
and information from a moral standpoint, and instead 
of regarding it as a something merely to gratify and 
satisfy a base and animal passion, they will view it as 
a sacred and pure duty, by which God's creatures are 
perpetuated. 
The whole impression which this information makes 
on the mind will be radically different, and the ensuing 
results will be wonderful; the boy will repay this con- 
fidence and trust that is placed in him ; he will feel that 
you are regarding and treating him as a man, and he 
will be stimulated to act as such ; he will be put upon 
his pride, as it were, and you can rest assured that in 
the majority of cases this will be the best course to 
pursue. 
When telling your son about these duties it will be 
well to picture to him the disastrous results of neglect- 
ing your good advice; let him know all about the 
penalties of violating chastity in after life; if you do 
not tell him, some one less competent will do so ; and 
he will then learn it in such a light, frivolous and ap- 
parently attractive manner, that very likely he will be 
drawn toward these very dangers, and will not realize EDUCATION BY EXAMPLE. 
123 
their magnitude until he has become their victim. It 
is a fact that in the large majority of instances the sin- 
ful and dangerous pleasures of life are presented to 
the young from a very attractive standpoint, their claws 
and poisoned fangs being hidden under the glare and 
blaze of pleasure, so fascinating to the young; but 
these masked enemies can and will bite, bite deeply, 
seriously and lastingly; they spare neither the young 
nor the old; all alike are subject to their evil influences. 
Those who are forewarned are forearmed; therefore, 
if the father will instruct and advise his young son, 
approaching manhood, and show him, in the true light 
of mature years, the almost inevitable consequences 
of unbridled enjoyment of these seductive pleasures, 
he will be prepared to peer through the false and daz- 
zling covering of these claws, and to discern the dangers 
lurking beyond and hidden. When young companions 
picture to him, in attractive words, the delights of the 
immoral pleasures of the world, he will be much less 
apt to yield to their tempting influence if he has been 
forewarned by the kind words of a loving father. But 
remember one thing, parents: if you desire your chil- 
dren to lead correct lives, you must set the example. 
If they see the father or mother living a life of immor- 
ality or incorrectness, their moral sense will be natur- 
ally blunted ; they will accept this as the correct mode 
of life, since children, when they commence to reason 
and observe, instinctively look up to their parents as 
the most perfect type of life, and that from which they 
are to model. When, growing older, they see and realize, 
by contact with purer lives, the faults in you, they will 
regard you as inferior beings, and your authority over 124 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
them and their respect for you will rapidly diminish. 
While, at the same time, they will, unconsciously 
to themselves, view sinful pleasures with a certain 
leniency, born of bad example, that will be altogether 
incompatible with a true moral existence. You can- 
not expect any independent human being to obey you, 
when you order the denial of a seeming pleasure, in 
which you indulge yourself the while. It will be useless 
to preach to your son about the evils of intemperance, 
if he sees you daily consuming a certain quantity of 
spirits; or to tell him that it is wrong to use tobacco, 
when every evening he sees you deliberately light and 
enjoy an after supper cigar. When very young, he 
will disobey and do what he sees you do; when he 
grows older, he will regard these prohibitions as tyranny 
and will rebel. But if you are always careful to do 
yourself that which you tell him to do, he will be very 
apt to think you are right and will obey, because he 
notices that you, who are older and have more wisdom, 
do the same things. It is folly to talk about the father 
drinking in moderation and teaching his son to do the 
same; the law of moderation is almost an unknown 
quantity to the majority of young persons ; with the 
impulsive temperament predominating at this period of 
life, whatever they do they do ardently and thoroughly; 
if good, they are very good ; if bad, they are awfully 
bad ; they know no half-way business; they lack the 
maturity to be guided by judgment in matters born 
of the human passions, and are controlled solely by 
impulse. Therefore, if the father will enjoy an occa- 
sional drink while his son is growing up, let him do so 
privately; do not let the boy see you ; but if he should DANGER OF HARSHNESS. 
125 
ever find out that while preaching against it you are at 
the same time drinking on the sly, the additional bad 
seeds of deceit will be sown, and before you realize it, 
your son will be drinking privately and hiding it from 
you; tit for tat, you know; you must not be sur- 
prised to see your children doing anything that you 
yourself do; they are like monkeys in some respects; 
they are very imitative and very prone to do what they 
see others older than themselves doing. 
But, now, I am going to advise something that may 
seem antagonistic to the views already expressed, but 
in reality it is not. When the young man reaches the 
age of sixteen or seventeen, if he seems inclined to be 
a little gay and wayward, be very careful how you 
handle him, or you may ruin him for life. Under these 
circumstances, the majority of parents assume the 
course of harshness and severity, which cannot be too 
much condemned. They command and demand obe- 
dience, which they do not receive. Their crossness 
makes the children cross, and they get at loggerheads. 
Some fathers whom I know will sternly say to a son 
of eighteen or twenty, “ if you are not home 
this evening by ten o’clock the door will be locked.” 
The young man may be with some friends, and forget- 
ting the time, suddenly note that his hour has arrived; 
hurrying home, he finds the door of his own home 
locked against him. He must sleep some place ; he 
cannot wander the streets all night; so, returning to 
his companions, with his mind full of anger against this 
unnatural father, he is prepared to become reckless, to 
drink deeply, and in an intoxicated condition, irrespon- 
sible, and knowing and caring not what he does, to 126 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
pass the night in the most riotous and demoralizing 
debauchery. 
On a subsequent night, when he notes that his hour 
has unexpectedly come upon him, he will think that there 
is no use in going home, since he will surely be locked 
out; when, with some uneasy feelings of a reproachful 
conscience, tempered by parental harshness, he will 
dip into the bowl of excess, and pass another ruinous 
night. By degrees, this oft repeated experience will 
wean him from the beneficent control of home influence, 
and while maintaining an exterior of respectability, he 
will become a domestic outcast. He will hate this 
father who has been so harsh, he will have no taste for 
home, he will much prefer his boon companions, ever 
ready to receive him, cheerful, wild, gay dogs as they 
are. Forbidden pleasures will become tasteful to him, 
since home pleasures are denied him. From bad to 
worse, on he will go, until he winds up in a physical 
wreck and a premature grave, or becomes a social out- 
cast, a drunkard, a sot, a specimen unworthy the name 
of man. And all through mistaken judgment on the 
part of the father. 
This is not a fancy picture; I have known many 
such cases. I could, to-day, point out well educated 
young men whom I occasionally meet as conductors 
on street cars, whom I knew as young boys. Their 
families were intelligent and well off pecuniarily, and 
are still. The fathers’ harshness and strict rules drove 
these boys through the various stages of the life I have 
described, until to-day they are really good-for-nothings. 
They are thieves, drunkards, liars, blasphemers, infi- 
dels; in a word, they are brutes, and they owe all their A CONSERVATIVE EXAMPLE. 
127 
degradation to their fathers. In some cases these par- 
ents love their children dearly, and are terribly pained 
to see them going to the dogs; but they lack judg- 
ment; they pursue the wrong course, in the first in- 
stance, to reclaim the boy, when he has barely stepped 
out of the path of rectitude, and before he has advanced 
far on the highwav of perdition. 
I once knew a prominent, intelligent and rich gen- 
tleman, who pursued the ideal course under these cir- 
cumstances: When his boy showed the first symptoms 
of being fast, he commenced to reason kindly with him, 
and finding this of no avail, shipped him off to Europe 
in a sailing vessel, reasoning thus: “ The boy has a 
stock of wild oats, and will sow them in spite of me. If 
I oppose him, I will make him worse. When his seeds 
are planted, they will, if their growth be not interfered 
with by parental authority, develop rapidly, and he 
will reap a crop of wisdom. In America, fast young 
men are usually loafers and blackguards; they drink 
whisky, become wild and almost crazy under the influ- 
ence of excessive use of it, and injure their health and 
reputation. In Europe, and particularly on the Conti- 
nent, nearly all young men pass through a gay period, 
but they do so comparatively respectably; they never 
get beastly drunk; they consume more wine than 
whisky; his surroundings will there be of a more 
refined and gentlemanly character. The soil in which 
he plants his wild seeds is better; it is richer, and the 
crop will grow with much less labor and much more 
rapidly than if planted in weedy soil that may choke 
and hinder it, and delay the ultimate fruits of wisdom.” 
Within two years this young boy returned, a man ; he 128 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
realized his errors, and setting to work with a will, be- 
came a young man of whom his father is and ever will 
be very proud. 
I have given you the two extremes. What you 
want is the happy medium. There are very few par- 
ents who would or could do what the last father did, 
but there are very many who follow in the footsteps of 
the first. 
« To observe this medium you must, broadly, allow 
your son a “free footif you do not allow it, he will 
take it; so, you had better make a virtue of necessity. 
At the same time, you ought to talk to him whenever 
an opportunity offers. Do not, when you see him 
about going out in the evening, call him into your 
study and read him a long lecture on the iniquity of his 
ways, and argue that he ought to do differently. His 
mind is occupied with some engagement he has made 
with young men, and the prospective pleasure in store 
for him, and becoming fidgety and uneasy as he sees 
the minute hand on the mantel clock go round, he 
hears not what you are saying, while, when you are 
through, and he is able to slip away, he mentally votes 
you an antiquated bore and nuisance, and tells his 
friends that he has just had a lecture from the Governor, 
at which they all laugh. So much for your untimely 
interference. If you repeat this unnecessary dose very 
often, the young man will exercise his ingenuity to 
evade you, since he knows what to expect. There- 
fore, in order to enforce your advice and to cause it to 
make an impression, you must, first of all, set a good 
example; this is a “ sine qua non!' Then, when you hap- 
pen accidentally to be alone with your son, or when you CULTIVATE FAMILIAR INTERCOURSE. 
129 
can make it seem to him that this being alone together is 
accidental, and he evinces no impatience or desire to 
go out, you can commence a conversation about world- 
ly affairs, talking as one friend would to another. Treat 
this boy as you would your brother, and let him feel 
that you are doing so. Be careful and guarded, but at 
the same time be very plain. Bring the conversation 
gradually from general worldly topics down to the sub- 
ject of how much evil and what unfortunate after re- 
sults spring from youthful indiscretion. Remind your 
boy about so and so, who led a fast life, and point out 
its disastrous results. Select some case that he is fa- 
miliar with, but do not let him think that you imagine 
for one moment that he is pursuing the same course. 
Without saying so, in so many words, talk as if you 
took it for granted that he would it beneath 
him to do the very things that you know he has been 
guilty of. If you do not tell him to the contrary, he 
will imagine that you are ignorant of his evil doings, 
and will never think that your remarks are intended 
for him. You can then direct the conversation toward 
the history of some of the great and good men of the 
day; you can, for instance, tell him something about 
Lincoln, or Garfield, and interest him in reading the 
history of their lives ; when you perceive that he is 
tiring of this conversation, stop it and let him do as he 
pleases. At some future time take it up again, but 
never let him suspect your purpose. 
A great point in the education of boys into young 
men, and to keep them from evil ways, is to make 
home attractive. Young persons love young company 
and gayety, and if they do not find it at home, they will 130 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
seek for it elsewhere. Have your house well lighted 
at night, and encourage your boys and girls, in every 
possible way, to spend their spare time either in your 
own house, with companions of their age, or in the 
house of some one who has brought up his or her 
children in the manner I have indicated. 
Do not forbid the theatre ; if you do, your children 
will go all the same, and will lie to you about it; so that 
they will, by your action, be made not only disobedient, 
but also deceitful liars. 
Rather encourage them to go to these places of 
amusement with you. Make up parties of young 
persons to visit the theatre together, under your care; 
but do not let the young folks imagine that you are 
going because you are afraid to trust them alone, but 
because you will enjoy it as much as they will. They 
will thus look on you as one of themselves, will con- 
sider you young and full of fun, like they are them- 
selves, while at the same time they will much more 
readily receive and have ineffaceably impressed on their 
minds the ideas and actions which they observe and note 
in you, who, though they know to be older and wiser than 
themselves, yet they see enjoying the same pleasures 
that they do. They will imitate you, since they will 
consider it the right thing to do; while if they went 
alone, they would have no one to whom to look up, 
and would be very apt to do whatever their immature 
and undeveloped instincts might dictate. This advice 
may seem like encouraging too much freedom and 
liberty. But it will not. Personal traits, like personal 
appearances, are hereditary. If a child inherits good- 
ness from good parents, it may go wrong for a while, TRAIN, RATHER THAN RESTRAIN. 
131 
but it will ultimately turn into the right road and 
come out all right. If, from the time of birth, you will 
carefully train and care for your children as I have 
indicated, you can rest assured that, if they have in- 
herited good morality from morally healthy parentage, 
when they reach the age of young manhood, if they 
evince a tendency to be wild and gay, and if you 
follow my advice, they will soon sow their wild oats 
and settle down into good men. While, if you en- 
deavor to restrain them by power of enforced parental 
authority, you will only make them worse. So consider 
and take this advice; let your independent children have 
their own way to a certain or even to a great extent. 
Remember that you must handle vegetable life very 
carefully, else you will ruin it, and realize also that the 
same is true of human animal life. 
Do not forget that you can always accomplish far 
more by moral suasion than by brute force. Slaves 
can be driven, but remember that your children are 
not slaves and will not be forced. Be gentle, consider- 
ate, kind and politic. Set a good example, and by 
sensible and timely advice endeavor to induce your 
children to follow this example. By this means, and by 
no other, can you expect to produce noble men and 
women, human beings who will, throughout life, love 
and respect those who have brought them into the 
world, and will prove an honor and pleasure, in after 
life, to their parents. 
We have thus briefly studied the physical and intel- 
lectual education of the human being, from the time it 
first becomes a thing of life, through the various stages, 
until we have it now a fully developed and thor- 132 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
oughly independent man or woman. It will be well, 
therefore, in continuance of our purpose, to go on and 
describe, in the succeeding chapters, how this human 
being ought to live, in order that it may enjoy to the 
utmost the pleasures of this life, and may, having 
reached old age, gradually and peacefully pass away, 
after having performed every possible duty and en- 
joyed every possible pleasure of which it is capable. MOST HEALTHY MODE OF LIFE. 
133 
CHAPTER V. 
OUR HOUSES AND GROUNDS ; HOW TO BUILD AND ARRANGE 
them; drainage. 
Houses are nuisances and are prejudicial to health. 
Let us take this for a starting point. The health of 
man would be better and his life longer if houses .were 
unknown. 
When God created the first man and woman, he did 
not erect a magnificent house and place them in it. 
On the contrary, he caused them to exist in open 
country. No one would doubt for a moment that 
he could have furnished them a house to live in, had he 
cared to do so ; but he did not deem it wise. From 
this we draw a lesson that subsequent experience has 
proven to be correct. We find the greatest vigor and 
the largest number of instances of longevity among 
wandering tribes, who know not the meaning of the 
word house. For two reasons is this so. First: living 
as they do, in the open air, they cannot possibly suffer 
from the ill effects of want of ventilation, while, moving 
from place to place, they escape the injurious results of 
defective drainage, since they do not remain long 
enough in one locality to allow of the development and 
action of these poisonous influences; for, as we shall 
see further on, time is requisite in order that defective 
drainage poisons shall be generated. Secondly, from 
the hour of birth, these wandering children are sub- 
jected to the influence of all kinds of weather, so that 134 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
the process of hardening is successfully but almost im- 
perceptibly carried out, whereby the child is rendered 
vigorous and insusceptible to the effects of slight at- 
mospheric changes, as is the child of civilization. The 
society and mode of life bred of the gathering together 
of men into communities and cities is calculated to 
develop the intellectual side of mankind, while the lives 
led by the wild Indians of our plains, by the natives of 
South Africa, and by the wandering tribes of gypsies, 
are much more potent to develop the physical. 
But, since we desire an equal development of both, 
in order that we may have the most perfect man, there- 
fore does civilization and its accompaniments become 
an important factor in the accomplishment of this 
result. 
Since we cannot all live in the woods and on the 
plains, and since houses are necessary to protect us 
from the inclemencies of the weather, because we have 
been so reared that exposure would be injurious, and 
to enable us to live our secret lives unknown and 
unexposed to the gaze and criticism of our neighbors; 
since, in a word, houses must be, it becomes our duty 
to so arrange them that we will derive from this artifi- 
cial life the greatest amount of good and the least pro- 
portion of harm. I do not intend to go minutely into 
the discussion of the fine points involved in house 
building and drainage, for two reasons: In the first 
place, the majority of my readers would not understand 
me if I did; what would they know about these intri- 
cate questions that really constitute a science, to which 
a man must devote many years of study ere he becomes 
proficient, and which it would be impossible for any BEST LOCATION FOR A HOME. 
135 
one to thoroughly learn from these few pages. Sec- 
ondly, because I do not consider it necessary. As I 
have already said, very strict rules about anything, in 
connection with any walk of life, are apt to be disre- 
garded, on account of their very stringency; thus they 
become worse than useless, because a person feeling 
that he cannot comprehend them, is very apt to throw 
down the book in disgust and do as he chooses. 
Again, I consider these very strict rules unnecessary, 
since by living reasonably well a person can enjoy very 
good health, and can reach a reasonable degree of 
longevity. The majority of books written on houses 
and drainage are not practical, because their directions 
can only be carried out by a rich man, who can afford 
to build his own house. Realizing these shortcomings 
in most of the works on hygiene, it has been my pur- 
pose to formulate a mode of life that all (rich and poor 
alike) can follow, without expense and without incon- 
venience to themselves. 
The very large majority of people in this world are 
compelled, by circumstances, to live in rented houses. 
The few who are so fortunate as to possess the means 
wherewith to locate and build their own homes can 
secure the services of good architects and of scientists 
in hygiene, who can so direct them that a faultlessly 
healthy house will be erected. 
But for the majority, who cannot do so, this chapter 
has been written. 
When you are about to rent a house, there are three 
prime points to be taken into consideration. In dis- 
cussing them, I will first suppose you are intending to 
reside in a city. 136 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
They are, ist, location; 2d, arrangement, or archi- 
tecture of the house; and 3d, drainage. 
1. Location.—The location is a very important 
point. If you are living in a city that is very hilly, as, 
for instance, Baltimore, never select the bottom of a 
descent, for reasons that you will learn when we dis- 
cuss drainage. Be very careful to note surroundings. 
If there happens to be any kind of a business establish- 
ment in which organic remains are used, that is, where 
they utilize anything that has had life, do not locate 
there, because the decomposition of these organic 
bodies may give rise to poisonous gases and particles, 
which, carried into your house by the wind, will pro- 
duce malarial poisoning, or even worse disease. 
Shun the vicinity of chemical works, because, in the 
manufacture of many drugs and chemicals, poisonous 
and irritating gases are formed, which, passing out 
through the chimney, mingle with the atmosphere you 
breathe, and may be the cause of many irritating dis- 
eases. Do not locate near large factories, especially 
such as use soft coal. For, not only will the constant 
noise and buzz of the machinery have an injurious 
effect on your nervous system, but also will many un- 
burnt particles of this coal pass out of the chimney, and 
inhaled into your lungs, produce serious disease, maybe, 
even consumption. 
Avoid very narrow streets, as you would the plague, 
for into them the sun can never thoroughly shine, and 
its presence is as necessary to healthy life as is food 
and water. I have told you a few of the things to be 
avoided ; I will now describe a typically healthy city 
location, and from it you can intelligently draw your COURT THE SUNSHINE. 
137 
conclusions in selecting a home. The nearer a location 
corresponds to this ideal one the healthier will it be, 
and vice versa. 
Suppose a well paved street, fifty feet wide, with 
houses on either side, and gardens between them. 
Let this street run north and south. Each house 
should be open back; it ought to have a good-sized 
back yard. See what you have. The morning sun 
will shine into the back and the afternoon sun into the 
front of the houses on the east side of this street, while 
those on the west side will receive it on the front in 
the morning and the rear in the afternoon. Thus, 
then, will every portion of such a house receive, some 
time during the day, the healthful influence of the 
sun’s rays. 
As an additional proof, if any is needed, to what I 
have already adduced, to show that fashion and health 
are in many cases antagonistic, I will cite the residen- 
ces of the fashionable people of our city. 
The majority of them are located on the south side 
of a street running east and west. The street is very 
narrow, and the sun, from one year’s end to another, 
never shines on the fronts of these houses. It is true, 
they are very open back, and there receive the morning 
sun; but the front part, that in which the family lives, 
never receives its rays. 
Too much stress cannot be laid on this point. You 
cannot have a location that is too sunny. During the 
middle of a hot summer day you can artificially shield 
yourself from the sun, but it will be all the time drying 
the walls of your house; while it will be impossible to 
avoid having a damp house if the sun does not shine 138 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
freely upon it, I care not how many furnace fires you 
may have. Therefore, in selecting a location, note 
these points. That there is plenty of sun. That the 
street is broad and clean. That there is no possibility 
of the results of organic decomposition or of injurious 
chemical or mineral elements being wafted into the 
house ; and if you find all these conditions correct, you 
can rent the house with safety, provided the following 
points are satisfactory. 
2. Arrangement, or Architecture of the House.—You 
must look for a house with amply large rooms, and so 
arranged that ventilation will be easily obtainable. 
There can be no doubt that a low square house is the 
healthiest; for in such a house, unless it is bounded on 
either side by other houses, windows and doors are to 
be found on every side. They are necessary for venti- 
lation ; you will soon learn that ventilation means the 
entrance of pure and the exit of foul air. So if you 
have windows and doors in every room, opposite to 
each other, it will be a very easy thing to secure good 
ventilation. 
Currents of air are like currents of all other kinds. 
You know that nature abhors a vacuum, and if she can 
help it, will not allow such a thing to exist. So, then, if 
you open a window in a room of a certain temperature, 
and open a door leading into another room of a higher 
temperature, the air from the first room will be drawn 
into the second, while fresh air from without will enter 
through the window, to take its place. These same 
currents are continually at work in the outside atmos- 
phere ; air cannot keep still, it must be always moving; 
therefore, if you only give it a chance, by having doors SECURE VENTILATION. 
139 
and windows opposite each other, it will ventilate your 
house. But suppose a room has only one window in 
a front wall, and one door in a wall running- at right 
angles to the front wall; see what occurs. When the 
pure air enters through the window, it keeps on straight 
ahead until it strikes the blank wall at the other end of 
the room. It then rebounds, and after a while a por- 
tion of it will manage to squirm around and get out 
of the side door; but in its headlong course, it will 
carry many of the impure particles in the room up 
against this wall, and will deposit them thereon, and 
while lazily wandering around, before it finds the out- 
of-the-way door, these heavy particles will gradually 
settle down lower and lower, on account of their own 
weight, until they finally settle on to the floor, from 
which they will be again stirred up into the atmosphere 
by walking about, and breathed into the body. These 
impurities do not become dissolved, but are only mixed 
in the atmosphere. You all know that, if allowed to 
stand for a while, the solid particles of a mixture will 
separate from the liquid and sink to the bottom of the 
bottle, leaving the pure fluid above. So it is with this 
air. If, when it rushes in a window, and seizes hold 
of the impurities of a room, to make a mixture of air 
and impure particles, it can get out again quickly, it 
will carry these particles with it; but if it finds its 
direct course stopped, and has to hunt around for a 
means of exit, time will be allowed for these particles 
to settle. 
This, in a nutshell, is the secret about ventilation, 
concerning which so much has been written. If you 
will allow air from without to freely enter and to easily 140 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
find a way out again, it will carry with it those impuri- 
ties that are prejudicial to health. 
If it could be so arranged, it would be well to have 
the kitchen on the top floor of the house. Thus all 
bad or unpleasant smells would ascend and be carried 
away, and could never pollute the dwelling portion of 
the house. 
Remember what I will say about the quantity of air 
requisite for each individual, in the chapter on ventila- 
tion, and when you look at a house, measure whether 
the different rooms are large enough to contain the 
required amount. 
Examine carefully into the condition of the cellar. 
Be sure it is not damp, and never occupy a house unless 
the cellar floor is cemented. I do not care how dry it 
may seem, nor how dry the landlord or his agent may 
tell you it is, all cellars must be damp. All earth con- 
tains water. It is necessary, it is universal. When 
bricks are first made from clay, they contain water. 
The sun and artificial heat bake them, it removes this 
water and makes them solid. The sun can never get 
at cellars, therefore the earthen floor must contain 
water. This of itself would not be injurious; but this 
earth also contains organic particles. When, then, in 
winter, the cellar is made warm by the heat from the 
furnace, or even as a result of the natural heat of the 
soil itself we have the three elements necessary for the 
production of organic poisons, viz., organic matter, heat 
and moisture. Organic decomposition ensues and 
malaria results. 
But, although these changes may take place, yet, if 
the cellar floor is cemented, they are rendered innocu- DRAINAGE. 
141 
ous, because they are imprisoned; they cannot rise up 
and be carried into the upper portions of the house. 
You are all familiar with the nasty, damp, foul odors 
that sometimes arise from cellars. If the floor is well 
cemented and the resulting smooth surface frequently 
washed, this will be unknown. 
The following mixture may be used for this cement- 
ing purpose, and it will render the cellar waterproof, 
viz.: coal tar and quick lime. 
These few words will convey to you all the import- 
ant and practical points that it is possible for a man to 
take into consideration when selecting a house already 
built, and will enable me to pass on to the discussion of 
3. Drainage.—Drainage is one of the most important 
considerations, if not the prime one, in selecting a 
house. Broadly and roughly speaking, it means the 
removal from the vicinity of man of all the matter that 
may in various ways be cast off from his body. A few 
more words about refuse matter and drainage will now 
be appropriate, in order that you may properly com- 
prehend the subject. 
The bowels of man are the human drain pipes. 
They receive and carry away from the body the tissue 
that has performed its duty, that is dead, worthless, and 
unfit to remain, the continued presence of which in the 
body would poison it. So, it might be said that the system 
of drainage commences inside of the human body, and 
ought to terminate far from the haunts of civilization, to 
be perfect; but to be practicable, I will say that this refuse 
matter from the body ought to be carried continuously 
along, without hindrance or stop, until it is deposited at 
a safe distance from the human individual. 142 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
To clearly illustrate the purposes of drainage, some 
space will be necessary, and I might as well discuss it 
here, since the mechanism, the main points of drainage, 
as well as the benefits to be derived from it, and the 
evil results of want of it, are the same in both city and 
country, although the measures resorted to to secure it 
differ, and will be discussed separately. 
In order that you may have a true conception of the 
purposes of drainage, it will be necessary to go back 
some distance, and commence at the very beginning. 
Food is taken into the system, because the body requires 
nourishment. In the stomach and upper portion of the 
bowels it is dissolved, digested and converted into 
nourishment suitable for the body. Absorbed into the 
blood, it is carried throughout the body, to nourish 
every portion thereof. In this necessity for food or 
nourishment, in this process of renewal, is to be found 
one of the differences between animal life and inorganic 
inactivity. If nourishment were refused to the body, 
it would die, you all know; but why ? When the body 
is fully formed, why can it not remain so, without any 
more nourishment? Because, as I have told you, every 
act of life entails, as the result of its performance, the 
destruction, or, to speak more literally (since mat- 
ter is indestructible) the alteration of the particles of 
tissue concerned in its performance. So, then, when 
these particles of tissue are called upon to execute any 
act of life, it matters not whether it be a contraction of 
a muscle in exercise, an effort of the brain in thought, 
or an involuntary contraction of the heart, they become 
so altered by the performance of this act that they 
are no longer suitable to form a part of the body. 143 
WASTE PRODUCTS. 
When coal is thrown into the furnace of an engine, 
it becomes a part of the machine that is to generate 
power, just as much so as bread and meat become a por- 
tion of the human machine. The coal is as necessary 
to the generation of steam force as food is to the produc- 
tion of vital force. But when the coal has done its duty, 
has yielded up its imprisoned force, it becomes useless. 
A portion of its latent power has been converted into 
a new force, which, with the power derived from water, 
is represented by steam and its manifestations. If the 
dead coal, or ashes, are allowed to remain in the furnace, 
they will clog it up and interfere with its future per- 
formances. So it is with human coal, or food. The 
various articles of diet taken into the body undergo a 
chemical change, just as the coal in the engine does, 
and as a result of this chemical change they are made 
suitable to furnish nourishment for the body. They 
become for a short time intimate and integral portions 
of it; but when, in the course of life, it becomes neces- 
sary for any part to use its resident vitality, and such 
occasions occur every moment of our existence, these 
elements are required to furnish the requisite force, 
and in doing so part with their vitality. They become 
human ashes. But they are not harmless and innocuous 
as coal ashes are. They are not simply the products 
of chemical disorganization of a mineral substance, but 
are, in addition, the dead elements of organic life. 
They are no longer fit to form an integral portion of 
the animal body, and, according to nature’s beautiful 
laws, will not again be so fit until they serve a probation, 
a purification, as it were, by a passage through and 
residence in vegetable life. 144 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
So, then, these useless particles must be removed. 
Here, in the most intimate recesses of the system, then, 
commences the system of drainage. Certain vessels 
pick up these dead and useless elements and carry 
them along, from smaller to larger, until finally they 
are brought to and removed from the body by the 
four great scavengers, the bowels, kidneys, skin and 
lungs. 
All four of these organs (for the skin must be con- 
sidered an organ, when viewed from its eliminatory 
standpoint) are intended in a prime degree to remove 
from the body its waste ; to act as drains. But when 
they have done their duty, they have only removed 
these elements from the body, and they leave them in 
a condition favorable for decomposition, a process that 
all organic bodies must undergo. 
When this decomposition takes place these elements 
become doubly poisonous, and if then taken back into 
the system, either in their solid form or as gases, they 
are capable of producing most serious disease. 
So, then, after the natural drainage has removed 
these poisons from the body, it becomes the necessity 
of what we commonly know as drainage, and which 
might be called artificial, to carry them far away, so 
that they cannot be again taken into the system. 
Thus, then, you can understand that everything that 
comes from the body, having once had life in your body, 
is unfit to remain in your vicinity and must be removed. 
Drainage means a system of pipes so constructed 
as to carry off all this waste. In cities, you all know 
that these pipes run from houses into sewers in the 
streets, and these sewers terminate in rivers. This is 145 
DISINFECTION. 
the only practicable way known to us at present of 
disposing of sewerage in large cities, where the quan- 
tity is so enormous. The end to be accomplished, and 
that nature does eventually succeed in doing, is to dis- 
infect this poisonous material, or in other words to so 
again alter it that its deleterious properties are de- 
stroyed, it is rendered innocent. 
The most effectual disinfectant we know of is earth. 
Were all the refuse of a city to be collected in a pit, 
and at certain intervals a quantity of earth were thrown 
into it, we would have no poisonous or bad air gener- 
ated from it. When an army goes into camp, they dig 
what are called sinks ; ditches, some sixteen feet long, 
six feet deep, and eighteen inches wide. The earth 
removed in digging this trench is piled up alongside of 
it; into this pit all refuse is thrown, and it becomes the 
duty of the police department of the camp to thor- 
oughly cover this excrement with earth, at stated inter- 
vals. It thus becomes mixed with and forms an 
integral portion of the soil, as nature intends it to do, 
and as it has once formed a portion of man. -After a 
while it furnishes nourishment to and it becomes a part 
of the grass; the cow eats it and it becomes a part of 
this animal; the man eats the cow and it again becomes 
a portion of the human being. This is the cycle of all 
material life. From one animal, through vegetable 
life, back again to animal existence; so it has been 
from the beginning of time and so it will ever con- 
tinue to be. 
When it is possible to so dispose of animal excreta, 
to immediately return it to the soil, then have we the 
most perfect means of drainage. 146 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
But in cities this is obviously impossible. Hence, 
must we resort to pipes. 
These outside iron pipes are intended to perform 
precisely the same duty that the inside human pipes do. 
To carry away this refuse matter. 
The matter from the bowels, the urine, the water in 
which the surface of the body is washed, all contain 
this dead tissue. So does the water in which the table 
dishes are washed; as well as that in which the cloth- 
ing soiled by the dead tissues from the body is 
renovated. 
This must all be removed from the vicinity of man, 
for a time, until purified by chemical changes, else it 
will poison him and produce disease. You now under- 
stand the purposes of drainage. How is it carried out ? 
Every modern house has its water-closets and sinks. 
From these run pipes, carrying the water into the main 
drain, running under the cellar floor, and emptying 
into the street drain, which in turn empties into the 
sewer, and these into a river. 
Very good in theory, but not so good in practice. 
These sewers in the street are very large. It takes a 
great deal of liquid to fill them. If they happen not to 
be full the circulation through them is sluggish. So 
that some of this dead organic matter remains in them 
and there decomposes. Then what happens. The 
result of this decomposition is to form injurious gases, 
which, on account of the natural tendency of gases to 
ascend, will find their way back through the pipes they 
have once passed through as solids or liquids, and un- 
less prevented, will emerge at the water-closet or wash- 
basin, to mingle with and poison the atmosphere of SEWER GAS. 
147 
the house. These gases you will recognize as the 
much talked of “ Sewer Gas," which is so potent a 
factor in the production of typhoid fever and other 
diseased conditions. 
Thus, then, you now understand the purposes and 
mechanism of drainage, and you know what sewer gas 
means. You can realize, strange as it may seem, that 
these very poisonous gases are generated by changes 
taking place in that very tissue that has at one time 
formed an integral portion of your body. When you 
realize how dangerous these superannuated and dead 
particles may become, you will naturally be more soli- 
citous to quickly remove them from your neighborhood. 
To facilitate the removal of this dead tissue, and to 
prevent the return of these gases, has been the design 
of scientific plumbing. 
A few words will explain how this is accomplished. 
A liberal supply of water (and there ought never 
to be a closet in a house unless there is a plentiful 
supply) will wash this excrement away and carry it 
into the sewers. But to prevent the return of the 
gases, something else is necessary, and for this pur- 
pose we have traps. A trap is a piece of pipe made 
something like the letter S. When the water comes 
from the upper portion, passes through the basin of 
the water-closet and going through this curved pipe, 
carries the excrement with it, a portion of the water 
remains in and fills up this curve. Hence, when the 
gases come back through the pipe and get to this 
trap, their further progress is arrested by this body of 
water, standing as a sentry between the lower pipes 
and the atmosphere of the room. But they do not 148 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
always act as they are supposed to do. If the closet is 
not frequently used, after a while this water will absorb 
some of these gases, and allowing them thus to pass 
through, will give them off from the upper end, when 
they are free to escape into the atmosphere of the 
house. 
In endeavoring to obviate this possible defect of the 
water-trap, many patent devices have been invented, 
but none have been found perfect, since these gases 
are very insinuating, and when they exist in any large 
quantity will manage to find their way through some 
unsuspected crack, crevice or opening. 
The best means to keep them out of the house, taken 
in connection with a well-made, ordinary water-trap, is 
the ventilating pipe. To insure safety this pipe must 
be used for this one purpose and for it alone. 
A pipe of iron or terra cotta, preferably the latter, 
should commence at some point in the main drain, run- 
ning from the house to the street main, and ought to 
be carried directly upward and terminate in an open 
end above the roof of the house. The opening of 
this ventilating pipe where it connects with the drain 
should be large, and its junction ought not to be at a 
right angle, but rather oblique. 
Here, you can see that the poisonous gases coming 
back from the sewer will turn up the ventilating pipe, 
since they are anxious to ascend, and if they do not 
avail themselves of this opening, they see a long stretch 
of level pipe before them, which is distasteful, since 
they are ambitious and desire to go up. 
Some persons use the rain-pipe for ventilating 
sewers; this is very wrong, because this pipe usually VENTILATING DRAINS. 
149 
commences at a gutter on the roof, just below the attic 
windows, so that this poisonous gas will be eliminated 
just where it can enter these windows and pollute the 
air of the house. Again, in rainy weather, the water 
running down these pipes will prevent the sewer gas 
from getting up, and will force it to come up to the 
traps. 
This pipe ought to be carried alongside but outside 
of the chimney. The heat of the chimney will thus 
warm the air in the pipe and cause an upward current. 
But it ought not to be inside, because if it happens to 
leak, its poisonous contents will escape into the chimney, 
and may, under certain conditions, be drawn down, 
and so into the house. 
Just here I will enumerate a fundamental rule about 
plumbing, for any of my readers who may ever build 
a house. You ought never to have any pipe, whether 
it be water, gas or drain, hidden from sight and inac- 
cessible. It would not, of course, be pleasant to have 
all your pipes sticking out where you could see them 
all the time; but you ought to lay them in boxes, with a 
door, so that they could be inspected at any time. 
Then, when you have any cause to suspect that your 
drainage is wrong, a thorough examination of all the 
pipes can and ought to be made. Very often the terra 
cotta drain running under the cellar floor will break and 
allow its poisonous contents to ooze out, saturating the 
cellar floor with poison that will rise into the house. If 
this drain were above ground such a break would be 
at once detected. 
If, then, you have a trap well constructed, and a 
separate ventilating pipe, you will be reasonably secure 150 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
from the dangers of sewer gas. But I would advise 
you not to rent a house without this safety valve or 
ventilating pipe. 
Prevention is better than cure, you all know. There- 
fore would it be much better to utilize such measures 
as would surely remove this decomposing material from 
your presence and allow the generation of the poison- 
ous gases to take place where they would be harmless. 
Such a plan I suggested in my work on “Malaria" 
which was, in substance, as follows. The erection of 
large reservoirs at suitable intervals, the establishment 
of a liberal number of fire plugs. Every morning 
early, for two hours, say from two until four, turn on 
these plugs and let the water flow from them continu- 
ously. A force of men with brooms, to sweep the streets. 
This would have the result of furnishing absolutely 
clean streets, while this great bulk of water flowing 
into the sewers would so fill them that all their con- 
tents would be hurried on to the river, and sewer gas 
could not be, because the conditions necessary for its 
development would not be present. Therefore it 
could not poison the air of houses, since it would not 
exist near them. 
But until these Utopian days come, sewer gas will 
exist, and we must endeavor to prevent its entrance 
into our houses. Therefore, you must pay particular 
attention to the two points I have indicated, viz.: good 
traps and ventilation of drains. Traps are very good 
as far as they go, and it would be well, in addition to 
having one on each water closet and basin pipe, to also 
have a large one on the main drain, just before it 
reaches the point at which the ventilating pipe starts. BEST COUNTRY LOCATION. 
151 
Many good works have been written on drainage, 
notably that by Colonel Waring, on “Sanitary Drain- 
age of Houses and Towns,” and to such I would refer 
those who are about building and desire the most 
recent knowledge on sanitary drainage. This book 
could not tell everything, but still it does give the im- 
portant points. Having now disposed of the really 
important questions concerning drainage in cities, it 
will be in order to discuss the same subject in its coun- 
try relations. With a little intelligent knowledge on 
the subject, the resident of the country has it much 
more under his control to remove these deleterious 
particles, and to prevent the return of sewer gas, than 
has the occupant of a city house, for the following 
obvious reasons : The accumulations of refuse organic 
matter ready to undergo decomposition are very much 
greater in a given space in the city than they would be 
in the same area in the country. The waste from a 
very large number of houses will enter into one sewer, 
when the probability of generation of sewer gas in 
quantity becomes very great. 
You cannot look into the sewer and see whether it 
is clean or not. But, into all the arrangements of 
your own individual house you can peer at all times, 
and can plainly see whether they are all right or not. 
In the first place, you must learn how to select a 
healthy location when going to live in the country. In 
a few words I can tell you how to do so. Leaving out 
of consideration all other points, and hunting merely 
for a healthy location, one that will not be malarious 
from dampness or bad drainage, the desideratum will 
be high ground. Not necessarily positively, but rela- 152 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE, 
tively high. It must be higher than the surrounding 
country, for this simple reason : If higher, naturally 
everything will drain away from it, while, if lower, the 
surrounding country will drain into it. 
A basin-like location will act as a cess-pool for the 
neighboring country, and into it will drain all your 
neighbor’s refuse matter. Such low land will answer 
very well for pasturage, but is altogether unfit for 
human habitation. 
Having now selected a high point upon which to 
locate your house, the same indications for drainage 
must be observed as are described for the city. You 
will require pipes running from every opening that re- 
ceives refuse matter, and well trapped, to terminate in 
the main drain in the cellar. But in the country you 
have no sewers into which this pipe can empty, so that 
you are compelled to provide some means of emptying 
it. 
By all odds, the very best country drainage that can 
be conceived would be the following, and it would for 
many reasons constitute an ideal location: If your 
house stands on a bluff or eminence, with a sharp de- 
scent to a swift flowing stream, three or four hundred 
yards away, then indeed can you have perfect drainage. 
By carrying your main down the hill and terminating 
it in this stream, below the surface, all refuse matter 
will rapidly flow down and into the water, when it will 
be carried away. If, however, you have neighbors 
further down, who derive their water supply from this 
same stream, then such drainage will be impracticable, 
since it would poison the water. 
Again, even if this objection does not exist, you must KITCHEN DRAINAGE. 
153 
be very careful to note whether this stream dries up 
in summer. If it does, your refuse matter will be de- 
posited on the bottom, exposed to the fierce rays of the 
sun, when it will decompose, and the resulting poison- 
ous gases be lifted up and carried toward your house 
whenever the wind happens to be blowing in that direc- 
tion. If there be no objection on the score of neigh- 
bors, and if there is sure to be plenty of water, even in 
the driest summer, then drain into this stream. The 
water flowing continually past the open end of the pipe 
will create a current that will tend to help the water 
from above to carry down the refuse. Never have a 
water-closet in a house, unless you are sure of a con- 
stant and plentiful supply of water. No matter how 
faultlessly your drainage may be arranged, if you can- 
not thoroughly wash down the pipes with water, sewer 
gas will generate in them and find its way back. Also 
have a separate pipe for your kitchen refuse (from the 
sink) from' that draining the closets and basins. 
Kitchen refuse, dish-water, and the like, is greasy; it 
contains particles of fat. I have known cases, where one 
pipe was made to serve both purposes, that the closet 
drainage became deranged, and upon investigation, it 
was found that these particles of fat had become solidi- 
fied into a jelly-like mass in the pipe, and thus inter- 
fered with the free passage of the refuse from the 
closets. 
If you have separate pipes, and this does occur 
in the kitchen drain, it will not be serious. Just here, 
a hint about the waste and overflow pipes from basins 
and bath tubs. The opening for the overflow pipe, 
you know, is high up on one end of the tub, and its 154 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
purpose is to allow the water to pass away, and not 
overflow the tub, if you have turned on the spiggots 
and then, going away, forget them. If a good plumber 
has done the work all will be well, but some ignorant 
men will allow these overflow pipes to terminate in the 
water-closet drain at a point below the trap, when, as 
you can understand, gases that cannot pass the trap 
will ascend these pipes and escape into the room 
through the overflow openings. 
Again, it is very important that, if you use tank water 
for drinking and cooking purposes, you should have 
two tanks, one for drinking and one for the washing 
out of the water closet. 
You can see that by having only one tank any sewer 
gas that may find its way past the trap and up into the 
basin of the water-closet will pass up the supply-pipe, 
into the tank, and mixing with the water there, will pass 
down the other pipe and pollute the water drawn from 
the spiggots at the sink for drinking or any other pur- 
pose. But if you have a separate tank for the water- 
closet, with a tight-fitting lid, this cannot happen. It 
would even be better, if possible, to draw the water for 
the closet from a separate well, because it is possible 
for the sewer gas to contaminate the water in the well, 
and so to poison the drinking water, even though 
separate tanks may be used. This is not to be appre- 
hended as a serious danger, since, if you have good 
traps and resort to the ventilating-pipe, very little if any 
sewer gas will be able to find its way back to the closet. 
Still, where one can afford it, and desires to use every 
precaution, separate wells, some distance from each 
other, will form additional safeguards. Do not allow DISTRIBUTION OF SEWAGE. 
155 
the main drain to run any nearer the well from which 
you get your drinking water than you can help. If 
you do, the pipe may break, when its contents will flow 
into the well and pollute the water. 
If the overflow-pipe from the tank runs into the 
drain, you must use the same precautions as for the 
overflow from the bath-tub; though it would be better 
for this pipe to empty into the rain-water pipe outside. 
As an additional protection against any sewer gas 
that may pass the trap entering the bath-room, and so 
becoming disseminated throughout the house, the fol- 
lowing simple device will prove very good:— 
If directly over the water-closet, on the wall, you 
have constantly, burning low, a lamp, and just above 
this commence the wide funnel-like opening of a tin 
pipe, which is then carried to and through the upper 
sash of the nearest window; see what occurs. The 
heat from this lamp constantly warms the air in 
its vicinity and creates an upward current. The foul 
gases that may arise from the closet are carried up by 
this current into and through the pipe, and are dis- 
charged out of doors. 
You now have a very fair notion of the arrangement 
of drain pipes and the dangers and disease that may 
result if this dead organic tissue is not thoroughly 
removed from your vicinity. 
I will now go on to the discussion of the final dis- 
tribution of this refuse matter when your location does 
not permit of its being emptied into a swift flowing 
stream. This organic debris will make very good ma- 
nure. By itself it is a little too rich, but when mixed and 
diluted it becomes very valuable in this connection. 156 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
Hence we are now reading of the sewage farms of 
Europe. 
I had a neighbor once, in the country, who always 
had earlier, larger and better vegetables in his truck 
garden than any one in the vicinity. We all wondered 
at this, since his soil seemed no better than ours. 
Finally his secret leaked out, and we were surprised to 
find that he was in the habit of dipping out of his cess- 
pool and watering his vegetables with this semi-liquid 
manure. It was truly astonishing to see how they 
jumped into maturity. 
From this we learn a lesson. Dig a well, some ten 
feet deep and about two or three hundred feet from 
your house, the further the better. Brick and cement 
the sides and bottom. Into this let your main drain 
empty. Let your stable manure accumulate alongside 
of this well. Sink a pump. Have a large pile of earth 
handy. Now, two or three times a week, let your man 
pump all the liquid out of this well into the manure 
heap, and over the top throw a light layer of earth. 
When the well becomes nearly full of solid matter, 
remove the covering (which ought to fit very tight), 
and bail or shovel out this solid excrement into the 
heap. Then throw over the whole mass a heavier 
layer of earth. This will accumulate a pile of manure 
that will delight the heart of the farmer, and, when 
spread over the ground, will most wonderfully enrich 
it. While, at the same time, you will be enabled to 
dispose of your refuse in a healthy way. 
Surface drainage, so commonly resorted to in the 
country, is such a terrible abomination, that I can only 
wonder how any one can resort to it, no matter how AVOID SURFACE DRAINAGE. 
157 
little knowledge of hygiene they may possess. I will 
tell you what it means, and I am very sure you will at 
once procure a longer pipe and dig a well. 
To tell you, I will describe the surface drainage of a 
house with which I am very familiar, and which will 
serve as a sample of the majority of medium country 
houses. The pipes inside were all well arranged, as 
I have indicated, and when they converged into the 
main this left the house, and after running for about 
thirty or forty feet under ground, its open mouth 
discharged the contents right on the surface of the 
ground. 
The theory here was, that the refuse, coming down 
in a semi-solid condition, would flow down the descent 
upon the side of which the pipe emptied, and in its 
downward course would gradually soak into the earth. 
But, in the practical fulfillment of this theory, there 
will be found several hitches. 
In the first place, there is what chemists wall call a 
“point of saturation.” A time comes when the soil 
around the open mouth of this pipe becomes so satur- 
ated, so full of this refuse, that it will be unable to 
absorb any more; when some of the surplus will flow 
further down the hill, while the balance will remain on 
the surface around the pipe, and there undergo decom- 
position. Again, around this opening will be found 
weeds; now, naturally, some of the solid particles will 
become entangled in these weeds, and will be held 
there on the surface. The sun will beat down on them, 
they will decompose, and in the form of poisonous 
gases they will be wafted back into the house they have 
but just left as poisonous solids. 158 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
The question of drainage you will now sufficiently 
understand to enable you to intelligently remove from 
your presence what is, beyond all doubt, the most in- 
sidious and dangerous enemy of health and long life, 
gases of decomposition. In concluding this chapter, a 
few words on the arrangement of houses and grounds 
may assist any one having the intention of building. 
Bricks are porous, and will allow air to pass through 
them; so also will brown stone ; while granite, slate and 
marble are impervious. Therefore, realizing, as you 
now do, the necessity for all the air you can get, you 
will think it wise to build of bricks or brown stone. 
Wall papers are impervious to air and they will absorb 
dead organic matter in considerable amount. There- 
fore are they not to be commended. A house that is 
painted inside, or finished in natural woods, will be, not 
only much handsomer, but much healthier. 
Although not relished by the male portion of the 
community, yet repeated house-cleanings are very 
necessary. You can understand, when you realize how 
much organic refuse accumulates, how necessary it is 
to remove it. 
Large windows and large doors will help much to 
make a healthy house. You cannot have them too 
wide and too high. You remember what I said about 
tent life. The larger you make your openings, the 
nearer will your house approach a tent. It will also, 
even when the windows are closed, enable a plentiful 
supply of sun and light to enter. It has been said in 
some works on hygiene, that the water-closet ought to 
be located in an annex, separated from the house by a 
passage-way, ventilated by windows on either side. AN IDEAL HOUSE. 
159 
While this would be an extra precaution, and would be 
the wisest plan, yet it is not comfortable, since what 
could be more pleasant than to have the comforts of 
bath and closet in a small room adjoining the sleeping 
apartment. 
I believe (and would practice what I preach) that, if 
all the precautions laid down were faithfully carried out, 
and frequent examinations made, to see that nothing 
goes wrong, no injury to health would result from this 
proximity of the closet. To repeat, sewer gas has no 
business to exist near the house, and if you will use 
common sense, now that you know how it is generated, 
it will be a stranger. Remove the material from which 
it is made and it cannot be. 
Of all rooms in the house, make your nursery large, 
bright and cheerful in every respect. Realizing how 
important surroundings will be to your young and 
growing children, make their surroundings of the 
pleasantest possible character. 
For the benefit of the rich who desire to erect an 
ideal sanitary house, I will quote the following direc- 
tions from an address entitled “ Hygeia” by Dr. Ben- 
jamin Ward Richardson, of England. This idea will, 
of course, be opposed diametrically to the present plan 
of building, but, in his address, Dr. Richardson is de- 
scribing an ideal city, such a city as would represent the 
most perfect type of healthy arrangement, while at the 
same time such a house is capable of being erected by 
any one desiring to do so: “ Whatever disadvantages 
might spring, in other places, from a retention of water 
on a clay soil, is here met by the plan that is followed, 
of building every house on arches of solid brick work. 160 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
So, where in other towns there are areas, and kitchens, 
and servants’ offices, there are here sub-ways, through 
which the air flows freely, and down the incline of 
which all currents of water are carried away.” “ It will 
be seen, from what has already been told, that in this 
our model city there are no underground cellars, 
kitchens or other caves, which, worse than those an- 
cient British caves that Nottingham can still show the 
antiquarian as 'the once fastnesses of her savage chil- 
dren, are even now the loathsome residences of many 
millions of our domestic and industrial classes. There 
is not permitted to be one room under ground. The 
living part of every house begins on the level of the 
street. The houses are built of a brick that has the fol- 
lowing sanitary advantages : It is glazed and quite im- 
permeable to water, so that during wet seasons the 
walls of the houses are not saturated with tons of water, 
as is the case with so many of our present residences. 
The bricks are perforated transversely, and at the end 
of each there is a wedge opening, into which no mor- 
tar is inserted, and by which all the openings are al- 
lowed to communicate with each other. The walls are 
in this manner honeycombed, so that there is in them 
a constant body of common air, let in by side openings 
in the outer wall, which openings can be changed at 
pleasure, and, if required, can be heated from the fire 
grates of the house. The bricks intended for the 
inside wall of the house, those which form the walls of 
the rooms, are glazed in different colors, according to 
the taste of the owner, and are laid so neatly that the 
after adornment of the walls is considered unnecessary 
and, indeed, objectionable. By this means those most AN IDEAL HOUSE. 
161 
unhealthy parts of household accommodation, layers of 
mouldy paste and size, layers of poisonous paper, or 
layers of absorbing color stuff or distemper, are en- 
tirely done away with. The walls of the room can be 
made clean at any time by the simple use of water, and 
the ceilings, which are turned in light arches of thinner 
brick, or tile, colored to match the wall, are open to the 
same cleansing process. The color selected for the 
inner brick work is gray, as a rule, that being most 
agreeable to the sense of sight; but various tastes pre- 
vail, and art so soon ministers to taste, that, in the 
houses of the wealthy, delightful patterns of work of 
Pompeian elegance are soon introduced. 
“As with the bricks, so with the mortar and the wood 
employed in building, they are rendered, as far as possi- 
ble, free from moisture. Sea sand, containing salt, and 
wood that has been saturated with sea water, two com- 
mon commodities in badly built houses, find no place in 
our modern city. 
“The most radical changes in the houses of our city 
are in the chimneys, the roofs, the kitchens, and the ad- 
joining offices. The chimneys, arranged after the man- 
ner proposed by Mr. Spencer Wells, are all connected 
with central shafts, into which the smoke is drawn, and, 
after being passed through a gas furnace to destroy the 
free carbon, is discharged colorless into the open air. 
The city, therefore, at the expense of a small smoke 
rate, is free of raised chimneys and of the intolerable 
nuisance of smoke. 
“The roofs of the houses are but slightly arched, and 
are, indeed, all but flat. They are covered either with 
asphalte, which experience out of our supposed city has 162 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
proved to last long and be easily repaired, or with flat 
tile. The roofs, barricaded round with iron palisades, 
tastefully painted, make excellent out-door grounds for 
every house. In some instances flowers are cultivated 
on them. 
“The housewife must not be shocked when she hears 
that the kitchens of our model city, and all the kitchen 
offices, are immediately beneath these garden roofs ; are, 
in fact, in the upper floor of the house, instead of the 
lower. In every point of view, sanitary and economical, 
this arrangement succeeds admirably. The kitchen is 
lighted to perfection, so that all uncleanliness is at once 
detected. The smell which arises from cooking is never 
disseminated through the rooms of the house. In con- 
veying the cooked food from the kitchen, in houses 
where there is no lift, the heavy weighted dishes have 
to be conveyed down, the emptied and lighter dishes 
up stairs. The hot water from the kitchen boiler is dis- 
tributed easily, by conducting-pipes, into the lower 
rooms, so that in every room and bed-room hot and 
cold water can at all times be obtained for washing or 
cleansing purposes ; and as on every floor there is a 
sink for receiving waste water, the carrying of heavy 
pails from floor to floor is not required. The scullery, 
which is by the side of the kitchen, is provided with a 
copper and all the appliances for laundry-work; and 
when the laundry-work is done at home the open place 
on the roof above makes an excellent drying ground. 
“ In the wall of the scullery is the upper opening to 
the dust-bin shaft. This shaft, open to the air from the 
roof, extends to the bin under the basement of the 
house. A sliding door in the wall opens into the shaft AN IDEAL HOUSE. 
163 
to receive the dust, and this plan is carried out on 
every floor. The coal-bin is off the scullery, and is 
ventilated into the air through a separate shaft, which 
also passes through the roof.” 
“On the landing, in the second or middle stories 
of the three-storied houses, there is a bath-room, 
supplied with hot and cold water from the kitchen 
above. The floor of the kitchen and of all the 
upper stories is slightly raised in the centre, and is 
of smooth, gray tile ; the floor of the bath-room is 
the same. In the living-rooms, where the floors are 
of wood, a true oak margin of floor extends two feet 
around each room. Over this no carpet is ever laid. 
It is kept bright and clean by the old-fashioned bees- 
wax and turpentine, and the air is made fresh and is 
ozonized by the process.” 
“Considering that a third part of the life of man is, 
or should be, spent in sleep, great care is taken with 
the bed-rooms; so that they shall be thoroughly lighted, 
roomy and ventilated.” “To facilitate communication 
between the kitchen and the entrance-hall, so that 
articles of food, fuel and the like may be carried up, a 
shaft runs in the partition between two houses, and 
carries a basket-lift, in all houses that are above two 
stories high. Every heavy thing to and from the 
kitchen is thus carried up and down, from floor to 
floor, and from the top to the basement, and much 
unnecessary labor is thereby saved.” “A flight of 
outer steps leads to the upper or kitchen floor.” 
“ The warming and ventilation of the houses is 
carried out by a common and simple plan. The cheer- 
fulness of the fireside is not sacrificed; there is still the 164 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
open grate in every room, but at the back of the fire- 
stove there is an air-box, or case, which, distinct from 
the chimney, communicates by an opening with the 
outer air, and by another opening with the room. 
When the fire in the room heats the iron receptacle, 
fresh air is brought in from without, and is diffused 
into the room at the upper part.” 
“As each house is complete within itself, in all its ar- 
rangements, those disfigurements called back premises 
are not required There is a wide space, consequently, 
between the back fronts of all houses; which space is, 
in every instance, turned into a garden square, kept in 
neat order, ornamented with flowers and trees, and 
furnished with playgrounds for children, young and old. 
“ The houses being built on arched sub-ways, great 
convenience exists for conveying sewage from, and for 
conducting water and gas into, the different domiciles. 
All pipes are conveyed along the sub-ways, and enter 
each house from beneath. Thus the mains of the 
water-pipe and the mains of the gas are within instant 
control on the first floor of the building, and a leakage 
from either can be immediately prevented. The officers 
who supply the commodities of gas and water have ad- 
mission to the sub-ways, and find it most easy and eco- 
nomical to keep all that is under their charge in perfect 
repair. The sewers of the houses run along the floors 
of the sub-ways, and are built in brick. They empty 
into three cross main sewers. They are trapped for 
each house, and as the water-supply is continuous, they 
are kept well flushed. In addition to the house-flush- 
ings there are special openings into the sewers, by 
which, at any time, under the direction of the sanitary AN IDEAL HOUSE. 
165 
officer, an independent flushing can be carried out. 
The sewers are ventilated into tall shafts, from the 
mains, by means of a pneumatic engine. 
“The water-closets in the houses are situated on the 
middle and basement floors. The continuous water- 
supply flushes them without danger of charging the 
drinking water with gases emanating from the closet; 
a danger so imminent in the present method of cisterns, 
which supply drinking as well as flushing water.” 
This lengthy extract will be excusable, on the ground 
that it depicts a perfect house, and yet one that can 
be erected by any person. Such a building, on a 
healthy site, can contain in itself no causes of disease, 
and can only become contaminated from some imper- 
fections in the residences of your neighbors. 
By this plan, the house can be also made much more 
comfortable and much handsomer. 
The mind can be tranquil, and worriment a stranger, 
since you can calmly sit down, assured that you have 
the most thoroughly healthy house that the mind of 
man can conceive. 
Since there is no necessity to sacrifice comfort and 
beauty in building such a home, I must urge all 
about to build to take this plan seriously into con- 
sideration. 166 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
CHAPTER VI. 
VENTILATION, AIR AND RESPIRATION. 
Since an abundant supply of pure air is an absolute 
necessity of healthy life, I will now tell you something 
about ventilation. 
Ventilation is one of the most important, and at the 
same time one of the most neglected agents in the pre- 
vention of disease, the maintenance of health, and the 
attainment of old age. The vast majority of persons 
know little and care still less about it. In the excep- 
tional cases, where its importance is realized and it is 
sought after, its good effects are neutralized by wrong 
ideas and want of knowledge, so that instead of secur- 
ing the good effects of plenty of fresh air, the evil 
results of exposure to cold air and draughts are expe- 
rienced. Ventilation simply means the presence of a 
sufficient quantity of pure and life-sustaining air. It 
does not necessitate the air being cold or entering the 
room in perceptibly strong currents. On the contrary, 
a draught is nothing more than a rapid current of air, 
and even the most ignorant person has sense enough 
to know that he ought to avoid draughts. 
Now, let me tell you why ventilation is so important. 
No sane person for one minute imagines that he can live 
without food; it is just as impossible to live without 
oxygen. In the chapter on alcohol I will tell you how 
oxygen purifies the blood in the lungs, and how it is the 
agent which gives power to act, through the agency of OFFICE OF OXYGEN. 
167 
the nervous system, to all those functions which con- 
stitute life. I will now tell you that it is one of the 
most important agents in removing from the body 
those dead and decayed particles whose presence in 
the system is prejudicial to health and inimical to long 
life. Many of these particles are carried in the blood 
into the lungs, in the form of carbon. If this carbon 
finds plenty of oxygen in the lungs (which will be the 
case if we breathe pure air), it unites with it to form 
carbonic acid, which is thrown out of the lungs in ex- 
piration. Again, the union of carbon and oxygen gen- 
erates heat (just as it does in the stove), by which 
means the proper temperature of the body is main- 
tained. You can now plainly see how necessary oxy- 
gen is. Then, let me tell you, that ventilation means 
nothing more than a proper amount of oxygen in the 
air which we breathe. 
The principal ingredients of atmospheric air are 
oxygen and nitrogen. Oxygen ought to exist in the 
proportion of twenty-one parts in every hundred. The 
other seventy-nine consist of nitrogen, which merely 
serves to dilute the oxygen. Pure oxygen is too strong 
for ordinary use ; it would cause such a combustion in 
the body that our stock of vital power would soon 
be consumed. Those who have read Jules Verne’s 
sketch of Doctor Ox will be able to understand what I 
mean. His story is based on an exaggerated idea of 
this stimulating effect of oxygen. Dr. Ox secretly 
introduces this gas among the inhabitants of a quiet 
Dutch town. Its effects in vitalizing and quicken- 
ing all the actions of the heavy, slow, phlegmatic 
people of the town are very amusingly told. Of 168 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
course, I do not mean to say that oxygen will pro- 
duce all the effects that this Frenchman’s imagination 
has depicted, but, in a very much less degree, it would 
do so. 
The injurious effects from the presence of carbonic 
acid in the atmosphere will be understood when I tell 
you that if air contains more than six parts of this 
poisonous compound in every ten thousand, it is not 
fit for use and will poison the system. 
From what I have already said, you will understand 
that carbonic acid gets into the atmosphere as a result 
of the decay of tissue. You will, very naturally, ask, 
what becomes of the enormous quantities of it thus 
generated ? Here comes into play one of the many 
beautiful laws of nature. This gas, so very injurious 
to animal life, is the very food which vegetable life 
demands. Let us follow one hundred parts of atmos- 
pheric air in its journey and you will better under- 
stand me. We inspire, and the air rushes into our 
lungs, containing, as I have said, twenty-one per cent, 
of oxygen and seventy-nine per cent, of nitrogen. Five- 
per cent, of this oxygen passes into the blood, while at 
the same time an equal proportion of carbon leaves 
the blood and unites with some of the oxygen in the 
lungs, to form carbonic acid. When we expire, this 
gas is thrown out into the surrounding atmosphere. 
The vegetable life about us is hungry, and it immedi- 
ately pounces upon this expired air and greedily absorbs 
the carbon, leaving the oxygen free and pure, and 
ready to be again inspired. 
The average man will require three thousand cubic 
feet of air every hour, to maintain perfect health. A QUANTITY OF PURE AIR NEEDED. 
169 
room ten feet square and ten feet high will contain one 
thousand cubic feet. Natural ventilation, that is to say, 
by means of the window and door cracks, the porous 
walls, etc., will change and purify this air three times in 
the course of an hour. So that, in order to have a 
proper supply of oxygen, each individual should have 
a space ten feet square and ten feet high. If special 
means of ventilation are in use, this air will be changed 
six times in the course of an hour, thus giving us six 
thousand cubic feet, so that it would then be safe for 
two persons to occupy a room of the dimensions given 
above. 
It is particularly necessary for children to have a 
sufficient supply of oxygen, because during their 
period of growth they are laying the foundation for 
their future life. As the twig is bent, so the tree will 
grow. If, during childhood, attention is given to their 
hygienic surroundings, they will grow into strong men 
and women, while, in many cases, any hereditary ten- 
dency to disease which may have been born in them 
will be stamped out. But if neglected, and an insuffi- 
cient amount of pure air furnished them, they will grow 
into maturity, weak and sickly, while the development 
of hereditary disease in any weak organ or part will be 
much favored. Therefore, let me impress upon par- 
ents and guardians the necessity of a personal inspec- 
tion of the school to which they intend sending children 
under their charge. If the school-room has not the im- 
proved methods of ventilation, they should make a cal- 
culation of the number of pupils, and of the number of 
cubic feet contained in the room in which this number 
of pupils will be confined, and if the result does not 170 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
show one thousand cubic feet of space for each pupil, 
let them look further, for a school that does. If improved 
methods of ventilation are in use, five hundred cubic 
feet will be sufficient for each child. While these 
amounts may possibly be a little more than is abso- 
lutely necessary to support a fair state of health, yet 
they represent a good standard, since in a matter so 
important as pure air we cannot allow our children too 
much; and in this instance a great deal too much of a 
good thing is decidedly preferable to even a very small 
departure on the other side. 
Ventilation consists in an inlet for pure and an outlet 
for foul air. Many persons are so extremely sensitive 
to cold air that every window and door must be tightly 
closed as soon as a cool day comes. This morbid sen- 
sitiveness to cold, let me tell such persons, is a result 
of the bad habit of breathing impure air which they 
have contracted. By constantly taking into the lungs 
an impure atmosphere they have so interfered with the 
natural combustion of the body, and consequently 
the production of a proper amount of internal 
heat, their systems have become so vitiated and 
their bodily temperature fallen so low, that an outside 
temperature which would be only delightfully pleasant 
and bracing to a vigorous person, becomes to them 
positively cold and disagreeable. They sit in rooms 
almost hermetically sealed, breathing again and again 
the carbonic acid given out from their bodies, and in 
addition to this, inhaling also the same poisonous gas 
given off from the fire in the stove, which must remain 
to vitiate the atmosphere of the room, because every- 
thing is so tightly closed that it cannot escape. Let HOW TO VENTILATE. 
171 
such persons take a long walk in the country on a cool, 
bracing day in October or November, and I will stake 
my reputation that, if they are blessed with common 
sense, they will not return to the close room and foul 
stove until some extreme necessity for it arises. In the 
chapter on alcohol, I will tell you also that the excessive 
use of alcohol will so lower the natural temperature of 
the body as to make one very susceptible to cold. Air 
which has been used in the lungs is warmer than pure 
air, therefore it is lighter, and consequently will ascend. 
Hence your inlet for pure air must be low down, while 
the outlet for foul air should be near the ceiling. By 
elevating the lower and lowering the upper sash of a 
window, you can see how an inlet and an outlet may 
be procured. Let me say, parenthetically, that I am 
not writing this chapter for those who have the means 
to build and live in a house of their own selection. 
Such persons, blessed by intelligence, will, when plan- 
ning a house, make a special study of the subject of 
ventilation, and secure all the latest improvements. 
But I am trying to assist the large majority of my 
fellow creatures, who must of necessity, and do, live 
in rented houses, or in houses built many years ago, 
when comparatively little of scientific ventilation was 
known. I am helping that large class of persons who, 
not having all they would desire, must, perforce, make 
the best of the limited facilities which they do possess. 
To continue, be careful not to have your bed in close 
proximity to this window, for if you do, you will be in a 
draught. I once saw an exceedingly severe case of 
lumbago developed in an overly zealous advocate of 
ventilation, by sleeping immediately beneath an open 172 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
window on a windy night. Be careful, also, not to have 
a second window or a door opened in such a position 
as to cause a current of air from the first window to 
pass over the bed in which you are sleeping. Remem- 
ber that you may suffer bad effects from a draught that 
you do not feel. 
I would recommend every one, even the most deli- 
cate, to provide some means for the ingress of fresh air 
into their sleeping rooms. 
The following pertinent remarks are from the Phreno- 
logical Journal, they are headed “ That Bed-Room:"— 
“ What about it? Well, a good many things might 
be said. It ought to be a place for quiet and refresh- 
ing sleep. But it is not. Restless tossings with 
troubled dreams are there. Morning after morning 
finds the sleeper weary, listless and dumpish. He 
wonders why it is so, and we wonder too. But our 
wonder is that he does not make it a matter of thought, 
and learn how to sleep as he should. When anything 
is wrong with us, there is a cause for it. After all, that 
particular bed-room does not differ materially from 
many others of its kind. Twelve feet long, ten feet 
wide, and seven feet six inches high, it has a capacity 
of nine hundred cubic feet. It has a door opening 
into the next room, and another opening into the hall 
leading into the stairway and hall below. One large 
window, with sash supported by pulleys and weights, 
affords, or ought to afford, air and light from out-doors. 
The fourth wall is solid. The bed stands in a corner, 
with the head to this wall. Two walls confine the ex- 
haled air about the head of the sleeper. The breath 
of the sleeper is doubly foul, from late and full suppers, HOW TO VENTILATE. 
173 
and from ulceration of the respiratory membrane, 
caused by chronic catarrh. 
In such a case, good ventilation is more than a usual 
necessity. Is it attended to ? Take a peep at that 
room. Doors shut; windows carefully closed, to keep 
out night air. And yet this is a nice bed-room, gen- 
teelly furnished. If good sleeping is not done there, 
the failure is less chargeable to the room than to its 
management. How many cases of the kind have you 
piet with ? ” 
I do not intend here to treat scientifically of house 
ventilation. If you are about building a home, and desire 
to introduce into it improved methods of ventilation, 
I will refer you to the numerous works on ventilation, 
where you will find the question fully presented. This 
work would be rendered fatiguingly long if I were to 
treat of all the subjects contained in an exhaustive 
manner; so I merely throw out hints for your guidance, 
sign-posts, as it were, on the road to longevity. Venti- 
lation in summer time is simple enough. We open 
our windows and doors in order to receive cool air 
into the house, and as a matter of course, the pure air 
from without enters in sufficient quantity; but when 
the cold, blustery, windy days of winter come upon us, 
we fasten our windows and doors, and close up every 
crack and crevice with weather-strips, so that it is im- 
possible for any appreciable amount of pure air to get 
in, while at the same time the foul air is enclosed, and 
we are compelled to breathe and re-breathe air devoid 
of pure oxygen and full of carbon and other impuri- 
ties. Weather-strips are very good inventions; I 
would recommend every one to use them, unless 174 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
their door and window-frames fit very closely; if they 
do not, they will have dangerous draughts entering 
their houses, and it will be next to impossible to keep 
the rooms warm. But at the same time, you must pro- 
vide some means for the ingress of fresh air. This 
can be safely accomplished by means of a ventilating 
flue placed in the wall, with its inlet low down. But 
here let me give you a caution. Do not let the air 
enter your ventilating flue from the cellar ; if you do 
your supply will be more or less damp, it will contain 
coal dust and a variegated assortment of cellar impuri- 
ties ; to prevent this, carry a pipe or tight wooden box 
from the outside of your house, through a cellar win- 
dow, and supply the air to your ventilating flue by this 
means. To go back to window ventilation; if you do 
not occupy your own house, and live in a rented one, 
into which ventilating flues have not been introduced, 
remember that you can obtain a good supply of fresh 
air by raising a window, a very little. This may seem 
like repetition, but unfortunately, in these matters of 
health it becomes necessary to repeat, and repeat 
again, the smallest points, in order to get human na- 
ture to act on them. If you tell a man how to make 
money, he remembers what you say and acts upon it, 
and does not forget it; but when you tell him how to 
preserve his health, he is very prone to forget what 
you have said, in the all-absorbing topics of more tem- 
poral interest to him, particularly if he be in good 
health at the time of receiving this information. Sick 
men are very willing, as a rule, to obey the doctor, and 
to do anything to improve their health. But men in 
health are very apt to disregard the very rules which HOW TO VENTILATE. 
175 
are sure to enable them to preserve their health. You 
remember the old saying:— 
“When the Devil was sick, the Devil a monk would be , 
When the Devil got well, the devil a monk was he.” 
I once knew a gentleman who for years complained 
of ill health. During six years he must have consulted 
ten physicians. They all gave him good advice, which 
he neglected to follow. None of them really discov- 
ered what was the matter with him. He himself 
believed that he was suffering from dyspepsia, and 
considering this trouble so trivial, he neglected to fol- 
low the advice received, which, as it turned out, would 
have benefited him. Finally he discovered that he 
had a fatal and incurable disease. He was ordered a 
certain course of life, and when asked if he would fol- 
low it, answered, “ certainly, I will do anything, I will 
eat ten-penny nails, if necessary to cure me.” When he 
found that he was fatally diseased he was willing to do 
anything, but when he thought he only had dyspepsia, 
he wanted to and did do just as he chose. Therefore, 
I say, to make man live as he ought, it is absolutely 
necessary to reiterate over and over again that which 
he ought to do, until, by making these rules as familiar 
to him as his alphabet, you keep them ever before him, 
so that he cannot possibly forget them, and plead 
ignorance as excuse for his disregard of the laws of 
longevity. 
To again return to window ventilation : a very slight 
elevation of the sash, a very small crack, will allow the 
entrance of a considerable quantity of air, while you 
can so sit as to avoid any draught that may come from 
this window, while it would be almost impossible to 176 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
avoid being in a draught if air was entering all the 
windows and doors. 
Now, while the pure air is coming in, you must not 
neglect to have an outlet for the foul and impure air. 
As I have told you, air which has been once inspired is 
warmer, and consequently lighter, than pure air, and, as 
a matter of course, it will ascend; therefore, your outlet 
must be near the ceiling. If you are using a stove, or 
an open grate or wood fire in your room, you will not 
need any other outlet for the impure air. Let us fol- 
low a certain bulk of air, and you will better understand 
the fundamental point of ventilation. It comes in, let 
us say, at the window or ventilating flue, pure and cool. 
You take it into your lungs and it becomes warm; you 
expire it warmer and lighter than the surrounding air 
in the room, consequently it rises toward the ceiling, 
and carries its impurities (acquired in the lungs) with 
it. After hovering about near the ceiling for a while, 
it becomes cool, consequently heavier than the new 
volume of warm air (which in turn is rising), and by 
its own weight descends acrain toward the floor. The 
fire in your stove or open fire place heats the air in its 
immediate vicinity, renders it lighter than the surround- 
ing air, and consequently it ascends through the stove 
pipe and is carried out of the house through the 
chimney, while nature, abhorring a vacuum, will 
draw in and cause to pass out in the same way 
the volume of air which has descended from the 
ceiling and is hovering about the stove, waiting 
its turn to escape into the chimney, and carry its 
load of carbon to the outside vegetable world, hungrily 
waiting to devour it. So, by this means a constant HOW TO VENTILATE. 
177 
circulation of pure air can be obtained with very little 
trouble and no extra expense. Let every one hang a 
reliable thermometer in the room, and see that the 
temperature never exceeds or falls below 70° Fah. 
With this temperature, some persons will feel cold; if 
they do, they can rely upon it that one of the two fol- 
lowing conditions must exist: either they are not in 
vigorous health, or they have accustomed themselves 
to an unhealthily high temperature, and the sooner 
they come down to a healthy standard, the bet- 
ter. Many intelligent persons who try their ut- 
most to live properly and to conform to all known 
sanitary rules, consider it absolutely necessary to 
have the windows in their sleeping-rooms wide open 
at night. Unless your bed-room is unusually small, or 
an unexceptionally large number of persons occupy it, 
this procedure is not only unnecessary, but absolutely 
injurious. Unnecessary, because, as I have told you, 
a room ten feet square and ten feet high will contain a 
sufficient quantity of air for one person, and natural 
ventilation without any open windows will change this 
air three times in the course of an hour, so that one 
person might sleep in such a room and have plenty of 
pure air without opening the windows; and dangerous, 
because, a wind-storm blowing up suddenly in the night 
might cause an injurious draught to rush through 
your room and sweep over the bed on which you are 
unconsciously sleeping. If, therefore, your room con- 
tains one thousand cubic feet for each sleeper, do not, 
at most, do more than slightly lower the upper sash, so 
that the impure air may get out. In the morning, 
when you leave your room, throw wide open all the 178 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
windows and hang the bed-clothing near them, so that 
the room may be thoroughly ventilated and all impuri- 
ties from your bodies which may have accumulated on 
the blankets and sheets during the night may be thor- 
oughly swept away before they are again used. 
It is a matter of great importance that churches and 
public halls should be well ventilated, and a few words 
on this subject may result in much good. When a 
large number of persons are gathered together for 
religious worship or amusement, the dead matter given 
off from their bodies must be very great. For a time 
these small particles float about in the air of the room. 
If now the windows on both sides of the church are 
thrown wide open, a current of air crosses the building, 
and seizing these particles drives them out. But if the 
windows are not opened for some days, the specks, by 
their own weight, sink to the floor, so that when the 
windows are at last thrown open, the current of air 
passes over these impurities and cannot remove them. 
But when the congregation again assembles, the feet 
of the men and the dresses of the ladies will raise these 
rotten particles from the floor, and they will once more 
float about in the air, to be inhaled by and poison the 
human beings there assembled. Therefore, on Sunday 
evening, after the last service, every window in the 
church should be opened wide and left so until the 
next service. This opens up to us a new idea of the 
uses of ventilation. Besides furnishing oxygen and 
removing the foul air from our lungs, ventilation is de- 
signed to remove all bad elements whose presence in 
the air would be injurious. Many eminent writers 
on hygiene say that they would prefer to have a water- HOW TO VENTILATE. 
179 
closet immediately adjoining the sleeping-room, pro- 
vided such closet were well ventilated, than to have it 
located in some remote corner of the house, and not 
ventilated. Therefore, you can see how much import- 
ance sanitarians attach to ventilation. Since the air 
of a house can be rendered foul and unfit to sustain 
healthy life by so many and such unsuspected causes, 
it becomes absolutely necessary that we should provide 
means of ventilation at all times, whether we have rea- 
son to suspect foul air or not. For your guidance, I will 
enumerate a few of the least prominently recognized 
causes of bad air; premising that, all air impurities 
must arise from organic decomposition, or from me- 
chanical ingredients; principally, and the most danger- 
ous class, from the former. To say nothing about 
sewer gas, of which you hear so much, let me mention 
decomposing slops at the kitchen door, uncovered 
chambers in your bed-room, wet diapers hung up to 
dry by the heater, dirty clothes in closets, slop jars in 
bed-rooms, and so on I might go with a very long list; 
but suffice it to say, since I am addressing intelligent 
persons, that any dead organic matter must decompose, 
and when doing so must render the surrounding air 
impure. Now, then, ventilation will remove all this 
impure air, and substitute for it pure and wholesome 
atmosphere. I need say no more; I am sure you can 
understand now why ventilation is so necessary ; you 
know what it means, and how to secure it. In a few 
words the whole subject of ventilation might be summed 
up, and I would put it thus: Ventilation means the removal 
of foul and the substitution of pure air. Before con- 
cluding, one word on water-closet ventilation, which I 
wish to impress on you, since, of course, sewer gas is 180 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
by far the most deadly of all atmospheric impurities. I 
do not care how well your closets are ventilated, I 
would urge upon every one the adoption of the follow- 
ing cheap and simple precaution : In the majority of 
bath-rooms the light (be it gas or lamp) is located just 
over the water-closet; well, have a tinsmith make you 
a tin pipe about i x/2 inches in diameter, terminating at 
one end in a large funnel-shaped opening. Suspend 
this opening over the light, and carry the pipe through 
some portion of the frame of the upper window sash, 
letting it terminate exteriorly in a vertical direction. 
Keep your light burning low constantly. The heat 
from the gas or lamp will warm the air in its immediate 
vicinity, and cause it to rise through the pipe and 
leave the room, drawing at the same time new air from 
other portions of the room to take the place of that 
displaced. By this simple device a constant flow of 
air will be maintained from the room to the outside of 
the house, and particularly will the foul air from the 
closet directly beneath the light be removed. This 
same principle may be advantageously utilized in other 
portions of the house. 
In connection with ventilation, one word about sun- 
light. The influence exerted by the direct action of 
the sun on the human body is absolutely necessary to 
health. This is a fact not open to argument. Vege- 
tables and flowers cannot thrive without the sun, 
neither can man. The sun may fade your curtains and 
your carpets, but its want will fade yourself and your 
children. Hoping that I have now made clear the 
purpose of ventilation, its necessity, and how every one 
can procure it, I will proceed to consider another por- 
tion of my subject. HOW TO WORK. 
181 
CHAPTER VII. 
HOW WE OUGHT TO WORK. 
In the personal column of the Philadelphia Times, on 
January 14th, 1881, there appeared the following:— 
“ Mr. Philip Armour, the wealthy Cincinnati mer- 
chant, and Manager Carpenter, of Chicago, both of 
whom died a few days ago, lost their lives through over- 
work. Mr. Armour was thirty-eight years of age and 
worth about $2,000,000, and Mr. Carpenter was suc- 
cessful at thirty-six years.” This pregnant personal 
will be the text for our chapter. I will enunciate once 
again what you have been told a hundred times or 
more, and know well, but still disregard, that excessive 
work of any kind (like excess in anything else), men- 
tal or physical, is injurious. Excessive work of all 
kinds is really the great bane of our country, as it unfor- 
tunately ever will be in all new, large and undeveloped 
countries, where the race for wealth and advancement 
is carried away beyond the bounds of judgment, and 
with total disregard to the rules of hygiene. Some 
persons there are who will work, and work, and work 
as long as they can, in spite of all contrary advice; but 
I feel sure that there are many persons, even in our 
overly active land, who would gladly direct their work 
with judgment if they only knew how. Of course, this 
book will not be of much use to those who are com- 
pelled by necessity to follow a certain course of 
life. Advantage from perusal of its precepts will be 182 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
chiefly gained by those who are so situated as to be 
able to map out their own lives and live as they desire. 
But even to those who must, as I say, work in a 
certain rut, so to speak, I will give some rules by the 
observance of which they may derive the least harm 
and the greatest amount of good from their work. 
Let us first consider the merchant, whose office is 
usually some distance from his house. In the morn- 
ing, after breakfast, let him for half an hour or so sit 
quietly and read the paper, instead of running from the 
house with the last swallow of food in his mouth, and 
rushing frantically for the first street car, as though the 
whole lower part of the city were in flames, and he the 
only man in the place who could extinguish them. By 
this means his digestion will commence decently and 
thoroughly, and he will have laid the foundation for 
sufficient strength to properly perform his day’s labor. 
Then let him walk to his office. If several miles away, 
so much the better. If some valuable time may be lost 
to business in each day by this habit of getting to the 
office late, it will be more than counterbalanced by the 
increase in bodily and mental vigor when you do get 
there, and the number of years which it, in conjunction 
with the other simple rules of living, will add to your 
life. In the middle of the day (if you do not go home 
to dinner, and it would be better if you did and allowed 
plenty of time for it), take a full hour to your lunch and 
subsequent recreation before returning to your office. 
If you have money and are liberal, invite a congenial 
friend to lunch. His pleasant conversation will tempt 
you to eat slowly and to properly digest your food. If 
you neglect this meal, you will be apt to gorge your- SEEK CONGENIAL WORK. 
183 
self in the evening, and ultimately to ruin your stom- 
ach by the extra work thus thrown upon it. A golden 
rule is to “ eat but a little at a time, repeat the dose often, 
and take this little slowly and at regular intervals.” 
Avoid alcoholic liquors at this lunch, not only on ac- 
count of their evil action per se (see chapter on alcohol), 
but because they may muddle your brain, cause you to 
make some error in your afternoon’s work, and send 
you home in the evening with your brain full of anger 
and blood, and your stomach unfit to receive and pro- 
perly digest your evening meal. Walk home from 
your office, and always try to have pleasant company 
in this walk. Do not discuss business matters together; 
talk on any subject disconnected with the business of 
the day; this will rest and refresh your brain, while the 
walking will exercise your body. Pass your evening 
in any pleasant occupation. 
Let me impress upon you, parents, a very important 
consideration. When choosing an occupation for your 
children, observe carefully their inclinations; do not 
force them to a business ora profession for which they 
have no liking; let each one choose his own pursuit in 
life and follow it, unless it would be, beyond question, 
to his disadvantage to do so. Because it is a well- 
established fact that labor which is agreeable and not 
indulged in to excess is only good, wholesome exercise 
for the parts or organs employed, and cannot possibly 
prove injurious to health. On the other hand, uno.on- 
genial labor (if performed at all) becomes very hard 
and tiresome work, proving detrimental to the physical 
and mental well-being of the person so employed. 
Pleasant and agreeable work tends to promote health 184 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
and increase the length of life, because it furnishes to 
all the organs of the body just that amount of good and 
wholesome exercise which is most conducive to their 
proper, healthy and prolonged action, and at the same 
time, it keeps them from becoming rusty through want 
of use. While at the same time, every atom of work 
done which we do not like is performed through the 
agency of so much force exerted upon our unwilling 
organs and parts; hence, being driven to their work, so 
to speak, they soon become exhausted (a small amount 
of such unwilling work, constituting an excess of it) 
and predisposed to disease. This excess of work con- 
sumes an-unnecessary amount of the vital force I have 
told you about, and so must have a tendency to shorten 
the duration of life. 
Hufeland, in his excellent work on the “Art of Pro- 
longing Life,” makes the following statement:— 
“ It appears that all those who have attained to a 
great age were men who, in their youth, had been much 
accustomed to labor and fatigue.” 
My appendix will confirm this statement by actual 
and unquestioned experience; but in each case the 
labor has been congenial and the resultant fatigue 
wholesome. Our late distinguished fellow-townsman, 
General Robert Patterson, who attained the advanced 
age of ninety years, in possession of all his faculties, 
enjoying to within a short period of his death very 
good health, and attending regularly to the •require- 
ments of an extensive private business, told me that 
he had been accustomed to much labor in boyhood, 
working on a farm, and always leading an active life. 
His individual experience will be confirmed by many REDUCE THE WORKING PERIOD. 
185 
others in the appendix. I would advise merchants to 
see that those in their employ lead the life here laid 
down, so far as they can control their movements. By 
this course they will fulfill their conscientious duty to 
their employees, and will really derive more and better 
service from them. If they so arrange the hours of 
work as to render such a life possible, and add to this 
their good counsel and advice, they may do very much 
good, and be the means of prolonging many useful 
and valuable lives. The lives led by our poor book- 
keepers in this country are simply terrible to contem- 
plate. No one could possibly devise a more injurious 
or unhealthy life than that led by these poor victims to 
money. Their confinement, their dreadful position, 
leaning, hour after hour over their books, with their 
round shoulders and cramped and contracted chests, 
will produce more cases of consumption than any other 
single cause. Their lungs are so cramped by this 
position, that they cannot possibly fully expand as they 
ought to, when, from sheer want of use and inactivity, 
they waste away and consumption claims its victim. 
Our merchants should so regulate their business as to 
allow the bookkeeper time for exercise and pure air. 
It will redound to their material advantage in the long 
run. It may be enunciated as a safe average rule, 
that a man should not devote more than six hours out 
of the twenty-four to business, if he would desire to at- 
tain longevity. We would enjoy much better health, as a 
rule, if our business were to commence at ten o’clock 
and terminate at four. I am sure, from my own expe- 
rience of business and business men, that in this length 
of time, devoted exclusively to really hard business work, 186 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
fully much would be accomplished, in the long run, 
as now is in the very long, fatiguing days devoted to 
business, simply because these hours would be too 
short to allow of exhaustion, while every minute of 
them could be devoted to real hard work. Just here, 
I might say that one of the principal objections (from 
a sanitary standpoint) to sewing machines arises from 
this very same position which it is necessary to assume 
in using them, by which all the organs in the chest are 
so cramped that their free play is interfered with. 
The same principles and methods of life as given to 
the merchant will be applicable, in the main, to the pro- 
fessional man and mental worker. There is one point, 
however, in which the mental laborer is particularly 
apt to transgress the laws of health. The professional 
man is very prone to reserve his writing and much of 
his reading for the evenings at home, and to continue 
his labors far into the night. This is very wrong. The 
evening hours should always be passed in some occu- 
pation or amusement diametrically opposite to the busi- 
ness of the day, and I would anticipate myself, to enun- 
ciate here, that, as a general rule, we would all enjoy 
better health if we ceased all labor or amusement and 
retired to bed at ten o’clock. 
Let me caution the mental worker to vary the na- 
ture and kind of his employment. Excessive concen- 
tration of the powers of the mind on any one particular 
subject or kind of study is very fatiguing and injurious 
to the brain; it becomes hard work, and by its depress- 
ing influence on the brain and nervous system tends, 
by its reaction on the system at large, to produce de- 
rangement of the various organs thereof. In illustra- RELAXING EMPLOYMENT. 
187 
tion of the truth of this statement, I will direct your 
attention to the premature decay, mental and physical, 
of so many of the heads and prime movers of our large 
corporations, whose minds are continually on the 
stretch, employed to excess in the same groove of 
mental exertion. 
As the body requires a variety of food for its proper 
nourishment and healthy life, and could not exist long 
if confined to one single article of diet, so the brain 
requires a variety of mental food, in the shape of 
change of employment, for its lengthy and healthy life. 
An eminent physiologist once said, “ It is not brain work, 
but brain worry that kills.” This is certainly true. It is 
just as necessary for our brains to have a proper 
amount of exercise, which they receive from varied and 
pleasant work, as it is for our muscles to receive a suf- 
ficiency of exercise to enable them to properly live and 
last throughout a long lifetime. 
I would recommend to brain workers who are not 
absolutely compelled to live in the city, to make their 
homes in the country, where they can have some ground 
around their houses. Such a man should select for 
his study the brightest and pleasantest room in the 
house, and ought to be very particular about its ven- 
tilation, since in it he will pass the majority of his work- 
ing hours. He can keep poultry, dogs, a horse, and a 
variety of live stock. Every hour or so, in fair weather, 
he can vary his literary work by a short stroll around 
his grounds, among the animals ; this will cause him to 
take exercise in the fresh air, which will be good for 
his body, and will relieve and refresh his mind, which 
will surely become exhausted by too incessant applica- 188 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
tion. These few minutes lost from work will be more 
than offset by extra vigor of the brain, increased power 
of application and clearness of ideas when he returns. 
By this simple means, a life of literary labor may be 
sustained for many years, and an immense amount of 
mental work accomplished, while incessant application 
will surely, beyond any possibility of doubt, use up the 
vital power and break down the body and mind before 
half as much work has been accomplished. “All work 
and no play 7nakes yack a dull boy," is a homely, but 
intensely accurate adage. Even a locomotive, a thing 
of iron and brass, requires periods of rest from active 
duty, or it will give out before its time; how much 
more imperative is it to rest the brain, an organ so deli- 
cate and sensitive that the prick of a pin or the effusion 
of a few drops of blood in certain portions of it may 
immediately cause a cessation of its life. 
I would also recommend the literary worker not to 
confine himself to one room all the time. By moving oc- 
casionally from one room to another, his surroundings 
are varied, monotony of external objects will not weary 
and exhaust the brain, through the agency of the sense of 
vision; new objects meeting the eye, will refresh the 
brain and will vary the impressions which it receives, 
to say nothing of the numerous ideas suggested to it 
by this change of scene. It would be wise for the brain 
worker to perform as much as possible of his labor in 
the open air, when the weather is mild, of course. If 
living in the country, he can accomplish this by read- 
ing and writing in a tent on his lawn. He will thus be 
constantly supplying his body with one of its most re- 
quisite elements, oxygen, in the shape of pure air, and COMPARATIVE STATISTICS. 
189 
to his mind will be giving its most healthy and harm- 
less stimulant. 
When reading or writing, endeavor to so arrange 
your book or paper that you can sit erect By leaning 
over, you will soon become round shouldered, while 
what is gained in the size of your shoulders will be lost 
in the capacity of your chest, and all the important or- 
gans contained therein will be cramped, crowded and 
interfered with, more especially your lungs, which will 
not be able to take in a requisite amount of air. To 
the laboring man I can only say, when your day’s work 
is over, spend your evenings with your family. If the 
weather admit, take them out for an airing. Pass your 
Sundays and holidays in the open air, in the public 
parks or make an excursion on one of our river 
steamers. One of the greatest curses and misfortunes 
of this and other countries (from a sanitary stand- 
point) is the bad habit, so common among the laboring 
men, of spending their spare time in the nearest grog- 
gery, poisoning their minds and their bodies, and 
wasting the means which ought to support their fami- 
lies, in bad liquor. 
Of course, some occupations are more injurious to 
health than others; thus, painters are very liable to 
have colic and to suffer from a certain form of paral- 
ysis ; workers in steel are apt to inhale small particles 
of this metal, which, irritating their lungs, may give 
rise to consumption, and so on. 
In this connection, the following facts will be inter- 
esting. They are the results of a series of careful 
observations made in the hospitals of Breslau and 
Wurzburg. They give the relative proportion of cases 190 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
of consumption occurring in workmen in various trades 
subjecting them to the inhalation of various kinds of 
dust:— 
1. Metallic Dust.—Needle polishers, 69.6; file cut- 
ters, 62.2; lithographers, 48.5; sieve makers, 42.1; 
grinders, 40.4 ; compositors, 36.9 ; watch makers, 36.5; 
type founders, 34.9; engravers, 26.3; dyers, 25; var- 
nishers, 25 ; painters, 24.5 ; printers, 21.6 ; belt makers 
19.7; tinkers, 14.1. 
2. Mineral Dust.—Flint workers, 80; grindstone 
makers, 40; stone cutters, 36.4; plasterers, 19; porce- 
lain makers, 16; potters, 14.7; carpenters, 14.4; 
masons, 12.9 ; diamond cutters, 9 ; cement makers, 8.10. 
3. Vegetable Dust.—Cigar makers, 36.9 ; weavers, 
15 ; rope makers, 18.9; millers, 10.9; bakers, 7; chim- 
ney sweepers, 6.5; coal miners, 0.8. 
4. Animal Dust.—Brush makers, 49.1 ; hair workers, 
32.1 ; upholsterers, 25.9; fell mongers, 23.2 ; turners, 
16.2; hatters, 15.5; button makers, 10. 
5. Mixed Dust.—Glass blowers, 35; glass makers, 
17.8; laborers, 15.1. 
These figures may convey a hint to those predis- 
posed to consumption, to guide them in selecting occu- 
pations. 
However, when a man is about choosing a business 
in which to engage, the question of health is the very last 
consideration which he entertains. If sure he can make 
money, he does not stop to consider whether his health 
will suffer. Therefore, it would unnecessarily prolong 
this work were I to enter upon a discussion of the effects 
of the various trades upon health. If, however, this 
book should meet the eye of that remarkable indi- OPEN-AIR WORK. 
191 
vidual who values his health as he ought to, namely, 
above all else, and if he is about to embark in business 
or learn a trade, or if he desires to know whether the 
occupation in which he may be engaged is injurious 
to his health, let him ask his physician. I will relate 
just here a case that came under my own observation, 
to illustrate the importance of using judgment in se- 
lecting your work. In the same country neighborhood 
in which I used to live, some years ago, a young man 
was employed as salesman in a large country store. 
He was not naturally robust, and his confining work so 
reduced and exhausted his strength that after some 
years he became very sick. He had dyspepsia, and was 
threatened with consumption. His wise physician told 
him that medicine would do him no good, that he must 
change his mode of life; he was not sufficiently robust 
for such a sedentary life, and must find some occupa- 
tion that would keep him in the open air. He com- 
menced to supply the morning papers to the country 
people. At first his customers were few and his work 
light; but he was in the open air, walking from house 
to house. Gradually his business grew, and at the 
same time his health and strength increased, until at the 
present time, getting up at five o’clock in the morn- 
ing, he commences his route, walking (up hill and 
down) nearly fifteen miles daily, and delivering the 
morning papers to more than eight hundred persons, 
carrying all these papers on his back. He tells me 
he never enjoyed such health as at present, and he is 
a good specimen of a strong, wiry, muscular pedes- 
trian. Had he remained behind the counter he would, 
according to all sanitary laws, have died long since; as 192 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
it is, he seems to bid fair, unless he is the victim of 
accident, to reach a good old age ; and this in face of 
the fact that he was not naturally robust. Let me add, 
that for some years he has not missed a day’s work, 
even in the worst days of our severest winters. 
A few words, now, about farmers, and only a few, 
because it would be hard to imagine a more healthy 
style or mode of work than that followed by those who 
till the soil. Still, they make some mistakes, and I will 
point them out. 
It is a curious fact, that we learn from the statistics 
of our insane asylums, that the majority of insane men 
come from the class of farmers. This is to be account- 
ed for as follows: They are exposed to the intense 
heat of the sun, which, beating down all day long on 
their heads, produces a congestion that oftentimes 
results in derangement of the functions of the brain, or 
insanity. This is one of the evils that farmers have to 
guard against, and to do so, I would advise them to 
wear constantly in their hats, in contact with their 
heads, a sponge soaked in cold water, and to wet it 
freshly as fast as it becomes warm or dry. This will 
keep the head cool. 
Another trouble that I have found very prevalent 
among farmers is dyspepsia. 
This is frequently caused by the fact that they will 
go to work immediately after eating. We often see 
pictures of the noonday hour at a farm house, where 
the farmer and his men are represented as half reclin- 
ing on a porch, the dogs lying around, and a beautiful 
landscape in the distance. This makes a very beauti- 
ful picture, but is not true to nature. On the contrary, CONGENIAL WORK. 
193 
in my experience, the farmer will hurry down his 
breakfast and dinner as rapidly as possible, and hurry 
off to work. After supper, it is true, he will generally 
sit around and enjoy his pipe until bedtime, but the 
hasty disposal of the two other meals has overtaxed 
the stomach and produced dyspepsia. Therefore, I 
would in an especial manner advise the farmer to note 
what I say about all other points conducive to longevity, 
and not to forget the wet sponge. 
We have erected our sign-posts to guide us in work. 
Let us now inspect them and see what we have. They 
surely are very simple and easy to follow. They may, 
indeed, be summed up something like this: Consider 
carefully and only undertake such work as is congenial, 
and do not do too much of it. When I advise you to 
reject uncongenial work, I must hasten to qualify this 
advice. I refer to the main life work of a man. In 
this world of care and trouble, we must all of us, very 
frequently, do work that we do not like; but we need 
not, and must not (if we desire health and success) 
decide upon some unpleasant occupation for our 
chief employment in life. The lover of literary work 
has no business to engage in trade. The natural 
born doctor, with an enthusiasm for the science of 
medicine, should not study law, while the young man 
who likes and develops an aptitude for mercantile life 
ought not to stunt his abilities by becoming a profes- 
sional man. Still, I would here advise all parents who 
can do so to compel their children in early life to learn 
thoroughly some trade or profession. If they do not 
like it, and prefer mercantile life, let them indulge in 
the latter; then, if unfortunate in business, in buying 194 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
and selling merchandise, they will always possess a 
capital of information, which in a country like ours is 
sure to afford them at least a living. In this matter of 
work, after understanding certain fundamental prin- 
ciples, every intelligent man must, indeed, be a law 
unto himself. Some men can, of course, do more work 
than others, since some men are stronger than others. 
Therefore, each man must, intelligently and under- 
standingly, gauge his particular ability for work, and 
work accordingly. Bear ever in mind what I have 
told you in the first chapter, that a stronger man may, 
by excessive work, exhaust his vigor even sooner than 
a weaker one, and form the estimate of your capacity 
very carefully. Remember, also, that by doing less work 
daily, and conserving your vital force, you will live 
longer, so that, in the aggregate, you will really accom- 
plish more work and have more pleasure than if you 
had worked much harder. For illustration, let us sup- 
pose a man born with a certain amount of vital force; 
he devotes himself to literary work and labors fourteen 
hours daily; allowing four hours for meals and amuse- 
ment, and six for sleeping. He accomplishes a certain 
amount of work, has very little pleasure (outside of his 
work), denies to his family the pleasure of his society, 
and finally dies at forty years of age. Now, another 
man with the same inheritance of vital force and men- 
tal calibre likewise chooses literature for a profession. 
But he works eight hours daily, gives three hours to 
his meals, five hours to his family and pure amusement, 
and sleeps eight hours. When he reaches forty years 
he has not accomplished quite as much as case No. i, 
but he has done better work, since it has been the pro- WORK METHODICALLY. 
195 
duct of an ever active and fresh mind; he has had much 
more real pleasure, and instead of dying, is a vigorous, 
hearty man, in his prime. He continues to work, and 
when he reaches seventy-five or eighty years of age, and 
dies, he has accomplished very much more work, has 
had much more enjoyment in life himself, has given 
much more pleasure to his family and friends, and has 
benefited the world and his fellow-creatures to a much 
greater degree than his neighbor, who, crowding on too 
much steam, did brilliant work for a while, but pre- 
maturely collapsed. This same suppositious illustration 
will apply to all workers, mental or physical. 
To sum up, a golden rule, no matter what may be the 
nature of your labor, will be to work as methodically as 
possible; to work until you are tired, and then stop ; but 
never tinder any conditions, carry your labor to the 
point <7/*EXHAUSTION. By intelligently observing 
the effect of work on your system, you can very soon de- 
termine just when and how much you can work without 
exhaustion, and when you have very carefully de- 
termined this point, you must arrange your daily life in 
accordance. Remember that all of us cannot possibly 
do the same amount of work, because all of us are 
not equally strong You cannot, perhaps, work four- 
teen hours a day just because your neighbor does ; 
that is to say, you cannot do so without detriment to 
your health; and the sooner we realize and conform to 
this comparative power for labor on the part of different 
men, the sooner will we all enjoy better health, and the 
average duration of life be lengthened. Therefore do 
I urge you again, consider your capacity when deter- 
mining how much labor you will perform. 196 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
CHAPTER VIII. 
HOW WE OUGHT TO EAT CARE OF THE BOWELS WATER. 
“ If thou to health and vigor would’st attain, 
Shun weighty cares, all anger deem profane, 
From heavy suppers and much wine abstain ; 
Nor trivial count it after pompous fare, 
To rise from table and to take the air. 
Shun idle noonday slumbers, nor delay 
The urgent call of nature to obey. 
These rules, if thou wilt follow to the end, 
Thy life to greater length thou may extend. 
Should’st doctors need ? Be this in doctors stead, 
Rest, cheerfulness and table thinly spread.” 
Of all the important duties of the human machine, 
surely eating is one of the foremost. Being (as all 
know) absolutely necessary to life, the way in which 
we eat will have itiuch to do with our health and 
longevity. For example, if you eat in such a way as to 
unnecessarily tax your stomach in digesting the food, 
of course you will unnecessarily exhaust that organ, 
and predispose it to disease and early decay. It be- 
hooves us to take great care of our stomachs, since 
they are the mainsprings of life ; they are the chemical 
laboratories in which is generated life force, or the 
power to live. 
As I have already written a small book on “ Dys- 
pepsia, and How to Avoid It,” I will not here discuss 
the function of digestion, but will at once formulate 
for your guidance some simple rules, the faithful ob- 
servance of which will make dyspepsia unknown, and 
will enable you to get from your stomach the greatest 
length of work of which it was originally capable:— EAT MODERATELY. 
197 
i st. Eat everything, except such articles as your own 
individual experience teaches you disagree wit{i you, 
because the body of man requires a variety of nourish- 
ment, and could not exist if confined to one or two 
articles. Dr. Hufeland says: “ In general we find that 
those men who were not too nice or particular in regard 
to their food, but who lived sparingly, attained to the 
greatest age,” and “ it is an advantage peculiar to man 
that he can digest and assimilate the most heterogenous 
kinds of nourishment, and is not, like other animals, 
confined to one certain class.” 
2d. Eat slowly and chew all of your food thoroughly, 
until it becomes pulpy, and mushy, and well mixed 
with saliva, before allowing it to pass into the stomach; 
because this is an absolutely necessary preliminary to 
perfect digestion. To do this effectually, you must 
take only a small quantity into your mouth at a time, 
and put no more in until the first installment has been 
thoroughly chewed and comfortably lodged in your 
stomach. 
3d. Cease eating before your appetite has been 
thoroughly satisfied ; because, though the sensation of 
hunger is, in the first place, the voice of the system de- 
manding food, it does not follow that the stomach has 
not received enough material for the nourishment of 
the body until this voice of hunger is hushed, for you 
must remember that the food must first be digested be- 
fore it can nourish your body, and that this process will 
require some little time. Therefore, you may have 
enough material in your stomach and still feel hungry, 
for, not being yet digested and taken up, it has not 
satisfied the wants of the body. In view of these facts, 198 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
a good plan will be, always to rise from the table with 
a comfortable feeling of satiety, but at the same time 
feeling fully capable of eating and enjoying more than 
you have taken. By eating slowly, you can easily 
determine when you have reached this point. For 
heaven’s sake, avoid stuffing. Nothing can be more 
conducive to dyspepsia than the habit, so common 
among our people, of sitting down to eat and making a 
business out of it. With no intervals between the 
mouthfuls, they cram, and push, and force, and wash 
down with huge draughts of water or wine, large boluses 
of unchewed food, and never cease until they are phys- 
ically unable to hold any more, until they are “chock- 
full!' Is it any wonder they are obliged to unbutton 
their vests and even their pantaloons, to make room for 
their abnormally and enormously distended stomachs ? 
They grunt and groan, are short of breath, say they 
have eaten too much, and in a few hours’ time stuff 
themselves again. Is it any wonder that dyspepsia is 
so common among people so hoggish ? Could it be 
otherwise ? If you stuff an iron furnace with coal, you 
will ruin it in a short time ; how much sooner will this 
occur with your delicate stomach. Even a horse knows 
when he has had enough, and no amount of persuasion 
can induce him to eat another grain of oats. Let me 
therefore, again beg of you to have as much sense as 
your horse, and to learn when you have eaten enough 
and to stop there. Do not let your palate run away 
with your intelligence and ruin your stomach. So, 
once more, do not stuff\ or you will surely have dys- 
pepsia. 
4th. Do not commence a meal when over-heated, EAT LEISURELY. 
199 
over-fatigued, very much excited with anger or any 
other emotion, or very much depressed. Because the 
stomach, being unfavorably impressed by, and partici- 
pating in, all of these conditions, will be unable to 
properly perform its duty. 
Under this rule it will be well to say a few words 
about the terrible American habit of restaurant eating. 
A few weeks ago, I went with a friend into one of the 
numerous eating-houses near Third street, patronized 
chiefly by bankers and brokers. To describe accur- 
ately the scene there presented I am not capable; but 
I will tell you some little about it. The room was 
handsomely, even elegantly fitted up, the food appeared 
to be well cooked, but the poor victims! As I sat eat- 
ing a sandwich, the door would be thrown open, and 
in would rush a man, evidently in a state of great ex- 
citement, having, in all probability, passed the morn- 
ing amid the turbulence, worry and anxiety of the 
Board room. His stomach, I must tell you, was as ex- 
cited and irritable as his brain. He would go first to 
the tape, to see the latest stock quotations; with the 
paper in his hand he would call out his order for lunch 
or dinner, as the case might be, then to the bar, where 
he swallows a large dose of brandy or whisky, or the 
like, then to his lunch, which is swallowed hastily and 
with little or no chewing; this process being intermitted 
several times for inspection of the tape upon the arri- 
val of fresh quotations; he then lights a cigar, takes a 
last look at the tape and hurries out. . He has been in 
the restaurant not more than ten or fifteen minutes; 
he cannot spare any more time, for he must get back 
to the Board. Can such a meal be properly digested ? 200 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
Your common sense, unaided by medical knowledge, 
will answer this question in the negative. There are 
some exceptions to this rule, of course, but what I have 
told you is the rule among bankers and brokers. The 
business hours for these gentlemen are from ten to 
three. They would have less dyspepsia and enjoy 
better general health if they would eat a hearty break- 
fast, say at nine o’clock, then walk to their offices; this 
would allow nearly an hour, in which time digestion 
would be fairly commenced, before the business and 
worriment of the day began. Eat nothing at mid-day; 
after three o’clock walk leisurely and quietly home, 
which would allow time for the excitement of the day 
to subside, and bring their stomachs into proper con- 
dition to receive and digest a leisurely eaten and thor- 
oughly masticated dinner at four o’clock. Bankers and 
brokers, try this method. Make it a rule to allow at 
least a full hour for dinner, and do not permit anything 
to interfere with this rule. Apropos of this suggestion, 
I will relate an anecdote to point it: A very prominent 
surgeon (one of the most eminent in the United States), 
now considerably more than seventy years of age, yet 
actively engaged in an extensive practice, and perform- 
ing much literary labor besides, had made it a rule of 
his life to allow a full hour for his dinner, and under no 
consideration, no matter how pressing, to deviate from 
this practice. One day, shortly after he had com- 
menced dinner, a very wealthy and influential banker 
came to his office to consult him. He was told that 
the doctor was at dinner. Time being valuable to him 
he sent in his card, considering himself of sufficient 
importance to interrupt this meal. Word was returned EAT SYSTEMATICALLY. 
201 
that the doctor was at dinner and would be out shortly. 
The banker waited fifteen minutes, and becoming im- 
patient, sent in a second time. The same word was. 
returned. After nearly half an hour had elapsed, word 
was sent in a third time. The doctor then said, “tell 
Mr. So and So, I am at dinner and will come out when 
I am through and not before, and if that does not suit 
him he can go to the Devil.” This message, though 
not very elegant, was very forcible, and demonstrated 
how important to this great physician it was, to have 
plenty of time for an uninterrupted dinner. 
5th. Above all things, be regular in your habits of 
eating. Always have your meals at the same hours. 
Take plenty of time for them, and occupy your mind 
while eating with light and pleasant conversation. 
Heavy reading, or any mental occupation requiring 
much brain work, if indulged in while eating, will be 
very injurious, because it will have a tendency to draw 
blood from the stomach to the brain, and for proper 
digestion to take place, it is necessary for the stomach 
to have plenty of blood. 
6th. In warm weather avoid or use sparingly oily 
and fatty articles of food, because they are both un- 
necessary and positively injurious. Unnecessary, be- 
cause their principal duty is to produce heat, and the 
outside temperature being high, you need but a small 
production of internal heat; injurious, because their 
particles not being consumed in producing heat, it be- 
comes the duty of the liver to remove the excess of 
them from the body; hence, if you use such food freely 
in warm weather, you give the liver too much work to 
do, and it becomes exhausted and eventually diseased. 202 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
To carry out this rule in an easy way, let me suggest 
to you to reduce or entirely abandon the use of butter 
and gravy in summer. 
7th. Avoid excessive exercise, either mental or 
physical, for twenty minutes or half an hour after you 
have finished a meal, because any exercise will tend 
to draw the blood away from the stomach toward the 
organ or parts so exercised, and thus interfere with 
digestion. The “Otium cum dignitatem,” the “Dolce far 
Niented the after-dinner cigar, cup of coffee and light 
conversation, the lolling about, the comfortable laziness, 
call it what you may, is a mighty sensible institution. 
Through its agency, during this period of passive life 
of repose and quietude, your stomach seizes hold of 
your food and commences vigorously to digest it. Be- 
lieving, as I do, that tobacco is a poison, I would still 
advocate the use of an after-dinner cigar, if by its influ- 
ence a man could be kept quiet and passive for half an 
hour; because I believe the injury done to his nervous 
system by the tobacco would be more than counter- 
balanced by the good done to it and the body at large, 
from the more perfect digestion which would result 
from this half hour’s repose secured by the agency of 
the cigar. Do not, however, go to the other extreme and 
fall asleep. If you do, your stomach will also “go to 
sleep,” as it were, and your food will not be digested. 
A heavy nap after dinner is a very bad institution, and 
is the cradle of dyspepsia. 
To repeat, do not go to sleep, but make yourself com- 
fortable ; and do not forget that if you eat too much 
it will be impossible to make yourself comfortable ; there- 
fore, pay particular attention to rule three. EAT REGULARLY. 
203 
8th. In such a climate as ours, three meals a day 
should be the rule. Breakfast, as soon as dressed in 
the morning, should be a substantial meal, because it 
succeeds a long period of fasting. Dinner, the meal 
of the day, should be eaten some time between noon 
and two o’clock; a light supper in the evening. Many 
persons will object to a midday dinner, because, they 
say, it makes them drowsy and unfit for work. If it 
does, they can rest assured that they are eating too 
much; they are gorging themselves. Eat less, and 
you will be equal to a good afternoon’s work. I think 
it was the “ Sage of Chelsea,” Carlyle, himself a suf- 
ferer from dyspepsia, who said that the surest evidence 
that one had a good stomach, was to be found in the 
fact that he was ignorant that he had a stomach at all. 
Whether or not Carlyle made this statement, it is emi- 
nently true; a thoroughly sound stomach will digest 
your food without letting you know anything about it, 
and if you are cognizant of the fact that digestion is 
taking place, from any unpleasant sensation about the 
stomach, your digestion is not perfect; and if your 
stomach is sound, your general health good, and your 
appetite large, and yet you feel an unconquerable 
drowsiness or heaviness after eating, depend upon it, 
you are eating too much ; you are receiving a warning; 
your stomach is whistling “ down bi'akesl' and if you 
heed not the signal dyspepsia will be the result. Let 
us divide the day, and arrange the meal hours in the 
manner that would be the healthiest for the average 
man. Suppose he takes his breakfast at seven o’clock, 
his dinner at one, and his supper at seven. Suppose 
he gets up at six and retires to bed at ten o’clock. His 204 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
period of active, waking, working life would then be 
sixteen hours. Thus would elapse a period of six 
hours between breakfast and dinner, and six hours 
between dinner and supper. Between supper and bed- 
time would elapse three hours, and between rising and 
breakfast one hour, making four in all. When we are 
asleep, all of our functions are much diminished in the 
intensity of their action, merely acting sufficiently to 
maintain life; the voluntary functions are entirely at rest, 
while the involuntary phenomena of life are working at 
very low pressure. So that the sum total of the de- 
struction of tissue (requiring food to repair the waste) 
which occurs during the eight hours of sleep would not 
probably exceed that which would occur in two hours 
of waking, active life, when all your functions, intellec- 
tual and physical, are in full activity. So that from 
supper at seven until breakfast at seven there would 
elapse a period during which there would take place a 
destruction of tissue equaling in amount that which 
would occur in each of the other intervals between 
meals. Hence, you see, we would have in the above 
regimen an accurate division of the twenty-four hours 
into fasting or inter-meal periods of six hours duration. 
9th. A golden one. Never eat between meals. Be- 
cause it is absolutely necessary for your stomach to 
have periods of rest and repose, and if you are con- 
stantly eating, you are also constantly giving your 
stomach work to do, and robbing it of its needed rest. 
Divide your day into the periods I have given you, and 
do not (except in rare and exceptional cases) eat even 
a cracker between meals. 
10th. Do not use artificial appetizers. They are the AVOID APPETIZERS. 
205 
inventions of the Devil and contain the seeds of dys- 
pepsia. The habit of drinking a cocktail to produce 
an appetite is most reprehensible and injurious. In the 
majority of healthy men who resort to the cocktail 
before breakfast, as an appetizer, the want of appetite 
is due to excessive indulgence in alcohol the night 
before. Now, this alcohol interferes with the proper 
tissue changes; much of the dead tissue has been re- 
tained in the body, because the alcohol consumed all 
the oxygen, and thus prevented the oxidation and re- 
moval of this tissue. The whole system is oppressed 
and depressed by the retention in it of this useless and 
decayed material, and in this general depression the 
stomach shares. The stomach is also in a state of 
inflammation, from the direct contact of the irritating 
alcohol. Therefore, it is not in a fit condition to digest 
a breakfast. It is absolutely necessary that it should 
have rest, in order that its inflamed condition may 
subside, just as necessary as it would be to rest an 
inflamed eye. It would, therefore, be better for such a 
man to go without breakfast. If he does not, his 
stomach will not thoroughly digest the food; it will lie 
heavy and undergo putrefactive decomposition, and the 
resultant rotten mass will still further irritate the 
stomach. It would be much better for a man who has 
over night indulged to excess in alcohol, to drink, 
upon rising in the morning, a bottle of Congress or 
some other strong saline mineral water; this will act 
on his kidneys and bowels, and will remove much of the 
dead tissue; he should then pass the morning in the 
open air, as far as possible'; this will insure to his lungs 
a liberal supply of oxygen, which will remove from his 206 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
body the poisonous alcohol, and will oxidize and re- 
move much of the product of the transformation and 
decay of tissue. By these means, the load which has 
oppressed his system will be surely and gradually 
removed, and by noon (if he has risen early) his body 
will commence to feel the necessity for food, and appe- 
tite will appear. He should then eat very slowly, 
carefully, and sparingly, because his stomach is still 
very delicate, and will require careful nursing for some 
time, in order that it may regain its original vigor. 
Milk, as one of the lightest and most easily digested 
foods, will be the most appropriate article to commence 
with. And let me tell you here, that it is a mistaken 
idea to imagine that the 'richer the milk the greater the 
nourishment to be derived from it. Skimmed milk, as a 
rule, is decidedly more nourishing than cream, because 
cream consists almost entirely of butter, which in turn 
contains little else than carbon, the element useful in 
generating heat, but of no nutritious value. On the 
other hand, skimmed milk has had all of this carbon 
removed from it, while it is rich in nitrogen, the ele- 
ment that makes tissue. So that if the weather be cold, 
it may be well to drink unskimmed milk, because you 
will then receive the nutritious element, nitrogen, and 
at the same time will supply to your vital furnace fuel, 
in the shape of carbon, wherewith to maintain the tem- 
perature of your body at its normal standard. But, 
if the outside temperature be high, as in summer, 
skimmed milk should be used; if you use cream under 
these circumstances, and so receive carbon into your 
body, it will not be required to maintain heat, and extra 
work will be thrown upon your organs to remove EAT STATEDLY. 
207 
it. In order to give your organs their requisite rest, 
no unnecessary labor should be imposed upon them. 
They have enough to do in maintaining the ordinary 
phenomena of life. 
nth. Do not eat just before going to bed. Your 
stomach is a patient slave and a faithful servant. If 
you impose a task upon it, it will use every possible 
effort to perform the duty. When night comes, your 
stomach is tired out and exhausted from its long day’s 
work, and wants to go to sleep. If you put food into 
it and order the process of digestion to commence, 
your patient stomach makes an effort to obey; but it is 
so exhausted that it is utterly unable to properly do its 
work, and dyspepsia ensues. Still more, its faithful 
friend and ally, the brain, resents your cruel injustice 
to its comrade, and as a punishment for your indiscre- 
tion, tortures you with nightmare, as though to say, if 
you are foolish enough to rob your stomach of its 
needed rest, I will play the same game with you. I will 
disturb, and make uncomfortable with hideous dreams, 
your sleep, and see how you like it. Seriously, in the 
majority of cases, nightmare is nature’s protest against 
an overloaded and abused stomach, and its warning 
should be heeded. 
12th. As a rule, it will be better, other things being 
equal, not to eat when you are not hungry. As I have 
already told you, appetite is the voice of the body de- 
manding nourishment, asking repair for its waste. If 
you are in health, and this demand does not exist, it will 
be because your body does not require nourishment, 
it has enough, therefore eating under these circum- 
stances would be gorging, and would be unwholesome. 208 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
If you live a regular life, as you should, performing the 
same amount of work each day, and sitting down to 
your meals at the same hours, appetite will generally 
be present. 
Mr. Ernest Hart thus writes, in the Sanitary Record’ 
of London, England:— 
“ The breakfast is probably the most important meal 
of the day. 
“The skilled cooking of economic materials affords a 
theme on which it is popularly supposed to be easy to 
preach, and far from easy to carry doctrine into prac- 
tice. I shall speak only of the mode of preparation of 
the very simplest and cheapest kinds of food in the 
simplest and cheapest way. I shall begin with break- 
fast, and breakfast foods. I should like to see the tea-pot 
abolished from the breakfast table. I believe tea to be 
a drink utterly unsuited for an early morning meal, and 
one which has only come into general use because it is 
the easiest sort of hot infusion which bad cooks, careless 
housewives and thoughtless mothers can prepare. 
Breakfast should be digestible, warm, abundant, unex- 
citing, nourishing. I am not going to quarrel with 
bread and butter, especially other people’s. It is a 
typically good food, though not always presented in 
the most agreeable form, and far from being the most 
appetizing or cheapest of its class. Bread and butter 
and hot cocoa make a very good breakfast for work- 
ing people, but not perhaps the cheapest they can get, 
or the handiest. I believe very firmly in our good 
English household white bread. One hears a good 
deal, and reads a good deal, of the waste in grinding 
off the outside husk, which contains nutritious gluten. THE BEST BREAD. 
209 
The apparent economic waste is palpable enough. On 
the other hand, the silicated husk of all cereals is apt 
to be irritating. It hurries the digestion, quickens the 
passage of food through the intestinal tract, and I am 
inclined to believe that the actual physiological waste 
is greater in a brown bread than in a white bread diet. 
It is easy to take a superficial view of this question, and 
superficial reformers are always wanting to turn the 
world upside down. The instinct which has led to the pre- 
ference of white bread over brown, in places where the 
two can be had side by side, is nothing else than the 
crystallized experience which has taught people uncon- 
sciously that they are more comfortable after eating 
the white bread, and that the solid household bread, 
which is the staple food of the working classes of this 
country, is in the end most sustaining. A good 
deal is to be said in favor of some of the forms of 
“whole meal bread,” in which the husk is partially 
ground off, and the inner pellicle of the grain is very 
finely ground, and mixed in that condition with the 
white flour. Moreover, it is undoubtedly a fact that 
under certain circumstances, in lymphatic tempera- 
ments, and in conditions tending toward scrofula, 
where the diet has to be carefully supervised, and in 
certain forms of dyspepsia, where something like me- 
chanical excitation of the intestinal tract is useful, 
whole meal bread is an extremely valuable article of 
diet. But those are cases which I am not considering. 
For the working man, for the poor man, and for every 
day use, I doubt whether anything has yet been pro- 
duced in any country of the world which is equal to 
the English household bread. But when we pass out 210 
IIOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
of this category, and come to consider what is to be 
the cheap, warm, nourishing breakfast with which, at the 
least trouble and smallest expense, and with the great- 
est success, we can nourish our children, ourselves, our 
servants and our laborers, then we have to consider the 
claims of an immense class of cereals, of which, to our 
shame, we make but little use in this country, and 
thereby suffer a great economic and hygienic loss. 
Wheat is a costly cereal, and is not the most nourish- 
ing, nor does it lend itself well to those pleasant, whole- 
some, nutritious and comforting forms of food known 
as porridges, which do form the staple breakfast 
throughout Scotland and throughout the vast American 
continent, which is now peopled with English, Scotch 
and Irishmen, and from which we have so much to 
learn and so much to gain * * * * Hominy por- 
ridge is the staple breakfast of the American continent. 
For young people, for reasonably quiet people, for 
dyspeptics, for working people, for bankers and bro- 
kers, who want to keep their digestion in good order, and 
to be able to work satisfactorily, hominy porridge is the 
only food; hominy is nothing else than a fine kind of In- 
dian corn, ground roughly and largely, like Scotch oat- 
meal, and the way to make the porridge is to soak it in 
cold water all night, and to boil it for half an hour 
in the morning, stirring it frequently, to prevent it 
from burning. When boiled, each grain should be soft 
and separate, like well-boiled rice. It should retain 
its opaque whiteness, and should not be watery or 
semi-transparent, or else it may be known to be over- 
cooked. Neither should it run in masses, or coagulate 
in lumps ; all these are the indicia of bad cooking. 211 
MACCARONI. 
They may be easily avoided, and hominy which does 
not come up to table with every grain soft and separ- 
ate, and showing a pure, opaque, pearl-like whiteness, 
should be sent down again and devoted to some other 
use, such as frying in slices. When served in a hot 
bowl (with a pile of hot plates), it is best eaten with 
milk and sugar by the luxurious. To children and 
simple-minded people it is delicious with skim-milk 
and treacle, and of all the cheap, wholesome, digest- 
ible, delicious breakfasts which the world affords, I 
do not know any which can compare with a dish of 
hot hominy, with skim-milk and golden syrup. It 
would delight the heart of any British child. There 
is no epicure who retains a palate capable of appreciat- 
ing simple purity of flavor, or a mind capable of appre- 
ciating the best gifts of nature prepared for gastronomic 
enjoyment, who will not find in such a dish of hominy 
one of the most perfect luxuries which could be put 
before him. I should like to hear that some of the 
royal children take hominy, skim-milk and golden 
syrup every morning for breakfast. It would make it 
fashionable, and such a dish requires only to be fash- 
ionable in this country, to become universal, and to be 
as popular in the palace as in the peasant’s cottage. 
One practical inconvenience is sometimes found in 
preparing porridge, and that is the necessity of steep- 
ing the hominy over night, and spending half an hour 
in boiling it in the morning. 
MACCARONI. 
“Maccaroni makes an excellent variety in the scarcity 
of vegetables, and should be much better known, and 
more used by the masses here. It is the staple food 212 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
of the common people in Italy, indeed, of most classes. 
It is made of strongly glutinous wheat flour ; hence is 
flesh-forming, while its starch supplies heat. It may be 
cooked tender in boiling water, seasoned with salt, and 
eaten with or without cream-sauce, or milk and butter. 
After boiling, it can be put in a pudding dish, with 
about a quarter its weight of grated cheese sprinkled 
over it, and lightly baked. The addition of cheese 
makes this diet about equal to lean meat as a flesh- 
former. 
PEAS. 
“Ripe peas should be more commonly used. A bowl 
of good pea soup is as satisfying as a hearty dinner on 
a cold day. To make a gallon of it, wash a pint of 
peas and soak them over night, then boil in five pints 
of water, gently simmering three hours or so, until 
thoroughly soft. With a potato masher rub the soup 
through a colander or wire sieve. A pound of beef 
or ham bone may be boiled with the peas. The soup 
may be seasoned in various ways—with onions, cloves, 
pepper, sugar, any or all of them—to make it more 
palatable. Bean soup may be made similarly. 
“Stewed carrots are a far more nourishing and eco- 
nomical human food than is generally known, and they 
should not be mainly left for animals. Scrape the 
roots, chop into small pieces, and stew in water until 
very tender. They may be seasoned with flour and 
butter sauce—all the better with cream added—and in 
various other ways. Some like them piquant with a 
dash of Cayenne.” 
These few rules, simple as they seem, if rigidly ad- 
CARROTS. BE REGULAR IN HABIT. 
213 
hered to, will keep a healthy stomach in a healthy con- 
dition for the longest possible time. Disregard of 
them will surely, sooner or later, produce dyspepsia. 
Remember that I am writing this book for healthy 
persons, in order that they may remain healthy. In- 
valids must consult and obey the advice of a physician, 
though even to many of them, who have no specific 
disease, the directions contained in these pages will 
bring restored health. 
A few words must be said about the care of the 
bowels. When you put food into your body, you must 
at the same time remember that after having served 
its purpose it must be removed. 
As you can understand, this food is received for a 
purpose, which is to furnish the power of life to the 
body, and when this purpose has been accomplished, 
when this food has done its duty, it has no more busi- 
ness in the body, and must be removed. From what 
I have said in the chapter on drainage, you can under- 
stand how essential it is that all dead tissue should be 
removed from the body. One of the principal ways in 
which this removal is effected is by the bowels. Since 
I have already written a work on Constipation, I will 
not here go into detail concerning the function of the 
bowels. It will be sufficient for me to say that full, 
free, daily evacuations from the bowels are necessary 
to health. To secure such the following rules are 
necessary:— 
ist. Always go to the water-closet at the same hour; 
regularity is a very important factor. If you have been 
constipated for some time, it will require some time to 
get your bowels into good order. Therefore, when 214 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
you seek the closet, strain gently (if you strain se- 
verely you will do yourself harm), sit a few minutes, 
and if you do not succeed in having a passage, do not 
get worried; wait until next day; go again and 
strain again ; if you will persevere in this habit of regu- 
larity, in conjunction with the other rules I will give, 
you will soon find that the desire to have the bowels 
emptied will become manifest each day at the expected 
time. When you have succeeded in bringing about 
this fortunate condition of affairs, you must be very 
careful not to neglect nature’s calls, because, with 
bowels inclined to costiveness, one day’s neglect of 
natural demand may totally disarrange the bowels for 
many weeks. 
2d. Drink plenty of water. Many cases of constipa- 
tion are due to neglect of this precept. If you do not 
drink enough water, the contents of your bowels 
become hard and dry, and so are incapable of being 
expelled; while, on the other hand, if you use water 
freely, this mass will be rendered so soft that it can be 
easily expelled. I will tell you something about water 
in this chapter, and if you are careful to follow my ad- 
vice, and procure pure water, you can drink it without 
limit. 
3d. Always eat some fruit before breakfast, and after 
the fruit, before eating your meal, drink a large tum- 
bler of cold water. 
These three rules are very simple, and yet if faith- 
fully persevered in, they will overcome any case of 
constipation. Constipation breeds dyspepsia, dyspep- 
sia breeds nervous derangement, nervous derangement 
breeds disease of all the vital organs ; therefore, con- WATER 
215 
stipation is capable of producing very serious disease, 
and ought to be avoided. Follow these simple direc- 
tions faithfully, and your bowels will be moved daily. 
The following remarks about water were made by 
Dr. N. B. Sizer, before the Medical Society of the 
County of Kings, N. Y., in March, 1882, and as they 
cover the ground thoroughly, I here reproduce them:— 
“An article in a prominent New York newspaper, 
which appeared last summer, entitled ‘Pure Water, and 
How to Get it,’ deals with a question intimately con- 
cerning the health and well-being of every one, but 
does not treat the subject as accurately as its import- 
ance demands. 
“The following statements were made explicitly or by 
implication, viz.:— 
T. Pure water is distasteful. 
‘2. Health does not necessarily demand its use. 
‘3. Water may contain “hardly a trace of impurity” 
and yet be dangerous to use. 
‘4. It is comparatively easy to get good water in the 
country. 
‘5. “ Croton” water is “ as pure as could be expect- 
ed,” and yet not always “fit to drink.”’ 
“Statement No. 2 is almost entirely false; the others 
have a grain of truth in them, but are calculated to give 
wrong ideas and do much harm among those unin- 
formed on sanitarv matters. 
J 
“I feel called upon, considering the importance of the 
subject, to beg the indulgence of this Society, while I 
endeavor to state what Science teaches us about 
drinking water. 
WATER. 216 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
“Chemically pure water is generally to be found only 
in the laboratory, as the chemist is the only one who 
absolutely requires it; but rain water, falling through 
a clean atmosphere, is very nearly pure, containing, 
however, substances washed out of the air, as oxygen 
and carbonic acid, traces of nitrates, ammonia, H. S. 
and sulphuric and sulphurous acids, besides dust and 
particles of various origin, not, however, of a nature or 
in quantity great enough to be usually deleterious to 
health. 
“Other kinds of water, as spring, rain, pond, lake and 
sea water, all contain varying proportions of these 
impurities, frequently sufficient to be harmful. 
“Oxygen may be considered as only chemically an 
impurity, being not only harmless to man, but also the 
‘breathing material’ for fish, without which they could 
not live. 
“ Carbonic acid is inert, as regards ingestion, and gives 
the brisk, sparkling appearance to spring water, and to 
the falsely so-called ‘Soda water.’ Although it is 
innocuous per se, its presence in potable water is 
always to be regretted, since its presence in a stream 
flowing over a limestone country enables the water to 
dissolve a large amount of salines otherwise compara- 
tively insoluble. 
“It is found by experiment that pure water is able to 
dissolve only 7 or 8 grains of carbonates per gallon, but 
that the presence of C 02, enables the same amount of 
water to hold in solution over 250 grains of these salts. 
“‘Hard1 water is pure water containing certain dis- 
solved salines, not useful as food to a healthy man, in- 
jurious to the health if persisted in, and, so far as we IMPURE WATER. 
217 
know, useful, medicinally, only when the health is de- 
ranged. 
“ Certain it is that no sane man would think of adding 
‘ Epsom/ ‘ Glauber,’ or ‘ Rochelle ’ salts to his tea or 
coffee, to ‘improve its flavor,’ and yet this is practically 
what all do who use ‘hard’ water, these hard waters 
being merely weak solutions of various sulphates and 
carbonates. 
“Pure water exposed to a clean mountain air in a 
aesert country, away from human contamination, lying 
in a granitic or other insoluble basin, makes the most 
grateful of beverages, carbonic acid, if it be present, 
adding a peculiar freshness to its taste. 
“There can be no doubt that health does ‘demand 
pure water,’ and that a water not appreciably ‘pure,’ 
in a chemical sense, is unfit hygienically for use. 
“This is easily understood when we estimate the 
amount of these impurities that are taken per day. The 
Thames water, containing say 20 to 25 grains per gal- 
lon of carbonates and sulphates, would compel each 
adult using two quarts daily to swallow 10 to 12 grains 
of salines, whose average medicinal dose may be stated 
at 4 to 5 grains, thus getting a fair dose three times a 
day. Many wells contain 50 to 60 grains per gallon of 
alkaline carbonates, and it would be easy to compute 
in the same way the dose a thirsty soul would take dur- 
ing our sultry August days. 
“As a matter of course, persons accustomed to pure 
water are apt to suffer from diarrhoea or some enteric 
difficulty on being compelled to use these saline waters; 
but as in the case of tobacco, opium, whisky, or any 
other poison, use breeds tolerance. 218 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
“If we consider for a moment the function subserved 
in our economy by the water we drink, we shall see 
very forcibly why hard water does us harm. Leaving 
out of the account the water lost by transpiration 
through the lungs and skin, we may state, in a general 
way, that the use of water is to wash the blood clean— 
that is, to dissolve and carry out of the blood the waste 
materials picked up by the blood, which are soluble in 
water. Now, we all know that a liquid can only dis- 
solve a certain proportion of any solid; therefore, if 
we partly destroy the solvent properties of our potable 
water by previously putting into it from io to 50 grains 
per gallon of various salines, it is easy to see that we 
destroy its power of dissolving and removing from the 
blood anything like the proper amount of waste ma- 
terial, and that, if it be thus overloaded with dissolved 
salines, the water will be very apt, like an exhausted 
laborer, to drop part of its load the first chance it gets. 
“These deposits occur in very important and delicate 
organs—notably the kidney, ureter, and bladder, form- 
ing the diseases so common in lime-water districts— 
‘gravel’ and ‘ stone in the bladderl or ‘ urinary cal- 
culusl 
“Another but almost as important point is the effect 
produced by the alkaline nature of most hard water. 
“The reaction of the urine in health is acid, and in 
many diseases, alkaline—the alkalinity being also easily 
produced by taking alkaline medicines, ‘ hard' water 
also producing this effect. 
“Accordingly we find that, in seasons when the Lon- 
don water is particularly hard, many physicians find 
it necessary to put patients suffering from digestive, IMPURE WATER. 
219 
intestinal, and renal diseases upon distilled water as a 
drink, exclusively, and with the happiest effects. 
“Reverting to the subject of calculous diseases, we 
shall find that a geological map of Great Britain shows 
beds of chalk and allied carbonates extending along 
the eastern coast, running as far north as Scotland. 
This fact explains why we read, in Holmes’ ‘ System 
of Surgery’ (perhaps the best-text-book on the sub- 
ject in the world), the remark that ‘calculous disorders 
are extremely prevalent along the eastern coast of this 
country, and are found as far north as Scotland’—that 
is, wherever the soil is full of carbonates of soda and 
lime, the water will dissolve it, become ‘hard,’ and 
produce calculi in the inhabitants. There is reason to 
believe that other diseases are influenced by the use 
of calcareous water, as seen in the ‘Cretins’ in Swit- 
zerland, and the prevalence of goitre in Derbyshire, a 
county notorious for water contaminated by earthy 
salts. 
“In the ‘Report of the London Board of Health on 
the Water Supply,’ 1850, it is remarked that, ‘since 
the supply of soft water to this city, urinary and dys- 
peptic complaints are less frequent, continued fevers 
more seldom and less severe.’ (This includes typhoid, 
typhus, and relapsing fevers, of course.) 
“Dr. Paton, of Paisley, Scotland, has noticed that 
since the introduction of soft water into that town 
(which formerly depended upon calcareous wells), cal- 
culous disorders are very rare, while formerly they 
were very numerous. He has also noticed that in the 
two cholera epidemics those families using well-water 
were far more severely afflicted than those supplied 220 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
with the city water, very pure and soft. One very in- 
structive case he notes: Cholera broke out in a sub- 
urb, built high and dry on a limestone ridge, the air 
pure and bracing, drainage excellent, but the water 
mostly derived from wells sunk in the rock. Few per- 
sons here escaped cholera, except a family here and 
there who had no well, but depended upon the city 
supply. 
“After the epidemic at Paisley had subsided, it was 
found that there had been 848 cases of cholera, and it 
was estimated that the district supplied by wells con- 
tained only about A of all the inhabitants of the town, 
the other A of the people using city water. It was 
found that this A that used well-water had no less than 
502 cholera cases among them, while the other A, who 
used pure water, had only 346 cases—that is, taking 
the average rate of illness among the A of the people 
of Paisley, the A should have had only 39 cases in- 
stead of 502, which they did have, apparently from 
using hard water alone. 
“All large consumers of water find hardness to be a 
nuisance in many trades, especially to those using 
steam, the reason being that hard water is largely con- 
taminated with carbonates and sulphates, the former 
held in solution by carbonic acid, the latter by the water 
itself. When the water is vaporized the C O* is driven 
off by the heat, and the water at once becomes turbid 
by the separation and deposition of the carbonates, 
which settle as ‘ scale ’ on the boiler and flues. As 
soon as the water becomes somewhat concentrated by 
continuous vaporization, the sulphates begin to add to 
the deposit by slowly separating out and falling to the IMPURE WATER. 
221 
lowest part of the boiler. These compound deposits, 
known to all housewives as ‘fur in the tea-kettle/ and 
to engineers as scale, are not only a source of expense, 
from being non-conductors of heat, but at times prove 
dangerous, from suddenly cracking and allowing the 
water to come into contact with red-hot metal, resulting 
in a rapid evolution of steam, or sometimes in an explo- 
sion. In many parts of the country this fact compels 
steam users to employ apparatus specially constructed 
to purify the water prior to using it in the boiler. 
“All trades using much soap are also sensibly incon- 
venienced by calcareous water, as not only must about 
twice the usual amount of soap be used, but a consid- 
erable quantity of soda in addition, to soften the water. 
The cost of hard water to London, in excess of what 
soft water would cost, is well shown as follows :— 
“London uses about 1000 tons of soap per month— 
that is, 12,000 tons per annum—worth, roughly, about 
$250 a ton ; that is $3,000,000 per annum paid for soap 
only. Now, half of this soap is wasted, for it would not 
be used if the water was soft—say $1,500,000 wasted 
on soap every year! 
“It is estimated that 250 tons of bicarbonate of soda 
are used per month, in London, for softening the water ; 
this, at $60 per ton, is $15,000 per month, and $180,- 
000 per year ; adding cost of soap and soda, we have 
one million, six hundred and eighty thousand dollars 
wasted per year, only as payment for the folly of using 
hard water. Let us now compare a few figures, show- 
ing analyses of different waters. London (bad river 
water), Rhine, at Bale (good river water), hard well 
(Trafalgar Square, London):— 222 
IIOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
GOOD CITY WATER. 
(Glasgow, Loch Katrine, Croton, N. Y., and Ridgewood, 
Brooklyn.) 
Minerals. 
Thames. 
Rhine. 
Hard. Well. 
Glasgow. 
New York. 
Brooklyn. 
Lime 
83.8 
55-5 
18.8 
i-9 
Av. 3 mo. 
Av 3 mo. 
1868. 
1868. 
Magnesia.. 
4-7 
4.8 
9.1 
0.8 
9.2 
0.6 
265.3 
Inorganic 
Matter. 
Inorganic 
Matter. 
Potash 
4.2 
— 
99.O 
— 
96 
64.4 
Carbonic 
Acid 
119.9 
86.2 
197.0 
i-7 
Sulphuric 
Acid 
3M 
15.4 
I80.5 
5.6 
Nitric Acid. 
— 
— 
— 
Organic 
Matter... 
49-7 
3-3 
13.0 
Vegetable 
only. 
11-4 
28.1 
11.8 
“The figures are parts per million, by weight. 
“Five minutes occupied in studying this table will be 
well spent, as the figures are from the highest author- 
ity, and guaranteed correct; any one unfamiliar with 
the subject, may get a better idea of what makes water 
good or bad by looking over the table than reading a 
large book. 
“The article in the paper which I have criticised has 
been very properly strenuous, as regards organic con- 
tamination, which, beyond all question, is the most dan- 
gerous of all impurity. 
“Too much stress cannot be laid on this point, as 
many valuable lives have been lost to the world 
through this insidious poison. 
“Organic materials find their way into water from 
various sources, any decomposing animal or vegetable 
substances being a convenient point of origin, such as IMPURE WATER. 
223 
dead bodies of animals, or drainage from cemeteries, 
leakage of sewage or sewer gas, soakage into wells or 
water courses from heavily manured fields, barn-yards, 
pig-styes, or any other focus of decomposition. 
“A few examples will illustrate this fact. During the 
two cholera epidemics of London, it was found that two 
water companies, the ‘ Lambeth’ and the ‘ Southwark,’ 
had laid their mains side by side through many streets, 
thus supplying water to the same neighborhoods all 
over London. 
“Some people took of one company, some of the 
other, to the amount of 500,000 individuals, who were 
as evenly as possible divided among the two com- 
panies, being in the same condition elsewise, as regards 
cleanliness, social status and respectability. It was dis- 
covered, however, that those supplied by the ‘Lam- 
beth’ company died at the rate of 37 per 10,000, while the 
‘Southwark’ people died at the rate of 130 per 10,000. 
It was at once suspected that the different mortality 
was probably influenced by some difference in the na- 
ture of the waters, and on examination it was discov- 
ered that while the ‘Lambeth’ company went high up 
the Thames for its supply, far above city sewage or 
tidal contamination, the ‘Southwark’ pumped its water 
at Chelsea, a point near large sewers and seriously 
affected by tidal changes. 
“The river at Calcutta is intolerably foul, being con- 
taminated not only by many thousand dead animals 
cast yearly into its stream, but also with 15,000 human 
corpses every year. Besides all this, the contiguous 
population add their quota in the shape of some forty 
tons daily of various excreta ! 224 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
“Calcutta is now (since five or six years) tolerably 
well supplied by filtered water, taken out some 15 
miles up the river by pipes and reservoirs, but, even 
when the city is healthy, a very severe type of sporadic 
cholera and dysentery is seen to prevail on board ships 
lying in the Hooghly, due simply to the fact that the 
water used is drawn up the ship’s side in a bucket, and, 
of course, foul with organic detritus. 
“The facts are almost identically the same at the port 
of Shanghai. 
“In the year 1859 severe enteric fever prevailed at 
Bristol, England, and was easily traced to contamina- 
tion of the wells by sewage and soil soakage. 
“This is the curse of many a lovely country town 
where the farmers have such a fatal fondness for group- 
ing barn-yards, pig-styes, and all sorts of unmentionable 
nuisances in as close proximity to the house and well 
as possible ! The result is, that in this country typhoid 
fever is far more a rural than an urban disease, especi- 
ally in New England. This is the reason why I object 
to admitting that good water is ‘much easier had in 
the country than the city,’ for, as things are, I would 
much rather drink an unknown city water than an un- 
known specimen from the country. 
“These enteric fevers betray some curious facts. For 
example, in October, 1847, the inmates of 13 houses, 
scattered in various parts of a short street in Clifton, 
England, suddenly went down with typhoid, and no 
cause was suspected until it was accidentallyfound that 
these 13 houses were supplied with water from one well; 
the other 21 houses, all well, took water elsewhere. 
“The suspected well was analyzed, and found foul IMPURE WATER. 
225 
with sewage; the water supply was changed, and most 
of the sick recovered.—Lancet, 1859, p. 432. 
“Milk, watered from a foul well, has repeatedly been 
known to produce epidemics of enteric fever. 
“In Holland, during the first ten years of the century, 
the English expeditions suffered great loss from the 
so-called ‘ Walcheren fever! The country was a vast, 
stinking mud-bank at low tide, and the forces on 
shore died by hundreds, while the men-of-war lying in 
the river and exposed to all the foul air, carried their 
crews in high health! Why ? The ships had water- 
casks filled in England; the land troops had to drink 
the marsh water, and died rapidly.—Davis on ‘ Wal- 
cheren Fever,’ 1810, p. 15. 
“There is no reason why, in a civilized country, safe 
drinking water cannot be found for human beings ; the 
fact that so many risks are run is only another example 
of the old adage, ‘ Popidus vult decipere! 
“The public never wakes up to any great sanitary or 
moral purpose until either life or property is over- 
whelmed by some cataclysm. When people are com- 
pelled to understand the necessity of hygiene by epi- 
demics of the enteric fevers, diphtheria, croup, scarla- 
tina, small-pox, etc., there will be found no difficulty in 
providing a remedy. 
“Until the ‘good time comes,’ let us try to formulate 
our knowledge as follows :— 
“1. No water unfit for washing in is fit to drink. 
“2. All soft water possessing a visible color, taste or 
odor is probably unsafe, but can be made potable by 
bringing it up to ioo° C. (2120 F.) and keeping it there 
for five minutes. 226 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
“3* Rain water is the easiest accessible source of soft 
water; when caught in a proper cistern, from a clean 
roof, especially during the last half of a long rain, 
when both air and roof have been washed clean, it 
makes a very clear and sparkling water, and is always 
better after filtering through charcoal, being then 
healthful. 
“4. Hard waters are apt to act as a cathartic on those 
used to pure water, because they are generally dilute 
saline sol., such as we use for that purpose medicinally. 
“5. Organic impurity is often the source of very fatal 
epidemics, and is by many believed to be one of the 
great sources of contagion in typhoid fever and cholera. 
“Remember, that three-tenth grains of organic mat- 
ter per gallon {jfon of one per cent.) has been known 
to do harm. 
“A tolerably accurate test, and useful if organic mat- 
ter is suspected, is as follows:— 
“Sol. A.—Take 200 cctn. water, add two or three 
drops hydrogen sulphate. 
“Sol. B.—Prepare a solution of permanganate of po- 
tassium, of the strength of thirty-two centigrams per 
litre of distilled water. Thoroughly mix three drops 
of Sol. B. in Sol. A and note time If Sol. A is 
bleached in less than ten minutes, organic matter is pro- 
bably present in sufficient quantity to do harm/' 
I will quote some very sensible advice, plainly word- 
ed, which, in a recent issue, the Times furnished to its 
readers: “Two leading ideas should be constantly 
borne in mind by every human being who sits down to 
a meal. The first is that most people nullify the bene- 
fit of their meals by eating too rapidly. The other is 227 
CHEERFUL SURROUNDINGS. 
that the neglect to be cheerful while eating is a com- 
mon cause of dyspeptic wretchedness. 
“ The haste with which the American business man 
devours his food has become proverbial the world over. 
To see the average eater at his mid-day lunch, is to be 
struck with the idea that the poor fellow is devouring 
his last meal, and that he has but a few moments be- 
fore being led out to execution. It is not only that the 
man is too hasty for his own personal good, but by his 
example he communicates the bad habit to his family 
at home, as he sits at meat with them. They all acquire 
the custom of bolting their food in such a manner as to 
secure the least advantage from it, and the greatest 
amount of physical discomfort. 
“ Even worse than eating rapidly is the habit of par- 
taking of meals in a lonely and cheerless manner. Man 
was not made to be a hermit. The wretch who lives 
in a cell, on prison fare, may derive nourishment from 
what he eats, and may even grow corpulent; but meals 
eaten as he has to eat them become marvels of misery. 
To have to sit down with gloomy and severe people, 
even at a well spread table, is quite as bad as to eat in 
the confinement of a jail. The appetite, which should 
be the spice of the meal, is chilled by the cheerless, and 
the digestion which should follow it is a failure. 
“ The brightest hope for the eater is when the sun- 
light makes the room brilliant, when cheery chat makes 
those who surround the table to sparkle with good 
humor, and when the hearty laugh shows that good 
fellowship is at its height. For long life and prosper- 
ity, let us banish from our tables all that is disagree- 
able, sour, vixenish, and gloomy. Let us eat our meals 228 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
in as deliberate leisure as possible, and with a view to 
getting the greatest enjoyment and benefit from it,” be- 
cause, in conclusion, “to eat well is to nourish, to nourish 
is to make good blood, and good blood makes good 
cheer, and good cheer good friends, and good friends 
make happiness. Therefore, to eat well makes happi- 
ness.” WHAT IS EXERCISE? 
229 
CHAPTER IX. 
HOW TO EXERCISE. 
You all know that you ought to exercise; you do a 
great deal of talking about it, advise others to take 
exercise, and fail, in the majority of cases, to do so your- 
selves. Very few persons realize what true exercise 
means, and what purpose is to be accomplished by it. 
Those who stop to consider the subject at all seem to 
imagine that, when taking exercise, it is necessary for 
them to perform the most violent exertion, to strain 
and stretch all parts of the body and to keep up this 
motion until they are literally exhausted and absolutely 
unable to do any more. 
This idea is not only erroneous, but it is injurious, 
and if persevered in will be productive of much harm. 
Exercise really means, when viewed from a rational 
standpoint, only a slight, gentle and gradual movement 
of every portion of the human body. Violent move- 
ments cease to be exercise and become injurious. 
The grand fundamental rule holds good in the ques- 
tion of exercise, as in all the other duties of life, that 
excess can only be condemned. We must ever realize 
this fact. When once brought into the world, through 
the agency of our parents, and reared to that period 
when we become independent beings, it is the easiest 
thing imaginable to shorten our lives and to die young; 
while it is an exceedingly difficult thing, when viewed 
from the standpoint of ordinary humanity, to attain old 230 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
age; that is to say, the natural tendencies of human 
nature lean more toward those actions and that mode 
of life that will tend to shorten existence, than in the 
direction of those calculated to prolong it. 
It will be well, therefore, at the outset, to understand 
what exercise really means, when we can go on to con- 
sider how to use it. 
In nearly every portion of the body we find muscular 
tissue. This tissue is what you are used to call flesh. 
It is the material you see before you when a roast of 
beef is placed on the table. The skin has been re- 
moved, the fat is seen covering the roast, while the 
meat itself is seen as an apparently solid, stringy, 
fibrous mass of flesh. This is the muscle of the ani- 
mal. If you were to kill a calf the day it was born, 
you would find precisely the same muscles that would 
be found in a cow six years old. But they would be 
small and very delicate; it would be an easy thing to 
chew them into pulp; hence, veal is considered very 
tender and very delicate. 
The young baby (as the young calf) has exactly the 
same muscles that its father and mother have, but 
they are extremely delicate and tender. They could 
be easily torn apart. As the calf grows older its mus- 
cles become stronger; the very act of walking about, 
looking for grass to eat tends to strengthen these 
muscles. But just here comes in an analogy, worthy of 
note. A strong man is often described as, “as power- 
ful as an ox.” Did it ever occur to you that an “ ox ” 
does not frequent gymnasiums, neither does he row, 
or swim, or enter walking matches ; lions, tigers, ele- 
phants and the like are considered prodigies of VOLUNTARY MUSCLES. 
231 
strength; but they never resort to any artificial means 
to develop this much admired strength. This easy 
and natural acquisition of vigor and power suggests 
a lesson that I will teach you further on. Now, this 
same muscular tissue exists in many of the vital organs 
of the body. It is found in the heart, the intestines 
or bowels, the stomach, and so on. All the mechanical 
performances of life are executed through its agency. 
When you lift your arm or leg, you do so by the con- 
traction of a muscle or muscles. When your bowels 
evacuate their contents, they do so by the contraction 
of the muscular tissue in their coats or in the walls of 
the tubes. By far the larger portion of the body of 
man is made up of muscular tissue. Each and every 
motion of any particular muscle has a tendency to 
toughen this particular muscle, to render it harder, 
more consistent and stronger. So, then, briefly, you 
can understand the purposes of exercise ; you know 
that it has the effect of hardening and rendering 
tougher, and consequently capable of longer life, any 
muscle that may be so exercised, or kept in motion; 
because exercise really means motion. 
It will now be well for you to understand that there 
are two classes of muscles in the body. What we call 
the voluntary and the involuntary. The first include 
all muscles that are under the direct control of the 
will. Thus, whenever you perform any voluntary mo- 
tion (except thought) it is done through the agency of a 
voluntary muscle. When you raise a leg in walking, or 
an arm in striking, or you move your fingers in writing, 
such motion is voluntary; you wish it to be done, it is un- 
der the control of your will, hence such movements are 232 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
performed by the action of voluntary muscles. Anything 
requiring motion for its accomplishment, and needing 
your will to direct it, is a voluntary act, and must 
always be performed by voluntary muscles. 
Under the second class, we have such muscles as 
act independently of the will, and are not influenced by 
it. The most perfect illustration of this class is the 
heart. From the day of birth until the hour of death, 
this muscle contracts, relaxes and contracts again, 
day after day, some sixty or seventy times every 
minute of life, sending the vital fluid throughout the 
body, while it is absolutely independent of the will. 
No man can by any voluntary effort cause his heart to 
beat faster or slower. It is true, that certain emotions, 
such as fear, shame, anger, and the like, will cause an 
unnatural depression or exaltation of its action, but, 
when so irregularly acting, let any man try to con- 
trol it, and he will soon understand that his heart is not 
under the control of his will. Take a bashful man, for 
example, and let any one say, in his presence, some 
words of flattery; his heart will commence to thump 
against the chest walls, his cheeks will become crim- 
son, his head will throb, and to save his life he could 
not control his heart’s tumultuous action. This clearly 
indicates that the heart is not under the control of the 
will, and is plainly an involuntary muscle. The mus- 
cles in the coats or lining of the bowel are the same. 
A constipated man can realize this, when he remem- 
bers how frequently he has voluntarily strained, and 
strained, without being able to have a passage. This 
muscular coat, or these muscular fibres, are not under 
the control of the will, and cannot be made to contract INVOLUNTARY MUSCELS. 
233 
directly by it. So also with the blood vessels; they 
contain muscular tissue, the contraction of which en- 
ables them to force the blood throughout the body. The 
heart alone could not overcome the resistance offered 
by the pressure of the various parts of the body to the 
passage of the blood through the blood vessels, so that 
the auxiliary aid of the muscular contraction in the 
walls of the vessels is necessary. These muscles are 
involuntary; no one could possibly, by his own will, 
force the blood more rapidly, or less so, than it may 
happen to be moving. So, then, you can understand 
the difference between voluntary and involuntary mus- 
cles. The first are those that act only under the direc- 
tion of your will; the second are those over which you 
have no voluntary control whatsoever. The same 
rule holds good for both classes: motion is necessary 
for their healthy existence, but too much motion, and too 
violent motion is injurious to both. 
No physician can tell you the intimate why certain 
physiological or diseased phenomena occur, but they 
can tell you positively, as a result of extended research, 
observation and experience, that they do occur. 
So, then, while we can tell you roughly and explain 
to a certain point, that a sufficiency of exercise is neces- 
sary, and an excess of it injurious, we cannot penetrate 
the hidden mysteries, and demonstrate exactly why 
these facts are facts. But we can say, and say it posi 
tively, that exercise is necessary to the physical and 
mental welfare of the human being; that without it 
long life will be impossible. 
I will now divide exercise into two parts, and con- 
sider them separately: I, Physical; II, Mental. 234 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
By physical exercise, I mean the use or motion of 
the muscular portion of mankind. Grossly, it might 
be defined “ motion of the muscles,” but this definition 
requires distillation and refinement. As I said in the 
beginning, the majority of persons seem to consider 
that if they exercise until they experience great fatigue, 
they have accomplished this purpose. Here they 
make a grievous error. Fatigue evinces an exhaus- 
tion, an overtaxing of the vital power, and is injurious. 
It may seem to the ardent athlete that excessive use 
and exercise of his muscles is beneficial, but this seem- 
ing is only an illusion, and is not a fact. To believe 
this, you have only to recall the numberless instances 
among your acquaintances where men, for a time 
remarkable for their brute strength, have suddenly 
succumbed and died young, or dragged out a misera- 
ble existence of ill health, ultimately dying sooner than 
they ought to have done. Witness the recent case of 
the famous English pedestrian, who, after winning 
several walking matches and exhibiting wonderful evi- 
dences of endurance, finally has given up when only 
twenty-eight years old, and will most probably be a con- 
firmed invalid for the rest of his life. Many men have 
ruined themselves by excessive rowing, swimming or 
walking, and I will tell you why. When a muscle is 
exercised or used, a portion of its constituents are con- 
sumed. As I have already told you, every act of life 
entails, as the result of its performance, the destruction 
of its former composition ; its elements become disen- 
tegrated; they are chemically changed, and this change 
gives rise to the force necessary to perform the action. 
PHYSICAL EXERCISE. 235 
MODERATE EXERCISE. 
But when these particles are used up, it is necessary 
for new ones to take their place, else the body will 
suffer for the want of them. These new particles are 
derived from the blood; the blood comes from the 
heart. Now, then, if these particles of tissue are con- 
sumed abnormally fast, their places must be supplied 
abnormally quickly; hence an undue, unnatural and 
unjust demand is made upon the heart to supply them. 
It endeavors to fulfill this demand, and in doing so 
is overtaxed ; it works hard, and consequently becomes 
exhausted, when disease of this organ ensues. Thus, 
then, you can understand that excessive exercise of any 
kind is very apt to produce heart disease. 
A man can develop his external or visible muscular 
system to a wonderful degree ; he can become a per- 
fect Hercules; he can be the admiration of his friends; 
he can perform the most marvelous feats of strength, 
and yet, when such excessive external development 
takes place, it is usually at the expense of the internal 
vital organs. The longest lived men have not been 
noted for their great muscular strength. Indeed, it has 
often been almost the reverse. We frequently find 
long and healthy life in comparatively weakly external 
cases or bodies. This is because, as I have already 
said, excessive development of any one part must 
necessarily take place at the expense of some other 
portion. But, in order that the longest, healthiest and 
most pleasant life may be lived, every part of the 
human body must in turn be developed and exercised, 
easily, quietly, moderately and sufficiently. Just as 
excessive mental development is usually accomplished 
at the expense of physical strength and vice versa, so 236 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
excessive development of any one part, or any partic- 
ular set of muscles, must take place at the expense of 
all other parts. 
Now that you understand what exercise means, that 
exercise and motion are synonymous terms, I will proceed 
to point out how this exercise can be obtained, so that it 
will prove beneficial and will not be productive of injury. 
When, during the stormy days of winter, it becomes 
impossible for the wealthy man to drive his spirited 
horses, he is obliged to let them stand week after week 
in the stable ; but realizing that this inactivity will be 
injurious to them, he directs the coachman to daily take 
them out for a few minutes, and quietly walk them up 
and down the neighboring streets. He is too sensible 
to harness them up to a carriage, and drive them as 
fast as they can go for many miles, stopping only when 
the horses are out of wind and utterly unable to run 
any further. He knows that this violent work would 
be calculated to strain the heart and other vital organs, 
and ruin his valuable horses for life. But when this 
same rich man’s son becomes a young man, he encour- 
ages him to frequent gymnasiums, places where I am 
sure more young* men have been physically ruined than 
have been benefited. There are two reasons for this, 
and I must clearly explain my reasons for making a 
statement so at variance with the generally accepted 
ideas of mankind. In the first place, nearly all the 
methods of exercise in common use in gymnasiums are 
too violent; they require too much expenditure of 
force, too much effort for their accomplishment. Look 
at a young man who has for a few minutes been exer- 
cising on parallel or horizontal bars; stand before him, EVILS OF GYMNASIUMS. 
237 
and what will you see ? A flushed face, panting from 
shortness of breath, he is hardly able to speak for a few 
minutes. Place your hand over his heart; it is striking 
with sledge-hammer force against the walls of the 
chest, and is acting unnaturally and unnecessarily 
rapid; that is, unnecessarily so to maintain health, 
though this rapid action is essential to the condition in 
which he then is. After a few minutes, and before the 
heart has thoroughly regained its normal condition, he 
goes off to the horse, and vaults over and over again, 
until he has again brought his whole body into that 
unnatural condition of strain already noted. Then to 
something else, and so on, until finally he becomes so 
tired and exhausted that he is incapable of any further 
exertion; then, and not till then, does he desist. 
This mode of exercise would be similar in its final 
results to those ensuing upon repeated violent and pro- 
longed driving of horses. It would develop the exter- 
nal muscles, making the young man lithe, strong and 
graceful in his movements, but the delicate internal 
organs would suffer. 
Secondly, by the indiscriminate mixing of boys and 
young men of full ages, that must necessarily occur in 
public gymnasiums, an additional danger is created, 
namely, emulation, or example. When a small boy 
sees a larger one vault over a horizontal bar, five feet 
from the ground, his pride is stirred, and he will not be 
satisfied until he has accomplished the same feat. So 
he tries and tries, and strains and strains. It becomes 
his ambition to lift and exercise with as heavy a dumb- 
bell as some friend several years older is able to handle, 
and here again he overstrains himself. 238 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
These two examples will serve to illustrate the point 
I desire to make. Young America is too go-ahead, 
too independent, proud and ambitious to allow any one 
else to do more than he can do, if it is at all within the 
bounds of possibility to accomplish the same. 
A few words about the formation and function of the 
heart will make clear to you how easily this strain on 
it can oroduce serious derangement. The heart is 
really a pump, a muscular pump, about the size of your 
fist. It might be compared to the rubber-bulb on the 
tube of an ordinary Davidson’s Syringe, with which 
nearly every one is familiar. It is the duty of the heart 
to force the blood throughout the body When you 
compress the bulb of the syringe, having previously 
dipped the lower end of the tube into the liquid, and 
then remove the pressure of your hand, the bulb 
expands, and doing so, draws the liquid into the bulb, 
through the tube. When you again compress the bulb, 
the liquid does not, as would be supposed, flow out of 
the lower tube into the basin again, but being forced 
against gravity, ascends the upper tube and is injected 
out of the upper opening. It fails to flow downward 
for one simple reason, because it cannot. Just at the 
junction of the lower tube with the bulb is arranged a 
little movable valve ; when the liquid is drawn up, this 
valve is displaced upward and allows the liquid to 
enter, but when the bulb is again compressed, it is 
forced down into the opening, thus preventing the 
regurgitation of the fluid and compelling it to flow 
upward against gravity. If you were to place the lower 
opening of the syringe in a bucket of water, and alter- 
nately compress and allow to expand again the bulb, ACTION OF THE HEART. 
239 
doing this some seventy or eighty times a minute, you 
would have a very good representation of the heart’s 
action. The heart is divided into four cavities, in each 
one of which the blood for a time resides. When it 
flows from one into another, it passes through an 
opening provided with a valve, and when the heart 
contracts to cause this flow, these valves shut down, 
each against its own particular opening, and thus pre- 
venting regurgitation, keep the blood where it natur- 
ally belongs and cause it to flow in proper channels. 
If you compress the bulb of the syringe, gently and 
equably, it will last a long time. But if you use it 
roughly, compressing it violently and irregularly, forc- 
ing the valve harshly against the walls of the opening, 
you may by such rough friction wear it gradually away, 
until it becomes too small to thoroughly protect the 
opening, when the liquid will regurgitate into the lower 
tube, and the syringe is faulty. 
The valves of the heart are infinitely more delicate 
than that of the syringe, and much more easily deranged. 
They are composed of thin tissue, hardly thicker than 
tissue-paper, and are held in position by thin and deli- 
cate cords, like fine cotton thread. Were it not for 
these cords the free ends of the valves (to which they 
are attached) would be carried back into the openings 
at each contraction of the heart, and would not be 
able to offer any impediment to the regurgitation of 
the blood. 
The valves become disordered and incapacitated in 
many ways, from disease, but with these deranged con- 
ditions we have nothing to do, since our subject will 
treat only of mechanical disturbances, such as are pro- 240 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
duced by strain from excessive exercise. By violent 
contraction or compression of the syringe-bulb the 
subsequent dilatation will be correspondingly great, 
and rubber being elastic, the bulb, by repeated abuse, 
will become abnormally distended. The heart is like- 
wise elastic, and can become distended. If it is forced 
to repeatedly contract excessively, to furnish an ex- 
cessive amount of blood to repair excessive waste or 
consumption of tissue, due to excessive exercise, it will 
ultimately become distended. The various orifices 
through which the blood passes from one cavity of the 
heart to another and finally leaves it to enter the blood 
vessels, are, of course, much smaller than the cavities 
themselves. Therefore, when this organ contracts, 
you understand that it will force against these openings 
more blood than can pass through them; so that at 
all times more or less strain or pressure is thrown on 
these openings; but when the heart is only acting with 
its natural force this pressure is not sufficient to exert a 
hurtful influence; the walls of the openings and the 
valves are sufficiently strong and possess a sufficiency 
of resisting power to adequately oppose this pressure. 
When, however, the heart is acting and contracting 
unnaturally rapidly and with abnormal force, the case 
is different. The column of blood, thrown with great 
force and violence against these valves, may strike their 
surface with such vigor as to tear or break some of the 
cords that hold them in position, when, as I have 
already demonstrated, their free ends, no longer under 
the control of these cords, will be carried by the cur- 
rent of blood back into the openings, and regurgitation 
will occur. This is a comparatively rare accident. The ACTION OF THE HEART. 
241 
most frequent disastrous results of excessive action of 
the heart occur as follows: The blood thrown, with 
the unnatural force described, against these openings, 
after being frequently repeated, finally commences to 
gradually dilate and expand these elastic openings. As 
a result the valves are too small to thoroughly protect 
these abnormally large openings. Thus, when the 
heart contracts, and the valves take their position, a 
crevice is left, through which the blood regurgitates. 
Again, an accident which, though very rare, is pos- 
sible and does occasionally occur, deserves notice, since 
it proves immediately and invariably fatal. A heart 
weakened by some disease, and distended by excessive 
action, may on some suddenly great exertion give way 
or rupture (just as a rotten hose will do under a great 
water pressure); the blood will pour out into the cavity 
of the chest and the victim will die in a very short time. 
Two of these accidents are very infrequent, while the 
third is of very common occurrence. It would require 
a pathological dissertation that would be tiresome and 
unintelligible, to explain to you why this regurgitation 
of blood will be injurious. It will suffice to say that 
there is a place in this world for everything. The mer- 
chant has certain places in which to keep his books 
and papers ; the farmer for his tools, utensils and 
machinery; and the housekeeper for her brushes, 
brooms and dust rags. If these various articles are 
not kept in the places designated for them, confusion 
and trouble ensue. So it is with the human body; 
there is a place for and an order of things, that are 
absolutely essential to healthy life; while any deviation 
from these natural laws is sure to be followed sooner 242 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
or later by disease. If the accurate adaptation of these 
valves and the prevention of regurgitation were not 
necessary to healthy life, they would not be so accur- 
ately fitted. While there are many of the more intimate 
phenomena of life that we cannot penetrate, yet we 
do know that every portion of the human body has 
been designed with a wonderfully wise purpose, and that 
nothing exists unnecessarily. By this regurgitation, 
the column of blood coming to the heart from all por- 
tions of the body, will be pressed upon. If the valve 
in the syringe acts imperfectly, the column of water 
pressing backward will interfere with the suction of 
that in the basin. So the blood, pressing back on that 
endeavoring to reach the heart, in the vessels running 
to that organ, will interfere with its free passage, will 
dam it up, as it were. These blood vessels pass 
through the different vital organs of the body, carry- 
ing nourishment to them and removing their dead 
tissue. If, then, the blood is caused to remain abnorm- 
ally long in them, this stagnation will take place within 
the substance of some of the vital organs, since all the 
blood vessels of the body communicate one with 
another, and a congestion of such organ or part will 
be the consequence, thus predisposing it to disease. 
I have used the heart to illustrate the dangers of 
excessive exercise, because this organ, as you can now 
understand, from what I have told you of its formation 
and duties, is the one most apt to be influenced by 
this indiscretion, while it is the important centre of life, 
upon the integrity of which so greatly depends the 
proper performance of duty on the part of all the 
other organs. WALKING. 
243 
Besides gymnasiums, there are other forms of physical 
exercise that come under this same category of excess : 
Rowing, swimming, riding, walking, all can be carried 
to injurious excess; but some are much more liable to 
be abused than others. Thus, rowing, in a certain 
form, cannot be too much condemned, while, when 
judiciously resorted to, it constitutes one of the most 
commendable and healthful of exercises. We will now 
consider the different forms of exercise most com- 
monly resorted to, and point out how each may be 
made beneficial or injurious; premising, however, as 
you will now be ready to believe, that the habit of fre- 
quenting gymnasiums for exercise is so very apt to be 
injurious, that it is worthy of a general condemnation. 
Walking.—Par excellence, walking is the exercise for 
a healthy man. When a man walks, he is exercising 
nearly every muscle and portion of his body. It is not 
considered graceful to swing the arms when walking, but 
grace and fashion must quail and give way before the 
dictates and laws of health, and a man ought to swing 
his arms as much as natural dictates would indicate, 
since by so doing he will exercise them. If he does do 
this, stop and reflect a moment what takes place. His 
legs and all the muscles connected with them are in 
motion ; his arms and adjacent parts are receiving the 
same motion. When walking, place your hand on any 
portion of the body, and you will be surprised to find 
that there is motion in such part, and you will be grati- 
fied to learn that such motion means exercise. Those 
portions of the body that you would least imagine are 
in reality in motion when you are walking. In addition 
to the exercise of the external and voluntary muscles, 244 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
all the internal parts are kept in motion and are exer- 
cised. The pedometer (an instrument to measure the 
distance walked) is based on this fact. Every time 
you put your foot on the ground, every portion of the 
body is healthily jarred, every organ and part is slightly 
concussed; it is shaken up, as it were, and its health in- 
creased, and its life lengthened. From the sole of the 
foot to the very hair of the head, every particle is kept in 
motion, and is consequently exercised. Thepedometer, 
an instrument with works similar to a watch, is loosely 
hung from the upper part of the vest pocket; as the 
body jars at each step, a lever is forced up and down, 
which gives motion to the works; each step is regis- 
tered, and a hand on a figured dial registers the num- 
ber of miles walked. This delicate instrument does 
more than merely record for satisfaction the distance 
covered; it proves conclusively the concussion or 
shaking or moving of the body in walking, and speaks 
louder than words in favor of pedestrianism as an exer- 
cise. But walking can be abused; like every other good 
thing in this world, too much of it is worse than none at 
all. For the same reasons that gymnasiums are inju- 
rious to the integrity of the heart, so walking will be, 
if injudiciously carried out. If you walk exceedingly 
fast, you use up muscular tissue unnaturally quickly, 
and the heart is called upon to supply the demand in 
an abnormally short time. Therefore, over-exertion 
on the part of this organ will be apt to produce the 
diseased conditions already noted. You can know 
that you are walking too fast, when you become very 
short of breath. There is not near so much danger of 
walking too far as there is of walking too fast. Fa- AVOID EXCESS. 
245 
tigue, gradually coming, will warn you when you have 
walked far enough, and you will rest; besides, the de- 
mand made upon the heart from this cause will be of a 
totally different nature. The demand will be great and 
unnecessary, it is true, but it will be gradual, and not in 
the nature of a strain. The heart may become tired 
from this extra work, but it will not be strained, since no 
sudden, extraordinary demand has been made upon it. 
It may be required to furnish more nourishment, but the 
request will be gentle and easy, and will produce only a 
fatigue from which subsequent rest will enable the heart 
to thoroughly recuperate. A continuous walk of twenty 
miles in six or seven hours will be much less injurious 
than five miles walked in one hour. You can realize 
and demonstrate the truth of this statement if you 
desire. Start out some time and walk five or six miles 
as fast as you can. In a short time you will find you 
are getting short of breath ; your heart will commence 
to beat very rapidly, your head to throb, your body to 
feel warm, and when you are through you will be 
almost gasping for breath, while your heart will be 
beating so rapidly and forcibly as to be plainly felt 
against the chest wall. This excessive action will en- 
tail the same dangers that the gymnasium will. Here, 
again, you will note what I have so frequently said, that 
excess is the dangerous factor and the enemy to health- 
and long life. The merchant whose office is a mile or 
two from his house will derive a sufficiency of exercise 
by walking to and from his place of business. So will 
the lawyer. The farmer following his plow needs 
no other exercise, save that which I will presently de- 
scribe for the evening. 246 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
Therefore, to sum up, walking is a splendid exercise 
for all parts of the body; there is none better; but, 
like everything else, it must be indulged in with judg- 
ment. Look at the clerks and salesmen; those, I 
mean, who are anxious to live long and healthy lives, 
who are sensible. Confined to their offices nearly 
every day in the year, when a holiday comes (and they 
come too rarely in this country, they are too much like 
angels’ visits) they make up a party for a long walk in 
the country, believing it to be the best and most sen- 
sible way in which they can spend the day. While it 
will be much more to their benefit than the other 
extreme to which so many young Americans resort, of 
passing all spare time in bar-rooms, yet it is not the 
best thing to do, for the reasons already given. They 
are not accustomed to this great muscular exertion, 
hence it becomes excess, and is injurious. So, then, 
there is such a thing as too much walking. In general 
terms, it may be said that four or five miles a day will 
be sufficient for the ordinary business man. It would 
be much better for young men to spend one-half their 
holidays in reading, and the other in gentle, easy, quiet 
walking, covering not more than four or five miles. 
Do not allow yourself to be tempted to excess by some 
companion who may happen to be more of a pedes- 
trian than yourself, else you will regret it. When you 
feel tired, and are short of breath, sit down and rest. 
I remember once, when I lived in the country, meeting 
a gentleman at the station who inquired from me the 
location of a neighbor of mine; I told him that I was 
going that way and would point out the house to him. 
I had frequently walked from the station to my house; WALK SYSTEMATICALLY. 
247 
in fact, ordinarily did so, and profited much in health 
from the exercise thereby derived; but I always walked 
leisurely. We started off, and I soon noticed that my 
new-made friend was walking very fast. Still, the air 
was bracing (it was in October), I felt good, and 
thought this brisk walk would be beneficial. Presently 
I became short of breath, walking up a steep hill; still 
I kept on; when I reached home (about a mile and a 
half from the station) I pointed out my friend’s desti- 
nation to him, and went home and passed the after- 
noon in bed; for, when I entered the house I was so 
weak, my heart was beating so, that I could hardly 
stand. I learned a lesson from this experience, and as 
long as I retain my reason, no power can ever again 
induce me to walk fast, for any distance. You know 
the old saying, that “ a man once died in a hurry I 
will alter it, to say “ that hurry has killed many men!' 
So, then, walk, but walk leisurely, walk in the pure 
country air, and have pleasant company. Have some 
one with you who is congenial, who can talk as you 
walk, and discuss the many interesting and instructive 
themes suggested by the surrounding nature. Such 
walks will fill every interstice of your body with pure, 
vivifying air, and will give the necessary exercise to 
render this air potent to prolong life. 
The importance of judicious walking as an exercise 
cannot be over-estimated. It would be well to arrange 
(as every one can do, if he will) to walk nearly the same 
distance everyday. Nearly every man works at a certain 
distance from his home. By walking to and from his 
place of work, he can secure this exercise; while women 
ought to make it a religious duty to go out every day 248 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
for a walk. Women (in this country) are the ones 
who suffer most from this neglect of walking. They 
are truly hot-house plants. When the sun shines 
brightly, they put on their best clothes and walk on the 
principal city thoroughfare for a few squares, to show 
off their good clothing and to buy a spool of cotton, as 
an excuse; but if you were to suggest a three-mile walk 
in the country, they would consider it as much of an 
impossibility as the completion of the Brooklyn Bridge. 
Is it any wonder that they suffer from backache ? 
When a rainy spell sets in, they won’t go out at all, be- 
cause it is so damp ; is it not rather a matter of wonder 
that they live at all. To any one who has traveled, the 
contrast is striking, between the ruddy-complexioned, 
(rough-skinned, it is true, but healthy) strong, hearty, 
vigorous, big feet women of England, who walk, and 
our sickly, pale, artificial, cramped feet and waists 
young women of America, who do not walk. Do, for 
heaven’s sake, young girls, as you value your life and 
health, as you hope to bring forth strong children, come 
out of your holes, emerge from your green-house lives, 
live the natural and vigorous life of the aborigines and 
of your British sisterhood. Walk, for heaven’s sake 
walk, exercise; go for two or three miles into the 
country, and your backache will vanish ; your sallow 
complexion will become rosy, your appetite good ; your 
sleep and dreams delicious and refreshing; your 
strength marvelous, to what it has been ; your general 
appearance and physique comely, graceful and beauti- 
ful, one upon which young men will love to gaze. No 
matter if it is raining, put on your waterproof and over- 
shoes and walk. I have known a few such young RIDING. 
249 
ladies; who were too noble-minded and too sensible to 
be afraid of such a little trifle as rain; they realized 
that they were made neither of salt nor sugar, and 
would not be melted by water, but were composed of 
better and more solid material. If you knew these 
ladies as well as I do, you would be induced to follow 
their examples. They are not weak and sickly ; they 
do not complain of backaches and headaches. They 
are strong and vigorous. Their days are active and 
their nights refreshing. So then walk, but walk with 
judgment. The two guides (infallible ones) are, stop 
when tired, and never walk fast enough to put you out 
of breath. 
Riding.—It is a question which ought to take pre- 
cedence, walking or horseback riding, they are both 
such excellent forms of exercise. In riding, the same 
jarring, the same motion of all parts of the body, is 
secured. It is a most admirable form of exercise. 
The muscles of the legs are brought into play in grasp- 
ing the horse’s sides; the muscles of the arms in 
directing his movements; the muscles of the trunk in 
sitting erect; while the jarring from the motion of 
the horse is communicated to all the organs and exer- 
cises them. Could a more thorough exercise be in- 
vented ? Scarcely, unless we except walking. There- 
fore, we must place the two side by side, and recom- 
mend the use of both to those who can afford it. 
You will remember that the Italian, Cornaro, was 
much given to riding, and it is truly an edifying and 
instructive sight in our city, to see the honorable and 
venerable Eli K. Price, who has sufficiently demon- 
strated, by his long and venerable life, that he under- 250 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
stood the true principles and realized the necessity 
and value of exercise, daily mounted on his handsome 
horse, with his long white hair flowing in the wind ; his 
form still erect (though he counts more than eighty- 
four years of an unusually active and useful life), riding 
down our main thorouhgfare. He realizes, in riding, 
the truth of what I have said about walking; he is 
never seen riding fast; the horse goes slowly along and 
so does his master. But the horse accomplishes the 
purpose and covers the distance that his owner desires. 
Often, when I have been sitting, writing, glancing up 
from my work, this venerable and well-known figure 
meets my eye, as he jogs slowly by on his horse; and 
it has more than once started me to moralizing. There, 
I think, goes a man who has throughout life known how 
to live, and has lived in accordance with this knowledge. 
Exceeding, by many years, the average duration of 
human life, he has done so, because he wanted to; be- 
cause he early studied how to live and so lived. Yet 
he has enjoyed the rational pleasures of this life as 
thoroughly as anyone; he has been and is a prominent 
man in social and political circles. He has attained a 
great age in health and happiness, and promises to live 
many more years. His patriarchal figure ought to set an 
example to all young men. They ought, when looking 
at him, to think, there goes a man ; they ought to see 
in him embodied the greatest possibilities of which 
poor human nature is capable; they ought to recognize 
a grand old man, who has become so by living a cor- 
rect life. His great age, white hairs, and erect form 
are not the result of accident or chance, but are the 
logical sequences of a wise life. ROWING. 
251 
Therefore, I would advise all who can afford it to re- 
sort to horseback riding as an exercise, using here the 
same precautions that have been indicated for walking. 
Rowing.—Rowing can be made one of the most bene- 
ficial and most pleasant of exercises, or it can be ren- 
dered very injurious. I would advise young men to 
avoid boat clubs. When they join such organizations, 
they constantly hear of races; their ambition is stirred, 
they desire to become members of the racing crew from 
their particular club, and since practice is necessary to 
make them sufficiently expert, they work and work. 
Finally the picked crew is chosen, the day of the race 
comes around, every one is anxious, and none more so 
than the members of the various crews. The race be- 
gins. Soon one of the men becomes exhausted, but he 
cannot stop, his pride (foolish sentiment) will not allow 
him to do so. He tugs away at the oar when he 
ought to be in bed; when the race is concluded, he 
leaves the boat a very sick man ; he has overstrained 
himself and his heart has given way to the strain. In 
this way, when indulged in to excess, does rowing be- 
come injurious. If, now, a man will go out in a boat, 
and alone, or with a companion, paddle leisurely about, 
not making up his mind to reach any particular goal, 
but resting on his oars whenever he feels at all tired, 
he will do himself a positive good. Thus, then, the 
same general rule here holds good; excess is injurious, 
moderation is beneficial. Excess is to be determined 
in the same way as in the case of walking. 
Driving.—There is comparatively little true exer- 
cise in driving, since the body is quiescent. Never- 
theless, this is a form of amusement to be commended, 252 
HOW WE *OUGHT TO LIVE. 
because it necessitates and insures a full supply of pure 
air. If driving yourself, a certain amount of exercise 
of the arms and hands and upper portion of the body 
is secured in handling the horse. While if some one 
else is driving, there is derived a certain amount of 
shaking up, of motion of the body, which will prove 
beneficial. Therefore, while not constituting true ex- 
ercise, in the sense that the foregoing do, driving, 
nevertheless, is very beneficial and ought to be indulged 
in by all who can afford it. 
Railroad Traveling.—This is a form of exercise 
never yet commented upon or recognized as such, and 
still it is a good and wholesome exercise. While, of 
course, it cannot hold rank with walking or riding, yet 
it is a very good stimulant to the human body. The 
rattle and jar of the railroad train rattles and jars 
the body. It is a passive exercise, it is true; that is to 
say, the muscles are not moved voluntarily, but they 
are moved all the same. Every one who has traveled 
for a day in steam cars has experienced a sense of 
great fatigue when leaving the car; he feels tired, 
nearly as much so as though he had walked all day. 
Were he to sit quietly in a chair or lie in bed for the 
same period, he might feel weak, from want of exercise, 
but he would not feel tired; therefore is it that he feels 
and is exhausted, because the constant shaking and 
motion which the body has received from the vibrating 
and oscillating cars has exercised it. To believe this, 
it will only be necessary for you to notice, the next 
time you travel, how strong and hearty all the officials 
of a railway train seem to be. 
Sea Bathing.—Here we have a magnificent and yet a SEA BATHING. 
253 
seductively dangerous form of exercise. None can be 
better, none can be made worse. If any thoughtful 
person will reflect for a moment, they will realize 
what a tremendous effort, how much use, exercise 
and motion, how much force, must be consumed in 
withstanding the terrific onforce of the mighty waves. 
Stand for one moment before an incoming breaker, and 
relax all your muscles, make yourself as inanimate as 
possible, offer no resistance to its mighty power. It 
will toss you around and play with you as it would 
with a match or a shaving. Thus, then, you can to a 
certain extent realize how much strength, how much 
exercise of the various muscles, would be required 
merely to stand up against these powerful breakers. 
But when you attempt to meet them at their own 
game, to dive into, float over and in various ways 
disport with them, the expenditure of force becomes 
enormous. It is a magnificent exercise, but there is 
scarcely any other form that so taxes the animal 
strength. Remember, also, that in addition to this ex- 
haustion of strength, the cold water (colder always 
than the body) is continually removing some of the vital 
heat; the reproduction of which from within is an addi- 
tional strain on the vital force. Therefore, it can be 
enunciated as a general rule, that while ten or fifteen 
minutes’ wrestling with “ Old Neptune” at the sea- 
shore will constitute good healthy exercise, a longer 
period in the ocean will produce exhaustion, and will 
be injurious. 
Having now discussed the principal forms of exer- 
cise ordinarily indulged in, it will be well to con- 
sider and demonstrate to you the truest and best 254 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
methods of physical exercise, such as can be enjoyed 
by all, whether rich or poor. 
Remembering that exercise means nothing more 
than motion, you will be able to understand the utility 
of the methods I am now about to enunciate. They 
consist simply in gentle, easy movements of all parts 
of the body. When retiring at night, and upon rising 
in the morning, when clothed only in undershirt and 
drawers, so that your movements may be free and not 
hampered as they would be if you were fully dressed, 
will be the time to indulge in these exercises. Now, 
then, when you are all ready, go through the following 
performances some twenty, thirty to fifty times each: 
i. Extend the two arms laterally from the body, and 
elevate them until the hands come together above the 
head; then bring them back to their original position 
and repeat. 2. Extend the arms laterally from the 
body, and elevate them one-half as high as in No. 1. 
Then flex the forearm on the arm, making a fist of 
your hand as you do so ; then extend the forearm, 
opening the fist as you do so. 3. Bringing your hands 
together behind, in the region of your loins, throw your 
shoulders back and your chest out, and so remain for 
a minute or so. 4. Letting the arms hang in their nor- 
mal position, rotate them, i. e., so twist them that at 
one time the palm and again the back of the hand will 
be in front. 5. With the arms in the same position, al- 
ternately elevate and depress your shoulders. 6. Stand- 
ing erect, rotate the head from side to side. 7. Bow 
the head several times. 8. Standing erect, with the 
arms elevated above the head, bend forward until your 
GENERAL EXERCISE. GENERAL EXERCISE. 
255 
hands touch the floor, and rise again to your former 
position. 9. Standing erect, stoop down on your 
haunches, until you are nearly sitting on the floor, and 
rise and repeat. 10. Rotate the trunk from side to 
side, and bend it laterally. 11. Lie on the bed; elevate 
first one leg, then the other. 12. Move one leg later- 
ally away from its fellow, then the other. 13. Rise to 
the sitting posture, recline and rise again, and so on. 
This is not intended by any means to be a full table 
of movements. They are so very varied and so num- 
erous that it would be tiresome to enumerate them all. 
These few principal ones will convey the principle, and 
my intelligent readers will soon be able to regulate a 
course for themselves. The idea is to gently twist, 
and turn, and move every portion of the body, from 
top to toe. Your common sense will teach you how to 
do this. If you please, you might hold in your hands a 
pair of light wooden dumb bells, or you might use very 
light Indian clubs. Heavy clubs and iron dumb bells 
are dangerous, because they will cause more or less 
strain. If you go through all the various movements 
that your ingenuity will suggest, some twenty to fifty 
times, you will find, when you are finished, that you 
are tired enough, without the necessity of still greater 
exhaustion from overcoming the resistance of a dead, 
inert mass of iron. There will be enough exercise in 
overcoming the natural resistance offered by the grav- 
ity of your limbs, and no artificial weight will be 
needed. 
This is true exercise; there is no strain about these 
movements, and if persevered in throughout life, morn- 
ing and evening, devoting about half an hour to it on 256 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
each occasion, it will insure good physical development, 
muscular activity, and healthy life; while it will not 
interfere with intellectual training, neither will it ren- 
der possible the danger of diseased internal organs 
from strain, providing, of course, you follow these 
movements with judgment, and do not carry them to 
excess, using here the same guides as in walking. 
This book is intended mainly for the average indi- 
vidual, who is neither very rich nor very poor; there- 
fore the advice it contains is such as can be followed by 
all. Were I writing for the very rich, there are other 
forms of what might be called passive exercise, that 
would be most admirable. 
To one who could afford to follow the luxurious ex- 
ample of the ancient Romans, I would say, when you 
have finished your evening’s movements, remove all 
your clothing and lie down. Have a well trained ser- 
vant to anoint your body with the purest oil, rubbing, 
kneading and bending every muscle and joint in your 
body. After twenty to thirty minutes of such manipula- 
tion, take a tepid bath, and returning to the bed, let the 
servant, with a moderately coarse towel, rub the whole 
body until it glows and you experience a comfortable 
sensation of warmth throughout. Then, getting under 
the covers and composing yourself for the night, your 
delicious and refreshing sleep, with your delightful 
dreams (if you dream at all), will make the fairy tales 
of the Arabian Nights sink into insignificance. 
franklin’s air bath. 
A most excellent thing, that ought to be indulged in 
by every one. When you rise in the morning, remove 
your night shirt and sit naked, for an hour, reading or MENTAL EXERCISE. 
257 
writing. The body of the average individual is very 
rarely exposed in its entirety to the action of the at- 
mosphere, but it ought to be. Good air is a great 
purifier, it is a magnificent disinfectant. When you 
remove your night shirt in the morning, smell it. Un- 
less you are even more than a marvel of cleanliness, or 
your sense of smell very defective, this garment will be 
very offensive; it becomes so because, during the 
night, the surface of your body has been constantly 
giving off dead tissue, some of which has accumulated 
on the shirt, while some of it still adheres to the body. 
Now, this air bath will purify and renovate the surface 
of the body. The movement of the atmosphere will 
carry off these decayed particles, and much pure air 
will be absorbed into the body through the skin. 
When you are ready to dress, you will put your cloth- 
ing on a clean and invigorated body. Many of my 
aged friends, whose kindly information has so much 
assisted me in preparing this volume, have for years 
been in the daily habit of resorting to this air bath, and 
they extoll highly its virtues, attributing to it, in a great 
degree, their long lives. 
So, then, to sum up our advice on physical exercise, 
we can do so in a few words. Motion of any kind, not 
carried to excess, constitutes good, healthy exercise; 
carried to excess, to exhaustion, it becomes injurious. 
Of all forms, walking, riding, night and morning move- 
ments, with Franklin’s air bath, form a combination 
standing at the head of the list, and cannot be excelled. 
MENTAL EXERCISE. 
The baby is weak, its muscles are incapable of lifting 
any appreciable weight. As it grows older these mus- 258 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
cles, as the result of exercise, grow stronger, until 
finally the man of forty who has wisely exercised can 
lift almost marvelous weights, and is capable of aston- 
ishing feats of strength. To demonstrate that this in- 
crease of power is due directly to exercise, and would 
not be without it, I will give you an illustration. If 
you were to take a little boy of ten, and so bandage one 
of his arms that movement would be impossible, yet 
growth would not be interfered with, as if you were 
with muslin to bandage the arm to the side, when he 
became a man he would have no more power or 
strength in his arm than he had as a boy. Again, 
when any limb is paralyzed its motion is suspended. 
The will cannot cause it to move. Its nutrition goes 
on all the same, but on account of the absence of mo- 
tion or exercise it wastes or withers away. So that 
exercise is necessary for the full development of any 
part. 
This is equally true of the mental being. If you 
were to place an infant in some isolated situation, 
where, while it had plenty of food, it was denied all 
means of cultivating the mind, it would ever remain 
an intellectual child. I remember, when I was a resi- 
dent physician, in our Almshouse, we had a woman 
of over fifty, who had been brought to the institution 
when only four years of age. During this period she 
was only once outside of the walls of the institution, 
and then only for half a mile. She was, in all her ways, 
like a girl of nine or ten. Her world was narrowed 
down to the inmates of the house. Her mind had been 
denied the opportunities for cultivation, it had never 
been exercised, and was very immature. She would MENTAL EXERCISE. 
259 
play with dolls, and her chosen companions were the 
children in the house. It was really a sad sight to see this 
gray-haired woman taking part in childish play with as 
much pleasure as those young enough to be her grand- 
children. Yet there was no insanity or idiocy here; the 
mind was all present, but from want of exercise it had 
remained as it was in early life. 
The mind must be kept in motion, just as the body, 
else it will not develop. Just as the muscular system 
can be developed in any particular part, by especially 
exercising such part, so can the mind. As the exter- 
nal muscular system can be developed so as to produce 
great brute strength, so any function of the mental 
organization can be cultivated to great exactness by 
constant use or exercise. Tea-tasters cultivate the 
sense of taste by repeated use of it, so that their ser- 
vices are in great demand in commercial circles. So 
with many other branches of business. These special 
senses are really referable to the intellectual side of 
man, since sense is really intangible and immaterial, and 
therefore belongs to the mental attributes. 
By constant effort in that direction, memory can be 
so cultivated that astounding development of this> 
faculty will result. 
The sense of smell, sight, hearing, all, indeed, are 
capable of development by exercise. 
But here, as in the case of the physical being, the 
desideratum, the most perfect type of manhood, is to 
be developed from a judicious and divided develop- 
ment of all the mental faculties. 
To accomplish this, every function of the mind must 
be kept in motion, as every muscle of the body is. A 260 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
man must cultivate his powers of observation; he must 
not walk through life like an automaton, looking 
neither to the right nor the left. He must notice all 
that goes on around him, and should reason and think 
about all the occurrences of life. His mental occupa- 
tions should be varied, for monotony will ruin the mind. 
The life of a man who devotes himself to literary pur- 
suits should be varied. He ought to read and write, 
to think, converse, and listen to others. Thus will he 
exercise all portions of his mind, and will be capable 
of performing a greater and more varied amount of 
work. The most perfect type of man results from a 
judicious exercise of both the mental and physical 
bodies. 
Therefore, to attain this high standard, it will be 
necessary to practice the advice already given about 
physical exercise, and to combine the mental with it. 
Business men care very little about mental develop- 
ment, beyond that requisite for the successful prosecu- 
tion of their business; but they ought to, for I can 
assure them that they would enjoy their wealth much 
more than they do, were they only to exercise and 
educate the mind. If instead of accumulating a library 
of handsomely bound volumes, merely for show, that 
they never use, they would read their books and reflect 
over their contents, their ideas would become enlarged, 
developed and refined. They would realize that there 
existed a world outside of their counting-rooms; they 
would become intimate with the great minds and sub- 
lime thoughts of other days, while they would regard 
the pleasures and duties of life from a less sordid 
standpoint. 261 
MENTAL EXERCISE. 
This reading and subsequent thought would consti- 
tute mental exercise. The more a man read, the more 
he would like to read, the more he thought, the more 
capable would he be of thinking. Thus, then, un- 
consciously to himself, would his mental being expand, 
he would gradually become more truly a man, one 
to whom life would offer greater real pleasure, while he 
would be more capable of being of service to his fellow- 
men while he lived, and would leave a greater void 
when he died. Therefore, in conclusion, to sum up; 
exercise is of two kinds, mental and physical. It con- 
sists in motion, and this motion is acquired by use. 
Lazy men are short-lived, as a rule, while activity or 
exercise tends to prolong existence. Exercise of both 
portions of mankind is necessary, in order that a man 
become thoroughly developed and may live a long life, 
and this exercise is to be acquired by gently but con- 
stantly using every portion of the body. 262 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
CHAPTER X. 
BATHING. 
A few words on this subject will prove beneficial, 
since but few persons realize its importance. 
The majority of human beings who can do so will 
occasionally take a bath, simply because the idea of 
being dirty is repulsive to them, and they feel, instinc- 
tively, that they ought to be clean. They do not know 
how important a factor bathing is in the maintenance 
of health and promotion of longevity. Its importance 
cannot be over-estimated. 
There are scattered over the body millions of little 
sweat glands, as many as one hundred and eighty 
thousand in a single square inch of surface. They 
are all scavengers ; their duty is to remove from the 
body the dead organic tissue I have told you about. 
They are constantly performing this work. The body 
is continually perspiring, though it may not feel moist to 
the touch. This we call insensible perspiration, because 
as rapidly as it exudes on the surface of the body it is 
absorbed and carried off by the surrounding atmos- 
phere. 
When you walk fast or perform any excessive exer- 
tion, even in cold weather, you perspire more freely, 
and this previously insensible becomes apparent trans- 
udation ; because by this exertion you have consumed 
or changed an extra amount of tissue, and these glands 
must perform more work to assist in its removal. Per- EFFECTS OF BATHING. 
263 
spiration performs another purpose. If you dip your 
finger into water and then blow on it, it will feel cool. 
This is because the breath, which is air, causes evapo- 
ration of the water, which tends to lessen the tempera- 
ture of the part so treated and to make it cool. Per- 
spiration does the same. This water on the surface of 
the body is evaporated by the atmosphere, and by this 
means any excess of heat generated in the system is 
carried off, and a uniform temperature is maintained. 
This perspiration is composed of two elements, 
water and solids, the latter of which are the broken 
down organic elements, ready to undergo decomposi- 
tion. The water is absorbed into the atmosphere, 
while the solids deposit on the surface of the body. 
After a while they accumulate and decompose, when 
you will smell bad. They will also mechanically block 
up the orifices of these glands, and prevent the free 
passage of subsequent perspiration, with its load of 
dead tissue, when this must either remain to poison the 
system, or will impose an undue amount of labor on the 
other excretory organs or scavengers, to remove it. In 
this way those delicate and important organs, the kid- 
neys, may be overworked and become diseased. Dr. 
Wilson,* commenting on the necessity of cleanliness, 
says: “ The flattened cells or scales of the scarf-skin 
are being constantly cast off, but are retained on the 
surface by contact with the clothing, and mingling, as 
they do, with the oily products of the sebaceous glands, 
they become glutinized, as it were, into a thin crust, 
which covers the whole of the body. This, if not 
periodically removed, attracts the floating dirt or dust 
* Healthy Life and Healthy Homes. 264 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
which is ever present in the atmosphere, and the con- 
sequence is that the balance of healthy life is disturbed 
by obstruction of the pores of the skin, a larger share 
of work is thrown on other eliminating organs, the 
blood is liable to be imperfectly purified, and disorders, 
more especially of the skin itself, are apt to be in- 
duced.” 
I am sure that very few people ever stop to think of 
this. They wash, as they wear fashionably made cloth- 
ing, because others do it. They have been taught 
from early infancy to do so, and as they grow 
up they keep on in this acquired habit. When 
their hands look dirty, they will occasionally wash them 
during the day, and in the morning will wash their 
faces to remove the sleep dirt from their eyes and to 
freshen them up a little after the night’s sleep. 
I am positive that the large majority of persons bathe 
less frequently than they ought to. Many think that 
once a week is amply sufficient, and in consequence 
the Saturday night cleaning up for Sunday has become 
almost a national institution. This is very wrong. 
Since plumbing has now become so comparatively 
cheap that all the comforts of bath and closet are 
usually to be found in the most moderate houses, want 
of the necessary facilities can be no longer a valid 
excuse for want of thorough cleanliness. 
I would enunciate as a rule that a full bath ought to be 
indulged in daily. Dr. Wilson says, “ The best and 
most convenient time for taking the bath is just after 
getting out of bed in the morning.” 
Here I must take issue with this noted sanitarian. 
It is, no doubt, the most convenient time, since it is only BEST TIME FOR BATHING. 
265 
necessary to remove the night garment and plunge 
into the bath, after which the ordinary dressing only is 
necessary, and this bath will tend to waken and refresh 
the body. But it is not the healthiest or best time, for 
the following reasons :— 
For a person in health, the warm bath is undoubt- 
edly better than a cold one. I do not mean hot, but 
warm, that is to say, the temperature of the body, 
about 98° Fah. 
Suppose you take such a bath in the morning. The 
warm water will tend to open the pores of your skin, 
and when you subsequently go out (particularly in win- 
ter) you will be liable to take cold. This warmth will 
invite the blood from the internal organs to the surface 
of the body, which will thus become full of blood. 
When the cold air of winter suddenly strikes the 
surface, it will contract the pores, as well as the blood 
vessels in the surface, and will suddenly and rapidly 
drive this blood back into the vital organs, congesting 
them and predisposing to disease. Particularly will 
this effect be disastrous if any organ happens to be 
weak or already diseased. So that while it would be 
better for all to avoid morning baths, they will be posi- 
tively injurious to any one with a weak or diseased 
internal organ. 
On the other hand, suppose your bath-room is next 
to your bed-room. While undressing, you can run a 
warm bath; when ready for bed, jump in, and after 
soaking for five or ten minutes, stand up, soap your 
body all over, and lying down flat again, rinse the whole 
body, washing off the soap, and with it the day’s accu- 
mulation of dirt and dead organic tissue. 
o 266 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
You will emerge from the bath thoroughly purified, 
the warm water will have had a soothing effect, that 
will predispose to and very much aid sleep, good, 
healthy, sound sleep. Then rub every inch of your 
body thoroughly dry, and taking a coarse towel, or a 
flesh brush (if your skin is not too tender), rub 
briskly all over, until the surface of your body fairly 
glows and tingles, then putting on your night dress, 
jump into bed. You will sleep splendidly. During 
the night the pores will slowly and gradually contract, 
the increased amount of blood in the surface will, by 
degrees, become diminished, the temporarily deranged 
circulation will slowly revive its equanimity, and when 
morning comes all will be well. There will then be no 
risk of taking cold or of having an undue determina- 
tion of blood to and a congestion of any organ. But 
the clean and freshened body will rise from a healthy 
sleep, ready to undergo a full day’s work. If, now, 
you will resort to “ Franklin’s Air Bath ” in the morn- 
ing, in connection with this warm bath the night before, 
you can take my word for it, your body will be immacu- 
late. You will not require extracts, or colognes, or bay 
rum, to make you smell good, the purity of natural 
cleanliness will emanate from every portion of your 
body, and you will give forth an odor of freshness that 
no perfumer can imitate. 
Dr. Wilson says, “persons who are very liable to 
catch cold, and who are unable to indulge in the cold 
bath, will often find that bathing the head, neck, face 
and chest with cold water will act as a very efficient 
means of protection.” Those who will bathe as I 
recommend, and go immediately to bed, need have no OFFICE OF THE SKIN. 
267 
fear of catching cold, no matter how sensitive they 
may be. 
His recommendation, “that bald-headed people, who 
have a constant dread of catching colds, should try 
soaking the head every morning from a sponge dipped 
in cold water, or from a small basin, as a preventive,” 
is very good, and ought to be practiced, since it comes 
under the category of the hardening process already 
referred to; and he goes on to say, “Indeed, there can 
be very little doubt that colds would be far less preva- 
lent than they are, if cold water was used much more 
freely in the wash-hand-basin when the cold bath itself 
is dispensed with.” 
This can be readily understood. What is generally 
known as a cold’ the bunged up (to be slangy), un- 
comfortable, stuffy feelings, that, falling short of real 
disease, yet make one feel intensely uncomfortable and 
unfit for any labor, mental or physical, are really due to 
the checking of this insensible perspiration about which 
I have told you. One of the principal forms in which 
the dead tissue is given off from the body is in the 
shape of carbon. If all this material given out in 
twenty-four hours were collected and solidified into one 
mass, it would weigh in the neighborhood of eight 
ounces ; just think of it; half a pound. Between one- 
third and one-half of this quantity is exhaled from the 
skin. Now, suppose the skin is interfered with in its 
action. The vital processes go on all the same. This 
same quantity of carbon is generated, and must either 
get out or poison the system. If the skin cannot re- 
move it, it must seek some other outlet, and in doing 
so, impose extra work on whatever organ it may call 268 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
on, and these organs being unable to remove it all, 
some will remain behind to produce the languor and 
lassitude so familiar to those who have frequently had 
colds. From what I will say (in the chapter on sleep) 
about the influence of carbon on the system, you can 
understand why this would be so. 
Now, then, you understand that heat will expand, 
while cold will contract anything. The pores of the 
skin are no exception to this rule. 
If, then, a person is accustomed to using warm water 
on all occasions, for washing, or to pass the majority of 
their lives in unnaturally and unnecessarily warm 
rooms, their pores will become unnaturally dilated. 
The skin will be performing a great deal of work, more 
than is really necessary for the typically healthy life of 
the body. In proportion to the extra work done by 
the skin, will be the lesser work done by the internal 
organs, since the obliging skin will relieve them from a 
portion of their duty; and this extra cutaneous action 
will not be really injurious to health or longevity, 
because the skin is not truly a vital organ; it may 
become much diseased, and yet if the internal vital 
organs are healthy, life can be prolonged. 
Therefore, if this excessive work on the part of the 
skin, and the unnatural dilatation of its pores could be 
constantly maintained, it might even prove beneficial, 
since it would greatly aid and assist the internal organs. 
But such is impossible. Every one who is not bed- 
ridden must occasionally go out. They must at times 
subject their bodies to the action of cold. 
When they do, this sudden exposure will produce 
excessive conti'action of the pores, just as any stimulant WARM BATHING. 
269 
applied to any overly sensitive surface will produce 
excessive stimulation, and this sudden interference with 
the normal action of the skin will unexpectedly throw 
an excessive amount of work on the internal organs, 
which they will resent. This means catching cold. 
Ordinarily, clothing will protect the major portion of 
the body from these sudden influences, but there are 
certain parts that will be uncovered, and on them the 
cold will act. If these parts are kept constantly in 
good condition, in a state of tonicity, as they will be by 
the use of moderately cold water, they will never be- 
come so thoroughly relaxed as to admit of the sudden 
action of cold injuring the body by contracting them. 
Just as any sudden demand will disturb the pre- 
concerted plans of any business man; if, for instance, he 
has made his plans to pay five hundred dollars a week, 
and is unexpectedly called on to pay a thousand, so will 
any unexpected and unusual demand for performance 
of duty on any of the internal vital organs derange 
them. If the skin is always doing its share, the other 
organs will do theirs ; but if the skin is abruptly inter- 
fered with, and sends some of its load of debt, unex- 
pectedly, to be paid by the vital organs, they will not 
be prepared for it, and the strain they will undergo in 
performing this duty will result disastrously to them. 
In order that the skin may be kept in this healthy 
and equable condition, it is only necessary to observe 
the two rules already enunciated, viz.: warm bathing 
at night, just before going to bed, and cold water for 
washing the exposed portions of the body. 
When you think what a large surface is represented 
by the skin, and when you remember how many 270 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
little organs it contains, and how they are constantly 
at work, removing the dead tissue, you will be prepared 
to understand how important it is to care for the skin. 
You can imagine how good action on the part of this 
organ (for it is an organ, since it has a function) can 
afford much relief to the internal organs, and can 
enable them to very much prolong their period of 
activity and usefulness. 
Thus, then, you can understand why so many per- 
sons take cold, when you realize how few ever think 
about the skin. Even those careful persons, who 
realize the importance of and endeavor to care for the 
organs inside of them, for the liver, kidneys, stomach 
and bowels, hardly ever give a thought to the skin. 
The old saying that “ Familiarity breeds contempt,” 
seems to be well illustrated here. A man cannot see 
and become intimately acquainted with his internal 
organs, therefore, if told how to do so, he will respect 
them. But he can see his skin at every minute of the 
day, and so, becoming familiar with it, he does not con- 
sider its care of any importance. He imagines that if 
he cares for his internal organs his skin will take care 
of itself, and he gives it little thought. If he does ever 
think of it, he considers it merely as a covering to his 
body, and something similar to the covering of a bale 
of dry goods. He never looks upon it as an organ, 
and an important one (as I hope he will now do), and 
an organ playing an important part in the phenomena 
of life, and one upon whose integrity so much depends 
his physical welfare. A very important point in con- 
nection with washing is, to thoroughly dry the part that 
has been washed. When a person washes the hands AN IDEAL BATH. 
271 
and hastily mops them with a towel, leaving them damp 
and moist, they are very apt, more particularly in cold 
weather, to become chapped. 
But now, there are some persons living in the coun- 
try to whom baths are denied, because they have them 
not in the house. To those who own their own houses, 
and can afford it, I would say, have the bath introduced 
at once; you must look upon it as important to your 
welfare as you do heat. 
But, if you cannot possibly have it, I will suggest the 
following substitute : Every night have brought to a 
warm room a tub of water, strip yourself, and with a 
large sponge and soap, wash yourself from head to 
foot; then rub and go to bed as recommended. While 
nothing can thoroughly and efficiently take the place 
of the full bath, yet this general washing will prove 
the best substitute. 
If the bath is taken daily, it will require but a few 
minutes to cleanse the body, so that the weakening 
influence of a prolonged bath will be avoided. 
In this connection, a few words on “ Shampooing ” 
will be appropriate. It is not at all necessary that a 
man should go to the barber’s to have his head cleaned; 
he can do it, and do it better, himself. 
If he will procure good castile soap, and about three 
times a week thoroughly soap his head, when in the 
bath, and after making a good lather on the surface, 
vigorously rub it well into the scalp and then wash it 
out again, his head will be ever pure and clean. 
In conclusion, let me describe an ideal bath. With 
a tub full of water, at a temperature of about 98° Fah., 
soak for a few minutes, then standing up, thoroughly 272 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
soap the whole body, putting the soap on thick. Then 
turn on a warm shower bath, and while the water falls 
from a height on the head and trickles down the body, 
wash the head thoroughly. This will carry the soap 
and the dirt with it all away from the surface, and 
enable you to go to bed with a thoroughly pure and 
clean body. 
SEA BATHING. 
For those of my readers who happen to live near the 
sea coast, a few words on this subject will possess a 
peculiar interest. 
The ordinary ocean bath, as indulged in at most of 
our fashionable watering places, is not near as clean- 
sing as a bath in ordinary fresh water, with plenty of 
soap, in a bath tub; but it serves other purposes. It 
is, of course, to a certain extent, purifying; but its 
principal benefit is to be derived from the following 
factors:— 
ist. It is, unless indulged in to excess, a most com- 
mendable form of exercise. 2d. It promotes cheerful- 
ness and good spirits. One of the most invigorating 
and cheerful sights possible to conceive, is that presen- 
ted on the beach at Cape May, New Jersey, every day 
about noon, during July and August. For, probably, 
more than a mile, for more than an hour, there is a 
constant panorama. Men and women in every con- 
ceivable variety of bathing costume are tripping down 
from the bath houses to pay a visit to old Father 
Neptune. 
On a “good day” the waves roll in, break on the 
beach, and toss the water and foam far up on the sands. 
Some timid bather standing, as he imagines, just SEA BATHING. 
273 
beyond reach of the incoming water, is suddenly 
surprised by an unusually strong wave, which buries him 
ankle deep. With a shriek and an Oh! my! that 
would be considered altogether un- Wilde like in the 
prim environs of a city, he jumps back and scampers 
away, pursued by these tantalizing minions of old 
Neptune. His pretended fright causes a general 
laugh, in which he himself joins. After a while he 
ventures further out, and becoming braver, absolutely 
has the impudence to attempt to dispute the right of 
way with these powerful water waves of time, when 
he finds himself unceremoniously picked up as a chip, 
and submerged as a fish, from which predicament he 
once more emerges, with his eyes, his nose, and his 
mouth full of salt water, blowing and puffing like a 
porpoise, looking like a drowned rat, and brimfull of 
good humor. 
At his ludicrous appearance, new merriment and 
laughter is created, and so on, for an hour, goes this 
scene of unparalleled enjoyment. If I were asked to 
mention a time and place in which the greatest num- 
ber of happy persons can be found, I would say, go 
to Cape May and visit the beach during the bathing 
hour. 
But there is such a thing as “ too much of a good 
thing.” Ocean bathing can be, and is frequently, carried 
to an injurious excess. It is really a form of exercise, 
and the same results of excess will be produced here 
as I have already indicated in the chapter on exercise. 
Very few persons, when carried away by the excite- 
ment of ocean bathing, stop to realize how much force 
they are expending. When a bather sees a huge 274 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
breaker approaching, he will very often turn his back 
to it, and bracing himself firmly for the expected on- 
slaught, will let it break over him. Some, more wise- 
ly, will throw themselves on top of it and allow it to 
do what it will. 
To realize how much exertion, how much force 
is expended in endeavoring to resist the resistless 
power of these incoming waves, allow yourself to re- 
main passive, make no effort to stand up against them, 
and see how far they will carry you toward shore. 
This exertion will prove positively injurious to any 
one who may have weak or diseased organs. Even 
during the warmest days of summer ocean water is 
cold. Every one experiences more or less of a shock 
when he first enters it. He feels chilly until his whole 
surface is thoroughly submerged, and any portion of 
the body that may be subsequently exposed will be 
chilly and cold. 
As a rule, which you can understand plainly and ap- 
preciate the reasons for, from what I have already said, 
the surface of the body must be kept warm. If it be- 
comes unduly chilled, the blood vessels in the surface 
must contract, and forcing the blood out of them, it 
must go somewhere, and flowing unexpectedly into the 
internal organs, will produce congestion of them. If, 
now, these organs are in perfect condition, they will be 
thoroughly, capable of returning this blood to the 
surface and so relieving themselves. 
Whether this return takes place or not, you can 
determine by the fact of whether you re-act or not. If, 
after the first chill experienced upon entering the 
ocean, you become comfortably warm, then you can WHO SHOULD BATHE IN THE OCEAN. 
275 
make up your mind that the temporarily congested in- 
ternal organs have relieved themselves; that the blood 
driven away has returned to the surface, and that ocean 
bathing will not be injurious to you ; but, on the other 
hand, suppose you have been induced to bathe by the 
example of your companions. Suppose, when you 
dash in, you feel cold, and this chilliness continues. If, 
after a short time of real discomfort, you emerge from 
the ocean, and shiver and shake up to the bath-house, 
so exhausted that you can hardly dress, you can rest 
assured that sea-bathing is injurious to you, that you 
do not properly re-act from the shock, and that you 
had better abandon it. 
You will then derive much more benefit from using- 
the warm salt-water baths to be found at nearly all 
watering-places. 
Therefore, I would enunciate as a general rule for 
the guidance of those contemplating ocean-bathing, 
the following: If you are in robust health, and perfectly 
sure that all your organs are healthy and sound, then 
you may indulge daily in a bath of fifteen minutes’ du- 
ration, not only without fear of any injury, but with 
absolute benefit to your health and longevity. 
But if you know that you have any weakness, if you 
have reason to suspect that you are not thoroughly 
sound in every particular, then will it behoove you to 
be very careful. 
Not only may the cold water act, as I have explained, 
by producing a congestion of this particular weak 
organ, but the very physical force of the waves may 
produce mechanical injury of some weak spot. To 
illustrate, and thus make you comprehend how such 276 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
accidents may and do occur, I will make the following 
quotation from a letter written by Olive Logan to the 
Philadelphia Times, and dated London, October 26, 
1881. She says:— 
“The death of Lord Justice Thesiger was the result 
of a singular cause. When the deceased legal light 
was a baby two years old he had scarlet fever, which 
was followed by inflammation of the left ear. He was 
deaf in the affected ear, more or less, all his life, and 
three or four years ago he consulted a celebrated 
physician about this trouble. It was found that the 
membrana tympani or (drum of the ear) was perfo- 
rated, and artificial protection was advised. A few 
weeks ago the deceased gentleman was bathing in a 
rather rough sea, when he was knocked on the left ear 
by a heavy wave. Intense pain soon followed, coupled 
with stiffness of the neck, which indicated that inflam- 
mation had extended along the internal passages. The 
best medical and surgical talent was summoned, but 
nothing could save him. It should be mentioned that 
at the time the wave struck the Lord Justice his ear 
was not protected, and I record this case in the hope of 
warning readers against the danger of going into the 
sea without protecting the ears with small wads of cot- 
ton. At the French watering-places the attendants are 
always provided with cotton batting, which they offer 
to bathers. On exceptionally cold days, too, it is well 
to protect the ears from the bitter winds with cotton.” 
While such a case as this one is, fortunately, very 
rare, yet it is liable to happen to any one. I will ex- 
plain to you some little about the mechanism of hear- 
ing, and you will understand this. INJURIOUS EFFECTS OF SEA BATHING. 
277 
When a man beats on a drum, he sets the parch- 
ment top in motion. This motion is communicated to 
the air inside of the drum ; from this it is conveyed to 
the covering on the other end; this in turn sets the 
outside air in motion; this sound, by causing successive 
waves or motion of the outside air, is conveyed through 
them to the ear. These vibrations pass in the ear, 
tintil they meet its drum or membrana tympani, which 
is a thin membrane stretched across the channel of the 
ear, at a certain distance within the external orifice. 
This, which corresponds to the parchment top of an 
ordinary drum, is set in motion, and conveys these 
sounds to nerves, which, arising from its inner surface, 
terminate in the brain, to which organ all sounds are 
carried and by which they are really heard. 
Now, suppose any sudden force, as of a heavy wave, 
is thrown against this delicate drum. It may rupture 
it, and allow the irritating salt water to flow into the 
delicate parts beyond. 
In the case of the Lord Justice, recorded, a perfora- 
tion of this membrane already existed, which was 
probably very small, but still large enough to allow a 
wave striking him forcibly, full in the ear, to push some 
of its water through and cause death. 
This jumping around and excessive motion while 
bathing in the ocean will be injurious to any woman 
who has disease of the womb. This organ is suspended 
in the cavity of the abdomen by very delicate liga- 
ments or cords, strong enough to hold it in position 
under ordinary circumstances; but if the womb happens 
to be displaced, this violent motion may further in- 
crease the displacement. 278 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
Women ought to avoid sea bathing when their 
monthly sickness is on them. At this time all the genital 
organs, that is, all the parts that are called into action 
during this period, are in a state of congestion; they 
contain an excessive amount of blood. The sudden 
chilling of the surface may determine an extra flow in 
this direction, thus producing a dangerous congestion, 
that will, most probably, result in disease. 
You may think I am laying too much stress on what 
will seem to you as very unimportant items. But let 
me tell you that it is just these very small matters, 
apparently, these seemingly insignificant details, the 
attention to or neglect of which will do so much to 
shorten or prolong life. 
When a person becomes seriously out of health, he 
or she is compelled to consult a physician. But she 
cannot always have a doctor at her side, to say, you 
can do this and you cannot do that; this would be im- 
possible. Neither does she possess the knowledge to 
enable her to realize what seeming trifles will, if oft 
repeated, ultimately so derange the delicate human 
machinery that no medical skill can repair it; when, as 
a result of youthful indiscretion, the mature woman 
may be doomed to a lifetime of invalidism and 
suffering. 
I know of no other temptation that so attracts the 
young American girl, living along the Atlantic coast, 
as sea bathing. Its fascinations, I must admit, are 
great, and to the young well-nigh irresistible. I have 
myself had experience, and have known the time when 
I thought one hour too short for a bath. I am sure, 
now, that I was then foolish, and that, far from being BE MODERATE. 
279 
benefited, I have been really injured by this over- 
indulgence. 
It will be impossible to cause the young man or 
woman to believe what I say, if I appeal to their reason. 
They will call me, as they do all those who advise them 
against their impulses, “ old fogy” and will laugh my 
admonitions to the winds. This is always the way 
with headstrong youth. Did you ever see a boy of 
twenty who did not (in his own estimation) know more 
of the world than his antiquated old grandfather of 
eighty. Yet, usually, when this well-meaning but im- 
pulsive boy grows into a mature man of forty, he com- 
mences to understand how little he knows, and realizes 
what a fool he was at twenty, until, when he becomes 
sixty or seventy, he begins to realize that he is com- 
mencing- to learn. 
Therefore it becomes the duty of those having charge 
over the young to see that they do not remain too long 
in the ocean. 
I can truthfully say that it will be impossible to find 
a healthier residence, in summer time, than the sea- 
shore, for those to whom such a climate is not inter- 
dicted by some particular disease; but this same desire 
to be fair forces me to say that very many young per- 
sons counteract the benefit to be derived by this two or 
three months’ sojourn, by excessive bathing. I have 
been in the habit of annually visiting the seashore, for 
so many years that my first visit goes way back 
beyond the limits of memory; hence, I have had ample 
opportunity to know what I am talking about. 
I have seen apparently hearty men enter the ocean, 
as buoyant and happy as any one could be. Disporting 280 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
for a time with the waves, they will suddenly throw up 
their hands, and sink like a piece of lead, before assist- 
ance can reach them. Every one on the beach is stricken 
with awe. The word passes from mouth to mouth, and 
is carried up to the town, to be retailed at every dinner 
table, that “ a man was drowned this morning.” In 
truth, he was not drowned. Very few persons are ever 
truly drowned by accident. This man has had, proba- 
bly, a weak or diseased heart, but one that would have 
lasted him, under ordinary circumstances, for many 
years ; he goes into the ocean, and overstraining this 
weak organ, it gives out; he dies, from heart disease, 
and his dead body sinking under the water, it is given 
out that he was drowned. Or, some -of the vessels in 
his brain may be weakened by disease (such as I will 
describe in the chapter on alcohol), and while strong 
enough to withstand any ordinary pressure, may yet be 
too weak to rebut any unusual demand on their resist- 
ance. When he enters the ocean, and subjects himself 
to the violent exercise of combating these powerful 
waves, his whole body becomes overstrained; his 
heart beats more powerfully and more forcibly; it forces 
the blood with unusual power against this weakened 
vessel; it ruptures, causing apoplexy and unconscious- 
ness ; the senseless body sinks beneath the water. The 
automatic respiration that always takes place in an in- 
sensible person draws into the lungs water instead of 
air; the man dies, and it is currently rumored that he 
was drowned, when, in reality, he died from apoplexy; 
or to go back to the first cause in both these illustra- 
tive cases, he has died from too much bathing. Even 
without any violent exertion, a man predisposed to EXCEPTIONAL ILLUSTRATIONS. 
281 
apoplexy may have an attack precipitated by ocean 
bathing. If, for instance, the vessels of his brain may 
be, as I have said, weakened, the very shock which the 
first entrance into the sea always gives to every one, 
the fact that the lower portion of the body is the first 
immersed, will all tend to increase the force of the 
heart’s action, and to determine the blood to the head; 
and when, to these forces acting from below, is super- 
added the influence of an August sun on the head, 
heating it, you can understand how a congestion and 
consequent rupture of this weakened vessel may occur. 
Do not endeavor to refute my statement by telling 
me that you know of some old lady or gentleman 
who has for years been in the habit of bathing in 
the ocean during the coldest days of November or 
December. I know of such cases myself; and they 
have not experienced any appreciable ill-effects. I 
answer your endeavored refutation by saying that we 
must argue from the rules and not the exceptions. 
I will tell you about old General Patterson (of our 
city), who, in spite of his disregard of almost all the 
rules of health, lived to be ninety years old. A short 
time before his death, one morning, in market, he was 
purchasing his provisions, as he had done for many 
years, and there stood looking at him two men, one of 
whom, Dr. Joseph Leidy (Professor of Anatomy in the 
University of Pennsylvania), said to the other, look at 
General Patterson, is he not a wonderful man ? See 
how active he seems, and to be out in market this early 
in the morning, at his great age! The answer came 
back, he is not a man, he is an anomaly. 
And he was. Though he observed some of the rules 282 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
of long life, yet he led such an apparently indifferent 
career, that, had he not possessed more than an iron 
constitution, he would have died many years sooner 
than he did. 
His life was an exceptional one. When we desire 
to deduce rules, we must do so from the majority, and 
not from the exceptions. 
Therefore, it will not do for you to reason that be- 
cause you yourself, maybe, and many of your friends, 
have indulged in sea-bathing to an excessive degree, 
therefore it is harmless. 
You must ever remember that the majority of young 
persons, those between the ages of eighteen and 
thirty-five, can do most anything and not experience 
any bad results from it at the time being. They may 
abuse themselves in the most outrageous manner, and 
yet not feel its effects for some time. 
Very few men grow rich in a few months or years; 
it requires time for them to accumulate wealth. In 
some exceptional instances great wealth is acquired in 
a short time, but the majority of substantial fortunes 
are accumulated by a very slow process. 
So it is with disease. Some diseases are developed 
very rapidly. Like the recent banking company in 
France, they may grow rapidly and assume large pro- 
portions, with a subsequent rapid collapse; their 
growth has been a diseased one, and can only be pro- 
ductive of injurious results very rapidly. 
Again, some diseases are more substantial; they 
take longer to develop, are slower in their growth, 
become stronger in their very slowness of growth, and 
when ultimately developed into a diseased condition BATHE BEFORE'MEALS. 
283 
are more difficult to eradicate. It would be as hard to 
bankrupt a man worth fifty millions of real estate as it 
would be to cure a disease that had been gradually 
accumulating in intensity for as long a time as the 
real estate magnate had been gathering together his 
property. 
Thus, then, can you understand how any chronic 
disease of any organ may take hold of a man so that it 
becomes almost or really a part of himself. 
Therefore, while excess in bathing, as in anything 
else, may not seem to produce any disordered condi- 
tion of the young and buoyant system, it will be dan- 
gerous, because it will surely make an impression that, 
by prolonged and frequent repetition, will ultimately 
cause some serious disorder of a nature incompatible 
with long life. 
Remember what I have said about the excesses of 
youth being drafts upon old age, and you will realize 
the force of this statement. 
One should never go into the ocean after a hearty 
meal. The common belief that it is almost sure death 
to bathe very soon after eating is erroneous; it is one 
of those popular fallacies, based on superstition, and 
having no true foundation in either science or experi- 
ence. But, while not necessarily fatal, it is yet a very 
injurious practice, and ought not to be indulged in. As 
I have explained already, when the stomach is digest- 
ing a meal it requires plenty of blood, but not too much, 
and it demands repose. If the cold water strikes the 
surface, driving the blood in excessive quantities into 
the internal organs, it will produce a congestion of the 
stomach as' well as the other vital organs. The violent 284 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
exercise will jar, jostle and derange the stomach, so 
that perfect digestion will be out of the question. The 
food not digested will undergo putrefactive decomposi 
tion, and thus becoming a foreign and poisonous sub- 
stance, will probably cause vomiting or diarrhoea, in its 
endeavor to get out of the body, while it will at the 
same time be very prone to plant the seeds of chronic 
congestion of the stomach and consequent dyspepsia. 
Buff Baths.—What are commonly known at Amer- 
ican seashore resorts as buff baths are to be strongly 
condemned. The practice of getting out of bed, and 
with all the pores of the body wide open from a night 
passed in repose in a warm bed, and, stripped naked, 
exposing the weak and exhausted body, weak because 
it has received no nourishment for many hours, to the 
chilling early morning wind blowing along the beach, 
and plunging into the water not yet warmed by the influ- 
ence of the sun’s rays, can only result in physical injury. 
The exertion put forth will then be doubly injurious, 
because the body is weak, while the danger of produc- 
ing internal congestion of a serious nature will be 
increased, because of the unusual coldness of air and 
water. 
I have known some young bloods, after the morning 
bath, to resort to a fashionable restaurant, and sitting 
down in company for several hours, to freely indulge in 
champagne or ardent spirits in the form of mixed drinks, 
eating the while. Pretty soon they become somewhat 
intoxicated, and imagining that a dip in the ocean will 
sober them up and refresh them, off they go to the bath 
houses, and again putting on their still damp suits, 
go again into the sea. TIME FOR BATHING. 
285 
They might as well go to see a case of smallpox ; 
for, while the injurious effects in many cases will not be 
as immediate, they will be much more certain. The 
liquor, in addition to the warm weather, has deter- 
mined the blood to the skin, and the free perspiration 
gives ample evidence that the pores are wide open. 
The irritating liquor has also irritated the internal or- 
gans and predisposed them to congestion. When, now, 
the cold water suddenly comes in contact with these 
greatly distended pores, they must, of course, contract; 
perspiration is checked, while the blood is driven in- 
ward to produce congestion. I have known such 
young men to emerge from the sea feeling much worse 
than when they entered it; with purple lips and skin, 
shivering and shaking, sick at the stomach, headache, 
backache, and such a general bad feeling as to plainly 
indicate that their remedy for intoxication has been 
much more injurious even than the disease. 
Again, some will organize parties for bathing at 
night, by moonlight. While this practice is no doubt 
very romantic, it is very unhealthy. The same chilli- 
ness of air and water are present that render the buff 
bath injurious, and in addition, the body is exhausted 
after its day’s labor. 
Business men who are compelled to go every day to 
the city, returning to the seashore late in the after- 
noon, are often in the habit of stopping for a dip on 
their way from the station to the cottage. Necessity 
makes this practice permissible, and if indulged in with 
judgment, it will not prove injurious. If you will 
remain in the water for only a few minutes, and then, 
after reaching your house, throw yourself on the lounge 286 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
for a few minutes before supper or dinner, as the case 
may be, you will derive positive benefit; but, if you 
struggle and wrestle with the waves for half or three- 
quarters of an hour, and then going to the nearest bar- 
room, fill yourself with whisky to remove your chilly 
sensation, as so many do, particularly those who go 
down from Saturday until Monday, then you had better 
have left the bath alone and gone straight home. 
Having now told you how not to bathe, it will be in 
order to point out how you can resort to this whole- 
some pastime so as to derive benefit from it. 
I will tell you this, by describing the life led at the 
seashore by an individual named Ideal. 
When the warm days of July come around, and all 
city business becomes paralyzed by the enervating in- 
fluence of the excessive heat, Mr. Ideal moves off to 
the seashore. If he is not engaged in active mercan- 
tile pursuits, he does not once visit the city until the 
middle of September, when he comes back invigorated 
for another winter’s labor. 
If he has a business to look after, he so organizes 
and arranges it that it will go on smoothly during this 
dull season, with weekly or semi-weekly visits from 
him. Of course, Mr. Ideal is a merchant in business 
for himself; clerks cannot do as he can, but, being his 
own master, he can so arrange his affairs as to take a 
long holiday; because he knows that if he does not do 
so, the constant worry and anxiety incident to his large 
business will prematurely consume his vital capital, as 
surely as it will increase his pecuniary wealth. He 
realizes that Gould, with his millions, can find time for 
his fishing expeditions along the coast of Jersey ; that AN IDEAL BATHER. 
287 
Drexel, with his enormous and growing- business inter- 
ests, can yet spare time for occasional prolonged ab- 
sences from his counting-room in search of renewed 
health and strength. 
Being a sensible man, Mr. Ideal reasons that if these 
men, whose business is so much greater than his own,1’ 
can go away for the summer, he can follow their 
wise example, organize his business and do the same. 
If Mr. Ideal is a literary man, he knows that he can do 
his writing just as well and even better when men- 
tally invigorated by the life-giving atmosphere of old 
ocean than if he remained in the hot and dusty city. 
So reasoning, he makes his arrangements, and bid- 
ding farewell to bricks and mortar for a time, he finds 
himself snugly ensconced in a little frame cottage down 
by the sea. 
He has gone for his health, and knowing how he 
ought to live, determines to so live. About six o’clock 
in the morning he gets up, and if the weather is fine, 
goes for a half-hour walk on the beach; then he has an 
appetite for breakfast; after which he sits around for a 
while, reading or writing. About half-past eleven or 
twelve o’clock he removes his clothing, and putting on 
his bathing suit, over which he throws a wrapper, and 
with slippers on his bare feet, walks down to the bath- 
house, to which he has sent before him a pair of flan- 
nel drawers made like pantaloons. Throwing off his 
wrapper and slippers, he stands about the beach 
talking with friends for ten or 'fifteen minutes, in order 
that he may get thoroughly cooled off, and have the 
temperature of his body reduced near to that of the 
surrounding atmosphere, so that when he enters the 288 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
cold water it will have a less injurious effect on the 
surface. 
Seeing his son, with some other young boys, running 
around and playing leap-frog, he calls him, and explains 
that by this exertion he is over-heating himself, and 
opening the pores of his skin, when he will be more 
likely to take cold on entering the water. 
When he feels well cooled off, but before he gets 
chilly, he walks briskly out into the sea, until he is in 
water knee deep, when he at once dives head first into 
the first breaker that comes in. Then, unless the 
undertow is unusually strong, he keeps on out until 
the water reaches up to his armpits. Here he floats, 
and swims, and dips under each breaker, taking 
care always to have his head wet and his body well 
under water. He never goes out on to the beach, as 
he sees many others doing, lying around in the sand, 
with the air evaporating the water from their clothing 
and chilling their bodies, and then going back into the 
sea. He knows that he would be very apt to take cold 
if he did. He realizes how easily this beneficial bath 
may be made a great injury to him. He has read that 
a prominent English physician has stated, in England’s 
greatest medical jourqgl, that he believes nearly every 
one has a temporary congestion of the kidneys immedi- 
ately after coming out of an ocean bath. He knows 
enough about medicine to understand that if he bathes 
properly this congestion will be but transient and will 
pass away, while if he is imprudent, frequent repeti- 
tion may convert this temporary condition into a 
permanent and veritable disease of the organs. 
He does not climb up on another’s shoulders, neither AN IDEAL BATHER. 
289 
does he allow any one to mount his and dive over his 
head, because he feels that he is receiving enough ex- 
ercise and expending a sufficiency of force, in simply 
standing up against the powerful breakers and being 
tossed about by them, without making any unnecessary 
effort. 
He knows that this method of bathing is very tame, 
and realizes that his young and thoughtless companions 
are laughing at and calling him “ old fogy," and an 
“ old stick." But he gives this ridicule no further 
thought than to feel confident of the old saying, “that 
every dog has his day," and to remember that the time 
will come when the laugh will be on the other side, 
when these young scoffers will have reached mature 
age, and reaping the fruits of their imprudence in 
chronic ill-health, will probably look back to the days 
when they jeered at the staid, antiquated method of 
bathing of Mr. Ideal, whom they now see, apparently, 
not one day older than he was twenty years before, 
and sighing, wish they had followed his example. 
When he has been in the water for fifteen minutes, 
resisting the pressure of his friends to remain longer, 
he goes out, and tarrying not, walks straight and fast 
to his bath house. Removing his wet suit, he first mops 
his body dry with soft towels, and then rubbing with 
coarse ones, or even with a flesh brush, makes his whole 
surface fairly burn and tingle. The dry flannel pants, 
wrapper and slippers are donned, and he walks home. 
A servant washes out the bathing-suit in fresh water, 
and bringing it up to the cottage, hangs it out to dry, 
in readiness for the next day. 
Sometimes Mr. Ideal enjoys a little toddy. If he 290 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
happens to be in the humor, he indulges it at this time, 
because he knows that a small amount of liquor just 
after a bath will not do him any harm, and will, most 
probably, be absolutely beneficial. He occasionally also 
enjoys a cigar. 
His servant, knowing this, will have a nice little table 
in one corner of the porch, with two easy chairs. 
When he sees Mr. Ideal and his intimate friend, Mr. 
Perfection, coming up from the beach, he quickly mixes 
up two mint juleps, or sherry cobblers, or porter san- 
garees, or whatever mild, mixed drink he knows by 
experience his master and his friend prefer, and 
placing them on the table, with a pure cigar by the side 
of each, and a plate of crackers and cheese between 
them, he arranges similar chairs, and mixes lemonades 
with a little sherry, or weak claret or milk punches, for 
the wives and adult members of the two families. 
Mr. Ideal does not stop in a bar-room on his way 
home, because he knows that if he does, he will be very 
apt to meet a crowd of thirsty and rollicking friends, 
who will make it well-nigh impossible for him to get 
away after one drink, when he will most likely indulge in 
three or four, in rapid succession, and made of liquor of 
a much inferior quality to that waiting for him, in conse- 
quence of which the sharpness of his appetite will be 
blunted, and he will be very apt to go home with a 
headache, since the body just after an ocean bath is 
unusually susceptible to the influence of liquor. 
Sitting down to this cheery table, with his family 
around him, Mr. Ideal sips at his drink, nibbles at the 
crackers and cheese, and slowly puffs at his cigar, talk- 
ing the while to his friend. This is the delicious “ Dolce AN IDEAL BATHER. 
291 
farniente,” the “Otium cum dignitate ” of the seashore. 
Very soon both gentlemen become drowsy, conver- 
sation becomes interrupted, and laying down their 
cigars, they throw back their heads and doze for half 
an hour. Waking up refreshed, Mr. Perfection goes 
home and Mr. Ideal gets dressed, so that by two o’clock 
he is ready for a good dinner. 
The afternoon he passes in reading, writing, driving 
or walking, and the evening in the same way. 
He never goes in bathing in rainy weather, because 
he knows that to derive benefit from it he ought to have 
the warm sun shining on himself and the water. 
He knows that some men will go out sailing or fish- 
ing in the morning, and hurrying home, rush down to 
the beach and bathe. But he will not do this, because 
he feels tired after his trip on the water, and knows 
that it will be injurious to him to bathe when he is ex- 
hausted. Besides, when he does anything, he wants to 
do it thoroughly. When he goes fishing, he wants to 
fish, and when he goes bathing, he wants to bathe, and 
he does not want to hurry from the one to the other. 
When September comes, Mr. Ideal returns to the 
city a thoroughly renovated man. He is strong, vig- 
orous, and has accumulated an ample stock of vital 
force to carry him through the winter. * So he goes on, 
working in the winter to make money, loafing in the 
summer to enjoy it. The years pass by and he re- 
mains the same. He seems to grow no older. He is 
ever active, cheerful and contented. He seems to pos- 
sess some mysterious secret of perpetual youth, and 
every one says, “ how well Mr. Ideal wears ; he does 
not look a day older than he did forty years ago.” 292 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
And they wonder at it. But if they were to seek Mr. 
Ideal himself, he would tell them that his excellent 
health and youthful appearance was due merely to the 
fact that he had not only studied “ how he ought to 
live,” but that when he found out, he was ever after 
careful to so regulate his every day life. 
The nearer my readers follow this example, the 
greater benefit will they derive from a sojourn at the 
seashore; the further they wander from it, the less 
good will they experience. 
Children ought never to be forced into the sea. 
You must remember that some children are possessed 
of that exceedingly nervous temperament that makes 
the grand old ocean, with its wonderful and ever roll- 
ing breakers, a source of real terror to them. 
I have frequently been so aggravated that I could 
hardly hold my tongue, when I have seen women drag- 
ging, with all the force of their superior strength, little 
children into the water, the little ones shaking, scream- 
ing and holding back, all of which the parents seemed 
to think was funny, and would laugh at. But I can 
assure you that such coercion is anything but funny 
to the little victim. I have known some children to be 
frightened into convulsions on the spot, while severe and 
oftentimes permanent derangements of the nervous 
system will be the result of this infantile fright. If 
your baby or little child is afraid of the ocean, put on its 
bathing suit and allow it to sit on the beach, playing 
with the sand; or maybe it will sit in one of the little 
pools of salt water left on the beach by the retiring tide, 
which has been made unusually warm by the sun. 
By degrees, by doing this day after day, and avoiding LIFE AT THE SEASHORE. 
293 
all efforts to induce the child to enter the ocean, so as 
not to make it think of that which it fears, in time 
familiarity will succeed dread, and the child will of its 
own accord enter the water. 
Salt water is a tonic; it gives tone to and invigorates 
the body. Therefore, it would be well for parents to 
have a bucket or two of sea water daily carried up 
from the ocean to mix with the warm fresh water in 
baby’s bath. The improvement in your child’s phy- 
sique will amply repay you for the trouble. 
LIFE AT THE SEASHORE. 
An outline of a healthy life at the seashore has been 
given in the sketch of Mr. Ideal, but it will be well to 
go a little more into this subject. 
From the very hour of birth until about the twelfth 
or thirteenth year, the seashore offers an unequaled 
health resort for all. When this age has been reached, 
both for moral and physical reasons, it will be better 
for your sons and daughters to pass the summers in 
the country, and avoid fashionable watering-places, 
until they have grown into mature and thoughtful men 
and women. When very young, they are under your 
control, and you can regulate their lives so that they 
will conduce to their physical and moral welfare; but 
when they reach that age of budding independence 
about which I have already written, surrounded by the 
numerous temptations of a fashionable resort, which no 
one has a right to expect a childish mind to be able to 
withstand, they will cause you many a heartache, and 
you will find it utterly impossible to keep them out of 
mischief, if they are so inclined. The very reprehen- 
sible practice of having children’s hops at the large ho- 294 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
tels, while gratifying to vanity, by affording the oppor- 
tunity for parents to display their children’s costly 
clothing, is sadly detrimental to the physical welfare of 
these poor little things. 
If, now, you refuse to allow your children to visit 
these hops, you are considered unkind and cruel, and 
unless your offspring are remarkably obedient and 
docile, they will be tempted to become deceitful and to 
surreptitiously enjoy the pleasures they desire and see 
others indulging in, and of which they consider that you 
are unjustly depriving them. These hops are used 
only as an illustration. Every one who has ever visited 
the seashore at a fashionable summer resort has noticed 
the degree of freedom, ease and familiarity that there 
obtains, amounting, frequently, to absolute indecency 
and immorality. At home, if your young daughter 
meets a gentleman and he asks permission to visit her, 
you will find out who he is before you give your con- 
sent. At the seashore she is introduced to some 
stranger, maybe a handsome, fascinating man ; a waltz 
is followed by a suggestion to promenade on the pi- 
azza, this leads, maybe, to a walk on the beach, and— 
God only knows what. He alone can foretell what a 
lifetime of misery may result from this terrible social 
freedom, so common and so tolerated at the seashore. 
Physical detriment results, also, from these wrong 
methods of living. If a young girl gets overheated in 
the ball-room, and goes out to walk on the piazza, ten 
to one she will take cold, that may eventuate in con- 
sumption. Do not tell me that persons never take cold 
in “salt air; ’’they do ; this is a dangerously fallacious 
idea, and the sooner you are rid of it the better. LIFE AT THE SEASHORE. 
295 
Young men have an idea they can drink more 
liquor at the seashore than at home. While it would 
seem to be a fact that it requires more alcohol to make 
a man drunk, yet these precocious youths must not 
flatter themselves that what they consume is doing less 
injury to their internal vital organs than it would at 
home; for it is not. While the invigorating and stimu- 
lating salt atmosphere prevents the stupefying effects 
of the alcohol from being manifested as soon, and 
therefore delays actual beastly drunkenness, yet the 
poison is doing its sure work on the inner organs all 
the same. Under this delusion, they make up their 
minds to drink all they can get, to have a regular spree, 
and it is because of this fact that I have issued this 
word of warning. 
It is very tempting, when father and mother are going 
home at ten or eleven o’clock, from a walk, or from 
looking on at a hop, to see young persons indulging in 
a chicken croquet, or salad, terrapin or champagne. 
So, the devil is very te7npting at times. This supper 
will taste very good and be very pleasant; but you had 
better be careful. If you are really hungry, and feel 
as though you required some nourishment, a few good, 
raw oysters and a glass of ale or beer will be much 
more wholesome than any rich, heavy food. As a rule, 
eating late at night is injurious, but when one is really 
in need of food, then something plain will be indicated, 
and will not do any harm; while rich food is injurious 
at all times, it will be particularly so when indulged in 
late at night. I have had friends, going down to the 
seashore for a day or two, who would take along only 
the low shoes they happened to be wearing. Getting 296 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
into the midst of an influx of mosquitoes, their lives 
became tormented by these little animals biting right 
through the stocking; be sure to always take with you 
a pair of high shoes. 
As I have said before, I do not desire to make my 
rules very strict, because I am anxious to have them 
observed. So that if you will carefully follow the 
easy ones I have elsewhere enunciated, and add to 
them my instructions about bathing, you can rest com- 
fortably sure that you are leading a very good life, and 
are not doing anything calculated to shorten your 
earthly existence. NECESSITY OF SLEEP. 
297 
CHAPTER XI. 
SLEEP. 
Sleep that knits up the raveled sleeve of care, 
The death of each day’s life, sore labor’s bath, 
Balm of hurt minds, nature’s second course, 
Chief nourisher in life’s feast. 
I imagine that very few of my readers know the 
origin of the familiar household saying, 
“To go early to bed, and early to rise, 
Will make a man healthy, wealthy and wise.” 
John Wesley was so impressed with the importance 
of going to bed and getting up early, that he made it a 
point of his religion, and the above was his motto; and 
Wesley was right. 
We have nothing to do here with the moral influ- 
ences of late hours, and will confine ourselves to the 
nature and necessities of sleep, and the advantages of 
going to bed early and of early rising, in order that we 
may enjoy good health and long life. 
A great philosopher has said, “Take from man 
sleep and hope, and he will be the most wretched being 
on earth.” This profound thinker knew what he was 
saying. Sleep is as necessary to life as is food. 
Every act of life, every word, thought, movement of 
every kind, each contraction of the heart, every per- 
formance of the liver, kidneys, and all other organs, 
entail, as a result of their performance, not only the 
destruction of tissue, about which I have told you, but 
also a certain amount of fatigue. The body becomes 
exhausted in every part, from the mere act of living. 298 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
The exhausted system must be recuperated; it must 
rest, while the vital organs are generating a new 
supply of force to enable these same functions to con- 
tinue. Those who live in large cities know that dur- 
ing the day the gas-works are busy making the illum- 
inating gas which, stored away in reservoirs, will at 
night serve to give life and brilliancy to the streets and 
houses. At night the supply is used up and exhaust- 
ed, and must be made over again the next day. After 
a while these works will wear out and become useless, 
when new ones must be built; they possess a certain 
capacity (though we cannot accurately measure it) ; 
each day they generate new gas, but a time will come 
when they can do so no more. The works of a watch 
give power to move and to live a mechanical life, to 
the watch, but they run down at night and must be 
wound up. 
So it is with the human body. Its various parts sup- 
ply the vital force necessary to life; and while they pos- 
sess from birth a certain capacity, as the gas-works do, 
yet their power to keep up this supply will become 
prematurely exhausted, unless they are allowed inter- 
vals in which to recuperate. The demand made on 
this force during active, waking life is greater than the 
supply. Therefore it becomes rapidly consumed, and 
when night comes the human gasometer is nearly 
empty; it has sunk down very low. The works have run 
down, and need winding up. The body becomes 
exhausted, and plainly indicates that it requires rest. 
Now, then, when the eyes are closed, and the external 
world shut out, see what takes place. When asleep, 
every function of the body is carried on less rapidly. SLEEP A RENOVATOR. 
299 
All the voluntary duties and performances of life are 
absolutely suspended. Thought, motion, sensation, 
are all in abeyance, they are, for the time being, dead, 
so that vital force is not required to keep them in 
activity. The internal organs are slowly and quietly 
performing their duty. Like the engine of a hotel ele- 
vator, that is reduced to a low degree of activity dur- 
ing the small hours of the night, so the energy or active 
life of these organs is brought down to a mininum, be- 
cause the demand is so slight. They are like unto a 
horse that, after a hard run, is allowed to walk along a 
shady country road, in order that he may gain strength 
for another run. They act slowly, generatinga certain 
amount of vital force, a small portion of which is con- 
sumed in giving them power to do their duty, while the 
remainder is gradually stored up and accumulating in 
the various parts of the body, that is being, as it were, 
wound up. 
After a while a sufficiency of this force is accumu- 
lated, the exhausted organs and parts are refreshed, and 
are ready to again resume their active life. The man 
awakes, with a fresh amount of vital force in every por- 
tion of his body, and is once more ready to start on his 
daily active duties. Thus you understand the import- 
ance and necessity of a full amount of sleep. When you 
become tired and exhausted, you can, by an exercise 
of your will-power, or by the use of artificial stimu- 
lants, drive your body to do more work; but you will 
do so at the expense of your health. It will be like 
forcing a jaded horse to more exertion by a liberal use 
of the whip and spur. He will go on, because you 
force him to do so; he must move, since a power 300 
IIOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
stronger than his own commands it; but he will suffer 
in health and strength for this unnatural labor. So 
it is with the human being. A man of strong will can 
labor even when very much exhausted, but the strong- 
est man will surely, sooner or later, suffer for this abuse 
of his organs. This is a fact that cannot be too strongly 
noted, since overwork and too little rest and sleep are 
the greatest enemies of health that we have in this 
country. When an energetic, go-ahead American has 
any labor that he desires to accomplish in a given time, 
it matters not to him how long he works; he is ready 
to turn night into day, and will not rest until he has 
finished his task. This hurry and want of rest is the 
greatest cause of the large number of premature physi- 
cal wrecks that we daily meet with. An imperative law 
of nature is, that the whole body must be absolutely 
rested (such rest as it can only receive from sleep), for 
a certain number of hours out of every twenty-four. 
As will be seen from the appended tables, the largest 
proportion of aged men now living in the United 
States have made it a rule to retire about ten o’clock 
and rise at six. From this, as well as from the uni- 
versal experience of the world in all ages, we are led 
to draw the conclusion that a healthy man requires, in 
order to maintain his health and strength, eight hours 
of sleep. 
It is not a matter of indifference, as many suppose 
and claim, when you take these eight hours. There is 
a proper time for everything, than which no other time 
can be so good, and this holds good in an especial 
manner in regard to sleep. 
Since sleep is indulged in for the purpose of reno- THE PROPER TIME TO SLEEP. 
301 
vating the exhausted energies of the body, it becomes 
plainly evident that the proper time for sleep is when 
the body is exhausted. And it will be equally appar- 
ent that work of all kind ought to be suspended when 
this fatigue comes on. 
It is almost universally conceded that early rising, 
when not carried to an extreme, is beneficial to health; 
therefore, this point needs no discussion. If, then, a 
man rises at six, takes his breakfast at seven, works 
until one or two, when he has dinner, and labors again 
until six or seven, when he takes supper, and then de- 
votes the evening to some amusement, light reading, 
conversation or the like, when ten o’clock comes he 
will feel tired. This, then, would be a signal that the 
body required rest, and that it was time to go to bed. 
If, now, this notice is unheeded, and the man continues 
or commences to force his organs to keep on working 
into the small hours of the night, he is treating them 
with injustice, and they will resent it. From midnight 
until daybreak the body is weaker than at any time 
during the twenty-four hours. If, then, work is done 
when the body is in this weak condition, such labor will 
prove a severe strain on the organs. It will not only 
exhaus? them unnaturally, but will, in addition, make 
demand upon the reserve force which they ought at 
this time to be accumulating and storing up for the life 
of the next day. 
Even with those who do not rise early, but lie in bed 
until eight or nine o’clock, this same weak period will 
come, and they will ultimately suffer, if they are not in 
bed and asleep during its continuance. 
One reason of this weakness is to be noted in the 302 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
fact that it comes on after a period of fasting, when the 
fuel derived from the last meal has become nearly 
used up, and when, were it daytime, you would con- 
sider it necessary to eat again. Therefore, .some might 
suppose that food taken into the stomach at this time 
would counteract the weakness. It would to a certain 
extent, though not entirely, but it would also at the same 
time produce a new trouble. It would impose extra 
work upon the stomach to digest it, whereby this organ 
would be robbed of its requisite rest. There is no use 
in talking about these laws of nature. They have been 
formulated by a wisdom far superior to finite intelli- 
gence, and must be obeyed strictly, if we desire long 
and healthy lives. The civil laws of a city, state or 
country must be regarded to the letter, else anarchy 
and demoralization will ensue ; so must the natural 
laws of health, else disorganization and disease of the 
body will inevitably result. Besides, food alone will 
not entirely counteract this natural weakness, since it 
is partially the result of the use or vital activity of the 
body throughout the day. The only true and thorough 
remedy or antidote is sleep. 
Going to bed at or near the hour mentioned would 
not be tasteful or even possible to the lovers of fash- 
ionable society, whose swell entertainments usually 
commence about that hour. But the majority of hy- 
gienic laws are diametrically opposed to the laws of 
our perverted social intercourse. As long as fashion- 
able society remains as it is to-day, human beings must 
decide between the two. They cannot possibly follow 
both strictly, and it is almost impossible to reach a 
happy medium. The majority of men and women must FASHIONABLE FOLLY. 
303 
put these two questions before them, and decide for 
themselves which to follow:— 
i st. Become ardent members of fashionable society ; 
go to balls and parties, eat late suppers, go to bed at 
two, three or four in the morning, and remain there 
half the next day ; be constantly complaining of head- 
ache, dyspepsia and backache, and die young, or 
2d. Eschevy fashionable society, living in accordance 
with the teachings of hygiene and experience, enjoy- 
ing all rational pleasures as every sensible man and 
woman does, and never have an ache or pain, feeling 
always well, cheerful and happy; never experiencing 
either the heartaches or the unnatural stimulation and 
abnormal depression of the devotees of fashion, and 
finally dying old men or women, whose memory will be 
loved and cherished, and whose never-to-be-forgotten 
examples will be held up for the guidance of future 
generations yet unborn, while the butterflies of fashion 
pass prematurely away, as little noticed and regretted 
and as soon forgotten as the leaves of the forest; save, 
maybe, their faults, vices and shortcomings may live 
after them, as warnings of the mode of life bound to 
insure early death. 
Oh ! ye wise and thrice blest residents of God’s 
country. Assemblies and balls and late suppers have 
no temptation for you. Your vigorous forms and 
ruddy cheeks give full evidence that you are strangers 
to the ruinous dissipations of fashionable city life. Your 
bed, sought early, contains rest and refreshing sleep 
for your healthily fatigued body. There is no tossing 
and turning and lying awake for an hour or so, from a 
stomach endeavoring to assort and digest a medley of 304 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
crabs, croquettes and chicken salad, swimming around 
in a large quantity of champagne. You do not awake 
in the morning (as your society brethren do) with your 
mouths coated and foul, your stomachs deranged, your 
heads ready to split, and your bodies more exhausted 
than when you retired. Yet you really enjoy life. 
The wife has no cause to distrust her husband, neither 
has the husband reason to be jealous of his wife. 
Your children look up to, love and respect you, 
because they know that you are living in accordance 
with the laws of God and the dictates of nature and 
good sense. Fashionable society and good sleep are 
incompatible. My young readers mayscoff at this and 
call me an old fogy. They have perhaps for a few 
years been great society members, and yet they sleep 
well and seem well. Very good ; so they are ; I do 
not deny it; but let them have patience and wait, and 
when they have passed from the youthful age of im- 
pulse and inexperience into the riper period of thought- 
ful life, they will look back and say, that old fool who 
told us “ How We Ought to Live” was nearer right 
than we thought he was. When the man of thirty-five 
or forty is continually complaining that his liver is out 
of order, suffers all the time from dyspepsia, never 
knows what it is to have a good night’s sleep, he will 
sit down to reflect, some time, when, from the ashes of 
the past will rise up, like accusing angels, a long list 
of champagne dinner parties, of pretty girls and balls, 
of assemblies and flirtations, of terrapin suppers at 
three o’clock in the morning. When lying awake at 
night, unable to sleep, though he has worked hard all 
day and retired early, these visions will again come be- CAUSES OF SLEEPLESSNESS. 
305 
fore him, and he will despairingly cry out, “ Why can- 
not I sleep as I used to; when I enjoyed all those 
good things, I used to sleep like a top.” Yes, but my 
friend, you were then abusing yourself; you were mak- 
ing unnatural demands on your inheritance of vital 
force. Your capital was then large, and could meet all 
demands made upon it; but, by extravagance, you 
have so squandered it, that now, but slight exactions 
will create a panic, for you must remember that a very 
wise man has said, “ That the excesses of youth are 
drafts upon mature age, payable twenty years after date.” 
If such a man reads this book, he will be very apt to 
say, “ Why did I not know these things in time. Oh ! 
curse those foolish pleasures that have robbed me of 
the pleasure of good sound sleepl' To such I would 
say : Cheer up ; be of good heart, my friend. I have 
already told you “ it is never too late too mend ;” if 
you will carefully follow the advice given in these pages, 
and persevere in it, good sleep will surely come to you, 
unless you happen, to be the victim of some severe 
disease, when your condition passes beyond the scope 
of this work, and the services of the physician become 
necessary. 
If you realize that your inability to sleep is due to an 
improper mode of living when young, then does it be- 
come very important for you to advise your children. 
Do not endeavor to force them, for the reasons already 
given, but, knowing yourself how disastrous the lives 
they may be leading are apt to prove in the future, use 
the means I have already indicated to alter their tastes 
and inclinations, and to make them realize the true 
nature and dangers of the course they are pursuing. 306 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
After many years of discussion, it has now been defi- 
nitely settled that during sleep the brain is in a state 
of ancemia. That is to say, there is less blood in it 
than during the waking state. As a result of this con- 
dition, all the functions of the brain are less actively 
carried on, its life is less intense, it is in a state of par- 
tial suspension, as it were. Therefore, receiving less 
nourishment (i. e. less blood), it acts less vigorously, 
and as a consequence, all the vital phenomena under 
its control are less active. This condition of anaemia 
of the brain, with lessened activity of all the functions 
of the body, constitutes true sleep. There is a condition 
called stupor or co7na, which, while it simulates, yet is not 
identical in any material particular with true sleep. When 
a man comes home intoxicated and falls across the bed 
in a condition of drunken unconsciousness, he does not 
sleep, though he seems to do so. Instead of having 
less blood than usual in the brain, he has more, but the 
blood is poisoned; it is full of carbon, which has such 
an evil influence on the brain that it interferes with 
all its duties and functions. If a man were to sit in a 
hermetically sealed room, in which charcoal was burn- 
ing, he would soon become unconscious ; he would not 
be asleep, but his senses and the functions of his brain 
would be suspended by the poisonous influence of 
the charcoal fumes. His condition would be precisely 
similar to that of the man in the drunken stupor. Al- 
cohol is rich in carbon (charcoal), and it acts on the 
brain just as the fumes of charcoal do. To prove that 
this condition is not that of sound sleep, I will recall to 
your mind two facts with which you are no doubt 
familiar. Let a healthy man, upon rising from a long EVIL EFFECTS OF ALCOHOL. 
307 
night’s refreshing sleep, drink a very large quantity of 
whisky; at first he will be stimulated, but in a short 
time, though he has done no work, he will fall into this 
condition of apparent sleep, and will so remain until the 
carbon has been removed from his body, while, if you 
feel his head when in this condition you will find it to be 
warm. 
Now, it would be impossible for the desire for healthy 
and natural sleep to come on so soon after several 
hours had been passed in this state, and it would be 
likewise impossible for the head to be warm unless 
there was a great deal of blood in it. 
Again, the headache, the bursting feeling that super- 
venes upon a debauch, is evidence that there has been 
too much blood in the head. 
The moral I desire to draw from this is, that exces- 
sive use of alcoholic drinks is inimical to true sleep. 
Since alcohol in large quantities will produce a con- 
gestion of the brain, that is to say, will determine an 
unnatural flow of blood into it, so in smaller and fre- 
quently repeated doses, will it produce the same condi- 
tion. Since, then, a lesser amount of blood is one of 
the absolutely necessary conditions of sleep, so a 
greater amount will interfere with it; and thus may the 
tippling habit become a powerful agent in the produc- 
tion of bad and wakeful nights. 
There are many men who, while not coming under 
the category of drunkards, yet go to bed every night 
more or less under the influence of alcohol. As they 
convivially express it, they are mellow. The next morn- 
ing they yawn and stretch, turn over and over again, 
hate to get out of bed, love the second nap, and when 308 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
finally they do reluctantly get up, feel tired and ex- 
hausted, and wonder at it. 
The day before has been passed moderately cor- 
rectly ; they retired early, and, as they supposed, slept 
soundly all night. Yet they are almost as tired as 
when they went to bed, and feel totally disinclined for 
a day’s work. 
But they have not truly slept, as they imagine. They 
have been in this condition of stupor. Their organs 
have not rested; their nervous systems have not been 
quiescent. The alcohol they imbibed the day before is 
a foreign element; it can serve no good or useful pur- 
pose in the body; the organs do not want it, and these 
faithful friends and sentinels, realizing that its presence 
will be injurious to the healthy life of the body, work all 
night long to remove it. Denying themselves the rest 
they have so well earned and so much require, they 
labor for the general good, and when morning comes 
and the man is sober, they are exhausted. Still they are 
forced by the exigencies of business to keep on working. 
Is it any wonder, that the sleep of him who goes to 
bed mellow is unrefreshing, and that his organs become 
prematurely exhausted, and he dies before his time ? 
When the brain is in a state of activity, when it is 
performing any duty, it is full of blood. This blood is 
contained in vessels or tubes that ramify throughout 
every portion of the organ. When the time for sleep 
comes these vessels contract (they contain contractile 
tissue in their walls or coats), and forcing the blood 
out of the brain, produce the conditions that I have 
described as essential to sleep. When this feeling 
comes on, when you are sleepy and desire to go to TIME FOR SLEEP. 
bed, and the regular time for retiring has arrived, 
suppose, by the force of your will, or by the use of 
some stimulant capable of keeping the brain full of 
blood, you interfere with the natural contraction of 
these vessels; see what occurs. 
If you take a piece of India-rubber, and alternately 
stretch and allow it to contract, its contractile power 
will remain intact for a long time. But suppose you 
keep it constantly on the stretch; after a time it will 
lose its power to contract. So with these blood ves- 
sels of the brain. If you refuse to allow them to con- 
tract when they want to, and keep them on the stretch 
abnormally long, after a while they will lose their ability 
to contract, and will remain permanently dilated. The 
circulation through them will become sluggish, as it 
would through a distended hose, if the engine or power 
forcing the water through it were just the same as that 
which had performed the duty when the hose was much 
smaller. 
So, then, you have explained in a few words the rea- 
son why sleeplessness is such a usual accompaniment 
of excessive brain work. 
I must again say that there is a time and place for 
everything. Nearly every person has at times expe- 
rienced that familiar feeling of drowsiness and desire 
for sleep that follows the ingestion of a very hearty 
dinner. This is because the stomach requires a large 
supply of blood to digest this large amount of food. 
It therefore makes demand upon the other portions of 
the body for a temporary loan, just as the merchant 
does upon his neighbors when he has a large note to 
meet and is short. The brain is very accommodating, 310 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
and allows the stomach to draw upon it for the amount 
of blood necessary. Hence the brain is comparatively 
bloodless, and a desire for sleep ensues. But, now, 
suppose this obliging friend makes a sudden and unex- 
pected demand upon his creditor; suppose he calls in 
his loan as soon as it has been made; the borrower 
must suffer, his note must go to protest. So, then, 
suppose you commence some mental work immediately 
after eating a hearty dinner ; the brain must of neces- 
sity call back from the stomach the blood it has loaned, 
because it cannot work without material, any more than 
the stomach can, and as a result the stomach lacks the 
necessary power to do its work, and dyspepsia is the 
consequence. 
Now, then, when the various organs in the body are 
exhausted from a long day’s work, and they require all 
the blood they can get to repair their waste and to 
generate new force for the ensuing day, they ask a loan 
from the brain. They say to it, “ you have done your 
full share of work; it is time for you to rest; you are 
the most important portion of man ; you are the organ 
that raises him above the level of the brute; it is neces- 
sary for you to take care of yourself, else you cannot 
take care of us, and we look to you for guidance and 
support. Lend us your material, and while you sleep 
we will work slowly and steadily, and when morning 
comes you will be refreshed, while we will have made 
much progress; we will carefully invest the capital 
received from you, and will return to you to-morrow 
what you have given to us, but increased many fold, so 
that you will be again enabled to direct all our move- 
ments for the general good of the individual. CONDITIONS ESSENTIAL TO SLEEP. 
311 
If, now, this request is refused, as it will be if the 
brain is required to retain a full supply of blood to 
meet the demands of over work, not only will the brain 
suffer from over-distention and loss of sleep, as I have 
described, but the other vital organs will also suffer 
from too little blood and the consequent interference 
with their appropriate duties. 
There is a time when the brain must be full of blood, 
in order that it may work, and there is a period when 
it must send this blood away, in order that it may rest 
and sleep. If these two demands are not heeded, 
sleep, true, good, healthy, refreshing sleep will be impos- 
sible. 
When a man is in health the brain is capable, if left 
to itself, of regulating these periods properly, but when 
meddlesome man comes in and interferes, he may 
derange the whole machinery. So that the feeling of 
fatigue and desire for sleep, coming on in the evening, 
ought never to be disregarded. It is the voice of the 
whole body, exhibited through the brain, speaking in 
unmistakeable terms, and demanding sleep. If this 
demand is disregarded, and the inclination fought 
against, the desire will pass away, and many wakeful, 
restless, tossing hours will be impotent to woo it back 
again. 
Some men, in very good health otherwise, still will 
experience great difficulty in getting to sleep. It will 
be well for them to look within themselves, to minutely 
examine their habits, and to ask themselves whether 
they are addicted to anything that will be calculated to 
keep an undue amount of blood in the brain. I have 
already pointed out how alcohol will do so, and also 312 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
the influence of excessive work. Anxiety or mental 
activity of any kind will do the same. As I have shown 
you how excessive exercise will prove injurious, so I 
will tell you that excessive mental activity will preclude 
sleep. 
You have heard of excessive and sudden pleasure 
or joy producing death. Every one has gone to 
bed at times, after an evening unusually full of plea- 
sure, and to save their lives have been unable to go to 
sleep. The mind is so active, thinking over the plea- 
sures that have been experienced, that the brain is kept 
full of blood, and sleep is a stranger. 
When this condition of sleeplessness, in an otherwise 
healthy man, persists for any time, it becomes suffici- 
ently serious to require some measures to overcome it. 
I will recommend some of the simple measures, such 
as can be safely employed, without the advice of the 
physician, and without fear of injury. First and fore- 
most must be advised exercise, such as I have recom- 
mended in the chapter devoted to it. 
There are very few cases of uncomplicated sleepless- 
ness that will not yield to well-directed and persistent 
exercise. 
If, with the exercise during the day and just before 
retiring, the warm bath is resorted to, and the body is 
subsequently kneaded and rubbed, as recommended in 
the chapter on exercise, sleep will almost surely ensue. 
If, however, these means fail to produce it, then you 
must resort to some measures capable of drawing the 
blood away from the brain, and producing the neces- 
sary condition of ancemia. What is known as counter- 
irritation must be tried COUNTER-IRRITATION. 
313 
This consists in using certain means that will have a 
tendency to draw the blood from one part to another. 
You all know how potent a mustard plaster is in re- 
lieving any congested part, how quickly it will often- 
times remove and relieve a threatened attack of 
pleurisy. How it will draw the inflammation that is 
causing the pain from the inside to the outside of the 
body, where it is comparatively harmless. From this 
we learn a lesson. As you now know, the blood vessels 
throughout the body are continuous, they all communi- 
cate one with another. Then, when you irritate any 
one part the blood is drawn toward such part, the ves- 
sels therein become dilated, and some other portion of 
the body must lose the blood that is so attracted. 
Here, then, is our indication. Mustard and heat are 
both counter-irritants ; they will both tend to draw the 
blood toward any part to which they may be applied. 
Therefore, if you will fill a small tub with very hot 
water and stir into it a goodly amount of mustard, you 
will have an excellent counter-irritant mixture. Now, 
sitting on the side of the bed, in your night-clothes, put 
your feet and legs into this water, which should be as 
hot as you can possibly stand it. Let them soak there 
until the water commences to get cool, then withdraw- 
ing them, have the feet and legs thoroughly well 
rubbed with a coarse towel. This will tend to draw 
into them an excessive amount of blood, which will be 
supplied from the brain, when this organ will become 
depleted and you can go to sleep. 
If this method does not prove entirely satisfactory, 
you can add to it a large mustard plaster applied over 
the nape of the neck. And, just here, a word about 314 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
how to make a mustard plaster. Do not, as most per- 
sons do, put flour into the mixture, so that it will not 
burn so much ; you want it to burn all it can. If you 
desire a plaster six inches square; take a piece of old 
rag six inches wide and twelve inches long. Use the 
strongest mustard you can get. Mix it up with warm 
water and smear it on one half of the rag, about one- 
eighth or one-quarter of an inch thick. Then turn 
over the clean half of the rag on top of the mustard, 
and fold in the edges. You will thus have a thickness 
of rag interposed between the mustard and the skin, 
so that the part will not be soiled. Then let the plaster 
remain on as long as you can possibly bear it. Do not 
remove it as soon as it commences to burn. You 
desire to make a profound impression, and unless you 
do so, you might as well have saved the material for 
salad dressing. If it blisters, so much the better, a 
blister will do you no harm ; a little lard applied to the 
raw surface, on a rag, will soon heal it, and the bene- 
ficial effects of the plaster will be much increased. 
If, after using the simple means recommended, you 
are obeying all the advice contained in this volume, 
and are leading a strictly correct life, in accordance 
with all the rules herein laid down, and yet cannot 
sleep, you can feel very sure that disease of some kind 
is the cause of the sleeplessness, and that you had 
better consult a physician. But be very sure that you 
are doing what you ought to. I have heard, more than 
once, men criticise others for not doing the very same 
things that they failed themselves to do, and it always 
reminded me of the immortal couplet— 
“ Oh ! wad some power the giftie gie us, 
To see oursels as ithers see us.” CONSERVATION OF POWERS. 
315 
Many men will think they are doing and living as 
they ought, when, if they asked some good, true, dis- 
interested friend, he could and would point out to them 
many errors. Therefore, before you conclude that 
your inability to sleep is the result of disease, be sure 
that it is not due to faulty living, and directly your own 
fault, and the remedy in your hands. Give a fair and 
prolonged trial to the remedies I have suggested. 
If ybu have been engaged in excessive mental occu- 
pation, whether of a business or literary character, and 
find that you are passing sleepless nights, give it up at 
once, before the vessels become permanently dilated; 
close your books, run away from your office, and for a 
time lead the life of a ruminant. Go where your 
thoughts will be diverted from their routine work; 
absolutely abandon your accustomed labor, and exer- 
cise freely. 
Too much stress cannot be laid on exercise and 
variety of occupation as a cure for sleeplessness. 
Monotony of existence will produce it in a 'healthy 
man, while the reverse will remove it. No man ought 
to lie awake at night, yet very many do. They do so 
because they do not live as they should. 
The thought wells up in my mind, as I write, and 
must have utterance, else it will overpower me. As I 
look out of my window, unto the ever-changing scene 
presented by the passage to and fro of almost count- 
less numbers of men and women, each one occupied 
about his own affairs and heedless of everything and 
everybody, save that which he desires to accomplish, I 
think, poor creatures, how little the majority of you 
realize what you are. How seldom you consider where 316 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
you came from and where you are going. How few 
of you young boys stop to consider, in your headlong 
pursuit of pleasure, how differently you will view your- 
selves, life and its purposes, in a few years. How 
little thought you rich men and busy merchants give 
to yourselves. How you regard your body as merely 
a something to serve your selfish purposes, to gratify 
your passions. How little you all realize the purpose 
for which God Almighty has allowed you to ‘exist. 
How seldom you consider that you are puppets in His 
hands. That He has placed you in the world as por- 
tions of his grand design of the universe. That He 
has given to you free will, and allowed you the power 
to abuse it, and that most of you do so abuse it. How 
little any one can tell how soon you will die. How im- 
possible it is to say that, as you walk along the street, 
in seeming health and strength, you may not the next 
minute fall a corpse. Oh! these reflections make me 
sad, when, realizing from them the uncertainty of human 
life, I yet see how careless, and thoughtless, and indif- 
ferent my fellow men are about conserving to its 
utmost limit this precious boon. 
Coming back from the digression, for which I must 
beg pardon, and plead feeling as an excuse, we will go 
on with our subject. The number of men who lead 
strictly correct lives are very few, and so also is the 
number of very old men very limited. 
Many make professions, but do not practically carry 
out the doctrines, of a healthy life. They do not 
practice what they preach. Some among this class 
really seem to think that they are living correctly their 
knowledge of hygiene and of the effects of certain NAPPING. 
317 
modes of life are so meagre that they honestly do not 
know they are doing* wrong, while others, better in- 
formed, can and do recognize their shortcomings. 
Therefore, again I would say, before a man makes 
up his mind that he does not sleep because he is sick, 
he ought to be very sure that it is not because he does 
not live correctly. 
To decide this question, he must carefully remember 
and consider all the advice contained in all the chap- 
ters of this work. If he can conscientiously say to 
himself that he has faithfully carried out all the doc- 
trines and precepts herein laid down, and still cannot 
sleep, then he had best consult a physician. 
A few words about naps will be necessary. They 
are very bad institutions, but, like everything else that 
is not absolutely vicious and sinful, they may at times 
be not only allowable, but really beneficial. 
If, for instance, on account of some business de- 
mand, a man loses a portion of his night’s rest, then 
will his body derive benefit from making up the defi- 
ciency in daytime. 
Or, if a merchant or a clerk, who has been busy all 
week, eating in restaurants and hurriedly stuffing him- 
self, on Sunday sits down with his family, and, feeling 
comfortable, eats an unusually hearty dinner; then, when 
the drowsiness (of which I have already told you, and the 
mechanism of which I explained) comes on, a short nap 
in an easy arm chair will promote digestion and will be 
beneficial to health. But if such a man were to regai- 
larly lie down on a lounge and sleep the whole after- 
noon, it would prove injurious, because his stomach 
would participate in the general sleep or rest of all his 
organs, and would not thoroughly digest the dinner. 318 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
A nap in the daytime cannot take the place of sleep 
at night. Some persons seem to think it a good idea 
to sit up working until way into the small hours of the 
morning, and to make up for this loss of rest by an 
afternoon nap. This is an erroneous idea, and can 
only be injurious to health. The Almighty has plainly 
indicated, in numerous ways, that He intends the day for 
work and the night for sleep, and has demonstrated by 
experience that any continuous infraction of these laws 
can only result disastrously. As I have already inti- 
mated, change of scene will prove a powerful promoter 
of sleep in any one in whom sleeplessness is not due to 
any definite disease. Therefore will it be well for the 
busy merchant when he finds himself lying awake at 
night, calculating and running over his day’s business, 
utterly unable to drive these thoughts from his mind 
and to sleep, to leave them utterly behind him, and go- 
ing off to some entirely new scenes and surroundings, 
occupy his time purely with pleasure. Let him go on 
a fishing trip, or a gunning expedition, or if he lives 
near the coast, take a sea voyage. It is a very dam- 
aging and erroneous view that most men entertain, 
that they cannot spare the time for these recreations. 
“ All work and no play,” you are aware, “ will make 
Jack a dull boy.” It will do precisely the same with 
Jack’s father. If the man works all the time, a period 
will come when it will be impossible for him to work 
any longer. Disease and death will come stalking in 
and force him to give up. Will it not be better, then, 
for him to parley with death, to postpone its coming as 
long as possible ? This he can do, if he will. 
If his desire is to accumulate an immense fortune in a CULTIVATE TRANQUILLITY. 
319 
very short time, no advice, I fear, will make him live as he 
ought; money is so attractive to him that he will work 
night and day until he accomplishes his purpose. But 
if he is a sensible man, and views wealth as he ought 
to, for what real pleasures it can bring him, and as a 
means of protecting his wife and children from want 
after his death, then may he be induced to believe in 
the truth of the following idea. If a man can make, by 
working moderately and exercising plentifully and en- 
joying life rationally, ten thousand dollars a year, and 
can keep this up for twenty years, he will make two 
hundred thousand dollars ; if, now, his living costs him 
five thousand dollars a year, and at the end of the 
twenty years he dies or becomes disabled for work, 
then will he have a snug little sum laid by for a rainy day 
and for his family. But, suppose he laughs at so small 
a sum, and aims to make fifty thousand dollars a year, 
and succeeding, becomes fashionable and extravagant, 
and spends forty thousand; he may die in five years, 
from overwork, when he will have accumulated only 
one-half as much as his less ambitious and more sensible 
neighbor. These two pictures are drawn from life, from 
my own experience, and their counterparts, I am sure, 
will immediately suggest themselves to my readers. 
Overwork and the worry accompanying the desire 
for inordinate wealth cause more disease and more 
premature deaths, directly and indirectly, than all the 
acute, contagious diseases put together. 
If a man has money constantly on his brain, he can- 
not have good sleep, any more than he can walk when 
he is sitting down. The mind must be tranquil and 
free from care, else he cannot sleep. 320 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
I am going to describe the life of a business friend 
in this city, which will serve as a model for those men 
who desire to have, and enjoy good, sound sleep. His 
mode of life is truly a wise one. He is a physician, and 
knowing how he ought to live, does live in accordance 
with this knowledge. 
Engaged in several different business pursuits, no 
one works harder during the day than he does, from 
Monday morning till Friday night. But, now, after 
these five days of hard work, he shakes the dust of the 
office from off his feet, and going to his home, some 
twelves miles out into the country, far away from his 
ordinary surroundings and pursuits, spends Saturday 
and Sunday among his magnificent collection of 
books, breathing into his body constantly the purest 
of country air, and really enjoying life. When, on 
Monday morning, he again returns to the city, he is 
re-invigorated, and is ready for five days more hard 
work. Occasionally, he packs up his satchel and goes 
off to the seashore for a few days. This man knows 
how to live and work. He thoroughly appreciates the 
means by which he can secure good sleep. His busi- 
ness is so well organized that it goes on all right dur- 
ing his absence. 
Now, were he to remain constantly in his office, 
and attending to business, he would, no doubt, make 
more money. But he is not a fool; he has sense 
enough to realize that there is something above and 
beyond wealth in this world, and he desires to secure 
it. He makes enough for all his reasonable wants and 
some to lay up besides, and is satisfied. He desires to 
live long and be healthy and enjoy life, and goes about REGULAR HOURS FOR SLEEP. 
321 
it in the right way. Such a man is a rarity, but so are 
all good examples. When found, a man who leads 
such a sensible life ought to be held up as an example 
to his fellow men. 
Any one who follows such an example can iest as- 
sured that, unless there be something radically wrong 
with his organization, he will sleep well, and to repeat, 
if he does not, the services of a good physician become 
necessary. 
So, then, to sum up, I have nothing here to do with 
men who are really sick. It would require a larger 
book than this to accurately describe all the diseased 
conditions that may preclude sleep. I am writing for a 
healthy man, in order that he may remain healthy. To 
such a one, therefore, eight hours of sleep out of every 
twenty-four are necessary to healthy life. This sleep 
must be secured by a reduction of the quantity of blood 
in the brain. This condition will be impossible, if mental 
activity of any kind is kept up inordinately long. So 
that a man ought to cease work of every kind for at 
least half an hour before bedtime, so that the mind may 
become tranquil. Then, if a man desires to enjoy 
good sleep and its accompanying benefits, he should 
make it a rule to retire at ten and rise at six. While 
it will be hard for many to adhere to these hours, yet 
they constitute the true rule, and the nearer you ad- 
here to them the better it will be, while the further you 
deviate the more injurious will it be. 
Regularity in hours for sleeping is as important as 
regularity in the performance of every other duty of 
life. It would be better, in the long run, for a man to 
go to bed regularly at twelve o’clock and get up at 322 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
eight, than it would for him to retire one night at ten, 
the next at twelve, the next at two, and on a subsequent 
night at eight, and so on. 
The essentials, then, for good sleep are:— 
i st. Regularity. 
2d. Exercise. 
3d. Good digestion. 
4th. An easy conscience. 
5th. Freedom from mental anxiety of any kind. 
6th. Absence of over mental work, and 
7th. To sum them all up— 
An easy and equable mental condition, which can- 
not exist unless all the other six conditions preexist. 
Thus, then, you can realize the necessity for sleep, 
and how to procure it. 
This book, as I have already said, is too small to 
exhaustively discuss all the points contained. It merely 
points out the main indications, the foundation upon 
which intelligent minds must rear the superstructure. 
These light-houses, directing you toward the port of 
sleep, have been erected, and if you conscientiously 
heed their warning and beckoning lights, you will surely 
sleep well, unless disease be the cause of the wakeful- 
ness. ORIGIN OF CLOTHING. 
323 
CHAPTER XII. 
DRESS. 
God never made tailors and dressmakers; that is to 
say, He did not make their trades. When He first 
created human beings He placed them in a sufficiently 
warm climate that they might exist the year around 
without any artificial covering to their bodies. He 
furnished them with a most accurately fitting natural 
covering in the skin, but so arranged matters that no 
other was necessary. 
We must believe that our first parents represented 
in every particular the most perfect type of human life, 
and that to them in their perfect state was given all 
that perfection required. 
Clothing was not then necessary to preserve mod- 
esty, because into these pristine pure minds no thought 
of immodesty could enter. Possessing ideal figures, 
they required not the aid of artisans to add shape and 
symmetry to their already shapely forms. 
With the entrance of sin, came the simultaneous 
introduction of all the artificialities of life that were 
unnecessary and unknown to perfection. 
We must consider that had this original perfection 
lasted throughout the world, we would have had for 
one condition of our existence eternal spring, that 
would have rendered unnecessary any artificial cov- 
ering for our bodies. Such would seem, at least, to 
have been one of the ideal conditions to which pure 324 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
humanity was originally destined, and which was lost 
by the sinful action of our first parents. When the 
monarch of purity became dethroned from the human 
mind, the demon of lust and licentiousness usurped his 
sceptre. It then became necessary, in order that the 
immoral tendencies of man might be held in check, to 
conceal from public view all that might tend to waken 
into life, foster and stimulate these vulgar inclinations. 
Here, then, arose one necessity for clothing. 
At the same time, this everlasting and perfect spring 
weather became altered into seasons of changeable 
weather, that made it necessary to resort to artificial 
means to protect the natural condition of the body. 
From these two conditions, out of these two neces- 
sities, must we imagine that the necessity for clothing 
became manifest. 
But to the more natural minds of our ancient ances- 
tors, it was viewed as merely a something to protect 
them from the inclemencies of the weather ; hence the 
skins of wild animals were roughly fashioned into cov- 
erings for the body. 
By-and-by the art of manufacture became known; 
men learned how to weave and spin, and more beautiful 
but less natural clothing was the result. The ancient 
Greeks and Romans wore their loose fitting and flow- 
ing while their feet were covered with sandals. 
Since clothing was necessary, these learned men and 
great warriors conceived the true idea of its utility, 
and dressed accordingly. Their vital functions were 
not interfered with by the use of improper clothing, 
while their garb was more graceful and becoming than 
is the ridiculous style of dress of the present day. NECESSITY OF CLOTHING. 
325 
The history of the world from the earliest times 
evinces a constant restlessness and desire for change 
on the part of human beings. This is manifested in 
everything. It no doubt arises from the laudable de- 
sire for progress, to improve on that which exists, and 
so must not be universally condemned. But, occa- 
sionally, we see the spirit of enterprise entering into 
and controlling certain matters that are well enough 
already, and had better be let alone. Then does it 
deserve censure, and then must it be subjected to con- 
trol. Preeminently has this been the case in the mat- 
ter of dress. Were it possible, there is no question 
that the original costume of Adam and Eve would be 
the healthiest and most desirable mode of undress for 
their modern descendants. But for two reasons has 
this natural clothing been rendered a thing impossible 
to our present society :— 
First, because such a radical change would, until 
custom bred tolerance, be calculated to generate so 
much lust and immorality that the human race would 
become even more demoralized than they are, in the 
effort to work this reform. 
Secondly, because, accustomed, as the children of civil- 
ization unfortunately are, to be bundled and wrapped 
from their earliest infancy, such unusual exposure of 
the surface would be very unhealthy. 
I have seen the dress, the whole costume, of Egypt- 
ian women, from far up the Nile, which consisted merely 
of a narrow band of leather, to encircle the waist, from 
which depended fringe of sufficient length only to cover 
their absolute nakedness. The Indians of our far 
Northwest, who are subjected to the coldest of 326 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
weather, oftentimes, when found in their native, 
savage condition, have been known to wear but little 
more. Here, then, from the balmy, enervating climate 
of Nubia on the one extreme, and from the freezing 
regions of our great Northwest on the other, come 
living and speaking examples, to teach us that clothing 
is not really necessary for human nature, but is one 
of those unnatural necessities which the exigencies and 
misfortunes of artificial life have forced upon us. 
But I am not writing this book for Egyptians and 
Indians, therefore, having used them to point my state- 
ment, that clothing is not necessary or would not be 
so, for man in his natural state, I will come down to 
the practical points involved in dress, and discuss 
clothing as I find it among the majority of my prospec- 
tive readers. 
In the first place, I will tell you that clothing does 
not absolutely make the body warm, it only serves to 
keep it so. Heat is generated within you ; from what 
is, in reality, a burning or combustion of coal. A few 
words will explain this. Coal is made up largely of 
carbon; when it burns in the stove or open grate, this 
carbon unites with the oxygen in the atmosphere, and 
as a result of this union heat is generated. Precisely 
the same thing occurs in the body. The carbon is 
derived from the dead tissue, which, as you now know, 
has had its day, has performed its duty and is ready 
for removal. It is one of the products of retrograde 
metamorphosis. The oxygen is derived from the air 
introduced into the body in breathing; these two ele- 
ments unite, and though you cannot see the flame, as 
you do in the stove, still, surely is heat generated. OBJECT OF CLOTHING. 
327 
Heat is necessary for life. You all know how impos- 
sible it would be for vegetable life to exist without the 
heat of the sun; so is it impossible for animal life to 
continue without the constant generation of this internal 
heat. 
You have all heard the expression, “ cold as a corpse,” 
and are familiar with the popular notion (in which there 
is oftentimes much truth), that when death is approach- 
ing the nose and extremities become icy cold. This 
will be the case, even though the temperature of the 
room may be very high; and a dead man will be cold 
under the same circumstances. From this we learn a 
lesson, and by it we are taught the necessity of pro- 
duction of internal heat, and the fact that the body does 
not become warm from artificial or external heat. 
Nature likes averages, as much as she abhors vacuums. 
She will not tolerate the absence of the first, any more 
than she will the presence of the second, if she can 
help it. Therefore, if the body of man is at a tempera- 
ture of 98° Fah., and he is in a room of a temperature 
of 68° or 70°, some of the heat from his body is given 
off to the atmosphere of the room, so as to elevate it and 
strike an average between the two. It is necessary 
for health that this bodily heat should be given off, 
because it is being constantly generated, and if not 
eliminated, the temperature will run up too high and 
cause fever. Whenever a man’s temperature exceeds 
990 Fah. he is in a condition of fever, and since this 
state is due to an excessive combustion or burning, or 
too little elimination, it will unnaturally soon exhaust 
the vital power if allowed to persist. If the tempera- 
ture of the surrounding atmosphere is very low, as in 328 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
winter, it will, of course, extract a great deal of heat 
from the body. When, therefore, you sit by the stove, 
your body does not in reality become any warmer by 
absorption of heat from the burning coal, but owing to 
the fact that the air in the immediate vicinity of the 
stove is very warm, it requires less heat, and conse- 
quently makes less demand on your vital heat. 
So that any artificial combustion really makes you 
warmer by superheating the atmosphere, when it re- 
quires to abstract less heat from your body. 
There are certain articles of diet that are calculated 
in an especial manner to generate this internal heat, 
because they are very rich in carbon, or coal, or fuel. 
But leaving them out of consideration for the present, 
we know, from what I have already told you, that by 
exercise, any particular function, organ, or part of the 
body may become so developed as to be capable of 
performing almost any amount of work. The heat 
generating function is no exception to this universal rule. 
Witness the Esquimaux, who, living in such terrific 
cold that it is considered almost foolhardy for any one 
unacclimated to penetrate into their country, yet be- 
cause it is necessary, on account of their very surround- 
ings, are capable of generating so much bodily warmth 
that this great cold causes them no more inconvenience 
than is experienced by the residents of our middle 
States when the temperature falls a few degrees below 
zero. Yet they are formed, anatomically, the same as 
we are; but by constant use, and to supply the demand, 
their ability to make heat within the body has become 
very great. If a pork packer, of intelligence and en- 
terprise, finds the demand for the product of his estab- OBJECT OF CLOTHING. 
329 
lishment increasing, he can enlarge his facilities, and if 
the growing demand is gradual, his production can 
keep pace with it. But if he has on hand only one 
hundred barrels of pork, and a peremptory order is 
received for five hundred, he must either fail to fulfill 
the order, or borrow, or buy from some neighbor. 
So it is with bodily heat. If the body is at all times 
subjected to the same low temperature, enough heat 
will be generated to meet the demand. If the outside 
demand gradually increases, the inside production will 
keep pace with it; but if a great, sudden and unexpect- 
ed lowering of the outside temperature takes place, the 
internal manufacture must either fail to supply this 
unusual demand, when the body becomes cold, or it 
must ask for assistance. Since it cannot borrow heat 
from the stove and absorb it into itself, for the reasons 
I have given, it must become equal to this extra de- 
mand in one of two ways. It must either generate 
more heat by piling on more coal, or it must resort to 
measures calculated to prevent the heat escaping from 
the body. The first can be, and is often, accomplished 
by the use of alcohol, which will serve to bridge over a 
short period of excessive cold, because, being rich in 
carbon, it contains fuel that will be calculated to make 
the vital fire burn with unwonted energy. But it is a 
double-edged sword; it cuts both ways ; while it will 
make the body warmer for a while, just as the use of 
bellows will make a fire burn brighter for a time, yet 
this very extra burning will prematurely exhaust the 
supply of material from which the heat is derived, when, 
in one instance, the fire goes out, while in the other, 
the body becomes cold. It will not do to suppose that 330 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
this extra heat can be maintained indefinitely long by 
the continued use of alcohol, because after a time the 
alcohol will so derange and vitiate all the functions 
that they will be unable to generate even the ordinary 
or natural amount. 
So that it will be safe to say, that when exposed to 
extraordinary cold weather for a short time, and you 
know that the exposure will be brief, a little alcohol 
will so aid the natural production of heat as to be bene- 
ficial ; but if this exposure is going to be prolonged, 
the use of this agent will ultimately result in making 
you feel the cold all the more. The second indication 
can be fulfilled by the use of appropriate clothing, and 
this brings us down to the business of our chapter. 
Clothing serves the purpose of keeping the heat within 
the body. But, as you know it will not do to have too 
much heat retained, the surface must be cooled by 
absorption of perspiration into the surrounding atmos- 
phere, else the body will be feverish. Therefore, when 
clothing shields the surface from the air, it must be of 
such a quality as to absorb the perspiration itself. 
To combine, then, the two necessary qualifications 
for clothing, we needs must have material that is po- 
rous and capable of absorbing water, while at the same 
time it must be a poor conductor of heat. 
There are two principal features in connection with 
heat that more particularly concern us in their relations 
to the human body, namely conduction and radiation or 
reflectioii. By the first, any excess of heat is conduct- 
ed or taken away from the body, while by the second 
any outside very high degree of heat is reflected away 
from the body, just as light is reflected from a mirror. THE HAT. 
331 
From these two properties has arisen the prevalent 
fashion of wearing dark clothing in winter and light in 
summer. While the texture and thickness, of course, 
make a difference, yet the color is a very important 
factor; dark materials absorb heat, when the air in the 
interstices between the fibres of the garments becomes 
very warm, and so retains the heat in the body, while, 
on the other hand, light-colored material will reject the 
heat; it will reflect and throw it off, so that the surface 
will be enabled to give off its superfluous heat. 
For the same reason do men wear white high hats 
and straw hats in summer, while dark or black ones 
are the rule in winter. 
We will now commence from the top and go down 
to the feet, and tell you about each article of clothing, 
and what will be the best. High beaver hats in winter 
and high white cloth hats in summer, are by all odds 
the healthiest head gear for men. 
For the vigorous growth of the hair, and to insure a 
healthy condition of the scalp, it is necessary that both 
should have plenty of air, which will at the same time 
serve to keep the head cool and save you many a 
headache. If you wear a low-crowned hat, it will 
necessarily confine a small quantity of air on top of 
the head, which will soon become foul and superheated, 
from the dead tissue and heat given off. But if you 
take a high hat, and have a small hole punched through 
either side, just above the rim, and a larger hole in the 
centre of the crown, it will act like the pipe of a stove; 
there will be a constant draught, because the heat from 
the head will warm the air, causing it to ascend and 
escape through the upper opening, while fresh air will 332 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
enter at the sides to take its place, thus creating a con- 
stant current, which will be very conducive to health. 
I know that many men, who prefer low hats, will con- 
tinue to wear them, laughing at the small points I have 
mentioned, and considering them not worth attention. 
I cannot help it if they do; I am telling you what 
you ought to do, and if you will not follow my advice, 
the fault is your own and not mine. It has been be- 
cause I have noticed such a universal neglect of these 
small points that I have written this book, because they 
are generally omitted in similar books, since, no doubt, 
the authors take it for granted that the public are 
already familiar with them. 
Now, we come to collars. They should be worn loose, 
so as not to constrict the neck in the slightest degree. 
Some of the largest and most important blood vessels 
in the body pass up and down through the neck; just 
below the skin are two very large veins, which bring 
back the blood from the brain ; if the collar fits tight 
and compresses these veins, it will, of course, interfere 
with the return, when a certain amount of congestion 
(of too much blood in the brain) will be the result. 
Then comes under-clothing. These articles of 
apparel have been very much discussed, but can be 
dismissed with a few words. You all know that they 
are made of a great variety of material. Those of 
animal origin, such as wool, silk, hair, furs and skins, 
are all of them worse conductors of heat, and there- 
fore warmer than materials derived from vegetable 
sources, such as cotton, linen, hemp and flax. 
Therefore, in winter time you ought to wear under- 
clothing made of wool, for these two reasons. First, TEXTURE OF CLOTHING. 
333 
because it will keep the heat in the body, and, secondly, 
because it will absorb the surface moisture. For those 
who can afford it, silk will be best, because it is the 
poorest conductor of heat, and will, therefore, keep 
the body warmer. Most persons will lay off woolen 
under-clothing during the summer; it will be much 
better not to do so. Wear them much thinner, of 
course, but wear them the year through. It will be 
much safer to reduce your temperature by using very 
thin outside garments; but keep wool next to the skin, 
to absorb the moisture. If you neglect this advice you 
will be very apt to take cold. If you have on the sur- 
face of your body some material that will not absorb 
moisture, it will remain on your body, and when you 
may happen to sit down after any unusual exertion, on 
a warm day, the air will so chill your body, by rapidly 
evaporating from the wet surface, that it will be very 
apt to produce the series of phenomena I have already 
described under the head of catching cold. 
Excessively heavy under-clothing will be injurious, 
because such a weight will really exhaust the body in 
supporting it. It will be much better to dress only 
moderately warmly, and to supply any deficiency in 
heat by proper food and exercise. 
It is a mistake to wear very heavy outside clothing 
in winter; while, of course, you must make a difference 
between summer and winter, yet even on the coldest 
days the clothing ought to be only moderately heavy, 
for the following reason: Some men will buy the 
heaviest and bulkiest cloth suit they can get, and will 
then go out on the coldest days without an overcoat. 
They have worn the same clothing in the warm house, 334 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
because very few men will take the trouble to change 
when they come in; or, at least, they are sure, when 
down town, attending to business, to run in and out from 
the warm office to the cold street. By this means the 
body, rendered accustomed to a certain degree of 
warmth in an artificially heated atmosphere, is not pre- 
pared to meet and resist the sudden transition to a 
temperature many degrees lower, and serious injury 
may result. 
It would be much wiser to wear a moderately heavy 
suit, and never go out of doors without putting on an 
overcoat. Do not put on your extra coat and then 
remain in the warm room for a few minutes ; if you do, 
you will nullify the benefits you expect to derive from 
it. Put it on just before you leave the house and take 
it off the moment you enter. A long cloak, reaching to 
the knees, well lined, will be an improvement on the 
overcoat, although in our day it is not quite so fashion- 
able; in its capacious folds a man can envelop himself 
and defy the coldest days. It is so much easier to throw 
this cloak over your shoulders and draw it about you, 
than it is to pull on a heavy overcoat, pull down your 
under coat, that it may not project above the collar of 
the great coat, and button this latter about you, that I 
am sure the superior claims of the cloak will commend 
themselves to all who give it a trial. 
Now we come to stockings. Very few persons real- 
ize what an important part these little garments play 
in the preservation of health. Two golden rules have 
been laid down, which ought to be observed by every 
one: i. Keep your head cool. 2. Keep your feet 
warm. You can be made to understand why this latter STOCKINGS. 
335 
rule is so important by a few words of explanation. 
You know now that every body contains a certain 
amount of blood, distributed throughout every part of 
it, and constantly circulating around. When a part is 
warm it contains more blood than when it is cold, and 
vice versa. This you can understand, because the cold 
will contract the blood vessels of the cold part and so 
drive the blood out of them, while heat, on the con- 
trary, will dilate the vessels and invite a flow of blood 
into them. 
Some feet are very large and contain a great deal 
of blood; if, now, they are cold, this blood is driven out 
of them; but it must go somewhere; it cannot leave 
the body, so it ascends and forces its unwelcome pres- 
ence on some of the warm, internal and vital organs ; 
hence it is that wet and cold feet, which are so often 
companions, are such frequent producers of colds. 
When I was a child I remember how, when I would 
come into the house on a rainy day, my good and care- 
ful mother would remove my wet shoes and stockings, 
and making me put my feet first into a tub of warm 
water, would then thoroughly rub them, until they 
fairly glowed, with bathing whisky, when would follow 
a few minutes before the heater, and a warm, dry pair of 
stockings and shoes. As I write, I can recall the deli- 
cious sensation produced by my warm feet, and I do 
most earnestly recommend all mothers to follow this 
example with their children. 
A few years ago there lived in our city a very emi- 
nent clergyman, who, with his other profound knowl- 
edge, thoroughly realized and appreciated the neces- 
sity of keeping his feet warm. So much importance 336 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
did he attach to it, that he kept on hand a large supply 
of stockings, of different weights ; outside of his win- 
dow hung a thermometer; when he arose in the morn- 
ing he looked at this instrument, and decided what pair 
of stockings he would wear, according to the degree of 
heat or cold that it registered. Many persons laughed 
at him for what they called his old maidish habits; but 
by this very action he clearly demonstrated how well 
he knew the small points so necessary to maintain 
health, and by the practice of which he was enabled to 
live to a great age and perform an immense amount of 
work. 
So, then, it is very important that you should avoid 
wet or cold feet. 
Now we come to shoes. I am quite sure that corns 
and bunions were unknown in the days of sandals. Ill 
fitting shoes are prolific sources of much discomfort, 
and are always the cause of corns. A corn is due to 
irritation, by which excessive activity in the outer layer 
of the skin is produced, which causes it to become thick 
and hard at the point so irritated. The various nerves 
of the surface terminate in the skin, in the true skin, 
that is, below the outer layer; when the outer skin 
becomes hard and tough from the pressure and irrita- 
tion, it impinges on the sensitive extremity of a nerve, 
hence the painful corn. If, then, an ill fitting shoe rubs 
or presses on any particular part of the foot more 
than another, it will be very apt to produce a corn, no 
matter where this pressure may be exerted. I have 
myself had a corn on my instep from wearing a shoe 
that was too tight and constricting over this portion of 
my foot. Therefore, shoes ought always to be suffi- SHOES, 
337 
ciently loose, but not too much so. If you go to the 
other extreme, and have your shoes too large, they 
will be apt to rub your feet and make them sore by 
raisin of blisters. 
A good rule will be, always to have your shoes made 
sufficiently large that you may put them on when new, 
and wear them right straight along. Of course, it will 
be impossible to have a new shoe feel as easy as an old 
one; the new leather will be somewhat stiff, and must 
naturally get the set of the foot; but what I mean is, 
that you ought not to have your shoes made so tight 
that you will have to go through a process of breaking 
them in, being able only to wear them for a few hours 
at a time. 
I used to have a great deal of trouble with my feet. 
I had my shoes made to order, and would always suf- 
fer real torment with each new pair. Finally I made 
up my mind to buy my shoes ready-made, to select only 
such a pair as would go on easily, without any pulling, 
in the store, and that did not hurt at all. I have been 
observing this rule now for some years, and have no 
more trouble, so that I expect to buy ready-made 
shoes for the rest of my life. Your feet will not look 
quite as small nor as handsome as though you had the 
shoemaker make your shoes a very tight fit; but you 
will have much more comfort. Again, large shoes are 
more calculated to keep the feet warm, because they 
will allow space between the foot and its covering for 
a quantity of warm air, heated from the foot, while if 
the shoe fits skin-tight, the foot will thus be brought 
into direct contact with the outside cold air. Again, 
will these very tight shoes interfere with the free circu- 338 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
lation of blood, and by mechanically pressing the blood 
out of the constricted vessels, produce the dangers 
which I have already told you this condition may give 
rise to. 
Above all things avoid short shoes. There is no 
more prolific cause of that terribly annoying, obstinate 
and painful trouble, “ ingrowing toe nails," than short 
shoes. The best plan of shoe is the one we sometimes 
see, where the sole is long and broad, projecting in all 
directions for as much as one-eighth of an inch beyond 
the foot and the upper. 
Having now disposed of the ordinary garments, our 
attention is claimed by the outside wraps or protections 
against inclement weather. Since all such are intend- 
ed to guard us from wet, they must necessarily be 
waterproof. Gum shoes and gum coats are very good 
articles in their time and place, but you must be very 
sure that they are not used out of time. Since they 
are intended to protect you from water, you must use 
them only when you are exposed to water. If you 
wear heavy overshoes, made of gum, on a clear day, 
no matter how cold it may be, and the same can be 
said of a gum coat, you do yourself an injury. Be- 
cause, while gum is impervious to water, it also refuses 
passage to air, hence the process of evaporation from 
the surface is impeded, when the water and its solid 
particles are compelled to remain on the skin, which is 
very unhealthy. This same thing will occur, it is true, 
in rainy weather, but then the benefit derived from the 
protection from wet will offset the injury from the re- 
tention of perspiration. It would be much more com- 
fortable for a man going out on a rainy day to put on 339 
DRESS FOR WOMEN. 
a gum coat and walk along without an 
umbrella, and I advise all to do so ; but as soon as you 
enter any building where you are protected from the 
rain, no matter if you are only going to remain indoors 
ten minutes, take off your coat, or it will prove ulti- 
mately injurious. The same must be said of rubber 
overshoes ; never sit down in the house without re- 
moving them. Besides imprisoning the moisture of 
the feet, they will draw them so as eventually to become 
very uncomfortable. Remember, again, what I have 
already impressed on you, that there is a time and a 
place for everything, and that to derive the greatest 
good from any given article it must be used rightly and 
in its proper place. Therefore all extra wraps, of 
whatever character, whether they partake of the nature 
of scarfs or gum material impervious to water, should 
be worn only when you are exposed to cold or wet, 
and ought to be at once removed when you enter any 
building. If you neglect this rule, you will be very apt 
to take cold, and no one can tell where an ordinary 
cold will terminate. If you put on an overcoat and go 
out for a while, and coming into the house, neglect to 
remove it, in a short time your body will become so 
accustomed to this extra covering that when you again 
go out it will be as it would have been if you had first 
ventured forth without any additional protection. 
DRESS FOR WOMEN. 
The same advice about wearing woolen under-gar- 
ments applies to women, but in an especial manner. 
A man will be protected to a certain extent by his out- 
side garments, while the case will be widely different 
with women. Their loose dresses and petticoats will 340 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
act like a veritable funnel, while the heat of their 
bodies will tend to cause an upward draught, that will 
invite the cold air from below to flow up into contact 
with the surface. If, now, they wear woolen drawers 
and undershirts, they will be protected from this 
danger. 
All the other remarks that have been made about 
clothing in general, apply equally to women, but there 
are some special features about their dress that require 
special notice. I have already had words of condem- 
nation for corsets; I must again say something about 
them. To our women they are almost necessities, be- 
cause by use the body has been brought into such a 
condition that their artificial support is requisite. When 
used merely to give this support, they will not prove 
so injurious ; but very few women so use them. The 
theory of their use is, that the lower part, resting on the 
prominences of the hips, through the agency of the stiff 
bones in their sides, they will give support to the upper 
portion of the body and all the organs it contains; they 
really act as additional, as artificial ribs or chest walls 
and backbone. So far, they may do good. But the 
majority of fashionable women do not stop here. They 
use corsets as an instrument of torture really, by means 
of which they lace themselves until they reduce their 
waists to unnaturally small proportions. It will be im- 
possible to do this without compressing the organs in 
the abdomen or belly, and it will be impossible for 
such contracted organs to do their duty. In a word, 
to dismiss the subject, because it is not one that 
admits of argument; no woman can remain long 
healthy who resorts to very tight lacing. Apart from DRESS FOR WOMEN. 
341 
the hygienic view of the case, there is another aspect 
in which I wish to place it. Women who resort to this 
habit, do so because they imagine that by reducing 
their waists they are enhancing their personal beauty. 
If they desire to impress women as silly as themselves, 
perhaps they can do it; if they desire to please ultra- 
fashionable young men, whose mental capacity is just 
about sufficient to take in the calibre of a wasp-like 
waist, they may succeed; but if they-imagine that by 
thus deforming themselves they will secure the ad- 
miration of sensible men and women, they had better 
be undeceived at once, and informed that they receive 
only what they deserve, namely, ridicule. 
In wet weather it would be well for women to wear 
thin rubber leggings, from the knee down ; by so doing 
they will not only keep their limbs warm, but will pre- 
vent the wet and muddy skirts from coming into 
contact with their stockings. If these are used, in 
connection with the woolen under-clothing, an old- 
fashioned worsted sontag over the body of the dress, 
to protect the chest, waterproof and gum shoes, the 
most fragile woman is prepared to brave the most 
inclement weather, and to derive positive benefit from 
such exposure. 
When a woman is pregnant, her clothing ought to 
be especially loose, because, if tight, it will offer a 
mechanical interference to the free development of the 
baby. At all times (but particularly for a woman in 
this condition) ought the following rule to be religi- 
ously observed:— 
Suspend all your clothing from the shoulders, and 
allow no article to be kept in position by a circular 342 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
constricting force. How many boys refuse to wear 
suspenders, many of them strapping a belt tightly 
around the waist to hold the pantaloons up. From 
what I have said, you can understand how injurious 
this will be. 
It would be a good plan for women and children to 
hang the petticoats by bands from the shoulders, and 
making a button-hole in either end of a piece of elastic, 
to attach one end to a button on the stocking, and 
the other end to a button on the body, to which 
is fastened the drawers. The ordinary elastic garter 
is injurious, because it exerts compression, and thus 
interferes with the free circulation in the skin. By 
the means I have suggested, all constriction will be 
removed from every portion of the body, and this is 
the object you must desire to accomplish. 
I would recommend that young babies be kept in 
loiig clothing until they are nine months or a year old. 
Some friends will tell you that this will prevent them 
learning to walk soon; so it will, but instead of being 
an objection, this is in reality an advantage. Most 
children commence to walk too soon. The bones of a 
young baby are really hardly bones at all, they are 
more like cartilage or gristle. If the weight of the body 
is put upon these weak and pliable supports, they will 
be very apt to bend, when you will have a bow-legged 
child. I would never recommend you to teach a child 
to walk. It is a duty that comes as natural as eating, 
and when the proper time arrives, the child will walk 
of itself, without any training, and will have beautiful, 
straight limbs. By keeping to the long clothing for a 
lengthy period, you make sure that baby’s limbs will be DRESS FOR WOMEN. 
343 
warm, and avoid the risk of giving it cold. Whatever 
you do, never change from long to short clothes in 
winter. 
So, then, we now have the main points in connection 
with clothing. We understand that its chief purpose 
is to prevent the escape of the heat generated within 
the body. We have studied the kinds of garments 
best calculated to fulfill this indication, and we know 
how so to dress that our clothing may not injure us. 
To sum up, I will quote the following from the Brit- 
ish Medical Journal:— 
“ The Dress of the Period.—A lecture on this 
subject was given, under the auspices of the National 
Health Society, by Mr. Frederick Treves, of the London 
Hospital, on Saturday, February 26th, 1882 in the Ken- 
sington Town Hall, before a crowded audience, almost 
wholly composed of ladies. Mr. Treves, assuming that 
the primary objects of dressing were to cover the 
body and maintain an equable temperature, pointed 
out that in a low evening dress these objects appeared 
to have received little or no attention. The neck and 
arms, and upper part of the chest and back, were left 
bare ; while about the lower extremities was accumu- 
lated a mass of raiment that would clothe a dozen chil- 
dren. In the ordinary dress of women, also, little re- 
gard was had for maintaining an equable temperature. 
The covering of the upper part of the chest, above the 
line of the corset, was very thin, perhaps that of the 
dress only. The region of the corset was reasonably 
covered, while about the hips many layers of clothing 
were massed. Thus the body might be divided geo- 
graphically into a frigid, a temperate, and a torrid zone. 344 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
Dealing next with tight-lacing, the lecturer said that 
children had normally no waist; and, if a mother gave 
her thought to the matter for a week, she could devise 
nothing more fatal to health than to make her daugh- 
ter wear stays ‘ to improve her figure/ The normal 
waist of a woman, which was oval in section, had a cir- 
cumference of twenty-eight to twenty-nine inches ; the 
‘ elegant’ waist, which was in section circular, a cir- 
cumference of twenty inches ; while the measurement 
of dressmakers’ lay figures now varied from twenty- 
one to twenty-four inches. Mr. Treves also showed 
how, by the compression of the lower ribs, the stomach, 
liver and lungs were displaced, and their free and ne- 
cessary action prevented; and quoted medical evidence 
of the many and serious, often fatal, consequences.” 
If you will well consider the hints I have given you, 
and exercise your intelligence to elaborate and execute 
them, you will soon discover that clothing and longevity 
are more nearly allied than you have before imagined. EFFECTS OF SMOKING. 
345 
CHAPTER XIII. 
WHY WE OUGHT NOT TO USE TOBACCO. 
Let me commence by giving the experience of an 
intimate friend, who has carefully observed the effects 
of tobacco on himself, and who, as a consequence of 
this observation, decided to discontinue its use: “Upon 
smoking a cigarette I immediately experienced the fol- 
lowing symptoms: The first inhalation of smoke would 
produce a sensation as though I had inhaled an irritant 
gas; a sense of dryness and irritation would be pro- 
duced in the region of the fauces and posterior portion 
of the roof of the mouth. Almost immediately a sense 
of dizziness and impaired mental perception of ideas 
and surroundings would ensue; this followed immedi- 
ately by palpitation of the heart and a sense of throb- 
bing in the vessels of the brain and head, while the 
pulsations in the temporal and other superficial arteries 
could readily be perceived to be increased in force and 
frequency. While in this condition, if any unusual 
muscular exertion were made, or should I suddenly rise 
from the recumbent to the erect posture, the palpita- 
tion would be much increased. Vision was not affected 
unless I smoked excessively, but some confusion of 
ideas ensued, and I found that, reading while in this 
condition, my power of grasping the meaning of what 
I read was lessened. The arm, extended from the 
body, showed a perceptible tremor of the hands and 
fingers, which did not exist when I was not smoking, 346 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
even though I used a moderate quantity of alcoholic 
liquor. If I smoked even one cigarette, immediately 
before going to bed, I felt a great dizziness upon assum- 
ing the recumbent posture, with a sense of uneasiness 
in the region of the stomach, sometimes amounting to 
a positive nausea. I would arise in the morning unre-' 
freshed, with a dull, heavy, throbbing sensation in the 
head, rarely amounting to, but bordering on a head- 
ache. My tongue would be more or less coated, and 
a disagreeable, foul taste in the mouth would give 
evidence of a disordered stomach, while my appetite 
for breakfast would be perceptibly diminished. In the 
intervals between smoking, while the palpitation would 
cease (unless some extra muscular exertion were 
made), I would have a sense of uneasiness in the region 
of the heart, best described by saying that “ I knew such 
an organ existedAfter having smoked for several 
years (some twelve), at times moderately, and again, 
excessively, and finding the symptoms above de- 
scribed to be increasing, so as to render me unfit for 
much mental exertion, and at the same time, being in 
the habit of using alcoholic drinks, I determined to find 
out to which poison I owed my condition of uneasiness. 
I accordingly passed one whole day without smoking, a 
thing I had not done in twelve years, and drank my accus- 
tomed quantity of alcohol. Before night the tremulous- 
ness of the hands and fingers alluded to was almost im- 
perceptible, my appetite was much improved, my spirits 
rose rapidly, and I felt, generally, much better than I had 
for a long time. That night I slept well, and arose in 
the morning refreshed and with but a slight degree of 
the distressing symptoms alluded to present. Another TOBACCO VS. ALCOHOL. 
347 
day passed without smoking and with the usual quan- 
tity of alcohol produced a corresponding improvement 
in my condition. The second night brought with it a 
sound and refreshing sleep, and I awoke in the morn- 
ing feeling like a different man. Now, on the evening 
of the third day I thought I would try whether this 
improvement was real or imaginary. I lit a cigarette, 
and instantly, upon inhaling the first puff of smoke, I 
became so dizzy that I was near falling, and the same 
old and well-known symptoms followed each other in 
rapid succession. During the evening I smoked two 
more cigarettes and retired about 11 o’clock. The next 
morning there was the dullness of the head, coated 
tongue, foul mouth, general feverish condition, and all 
the train of symptoms before described. My spirits 
were depressed, my energy and ambition blunted, and 
I felt sure that I must have some serious organic 
disease, and that my lease of life would not last much 
longer. I was constantly living in a state of suspense, 
feeling sure that some fatal malady would soon develop 
itself.” Now this, of course, is a marked case, but it 
demonstrates by actual experience, beyond a possibility 
of doubt, that the use of tobacco has proved injurious 
to at least one individual. Can any one say that what 
will prove evil to the one, does not have a bad effect 
on the many ? We are all formed on the same funda- 
mental plan. There are, no doubt, many men who 
will say that they have smoked tobacco for years, and 
yet have not experienced any of the troubles I have 
described. I purposely chose this exaggerated case, 
for two reasons, to demonstrate two propositions: 
First, if tobacco will produce the symptoms of ill 348 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
health that I have described, even in a single case, 
must we not consider that it possesses some properties 
and peculiarities which entitle it to be placed in the 
category of articles which can prove hurtful to the 
human being; and secondly, I consider this a very in- 
structive case, in so far as it demonstrates, in this par- 
ticular instance, that the use of tobacco proved more 
injurious than the use of alcohol. There are many 
men, no doubt, who are willing to admit that alcohol is 
a poison and will act injuriously on the human system 
to a greater or less extent, according to the degree of 
moderation or excess in which it is used, and also de- 
pendent upon the susceptibilities of each particular 
being to its poisonous influences, who will stoutly deny 
that tobacco is a poison at all. Yet in this case we 
find tobacco producing bad effects when alcohol failed 
to do so. The immediate effects of alcohol are so 
marked, and its use in excessive quantities produces 
such disgusting and revolting conditions of the human 
race, that we are much more ready to believe it an 
injurious article, because we clearly see before us the 
baneful effects of its immoderate use on the individual. 
Hence crusades are organized against its use, laws are 
enacted to prevent traffic in it, and moral suasion of 
all kinds is brought to bear against indulgence in it. 
The most dangerous enemies to the welfare, health 
and happiness of communities, as well as individuals, 
are generally conceded to be those who come dis- 
guised under a comparatively innocent exterior. Their 
claws, so to speak, their dangerous and destructive ele- 
ments, are so cleverly hidden beneath an apparently 
harmless presence, that instead of treating them as ene- ANALOGY BETWEEN TOBACCO AND OPIUM. 
349 
mies, we receive them oftentimes with open arms, and 
failing- to realize the injury they are working us, con- 
tinue to entertain them as good, pleasant, and harm- 
less company. May not tobacco be classed among 
these insidious enemies of the human race? I am most 
decidedly of opinion that it takes high rank among 
them. It does not produce the drunkenness of alcohol, 
it does not degrade us to the level of the beast, it does 
not cause murders, it does not make us bad husbands 
and fathers, it does not give us bloated faces, and it does 
not cause us to lose the respect and esteem of our fellow 
men; hence we fail to see where it does harm, and 
only look on its use as an innocent amusement and 
pleasure. Now, let us see whether we are right. Let 
me ask an ardent lover of tobacco, “ Does its use do you 
any good ?” If he does not frankly admit that he de- 
rives no benefit from it at all, all he can say truthfully is 
that it soothes and comforts him. So does opium 
soothe and comfort the Chinese, but would the smoker 
not turn with disgust from a befuddled and confused 
opium-eater, and be ready to write a homily upon the 
baneful effects of smoking opium. Does not tobacco 
produce analogous effects to opium ? Let us see :— 
EFFECTS OF TOBACCO. 
Large doses will cause vomiting. 
It quiets and soothes the nervous 
system. 
It destroys the appetite. 
It interferes with digestion. 
It causes dryness of the throat. 
It has a depressing effect. 
It interferes with mental activity. 
EFFECTS OF OPIUM. 
Large doses will cause vomiting. 
It quiets and soothes the nervous 
system. 
It destroys the appetite. 
It interferes with digestion. 
It causes dryness of the throat. 
It has a depressing effect. 
It interferes with mental activity. 
I could give you many more items of resemblance, 
but I merely desire to suggest to your minds the simi- 
larity of the two drugs, in order to point a question I 350 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
am going to ask. Cannot some of my smoking read- 
ers recall in themselves, or among their acquaintances, 
an instance where they have refused to take opium 
when ordered by their physician, because they consid- 
ered its use dangerous, and as likely to lead to the 
formation of the opium habit? Now, if what I have 
said will turn your thoughts in a channel, the result of 
which will be to convince you that opium and tobacco 
are very similar in their deleterious properties, and that 
the difference between them is one rather of degree 
than of kind, will you not think it well to let it alone ? 
As I will tell you about alcohol, the universality of its 
use is no argument in its favor. Opium is most exten- 
sively used in China, yet we, in America, decry the 
habit, and trust but little in any one addicted to its use. 
Some years ago, I heard a prominent physician (Dr. 
William Pepper, Provost of the University of Pennsyl- 
vania) characterize smoking as a vile habit, and make 
the broad assertion that no great smoker had ever 
continued an active life of mental labor beyond the age 
of forty or forty-five years. Because, he said, though 
his health may remain good, he seems to become indo- 
lent and languid, his former energy seems to forsake 
him, and he takes things as they come. At the time, 
being a great smoker myself, I received his statement 
with many grains of salt. I thought I could point to 
many instances of prolonged mental labor among 
smokers. In the years that have intervened, I have 
thought much, have read much, and have observed 
much, on this subject, and am now prepared to believe 
that he came very near the truth. I speak on a sub- 
ject about which I claim to know something, when I ACTION OF TOBACCO ON THE HEART. 
351 
talk about tobacco. As I say, I have been a great 
smoker myself, and I have now, after many years’ use, 
given it up, I hope forever, simply and only because by 
observation on myself and others, and by careful study 
of its effects, I have become firmly convinced that its use 
is injurious, and like alcohol, should only be indulged 
in by the advice of the physician. I do hope some 
of my readers will do likewise. Let us now, for a few 
minutes, study some of its effects and see how it acts 
injuriously. In the first place, I will tell you that it is 
a great cause of dyspepsia. It interferes with diges- 
tion, and thus causes all the train of evils and sufferings 
experienced by the dyspeptic. By this action, it causes 
the imperfect elaboration of our food, so it is turned 
into blood of an inferior quality, and our systems 
receive poor nourishment. Nicotine, the active prin- 
ciple, the most poisonous ingredient, of tobacco, is, of 
course, a foreign agent in the body; no part or organ 
needs it, and they are all anxious to get rid of it. It is 
removed from the body through the agency of the kid- 
neys, thus throwing extra work on these organs, and 
if they be weak, they may succumb to overwork and 
become diseased. If you could only look into your 
heart and see the delicate valves and thread-like tendons 
there, you would wonder how it is possible for them to 
withstand the great weight of the column of blood 
which, at times, presses back upon them, and you would 
readily imagine that any irregularity or excess of ac- 
tion would snap them asunder. I have already shown 
you that tobacco will increase the force and frequency 
of the heart’s action. Hence, this column of blood is 
thrown against these delicate valves with greater force 352 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
and so rapidly, that before they have recovered from the 
shock of one pulsation they receive the force of another. 
The heart is one of the most tireless organs in the 
body, acting day and night, year in and year out, yet it 
requires its periods of rest, just as all the other mus- 
cles do. This rest it gets and its waste is repaired 
during the momentary intervals between its pulsations. 
Now, if the heart’s action is increased in frequency, the 
duration of these periods of rest must be shortened, 
hence, the heart must suffer from overwork and want 
of rest. Those who inhale the smoke of tobacco carry 
into their lungs a large amount of nicotine, which, 
lining their cavities, interferes with the proper perform- 
ance of their function. To realize this, let anyone in- 
hale a quantity of smoke, and blow it out through a 
handkerchief held to the mouth; they will find a large 
amount of this nicotine deposited on the handkerchief. 
Dr. Wilson, in his valuable work on healthy life, says, 
“Any one who indulges (in tobacco) to such an extent as 
to render the tongue coated and dry, does himself an 
injury, and when palpitation of the heart or other 
nervous symptoms are induced he should leave off 
altogether.” 
The use of tobacco is particularly injurious to the 
young, because it arrests growth and enervates the en- 
tire system, which in turn interferes with and retards 
muscular and mental activity. So, parents, if you wish 
manly sons, keep tobacco away from your boys. You 
cannot do this by force. Moral suasion, and particu- 
larly example, will be your levers. You could hardly 
expect your young soq to see wrong in a habit prac- 
ticed by his father. Colton’s saying is very applicable WHAT CONSTITUTES EXCESS. 
353 
to the use both of tobacco and alcohol by the young; 
he says, “The excesses of our youth are drafts upon 
our old age, payable with interest about thirty years 
after date.” 
I need say but little more about tobacco. So much 
has been written and said against its use, and yet so 
many persons use it and desire to believe it innocent, 
because they want to continue its use, that I can do no 
good by extending my remarks on the subject. I have 
and will again assure you, from a medical standpoint, 
that tobacco is not necessary to the human body, that 
it cannot do any good to a healthy man, while in very 
many instances it can and will do positive harm. Like 
every other injurious agent, the amount of evil done 
will be in exact relation to the quantity of the evil agent 
employed. Therefore, let me urge that very large 
class, even among intelligent and worthy men, who use 
tobacco, to be moderate in their consumption of it. 
And, since moderation in this connection is a relative 
term, for the guidance of those who would desire to be 
moderate, I would say that when you find the symp- 
toms detailed in the first part of this chapter, then make 
up your minds that you are smoking or chewing too 
much. So long as these symptoms do not offer them- 
selves, then, if you will smoke, you may have the satis- 
faction of feeling that tobacco is not doing you so very 
much harm ; and by carefully noting these symptoms 
you will be enabled to decide what will constitute mod- 
eration in your particular case. I am compelled to say 
what I have just said, because I so thoroughly realize 
how almost impossible it will be to induce persons who 
have once contracted the habit of smoking to abandon 354 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
it; therefore, I feel that the best I can do is to caution 
such persons against its use, and to show them how 
they may indulge it in moderation. 
Far be it from me to attempt to make persons live 
wisely through fear; I am one of those who believe 
that sensible men must be controlled by conviction, 
and not through fear. Still, when I find authentic cases 
I feel that some good may be done by giving them 
publicity, since, as I have already said, if tobacco is 
capable of doing such harm as it does in some cases, 
we cannot possibly regard it as entirely innocuous in 
the majority of instances. In this belief, I will con- 
dense from the official report of the “Transactions of 
the Medical Society of the County of Albany (N. Y.)” 
the following remarkable case: “Dr. J. M. Bigelow re- 
ported a case of tobacco poisoning. I was called 
hastily to see a young man who had been suddenly 
seized on the street with a convulsion, of which there 
was no premonition. I found him pallid; countenance 
pinched and contorted; pulse variable, being for a 
few seconds 136 to the minute, then 38, and intermit- 
tent. He had severe pain and distress in the left side, 
especially over the heart. Difficulty in breathing was 
marked. Cold perspiration and great prostration. 
Convulsions rapidly succeeded each other, without loss 
of consciousness. When the convulsion passed off, 
it was succeeded by hysterical trembling, with agonized 
apprehension of approaching catastrophe and death. 
He would clutch the arm of a bystander and beseech 
him to save his life, to relieve him of the great distress 
in his chest and threatening suffocation. I learned that 
this was his third attack within a year. He was an AN ILLUSTRATION. 
355 
excessive tobacco smoker, sometimes consuming ten 
cigars a day; he had begun its use at the age of twelve. 
He had little appetite most of the time, was pale and 
cadaverous, enfeebled, restless, starting in his sleep, and 
his disposition had become irritable. There was no 
family history of nervous disease; his own health, 
aside from this, had been good. Medical treatment 
was instituted, and in a few days he resumed his busi- 
ness, with directions as to care of himself, and tobacco 
interdicted. Four days later, I was again called hastily, 
and found him having symptoms as already described, 
but even more intense; his fear of death had become 
a mania, and his convulsions had become the most 
violent I ever saw. He had been quite fretful for a 
day or two, neglecting his meals and smoking eight to 
fourteen cigars daily. Medical treatment was again 
commenced. He was much better next day, but still 
had hysterical trembling, distress in the region of the 
heart, with occasional transient, convulsive agitation of 
the whole body. He could hardly sit upright, and had 
numbness of the extremities and tongue. Continuing 
to improve from the immediate symptoms of the attack, 
he was put on tonic treatment and sent to the country, 
whence he returned in a few weeks fully restored to 
health. Since then, smoking four or five cigars in 
succession has been, on three occasions, followed by a 
return,'to a degree, of the symptoms. He has now 
given up tobacco entirely and has good health.” In 
continuation, he said: “ Investigation by an imperial 
commission in France, in 1861, showed that the num- 
ber of paralytics and insane in the hospitals increased 
with the tobacco tax. The report stated that a large 356 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
number of the diseases of the nervous system and 
heart, found in paralytics and insane, were regarded as 
a sequence of the excessive use of tobacco. M. Jolly 
said that “tobacco seems to act primarily on the organ- 
ic nervous system, depressing its functions, such as the 
nutrition of the body, circulation of the blood, and the 
number of the red blood corpuscles.” Attention was 
called to the bad digestion, disorders of circulation, be- 
numbed intelligence, and clouded memory following its 
excessive use. Other well known authority was quo- 
ted in confirmation.” After the conclusion of Dr. 
Bigelow’s remarks, Dr. Stonehouse mentioned a case 
of acute mania produced by excessive tobacco smoking, 
and relieved by cutting it off. Many such cases could 
be quoted, but suffice it to say that this is not a solitary 
case. If tobacco in excess can produce such terrible 
symptoms, we ought to use it very carefully and be ex- 
ceedingly cautious not to go to excess. One word about 
cigarette smoking. The Philadelphia Times has dis- 
cussed this vice so well, that I will only say that cigar- 
ette smoking is more injurious than any other form of 
smoking tobacco; that is to say, when you use the 
American made cigarettes sold in the stores, because 
both the tobacco and paper contain impurities that are 
even more injurious than pure tobacco. In conclu- 
sion, I will again remind you that excess is the greatest 
foe to longevity, and that if you do not experience any 
of the symptoms detailed, you are not using tobacco to 
an extent to constitute excess in your particular case. 
But, if any of these signs are present (no matter how 
slight they may be) you are using too much; and I 
must further add that, in my opinion, at least, there is A PARABLE. 
357 
no healthy man who would not be better off if he did 
not use tobacco at all. These same remarks will ap- 
ply in the main to the filthy and ungentlemanly habit 
of chewing tobacco. The Christian Secretary con- 
tained a very amusing paragraph on tobacco, which I 
will give in full:— 
“Tobacco. A Parable.—Then shall the kingdom of 
Satan be likened to a grain of tobacco seed; which, 
though exceeding small, being cast into the ground, grew 
and became a great plant, and spread its leaves, rank 
and broad, so that huge and vile worms formed a habita- 
tion thereon. And it came to pass, in the course of 
time, that the sons of man looked upon it, and thought it 
beautiful to look upon, and much to be desired to make 
lads look big and manly. So they did put forth their 
hands and did chew thereof. And some it made sick, 
and others to vomit most filthily. And it further came 
to pass that those who chewed it became weak and 
unmanly, and said we are enslaved, and cannot cease 
from chewing it. And the mouths of all that were 
enslaved became foul; and they were seized with a 
violent spitting; and they did spit, even in ladies’ par- 
lors,* and in the house of the Lord of Hosts. And the 
saints of the Most High were greatly plagued thereby. 
And in the course of time it also came to pass that 
others snuffed it; and they were taken suddenly with 
fits, and they did sneeze with a great and mighty 
sneeze, insomuch that their eyes were filled with tears, 
and they did look exceedingly silly. And yet others 
cunningly wrought the leaves thereof into rolls, and did 
set fire to the one end thereof, and did suck vehemently 
at the other end thereof and did look very grave 358 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
and calf-like; and the smoke of their torment ascended 
up forever and forever. And the cultivation thereof 
became a great and mighty business in the earth; and 
the merchant-men waxed rich by the commerce thereof. 
And it came to pass that the Saints of the Most High 
defiled themselves therewith; even the poor, who could 
not buy shoes, nor bread, nor books for their little ones, 
spent their money for it. And the Lord was greatly 
displeased therewith, and said: ‘Wherefore this waste; 
and why do these little ones lack bread, and shoes, and 
books? Turn now your fields into corn and wheat; 
and put this evil thing far from you; and be separate, 
and defile not yourselves any more; and I will bless you 
and cause my face to shine upon you.’ But with one 
accord, they all exclaimed: ‘ We cannot cease from 
chewing, snuffing and puffing; we are slaves.’” INFLUENCE OF ALCOHOL. 
359 
CHAPTER XIV. 
WHY WE OUGHT NOT TO USE ALCOHOL. 
Since more disease is caused, directly or indirectly, by 
the use of alcohol, and since there are so many collat- 
eral evils resulting from its use, I will go into this ques- 
tion at some length. 
If I had my own way, and could conduct the world on 
my own ideal plan, I would begin by banishing alcohol 
from the face of the earth. This seems like very 
strong language; wait awhile, and hear me further. 
This chapter is not intended to be a temperance lec- 
ture ; so, my old toper friend, you can read it through 
without fear of having your sensibilities wounded by 
ranting temperance talk, or pen pictures of the horrible 
results of drunkenness. I have nothing to do with the 
moral points involved in the alcohol question. I intend 
only to give you a few plain, intelligible facts concern- 
ing its use, with the reasons why these facts are facts. 
Why would you banish alcohol from the earth ? asks 
our moderate friend, who daily enjoys his glass or two 
of good wine, and would feel lost without his night-cap, 
and fondly believes that he is better for it. Because, 
my dear sir, if you will take the trouble to inquire for 
yourself, or if not, will accept my word for it, I will tell 
you that the physical harm done by alcohol so far 
overbalances the good which it does (which good can 
be obtained as satisfactorily from other and less dan- 
gerous agents) that if alcohol was unknown the univer- 360 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
sal health of the people of the world would be much 
better and the duration of life be much lengthened. 
Dr. Carpenter, the eminent physiologist of England, in 
the preface to his essay on Alcohol, says : “He (the 
author) cannot allow it (the essay) to go forth, how- 
ever, without expressing his conviction that while there 
are adequate medical reasons for abstinence from the 
habitual use of even a moderate quantity of alcoholic 
liquors, there are also strong moral grounds for absti- 
nence from that occasional use of them which is too 
frequently thought to be requisite for social enjoyment, 
and to form an essential part of the rites of hospitality. 
The experience of every practitioner must bring the 
terrible results of intemperance frequently before his 
eyes; but while he is thus rendered familiar with its 
consequences as regards individuals, few, save those 
who have expressly inquired into the subject, have any 
idea of the extent of the social evils resulting from it, 
or of the degree in which they press upon every mem- 
ber of the community. The author believes that he is 
justified in the assertion that among those who have 
thus inquired there is but one opinion as to the fact 
that of all the causes which are at present conspiring 
to degrade the physical, moral and intellectual condi- 
tion of the mass of the people, there is not one to be 
compared in potency with the abuse of alcoholic 
liquors ; and that if this could be done away with, the 
removal of all other causes would be immeasureably 
promoted.” Further on, the same author says: 
“ Nothing short of total abstinence can prevent the con- 
tinuance in the rising generation of the terrible evils 
which we have at present to deplore.” The same dis- VERDICT OF PHYSICIANS. 
361 
tinguished gentleman, in concluding his preface, states 
that the following certificate has been signed by up- 
ward of two thousand physicians, practicing among 
all classes of society, from the highest to the lowest:— 
“We, the undersigned, are of opinion— 
“ i. That a very large proportion of human misery, 
including poverty, disease and crime, is induced by the 
use of alcoholic or fermented liquors as beverages. 
“ 2. That the most perfect health is compatible with 
total abstinence from all such intoxicating beverages, 
whether in the form of ardent spirits, or as wine, beer, 
ale, porter, cider, etc., etc. 
“ 3. That persons accustomed to such drinks may, 
with perfect safety, discontinue them entirely, either at 
once or gradually after a short time. 
“4. That total and universal abstinence from alcoholic 
beverages of all sorts would greatly contribute to the 
health, the prosperity, the morality and the happiness 
of the human race.” 
I know that many of you are prepared to doubt all 
this, but before I have finished this chapter, I will tell 
you some things (which you may or may not already 
know), which, causing you to meditate on the subject, 
will finally convince you that I am right. 
Most non-professional persons only see the ill effects 
of indulgence in alcohol when a man dies of delirium 
tremens, or is rendered insane, or in some way dis- 
graced by excessive indulgence in it. They do not 
realize, for they do not know, as the physician does, 
what a hydra-headed monster it is, and how infinitely 
numerous are the ramifications of its effects throughout 
the system. I can safely say that thousands die annu- 362 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
ally, before their time, sooner than necessary, indirectly 
from the use of alcohol, and no one, outside of the 
doctor, realizes it, attributing their deaths to natural 
causes. True enough, they do die of natural causes, 
so called, but these natural causes are oftentimes 
produced by the use of alcohol, and if the unfor- 
tunate individual had let it alone, he would, according 
to all scientific laws and experience, have lived a longer 
life. It was ascertained that during the year 1876 one- 
tenth of the entire mortality in England resulted from 
alcoholic excess.* Before detailing its evil effects, let 
me for a moment classify alcohol and put it where it 
belongs. 
In small doses alcohol is a general stimulant, and in 
large quantities or frequently repeated smaller ones, this 
stimulating effect soon gives way to one of depression, 
while, if the quantity be sufficiently large, a condition 
of stupor is produced, from which it is impossible to 
arouse the victim, until the effects of the alcohol have 
worn off by its removal from the system. The condi- 
tion of drunkenness in all its stages is that of poison- 
ing. Now, do you know, or has it ever occurred to 
you, that the effects of the dangerous drugs, chloroform, 
ether and opium, are precisely the same. They are all, at 
first, stimulants, and subsequently sedatives. Now, for 
one minute, ask yourself if you would not consider a 
man a fit subject for a lunatic asylum, who would make 
a practice of daily drinking a certain quantity of these 
dangerous drugs. Their poisonous effects on his sys- 
tem and their power of shortening life are no greater 
than alcohol, when taken in proportionate quantities. 
* Healthy Life and Healthy Homes.—Wilson. EFFECT OF ALCOHOL ON THE STOMACH. 
363 
Nearly all of us turn with horror from the occasional 
man, whom we hear has sunk so low as to drink alco- 
hol in its pure state, when he cannot obtain whisky; 
and yet the only advantage which I can see that 
alcoholic liquors possess over opium, chloroform, ether 
or pure alcohol, lies in the fact that in process of 
manufacture they have been rendered more palatable. 
Would we eat rotten beef, rendered palatable in cook- 
ing, if we knew it to be rotten ? So let us put alcohol 
where it belongs, on the druggist’s shelf, in a blue 
bottle, alongside of chloroform and ether, and label it 
poison, to be sold only on physicians’ prescription, and 
go on to the business of this chapter, the effects, good 
and bad, of alcohol. 
Let us start where alcohol begins its journey, and 
follow it from the mouth into the stomach; what does 
it do there? You all know, who have used it, that 
alcohol is irritating; it bites the mouth and throat; it 
does precisely the same thing with the delicate coating 
of the stomach; like mustard applied to the skin, it 
causes an extra amount of blood to flow into the ves- 
sels of the lining of the stomach; and it is this excess 
of blood that causes the sensation of warmth in the 
stomach produced by drinking a glass of spirits. 
All through this work I am trying to impress upon 
you the important fact that any kind of excess is in- 
jurious, so this excessive amount of blood in your 
stomach will work you harm. At first, this condition 
is only temporary, but by repeated use of the agent a 
chronic condition of engorgement is set up; that is to 
say, there is always too much blood in the walls of the 
stomach. This irritation also causes the gastric juice 364 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
(which is the chemical agent provided by the walls of 
the stomach to dissolve and digest our food) to be 
poured into the cavity of the stomach in excessive 
quantity (excess again, mind you), and a balance of 
this juice remaining in the stomach after all the food 
has been digested, and being idle, looks around for 
something to do, and actually turns upon the coats of 
the stomach and irritates and injures them. Again, it 
is a well-established physiological fact, and one which 
common sense will make apparent to all, that when 
vessels are filled to their utmost extent, they are inca- 
pable of holding any more, hence, these vessels in the 
walls of the stomach, which, properly acting, should 
take up the products of digestion and carry them to 
nourish the system at large, are so engorged with 
blood as to be unable to do so, when, as a natural 
consequence, a large portion of that which was in- 
tended to repair the wear and tear of our bodies is 
unable to get inside of us, and much valuable nourish- 
ment is thus unwillingly forced out of our stomachs 
and wasted. Let me warn you that your feelings are 
no indication of the amount of damage done to the 
stomach, as the following interesting case will demon- 
strate :— 
Some years ago a man called Alexis St. Martin re- 
ceived an injury to his abdomen, which resulted in a 
permanent opening from the exterior of the body to his 
stomach, by means of which all the phenomena occur- 
ring in that organ could be observed by an outsider. 
Dr. Beaumont has put on record that after St. Martin 
had freely used ardent spirits for eight or ten days, he 
could perceive his stomach to be in a very unhealthy ACTION OF ALCOHOL ON THE BRAIN. 
365 
condition, the surface of it being red and spotted with 
ulcers, the gastric fluids were poor in quality and 
mixed with a thick, ropy, gluey material, while from 
the little ulcers a foul matter, mixed with blood, resem- 
bling that which passes from the bowels in dysentery, 
was given out. And yet, he notes that “ St. Martin 
complains of no pain, nor shows symptoms of general in- 
disposition ; says he feels well, and has a good appetite.” 
He adds that “ the free use of ardent spirits, wine, beer, 
or any intoxicating liquor, when continued for some days, 
has invariably produced these morbid changes." 
Stop a minute and reflect what alcohol has already 
done, before it has fairly entered your system, because 
your stomach, being but a prolongation of your mouth 
and throat, is really on the outside of your body proper. 
Having done all the harm it could in the stomach, the 
alcohol is absorbed from this organ and fairly starts on 
its journey of destruction. 
Almost with the rapidity of lightning it rushes to the 
brain, for which organ it seems to have a peculiar love, 
like the affection of a false friend, who seeks your com- 
pany but to do you harm. Most of its effects on this 
organ are so well known to all that it is unnecessary 
for me to detail them; I will, however, tell you of a 
few, about which, most likely, you are ignorant. Many 
persons die of apoplexy. Apoplexy is a rupture or 
giving way of a blood vessel in the brain, allowing the 
escape of blood into the tissue of this organ. It will 
seem very plain when I tell you that this rupture oc- 
curs at a point in a vessel where it is abnormally weak, 
hence unable to withstand the pressure of the current 
of blood forced against it by the powerfully acting 366 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
heart. It will appear equally clear, when I tell you 
that the constant and long continued use of alcohol 
causes an excessive development and retention of fat 
in the system, and that particles of this fat, carried 
through the system and deposited in the walls of the 
blood vessels of the brain, taking the place of the 
naturally strong and resisting wall, will render it weak. 
So, you see one of the natural causes of death account- 
ed for by alcohol. I do not mean that all cases of 
apoplexy are due to the use of alcohol, not by any 
means, but many of them are. 
Again, alcohol is, as I have said, at first stimulating 
to the brain; it causes an excess of blood to flow into 
it, and by constant repetition the vessels become per- 
manently enlarged, exerting an injurious pressure on 
the brain tissue and interfering with its functions. 
When the stupor comes on, the vessels are filled with 
a dark, unhealthy and poisoned blood, and so this most 
important organ receives poisoned food. You must 
remember that all your tissues and organs are fed 
from the blood. When the pathologist wishes to pre- 
serve a brain for future investigation, he places it in 
alcohol, which has the effect of hardening it, and when 
death occurs from alcoholic poisoning, the substance 
of the brain is usually white and firm, as though it had 
been preserved in alcohol. Now, reasoning from these 
facts, can any one say that alcohol may not produce the 
same effect on the living brain; and in pity’s name, tell 
me, who can live and work properly with a tough and 
hardened brain ? 
Yet, more, it is a well established fact that all 
diseases of the brain which are not purely of a consti- WHAT ALCOHOL DOES IN THE LUNGS. 
367 
tutional character (that is to say, diseases in which the 
whole system is involved), are much more common 
among habitual drinkers than among the temperate. 
Every one has heard of, and even the greatest drink- 
ers have a terrible dread of, delirium tremens, but let 
me tell you that a form of mental disorder of the 
same character, only somewhat less in degree, marked 
by trembling of the hands and feet, and occasional illu- 
sions, will sometimes afflict the habitually moderate 
drinker, who has never in his life reached the point of 
intoxication. In this connection, I will tell you some- 
thing startling, that will make you open your eyes with 
wonder: Statistics, carefully kept, tell us, beyond 
doubt, that from to of the cases of insanity con- 
fined in asylums are caused directly or indirectly by 
intemperance. 
Let us go back to the stomach, and follow the alco- 
hol from there into the lungs, which it reaches by 
means of the circulation. The blood in circulating 
throughout the system not only gives nourishment to 
the various organs and tissues, but it also picks up the 
dead particles as it goes along, which are no longer of 
any use, and carries them to the different organs whose 
function it is to eliminate them from the blood and 
throw them out of the body. Prominent among these 
organs are the lungs. The blood charged with dead 
material rushes into them, where it is purified, as it 
were, by fire ; the oxygen in the air which we take into 
our lungs causing a combustion or burning to take 
place (by the union of the oxygen with the carbon of 
the dead tissue) which removes from the blood many 
of its dead and decayed elements (which are thrown 368 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
out in expiration) and renders it once more pure and 
fit to start again on its journey of nourishment. Sup- 
pose this blood, when passing through the walls of the 
stomach, has taken up a quantity of alcohol and car- 
ries it into the lungs ; see what will occur : Alcohol 
loves oxygen ; it greedily rushes forward and seizes it 
all, which it appropriates to its own uses; so you can 
anticipate what now happens. The decayed tissue in 
the blood finding no oxygen to remove it, must remain 
where it is, hence the poor blood leaves the lungs as 
impure and poisoned as it came, and goes its weary 
rounds again, carrying poisoned blood to all the or- 
gans of the body, and contaminating everything which 
it touches. Here really lies one of the most evil ef- 
fects of alcohol; any one can readily understand how 
utterly impossible it will be for his organs to hold 
together and properly perform their delicate and 
varied functions when nourished so poorly. We real- 
ize how necessary it is to eat plenty of nourishing food 
to sustain life, but we do not stop to think that this food 
which we take is rendered unfit to fulfill its mission in 
the blood by the presence of this contaminating alco- 
hol. To realize what I have said, notice how soon the 
smell of alcohol can be detected in the breath after it 
has been taken into an empty stomach (the vessels 
absorb more rapidly when the stomach is empty), thus 
showing its presence in the lungs, while its great affin- 
ity for the oxygen is due to the fact that it is very rich 
in carbon, and that these two elements have a great 
attraction for each other. 
Going back again to the stomach, our starting point, 
let us follow alcohol from there into the liver, that large EFFECT OF ALCOHOL ON THE LIVER. 
369 
and important organ. Dr. Carpenter, already quoted, 
says, “ That habitual excess in the use of alcoholic liquors 
must have a direct tendency to produce certain diseases of 
the liver, will be questioned by no one who considers their 
mode of introduction into the system, and their mfluence 
on the condition of the blood!' At first (as everywhere 
else), alcohol causes a congestion, an excess of blood 
in the liver. This is subsequently followed by a con- 
traction, a diminution in size and an alteration of its 
structure. What are the results? They are obvious. 
The liver is unable to remove its quota of useless ele- 
ments from the blood, while the poor blood is obliged 
to retain still more poison. It is one of the functions 
of the liver to remove from the blood some of the 
same ingredients which are thrown out in expiration 
from the lungs; now, as I have shown you, the lungs 
cannot act properly when alcohol contaminates them, so, 
extra work is thrown upon the liver, which eventually 
becomes fatigued, from over-exertion, and succumbs 
to disease. The liver contracting down on the large 
blood vessels that circulate through it, interferes with 
the free passage of that fluid, and damming jt up, so to 
speak, exerting a backward pressure, and being opposed 
by the onward pressure of the heart’s action, between 
the two opposing forces the watery constituents of the 
blood are forced slowly out through the porous walls 
of the vessels, and we have in time abdominal dropsy, 
an accumulation of water in the cavity of the belly. An- 
other natural cause of death accounted for by alcohol. 
Still further, this excessive retention of fat, to which I 
have referred, will cause more trouble. Carried in 
the circulation, it seeks a place to rest; a par- 370 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
tide settles in the strong, muscular wall of the heart, 
then another, and another, until, ultimately, we have a 
fatty heart, which, being much weakened by the pres- 
ence of this poor substitute for its former strong and 
stout muscular fibre, becomes unable to effectually resist 
the backward pressure of the mass of blood which it en- 
deavors to force out of its cavities (a pressure very great 
indeed), and all of a sudden it ruptures or gives way, 
in some weak spot, just as the vessel in the brain does, 
and instant death ensues. Or we may have the slower 
death produced so often by fatty degeneration of the 
heart. Still further, when by the use of alcohol we 
cause the retention of too much fat in the system, this 
fat must deposit somewhere. Hence, we can and do 
have at times, fatty degeneration of any or every 
organ in the body. Fatty degeneration of an organ, 
of which you hear so much, means nothing more nor 
less than the substitution of fat for the normal tissue 
of an organ, and since it is requisite for each organ to 
possess its own peculiar tissue in order that it may 
perform its own peculiar function, and since fat cannot 
perform any of these functions, does it not seem as 
plain and clear as daylight, that when, instead of its 
natural tissue, fat enters too largely into the composition 
of an organ, such organ cannot properly and fully do 
its duty, and that, necessarily, life must be shortened, 
since its prolongation is dependent upon the integrity 
not of one or two, but of all the organs. 
The effects of alcohol on the nervous system are 
all too manifest, in the trembling of the drunkard and 
the unsteady arm and hand of the moderate drinker. 
What does it do here ? As elsewhere, it congests the INSIDIOUS EFFECTS OF ALCOHOL. 
371 
nervous centres, causes them to receive poor nourish- 
ment, probably hardens their tissue, and hence inter- 
feres with their proper functions. Humboldt has 
proved, by experiment, that when a nerve is immersed 
in alcohol, its excitability, that is to say, its life, was at 
first increased, but if left for some time in this fluid, it 
was completely exhausted. 
I might go on indefinitely, as long as the list of 
human organs would last, and point out to you the bad 
effects of alcohol on each of them. But do you not think 
I have said enough to show you that the use of this 
article is, to say the least, dangerous, if all I have said 
about it be true, and for the truth of my statements I 
can refer you, without fear of contradiction, to any 
intelligent physician. 
Of course, I realize, as well as any one, the useless- 
ness of writing against the use of alcohol. From all 
time the nations of the world have thirsted for some 
artificial stimulus, and have not rested till they found 
it; if not alcohol, something else. Still this is no argu- 
ment in its favor. Its antiquity is no recommendation 
for it. Sin is very ancient, yet it is not wholesome. 
It is the duty of our profession to point out to our 
fellow creatures what they ought and what they ought 
not to do, in order that they may possess life, health, 
and consequently happiness on this earth; when we do 
this, and use all the moral suasion of which we are 
capable, our mission has been fulfilled. The accom- 
plishment of our indications must rest with the indi- 
vidual, since no laws or physical force seem capable of 
making human nature do what it does not want to do. 
How often do you hear a man say, “ I do not drink 372 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
whisky. I confine myself to beer!' Deluded individual, 
let me tell you that you make a distinction with hardly 
a difference, and that only a difference of quantity and 
not of kind. The deleterious agent, alcohol, exists in 
beer as well as in whisky, and if you drink enough of it 
you will take into your system just as much alcohol. 
Men who confine themselves to the moderate use of 
beer and malt liquors seem to enjoy exceptionally good 
health and to be capable of great physical exertion ; 
but this is really only a seeming; watch them for a time, 
and you will find that they break down prematurely, 
and experience proves that they succumb much more 
readily to diseases of an inflammatory nature, because 
the tone of the system has been so lowered that they 
lack vital strength to withstand them. As an illustra- 
tion of this fact, let me quote from Dr. Carpenter 
(page 67): “ The nurses in the cholera hospital at 
Manchester were at first worked six hours (during an 
epidemic), and allowed to go home the other six, and 
the mortality was so great among them that there were 
fears of the failure of the supply. It was found, how- 
ever, that they were much given to alcoholic potations 
during their leisure hours ; and they were therefore 
confined to the hospital, and debarred from obtaining 
more than a small allowance of alcoholic drink, after 
which not a single fresh case occurred among them!' 
The Creator of the world has given us a most 
beautiful place to reside in, and has surrounded us 
with numerous sources of pleasure and amusement. 
At the same time, as though to remind us that un- 
alloyed happiness is not intended for us here, and to 
make us aspire to a higher existence, he has placed or BEWARE OF THE FIRST GLASS. 
373 
permitted to exist among us certain evils, which, con- 
tinually before us, make us yearn for a higher and a 
purer life, where we fondly hope they will be unknown. 
Prominently among these evils I would place alcohol. 
Reasoning from the experience of past centuries, I am 
forced to think that as long as human life lasts, so long 
will our complete happiness be interfered with by the 
existence of alcohol or some similar poison. Wise 
legislation, moral suasion and example, may serve, as 
it no doubt does, to keep its use within certain bounds, 
but will never entirely eradicate it. Hence, I deem it 
wise, in the remaining portion of this chapter, to call 
medical research and experience to my aid in pointing 
out to you the least hurtful use of alcohol. 
In the first place, let me caution young persons to 
beware of the first glass. Like all the unnecessary 
things in this world, before we use alcohol we care but 
little or nothing for it; but with most persons the first 
drink creates a thirst for the second, and in a short 
time, probably the most difficult habit to break becomes 
established. Therefore, young persons, beware, and 
think well before you take the first drop. Many young 
men, but little more than boys, seem to think that it 
makes men of them to drink, and so they commence 
this habit, through a false idea of manliness, when they 
really have no desire for it. Let them remember that 
in many cases, instead of making men it makes beasts 
and fools of them. Occasionally, but very rarely, I 
have heard men advanced into the middle stage of 
life declare that they had never tasted alcohol in their 
lives. It was a pleasure to note with what an expres- 
sion of pride and self-contentment they made this state- 374 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
ment; and they had reason to congratulate themselves, 
for they had avoided an evil that but few men in a mil- 
lion ever escape. 
Think, young man, when at seventeen you are 
tempted to take your first glass of spirits, how proud 
and happy you will feel at forty, if you can truthfully 
deny all knowledge of the taste of alcohol. 
Let me warn you all, but especially young men, 
against a disease of which I imagine you have never 
heard, namely Dipsomania or Oinomania. This dis- 
ease, according to Dr. Hutchinson, is characterized by 
an irresistible propensity to swallow stimulants, in 
enormous doses, whenever and wherever they can be 
found. When you take your first drink, you have 
planted the seed of this terrible disease, and in many 
cases, unless its fertility is soon destroyed, it will ger- 
minate and develop into a well marked case of the 
disease, defying all the efforts of yourself and your 
friends to overcome it, and terminating only with your 
life. Many of you no doubt will immediately be able 
to recall an instance of this disease among your friends 
or acquaintances. Of all diseases, it is probably the 
most terrible, not only destroying the body, but doom- 
ing the mind to a living death while life lasts. The 
pangs of conscience and the physical sufferings of the 
body during the intervals of self-consciousness surely 
must equal the tortures of the damned ; to say nothing 
of the business and domestic misfortunes this life of 
semi-imbecility must entail. Now, young men, a word 
more to you, about which let me beg you to meditate. I 
will not say much on this subject, only give you a few 
facts to think over; if you have intelligence and good AVOID ALCOHOL WHEN YOUNG. 
375 
judgment, and desire to do right, it will cause you to 
think, and that I am sure will be sufficient; if you have 
not, all the eloquence of Demosthenes would not move 
you. 
* Plutarch says, “ One drunkard begets another 
and Aristotle adds, “Drunken women bring forth chil- 
dren like unto themselves.” Dr. Howe, in a report to 
the legislature of Massachusetts, says, “ The habits of 
the parents of joo of the idiots were learned, and 145, 
or nearly one-half are reported to be known as 
habitual drunkards'.' Again, “ The parents of case 
No. 62 were drunkards, and had seven idiotic 
children.” These facts I believe to be as true as 
gospel. No one who has passed a period in the 
lying-in wards of a large municipal hospital, where 
many of the patients come from the very lowest grades 
of society, and the offspring are mainly the results of 
intemperance and vice, will for an instant question 
them. Remember, that many of you will in all proba- 
bility become fathers in course of time, and as you 
read, study by heart, and firmly fix in your minds, and 
keep ever before you, the four dismal facts I have 
given you, and let their knowledge act as a lever to 
root out of your system the seed of that terrible disease 
I have told you about. Physically, this poison is more 
particularly injurious to the young and growing organ- 
ism, for the evident reason that the body, when in pro- 
cess of formation and development, is more susceptible 
to impressions of all kinds, good or bad, than when, 
further advanced in life, it becomes more settled. 
Therefore, I would desire in an especial manner to 
* Carpenter on Alcoholic Liquors, page 49. 376 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
prohibit the use of alcohol before the age of twenty- 
five years. If young persons will drink, I would urge 
them to confine themselves to beer, ale and light wines, 
in moderate quantity, letting the more ardent spirits, 
brandy, whisky, gin, and the like, absolutely alone. 
They will thus suffer the minimum of harm. 
Let me condemn in the strongest terms the habit so 
common among a certain class of Germans, of giving 
beer to their little children; it may make them fat and 
rosy, and for the time apparently healthy, but in the 
long run it will redound to their physical injury, to say 
nothing of the evil effects of inculcating a taste for it. 
We will now for a moment study the chemical effects 
of alcohol on the constituents of the blood itself. An 
ingredient called fibrin, which is very essential to the 
formation of healthy tissue, is so affected by alcohol as 
to lessen its coagulability, its ability to become hard 
and firm, hence it cannot take its proper place in its 
normal condition in the tissues. To make this famil- 
iar, notice how much slower a wound heals in an 
intemperate man than in one who does not use alco- 
hol. This is due to the lowered tone of the fibrin and 
other elements of the blood. The blood contains an 
infinite number of small disks, called red corpuscles, 
which play an important part in nutrition ; now, when 
touched by alcohol, they shrink and shrivel up, while 
some of their contents ooze out; so you can see that 
they must be unfit to perform their intended duty in 
the body. Still further: the different dead and worth- 
less particles which should have been discarded by the 
different organs if they had acted properly, remaining 
in the blood, finally accumulate in such immense EFFECTS OF ALCOHOL ON THE BLOOD. 
377 
quantities, that it becomes almost a mechanical neces- 
sity for them to get out of it in some manner, so they 
force their way through the walls of the blood vessels 
into the muscles and joints, and we have the swellings 
and tortures of rheumatism and gout. Finally, a most 
important function of the blood is interfered with. 
Nothing occurs in this world by chance, there is a 
cause for everything. We have in our bodies what 
are called involuntary muscles, that is to say, muscles 
which act independently of the will, when we sleep as 
well as when we are awake, and over which we have 
no control. The heart is the best illustration of this, 
constantly and regularly contracting and relaxing, only 
to contract again; our will has not the slightest control 
over it, though its action is affected by emotions or 
other nervous influences. There are many other mus- 
cles concerned in carrying on the business of life, 
which are similar to the heart in this respect. Now, 
these muscles must receive their power to move, their 
life,from some source; they cannot move of themselves. 
This comes from the central office, the brain and nervous 
centres, which originate the power and distribute it to 
the various muscles, through the agency of the human 
telegraph wires, the nerves. Now, the nervous centres 
must, in the first place, receive their power of origin- 
ating before they can issue their commands. This power 
they receive from the oxygen in the blood; so you 
anticipate me, that if alcohol deprives the blood of its 
oxygen, the nervous centres not receiving their proper 
incentive to action, must execute their work but poorly. 
It is a mistake, as many suppose, that alcohol aug- 
ments the powers of the system to withstand the 378 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
evil effects of heat and cold and other depressing 
influences; by blunting the powers of perception, it 
makes us think that we are less affected by these dele- 
terious agents, while in reality (all medical research 
and experience proven this), by lowering the tone of 
the general system, it allows them to do greater harm. 
To be just, I must admit that the combination of alco- 
hol with oxygen, about which I have told you, does 
produce a great amount of heat, more, in fact, than is 
produced by the natural process, just as the burning 
of an alcohol lamp will give more heat than the com- 
bustion of oil will. Hence, alcohol may prove bene- 
ficial to tide over a short period of excessive cold, when 
a sufficient amount of heat-producing food cannot be 
had, but its continued use for this purpose can only do 
harm. 
Some persons consider small doses of alcohol a 
good tonic; such an opinion is erroneously based on a 
temporary benefit derived from its use. A tonic is 
something that increases the general tone of the sys- 
tem ; now, alcohol, by its stimulating power, seems to 
do this, while in reality it is vitiating the system, as evi- 
denced in the subsequent depression. Some persons, 
with a leaning toward fatalism, will likely contend that 
the fact of the desire for alcohol being so universal is 
argument in favor of its beneficial effects, when pro- 
perly used. Is not this desire rather one of the temp- 
tations which the Almighty Creator has allowed to be 
placed before us. When some persons ascend a great 
height they feel an almost irresistible desire to throw 
themselves down ; this desire is no indication that it 
would be well for them to do so. ALCOHOL NEVER CONDUCES TO HEALTH. 
379 
Owing to want of space, I must confine myself to 
the statement that I can produce countless instances, 
both of individuals and of large bodies of men, who 
have clearly demonstrated their ability to perform 
great physical labor in a high temperature with less 
exhaustion and detriment to health when they did not, 
than when they did, use alcohol. 
It has been determined by much observation that the 
amount of alcohol which can be daily consumed by the 
average man without apparent (mind you, appare7it) 
detriment must not exceed 1 y2 ounces. This is equiv- 
alent to about— 
Weak beer, ----- - - pints. 
Ale, “ 
Claret, % “ 
Sherry or port, less than - - - - - % " 
Spirituous liquors, 3 ounces. 
Port, sherry and Madeira are very apt to disorder 
digestion and predispose to or excite gout. Be care- 
ful to avoid acidity in beer. A physician of large ex- 
perience has remarked that, * “ There is no more fruit- 
ful source of gout, rheumatism, diseased heart, dropsy, 
and the consequent early death of the robust working 
man, than this beer, just on the turn and ready to be- 
come thick vinegar in the stomach.” 
I have now told you plainly what alcohol can, and in 
the majority of cases will, do to the body of man. It rests 
with each individual to decide whether or not he will 
incur this risk. Of course, alcohol will be more inju- 
rious to some than to others; therefore, in this, as in 
other questions, every man must be a law unto himself. 
I can give you the absolute rules that guide the action 
* Healthy Life.—Wilson; page 150. 380 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
of alcohol on the body, but no one can tell just how 
much or how little any particular individual will be 
affected, except by experience of such particular case. 
But I can tell you, beyond any possibility of doubt, 
that there never has and never will be a perfectly 
healthy man whose life has been prolonged or whose 
health has been improved by the use of alcohol. 
When there are two sides to a question, it is but just 
that they should both be presented, and when I find 
some good in alcohol, in the estimation of so high an 
authority as Dr. H. C. Wood, Professor of Materia 
Medica in the University of Pennsylvania, it behooves 
me to give it to you. Dr. Wood says, “ That in many 
cases of illness, and in those periods of life when by 
reason of age the body waxes weak, alcohol is pos- 
sessed of great virtues.” He believes the moderate 
employment of stimulants is very useful to individuals 
past the age of sixty years. In the later years of life 
even the narcotic influence of alcohol is of great value, 
easing the restlessness due to slight discomforts, and 
the suffering of nerve failure incident to failing vitality. 
In chronic diseases, malt liquors have both their ad- 
vantages and disadvantages. They represent food and 
drink, are less apt to be abused than are stronger 
liquids, and by virtue of their bitterness, have some 
tonic properties. The tendency to grossness seen in 
beer drinkers undoubtedly largely depends upon the 
solid constituents of the beer which is taken, and seems 
to indicate the proper medical use of malt liquors, viz.: 
that they are especially to be employed in wasting 
diseases, i. e., where there is a tendency to the loss of 
the bodily fat. As the malt liquors contain nutritive OPINIONS ABOUT ALCOHOL. 
381 
material, it is less necessary to give food with them than 
it is with whisky or wines. 
In conclusion, I will give you the opinions of some 
eminent medical men on the use of alcohol. 
Dr. N. S. Davis, the famous physician of Chicago, 
says: “ Alcohol is an ancesthetic” (an agent calcula- 
ted to produce unconsciousness), “directly diminishing 
nervous sensibility, and lessening the natural changes 
constituting nutrition and waste, and as it produces 
these effects in proportion to the quantity taken, it 
cannot but be more or less injurious, when taken in any 
quantity whatsoever, by persons in health. I think 
actual investigation has fully shown that both tobacco 
and alcohol, when habitually used, even in moderation, 
do lessen both mental and physical energy, and shorten 
the duration of life.” 
Dr. Roswell Park, of the same city, says, “ I think the 
greatest risk in the use of either” (tobacco or alcohol), 
“ is that he who indulges will be led rather to increase 
than decrease the daily allowance, and thus to use 
them immoderately. In cases where constitutions 
seem intolerant, I think they do positive harm. I can 
conceive of no permanent benefit to health to be 
obtained by use of either of the ch'ugs. On the con- 
trary, I consider that the effort to establish tolerance 
is, for the time being, a tax on the health. It is only in 
cases of special privation or hardship that I think a 
person needs alcohol, and tobacco one never needs, as 
proved by the fact that its first effects on one unac- 
customed to it are poisonous. In general terms, while 
I cannot practice without using alcohol, considering it 
sometimes as a positive food, and again as a medicinal 382 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
agent, I think any one in health can always do just as 
well without either of the drugs as he possibly can 
with them.” 
Dr. R. L. Rea says “ Many persons live to extreme 
age and use both, but where they are healthy, it is in 
spite of and not because of the use of either. Alcohol I 
believe to be a valuable medicine, but I rarely pre- 
scribe it, especially for men, for fear of replacing the 
disease by a worse one.” 
Dr. J. S. Jewell, and Dr. Bannister, of Chicago, say: 
“The moderate use of alcohol is probably not injurious 
to many healthy persons. The danger is in the diffi- 
culty of preserving moderation, in the true sense, and 
this is sufficiently great to make total abstinence the 
only perfectly safe rule. We have seen persons who 
seemed to be better for a little alcohol at meals or in 
the evening, but we could not call them healthy per- 
sons ; in every case it was a sort of medicine. The 
habit of using either tobacco or alcohol is apt to 
become intensified, and moderation so easily and im- 
perceptibly passes into the immoderate use, that we 
think medical advice ought to be against these agents. 
The fact that some cases are benefited by alcohol is 
no reason for advising its habitual use, even in 
moderation.” 
I could go on indefinitely, giving you opinions of the 
same tenor, which I have received from medical men, but 
they would be tiresome. These few will suffice, when 
I tell you that they all express virtually the same views. 
While they recognize that alcohol may, in some cases, 
prove beneficial, yet they all claim that it proves injuri- 
ous in such a large majority of cases, and that its use is HOW TO BREAK THE ALCOHOL HABIT. 
383 
so apt to grow imperceptibly into abuse, that they uni- 
versally advise against its indulgence in health at all. 
HOW TO BREAK THE ALCOHOL HABIT. 
There will be many of my readers, no doubt, who 
will, after perusing- this chapter, be anxious to give up 
the use of alcohol, yet will fear that because they have 
indulged in it for many years it will be injurious for 
them to do so. For the comfort of such, I will say, 
remember what Dr. Carpenter has been quoted to 
have said, in the early part of this chapter. 
Believe me, that even the most inveterate drunkards 
can absolutely abandon the use of alcohol, without 
detriment to health. They will have terrible feelings 
for awhile, but their strength of will must be brought 
into play, to bridge over this terrible time until the 
forces of nature have once more asserted their sway 
and enabled their various organs to perform their duty, 
without the aid of artificial stimulants. 
I once knew a gentleman who for years was a very 
heavy drinker. On his way home from business, every 
evening, for more than twenty years, he was in the 
habit of stopping in taverns with friends, and managed 
to get drunk every night before he reached home. 
Getting up in the morning, feeling terribly, he would 
consume several cocktails before he was fit for any- 
thing. 
Finally, one morning, after he had been particularly 
drunk the night before, he stopped at one of his usual 
haunts on the way down town, and ordered a very 
strong cocktail; as he was about to drink it, the thought 
came suddenly into his mind: “ I have ruined my life 
for twenty years with alcohol. I will never drink an- 384 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
other drop'.' Going home, he sent for his brother-in- 
law, who was a physician, and told him that he had 
made up his mind to renounce alcohol forever, and 
wanted some medicine to settle his nerves. The doc- 
tor laughed at him, and said, “ Why! you will die with- 
out liquor; ” “all right,” was the reply, “If I do, I will 
die sober.” This man told me that for two or three 
months his life was a torture to him; still, he adhered 
to his resolution. By degrees he commenced to feel 
all right, and now for more than twelve years he has 
not tasted liquor, neither does he crave it. What he 
has done, all can do. 
Make up your mind that you will not drink. Use the 
power of will the Almighty has given you, and allow 
no temptation to swerve you from your purpose. Take 
my word for it, you will all enjoy better health in the 
long run, and have much more pleasure in life, without, 
than with the use of alcohol. 
There can be no half-way business about breaking 
the alcohol habit. The idea of cutting down, of gradu- 
ally reducing the quantity used, has been tried over and 
over again, and has, in the majority of cases, only 
resulted in failure, and in a consequent increase of 
quantity used, on account of the spirit of desperation, 
born of repeated failures. 
So much has been written on alcohol; its evils have 
been so repeatedly pointed out, and yet it is §o gener- 
ally used, that I fear my arguments and words will 
carry but little weight. Therefore, I will not longer 
weary you. I have told you plainly what alcohol will 
do; you must decide for yourself whether or not, 
knowing these facts, you will use it. A SAD ILLUSTRATION. 
385 
But one more thing I must tell you again. 
If you decide to give up the use of this agent, after 
having used it freely for years, believe me there is 
nothing to be gained by temporizing. Make up your 
mind not to drink anything, and stick faithfully to your 
resolution. 
I cannot help giving you the following case, which 
I quote from the Philadelphia Tunes, March 11 th, 
1882. My excuse for giving the name is that all the 
Philadelphia papers gave it publicity, and my reason 
for giving the case is that it offers the most potent 
argument for abstinence that I have ever read:— 
A BRIGHT CAREER CLOSED. 
One of General Sherman's Old Officers Falls a Victim of Intemperance. 
“All that was mortal of General William W. Wright, 
a noted civil engineer, lay cold and still in Moyamen- 
sing Prison yesterday. The man had once been a 
hero; men had marched to death and victory under 
his gallant leadership. Yesterday the sun, streaming 
at uncertain intervals through the grated prison win- 
dows, fell upon the blotched and bloated features of a 
common drunkard. This man, who had fought side by 
side with Sherman, on the great march to the sea, died 
alone, in a prison cell, Thursday night. Rum had done 
an awful work. Wednesday night he was arrested at 
Third and Spruce streets, for lying drunk on the pave- 
ment. He was sent to Moyamensing Prison for 
twenty-four hours, by Magistrate List, but before he 
had served out the time he was found dead in his cell. 
“General Wright’s career was brilliant from the be- 
ginning. In 1848 he became connected, as civil engi- 386 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
neer, with the Pennsylvania Railroad Company, and 
did good service with the surveying party that ran the 
experimental lines over the Allegheny Mountains. In 
1849 he went over to the Turtle Creek division of 
the road, with headquarters at Greensburg. Leaving 
the employ of the company in 1854, he was ap- 
pointed revision engineer of the Honduras inter- 
oceanic railway survey, which was made by John C. 
Trautwine in 1857. After remaining with Trautwine 
until the surveys were completed, he traveled about 
the world until the breaking out of the war of the Re- 
bellion, during a part of which he served as chief of 
the engineering corps of the Army of the Potomac, 
with the rank of general. He was a particular friend 
of General Sherman, who admired his dash and fine 
executive ability. In Sherman’s march to the sea 
General Wright had command of a large force of men 
detailed for pioneer duty, and was often brought into 
close contact with guerillas and portions of the Con- 
federate armies. With the Army of the Potomac Ae 
had special charge of the construction and protection 
of burned bridges, a work for which, by reason of his 
dashing bravery, he was especially well fitted. At the 
close of the war he built several large bridges and 
various public works. He had charge of the plans and 
construction of the Kansas and Missouri bridge at 
Leavenworth, and the bridge at Atchison, Kansas. 
“Five years ago he was a candidate for Chief Engi- 
neer and Surveyor of the city, but was defeated by 
Samuel L. Smedley. He was connected with the De 
Lesseps party that visited the Isthmus of Panama, two 
years ago, being chosen by Count De Lesseps as the STORY OF A MURDERER. 
387 
American engineer of the expedition. When the 
party returned to New York it was announced that 
General Wright would make the principal address at 
a banquet given in honor of the canal scheme. When 
the time came for the address General Wright was not 
to be found. In the course of an hour word was 
brought to the banquet hall that the speaker of the 
evening was helpless, from intoxication. Since that 
time he had remained in obscurity, sinking lower and 
lower, by reason of his appetite for strong drink, until 
the end of the tragedy was reached, Thursday night.” 
Study this history by heart, and let it be your warn- 
ing against the seductive evils of intemperance. 
As a fitting companion to the case just related, I will 
furnish, in final conclusion, the following interesting 
case, which I extract from the Philadelphia Times, May 
21st, 1882 :— 
The Extraordinary Autobiography of a Condemned British Ruffian. 
A MURDERER’S STORY. 
“The English papers publish a long and curious 
statement made by one Thomas Fury, alias Wright, 
alias Cort, after being found guilty, at Durham assizes, 
of the willful murder of a woman of ill fame, named 
Maria Fitzsimmons, at Sunderland, in 1869. Sentenced 
to fifteen years’ penal servitude, for robbery and at- 
tempted murder, in Norwich, in 1879, he voluntarily 
accused himself of the murder of the woman Fitzsim- 
mons. He was put on his trial and found guilty. 
Fury manifested the keenest anxiety to be convicted, 
and received the sentence of death with the utmost sat- 
isfaction. His autobiographical statement is a psycho- 
logical curiosity, and not without public interest as a 388 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
contribution to the study of ‘ crime causes/ The fol- 
lowing extracts give the main part of the story. He 
says:— 
“ ‘ Although my past career, as both a thief and a 
liar, would not, under ordinary circumstances, entitle 
me to receive any credit in regard to my statements, 
yet as I now stand before you for the last time, as a 
dying, or rather a dead, man, I beg your attention to 
the few words I now address to you—not for my own 
benefit, but for your own. Every cause must have an 
effect, and every effect an antecedent cause, or series 
of causes. I stand before you now as the resultant of the 
forces of persuasion, example and compulsion. And 
Maria Fitzsimmons, whom I murdered thirteen years 
ago, was another of those terrific results. The injus- 
tice of the land-laws in Ireland caused my relations to 
join Ribbon-men, and leave their country; and then 
induced my mother to come to England to meet my 
father. Perhaps crime is hereditary in my case— 
another fact to strengthen Darwin’s and Huxley’s 
theories. I do not know, nor have I heard of, but one 
member on either side of our family, that was not 
strongly addicted to drinking. My father was a drunk- 
ard. My mother was forced to become one—held 
down by her nearest relatives while they poured rum 
down her throat until she promised to be sociable. As 
regards myself, I know that I was raving drunk before 
I was eight years old, and several times before I was 
ten years of age. One of the reasons for giving my- 
self up, is to get rid of that craving for drink, for which, 
in my case, at least, extinction is the only cure. I 
shall be quite reconciled to die a shameful and dishon- WHAT ALCOHOL LEADS TO. 
389 
orable death—in fact, feel happy—if by my fearful 
doom some, a few at the least, may be warned, by the 
dreadful example I have become, to avoid that habit 
while they have strength yet to resist it. 
“ ‘ I was early initiated into the accursed habit, and it 
was more fully developed during four years spent 
among seamen, who seem to think that drink is the 
summum bonum of human life. After this it was my 
fate to have to spend more than four years in prison. 
Upon my discharge, and obtaining another ship, I de- 
termined not to drink. Upon the mate offering me my 
share of beer I civilly declined it, receiving a storm of 
abuse in return, accompanied with an order to leave 
the ship and go ashore if I did not like to drink. 
Thirty miles from home, without a penny in my pocket, 
what was I to do ? I saw the good, the evil I had to 
follow. I drank the beer, was praised for being a man, 
and the result therefrom, as if human blood had been 
given to a tame tiger, was that drink was all that I 
lived for; for this only did I work; for it I neglected 
my duty to myself, my mother, and my employers ; for 
it I became again a thief, by using money entrusted to 
me by my shipmates; for, by and through it, I now 
stand before you as the murderer of a woman. 
“ ‘ It would only be a waste of time to detail all the 
other crimes I have been guilty of since February, 1869, 
while under the influence of drink; mostly crimes of 
violence. One of the effects of drink upon me is an 
irresistible desire to do injury, even though they may 
have given me no provocation. Once I threatened my 
mother with a knife, shame being the only cause of not 
executing the threat. I have been in prisons more 390 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
than thirteen years, extending over a period of eigh- 
teen years. During that time I have spoken to many 
hundreds of prisoners, and only met with one who had 
been an abstainer previous to his conviction. And if 
any of you have the slightest feeling of pity or commis- 
eration for that poor unfortunate woman whom I killed 
in my stupid, mad, drunken fury, and for others, not 
only of her class, but of every other class, let me beg 
of you who call yourselves Englishmen to try, by will, 
word, act and influence, to banish those habits, tastes 
and customs which are the sources of so much misery, 
vice and crime.’ ” PRECAUTIONS AGAINST DISEASE. 
391 
CHAPTER XV. 
HOW TO AVOID DISEASE. 
This whole book has been telling you how to avoid 
disease; because, since all who die young must die 
from some unnatural cause, and therefore from disease, 
so all who live to old age and naturally pass away must 
have, of necessity, avoided or escaped disease; there- 
fore, all advice that enables you to live long must neces- 
sarily teach you how to avoid disease. 
But there are some diseases that require special 
precautions in order that you may escape them, and it 
is of such that I now intend to write. If you will faith- 
fully carry out all the advice I have given, you will be 
very likely to escape the diseases produced by cold 
and change of climate, such as pneumonia, bronchitis, 
catarrh and the like. If you eat as you should and 
do not abuse alcoholic drinks, you will not suffer from 
inflammation of the stomach and bowels. If you will 
intelligently harden your baby, it will not be constantly 
catching cold on the slightest exposure. 
But in addition to this long list of diseases, nearly 
all of which are easily preventable, and are, in the very 
large majority of instances, directly the fault of the 
individual, we have a certain class, known to the physi- 
cian as zymotic, and to the public as contagious diseases, 
that are subject to different laws ; while they are pre- 
ventable, yet no individual effort can surely prevent 
them from attacking any man; they can only be held 392 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
in abeyance by the united and concerted action of the 
whole world. In this class, we have smallpox, diph- 
theria, yellow fever, scarlet fever, measles, typhoid 
fever, and all the so-called contagious diseases. They 
are called zymotic, because they are believed to be due 
to a process of fermentation in the blood. The poison- 
ous germs or elements of each particular disease are 
taken into the body in inspiration or through the pores 
of the skin, and finding in the blood suitable conditions, 
they ferment and give rise to the characteristic features 
of the disease. 
These germs have life, just as much so as the human 
body has; they possess the power of growth, develop- 
ment and reproduction, as the body does; and it is upon 
this very activity that their danger depends. Realizing 
this fact, you will be prepared to understand that when 
brought down to its original beginning or foundation, 
the art of or power to avoid contagious diseases rests 
upon either not allowing these poisonous germs to 
enter the body, or destroying their vitality, or so 
altering their nature, that they will be incapable of 
producing disease when they do enter. 
The first consideration is to be fulfilled by avoiding 
these germs. This can be accomplished only in one 
way, namely, by isolation. By this I mean keeping 
far away from these poisonous elements, and keeping 
them far away from you. Since they are derived from 
the bodies of those sick with the particular disease, it 
is evident, and you all now know, that you must avoid 
such persons; this every one knows, and I need not 
dilate upon it. Isolation is the first and most import- 
ant means of preventing the spread of contagious MALIGNANCY OF SCARLET FEVER. 
393 
diseases. The second consideration, that of destroy- 
ing their vitality or altering their nature, is a most 
important adjunct to isolation, and is to be accom- 
plished in one way only, namely, by disinfection. 
Disinfection really means alteration ; it means a pro- 
cess by which poisonous elements are deprived of their 
toxic properties, by which they are rendered harmless. 
If a man is about to stick a sword into a vital portion 
of your body, and some one strikes his weapon, so as 
to break it into pieces, he really disinfects it, because he 
renders it powerless to injure you. So, you can under- 
stand from this seemingly far-drawn simile, that disin- 
fectants are agents that possess the power of so altering 
the nature of poisonous elements that when they do 
enter the body they are powerless to do it harm. It 
matters not what the disease may be, the same process 
of disinfecting will be applicable to all. Some, of course, 
are more dangerous than others, and therefore, call for 
more caution, since the danger to life will be greater; as, 
for instance, a man will take more pains to avoid small- 
pox than he will to protect himself from scarlet fever ; 
but the same measures will be equally potent to pro- 
tect from all. And just here, a word of advice. It has 
been customary to consider scarlet fever as a trifling 
disease of childhood, to which all children are subject, 
and which parents usually consider nearly all children 
must have; therefore, looking upon it as a necessary 
evil, they are almost anxious for their little ones to 
have and be done with it, and they really congratulate 
themselves when it is over. How serious this error is, 
they are oftentimes called upon to realize in after life, 
when some grave and fatal disease, originating, as a 394 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
consequence of an attack in childhood, of scarlet fever, 
manifests itself. For myself, or my children, I would 
much rather have smallpox than scarlet fever. In the 
latter disease the death rate at the time is smaller than 
in the former; but when a man recovers from smallpox, 
in the majority of instances, he is well; but it is often 
very doubtful whether a child recovering from scarlet 
fever, or some other juvenile disease, has not implanted 
in his system the seeds of some chronic disease that 
will, in a few years, develop into a serious malady. 
When one is getting well from scarlet fever, the out- 
side skin peels off, leaving the under or true skin raw 
and unprotected; it is like the man who goes out on a 
cold day without the overcoat to which he has been 
accustomed; if great caution is not now exercised to 
prevent the cold air from coming into contact with this 
raw surface, the blood will be driven away from it, as I 
have already explained (because it is so very sensitive), 
to find a lodging in some of the internal organs, which 
it will congest and disease. A large number of the 
fatal cases of Bright’s disease of the kidney have ori- 
ginated from want of care after scarlet fever. I would 
not allow a child to leave the sick-room after this dis- 
ease for at least six weeks, unless I had the whole body 
so carefully wrapped that it would be absolutely im- 
possible for any cold air to touch it. I would also have 
a thermometer hanging in the room, and would keep 
the temperature as nearly uniform as the greatest care 
would allow. At this time, the child ought to be treated 
as a hot-house plant, and ought not to be allowed to 
resume its usual life until the new skin has entirely 
formed. As long as you notice any scales of skin DISINFECTION. 
395 
peeling off from the body, you can conclude that the 
reparative process is not yet complete, and that your 
child is still an invalid. 
To come down, now, to disinfection, which is the 
truest and surest way to prevent the spread of conta- 
gious diseases, I cannot possibly describe its modus 
operandi better than by quoting from the regulations 
of the Illinois State Board of Health, which have been 
published in the National Board of Health Bulletin. 
These rules (while furnished for smallpox) will apply 
to the care and management of all contagious diseases. 
“The room selected for the sick should be large, 
easily ventilated, and as far from the living and sleep- 
ing rooms of other members of the family as it is practi- 
cable to have it. All ornaments, carpets, drapery, and 
articles not absolutely needed in the room should be re- 
moved. A free circulation of air from without should 
be admitted, both by night and by day. There is no 
better disinfectant than pure air. Place the bed as near 
as possible in the middle of the room, but care should, 
of course, be taken to keep the patient out of 
draughts(you know what a draught means, a cur- 
rent of air flowing from an inlet to an outlet). “ If the 
room connects with others that must be occupied, lock 
all but one door for entrance and exit, and fasten to the 
door frame—top, bottom and sides—sheets of cheap 
cotton cloth, which must be kept wet with thymol 
water(this is made by adding one teaspoonful of 
spirits of thymol to half a gallon of water, and spirits 
of thymol is made by adding one ounce of thymol to 
three ounces of 85 per cent, alcohol); “ or.you 
a solution of chloride of zinc ; two drachms of zinc to 396 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
half a gallon of water. Over the door to be used, the 
sheet must not be tacked at the bottom, nor along the 
full length of the lock side of the frame, but about five 
feet may be left free, to be pushed aside; this sheet, 
however, must be long enough to allow ten or twelve 
inches to lie in folds on the floor, and must also be kept 
wet with the disinfectant. 
“All discharges from the nose and mouth of the 
patient should be received on rags and immediately 
burned, and if the disease is smallpox, the same pre- 
caution should be taken with the crusts as they fall off. 
Night vessels should be kept supplied with a quart 
or so of the copperas disinfectant, into which all dis- 
charges from the bowels, bladder and mouth should be 
received. To prepare this copperas disinfectant, dis- 
solve one and one-half pounds of sulphate of iron 
(copperas) in one gallon of water. All spoons, dishes, 
etc., used in or taken from the sick-room should be put 
in boiling water at once. 
“ A pail or tub of the zinc disinfectant, made as fol- 
lows, one and one-half pounds of sulphate zinc and 
three-quarters of a pound of common salt, dissolved in 
six gallons of water, should be kept in the sick-room, 
and into this all clothing, blankets, sheets, towels, etc., 
used about the patient or in the room should be 
dropped immediately after use, and before being re- 
moved from the room. They should then be well 
boiled, as soon as practicable. 
“ Not more than two persons, one of them a skillful 
professional nurse, if possible, should be employed in 
the sick-room, and their intercourse with the other mem- 
bers of the family, and with the public, must be as PRECAUTIONARY MEASURES. 
397 
restricted as possible. If the disease is smallpox, all 
attendants should be re-vaccinated before taking 
charge of the patient. 
“In the event that it becomes necessary for an at- 
tendant to go away from the house, a complete change 
of clothing must be made, using such as has not been 
exposed to infection; the hands, face and hair should 
be washed in thymol water or chloride of zinc solution. 
Following this, free exposure to the open air should be 
secured before approaching any one. 
“Physicians and other necessary visitors, before enter- 
ing the sick-room, should put on an outer garment, 
closely buttoned up, and a handkerchief or wrap about 
the throat and neck. Such outer garment may be a 
linen duster or rubber overcoat; and this, together 
with the neck wrap, should be taken off in the open 
air immediately after leaving the sick-room, and either 
be dipped in the zinc disinfectant or hung up in an 
out-of-the-way place, exposed to the air, until the next 
visit. Safety consists in exposing to the open air 
every article of clothing that has been in any way sub- 
jected to the contagion. 
“Whenever practicable, the precautions above de- 
scribed for an attendant leaving the sick-room should 
be observed by the physician or visitor. Doctors and 
clergymen may convey contagion as readily as the laity, 
under similar conditions ; they should, therefore, take 
the same precautions.” If the disease be smallpox, 
“this advice applies also to re-vaccination at the begin- 
ning of an outbreak. Several instances of physicians, 
and one or two of clergymen, falling victims to the 
disease, have already come to the attention of the 398 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
Board during the past few months. It should be re- 
membered that, whereas the average period of incuba- 
tion ” (incubation means the time that elapses between 
the introduction of the poison and its development into 
the disease) “for smallpox is about twelve days; vacci- 
nation acts in from six to eight. By vaccination, there- 
fore, one may guard against the results of an exposure, 
even for some days after. 
“ Physicians and clergymen may do much toward 
securing an intelligent compliance with these rules, 
both by precept and example, and their assistance 
should be invited in all cases. 
“ No inmate of the house, during the continuance of 
the disease, should venture into any public conveyance, 
or assemblage, or crowded building, such as a church 
or a school, nor after its termination, until permission 
is given by the attending physician. Letters must not 
be sent from the patient, and all mail matter from the 
house should first be subjected to a dry heat of 250 to 
260° Fall. “So important is this precaution, that” by 
a recent order of Acting P. M. G. Hatton, mail matter 
declared to be liable to contagion may be excluded 
from the mails, quarantined until the prohibition is 
removed, and then forwarded, only after proper disin- 
fection, under the direction of the medical authorities. 
“ Domestic animals, dogs, cats, etc., should not be 
allowed to enter the room of the patient; or, better 
still, should be excluded from the house. 'The privy 
should be thoroughly disinfected during the entire 
illness, with the copperas disinfectant, three to five 
gallons of which should be thrown into the vault every 
three or four days. Water-closets should be disinfected FUMIGATION. 
399 
by pouring a quart or so of this disinfectant into the 
receiver after each use. 
“After recovery has taken place, the patient should 
be bathed daily, for three or four days, in a weak dis- 
infectant—the thymol water, or a solution of chloride 
of zinc (two drachms to half a gallon of water).” If 
smallpox has been the disease, “ the head should be 
thoroughly shampooed during each bath, and the con- 
valescent be then clothed in fresh, clean garments that 
have been in no way exposed to the infected air.” 
Smallpox patients should be kept in the house at least 
two weeks after the crusts have all disappeared. 
“After recovery or death, all articles worn by or that 
have come in contact with the patient, together with 
the room and all its contents, should be thoroughly 
disinfected by burning sulphur. To do this, have all 
windows, fire-places, flues, keyholes, doors, and other 
openings securely closed by strips or sheets of paper 
pasted over them. Then place on the hearth or stove, 
or on bricks set in a wash-tub containing an inch or so 
of water, an iron vessel of live coals, upon which throw 
three or four pounds of slilphur. All articles in the room, 
and others of every description that have been exposed 
to infection, which cannot be washed or exposed to dry 
heat, and yet are too valuable to be burned, must be 
spread out on chairs, or racks; mattresses or bed- 
springs set up so as to have both surfaces exposed; 
window-shades and curtains laid out at full length, and 
every effort made to secure thorough exposure to the 
sulphur fumes. The room should then be kept tightly 
closed for twenty-four hours. After this fumigation— 
which it will do no harm to repeat—the floor and wood- 400 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
work should be washed with soap and hot water, and 
the walls and ceiling whitewashed, or, if papered, the 
paper should be removed. The articles which have 
been subjected to fumigation should be exposed for 
several days to sunshine and fresh air. If the carpet 
has unavoidably been allowed to remain on the floor 
during the illness, it should not be removed until after 
the fumigation; but must then be taken up, beaten and 
shaken in the open air, and allowed to remain out of 
doors for a week or more. If not too valuable, it should 
be destroyed; but whenever practicable, it should be 
removed from the room at the beginning of the illness. 
After the above treatment has been thoroughly en- 
forced, the doors and windows of the room should be 
kept open as much as possible for a week or two. 
Where houses are isolated, articles may be exposed 
out of doors. The entire contents of the house should 
be subjected to the greatest care, and when there is 
any doubt as to the safety of an article it should be 
destroyed, preferably, by burning. 
“ Such articles of clothing, bedding, etc., as can be 
washed, should first be treated by dipping in the zinc 
disinfectant; they should then be immediately and 
thoroughly boiled. 
“ The ticking of beds and pillows used by the patient 
should be treated in the same manner, and the contents, 
if hair or feathers, should be thoroughly baked in an 
oven. If this cannot be done, they should be destroyed 
by fire, as should, in any event, all straw, husk, moss or 
* excelsior’ filling. The clothing of nurses should be 
thoroughly fumigated and cleansed before they are 
taken from the house, or better still, burned, if feasible. DISINFECTION OF DEAD BODIES. 
401 
“ In this connection attention is called to the fact that 
smallpox has been conveyed between widely distant 
points, during this epidemic, through the medium of rags 
and paper stock. In the present emergency authori- 
ties will do well to quarantine shipments of these 
articles unless accompanied by a certificate of their 
disinfection under competent supervision. In any 
event, it is incumbent upon owners of establishments 
in which such articles are handled to insist upon the 
vaccination or re-vaccination of all persons engaged in 
the work.” 
While the above rules were issued to prevent the 
spread of smallpox, yet they are so applicable to all 
contagious diseases that I felt I could not do better 
than quote them in full. 
By observing these precautions carefully, it will be 
almost impossible for any disease to spread, and the 
danger of contagion will be confined to those in imme- 
diate attendance on the patient, while even there it will 
be reduced to the minimum. 
But some persons die of contagious diseases, and 
while we know that in some diseases the poison can be 
received from the dead body, we have not sufficient 
grounds to say that it may not be so communicable in 
all diseases. Therefore, certain disinfecting precau- 
tions are necessary in the cases of those who die from 
contagious diseases. From the source that I have 
already quoted, I note that “ In the event of death 
(from smallpox) the clothing in which the body is 
attired should be sprinkled with thymol water, the 
body wrapped in a disinfectant cerecloth (a sheet 
thoroughly soaked in the zinc disinfectant, double 402 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
strength) and placed in an air-tight coffin, which is to 
remain in the sick-room until removed for burial. No 
public funeral must be allowed, either at the house or 
at the church, and no more persons should be per- 
mitted to go to the cemetery than are necessary to 
inter the corpse.” 
While these very stringent regulations may seem 
unnecessary, and almost to partake of the character of 
unnatural harshness toward the remains of one who 
has, mayhap, been very much beloved in life, yet I can 
assure you that the nearer you adhere to them, in the 
case of all contagious diseases, the less likely will 
others be to take the disease. 
To point this, I will relate a case that recently hap- 
pened in England. A young man, employed as porter 
at one of the railway stations in London, fell sick with 
diphtheria and died. His body was removed, for inter- 
ment, to a neighboring village where he belonged, and 
where there lived a young woman to whom he was en- 
gaged to be married. The coffin lid was removed, to 
allow his friends to view the remains, and this young 
woman kissed his mouth. A few days subsequently 
she was seized with diphtheria and died. 
A communication from Dr. Jenkins, recently pub- 
lished in the Medical and Surgical Reporter, will con- 
vey to your minds better than could be done in any 
other way, the necessity for this thorough disinfection, 
because it will make you realize for how long a time 
these poisonous germs may retain their activity unless 
deprived of it by disinfection. He says, “ I was called 
on February 9th, 1882, to see Philip M., a child two 
years old, in consultation with Dr. Payne. The dis- TENACITY OF DISEASE GERMS. 
403 
ease was decided to be scarlet fever. The child died on 
the thirteenth day of the disease. The source of infec- 
tion seemed obscure, and the parents insisted that the 
child had been nowhere to catch the disease. It was 
the only child in the family; had not been away from 
home; there were no cases in that part of the city, 
and only three mild cases anywhere in the community, 
and in those, contagion was easily established as a 
cause. We ascertained the fact that they had lost a 
child two years before, with scarlet fever, and that the 
child was just the same age as this little fellow. 
“This led us to think that probably some of the cloth- 
ing might have been laid away without having been 
disinfected, and saved until this child had reached the 
same age, and then put upon him. Upon inquiry, we 
were told that the child had worn none of his brother’s 
clothing recently. When we called next day, however, 
the mother exhibited a little woolen cap, and said that 
this was the only article of clothing that the child had 
worn recently that had belonged to his brother. After 
further investigation, we found that the child that died 
two years before had this cap on when he was taken 
sick, that it hung in the room during his illness, and 
that after the funeral it was put away in a closely cov- 
ered tin box without disinfecting. The box was air- 
tight, and the cap had never been out of it until three 
days before our little patient was taken sick, when he 
wore it out on the street. Both Dr. Payne and myself 
were fully satisfied, from the above circumstances, that 
the scarlet fever germs had been kept in that cap for 
two years. Why might it not, under the same careful 
process, be kept for ten years ?” 404 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
It would be impossible for any one book to contain 
all the small details necessary to prevent the inroads 
of disease. I can but point out the main indications, 
and by so doing give you a nucleus from which your 
intelligence must evolve the whole. 
Man must realize that, in connection with the subject 
of avoiding disease, he has certain duties that he owes 
to the public, to his neighbors, as well as to himself and 
his family. 
He must ever remember the golden rule of “ Do 
unto others as you would that they should do unto 
you.” It is very well, of course, to use all precautions 
to prevent contracting disease, but you must not be 
entirely selfish; you must at the same time exert your- 
self to prevent the spread of contagious diseases, and 
to save others from suffering the afflictions you are so 
anxious and so solicitous to avoid yourselves. Very 
few persons realize their true duties and position in 
this world. In politics, the very large majority of men 
take little or no interest; they do an immense deal of 
talking, but it all ends in talk; they do not act, because 
they feel that there are others to do the work; they 
have their own private interests to look after, and feel 
disinclined to spare the time for public labor; when, 
as a logical sequence, the administration of the affairs 
of government, from the smallest village to the capital 
of the nation, falls into the hands of men who make 
politics the business of their lives. When a man goes 
into any kind of mercantile business, whether it be 
manufacturing or trading, he is resolved to make all 
the money he can ; and while he makes a great parade 
of honesty, yet, from my experience in the world, there A FITTING ANALOGY. 
405 
are very few large business men who will not often strain 
points amazingly, and resort to practices that, while they 
cannot be exactly characterized as absolutely dishon- 
est, yet are of such a nature that a pei'fectly pure- 
minded man would recoil from their perpetration. So 
it is with professional politicians. The majority of them 
commence poor; they embark in politics, as a man 
commences in other business, with the purpose of mak- 
ing money, and they are not overly particular how 
they make it; in their selfish way of looking at it, “the 
end justifies the means." 
They even strain points to a greater extent than the 
average merchant, and they are enabled to do so be- 
cause of the apathy and indifference of their neighbors. 
Contagious diseases might be aptly compared to 
average politicians. They both thrive by oppressing 
and afflicting human nature. They start from the 
same hot-house of corruption, and intend to secure all 
the prizes possible. To the politician, power and 
money; to the disease, victims, deformity and death. 
Here are the two Meccas, toward which each direct 
their ultimate ends. 
Contagious diseases have no business in the world; 
they ought not to exist; neither have professional 
politicians; they are both blots on the bright page of 
humanity, but they both are, because of the indifference 
of the large mass of mankind. 
If a man owns real estate, from which he derives a 
rental of fifty thousand dollars a year, it makes very 
little difference to him how much corruption may exist 
in municipal government. Even though the numerous 
jobs and political chicanery may double the tax rate, 406 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
it will make such a comparatively small extra demand 
on his large income, that he fails to bestir himself to 
disinfect this mass of political rottenness, because it 
does not seriously affect him in purse. If this same man 
can keep disease away from his own house and his 
own family, it is all right, in his estimation ; he cares 
not how many others may suffer; he thinks that every 
man ought to take care of himself, and fails to realize 
the duties he owes to his neighbors. 
But, unfortunately, disease is not quite so politic or 
discriminating as our corruptionists. They fear and 
respect money, disease does not. They cannot seri- 
ously injure a very rich man; disease can; it can kill him. 
It makes no difference to disease, whether a man is a 
millionaire or a pauper; it has no preferences, neither 
does it know fear. It respects and avoids and fears 
only one class of human beings, namely, those who 
know how to live, those who understand hygiene and 
put its teachings into practice. 
Occasionally we hear of an era of reform, when 
the better men of a locality unite together to crush 
and exterminate the professional politicians who have 
been preying on their vitals (their purses), and whose 
corruption has become unbearable. To accomplish 
their purpose, they use all possible means to arouse 
the public from their lethargy, to make them realize 
how they are being robbed and abused, and to show 
them how easy it will be to overthrow these robber 
bosses, if they will only rise in their power and use the 
energies which they possess. When a reform victory 
has been achieved, the warriors, if they reflect, are 
themselves surprised how easy the machine has been WHAT BOARDS OF HEALTH DO. 
407 
defeated, and wonder why they tolerated such oppres- 
sion so long. So it is, precisely, with disease. 
The Boards of Health are the reform committees, 
who are banded together to combat and overthrow 
disease. Realizing that disease, in its various forms, 
was undermining and destroying the physical welfare of 
man, just as political debauchery was ruining the foun- 
dation of theoretical popular government, it became 
one of the necessities of civilization, that men of intelli- 
gence should unite together in order that they might 
devise means to limit and control the hitherto un- 
checked ravages of disease. Out of this necessity 
sprang, first, the various city “ Boards of Health;” then 
came similar bodies for the States; and finally it was 
deemed wise to establish a “National Board of Health.” 
But just as it would be impossible for any reform 
committee of citizens, no matter how much wealth and 
intelligence might be represented, and no matter how 
hard they might work, to overthrow a corrupt municipal 
or State ring, unless they could enlist not only the 
sympathy, but also the active and hearty cooperation 
of the masses, so will it be equally impossible for any 
board or boards of health to vanquish disease, unless 
they are thoroughly aided by the intelligent assistance 
of the public. 
The reform committee tells you how to purify poli- 
tics, and to politically destroy bad rulers. But you 
must do the work. Boards of Health instruct you how 
you may avoid disease, and how you may successfully 
battle with and ultimately annihilate contagion, but you 
must carry out their instructions, otherwise their labor 
will be of no avail. 408 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
This crude illustration will serve to make you under- 
stand how essential it is for the public to assist heartily 
the efforts of organized Boards, and how futile their 
efforts will be if they do not receive this full coopera- 
tion. You all know that the purpose for which a 
Board of Health is created is to devise means to pre- 
vent disease and to promote the public health ; you will 
now know equally well that the Board cannot do this 
alone; that it can do nothing of any account, unless 
you aid its efforts. 
It may issue directions for certain things to be done, 
but if you fail to carry out these suggestions, their 
recommendations will be of no avail and might as well 
not have been made. They will tell you what to do, 
but you must do it. 
In order that you may understand your duties in this 
respect, I will make some quotations from the sanitary 
laws of various localities, as I find them recorded in the 
National Board of Health Bulletin. It will be your duty 
to assist, as far as lies in your power, the carrying out of 
these regulations. How to do so, the minute details, I 
will not insult your intelligence by detailing. Your 
good, common sense will make clear to you the means by 
which you can assist the local authorities. But ever 
bear in mind, that when you are aiding others to avoid 
disease, you are likewise taking precautions for your- 
self, because no one can say where and when disease 
may break out. 
First we will note some of the sanitary laws of 
Terre Haute, Indiana. After establishing a board of 
health, the Council ordinance goes on to say:— SANITARY LAW OF TERRE HAUTE. 
409 
GENERAL DUTIES OF THE BOARD OF HEALTH. 
“The Board of Health, hereby established, shall have 
general supervision of the sanitary condition of the 
city, and is hereby invested with power to establish and 
enforce such rules and regulations as they may deem 
necessary to promote, preserve and secure the health 
of the city, and to prevent the introduction and spread- 
ing of contagious, infectious, or pestilential diseases. 
The Board of Health, or any member thereof, is em- 
powered and authorized to enter any premises for the 
purpose of examining the sanitary condition thereof. It 
is hereby enjoined upon the officers of the city to be 
attentive and vigilant in assisting the Board of Health 
in the execution of their duties. 
“ Immediately after their organization the Board 
shall appoint one of their number to act as a health 
officer. 
“ It shall be the duty of the health officer to execute 
and enforce, by the aid of the sanitary police herein- 
after to be provided for, the orders and directions of 
the Board of Health, and the provisions of all ordi- 
nances touching the health of the city, to examine and 
inspect all places and sources of filth which may be, or 
are likely to become, nuisances, and report the same to 
the Board of Health, in order that they may be removed 
or abated, and to suggest to the Board, at all times, 
such hygienic (disease preventing) measures as he may 
deem necessary to promote the health and comfort of 
the city. 
DUTIES OF THE HEALTH OFFICER. 
SANITARY POLICE. 
“ The Police Board may, in their discretion, with the 410 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
concurrence of the Common Council, appoint sanitary 
policemen, who shall act in aid of and under the direc- 
tion of the Board of Health, in enforcing the provi- 
sions of this ordinance and the regulations and rules 
of the Board of Health. 
“ It shall be the duty of the police to aid the health 
officers in executing and enforcing the orders and 
directions of the Board of Health, and in enforcing all 
ordinances and laws designed to promote and secure 
the healthfulness of the city. It shall be the duty of 
each policeman to patrol his district thoroughly and 
systematically. When a policeman finds any person 
violating any of the ordinances relating to public 
health, it shall be his duty to inform such person of 
such violation, and report the same to the health offi- 
cer. It shall be the duty of the city marshal to serve 
all notices issued by the Board of Health, and report to 
the health officer whether the notices served have been 
complied with or not. It shall be the duty of any 
policeman, under the direction of any health officer, to 
file complaint against such persons as persistently vio- 
late any of the directions of the Board of Health or 
any of the provisions of the sanitary ordinance. 
DUTIES OF THE SANITARY POLICE. 
PHYSICIANS AND OTHERS TO REPORT DISEASES. 
“For the purpose of guarding against the introduction 
and spreading of any contagious, infectious or pestilential 
diseases, it shall be the duty hereafter, of all physicians, 
of all keepers of hotels, taverns or boarding-houses, or 
of any householder, to report in writing to the Board 
of Health, or some member thereof, forthwith, each and SANITARY LAW OF TERRE HAUTE. 
411 
every case which may come to their knowledge, of 
smallpox, diphtheria, scarlet fever, typhoidfever, cholera, 
or any other pestilential disease, occurring or existing 
within the limits or vicinity of said city, including in 
such report the name of person so afflicted, and the 
place where such person may be found. 
DUTIES OF THE BOARD OF HEALTH IN CASE OF CONTAGIOUS 
DISEASES. 
“Whenever any person shall report to the Board of 
Health, or any member thereof, that any person within 
the corporate limits of said city is affected with or 
suffering from smallpox, diphtheria, scarlet fever, cholera, 
or any other pestilential disease, it shall be the duty 
of said Board of Health, or some member thereof, 
forthwith to examine the condition of the person so 
reported, and if it shall be found that such person is 
afflicted with and suffering from any such disease, 
said Board of Health, or some member thereof, shall 
at once take such steps as may be necessary to isolate 
such person, and if they deem it necessary,'shall cause 
such person to be removed to some suitable place or 
building prepared for such cases. And whenever 
smallpox, diphtheria, scarlet fever, or any other pesti- 
lential disease is found to exist in any house or tene- 
ment, to cause its presence to be indicated by a red 
flag bearing the name of the disease in white letters. 
And it shall be the duty of the Board of Health to see 
that suitable disinfectants are properly used, and to 
promptly enforce all such measures as they may deem 
necessary to secure and promote the public health. And 
it shall be the duty of the Board of Health to investi- 
gate, as far as possible, the causes of such contagious 412 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
and pestilential disease, and if possible, remove or 
abate such causes. 
IN CASE OF RECOVERY FROM A CONTAGIOUS DISEASE 
“It shall be unlawful for any person who has become 
affected with any contagious or infectious disease, or 
who is recovering from such disease, to attend school, 
church, or any public gathering, or to mingle in society 
in any way, until the Board of Health, or some person 
designated by them, certifies that they are no longer 
liable to communicate said disease. 
“It shall be unlawful to hold a public funeral for any 
person who has died of cholera, smallpox, diphtheria or 
scarlet fever. 
IN CASE OF DEATH FROM A CONTAGIOUS DISEASE. 
“It shall be the duty of the physician to immediately 
furnish to the family in which may occur the death of 
any person upon whom he has been in professional 
attendance, without charge, a certificate, setting forth, 
as nearly as may be known, the following facts in rela- 
tion to such deceased person; viz., the age, name, sex, 
color, nativity, whether married or single, date and 
cause of death, and late residence. And in case no 
physician shall have been in attendance, then such cer- 
tificate shall be furnished to the undertaker by some 
member of the family of the deceased, or by some other 
person, who may have been in attendance upon such 
deceased person during his or her last sickness. In 
case of a Coroner’s inquest, such certificate shall be 
furnished, without charge, by the Coroner. 
CERTIFICATE OF DEATHS BY PHYSICIANS. 
BURIAL PERMITS. 
“It shall be the duty of the Board of Health, on the SANITARY LAW OF TERRE HAUTE. 
413 
presentation of a certificate of death, as provided in 
the preceding section, to file the same and issue there- 
on a burial permit, and it shall be unlawful to bury any 
person in any of the cemeteries of Terre Haute with- 
out a permit from the Board of Health, issued on the 
presentation of a certificate of death. 
CONSTRUCTION OF PRIVY VAULTS. 
“All privy vaults hereafter constructed or recon- 
structed within the city limits shall be sunk to a depth 
of not less than ten or more than fifteen feet, and be 
walled up with brick or stone. Each privy vault should 
be provided with a ventilating flue, extending from the 
vault to a distance of at least two feet above the build- 
ing over the vault. 
LOCATION OF CESSPOOLS. 
“It shall be unlawful to construct any cesspool 
within twenty-five feet of any well, the water from 
which is used for drinking or culinary purposes, unless 
said cesspool be made water-tight. Whenever any 
cesspool has already been constructed within less than 
twenty-five feet from such well, the same shall, within 
two months from the time this ordinance takes effect, 
be emptied of its contents and filled with earth. 
DISINFECTING PRIVY VAULTS AND CESSPOOLS. 
“ It shall be unlawful to permit any privy vault or 
cesspool within the corporate limits of Terre Haute to 
become filled to within less than two feet of the surface 
of the ground. All privy vaults must be deodorized 
and disinfected with lime, sulphate of iron (copperas), 
ashes, earth, or some other disinfectant, that they shall 
emit no noxious gases or offensive odors. 414 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
CLEANING PRIVY VAULTS AND CESSPOOLS. 
“ It shall hereafter be unlawful for any person, firm 
or company to empty any privy vault, cesspool or 
other receptacle of fluid filth, except with a machine, or 
apparatus, or by a process approved by the Board of 
Health, which approval must be evidenced by a writ- 
ten certificate issued to the person, firm or company 
proposing to engage in said business, by the Secretary 
of the Board of Health, which certificate shall be grant- 
ed without charge. When a privy vault or cesspool 
emits offensive odors, or becomes too full, or needs 
reconstruction, the owner, occupant, or agent of the 
premises shall disinfect, or clean and disinfect, or clean 
and reconstruct, within five days after receiving a writ- 
ten or printed notice so to do from the Board of 
Health. If said notice is not complied with, it shall be 
the duty of said Board to employ some person or 
persons to execute their order, at the expense of said 
occupant, owner or agent. 
vault-cleaners’ apparatus. 
“ It shall be unlawful for any firm, person, or com- 
pany, using or controlling any wagon, machine or 
other apparatus for emptying privy vaults or cess- 
pools, etc., to allow such apparatus to remain or stand 
upon any street, alley, lot, or other place in said city, 
unless the same has been thoroughly cleansed and 
deodorized since last used. 
“ It shall be unlawful for any person or firm to 
empty or deposit the contents of any cesspool, water- 
closet, privy vault, or sink, or any offal, garbage, 
manure, or any refuse vegetable or animal matter, 
DISPOSAL OF FILTH FROM VAULTS AND CESSPOOLS. SANITARY LAW OF TERRE HAUTE. 
415 
in any place other than that selected by the Board of 
Health. 
DEPOSITING FILTH IN ALLEYS, AREAS, ETC. 
“ It shall be unlawful for any person or persons to 
deposit or place any offal, garbage, manure, or any kind 
of refuse animal or vegetable matter that may give rise 
to noxious gases or offensive odors, in any alley, street, 
yard, or in any public or private grounds in said city, 
but the same shall be placed in water-tight receptacles, 
which shall be kept in some convenient and secure 
place on the premises, to be removed as often as may 
be necessary to prevent the formation of noxious gases 
or offensive odors. 
ALLOWING FILTH TO REMAIN IN ALLEYS. 
“ It shall be unlawful for any person or persons to 
allow any accumulation of filth that may be detrimental 
to the health or comfort of the city, in any yard or 
alley, or on any premises which such person may own, 
occupy, or for which he may be the agent. 
CLEANING FOUL ALLEYS, ETC. 
“It shall be the duty of the Board of Health, whenever 
they find any accumulation of filth which may be detri- 
mental to the health or comfort of the city, in any yard 
or alley, or on any premises, to issue a written or 
printed notice to the owner, occupant or agent of said 
premises, to clean the same within three days; and if 
said owner, occupant or agent shall fail to comply with 
said notice, then the Board of Health shall issue a 
notice to the Street Commissioner, who shall forthwith 
clean said premises, at the expense of the owner 
thereof. 416 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
“It shall be the duty of the Fire Department to thor- 
oughly flush and cleanse the sewers of the city as often 
as the Board of Health may deem necessary to pro- 
mote, preserve and secure the health of the city. 
FLUSHING AND CLEANING SEWERS. 
“In order, hereafter, to prevent contamination of wells, 
be it enacted, that all wells hereafter dug shall be so 
constructed as to prevent surface water from draining 
into them; and no pools of stagnant water shall be 
allowed to form or remain near them, and all public 
wells shall be securely arched over with brick or stone, 
and cemented. 
CONSTRUCTION OF WELLS. 
PUBLIC WELLS. 
“It shall be unlawful to maintain any public well in 
the city, unless it be provided with a water-tight catch 
basin, which empties through an iron pipe into a drain- 
well, at least fifteen feet deep, and at least twenty feet 
from the said public well. Such drain-well to be 
securely arched over with brick or stone. 
SLAUGHTER-HOUSES, ETC., WITHIN THE CITY LIMITS. 
“It shall be unlawful for any person, firm or company 
to erect, build or construct within the limits of the city 
any greasery, soap factory, tallow chandlery, tannery, 
slaughter-house, distillery, or any other building or 
inclosure, for the purpose of carrying on any business 
or trade which may give rise to noxious gases or 
offensive odors. . 
“It shall be unlawful to use or occupy as a slaughter- 
house, any house, pen, yard or other place within the 
corporate limits of the city, or within two miles thereof, 
CONSTRUCTION AND CARE OF SLAUGHTER-HOUSES. SANITARY LAW OF TERRE HAUTE. 
417 
unless such house, pen, yard, or other place be paved 
with brick, stone or tiling, and cemented so as to be 
water-tight, and the said pavement made with descent 
toward a gutter, which shall pass through the same, 
and lead to a tub or reservoir, placed so as to receive 
the blood and offal. And the whole of such pavement, 
gutter and reservoir shall be thoroughly cleaned at the 
end of each day the same is used during the months 
of March, April, May, June, July, August, September 
and October, and at least once each week during the 
months of November, December, January and Febru- 
ary, and every such slaughter-house or pen shall be 
whitewashed with lime once every month during the 
year. And the occupant of such slaughter-house shall 
not permit or suffer to remain on or about such 
premises any blood, offal, bones, hair, slop, or any 
offensive matter, for a longer period than twenty-four 
hours, between the first of April and the first of Novem- 
ber of each year, nor longer than one week during the 
remainder of the year, but the same shall be collected 
and removed in tight-covered vessels, and buried, or 
so disposed of as not to give rise to any offensive odors 
or noxious gases, and such person shall at all times keep 
his premises in a clean and proper sanitary condition. 
INSPECTION OF SLAUGHTER-HOUSES, BUTCHER-SHOPS, ETC. 
“It shall be the duty of the Board of Health to inspect 
all slaughter-houses, butcher-shops, and fish markets, 
and to require that they be kept clean and in good 
sanitary condition; to inspect meat and fish offered for 
sale, and if any be found that is unwholesome and 
unfit for use, to condemn the same, and prohibit its 
sale for food. 418 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
INSPECTION OF DAIRIES AND MILK. 
“ It shall be the duty of the Board of Health, as 
often as they may deem necessary, to inspect dairies, 
and to require them to be kept in good sanitary condi- 
tion, and to inspect the milk offered for sale, and if any 
be found unwholesome and unfit for use, to condemn 
the same and prohibit its sale for use. 
* “ It shall be unlawful to erect or build any stable, 
pig-pen, hen-house, or any building for the keeping of 
domestic animals, within twenty-five feet of any well 
the water from which is used for domestic purposes, 
and it shall be unlawful to allow any stable, shed, 
house, pen, or any inclosure in which domestic animals 
are kept, to become filthy, or to emit noxious gases or 
offensive odors. 
STABLES, PIG-PENS, HEN-HOUSES, ETC. 
“ It shall be unlawful to construct any cooper vats 
within the corporate limits of the city, except in such a 
manner and in such locality as may be approved by the 
Board of Health. And all cooper vats now in use 
within the city limits shall be emptied and cleaned as 
often as the Board may deem necessary for the health 
of the city.” 
The Board of Health of Richmond, Va., published 
the following card:— 
COOPER VATS. 
Office Board of Health, 
Richmond, December 27, 1881. 
“ The most effectual way is to secure the hearty and 
intelligent cooperation of the heads of families, mana- 
gers of all manufacturing interests, merchants, super- 
HOW TO SUPPRESS SMALLPOX. VARIOUS SANITARY LAWS. 
419 
intendents of transportation lines—indeed, all who have 
others in their employment—to carry out the views of 
the Council as expressed in the recent order on this 
subject. To accomplish this result, such responsible 
persons must see that no one in their employment is 
unprotected (by vaccination). In case of refusal, they 
should report the subordinate, and then discharge him 
promptly from their service, refusing to employ any 
one who is not protected by vaccination. It would be 
well for householders and others to satisfy themselves 
as to the possibility of introducing the disease into their 
families from receiving their clothing of laundresses of 
whose surroundings they know nothing. Smallpox 
has been conveyed in clothing returned from an in- 
fected place. Under the wise and beneficial provisions 
of this ordinance our citizens have an opportunity of 
protecting themselves in the manner above indicated. 
If any one will not yield preconceived views on the 
subject of vaccination and revaccination, he had better 
seek a habitation, as a hermit, elsewhere. The au- 
thorities intend that the ordinance shall be enforced, as 
they believe that no one has the right to make himself 
a centre of contagion and death to the whole com- 
munity, even if he is willing to incur the personal risk 
himself.” (Signed) J. L. Cabell, 
The State Board of Health of Indiana has issued the 
following: “After January ist, 1882, no person, until 
after they have been successfully vaccinated, shall be 
admitted into any public or private school in the State.” 
From New Hampshire, under date of December 
19th, 1881, I note that “Its appearance (smallpox) 
President Board of Health. 420 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
within the State would be a great misfortune, for the 
panic it is sure to cause paralyzes business within a 
certain radius, and entails large pecuniary loss to all 
within the municipal limits of its infection. The only 
safety is in vaccination and re-vaccination as a preven- 
tive, and isolation, if, unfortunately, it gains a foothold. 
It is important, therefore, that railway officials guard 
closely against the transportation of those having the 
disease, or who have been in such position as to have 
their clothing infected with the contagion; for a rail- 
way passenger car, once infected, becomes a prolific 
centre for the infection of others, as well as a difficult 
and expensive apartment to disinfect and cleanse.” 
From Nashville, Tenn., we hear as follows:— 
Nashville Tenn., January 4, 1882. 
“To Public Carriers:—Smallpox being reported pre- 
valent in several of the leading cities of the country, 
and recently having developed in two localities in 
Tennessee, through the agency of persons coming from 
other States, in order to prevent the spread of the dis- 
ease, the State Board of Health orders— 
“ 1 st. That no person suspected of having smallpox, 
in any of its forms, shall be allowed to travel on rail- 
road, water way, or other means of public conveyance 
in the State, and all common carriers are hereby inter- 
dicted from transporting any such persons. 
“2d. That no corpse having died of smallpox or 
other infectious disease shall be transported under 
fifteen months after death, and then only with a tem- 
perature of 320 or under, and upon a certificate of the 
health officer at the place of disinterment and re-inter- 
ment, if any there be. VARIOUS SANITARY LAWS. 
421 
“3d. That no goods, or chattels, or merchandise, or 
wearing apparel belonging or pertaining to any per- 
son infected with smallpox, or which may have been 
exposed to such infection, shall be received on board 
of any train, steamboat, barge, or other public convey- 
ance, for transportation to any point within the State 
or elsewhere. 
“4th. No passenger or goods of any description 
shall be received by any line of public carriers, for 
transportation, without the certificate of an inspector 
recognized by the Board, if there is reason to believe 
that such passenger or goods have been exposed to 
infection.” (Signed) W. M. Clark, m.d., 
Secretary and Executive Officer State Board of Health. 
The following are the Ohio State Laws :— 
“ The owner, or agent of the owner, of a house in 
which a person resides who has the smallpox, or any 
other disease dangerous to the public health, and the 
physician called to attend the person so afflicted, shall, 
within twenty-four hours after becoming cognizant of 
the fact, give notice thereof to the Board of Health, 
and when a person so affected is removed to a pest- 
house or hospital, the Board of Health is empowered 
to use all necessary means to restrain him of his liberty 
until the danger from infection or contagion from such 
disease ceases. 
“ Railroads, vessels, etc., may be subjected to quar- 
antine. The Board of Health or health officer may, in 
time of epidemics, or threatened epidemics, establish a 
quarantine on vessels, railroads, or any class of vehi- 
cles used for the purpose of transporting passengers, 
baggage or freight. 422 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
“ A person removed to a pest-house or hospital, who 
wilfully leaves or escapes therefrom, before the physi- 
cian thereof issues a certificate of restored health, shall 
be fined not less than five nor more than fifty dollars, 
or imprisoned not less than one nor more than ten 
days. 
“ Whoever violates any provision of this chapter, or 
any order of the Board of Health made in pursuance 
thereof, or obstructs and interferes with the execution 
of any such order, or willfully and illegally omits to 
obey any such order, shall be fined in any sum not ex- 
ceeding one hundred dollars, or imprisoned for any 
time not exceeding ninety days, or both.” 
Still further, the Common Council of the city of Cin- 
cinnati have ordained “ That whenever a case of small- 
pox is found within the limits of the city, the Board of 
Police Commissioners, or the health officer, are hereby 
authorized and empowered to exercise complete su- 
pervision over such case, so far as to prescribe the 
number of attendants or nurses, or persons who shall 
be allowed access to the apartment occupied by the 
person so afflicted; and it shall be the duty of said 
health authorities to so restrict the movements of those 
nursing or in communication with smallpox patients 
that said persons may be restrained from going about 
promiscuously among the citizens. 
“ The Board of Health and health officer are also 
hereby authorized and directed to prohibit all sale or 
disposition of rags, clothing, bedding, carpets, or furni- 
ture to dealers or other parties, from dwellings in which 
any smallpox patient may be or may have been, or the 
washing of clothing or other articles of any kind which VARIOUS SANITARY LAWS. 
423 
may have been used or exposed to infection in the 
apartments of such patients, elsewhere than in said 
dwelling, until the same shall have been disinfected in 
a manner satisfactory to the health officer. 
“ It shall be the duty of every captain, or command- 
ing officer of any steamboat or other vessel that may 
arrive at the port of Cincinnati, to report at once to 
the health officer every case of smallpox that may have 
occurred or been found on board of said vessel during 
the voyage or after arrival. 
“The making or washing of clothing, other than for 
the family, in any building in which there is a case of 
smallpox, or the conveyance of the body of any de- 
ceased smallpox patient in any public hack or carriage, 
are strictly forbidden. Any person or persons offend- 
ing against the provisions of this ordinance shall be 
subject to a fine not exceeding fifty dollars, or im- 
prisonment in the city work-house for not more than 
thirty days.” 
(Signed,) A. J. Miles, m.d., 
Health Officer. 
SMALLPOX REGULATIONS AT THE PORTS OF NEW YORK AND 
BOSTON. 
Quarantine, S. I., December 24th, 1881. 
To Owners and Managers of Passenger Steamship 
Lines at the Port of New York:— 
“The following rules and regulations have been 
adopted by the National Board of Health, and ap- 
proved by the President of the United States, November 
14th, 1881 :— 
“ 1. That all persons coming from or through any 
foreign port or place in which smallpox exists, who, 424 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
after the 14th day of November, 1881, shall arrive 
at any port of entry within the United States shall be 
subjected to examination in regard to their protection 
from that disease by the proper health authorities of 
the State within which such port lies ; or in case such 
authorities shall fail or refuse to enforce this rule, then 
by some officer or other proper person to be designated 
by the President of the United States. 
“2. That in case any person so arriving shall refuse 
to submit to such examination, or upon undergoingthe 
same shall be found not sufficiently protected from 
smallpox, such person, and in case he or she be not 
sui juris, then also the person having him or her under 
charge, shall be detained in quarantine until he or she 
shall have been properly vaccinated, or shall have 
passed the period of incubation from date of last 
exposure.” 
Attention is also respectfully called to the following 
rule and regulation of the National Board of Health:— 
“All merchant ships and vessels sailing from a 
foreign port where contagious or infectious disease 
exists, for any port of the United States, must obtain 
from the Consul, Vice Consul, or other Consular Officer 
of the United States at the port of departure, or from 
the medical officer, where such officer has been detailed 
by the President of the United States for that purpose, 
a bill of health in duplicate, which shall set forth the 
sanitary history of said vessel, and that it has in all 
respects complied with these rules and regulations. 
“Believing that protection of the lives and health of 
the people demand the adoption of the foregoing rules 
and regulations, the following requirements will be VARIOUS SANITARY LAWS. 
425 
made of the officers of steamships entering this 
port:— 
“ ist. Bills of health will be required by the quaran- 
tine officials at this port, in conformity with the above 
regulations. 
“2d. All immigrants, on arrival at quarantine, will be 
subjected to examination as regards their protection 
from smallpox. 
“ 3d. The examination of all immigrants by the medi- 
cal officers of steamships, within twenty-four hours of 
leaving port, and the vaccination of those who give 
evidence of insufficient protection through previous 
vaccination, will, if considered by the medical officer at 
quarantine to have been faithfully and intelligently 
performed, exempt immigrant passengers from such 
examination at quarantine as may be necessary to de- 
termine whether or not such passengers are protected 
from the effect of the contagion of smallpox, except 
where smallpox exists or has existed on board the 
vessel on the passage to this port. 
“4th. A certificate or card in the hand of each pas- 
senger, or the parent or guardian of the passenger, on 
which shall be written or printed “ Protected,” and 
signed by the medical officer of the steamship, will be 
understood to indicate that such passenger is suf- 
ficiently protected by previous vaccination or through 
the vaccination done on shipboard. All passengers 
not having such certificate will be considered and 
treated as exposed or unprotected. 
“ 5 th. The medical officers of passenger steamships 
will be required to verify under oath the number of per- 
sons considered protected by vaccination and smallpox. 426 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
“6th. All persons not protected will be vaccinated 
or submitted to a quarantine of observation. 
“The examination of such passengers as are vac- 
cinated soon after leaving the port of departure, and 
shortly before entering this port, to determine results, 
is earnestly enjoined upon medical officers. 
“Satisfactory evidence of adequate protection of 
immigrant passengers from previous vaccination, or 
thorough early vaccination by the medical officer of 
the ship, will not only contribute to the protection of 
the public health and security, but will promote the 
interests of passenger lines by saving time and ex- 
pense at quarantine.” 
(Signed) William M. Smith, 
Health Officer, Port of New York. 
The following will be of interest. 
Circular to Steamboat Owners. 
Illinois State Board of Health. 
Office of the Secretary, 
Springfield, January 9, 1882. 
“Dear Sir: Smallpox has already been introduced 
(within the past six weeks) into thirteeji of the eigh- 
teen Mississippi river counties of Illinois, as well as 
into the United States Marine Hospital at Cairo. In 
some instances the introduction is positively known to 
have been due to ‘ roustabouts’ or other hands from 
steamboats, and in others it is strongly suspected to 
have been by the same means. Under these circum- 
stances, it becomes my duty to advise you that unless 
those employed on steamboats are properly protected 
by vaccination (or otherwise), it may become necessary 
to enforce quarantine restrictions at all the river towns VARIOUS SANITARY LAWS. 
427 
of this State. It is earnestly hoped that such a mea- 
sure may not have to be resorted to, but its avoidance 
rests altogether in the hands of officers of steamboat 
lines and their immediate subordinates. An order 
from such officers requiring the prompt vaccination of 
all those permanently employed on their boats would 
be the first and most important step. 
“ I have already written to the Surgeon General of 
the Marine Hospital Service, asking what provision can 
be made for the gratuitous vaccination of hospital-tax- 
paying river men, and have no doubt he will make the 
necessary arrangements to that end. 
When this is done I would suggest that you supple- 
ment the requirements above indicated by another, di- 
recting that within a reasonable time after vaccination 
is thus made gratuitous, no “ rouster” or deck hand be 
employed on your boats who does not present a certifi- 
cate of recent vaccination (or other protection) from a 
marine hospital surgeon. Nothing impracticable nor 
onerous is asked or expected, but it is so entirely fea- 
sible to eliminate this mode of spreading smallpox, i. e., 
by unprotected steamboat men and employes, and the 
dangers to be averted, as well as the benefits to be 
derived, are so numerous and so obvious, that your cor- 
dial cooperation is confidently anticipated.” 
Very respectfully, 
(Signed) John H. Rauch, m.d., Secretary. 
Dr. Thomas C. Minor thus writes to the National 
Board of Health Bulletin : “ Cincinnati is again suffer- 
ing from its old-time plague, smallpox. With a large 
number of its population bitterly opposed to vaccina- 
tion, this fresh outbreak did not occur as a sanitary 428 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
surprise ; in fact, the present epidemic manifestation 
was confidently predicted in the report of the Health 
Department for 1879, at a time when the city was en- 
tirely free from the disease. That warning, however, 
was not heeded, and the usual consequences have fol- 
lowed. The winter of 1881, 1882 and 1883 will prob- 
ably witness a repetition of the scenes of 1871, 1872 
and 1873. Hundreds of valuable lives will be lost and 
much damage done to the trade of the city, in conse- 
quence of the absence of legislation making vaccina- 
tion compulsory throughout the State. 
“The epidemic of 1869 and 1870 cost the city over 
800 lives, and left about 3000 surviving victims in a 
badly marked condition. The epidemic of 1871 and 
1872 footed up a mortality of over 1400 in twelve 
months, and, estimating a death rate at 25 per cent., 
over 5000 persons must have suffered from the dis- 
ease. Without a law making vaccination compulsory, 
no Board of Health can expect to check an epidemic 
of smallpox, and the sanitary outlook is dark and fore- 
boding.” 
PROPOSED SANITARY LEGISLATION IN MARYLAND. 
A bill, entitled, “ An act to provide against the spread 
of infectious diseases”— 
“ Section i . Be it enacted by the General Assembly of 
Maryland, that where the health authority of any city 
or any Justice of the Peace for any County, is of opinion, 
on the certificate of a qualified medical practitioner, 
that the cleansing or disinfecting of any house or part 
thereof, and of articles therein likely to retain infection, 
would tend to prevent or check infectious diseases, it 
shall be the duty of such authority or Justice of the VARIOUS SANITARY LAWS. 
429 
Peace to give notice, in writing, to the owner or occu- 
pant of such house or part thereof, requiring him or her 
to cleanse and disinfect such house or part thereof, and 
articles, within a time specified in each notice; and if the 
person to whom notice is so given fails to comply there- 
with, he or she shall be liable to a penalty of not less 
than five dollars and not exceeding ten dollars for 
every day during which he or she continues to make 
default: and the health authority or Justice of the Peace, 
as the case may be, shall cause such house, or part 
thereof, and articles, to be cleansed and disinfected, and 
may recover the expenses incurred from the owner or 
occupant in default, as other fines and forfeitures are 
recoverable ; provided’ that where the owner or occu- 
pant of any such house or part thereof is, from poverty 
or otherwise, unable, in the opinion of the authority or 
Justice of the Peace, effectually to carry out the re- 
quirements of this section, such authority or Justice 
of the Peace may, without enforcing such require- 
ments on such owner or occupant, cleanse and disinfect 
such house or parts thereof, and articles, and the 
city, town or county in which such house is situated 
shall defray the expenses thereof. 
“Sec. 2. And be it enacted, that any health authority 
in any city or town, or any Justice of the Peace for any 
county, may direct the disinfection or destruction of 
any bedding, clothing or other articles which have been 
exposed to infection from any dangerous infectious 
disease ; provided,’ that where any person sustains any 
damage by reason of the exercise of any of the powers 
of this act, in relation to any matter as to which he is 
not himself in default, reasonable compensation shall 430 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
be made by the municipal or county authorities to such 
person. 
“ Sec. 3. And be it enacted, that when any suitable hos- 
pital or place for the reception of the sick is provided, 
within a convenient distance, any person who is suffering 
from any dangerous infectious disease, and is without 
proper lodging or accommodation, or lodged in a room 
occupied by more than one family, or is on board any 
ship or vessel, may, on a certificate signed by a qualified 
medical practitioner, and with the consent of the super- 
intending body of such hospital or place, be removed, 
by order of any health authority, or Justice of the 
Peace, to such hospital or place, at the cost of the city 
or county in which such case may occur; and any per- 
son who willfully disobeys or obstructs the execution 
of such order shall be deemed guilty of a misdemeanor, 
and shall be fined not less than $50, nor more than $200, 
or be imprisoned in jail in the discretion of a competent 
court, not less than one month, nor more than six 
months. 
“ Sec. 4. And be it enacted, That any person who, 
while suffering from any dangerous infectious disorder, 
willfully exposes himself or herself, without proper pre- 
cautions against spreading the said disorder, in any 
street, public place, shop, inn or public conveyance, or 
enters any public conveyance without previously noti- 
fying the owner, conductor, or driver thereof, that he is 
so suffering, or being in charge of any person so suffer- 
ing, so exposes such sufferer, or gives, lends, sells, 
transmits or exposes, without previous thorough 
disinfection, any bedding, clothing, rags, or other things 
which have been exposed to infection from any such VARIOUS SANITARY LAWS. 
431 
disorder, shall be liable to a penalty not exceeding 
$500, or imprisonment not exceeding twelve months, 
or both, in the discretion of a competent court. 
“Sec. 5. And be it enacted, that any person, parent, 
or guardian, or other party, who carelessly carry about 
children, or others, affected with infectious diseases, or 
who knowingly, or willfully introduce infectious persons 
into other persons’ houses, or permit children under 
their care to attend any school, theatre, church, or any 
public place where they will be brought in contact with 
others, shall be liable to a penalty not exceeding $100 
for each and every such offence. 
“Sec. 6. And be it enacted, that every owner or driver 
of a public conveyance shall immediately provide for 
the disinfection of such conveyance, in a manner to be 
approved by the local health authorities, after it has con- 
veyed any one suffering from a dangerous infectious dis- 
order, or the corpse of any one who has died from any 
such disorder; and if he fails to do so, he shall be liable 
to a penalty not exceeding $25 ; but no such owner or 
driver shall be required to convey any person so suffer- 
ing until he has been paid a sum sufficient to cover any 
loss or expense incurred by him in carrying into effect 
the provisions of this section. 
“Sec. 7. And be it enacted’ that any person who 
knowingly lets for hire any house, room, or part of a 
house, in which any person has been suffering from any 
dangerous infectious disorder, without having such 
house, room, or part of a house, and all articles therein 
liable to retain infection, disinfected, to the satisfac- 
tion of a qualified medical practitioner, as testified by a 
certificate signed by him, shall be liable to a penalty 432 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
not exceeding $250; and any person letting for hire, 
or showing for the purpose of letting for hire, any 
house, or part of house, or room, who, being ques- 
tioned by any person negotiating for the hire of such 
house, or part of house, or room, as to the fact of there 
being, or within six weeks previously having been 
therein, any person suffering from any dangerous infec- 
tious disorder, knowingly makes a false answer to such 
question, shall be liable to a penalty not exceeding 
$500 or to imprisonment for a period not exceeding 
twelve months. 
“ Sec. 8. And be it enacted, that when the body of any 
one who has died of any infectious disease is retained 
in a room in which persons live or sleep, or any dead 
body which is in such a state as to endanger the health 
of the inmates of the same house or room, any health 
officer or justice of the peace may, on a certificate 
signed by a qualified medical practitioner, or the ap- 
plication of three persons living in the neighborhood, 
order the body to be removed and buried at the ex- 
pense of the city, town or county, within a time to be 
limited by such order; and unless the friends or rela- 
tives of the deceased undertake to bury the body within 
the time so limited, and do bury the same, it shall be 
the duty of said health officer or justice of the peace to 
have such body buried at the expense of the city, town 
or county, and any person or persons obstructing the 
execution of any order made by any health officer or 
justice of the peace, under this section, shall be liable to 
a penalty not exceeding $200, or imprisonment not 
exceeding six months.” 433 
VARIOUS SANITARY LAWS. 
CIRCULAR TO PASTORS OF CHURCHES AND OTHERS. 
Office of Board of Health, 
Grand Rapids, Mich., Nov. 4, 1881. 
To : 
“ By virtue of authority vested in this Board, under 
sections 1731, 1732, and 1733 of the compiled laws of 
this State, we issue the following notice to all pastors 
of churches, sextons, hack owners, and all others who 
take any public part in the burial of the dead in the 
city of Grand Rapids:— 
“ All pastors of churches and sextons are prohibited 
from holding a public funeral in case of any person 
who may have died of smallpox, varioloid, diphtheria, 
scarlet fever, cholera, or puerperal fever, or from coun- 
tenancing the holding of such funeral. 
“ Hack owners and livery men are prohibited from 
allowing the bodies of persons dead from any of the 
diseases named in the last clause to be carried in any 
hack, omnibus or other vehicle owned or controlled by 
them, in any manner, or for any purpose whatever. 
“ The penalty for the violation of any rule or regula- 
tion established by Boards of Health, under authority of 
the sections named, is a forfeiture by the person so 
offending of not less than ten dollars nor more than 
one hundred dollars for each offence. In the perform- 
ance of its plain duty this Board has no alternative 
save to fulfill the requirements of the laws referred to, 
which, hereafter, it will endeavor strictly and impar- 
tially to do. 
“Earnestly desiring to do all in our power to arrest 
the spread of contagious and infectious diseases, we 
ask your hearty cooperation in the attainment of this 434 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
object, and trust that, in the interest of humanity and 
for the good of our city, you will not only hasten to 
comply with the requirements of this notice, but will, by 
every means in your power, strive to arrest the pro- 
gress of disease, and improve the sanitary condition 
of our surrroundings.” Geo. A. Love, 
(Signed) D. J. Doornink, 
C. H. Maxim, m.d., 
Members of Board of Health. 
SANITARY PRECAUTIONS TO PREVENT THE SPREADING OF 
INFECTIOUS DISEASES. 
• Smallpox, scarlet fever, diphtheria, or measles.—The 
patient should be kept in a separate room (preferably 
on an upper floor) from which, if possible, carpets, cur- 
tains, stuffed furniture, clothing, and other articles not 
required for immediate use should be removed before- 
hand ; and no person, except the physican, nurse or 
parent, should be allowed to enter the sick-room, or 
touch any of the articles used therein, until after 
thorough disinfection. 
To disinfect clothing, etc., in the sick-room.—Keep in 
the room a tub containing a quarter of a pound of 
sulphate of zinc and two ounces of common salt to 
each gallon of water. All bed-linen, towels, clothing, 
handkerchiefs, etc., used about the patient should be 
allowed to soak in this solution for at least an hour 
before removal from the room, and afterward be 
thoroughly boiled separate from the rest of the family 
washing. Never send such articles to a public laundry. 
To disinfect discharges from the patient.—Use the 
same disinfecting fluid as in disinfecting clothing, but 
three times stronger, or use copperas water made by 435 
SANITARY PRECAUTIONS. 
dissolving a pound and a half of copperas in a gallon 
of water. The latter answers for all excremental 
discharges, while the former is best for all articles of 
clothing and furniture. All vessels used in the sick- 
room should be disinfected with one or other of these 
disinfecting fluids, unless immediately immersed in 
boiling water. Disinfect the discharges and clothing 
immediately. J. R. Dibrell, Jr., m.d., 
Secretary State Board of Health, of Arkansas. 
CIRCULAR NO. 52. 
National Express Company, 
General Superintendent’s Office, 
Troy, N. Y., January io, 1882. 
“The New York State Board of Health has ordered 
‘that no remains of the dead from smallpox, and no 
materials known or suspected of having been exposed 
to the contagion, shall be brought to or carried into or 
through any railway station in the State of New York, 
or be transported upon any railway or by any public 
carrier from place to place.’ 
“The State Board of Health has also ordered that ‘all 
public carriers that convey the remains of the dead over 
the limits of the county where the death occurred, will 
require a transit permit before receiving the corpse.’ 
“ Therefore, all employes of the National Express 
Company, within the limits of the State of New York, 
must be governed by the following instructions :— 
“First. Whenever bodies are offered for shipment, 
destined to points beyond the limits of the county where 
the death occurred, you will refuse to receive same 
unless accompanied by a transit permit issued by the 
local authorities. 436 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
“ Second. Said transit permit must accompany body 
to destination. 
“ Third. Coupon number one, attached to transit 
permit, must be detached by agent at shipping office 
before body leaves such office or station; and the cou- 
pon must be preserved at such point, for future refer- 
ence. 
“ Fourth. Coupon number two must be detached by 
agent at destination, unless the destination is a point 
beyond the limits of the State of New York. When 
such is the case, the last messenger carrying the body 
within the limits of the State of New York must detach 
the coupon (number two), and certify to that effect on 
the back of the transit permit. Coupons detached by 
messengers must be left with agents at terminus of 
routes, for preservation. 
“ Fifth. Attached is a sample of the permits required 
by the State Board of Health. 
“ Further. All employes of the National Express 
Company, in New York State and elsewhere, are pro- 
hibited from receiving for shipment the remains of the 
dead from smallpox or other contagious diseases. 
“Agents outside of the State of New York will 
require the ordinary physician’s certificate, as hereto- 
fore, before receiving bodies for shipment.” 
E. H. Virgil, General Superintende7it. 
These extensive quotations from the National Board 
of Health Bulletin have been made for several reasons. 
In the first place, to many it will demonstrate, for the 
first time, the purposes and uses of Health Boards. 
You will now know how valuable they are. Again, it 
will give you a very good idea of how to avoid disease; INDIVIDUAL RESPONSIBILITY. 
437 
but, more important than any other consideration, it 
will make clear to any thoughtful mind the utter use- 
lessness of Health Boards and sanitary legislation, 
unless it is backed up by popular cooperation. You 
can readily see how very easy it would be for any one 
so inclined to avoid compliance with the rules laid 
down, and how very difficult it would prove, in the 
large majority of instances, to detect these delinquents. 
While sanitarians can direct and do much to improve 
the health of the world by public actions, yet if they 
do not receive the hearty support of the people, their 
efforts will accomplish but limited results. What they 
build up, public neglect of the teachings of hygiene will 
raze to the ground. Contagious diseases ought not to 
exist. They are abnormal conditions, contrary to the 
pure functions and laws of nature. A man ought not 
to have small pox any more than he ought to have big 
pox; but both are contagious, and if he subjects him- 
self to the influence of the poison, he will be very apt 
to contract the disease in either case. Since these 
conditions are abnormal, and ought not to be, we have 
good grounds to believe that by proper actions they 
might be totally annihilated from the globe. To 
accomplish this task would require enormous and long 
continued effort, but success, we have every reason to 
believe, would ultimately crown the labor. 
To accomplish this Utopian conception, but one 
thing is necessary. The whole world must resolve 
itself into one huge Board of Health. Every man, 
woman and child must become a member. Not an 
honorary member on the retired list, but a real, live, 
active, energetic portion of this large board. 438 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
In other words, without interfering too much or 
unnecessarily with your neighbor’s business, you should 
make it your business to see that he fulfills the indica- 
tions of the Board of Health, and if you find him 
derelict, to make report of his failure to the Board. Be 
sure, however, that you yourself are faithful in their 
observance. 
As with politics so with health, the people must do, 
or the dosses will rule, and when they rule, they do so 
for personal gain, and care not for the political or 
physical welfare of their neighbors. If any measure 
calculated to promote health comes before the average 
politician he views it through a mercenary microscope; 
if there is any money in it for him he is satisfied, it will 
receive his public-spirited and patriotic support; he has 
not looked into the matter deeply enough to know 
whether the proposed measure really has any merit, but 
that makes no difference to him if he can personally 
benefit himself. 
It behooves every man to know what he ought to do 
himself and what his neighbors ought to do, in the first 
place, and then to see that he and his neighbors live 
accordingly, in order that health may be promoted and 
disease averted. While Boards of Health are neces- 
sary, because somebody must be clothed with legislative 
authority to enforce their recommendations, it will not 
do to sit quietly down and allow them to do every- 
thing, giving no thought to sanitary matters because 
you know that a Board exists whose duty it is to attend 
to them. A merchant would be a fool who would 
trust his business absolutely to another; so is a man 
a fool who will trust his health implicitly in the hands INDIVIDUAL RESPONSIBILITY. 
439 
of others. Did you ever hear why the hyrax has no 
tail? “It is written, in the mystic volume of St. Nich- 
olas, that when the world was about being completed, 
notice was issued to all the beasts that, if they would go 
to the court of the king on a certain day, they would be 
handsomely finished off with tails. All were pleased 
with the prospect, but the hyrax was especially de- 
lighted. When the appointed day came, it was cold 
and rainy, and the hyrax did not like to go out in bad 
weather. So he stood in his door and asked the lion, 
and the wolf, and several others, to bring him his tail, 
and they all promised to attend to it. But they all forgot 
it, and when the hyrax went himself the next day to see 
about it, he found that the supply of tails was exhausted. 
That is why the hyrax has no tail; and if you rely on 
what other people tell you that they have done, or are 
going to do, for you, the result will probably be about 
the same.” * 
So it is with the majority of human beings. While 
they usually remember and do that which they realize 
at the time will be to their benefit, yet with public mat- 
ters they are like the hyrax, they look for others to do 
for them that which they neglect to do for themselves, 
and, like the hyrax, they are generally disappointed. 
Therefore, as you now understand, in order that con- 
tagious diseases may be avoided, and good health 
maintained, it becomes an absolute necessity that each 
one of us must do his or her duty in assisting the 
Boards of Health. If you notice any one of your 
neighbors neglecting any of the provisions already 
enunciated, or doing anything that, to your intelligent 
* Address of John S. Billings, m. d. 440 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
judgment, would seem detrimental to the health of the 
neighborhood, do not permit any false sentiment to 
prevent you from reporting such dereliction, and after 
making your report, see that it is acted upon. 
A careful observance of the different rules of life 
laid down throughout this work will tend to prevent, 
while a disregard of them will favor, the production of 
those diseased conditions of the human system not de- 
pendent upon contagion. The rules for disinfection will, 
if thoroughly carried out, destroy the power and viru- 
lence of contagious diseases. In conclusion, one word 
about typhoid fever. The features of this disease are 
located in the bowels, and it is the evacuations from 
them that contain the poisonous germs. This is the 
medium of contagion in this disease, therefore is it 
especially important that all stools from typhoid fever 
patients should be passed into a receptacle containing 
one of the solutions already referred to, by which they 
may be thoroughly disinfected. PRECAUTIONS FOR THE AGED. 
441 
CHAPTER XVI. 
HOW AGED PERSONS OUGHT TO LIVE. 
At six—I well remember when— 
I fancied all folks old at ten. 
But when I’d turned my first decade, 
Fifteen appeared more truly staid. 
But when the fifteenth round I’d run, 
I thought none old till twenty-one. 
Then, oddly, when I’d reached that age, 
I held that thirty made folks sage. 
But when my thirtieth year was told, 
I said, “ At twoscore men grow old ! ” 
Yet twoscore came and found me thrifty, 
And so I drew the line at fifty. 
But when I reached that age, I swore 
None could be old until threescore. 
And here I am at sixty now, 
As young as when at six, I trow ! 
’Tis true my hair is somewhat gray, 
And that I use a cane to-day ; 
’Tis true, these rogues about my knee 
Say “ Grandpa ! ” when they speak to me ; 
But, bless your soul, I’m young as when 
I thought all people old at ten ! 
Perhaps a little wiser grown— 
Perhaps some old illusions flown ; 
But wond’ring still, while years have rolled, 
When is it that a man grows old ? 
Vandyke Brown. 
GROWING OLD. 
As it requires special care and precautions in the 
management of infants, that they may grow into strong 
men and women, so does it become necessary that men 
and women shall alter to a certain extent their mode 442 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
of life, and use a certain amount of caution when they 
reach old age. 
The reasons for this will be made obvious by a few 
words of explanation. In the first place, all the vital 
organs, after years of activity, are commencing to feel 
exhausted; they are not as young and vigorous as they 
once were ; their inheritance of vital force is nearly 
exhausted, and unless carefully economized will not 
last long. 
Let us suppose that when a man reaches sixty years 
of age he still possesses an amount of vital force that 
might be represented as, say ioo. If, now, he uses ten 
portions of this force per year, it will last him ten 
years ; but if he uses twenty, it will become exhausted 
in five years; and so in proportion. 
In order to economize this vital force it will be 
necessary for old people to live slower, as it were, in 
every particular. Since the vital phenomena are more 
languid, the labor imposed on the vital organs must 
necessarily be lighter, or they will be unable to stand 
it. When a man has had for years a good and faithful 
horse, that finally grows old and infirm in his service, 
unless he is himself a brute, he will have consideration 
for the growing weaknesses of this animal, and will 
work him but little, allowing him to pass most of 
his time in ease and comfort. So ought man to treat 
his organs. When they have faithfully served him for 
sixty years or more, he ought to pension them, to place 
them on the retired list, and treat them with as much 
consideration and respect as a good young man would 
pay to his aged mother. 
In old age all the phenomena of life are reduced in PRECAUTIONS FOR THE AGED. 
443 
activity, all the functions are performed less rapidly 
and less vigorously; while in youth the process of 
formation or development exceeds that of destruction, 
and in middle life the two are equal, in old age 
destruction predominates and foreshadows the ultimate 
dissolution. Therefore, all measures must be resorted 
to that are calculated to retard this excessive tendency 
toward destruction. Such measures are those that 
make the least demand on the tissue, because, as you 
know, all acts of life entail the destruction of tissue, 
and the consumption of a certain amount of vital force, 
which will necessarily still further exhaust these already 
aged and weak organs. So, then, all voluntary acts 
must be performed more slowly and with more delib- 
eration. The bright fire of youth has now become 
converted, by use and time, into the dull glow of old 
age; if you put on the bellows, you can make this worn- 
out fire take on new activity, and for a short time burn 
as brightly as ever, but the succeeding lowering or 
depression will be great in proportion to the amount 
of artificial activity infused into the fire; the fuel will 
be more rapidly consumed, and the fire will ultimately 
go out or die sooner than it would have done if you 
had let it alone and allowed it to run its own course 
and slowly moulder away. It would not have given 
out as much heat as it did when young and fresh, any 
more than an old man will exhibit the mental or physi- 
cal activity or phenomena of his early and mature 
life; but it will live along, slowly nearing the end, 
spark after spark gradually going out, until, finally, but 
the last one remains, when, with a spasmodic flicker or 
two, it ceases to be a thing of light or heat, and all 444 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
within the hearth is black and dead. So it is precisely, 
or, at least, so it should be, with the human body. 
When old age has been reached, the period for cessa- 
tion of great activity, both mental and physical, has 
arrived. The remaining years of life ought to be 
passed in quietude and repose; one ought to realize 
that his system will not now bear the strains and 
demands that were as nothing in mature life, and so 
realizing, ought not to impose these unbearable 
burdens on his organs. 
Again, as old age creeps on, even in ordinarily 
healthy people, there takes place a peculiar degenera- 
tion of the blood vessels, known to physicians as 
“atheromatous degeneration.” A tissue, somewhat 
resembling fat, but more brittle and resisting, is depos- 
ited in the walls of these vessels, taking the place of 
the ordinary, natural muscular and elastic tissue. 
This change renders the vessels less elastic, and 
from this very change serious results may ensue. You 
can realize that you can force a column of liquid two 
inches in diameter through a rubber tube tha,t has only a 
diameter of one inch, because the elastic rubber will 
stretch; but if, instead of rubber, your tube is made of 
leather or some other inelastic material, and you en- 
deavor to pass through it any body of greater diameter 
than itself, it will rupture. The case is identical with the 
blood vessels. If, when they possess their natural and 
healthy elasticity, any great or extra strain is made on 
their calibre, they can dilate and accommodate them- 
selves to it; but when they become hard, unyielding and 
brittle, they will rupture on the slightest strain, and 
give rise to apoplexy, which really means a giving MAINTAIN EQUANIMITY. 
445 
way of a blood vessel and the consequent escape of 
blood into the surrounding tissue. 
A very fast walk or any unusual physical exercise in 
an old person might so increase the force of the heart’s 
action as- to cause it to send the blood with unwonted 
energy against these brittle, chalky vessels, and rup- 
ture them. Any unusual exertion might make a 
demand upon the aged and weakened heart that it 
would be unable to fulfill, when, from sheer exhaustion, 
it would be unable to continue its labor, and death 
would suddenly ensue. 
John Hunter, one of the greatest surgeons of mod- 
ern times, died in this way. He had heart disease, 
and knowing it, was always careful to live an equable, 
quiet life, so as not to put any unnecessary strain on 
this organ. One day he was at a meeting of the au- 
thorities of one of the great London hospitals, when a 
discussion arose; he became very much interested ; 
one of the directors made some remarks opposed to 
his views, and, in the course of his address, made some 
statements that greatly angered Hunter. When an 
opportunity offered, he arose, full of anger, prepared to 
make a most bitter speech; but he had forgotten his 
weakness and his caution. He was excited greatly, 
and so was his heart; it was acting tumultuously; he 
opened his mouth to speak, when he suddenly fell un- 
conscious, and being carried into an adjoining room, 
expired in a few minutes. He had overtaxed his aged 
and weak heart by his excessive emotion, and it had 
given way. 
Realizing, as you now must, how necessary an 
even, quiet, equable existence is at all periods of life, 446 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
in order that you may attain longevity, you will be fully 
prepared to understand that it is infinitely more im- 
portant for the aged, because of the reasons already 
given. 
Indiscretions in eating are much more liable to 
produce diarrhoea and dyspepsia in old persons than 
in those who are young, simply because, in the 
latter class the vital activity of the stomach and bowels 
is so much greater that it can more readily combat 
and disarm the evil results of this indiscretion. 
If you have never thought of it before, after you 
read this chapter, notice how many more old persons 
die in winter (and particularly in the months of No- 
vember and March), than in summer. For years these 
old people have been accustomed to do as they liked 
and when they pleased. Failing to realize what I now 
tell them, about all of their functions getting weaker 
and less active, and their vigor decreasing, they continue 
in this same course. Finally, on some cold blustery day 
in winter, venturing forth, as he or she has done for, 
maybe, seventy years, the frigid air strikes the chest, 
driving the blood from the surface into the lungs, the 
circulation or the blood vessels are too old and weak 
to drive it out again, congestion of the lungs or pneu- 
monia follows, and the whole organization being unable 
to throw off or withstand the violence of the disease, 
death rapidly ensues. 
America’s great poet, Longfellow, recently met his 
death in this way. His organs were all moderately 
healthy; he was an old man, seventy-five, but it would 
seem that he had every right to expect to live for many 
years. Unfortunately, he did not realize that his aged LIVE TEMPERATELY. 
447 
body was in the condition I have been describing; he 
failed to understand that his circulation was aged and 
sluggish, and very impressionable. He attended a 
meeting one raw night in winter, and caught cold. It 
settled on his peritoneum (a thin and very delicate 
and sensitive membrane that lays over and covers the 
bowels like an apron), peritonitis set in (inflammation 
of this membrane), and he died. 
What is generally known as apoplexy, that is, a rup- 
ture of a blood vessel in the brain, occurs exceedingly 
rarelyamong young persons, but is a very common cause 
of death in men over sixty. The blood vessels, becom- 
ing weak by the deposit in their walls of fat, or atheroma, 
as I have described, any indiscretion that will cause the 
blood to be thrown against this weak spot with unusual 
force will rupture it. Thus, any violent emotion, of 
excessive anger, joy, or expectancy, any great exercise, 
mental or physical, any sudden effort, or even great 
straining at the water-closet, may determine apoplexy 
in one predisposed to it by degeneration of the blood 
vessels. 
Realizing these facts, a great poet-physician, now 
over seventy years of age, living in the neighborhood 
of our lamented Longfellow, answering my letter of 
inquiry, already referred to, while refusing to allow me 
to use his name (which I deeply regret, since I am 
sure if you knew who was talking you would be 
much more apt to follow his example, because there is, 
I am confident, but very few intelligent men who have 
not read his beautiful literary productions and to whom 
his name is not as familiar almost as their own), says: 
“ I live temperately, often drink a little beer or wine at 448 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
dinner, avoid what hurts my digestion, keep out of 
draughts as much as possible, dress warmly, live cleanly, 
use no tobacco in any form, arid get along comfortably 
enough for one of my years.” Here we have, briefly 
and tersely stated, the life of a man who has lived long 
enough and worked hard enough to secure an interna- 
tional reputation as a poet, a physician and a prose 
author. 
The same rules of life will apply to old persons that 
I have already .indicated. I could not formulate any 
others. An old man is formed precisely the same as 
a young body or a man in his prime ; the only differ- 
ence being that he is nearer the end of his vital 
resources, and therefore must conserve the vital 
power remaining more carefully; he must make less 
demands upon it and spend it more prudently. 
While he must observe the same rules of life as are 
to be followed by his sons, he must carry them out 
more rigidly. One night of indiscretion may be thor- 
oughly and completely atoned for by the young and 
vigorous man, while it may prove fatal to his grand- 
father. 
Since old persons usually have more judgment and 
are more prone to reason, and oftentimes to receive 
advice, than are the young, who, unfortunately, rashly 
and impulsively, let instinct guide them, and foolishly 
imagine that they know more than their grandfathers, 
this will be an appropriate place to allow the aged to 
commune with each other; so, unlocking the drawer 
in which I keep my pets (as I love to call my corres- 
pondence from the aged men, who, were it for nothing 
but their great age, would be entitled to great respect), PERSONAL ILLUSTRATIONS. 
449 
I will here transcribe some of these valuable letters 
from gentlemen whose age and experience entitle their 
words to great consideration from all who desire to 
attain great longevity. 
To commence, I will furnish the letter from my old- 
est correspondent on the roll of honor, Henry 
Imhoff, of Richmond, Indiana, who has attained the 
wonderful age of 105 years. His relatives answer my 
letter of inquiry as follows; I will furnish the reply 
verbatim:— 
Richmond, Nov. 17th, 1880. 
Dr. Edwards:— 
Dear Sir:—In reply to your letter, we will give you 
a few items of grandfather’s life:— 
1. Born in the year 1775, on the 16th day of July, 
and is at present enjoying good health. 
2. His mother died young, at the age of about 
forty. 
3. His children are well and in good health. 
4. He was raised in a country village, working 
on farms and doing general hard work. At the age 
of twenty-one he was enrolled in the French army of 
Napoleon I, and remained in the army until the 
period of Napoleon’s downfall. 
5. He has always been very temperate and very 
headstrong; never has been and still is not afraid of 
anything. 
6. He has always used tobacco, chewing and 
smoking, and still uses it. In Germany he would 
always and every day take, once or twice, a drink of 
liquor, and this habit he still continues, although the 
quantity has been reduced to a very small drink. 450 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
7. He has been always accustomed to hard work, up 
to within the past ten years. 
8. Has always enjoyed good health. 
9. He has used coffee and tea for the past thirty 
years in this country, but in Germany he mostly drank 
milk and water. 
10. He has always been somewhat careful of his 
diet; vegetable soup has been a great favorite. 
11. In his younger days he was never particular 
about his hours for sleep ; now he retires at 7 p. m. 
and arises at 7 a. m. 
12. He has never given much thought to his health. 
13. His constitution and nature was and is rough and 
robust. In his young days he was very strong, with 
coarse features, and while in Germany lived very 
purely. He never cared whether he worked day or 
night, or both. He has raised a family of nine chil- 
dren, all of whom enjoy good health, are of very vig- 
orous constitution, heavily built, and of good weight. 
Yours truly, 
(Signed) Henry Imhoff. 
We have here more of a curiosity than a lesson. 
This venerable man no doubt inherited such an im- 
mense amount of vital force that he would have lived 
to old age without any care. As you can see by this 
letter, he has evidently never given a second thought 
to himself, but has lived as nature dictated, and owing 
to his inherent vigor has reached a great age; now, he 
is somewhat more careful, but this is merely because 
his failing strength make the performances of his earlier 
years impossible. Had he lived in early life as I de- 
sire to teach you to live, this exceptional man might be, PERSONAL ILLUSTRATIONS. 
451 
even to-day, as vigorous as an ordinary man of fifty or 
sixty. This good gentleman is a perfect illustration of 
what great hereditary vigor can do, in spite of neglect 
of care ; but we must not draw deductions from such 
rare cases. They happen but seldom, and since I am 
trying to formulate laws for the guidance of the 
majority, I deem it unwise to reason from the expe- 
rience of the minority. Again, we must conclude, from 
what Mr. Imhoff tells us, that his life has been devoted 
principally to physical exertion; in him we do not see 
that glorious medium between physical and intellec- 
tual excess that our next correspondent will furnish. 
This letter comes from the honorable and venerable 
Eli K. Price, to whom I have already had occasion to 
refer. 
This gentleman, who is still as active as when he 
wrote to me, and who seems to bid fair to live for 
many years, writes as follows :— 
Philadelphia, September 2 2d, 1880. 
Dear Sir:—I embrace the first leisure to answer 
your queries under date of 15th instant. 
1. My father died in his 74th year, of (2) pleurisy. 
3. My mother died in her 85th year, of (4) diarrhoea. 
5. I am not aware that I inherited a predisposition 
to any disease. 
6. I was born in the country, and did farm work and 
rode horses, from my earliest capability until 14 years 
of age, getting several months’ schooling each year, 
and then was a year at West Town boarding school 
continuously. 
7. My temperament was sanguine and enterprising, 
but qualified by caution. 452 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
8. My only training was physical, but with an ardent 
desire to acquire knowledge, and for this I lost no 
opportunity. 
9. I never used alcohol or tobacco. 
10. My whole life’s occupation has been an alterna- 
tion of mental and physical exercise, desisting from the 
former whenever I felt it necessary, and sometimes as 
compelled by disease induced by prostration, from ex- 
cess of application to sedentary study. 
11. I have not had much sickness, but have many 
times been ill from excess in study, breathing bad air, 
with chills and fever, and summer diarrhoea. These 
compelled rest, which I most needed, and my recu- 
perations have been to a higher point of health, even to 
the present year, when near 83 years old, of course, 
allowing for the abated strength of old age. 
12. I have used, through life, coffee at breakfast, tea 
at tea; but this I am able to do by keeping up my 
physical strength. 
13. I have been careful of my diet, but not dainty or 
fastidious; I have eaten to live with a comfortable 
stomach and a clear intellect, and have constantly 
watched these indexes. I am as watchful as to my food 
as is the smelter of iron that his furnace shall not chill 
and choke ; and regulate my food to prevent constipa- 
tion or laxity, rather than to resort to medicine, which 
I avoid using until necessary; and in illness, act in 
strict obedience to my chosen physician of regular 
graduation. 
14. I go to bed soon after ten o’clock, and of re- 
cent time use the early morning light rather than the 
gas in the owly night. As other old persons, I am apt to PERSONAL ILLUSTRATIONS. 
453 
wake before day; and that I may not toss wearily, I 
rise, wash my face, brush my body and comb my hair. 
I then rest pleasantly; the chain of unpleasant dreams 
is broken, and often I have a sweet and refreshing 
morning slumber. 
We groom our horses better than ourselves, as we 
select our stock with more care than the mothers or 
husbands who shall be parents of our children, to bear 
our names and become heirs of our estates. 
As we grow older, and the circulation becomes 
slower, as does the digestion, we are more liable to 
unpleasant dreams ; we need such relief, and at the 
same time we get Franklin's Air Bath. 
15. My constitution was, naturally, neither robust 
nor delicate; I was, as a boy and young man, tall, 
straight and lithe; but made myself delicate, by a too 
studious and sedentary life; and regained my health 
by taking the lessons taught by experience. 
16. With the exceptions already given, I have been 
careful of my health. I hold it to be a sacred principle, 
that we have no right to mar or shorten the Creator’s 
highest gift to man, his health and life; no; neither 
the professional nor the scientific student, nor even 
the religious preacher, has the right to do this. I 
confess to having done this at times; have been 
prostrated; have fallen senseless on the floor; but have 
generally, as far as practicable, avoided long trials in 
the crowded court room. 
17. I give you my age, when I say I was born July 
20th, 1797. 
18. You ask any other information which may be of 
service to your work, and ask the use of my name as, 454 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
an example that may influence others. As such, I 
would say, that I might probably have greater length 
of life, if I had been less laborious ; and the problem of 
greatest longevity, I apprehend, would be better filled 
by one less anxiously laborious. Yet active intellectual 
labor and hopefulness of success are undoubtedly very 
important means. And here let me not take to my- 
self merit that does not belong to me. I am largely 
what I am because George Fox and his associates 
founded, under God, the Society of Friends, and Wil- 
liam Penn established the Colony of Pennsylvania. 
Two of my ancestors came with the latter, in “ The 
Welcome,” in his first voyage to his Province, and the 
first settlers of every line of my ancestry before the 
second voyage, or within twenty years from 1682; 
and these and all their generations, down to me, 
were Friends; and that is to say all were tem- 
perate, moral and religious, with unimpaired constitu- 
tions. Yet more, I was checked and overruled by an 
unseen but surely-felt power; and every illness I 
endured was a lesson and a blessing in disguise, but 
with purpose of good. I am, respectfully, 
(Signed) Eli K. Price. 
To Dr. J. F. Edwards. 
SECOND LETTER FROM ELI K. PRICE. 
Philadelphia, October, 5th, 1880. 
Dear Sir:—Further reflection convinces me that I 
should add to the answer I have made to your inquiries. 
My food is always good, of easy digestion, and nourish- 
ing, though simple, taken at regular hours, dividing the 
day nearly equally, and all meals in moderation. I drink PERSONAL ILLUSTRATIONS. 
455 
pure water, breathe pure air, sleep in a cold chamber, 
with free admission of fresh air, and under warm covers, 
according to the temperature. I clothe myself warmly, 
wear flannel from neck to feet, and that all the year, 
changing the outward clothing as often as the weather 
changes. I bathe as required for cleanliness, but do 
not tarry in the warm bath, which is weakening. 
I avoid excitement of mind as much as practicable, 
though earnest in business and taking a lively interest 
in all material improvements and scientific progress, in 
all that concerns legislation, judicial decisions, and the 
welfare of my country and the world. I read many 
newspapers and periodicals. I yet examine titles, give 
legal opinions, and in public institutions, act as a Park 
Commissioner, and gather acorns, tree seeds and trees 
for its nurseries. I also keep a general survey over 
my real estate. 
A tranquil mind I find a requisite to health and 
longevity, and that the mind may be stayed in a firm 
tranquillity, I have found a firm faith in an over- 
ruling Providence essential. My religious belief, 
inductively formed, has all the conviction of my 
understanding, as strong as that in all established 
scientific truths. All truths have come from the Crea- 
tor, and all are His. God’s attributes of might, jus- 
tice and love we must logically believe, and without 
these and His absolute goodness, we must infer Him 
and His creation to be failures. It is in believing Him 
to have these attributes; in believing that He appeared 
in Christ to save immortal souls, and for that visits 
them, we can endure, and only so endure, the suffer- 
ings incident to life with firmness and equanimity; 456 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
often emerging from afflictions with safety where 
others fail; and thus fortified, we may humbly hope 
and expect to reach the end in a faith that will be sus- 
taining, and to pass into happiness, not less, but the 
greater for that well doing which has made this life 
happy. Possibly, however, the mind may be clouded 
by disease, or sunk in apathy at the transition, and ex- 
press no manifestation of joyful prospect; yet all will 
be well; and if then shall come repentance for mis- 
deeds, with contrition, yet will also come pardon. 
This consummation, I now state with confidence, and 
not inconsiderately, as having the most important rele- 
vancy to your inquiries. True, I have not reached the 
last experience, which is death; but I have witnessed 
many of my most beloved pass away, bearing testi- 
mony to survivors of what they felt and saw as they 
entered the dawn of another world, whose light is from 
God. 
Some hours of every week, for twenty years, have, 
with pen in hand, been devoted to the study of the 
being of God, His attributes, and the significance of 
His works, of the nature and import of our being and 
destiny, until the product has become voluminous. 
Hence, I speak with the confidence of the absolute con- 
viction that has sustained me through nearly all of life, 
that man has the help of a care and strength greater 
than his own, and that, unless his mind be eclipsed 
by disease, he will be so sustained in the transition 
to another life. With such faith and “ a love that 
casteth out fear,” trials melt away before us; we live 
through them, and see them as clouds that have passed, 
dispensing blessings, and in a hopeful confidence in PERSONAL illustrations. 
457 
God’s care and love, we live longer, better and hap- 
pier, and even in death know a triumphant joy. 
Truly, 
(Signed) Eli K. Price. 
Here we have presented the sentiments and prac- 
tices of an aged man who has passed through a singu- 
larly useful and thoughtful life. This man has endeav- 
ored, as we can see, to learn how he ought to live, 
and has tried to conform to this knowledge. I can 
assure you that I see him on the street every day, and 
that he seems and looks to me as though he might live 
for many years. 
As an evidence of the power of inherent vitality and 
of English curtness, I might quote the following letter:— 
Tower Grove Park, St. Louis, Dec. 3d, 1880. 
Dr. Edwards:— 
Dear Sir:—Without going into the particulars you 
require in regard to longevity, and which, when faith- 
fully related, would demonstrate nothing, and for which 
I have neither the time or the inclination, may be sum- 
marily stated, in saying that my 80 years have been 
spent in a life of activity and temperance, but not ab- 
stemiousness ; born in England, and 60 years a resi- 
dent of St. Louis. Yours very respectfully, 
(Signed) Henry Shaw. 
You will notice here two points which our conserva- 
tive, aged friend mentions, namely, activity and temper- 
ance. I have already dilated on them. By temper- 
ance, such a man means not only moderation in drink- 
ing, but moderation in everything. By activity, he means 
a fair and reasonable amount of exercise of all his func- 
tions, both mental and physical. 458 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
An interesting letter was received from that old 
veteran, Thurlow Weed, which reads as follows:— 
New York, March 26th, 1880. 
Dear Sir:—My reply to yours of yesterday will 
prove a disappointment. There is, I fear, very little in 
my long experience to aid the work you have in hand. 
For more than sixty years I was too busy to give time 
or thought to the vital questions you are considering. 
When, twelve years ago, my health became seriously 
impaired, my attention was called to the causes, and to 
such changes as promised alleviation. The first step 
was to give up cigar smoking, an inveterate habit of 
more than fifty years’ standing. I then endeavored to 
conform my diet, exercise, etc., etc., to the laws regu- 
lating health. While I have profited in health by the 
care and thought rendered necessary by a long disre- 
gard of such considerations, I attribute length of days 
and a large measure of health much more to the good- 
ness and mercy of God, than to any personal influ- 
ences. I may add that I think that longevity is largely 
dependent upon inheritance. Some constitutions will 
endure, however recklessly abused, while in other cases 
every prudential care and the strictest observance of 
all laws fail to impart health or long life. A Herald 
reporter conversed with me on this subject two or 
three days ago. I enclose a printed copy. 
Truly yours, 
(Signed) Thurlow Weed. 
Since this interview is very interesting, and since it 
is well for all to have some knowledge of the mode 
of life pursued by our very aged citizens, particularly 
THURLOW WEED. PERSONAL ILLUSTRATIONS. 
459 
by those who, having themselves passed the hey-day 
of maturity and activity, are descending the hill of life, 
rendering it necessary to put on brakes in order that 
this descent may not be unnecessarily rapid, I will 
quote from it very extensively. The paper is the New 
York Herald’ and the date is Thursday, March 25, 
1880. It says, “ Mr. Thurlow Weed returned to his 
home, in this city, yesterday morning, from Albany, 
where he had inducted the Evening Journal into its 
fifty-first year. He speaks with animation of his flying 
visit to the scene of his earlier career of usefulness, 
and is heartier and more buoyant for the brief vacation 
from his literary labors at home. ‘ The occasion and 
the familiar room and chair,’ the venerable journalist, 
diplomatist, and philomath said, in describing his feel- 
ings while he sat, on Monday last, in the editorial chair 
of the Albany Evening Journal, and was dictator there 
for the day, ‘brought a rush of memories that were full 
of interest; memories of the time (1834) when the Whig 
party was organized, and the Journal became that 
party’s recognized organ; memories of the Journal's 
opponents, whom it styled the ‘Albany Regency,’ 
among whom were Martin Van Buren, William L. 
Marcy, Benjamin F. Butler, Thomas W. Olcott, John 
A. Dix, Azariah C. Flagg, and Silas Wright, with Ed- 
win Crosswell, who was then State Printer, as the 
editor of their organ ; memories that were variegated 
by the constant flow in upon me, while I sat again in the 
old editorial chair, of old and valued friends, whom I had 
not seen for many years; memories saddened some- 
what by the thinning out of those friends by the hand 
of death; memories of those of the Journal's friends 460 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
whose work is done, among them William H. Seward, 
Washington Hunt, John A. King, John A. Dix, Henry 
J. Raymond, Millard Fillmore, Horace Greeley, Gulian 
C. Verplanck, Ogden Hoffman, John A. Griswold and 
Moses H. Grinnell; memories to which even a sadder 
tinge was added by the death, while I sat once more 
in the editorial chair, of Mr. Van Buren’s friend, 
Thomas W. Olcott, who, as this morning’s Herald 
truly says, might have been Secretary of the Treasury 
under Lincoln. 
“‘Fifty years ago we got news from New York by 
steamboat, in twelve hours, but while I sat in the edi- 
tor’s chair in the Journal's office, on Monday, the news 
was flashed to us from all parts of the world, and from 
the Eastern hemisphere, ahead of time.’ 
“Mr. Weed went to his stateroom in a North River 
steamboat on Monday night, at his usual hour for re- 
tiring, but not to sleep as though he had been at home. 
It was not the jarring machinery that kept him awake, 
but the memories of the villages and cities he was 
passing. ‘ Although I could not see them,’ he said, ‘ I 
knew them by the time. I remembered them as they 
were when I was employed as a cabin boy in a North 
River sloop, in 1806 or 1807, and when we required 
from three days to a week to make the trip. Then the 
city of Hudson was engaged in whaling; I have seen 
three or four whale ships at Hudson’s wharves simul- 
taneously. Think of whalers sailing up to Hudson 
now. Then, there is the flourishing village of Athens, 
in those times the mere hamlet of Lunenberg; and 
now we passed East and West Camp, the Emboch and 
other towns with primitive names, that are now Bristol, PERSONAL ILLUSTRATIONS. 
461 
Tivoli, Barrytown, etc. I got only three hours’ sleep, 
my brain was so busy with the scenes that the boat 
was passing—a boat that frightened nobody now. You 
have not read that everybody north of Spuyten Duyvil 
Creek was frightened when Robert Fulton’s ‘ Clermont’ 
ploughed her way up the Hudson, vomiting smoke and 
fire, and with uncovered paddle-wheels, moved by no 
visible agency. I recalled it while I lay in my state- 
room on Monday night. Poor Fulton ! it is a disgrace 
to the country that his remains should lie in a private 
tomb down town, with not so much as the word “ Ful- 
ton ” to mark his last resting place. I awoke at my 
usual hour, as much refreshed as though I had slept 
at home.’” 
These reminiscences of this veteran have been 
transcribed for a purpose. It must be delightful, and 
must surely afford him incalculable pleasure in his old 
age, to look back over the long journey he has trav- 
eled so well, and many a pleasant hour can he pass in 
reflection. Such a blessing can fall to the lot of every 
man or woman who will live as they ought, and if there 
were no others, this one inducement should be enough 
to make all desire to attain old age, and so live as to 
make its attainment possible. 
“ You live very methodically, I have been told,” said 
the reporter; “are you conscious of any symptoms of 
indigestion and its inevitable derangement of the 
system, after a journey in which you must change your 
diet.” ‘I ate nothing in the steamboat, and my 
daughter in Albany, whose house is my home when I 
go up the river, twice a year, knows my regimen so 
accurately, that when I sit down at her table everything 462 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
is as I have it in New York. I fancy that my regular- 
ity has prolonged my life.’ 
“ Do you use intoxicating liquors?” 
“ ‘ In my early life, as an editor, I drank sparingly of 
champagne at dinners, now and then, but only occa- 
sionally and socially; and when, in 1845, I went to the 
West Indies, for my daughter’s health, I acquired a 
taste for the fine old Santa Cruz rum that the planters 
brewed for home use. It is not sold over the bars. I 
have some of it on hand, and every night, before going 
to bed, I drink a little of it, mixed with Vichy. I think 
it does me good. I drink no intoxicating liquor at any 
other time, although I have a cellar full of wine. I used 
to go out a great deal, but since I had a sunstroke, 
about twelve years ago, I have declined all dinners and 
evening receptions. I smoked tobacco—the best mild 
Havana cigars—for more than fifty years, but I used 
the weed in no other form. Thirteen years ago my 
physician warned me that tobacco was affecting my 
nervous system, and thereupon I burned ?ny cigar 
boxes. I used no substitute, and a fortnight later I 
forgot my smoking. From that time i wrote with 
GREATER FACILITY.’ 
MR. WEED’S ROUTINE. 
“The well-preserved old gentleman readily complied 
when requested to recite the routine of a man who, 
having lived to be eighty-two, knows how to live. ‘ Be- 
fore my morning meal, at eight o’clock,’ he said, ‘ I eat 
either one-half of a large apple or an orange from my 
daughter’s orange grove in Florida, rejecting the pulp. 
At breakfast I have oatmeal, the yolk of hard-boiled 
eggs, a piece of toast, the best kind of English break- PERSONAL ILLUSTRATIONS. 
463 
fast tea, and certain kinds of fish in season, such as 
Spanish mackerel, which I esteem a delicacy, and 
porgies. Sometimes I have cold roast beef, or a saddle 
of mutton, and at least once a week—for breakfast, 
on Sunday usually—corned beef hash. A light lunch- 
eon is served at one o’clock, and sometimes I eat a 
slice of cold corned beef, or of cold mutton, but always 
bread, about the equivalent of corn bread—we call 
them buttered gems—and sometimes at this luncheon 
we have sardines. Cold water is the only liquid on the 
table at that hour. At six o’clock I have always fish, 
of whatever kind may be in season. For fifteen years 
I have eaten no dessert of any kind except a little 
fruit.’ 
“ Mr. Weed is out of bed at seven every morning, 
and after breakfast he enters upon his literary labors. 
In the afternoon he sits in his well-stocked library and 
chats with friends until tea-time, and then he chats with 
friends until ten o’clock. Then he goes to his room, 
and either his daughter or another member of the fam- 
ily reads Dickens, Thackeray or Scott or some other 
author, for an hour and a quarter; then prayer is read 
from the Rev. Ashton Oxenden’s ‘ Prayers for Pri- 
vate Use,’ and at a quarter past eleven the veteran 
drinks a glass of Santa Cruz rum and Vichy and goes 
to bed. His sleep is almost uniformly refreshing. 
“ In relation to his interest in the temperance cause, 
Mr. Weed said: ‘ I am with those who seek to mitigate 
the evils of intemperance, for while human nature is 
what it is, all prohibitory laws must fail. A like vigor 
of effort in another direction would yield good results. 
If I were a younger man, I would labor to make ours 464 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
a great grape-growing country, so that wine might be 
as cheap as cider, and I would impose an almost pro- 
hibitive tariff upon imported and distilled liquors. I 
would strive to make our country what France is—a 
sober country.’ ” 
These views and these facts must possess interest. 
Remember that they come from a man who is now 
eighty-four years old and who is known all over the 
world. What he says, he says from experience ; what 
he does, he does because he has found it to be the 
right thing to do. It is a pity that such a man does 
not enter more fully and more minutely into the de- 
tails of the life which he has outlined, but by carefully 
considering what he has said we can learn many valu- 
able lessons. 
My aged friends will now hear from Mr. W. W. 
Corcoran, the world-famed philanthropist, of Washing- 
ton, D. C.— 
mr. corcoran’s letter. 
Washington, Oct. 7th, 1880. 
Dr. J. F. Edwards :— 
Dear Sir:—As the confidential agent of Mr. Cor- 
coran, I have received your communication of the 3d, 
containing questions in regard to his health, manner 
of life, etc., from boyhood to the present period. 
Allow me to say that it is very difficult to return 
categorical answers to these specific interrogatories ; 
but if it will in any degree serve to promote the 
object contemplated by you, I cheerfully submit the 
following statement:— 
Mr. C. was born in Georgetown, D. C., and inher- 
ited no “ predisposition to any disease.” His occupa- PERSONAL ILLUSTRATIONS. 
tion through life has been sometimes active and some- 
times sedentary. He has never used tobacco, but has 
occasionally indulged in the moderate use of wine. His 
constitution was naturally robust, and he has nevef 
been very particular in the adoption of prophylactic 
(disease preventing) measures. In 1871 he had a 
severe attack of erysipelas, and he is now 82 years of 
age and in good health. 
Very respectfully yours, 
(Signed) A. Hyde. 
We will now hear from an old veteran who has 
been already mentioned, and who certainly enjoyed 
the pleasures of life as well as any man who ever lived. 
I mean General Robert Patterson, of Philadelphia. 
GENERAL PATTERSON’S LETTER. 
1300 Locust St., Philada., Sept, nth, 1880. 
Dr. J. F. Edwards :— 
Dear Sir:—Your note of 9th is received, and in 
compliance with your request I enclose answers to 
your seventeen inquiries, and hope they may be of 
service, as your object is a good one. 
I remain, with great respect, truly yours, 
(Signed) R. Patterson. 
1. The age of my father at the time of his death was 
eighty-five. 
2. The cause of death was advanced age. 
3. The age of my mother at the time of her death 
was ninety. 
4. Old age. 
5. I did not inherit a predisposition to disease; on 
30 
ANSWERS. 466 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
the contrary, I inherited a vigorous constitution, with 
excellent health. 
6. I was raised in the country, a farmer’s son; rose 
at daylight, if not sooner; took much physical exercise 
constantly in the open air. 
7. My temperament was very sanguine ; of good 
disposition if not annoyed. 
8. Early education partook of the physical more 
than the mental, but I had a good Scotch-Irish mother 
who kept my mental faculties under sufficient culture. 
9. I have rarely used alcohol, but am accustomed to 
the use of good wines at my dinner. Have never used 
tobacco, and consider its use as exceedingly pernicious 
to health. 
10. Of late years my business occupation has been 
sedentary, but my habits have always been very active, 
always having been fond of and following the sports of 
the chase. 
11. Have suffered very little from sickness; had 
once a severe attack of pneumonia. 
12. I have always used a moderate cup of coffee at 
breakfast and of tea at supper. 
13. I am not particularly careful of my diet, but 
avoid that which I learn from experience to be hurtful. 
14. I usually retire to rest about iop. m. and rise 
about 5 a. m. ; of late years I do not rise so early in 
winter. 
15. I have not always been careful of my health, and 
have “ roughed it” in all weather. 
16. My constitution is naturally robust. 
17. I was eighty-eight years of age January 12th, 
1880. PERSONAL ILLUSTRATIONS. 
467 
Richmond, Ind., Eleventh month, 5th, 1880. 
Dr. J. F. Edwards:— 
Dear Friend:—Thy letter of the 2d inst. is at hand, 
and as thee is desirous of obtaining some information 
for thy proposed work, “ How We Ought to Live,” so far 
as I am concerned thee is welcome to all I am able to 
contribute in that direction. I think it a praiseworthy 
undertaking, and hope thy efforts may be crowned 
with success. 
1. Seventy-two years; natural decline of age; a 
little dyspeptic. 
2. Seventy-one years ; natural decline of age. 
3. I know of no such predisposition. 
4. Raised on a farm, helped to clear my father’s 
land, and have ever since lived on the same farm and 
followed the business of farming. 
5. Somewhat bilious. 
6. Smoked a little in middle life; never used alco- 
holic drinks. 
7. Always active. 
8. Have never been so but what I could get up and 
dress myself every morning, in seventy years. 
9. For many years have used coffee once a day. 
10. My diet has been, and still is, plain, wholesome 
food. 
11. “ Early to bed and early to rise.” 
12. I have. 
13. Moderately robust. 
14. Eighty-two next Christmas. 
15. I do. 
LETTER FROM CORNELIUS RATLIFF. 468 
how we ought to live. 
16. American—born in North Carolina. 
Truly thy friend, 
(Signed) Cornelius Ratliff, Sen. 
A VERY INTERESTING LETTER FROM A PHYSICIAN. 
Portsmouth, Ohio, Nov. 29th, 1881. 
Dr. Edwards:— 
My Dear Doctor:—I should have answered your 
letter immediately upon its reception, but I was con- 
fined to my bed by an attack of hepatic calculi (gall 
stone), and as soon as relieved, your letter was the 
first to receive attention. I consider your subject one 
of vast importance, for I know of no reason why a 
man’s life may not be extended to 100 years as well as 
to 70 or 80. 
To your first and second questions, I reply: My 
father died at the age of sixty years (a hale, active 
man), of typhoid pneumonia; my mother at fifty-two, 
of yellow fever, both at Marietta, Ohio. 
2. I know of no inherited disease, as both parents 
were, at the time of their attacks, hale, hearty and 
active. From my maternal grandfather I inherited a 
gouty diathesis (a tendency to gout), but coming to 
Ohio in my early youth, in pioneer times, when the 
predisposing and exciting causes of that disease were 
few and far between, the disease was never developed. 
I was born in New London, Connecticut, on June 8th, 
1794, and raised at Marietta, Ohio. I was, from 
necessity, compelled to a sedentary life in my early 
days. My mind was not active to acquire knowledge, 
and consequently I was forced to spend many hours at 
my books while my companions were at play; this lack 
of exercise induced dyspepsia, from which I suffered PERSONAL ILLUSTRATIONS. 
469 
from my earliest recollection till I was engaged in the 
practice of medicine in a sparsely settled territory, 
comprising thirty miles in circuit every way. In a new 
country of this extent many hardships had to be en- 
countered ; swimming creeks, facing all kinds of 
weather, and traveling all varieties of roads. 
My daily rides were from ten to twenty-five miles, 
AND I SOON BID ADIEU TO EVERYTHING IN THE SHAPE OF 
INDIGESTION, AND BECAME VERY ROBUST. 
During the prevalence of an epidemic fever I fre- 
quently rode forty miles in the forenoon, changed 
horses and rode forty miles in the afternoon. Such 
was the stamina this exercise produced, that I escaped 
the epidemic entirely, while all others were its victims. 
With this health I feared nothing and avoided nothing. 
In early life, while in Connecticut, I was of the sanguine 
temperament, but the malarious valley of the Ohio 
soon changed it to the bilious, with all that term 
implies. 
I have been through all the phases of the tobacco 
question. At the age of thirteen years I commenced 
chewing and smoking, and continued both twenty-nine 
years, then dropped chewing and continued smoking 
twenty-three years, making in all fifty-two years, and 
in that time I used snuff eleven years. At the age 
of sixty four years I quit all tobacco, and in that year 
put on twenty five pounds in weighty and have been 
steadily increasing until now. I weigh two hundred 
pounds. (This is worthy of note, since, ordinarily, old 
people gradually decline in weight.) 
In the use of alcohol, I have not been quite as ex- 
travagant as in the use of tobacco, though my experi- 470 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
ence is not very limited. I am satisfied that alcohol is 
antagonistic to the poison of tobacco, and he who uses 
the latter to excess must naturally fall into the use of 
the former or suffer from the toxic (poisonous) effects 
of the latter. 
I was never intoxicated, but was for more than 
twenty years an habitual drinker ; for the last twenty- 
four or twenty-five years have touched not, tasted not, 
handled not, or, ever since I quit the use of tobacco. 
Of course, my life, until the last twenty-four years, 
was a very laborious and active one, but for the last 
twenty-four years I have been a close student, and my 
habits sedentary; which accounts for the hepatic 
(liver) derangement under which I have suffered for 
the last ten or fifteen years. All my early life, till the 
age of twenty-five, I was a dyspeptic. In that time I 
passed through five years of intermittent seasoning of 
the country; have had two attacks of typho-malarial 
fever, the last in 1824, when I was thirty years old. 
Since that time I have had excellent health, except in 
the last few years of sedentary life, in which I have had 
frequent passages of gall stones through the common 
duct. These, for the last few years, have been attended 
with less pain and nausea than formerly. I should 
mention here, that in the last ten years I have been 
troubled with epithelioma (a form of cancer) on the 
cheek and ear; the former has been healed about four 
years, the latter is now under treatment and is im- 
proving. 
My maternal grandfather, when a young man, had 
an epithelial cancer removed from his lip, with no re- 
turn of that disease except a horny growth between PERSONAL ILLUSTRATIONS. 
471 
his thumb and forefinger, giving no trouble, but at the 
age of eighty years he concluded to have it removed; 
a quack was employed and the old gentleman died. 
Until I was sixty-eight years of age I used very 
sparingly tea and coffee, but under protest. Since 
then, I have refrained from both, and use milk; if I 
cannot get this, I use water, and find great benefit from 
the change in many ways. 
Since I ceased to be a dyspeptic, I have not had 
much regard to my diet; eating those things which I 
relished best, and always stopping with a good appe- 
tite and relish for my food. A few minutes after eating, 
I have frequently been at a loss to call to mind what 
has constituted my meal. 
I have all my life been an early riser; retiring at 9 
o’clock, p. m., and during my college life rising at 2 
a. m. During my professional life I retired at the same 
hour and rose at 4 a. m. ; which is my present habit. I 
find seven hours, with a short nap after dinner, quite 
sufficient for all purposes of rest. 
I have never saved myself in any way or at any 
time. In the last few years I have been more careful 
of sudden changes; fearing bronchitis, which has been 
the bane of many of my ancestors. I wear no under- 
clothing except a low temperature seems to call for 
it, and as soon as the thermometer rises throw it off. 
I have a fine physical organization, from a race of 
long-lived ancestors, but it was late in being developed, 
for lack of proper exercise. * In addition to a good 
physical organization I had, fortunately, a conservative 
engineer to run it. If a difficulty could be overcome, 
it was done; if not, thrown over the left shoulder and 472 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
passed by. I've never cried for spilled milk. There 
never was any fret or worry in my composition. I 
completed my 87th year on the 8th day of June last. 
I am considered unusually vigorous and healthy for 
a man of my age ; strangers say I would pass for a 
man twenty years younger than I am. My ancestors 
were English ; I am a full-blooded Puritan Yankee, and 
I am proud of it. 
I have questioned a number of aged persons in re- 
gard to their habits and their ways; in but one thing 
do I find them in full accord; that is, they were “Early 
to bed and early to rise.” 
Respectfully yours, 
(Signed) G. S. B. Hempstead. 
From this communication of the experience of a 
very old man we learn some lessons. We find that 
after many years he found it advisable to abandon the 
use of tobacco and alcohol. You may say that it took 
him a good many years to find this out, and that if 
these two articles are poisons, they must be very slow 
in their action, since he has used them for so many 
years and yet is such an old man. But he did find it 
out from his own experience, and then abandoned both. 
Since you know that the old man is formed just the 
same and is subject to the same fundamental laws of 
health as the young man, the same things that will be 
injurious to the one must be detrimental to the other; 
of course, you can understand that the young and 
vigorous man can more successfully combat and van- 
quish evil influences that will prove more dangerous to 
the aged and weak man; but at the same time, that 
which will affect the one will likewise influence the PERSONAL ILLUSTRATIONS. 
473 
other, though in different degrees. Therefore, if cer- 
tain things are injurious to an old man, the same will 
also injure a young man, but their evil influences will 
be less felt at the time, because, as you can under- 
stand, the physical power, the vital force, or vigor of 
the young man is so great that he can throw them off. 
To make, again, a commonplace illustration: Sup- 
pose a man with one hundred thousand dollars invests 
ten thousand in some venture that will prove disastrous. 
Suppose he buys a property and pays ten thousand 
dollars for it, when, to the judgment of older and more 
experienced men, it is going to depreciate in value; 
now, in two or three years he may have to sell for 
eight thousand. If he learns from experience, and 
does not make the same mistake a second time, this 
first loss will not prove very disastrous, and he will be 
able to hold his principal, with only a small reduction 
of its original proportions. But suppose he keeps on 
buying for ten what he will be compelled to sell for 
eight thousand; his capital will soon become exhaust- 
ed, and he will early die pecuniarily. On the other 
hand, suppose a man with one hundred thousand dol- 
lars has been for years gradually spending this money, 
until he only has a few thousands left; let him now 
make one of these unfortunate investments and he is 
ruined. The want of judgment has acted just the same 
on the small as on the large capital, but the former has 
not been able to stand the same demand that the latter 
can ; the exaction is too great and the financially weak 
man collapses. So it is with vital force. If a young 
man has, say, one hundred parts of vital force, it will 
last him a certain time. Suppose it requires one por- 474 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
tion of this force to maintain life for one year; then, 
under ordinary circumstances, he can live for one hun- 
dred years. But if he uses up two or three parts of 
this force in one year, by living recklessly, he will not 
feel or appreciate the unnatural demand at the time, 
because he has a large stock behind, but he is none 
the less surely consuming or wasting the power that 
he will want later on. If, then, he uses seventy parts in 
twenty-five years, common sense will teach that he has 
only thirty parts left, and if, by great care, he now uses 
only one part in a year, he can only live thirty years. 
If, again, with only thirty parts remaining, he continues 
reckless, it is evident that he can only live ten years, 
and so on. 
I do not mean to enunciate the figures I have given 
above as absolute rules. I merely use them to make 
familiar to your minds the fact that an old man must be 
more careful than a young man, because he has less 
vital power; while at the same time I desire you to 
realize that injudicious or dangerous living really has 
just as much evil influence on the young man, but that 
he fails to realize it because he possesses such a large 
capital. All this talk really means that what old men 
have found by experience to be injurious to them, 
young men must be told in plain words will be and is 
actually equally detrimental to their long life. 
If these aged individuals (who have, only after many 
years of experience, learned what they ought and 
what they ought not to do), had known, in youth, how 
to live, they might and most probably would have 
attained even a greater degree of longevity than has 
been vouchsafed to them. PERSONAL ILLUSTRATIONS. 
475 
So that, realizing myself, and hoping that I have 
made clear to you the fact, that what old persons have 
found to be right is not only applicable to octo- 
genarians, but also to the young, I will go on and 
furnish some more letters:— 
Office of R. C. & W. B. Gregory, 
Attorneys-at-Law, National State Bank Building, 
La Fayette, Ind., Nov. 21st, 1881. 
Dear Sir:—In answer to your circular, I say that 
my father was sixty-three years of age at the time of 
his death. He was a robust man, but contracted the 
black vomit (yellow fever) in Central America, and 
died there, in 1843. My mother died with malarial 
fever when she was sixty-eight years old. I inherited 
no disease from my parents; they were both robust, 
and naturally enjoyed good health. I am of sanguine, 
bilious temperament. I never used tobacco in any 
form. In early life, until about twenty-two years of 
age, I used alcoholic drinks, such as whisky, brandy, 
wine and beer. I then became a total abstainer, and 
continued to be such until I was fifty-five years of age, 
at which time I commenced the moderate use of whisky, 
wine and beer. I never was a drunkard, or indulged 
in sprees, but drank regularly every day. In early life 
I lived and worked on a farm, from the time I was 
fifteen years old until I was twenty-six. I was a clerk 
in a store and a merchant. I have since been a law 
student, a lawyer and a judge. I have not taken 
much exercise, my profession requiring all my time. 
During the six years I was judge I took very little 
exercise, but devoted my entire time to my duties. 
For some five or six years, in early life, I was sick 476 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
most of the time with fever and ague; since then, with 
the exception of a few times, my health has been good. 
For the last few years I have had rheumatism. I have 
used coffee all my life, but not tea. I am not careful 
of my diet; I eat too fast and too much, and pay the 
penalty of sour stomach. 
In late years I sleep ten hours, keeping regular 
habits; in early and middle life I was regular, but did 
not sleep over eight hours, often less. 
I have not been careful of my health ; I am naturally 
of robust constitution, inherited from a vigorous an- 
cestry—Scotch-Irish. 
I am now seventy-one years of age, and am in the 
enjoyment of vigorous health. I am able to do as 
much work in my profession as I ever could, in some 
departments more. 
1 am an American, born in Kentucky and raised in 
Indiana. I have been a resident of Indiana ever since 
1813, being only two years old when my father emi- 
grated to the Indiana Territory. 
I attribute my long life to a robust constitution 
inherited from a long line of ancestors; on my father’s 
side Scotch-Irish, and on my mother’s (the Lees), 
English. I do not think my mode of life has either 
lengthened or shortened it. Yours, etc., 
(1Signed) Robert C. Gregory. 
While the contents of this letter, and more particu- 
larly the concluding sentence, which I have put in 
italics, would seem to convey the impression that 
heredity had more to do with longevity than care ; yet 
we must not judge too hastily, or too superficially. We 
must peer beneath the seeming surface, and look more PERSONAL ILLUSTRATIONS. 
477 
deeply into the question. While it would seem that 
Mr. Gregory, as well as many others whom I have, 
and still more whom I will quote, have taken no care 
of themselves, and have seemed to live as they pleased, 
and even carelessly or recklessly, yet we notice, from 
the tone of their communications, that their lives have 
been more or less methodical. While they seem not to 
have been particularly careful in their mode of life, yet 
we can perceive that, with the inheritance of vigor, 
they have also received a stock of natural prudence, 
that has directed their lives into such a channel as all 
the teachings of this book indicate. It has been no 
effort for them to attain old age, because they have 
inherited both vigor and prudence. For such men, I 
am not writing. 
There are two classes of men to whom my book is 
addressed.— 
ist. Those who inherit vigor, without prudence, to 
whom I desire to supply the wanting factor of lon- 
gevity. 
2d. Those who inherit prudence, with only a mod- 
erate amount of vigor. To them I address myself in a 
particular manner. Their prudence I desire to so 
direct that it may make the most of their vigor. 
While there may seem a certain sameness about 
these numerous letters, yet from each and every one 
we can learn something. Remember, they are all from 
old men, and remember also that what is good for the 
aged is likewise good for the youthful. 
The following is from a resident of St. Joseph, Mo., 
who does not wish his name made public. His father 
died at the age of 109 and his mother at 107. He was 478 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
raised in the city and was accustomed to much activity. 
His temperament is sanguine. He uses both tobacco 
and alcohol very liberally. He retires at 8.30 p. m. 
and gets up at 3 a. m. He is 82 years old. From 
this gentleman’s letter, it is evident that he has inher- 
ited such an enormous amount of vigor that it would 
be almost impossible to kill him; therefore, since he is 
such a wonderful exception, we cannot learn much 
from his experience, but must regard him rather in the 
light of a curiosity. 
Bloomington, 111., Nov., 1880. 
1. Father was 65 years old when he died. 
2. Mother died at 74, of consumption. 
3. I inherited scrofula, which appeared when I was 
about 16 years old. 
4. I was raised in the country, except about two years. 
5. My temperament is sanguine. 
6. I never used tobacco, and am an almost total 
abstainer from alcohol. 
7. Some of my life has been passed behind the coun- 
ter, and some of my time farming; I take considerable 
exercise. 
8. I have not had much sickness. 
9. I have always used tea and coffee. 
10. I have always retired early. 
11. I am rather delicate. 
12. I shall be eighty-eight years old the 21st of Janu- 
ary next. Very respectfully, 
(Signed) John Budd. 
These few letters have been inserted for the purpose 
of giving you an idea of how old men live, and have 
lived, that they may become old. PERSONAL ILLUSTRATIONS. 
479 
In the appendix will be found many more, so that those 
who may desire to read them all can do so by refer- 
ence to the appendix, while those who would consider 
such reading tiresome, can let it alone, without losing 
the thread of the book. 
Therefore, in conclusion, old persons must remem- 
ber that they are weaker and have less vigor than 
their children. They must, as I have already said, be 
very particular not to exhaust their already weakening 
vigor, else they will use it up unnecessarily soon. 
There are no special rules of life to be laid down for 
the aged; though some writers claim that there are, 
and will thus harass and worry the mind of an old man 
or woman, by setting before them certain regulations 
which, maybe, will be difficult of fulfillment. 
In a word, in dismissing the subject, and in making 
it as easy and as comfortable as possible for you, I will 
say that the old man can and ought to live just as he 
did when young, only he must be careful to do less of 
everything, except nothing. It requires no expendi- 
ture of force to do nothing, and therefore such occu- 
pation, unless carried to excess, will be the very best 
pastime for old persons. But to lay fun aside and be 
serious, an old person needs only to be careful that he 
does less work than he was accustomed to when young, 
and all will be well. His vigor will be equal to all 
demands made upon it, and he will continue to enjoy 
life as he has done, and will last as long as is possible 
for any one who has inherited an equal amount of vital 
force to hold out. 480 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
CHAPTER XVII. 
HOW A CONSUMPTIVE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
By far the most fatal disease known to human nature 
is that terrible malady called consumption. Let us for 
a short time consider, that you may rightly understand 
what it means ; but before doing so let me tell you 
four facts:— 
i st. Consumption kills annually, in our country, 
more than ten times as many persons as fall victims to 
any other disease. 
2d. The general belief that consumption is confined 
to those that inherit it is erroneous; it can and does 
attack the most healthy, and those in whose family it 
has never been known to exist before. 
3d. Consumption when taken in time is curable, in 
the very large majority of cases. 
4th. Medicine (or drugs) has very little influence on 
the progress of consumption ; if checked, it must be by 
hygiene, or by proper life. 
Consumption means a destruction of the tissue of 
the lungs. There are two lungs in the body of every 
human being, and you now understand what important 
duties these organs have to perform ; so that you will 
be prepared to understand how impossible healthy life 
will be without the full performance of their duty. 
We know that all parts of the body, as all parts of a 
machine, are necessary,- that the body or machine may 
fulfill its duty, but in an especial manner are the lungs 
requisite to healthy and prolonged life. OFFICE OF THE LUNGS. 
481 
Through their agency the blood is freed from many 
of its impurities. In their interstices an interchange 
takes place between the vital elements of pure atmos- 
phere and the poisonous ingredients contained in the 
blood. 
When the pure blood is pumped out from the heart 
and into the main blood vessel, it is carried throughout 
the whole body, into every portion thereof. This liquid, 
thus circulating, has two duties to perform. It not only 
carries nourishment to all the muscles and organs of 
the body, but it also picks up in its course the results 
of the change in tissue necessary for life. Like the 
street sweepers, who go about collecting into piles or 
heaps the refuse of the city, so the various parts collect 
together their own dead tissue, that which has served 
its purpose in the phenomena of life, and is no longer 
of any use. 
The carts following after the sweepers are filled with 
this refuse, and they carry it away, to be finally dis- 
posed of and purified by the processes of nature. 
So, when the blood comes around to any collection 
of dead human tissue, it picks it up, absorbs it, as it 
were, into itself, and carries it on to the various organs 
whose duty it is to remove it from the body. 
Some of this load is eliminated by the skin, some 
by the kidneys, some by the bowels, and so on; the 
various scavengers or eliminating organs have each 
their own particular, special duty to perform in remov- 
ing from the body those elements whose continued 
presence would prove detrimental to health and long 
life. 
In an especial manner are the lungs scavengers. 482 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
After the blood has circulated throughout the whole 
body, it is returned again to the heart. In its course, 
it has parted with much of the dead tissue it has accu- 
mulated, but when it reaches the heart it still contains 
very much dead matter. Entering one cavity, it is 
forced through one of the openings I have described 
into another, and from there is pumped into the lungs, 
where much of its load of impurity is removed, and it 
is rendered once more fit to nourish the body, through 
the renovating influence of pure air. 
I must here again say that good action on the part 
of all organs is necessary for long life, but some are, 
of course, more important than others. 
The position occupied by the lungs in the mainte- 
nance of life cannot be placed too prominently, since it 
is through their agency that oxygen enters the body, 
and from the chapter on ventilation, you can under- 
stand how important this element is for lengthy life. 
We must remember that the purposes of ventilation 
are not accomplished when we have secured the intro- 
duction of fresh air into our rooms and houses; our 
bodies must be ventilated as well, and to accomplish 
this, pure air containing plenty of oxygen must enter 
the body. In order that it may so enter, it is com- 
pelled to pass through the lungs; it cannot pass 
through diseased lungs, any more or better than a man 
can walk along a crowded street. 
When the lung is diseased, it is choked up; it is full 
of its own dead tissue, hence it offers a mechanical 
obstruction to the passage of oxygen through its walls, 
and thus prevents its introduction into the body. Be- 
sides this mechanical obstruction, consumption of the WHAT CONSUMPTION IS. 
483 
lungs in many other ways will interfere with the en- 
trance of oxygen ; but these we need not here discuss, 
because they would be unintelligible to non-medical 
minds and are unnecessary, since you can accept as a 
fact the statement that diseased lungs cannot allow 
oxygen to enter the blood in sufficient quantity. 
Decomposition of any organic material is accom- 
plished by the same process and is subject to the same 
laws. It matters not whether the material be animal 
or vegetable, it is influenced by the same conditions. 
When organic matter decomposes, it does so by a 
change in the relative composition of its various 
elements. You know that matter is indestructible, 
therefore, the tissue of the lung is not really destroyed 
in consumption, but its composition is so altered that 
it is unable to properly perform its duty. 
There are several varieties of consumption of the 
lungs described in medical text-books, but for the pur- 
poses of this work, we may consider them all as one and 
the same, since they all really produce their disastrous 
results in the same way, that is by so disintegrating 
and altering the lungs that they become unable to per- 
form their part in the drama of life. Inflammation of 
the lungs oftentimes results in consumption, and since 
inflammation is usually the result of “ catching cold,” 
those whose lungs are weak, or who may have inherited 
a tendency to weakness or disease of these organs, are 
very liable to have the smouldering flame started into 
activity by exposure. 
Since you now understand what is meant by con- 
sumption, a few words about how to live when so 
afflicted, or when you may have reason to fear a predis- 484 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
position, will, if faithfully observed and conscientiously 
lived up to, result in saving very many lives. 
It is a fact, beyond dispute, that even where the 
hereditary tendency to this disease is most marked, as, 
for instance, when both parents have died from it, its 
period of development may be warded off for many 
years, or even, in some cases, the tendency may be 
entirely eradicated from the system. It would seem 
that with any inherited disease, so called, the disease 
itself, as an abnormal condition of any organ or part, 
is not in reality born with the individual, but rather he 
receives from his parents a peculiar condition, which 
we will call a weakness of the particular organ or part, 
on account of which such organ is rendered abnormally 
sensitive to deleterious influences, so that any disease- 
producing causes acting on it will be capable of de- 
ranging it, even though they may be so slight that they 
would have no effect whatever on another individual 
who had not inherited this weakened condition. 
This idea of heredity seems to be the true one, be- 
cause it is an exceedingly rare thing to detect disease 
(with one single exception) in the new-born child. 
Consumptive parents will usually beget healthy chil- 
dren, and it is not until, as they grow older, and are 
subjected to some cause, that the disease becomes 
developed. 
Remembering this, parents will be prepared to 
understand how important it will be to guard the lungs 
of children who may belong to a family in the disease 
history of which consumption is at all prominent. An 
ounce of prevention is much better in this disease than 
tons of cure, because, when once thoroughly established THE TENT CURE. 
485 
the cures are rare, while the cases in which proper 
hygienic precautions can and will prevent the develop- 
ment of the disease are exceedingly numerous. 
You must remember that a very prolific cause of 
consumption is the breathing of impure air. These 
impurities are irritating to the tissue of the lung, and 
this irritation acting on an hereditarily weak lung may 
set up an inflammation that will result in consumption. 
Therefore, one of the first considerations in the lives 
of those suffering from or predisposed to this disease, 
must be to secure plenty of pure, fresh air. Consump- 
tion is, par excellence, a disease of cities and civiliza- 
tion ; it is almost unknown among the wandering 
savage tribes whose lives, from birth to death, are 
passed in the open air. From this, consumptives can 
learn a valuable lesson. It would be almost suicidal 
for such a person to remain cooped up in a musty 
house in a large city, where the atmosphere is neces- 
sarily constantly full of all sorts of impurities; such 
confinement ought not to be tolerated for an instant. 
The true way for such persons to live would be in 
tents ; in fact, the “ Tent Cure ” for consumption has 
now come to be recognized among physicians as the 
most potent means of counteracting and staying the 
ravages of this dreadful disease, and we must place it 
in the first rank of remedial hygienic measures. By 
tent-life is meant to spend the day absolutely in the 
open air, and at night to sleep in a tent, in the country, 
so that you are constantly inhaling pure air; and I 
would add that it would be better for you never to 
enter a city or a house while undergoing this treat- 
ment. 486 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
If you will ask how long such a life ought to be 
indulged in, I can only answer that it depends upon 
yourself. If you were to so live all the time, it would 
be better, of course; some will be much benefited in a 
few weeks, while other cases will require several 
months. If a man has consumption, and desires to live 
as long as possible, irrespective of how he lives, then 
ought his life to be passed in such a way, visiting 
crowded cities only when pressing necessity demanded 
it, and making his visits therein as short as possible. 
Such a life, followed for several months, will, in some 
cases, effect a radical cure of the disease, so that the 
man or woman can, if they wish, return to and reside 
in the city, and never suffer any further inconvenience. 
Again, there is another class, to whom several 
months of such life will, without working an absolute 
cure, yet so improve the trouble in the lungs and bene- 
fit and strengthen the general system, that the patient 
may return to the city, to his usual occupation, for 
some time, when, the disease gaining headway again, 
he commences to fail, to run down, as it were, and 
another sojourn in his tent is indicated. 
He must be careful to heed the first indications of 
advancing disease, and hurry off to the country, else, 
possibly, such progress may be made that it will be 
impossible for him to again recuperate. By thus care- 
fully guarding his lungs, and relieving them, upon the 
first approach of danger, may he be enabled to prolong 
his life for many years and to enjoy much comfort. 
But, unfortunately, this tent life is denied to the 
great masses of mankind, who are compelled to earn 
their living by daily labor, and can be indulged in only BENEFITS OF COUNTRY LIFE. 
487 
by those few upon whom fortune has smiled. Were 
we to live the natural lives of our early ancestors, we 
could all enjoy this blessing, and I am quite sure con- 
sumption would be an unheard-of disease. But, since 
we cannot, it behooves me to teach a mode of life 
capable of being followed by all, which will tend to 
hold in check the progress of this disease. We can all 
live in the country, if we choose, and consumptives must 
do so, if they desire to prolong their lives. 
If any of my readers, living in the city, happen to be 
so unfortunate as to have the slightest taint of con- 
sumption in their families, and if they have children, 
let me beg of them, for the love they bear these little 
ones, to move at once into the country. From what I 
have already said (in a previous chapter), you can 
understand how easy it will be for you to reside a few 
miles away from the city, and come daily, or as necessity 
may require, to town, to attend to business. If you neg- 
lect this advice because your little children look strong 
and hearty, and such a life would be inconvenient and 
distasteful to you, take my word for it, and remember 
well what I am going to say: Many of you will bitterly 
lament your neglect when, in a few years’ time, you bend 
weeping over the coffin of one of your dear little ones, 
who has died of consumption, or some similar wasting 
disease, and as you gaze on the dead, white face, the 
advice I have just given will come into your mind like 
an accusing angel, while you will never cease to regret,' 
until the hour of your own death, your neglect, and 
that you did not take your children to the country 
when you had the chance, so that they might have out- 
grown the tendency to disease, and have lived to be- 
come your pride and pleasure. 488 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
While you can understand, from what has been 
already said in this work, that the country is the 
proper place for all to live, yet I desire to impress on 
you in an especial manner the fact of the immensely 
great importance of such a residence for all predisposed 
to or suffering from consumption. 
The reason is simple enough, and has already been 
given: It is merely because these weakened lungs re- 
quire pure air to a greater extent, and are more injured 
by impure air than are the strong lungs of a healthy 
person ; and pure air, really good air, is to be best 
found in the country. There is the whole question in 
small compass. 
In the beginning of this chapter I told you that con- 
sumption was characterized by a decomposition of the 
tissue of the lung. There are two conditions that must 
be always present in order that decomposition of or- 
ganic matter can occur, namely, heat and moisture ; 
without them it is impossible. From this fact we learn 
a point, and a valuable one, in the hygiene of consump- 
tion. Now, in winter, the housekeeper will buy a leg 
of mutton and hang it out of the window for a week, at 
the end of which time it is cooked and eaten. If she did 
the same in summer the meat would decompose; it 
would not be fit to serve its purpose in the human 
economy; it could not properly nourish the human 
body. You, of course, see the point I am going to 
make, that while heat favors, cold arrests decomposi- 
tion. The decomposition of the lung in consumption 
is practically the same as the decomposition of the leg 
of mutton in summer. They both require heat and 
moisture, else they cannot decompose. If the leg of 
mutton and the lung were kept in an hermetically PREVENTION OF DECOMPOSITION. 
489 
sealed ice chest, it would be impossible for decompo- 
sition to take place. 
I have seen, in Rome, in the famous church belong- 
ing to the Capuchin order of monks, the body of 
“ Blessed Crispino,” who has been dead for one 
hundred and thirty-five years. It is almost as perfect 
to-day (or was, when I saw it) as it was at the hour of 
death. But why ? Because it is hermetically sealed 
up. Neither air, moisture, heat or cold can come into 
contact with this organic mass. Therefore it cannot 
decompose. 
So also have I seen, in the world-famous cathedral 
of Milan, the remains, or indeed, I must say, the whole 
body, of that grandly good man, Charles Borromeo, 
Catholic Bishop of Milan more than three hundred 
years ago. Also, have I seen, in Bologna, the thor- 
oughly preserved body of “ Saint Catharine, of Bolog- 
na.” I could tell of many other wonderful instances 
of preservation from decomposition that I have seen 
in the cities of wonderful Europe, but these few 
will suffice to illustrate the point I desire to impress 
upon you. How have these bodies been preserved ? 
Why have they not decomposed and resolved them- 
selves into their original elements ? For two reasons:— 
i st. Because they have been, at the time of death, 
prepared, as the Egyptian mummies were; they were 
saturated, as the subjects in our dissecting rooms are, 
with certain chemicals that have a tendency to arrest 
decomposition. 
2d. After such preparation they have been encased 
in air-tight apartments, into which it has been impos- 
sible for air to enter. 490 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
Since air, heat and moisture are essential for decom- 
position, and since heat and moisture are, without the 
companionship of air, impotent to cause decomposition, 
because, though heat and moisture may act to decom- 
pose, the results of this decomposition may not be 
made apparent without the presence of air, since motion 
is necessary to make any natural phenomenon appar- 
ent to human eyes, and motion cannot take place in an 
hermetically sealed case; it is necessary that the air 
shall pass across any decomposing body or mass, in 
order that it may thoroughly alter its composition. 
To illustrate, I will tell you about a very interesting 
trip I made through the underground church of St. 
Clements, in Rome, in 1870. The party of which I 
made one was under the personal supervision of 
Father Mulooley, an Irish Dominican, head of the 
Order in Rome. After showing us all the wonders of 
this subterranean church, which.had been erected in the 
year 300 a. d., he finally brought us before a sarco- 
phagus, and told us that he himself had superintended 
the opening of this case, or marble covering, and that 
when opened it contained the body of a bishop in full 
attire, but that as soon as exposed to the air it all 
crumbled and fell to dust. 
Here, then, we have the fact presented to us of or- 
ganic matter remaining intact, as it were, undergoing 
decomposition, it is true, but retaining its original 
shape, until exposed to the atmosphere. 
Since, as you now understand, the principal factor 
in consumption is the decomposition of the tissue of the 
lungs, and since this process is subject to and influ- CLIMATE AND HYGIENE. 
491 
enced by the same powers that control decomposition of 
organic matter anywhere else, it will be plain to your 
minds that the best way to avoid consumption, or to 
retard its progress, will be to resort to those measures 
calculated to prevent decomposition. 
Since heat and moisture are the two principal fac- 
tors of decomposition, then does it logically follow that 
the reverse of these two conditions is what the con- 
sumptive desires to attain. 
From this has grown the idea that those with weak 
lungs ought to avoid damp localities, and this idea is 
correct. 
The ideal location for such a person would be the 
driest to be found, no matter how cold it may be. 
Hence have the climates of Colorado and Minnesota 
become so noted for consumptives. Then we can dis- 
miss the subject of climate with the advice that you 
will require a dry, cold atmosphere. 
A consumptive must live liberally. High living, 
unless it derange the stomach, will be conducive to the 
general health, and will tend to hold the disease of the 
lungs in check. 
I once knew a very intelligent physician who inher- 
ited a tendency to weak lungs. When the tendency 
became a reality, and he commenced to go into a de- 
cline, he made up his mind that he would do all in 
his power to cultivate gout, believing that one disease 
would counteract the other. So he ate all kinds of 
good, rich articles, drank wine, and lived generally in 
such an epicurean style that, had he lived long enough, 
he would have been able to have cultivated a first-class 
case of gout. 492 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
By this mode of life his general physique did im- 
prove ; he became stouter, stronger, enjoyed life more, 
felt better and was better, and though he died young, 
yet I have no doubt that his mode of life added several 
years to his earthly existence. 
A word of caution will here be necessary. This 
high living will derange the stomach in some persons ; 
if it does do so, then will it hasten the progress of the 
disease, and in such instances it ought not to be perse- 
vered in. 
The main indications in the life of a consumptive 
teach them to supply plenty of fresh air to the lungs, 
and to keep up the general health and strength. 
These two points are really all that are worth talking 
or writing about, since they are the only ones that 
can have any influence on the progress of the disease. 
Of course, it may be a satisfaction to some to know 
just what part of the lung is affected, and what form 
of consumption exists, but for all practical purposes 
this knowledge will avail nothing. 
The principal, in fact, the only indication for medic- 
inal treatment in this disease, is to build up and keep 
up the tone of the system at large, and it is to this end 
that all the drugs prescribed by the physician are 
directed. Realizing this, you will be prepared to be- 
lieve that it will be better to receive this toning up 
from natural rather than from artificial means. So, 
then, the consumptive, or he who may have a tendency 
toward weak lungs, ought to observe in an especial 
manner the precepts of this book, and be very careful 
that he so lives as to impose as little work on his lungs 
as possible. WHAT IS HEART DISEASE. 
493 
CHAPTER XVIII. 
HOW A PERSON WITH HEART DISEASE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
On this subject there is but little to be said that will 
be suited to the general public. 
It would be useless for me to enter into a discussion 
of the various forms of heart disease ; it would do you 
no good and would be unintelligible. 
It will be sufficient to state that there are two forms 
of heart disease, two grand divisions; I might say, two 
ways in which the heart can deviate from a healthy 
state or condition.— 
i st. Mechanical. 
2d. Organic. 
i st. Mechanical.—By mechanical disease of the 
heart, I mean those conditions wherein the structure of 
the organ, its tissue proper, is normal, is not diseased, 
but where, owing to some cause, some portion of the 
heart is mechanically deranged, so that it is unfit to 
properly perform its duty. 
These conditions are very numerous. I have already 
explained to you some little about the formation and 
duties of the heart; I will now go a little more into 
detail, in order that you may more thoroughly compre- 
hend the necessity for the cautions I will have here- 
after to give you. 
The heart is truly and literally a double acting pump. 
It has the two properties of suction and propulsion. 
Ordinarily this organ is about the size of the closed 494 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
fist. It is composed of muscular tissue, and consists 
of four cavities, all of which are connected by certain 
openings. 
To make this clear to you, I will tell you first, that 
we have the left ventricle and the left auricle, the right 
ventricle and the right auricle. While this division 
really makes two hearts, each composed of a ventricle 
and an auricle, yet the different cavities are all con- 
nected by means of blood vessels, so as to form in 
reality but one organ. Now, let us follow a certain 
column of blood, and you can better understand the 
duties of the heart and blood vessels. Let us start 
with this blood in the left ventricle, and when we get 
back to our starting point you will understand how the 
blood gets into this cavity. The left ventricle con- 
tracts and the blood is forced out of it into the main 
blood vessel of the body, the aorta ; the contraction is 
but momentary, since it occurs some seventy or eighty 
times in the course of a minute, and following this con- 
traction comes a period of dilatation, in order that it may 
contract again ; when this dilatation occurs, you would 
suppose that the blood just forced out would be drawn 
back again into the ventricle; but nature has provided 
against this regurgitation, by placing at the orifice of 
these openings little doors or valves, which imme- 
diately shut down, so that the blood cannot flow back. 
When the next contraction takes place more blood 
is forced out, and this second column, pressing on that 
which has gone before, forces it further along, while its 
progress also is assisted by a contraction of the blood 
vessels themselves, whose walls contain muscular tis- 
sue, which enables them to contract, relax and contract 
again, just as the heart itself does. THE BLOOD CIRCULATION. 
495 
So, then, the blood is carried along this large vessel, 
just as the passengers from a railroad train walk 
through the main hall of the depot and out on to the 
principal thoroughfare of the city. Just as these people 
now diverge into the different streets, to carry the life 
of business activity to the various portions of the city, 
so, in a short space this main vessel commences to give 
off branches to the various portions of the body, and 
into these branches the blood runs, in order that it may 
carry nourishment to these different parts. These 
vessels again divide and subdivide, each one losing so 
much of its own capacity as it has given to the new 
vessel, so beautiful are all the arrangements of nature, 
until finally they become small microscopical tubes, 
from which the tissues of the body derive their nour- 
ishment. These minute vessels are called capillaries. 
After the blood has given nourishment to the parts, 
and has picked up the waste elements, as I have 
already described, it passes from these very small ves- 
sels into others equally small, but that are formed of a 
different tissue. These are called veins. The blood 
is now loaded with impurities, it is not now fit to nour- 
ish the body; it is foul, and must be purified. These 
little veins run together and form larger ones; these, 
again, coalesce and result in vessels of a still greater 
magnitude. By their agency the blood is carried to 
the various eliminatory organs or scavengers, where 
some of its impurities are removed. 
After a while, these veins coming from all parts of 
the body unite to form two large vessels, which empty 
their contents into the right auricle of the heart. 496 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
From this cavity it is pumped into the right ventricle. 
From here it is forced through two large vessels or 
tubes into the lungs, where it undergoes the purifica- 
tion by oxygen about which I have told you, after 
which it is again returned to the left auricle, from which 
it is pumped into the left ventricle, in which cavity we 
first found it, and from which it is now once more 
ready to be sent out to nourish the body. 
You now have an idea of the course of the circula- 
tion of the blood. It will, however, very naturally 
suggest itself to you, why does not some of the blood 
flow backward, in this constant onward course. That 
is precisely what it does do in some cases of disease, 
and it is just this danger that nature has endeavored 
to provide against. 
To do so, she has placed at all of the openings little 
sentinels or doors capable of opening only in one 
direction. They will allow the blood to flow through 
in the ordained direction, but when it attempts to 
return they shut down, close the orifice and refuse 
passage to the fluid. 
As long as these valves remain healthy, perfect 
circulation must take place; but, unfortunately, they 
are very delicate and easily deranged. 
They may get out of order in several ways. The 
heart may become distended, involving in this disten- 
tion the various orifices; when, of course, the valves 
will be too small to accurately protect them. 
The valves may become diseased by the deposit in 
them of some of the atheroma I have told you about; 
which, making them rigid, will prevent their accurate 
adaptation to these openings. In various ways may ORGANIC DISEASE OF HEART. 
497 
their competency be interfered with, and when this 
does occur, regurgitation of the blood will ensue. 
It will manage to get into some place where it does 
not properly belong; and this will constitute one of 
the mechanical forms of heart disease. 
Again, the heart may become over-distended, while 
the openings may not be enlarged; therefore, the 
valves will be sufficient and no regurgitation will take 
place. But, if this distention or enlargement of the 
heart is not. compensated for by an increase in its 
thickness, the strength of its walls becomes diminished, 
and the heart becomes weak. 
In many cases where we have dilatation or stretching, 
we find hypertrophy or thickening of the walls; so that 
here, while the whole heart is enlarged, it is as strong 
as ever, and no evil consequences ensue. But, unfor- 
tunately, this is not always the case, and when the 
compensating hypertrophy does not occur, we have a 
dilated and weakened heart, which constitues another 
form of mechanical derangement of this organ. 
This brings us to orgariic disease of the heart as 
distinguished from mechanical interference with its 
action. These mechanical diseases are sometimes 
understood as organic, in contradistinction to functional 
or temporary diseases; but, to be accurate, we must 
call all disorders due to alteration in the make-up of the 
heart mechanical, while, when we come to those prop- 
erly designated as organic, we must group under this 
head those derangements due to an alteration in the 
structure or composition of the tissue of the organ 
itself. 
Prominently among these organic changes, we find 498 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
fatty degeneration. You already have a very fair idea 
of what this means. It consists in a deposit of fat in 
the walls of the heart, which, taking the place of the 
muscular tissue, renders the organ flabby and weak. 
In other ways can the heart become diseased ; but it 
matters not what may be the nature of the diseased 
condition, they all require the same care and prudence 
in living, in order that this weakened and diseased 
organ may be enabled to hold out and not succumb 
unnecessarily soon. 
In all forms of heart disease the fatal result occurs 
from the same cause, namely, exhaustion of the vigor 
of this organ. It is true that in all deaths life ceases 
from this same cause; but in other diseases the failure 
of the heart’s action is secondary to the primary dis- 
ease ; it is an effect and not a cause ; while, when the 
heart itself is the seat of disease, this organ becomes 
the direct cause. 
It will seem to you as only common sense when I 
say that any exertion of any kind will make a demand 
on the heart. Since you know that all exertion uses 
up some tissue in its performance, and since this tissue 
is repaired from the blood, and as the heart is com- 
pelled to pump this blood, so,, then, you are prepared 
to understand how any exercise or exertion makes 
demand upon the action of the heart. 
So, if the heart is weakened by disease, it becomes 
of paramount importance that you should reduce the 
demands made upon it to the minimum, else these 
unnatural demands will prematurely exhaust its dimin- 
ished strength. 
To accomplish this indication, you must, in the first HYGIENE IN HEART DISEASE. 
499 
place, be careful to heed all the advice contained in 
the various chapters of this book. You must lead an 
even, equable, temperate life in everything. 
You know how emotion of any kind, of joy, anger, 
grief, etc., will cause tumultuous action of the heart; 
therefore, any one who has disease of this organ should 
in an especial manner guard against these emotions. 
You all know that an old and leaky pump will answer 
its purpose well enough as long as it has but little 
work to do, but if you crowd it, if you give it sud- 
denly an excessive amount of work, it will give out; 
it cannot adapt itself to the increased demand. So it 
is, precisely, with a diseased heart. 
Now, I desire to say to those of my readers who 
may have heart disease, that the popular notion of the 
incurability of such diseased condition, and the belief 
that it will be rapidly fatal, and that death from heart 
disease always occurs suddenly, are all fallacious ideas. 
In the first place, many forms of heart disease are 
curable; secondly, a person may live for many, very 
many years with an unsound heart; and thirdly, 
death is very frequently as gradual as from any other 
form of disease of any other organ. 
But in order that a cure may be effected, or that life 
may be greatly prolonged, it becomes absolutely ne- 
cessary that the precautions I have enjoined should be 
religiously observed. 
The whole secret of hygiene in heart disease, the 
whole essence of this chapter, can be expressed in the 
few words, live quietly and evenly, never get excited, 
and never subject yourself to scenes and surroundings 
calculated to impress the emotions. 500 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
Here you have the whole question in small compass. 
By leading this quiet, even, equable life, you will 
place very little strain on your heart; it will go on, act- 
ing quietly and evenly, and will be vouchsafed time 
and leisure in which to recuperate its strength and to 
repair the ravages that disease may have made upon 
its structure. 
For those who have heart disease, violent exercise 
will be especially injurious, since it will make upon this 
organ a demand altogether out of proportion to its 
ability. 
I could tell you of a young man in our city who had 
developed his external muscles to a marvelous degree 
of perfection ; he was a fine looking specimen of a 
man, physically, but by this very development, by this 
excessive exercise, he had overstrained and diseased 
his heart. He was very fond of rowing. One day in the 
early spring he went out for a pull on the river. His 
shell was upset and he started to swim to shore. 
After a few strokes he disappeared beneath the sur- 
face and never came up. His death was reported as 
due to drowning. In truth, it was due to an excess- 
ive strain of a diseased heart. 
His great exercise had diseased his heart, had ren- 
dered it weak and unable to meet and supply any great 
or unusual demand. By rowing he had added to this 
strain, and when he was thrown into the river, the sud- 
den shock received from contact with the cold water, as 
well as the exertion put forth in endeavoring to 
swim to shore, proved too much for his diseased heart 
and it succumbed; it could not meet the emergency. 
From this case we learn the secret of how to live LIVE QUIETLY. 
501 
when the heart is diseased, and the secret can be told 
in a few words. 
It matters not what form of heart disease may exist, 
they all demand a quiet existence, in order that life 
may be prolonged. 
Great exertion, either physical or mental, will be 
injurious, and must not be indulged in ; everything that 
is done must be done as quietly, slowly, and comfort- 
ably as possible. 
By so doing, a diseased heart will last a long time, 
but by neglect of these precautions it will very rapidly 
give out. 502 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
CHAPTER XIX. 
HOW A PREGNANT WOMAN OUGHT TO LIVE. 
A woman with child should constantly bear in mind 
that she is fulfilling the noblest purpose of her exist- 
ence. The Almighty Creator has bestowed upon her 
the wonderful ability to nurture and bring forth into 
the world His own children, made in His own image 
and likeness. She should ever remember that while 
carrying her child, marvelous and sublime phenom- 
ena are going on within her body. She should con- 
stantly feel the great dignity accorded to her by 
Almighty God, in His far-seeing wisdom and benevo- 
lence, and thus appreciating the wonderful changes 
taking place within her, changes so delicate, complicated 
and intricate in their nature as to be most profoundly 
impressed for weal or for woe by the slightest circum- 
stances, she should guard her health and her general 
surroundings with the utmost solicitude and care. 
A pregnant woman should be careful of her health 
and strength, because she has a life, a soul, within her, 
feeding upon her life, and inheriting to a degree the 
same amount of strength which she possesses. She 
should eat well, sleep well, exercise well, but moderately. 
She should in an especial manner avoid all depressing 
surroundings. Every effort should be made to keep 
her always in cheerful and happy spirits. If it is im- 
portant for the nursing woman to be gay and cheerful, 
it is doubly, aye trebly so for the pregnant one. CULTIVATE REGULARITY OF HABIT. 
503 
At the same time, too much anxiety, too much con- 
centration of thought upon self, when in this condition, 
is unwise. To conform to the happy medium in every- 
thing should be the aim of the expectant mother. The 
same rules of life that are enunciated elsewhere 
throughout this book are eminently applicable to the 
pregnant woman, but in an especial manner are they 
necessary to one in this condition, since then her sys- 
tem is, so to speak, more impressionable, more sus- 
ceptible to evil influences. By living carefully during 
this period of gestation, not only will more comfort be 
derived during its continuance, but the process of de- 
livery will be rendered easier, while the subsequent 
restoration to health will be much accelerated. The 
heavy womb, daily growing larger and heavier, will, as 
you can readily understand, have a tendency to pro- 
duce certain disordered conditions mechanically, so to 
speak, that is to say, as a result of pressure. Thus, 
by pressing upon the bowel which passes down behind 
the womb to terminate in the anus, it may form a me- 
chanical impediment to the passage of excrement and 
cause constipation. Since regular, daily evacuations 
are so necessary to health, this condition should not be 
allowed to exist for any time. If the methods that I 
recommend in my little book on “ Constipation” do 
not suffice to overcome this condition, you should at 
once consult your physician. Many pregnant women 
whose bowels are quite regular, yet suffer very much 
whenever they are moved. The suffering is sometimes 
so great that they will avoid the closet on account of 
it, thus cultivating a costive habit. In many cases this 
suffering is due to what might be called temporary 504 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
piles. The pressure, to which I have referred, of the 
heavy womb on the veins in the abdomen, so interferes 
with the circulation of blood in them as to cause them 
to become congested and enlarged, constituting piles. 
In the majority of cases this condition will pass away 
after the child is born ; if it does not, then it becomes a 
proper case for the physician. Again, by pressure on 
the internal veins of the abdomen, the free return of 
the blood from the lower extremities may be interfered 
with, while this extra pressure on the veins and on the 
column of blood in them, may force some of the water 
of the blood through the walls of the veins into the sur- 
rounding tissue, causing swelling of the feet and legs. 
If such a condition exists, you should, without delay, 
consult a physician, to ascertain whether this dropsy is 
due merely to mechanical pressure or is caused by 
disease of some organ, since in some cases organic 
disease may exist unsuspected, and prove a serious 
complication at the time of delivery, while if duly recog- 
nized and carefully watched by the physician who will 
attend you in labor, the danger to be apprehend- 
ed from it may be very much lessened. 
The pregnant woman must be particularly careful to 
avoid unpleasant or shocking sights and accidents, since 
it has been well established that not only will such de- 
pressing influences disastrously affect the mother, but 
also will they redound to the detriment of the child yet 
unborn. In this connection comes up the question of 
“maternal impressions'' which is such an interesting 
and important one as to require a few minutes’ consid- 
eration. There are innumerable instances on record 
that tend to demonstrate the fact that the child in the MATERNAL IMPRESSIONS. 
505 
womb can be influenced by impressions made upon the 
nervous system of the mother. Since undisputed facts 
are the best of arguments, I will convince you of this 
point by relating a few illustrative cases. These cases 
are given, not for the purpose of frightening pregnant 
women into taking care of themselves, but to show 
them what may happen from a disregard of well-known 
facts. Before detailing such cases it is but proper that 
I should issue a word of caution. It will be very 
wrong and injurious for pregnant women to misinter- 
pret the meaning of my remarks and my illustrations; 
they must understand that such cases are very excep- 
tional ones, and that the infinitely large majority of 
women are fortunately free from them ; but what I de- 
sire to impress, is the fact that such misfortunes can 
occur, and to urge all women to carefully guard them- 
selves against the possibility of such unfortunate occur- 
rences. So, with this word of caution, and admonishing 
my female readers not to allow my illustrations to 
impress them otherwise than to make them careful to 
avoid shocking sights, and conveying this advice in an 
especial manner to those of a nervous temperament 
or disposition, I will proceed to give illustrations of the 
power of 
During the pregnancy of a woman, one of her sons 
got into a fight and received a knife wound across his 
wrist, severing the softer parts, to the bone; in this 
condition the boy was received and the wound dressed 
by his mother; and when the child was born, it had a 
like gash across its forearm, which resisted all efforts 
at healing, until finally it became necessary to remove 
MATERNAL IMPRESSIONS. 506 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
the hand and arm above the wound, when the stump 
readily healed. 
A pregnant woman once saw an ugly ulcer or sore 
on the leg, resulting from a snake-bite ; when her baby 
was born it had a similar sore on the same leg. 
A pregnant woman once looked upon a man who 
had a horribly deformed eye ; she was most profoundly 
impressed, and when her baby was born, an identical 
deformity of the eye was discovered. 
Dr. W. J. Carter* relates the following: “Some 
years ago, I met a gentleman who resided near St. Cloud, 
Minnesota, who showed me the picture of a man upon 
his arm, the right arm raised over the head. His story 
was, that before he was born (his parents then living 
in an Indian country), an Indian suddenly appeared at 
the door of the cabin when his mother was alone, and 
greatly frightened her; he was a friendly Indian, as it 
happened, and threw up his arm in token of peace.” 
A case is reported where a woman had borne nine 
or ten children. When she was carrying the first child 
she happened one day to be at a neighbor’s house, 
when one of the children came running in, crying, with 
an irregular, V-shaped wound on the forehead from 
the kick of a calf. Every one of her children at birth 
had a similar mark, which as time passed gradually 
faded and finally disappeared. 
A truly remarkable case, showing how quickly these 
maternal impressions may be conveyed to and influence 
the child, is related by Dr. Ramsey, of Knoxville, 
Tenn.: “A negro woman belonging to my own house- 
hold was about seven months gone, when she was 
* Med. Brief. MATERNAL IMPRESSIONS. 
507 
thrown from a horse and fell in soft mud, with one 
leg, in its lower third, across a hay rod or sapling used 
to bind hay on a wagon. Twenty-four hours after- 
wards she miscarried. The child had a well-defined 
bruise on its leg, corresponding with the leg of the 
mother which struck the hay rod, and the leg of the 
child was broken, though no mark, even, was made on 
the leg of the mother.” 
Dr. Burchmore, of Illinois, reports the following 
case: He was called hastily to attend a woman in 
labor. She feared some deformity, since some time 
before she had become terribly frightened by seeing 
a man who had received a shocking injury to his 
thumb. When the child was born the thumb of the 
right hand was attached by only a slender filament 
of skin. 
Dr. William Hunt, of Philadelphia, reports a very 
remarkable case that came under his observation at 
the Pennsylvania Hospital. A woman, thirty years of 
age and about eight months pregnant, was admitted to 
the wards suffering from extensive burns. Four days 
afterward labor came on and she was delivered of a 
dead child that was blistered and burnt in extent and 
places almost exactly corresponding to the injuries of 
the mother. 
I could go on indefinitely multiplying illustrative 
proofs of maternal impressions on the child, but I have 
given you enough. 
As an antidote to the possible effects that these 
recitals may have on some nervous and imaginative 
women, I will quote from Dr. Shivers, who says, “What 
a common experience it is with us to hear the mother 508 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
anxiously inquire, after the child is born,“/r it all right” 
or “Is it perfectly formed?” and when the question is 
answered in the affirmative (as it generally is), “ Oh, 1 
am so glad! for I was frightened by a crippled or a 
snake, or a cow, or something. It is a belief among 
women, as firmly fixed as the belief in the deity, that 
maternal impressions during pregnancy, especially 
fright, necessarily affect the child; consequently every 
pregnant woman is on the watch, like a shying horse, 
for something to get frightened at; and such a some- 
thing generally comes along, which, of course, she never 
forgets. Why, then, are children not more frequently 
marked?” 
From the foregoing we are forced to two conclu- 
sions:— 
i st. That maternal impressions are capable of and 
do influence the child in the womb. 
2d. That this influence, in its unfortunate results, is 
comparatively very rarely manifested. 
From these conclusions we can deduce the following 
advice to expectant mothers:— 
Do not worry about the evil influence on your child 
of disagreeable sights or adventures that may have oc- 
curred unavoidably to you, but shun such occasions as 
far as lies in your power. Remember that in the large 
majority of cases they will do no harm, and bear in 
mind, likewise, that the less you concentrate your mind 
on them the less likely will they be to prove disastrous. 
A very important matter in connection with the 
breasts during pregnancy is apt to be overlooked by 
all, save a very careful and cautious physician. Gen- 
erally, in women pregnant for the first time, the nip- EFFECTS OF TIGHT LACING. 
509 
pies are not prominent. As a result, when the baby 
is put to the breast, it finds nothing to take hold of, 
and grips and bites and worries, until it annoys itself 
into peevishness, and makes an exceedingly sore and 
sensitive nipple for its mother. If, now, during the 
last three or four months of pregnancy, you will, morn- 
ing and evening, gently grasp the nipple between the 
thumb and forefinger and easily, gently and gradually 
pull it away from the breast several times, it will stretch 
like India rubber, since it contains much elastic tissue. 
By persevering in this habit (which a little practice 
will make perfectly clear to you), the result will be that 
when the baby is born you will have a prominent nip- 
ple, standing well out, which the baby can take hold of, 
without trouble or inconvenience to you or itself. Your 
fingers have intelligently and gently performed that 
which, otherwise, the baby’s mouth would have instinct- 
ively but roughly been compelled to do, at the expense 
of much suffering and inconvenience. If you do this the 
first time, the suction of the baby’s mouth thereafter 
will so permanently elongate and enlarge the nipple that 
the same procedure will be rendered unnecessary in 
future pregnancies. 
Too much cannot be said against tight lacing in 
pregnancy. It will prove disastrous alike to mother 
and child. The womb is constantly growing, and so is 
the child. They both must have plenty of room to 
expand. Tight lacing will interfere with this free ex- 
pansion, and by doing so, will force the unnaturally 
cramped womb to look for some other direction in 
which to expand. This it will do at the expense of the 
stomach, bowels, heart and lungs. Pressing thus on 510 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
these organs, it will interfere with their functions, and 
you will have dyspepsia, constipation, palpitation and 
shortness of breath. The natural enlargement of the 
womb presses upon and interferes with these organs 
sufficiently, without the additional artificial interference 
of tight lacing. Do not, therefore, I implore you, in 
the name of your poor, cramped and uncomfortable 
baby, sacrifice its future health and your own to the 
foolish dictates of fashion. What need you care, 
for the time, whether your waist has the circumference 
of a hogshead, so long as your health and that of your 
child remains unimpaired. And let me assure you, 
beyond any question of doubt, that it is a physical 
impossibility for a woman who resorts to tight lacing 
during pregnancy to bring into the world a perfectly 
developed and thoroughly formed child. Therefore, 
while it may be necessary in our day for women to 
wear corsets (since it would take a bloody revolution 
to do away with the abomination), though the Roman 
matrons of old needed no such artificial support, let 
them be laced only tight enough to give the actual 
support required, and not tight enough to reduce the 
circumference of the waist. 
As an additional factor in removing this unhealthy 
constriction from the womb, pregnant women ought to 
wear their clothing suspended from the shoulders. The 
present style of supporting clothing from the waist, as 
you can understand, must exert a constricting influence 
on all the abdominal organs, and interfere with the 
free development of womb and child. Common 
sense will demonstrate this to you, therefore let 
your common sense direct you to remedy this trouble AFTER TREATMENT OF PREGNANT WOMEN. 
511 
by supporting your clothing where it ought to be 
supported. 
, To sum up, then, in a few words, the life to be led 
by a pregnant woman, it becomes plainly evident that 
the advice can be conveyed in a few simple words. 
When pregnant, the same rules of life are to be ob- 
served as would be applicable to one not pregnant, 
with the reservation, that during pregnancy the neces- 
sity for faithful observance of these rules becomes 
doubly imperative, since a pregnant woman is in many 
ways much more susceptible to evil influences than 
when not in this condition. 
As an appendix to this chapter, I will quote the 
advice which Dr. J. Henry Bennett always gives to his 
labor patients, and the knowledge of which may save 
you much after suffering. He says, “ On taking leave 
of my patient, I say to the husband: ‘Your wife’s con- 
finement, being a natural function, ought to do her good: 
two months after it she ought to feel, at least, as well, 
if not better, than before the pregnancy. She ought 
to walk and stand as well, and to have no pains. If 
she does not attain this standard, send for me, and we 
will talk the matter over. During her confinement she 
may have received some internal injury, not appre- 
ciable at first, but easily recognizable later. Any such 
injury can easily be treated and cured a couple of 
months after confinement. If, on the contrary, it be 
allowed to continue untreated for months and years, 
it will undermine her health; and when she is at last 
forced to apply for assistance, it will prove most diffi- 
cult to cure.” This advice is sound and excellent, and 
it will be well for every pregnant woman to take it 
seriously to heart, and to act upon it. 512 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
CHAPTER XX. 
HOW A NURSING WOMAN OUGHT TO LIVE. 
The two cardinal points to be considered in the life 
of a woman giving suck to young are, first, to keep up 
the standard of her own health, and secondly, to main- 
tain a copious supply of pure milk. These two indi- 
cations are really one and the same, for, in the majority 
of cases, where the first is properly attended to, the 
second will follow as a natural consequence. 
A nursing woman must ever bear in mind that her 
stomach must digest and furnish nourishment for two 
beings ; hence it must be carefully attended to or both 
her own health and that of her offspring will pay the 
penalty. 
She should consider herself, to a certain extent, in the 
light of an invalid, so far as exemption from fatiguing 
work and care of her diet is concerned. This con- 
stant formation of milk and its removal from her body 
is a constant drain upon her strength, and she should 
be vigilant to supply this drain by good, nourishing 
food, easy of digestion. The Roman Catholic Church 
exempts its members from abstaining and fasting when 
pregnant or when giving suck to young ; to this eccle- 
siastical dispensation I would add the sanction of 
medical advice, and would say to any member of that 
church who may read these pages, that when pregnant 
or nursing, they are justified religiously and advised 
medically neither to fast or abstain. I would advise a GUARD AGAINST CONSTIPATION. 
513 
nursing woman, in addition to her regular meals, to 
drink three glasses of milk daily, unless it makes her 
bilious, when porter, brown stout, ale or beer might be 
substituted. When possible, and there is no fear of 
establishing a dangerous habit, the addition of a table- 
spoonful of good brandy and a little sugar to the milk, 
so as to make a punch, will be advisable. In some 
women milk will produce constipation; if so, this con- 
dition can generally be relieved by drinking a glass of 
cold water immediately before breakfast, and forming a 
regular habit of seeking the closet at precisely the 
same hour every, day. If unsuccessful at first, perse- 
vere day after day, at the same hour, avoiding violent 
straining, and eventually a regular habit will be in- 
duced. Should this prove ineffectual, eat some oat- 
meal mush in addition to the glass of water before 
breakfast. If still unsuccessful, a medicated prune, 
obtained from a reliable druggist and taken at bed- 
time, may be tried. Do not eat fruit for this purpose 
when nursing a very young baby, unless you desire a 
wakeful night, with baby screaming in your ear, from 
colic. 
If still constipated, call on your physician and do as 
he tells you. Let me beg of you, for the love you bear 
the baby at your breast, not to try all the medicines in 
a large and well stocked drug store, on your own re- 
sponsibility, or the advice of that ever present friend 
who pretends to know so much and, in truth, knows as 
little or likely less of what she recommends than you do 
yourself. If you follow not my advice, if you do as so 
many women have done, particularly for this most 
troublesome and obstinate disorder of constipation, 514 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
mark my words well, you will regret your folly when 
it is too late, when you have become one of those hypo- 
chondriacal walking laboratories, who, by constant use 
of drugs, have bred such a tolerance of their action 
that you might as well pour warm water into an iron 
boiler and hope to melt it, as to produce any effect 
whatever upon their systems by the administration of 
any ordinary dose of medicine. I am not speaking 
from imagination; I am telling you facts. There are 
hundreds of such self-made women doctors, who have 
literally ruined their stomachs by the abuse of good 
and valuable medicines. I have seen some of them in 
whose stomachs you might almost explode a case of 
dynamite, without any appreciable effect, so callous had 
they become, from constant familiarity with the strong- 
est and most potent drugs. 
Now, my good lady, if troubled with persistent con- 
stipation, please take my advice, go at once to your 
physician, and if you do as he tells you and have 
patience, he will cure you. Your articles of diet must 
be carefully regulated; certain articles can be set down 
on the proscribed list, as almost sure to give the baby 
colic until he is three or four months old. Among 
these may be mentioned corn, new vegetables just in 
market, fruit and acid articles. Further than this, 
every case must be a law unto itself. If you suspect 
that any article affects your milk injuriously, eat freely 
of it; if it produces colic in the baby, or any other 
bad effect, let it alone for twenty-four hours. If 
the effects do not then appear, try it again ; if after 
two or three trials you are satisfied that you have 
found the offending article, put it upon the proscribed 
list from that time forward. HYGIENIC ADVICE. 
515 
You should abstain, as far as possible, from nursing 
your baby when you are over-heated, your milk is then 
feverish and may sicken baby; neither is your milk in 
condition to properly nourish when you are much 
fatigued, when you are depressed, melancholy or sad, 
when you are angry or excited. You should endeavor 
to preserve as even and quiet a disposition and tem- 
perament as possible. 
The surroundings of a nursing, as of a pregnant 
woman, should be cheerful and happy. She should 
avoid sensational reading and exhibitions. Frights and 
shocks to her nervous system are injurious to her milk. 
Should you feel very weak and languid, notwith- 
standing strict attention to your diet, you had better 
consult your physician as to the advisability of 
taking a tonic, but do not take one on your own re- 
sponsibility. Should your dinner hour be later than 
mid-day, you had better take your punch, or porter, or 
brown stout, with a few crackers, or a piece of sponge- 
cake, about eleven o’clock. Take your second punch 
in the afternoon, and the third one before going to bed. 
One of the greatest misfortunes that can befall a 
nursing woman is a gathered breast. This condition 
is generally due to the officiousness of monthly nurses. 
In its incipiency, if properly treated, such a condition 
can generally be aborted; but these nurses, desiring 
to impress their patients with the profoundness of their 
knowledge, usually treat the early stages of a gathered 
breast themselves, concealing its commencement from 
the doctor, and only calling his attention to it when it 
has surpassed their skill, and when, generally, it is too 
late to prevent the formation of an abscess. There- 516 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
fore, I would advise all women who have any uncom- 
fortable sensation whatsoever in their breasts, to request 
the physician, on his daily visit, to examine them, and 
not to trust to the nurse. 
So, then, to sum up, nursing- women, as pregnant 
ones, must pay attention, in a particular manner, to all 
those points that will conduce to maintain the standard 
of their health. 
Before concluding, I must modify some of the state- 
ments contained in this chapter. 
Occasionally, or I might even say frequently, women 
will suffer greatly from constipation after confinement, 
and all the means which I have recommended will fail 
to remedy the trouble. 
To make such a case clear to you, and to illustrate 
the remedy, I will relate a typical case that occurred in 
my own experience. 
A young married woman had given birth to two 
children, and from the date of her first confinement, 
had suffered terribly from constipation. It was the 
great exception when she had a natural passage from 
the bowels. 
After each birth she was accustomed to drink freely 
of milk, so as to furnish plenty of nourishment to her 
baby; the babies thrived and so did the constipation. 
Finally she became pregnant a third time. 
She was constantly in dread of the trouble that she 
felt sure would succeed the birth, and her life was ren- 
dered miserable by the anticipation. 
In time she was delivered of a large boy, and her 
worst fears were realized. Her constipation was 
something dreadful. The strongest medicines were REMEDY FOR CONSTIPATION. 
517 
used; the contents of the bowels would come down to 
the anus, would there accumulate in hard masses of an 
enormous size, and she would be utterly unable to 
expel them. 
Her sufferings at these times, when endeavoring to 
have a passage, were truly pitiable to witness, and cer- 
tainly gave every evidence that they equaled the 
throes of labor itself. 
After straining and suffering for maybe half an hour, 
it would become necessary for me to introduce my 
finger into the bowel and remove, piece by piece, these 
hardened masses. 
Finally, concluding that medicine would do no good, 
this lady was told to abandon the use of milk, which it 
was considered had a constipating effect on her, to eat 
everything, to use plenty of water, to drink a bottle of 
ale at her dinner, and to seek the closet every day at 
the same hour. 
To assist these measures, she was given a whole bot- 
tle of citrate of magnesia. The result of this advice 
was magical. 
Within two or three hours after she had taken the 
magnesia, her bowels were so freely moved that she 
more than half filled an ordinary chamber, and from 
that day on she had daily a regular, full, free and com- 
fortable evacuation from the bowels. 
Her general health became much improved, her 
spirits became correspondingly elated, and, as she her- 
self expressed it, she felt once more as she had felt 
before she was married. For five years she had suf- 
fered unnecessarily from constipation, and was now 
relieved. 518 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
She told me that her relief was so great that she 
was in the daily habit of making expressions of her 
gratitude. 
Now, what effect did this freedom of diet have on 
the child? A most beneficial one. 
This last was the largest child she had ever borne. 
Her milk supply was abundant, was of a quality to 
nourish him thoroughly, and he did not have any more 
colic than the other children, when the greatest precau- 
tions in diet had been observed. From this case we 
draw the following conclusion: That while, in the 
majority of instances, it will be better to restrict your 
diet, yet in certain cases, such freedom as was allowed 
in this case will prove beneficial to the mother and will 
not injure the child. 
Remember, that the power of adaptability to circum- 
stances is much greater in the infant than in the adult, 
and that while this freedom of diet may, for a time, 
produce colic and wakeful nights, yet, in a short time, 
the stomach and bowels of the baby will become 
accustomed to their action ; while the effect of regular 
evacuations on the general health of the mother will 
be so great that it will redound to the material im- 
provement of her milk, and thus to the better nourish- 
ment of the baby. WHAT CONSTITUTES A NURSE. 
519 
CHAPTER XXI. 
HINTS FOR GOOD NURSING. 
How often have we heard persons of all denomina- 
tions heap blessings upon the heads of the devoted 
“ Sisters of Charity,” who, in time of carnage and 
bloodshed, during the prevalence of the most loath- 
some and fatal epidemics, at any and all times, are 
ready to sacrifice their own comfort, security, health, 
and oftentimes lives, to minister unto and nurse their 
fellow-creatures. 
They make really a business of nursing the sick, 
and thus become very proficient; but since we cannot 
always command their services, and since good nursing 
is so important a factor in the treatment of disease, it 
becomes imperative that we should all know some little 
about it. 
Truly can nursing be placed very high in the list of 
causes that tend to restore those ill to health; in many 
cases I would even place this ministry above that of 
the physician, since, oftentimes, good nursing alone 
will be able to turn the tide of chance in favor of the 
invalid, while in very serious cases the greatest profes- 
sional skill, if not seconded by capable nursing, will be 
unable to do much. 
To nurse well one must, first of all, be interested in 
the patient; it must be to a certain extent a labor of 
love, else it will be a failure. It is a well-known fact 
that when a physician practices medicine only for the 520 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
money he can make thereby, in the majority of cases 
he is unsuccessful. The duties of a doctor are so 
peculiar, they are so trying, and, in many instances, 
even, so repulsive, that unless he possesses a real love 
for his profession, he is very apt to perform them in 
a very slovenly and half-cut manner, which will not be 
conducive to success. 
So it is with the nurse; his or her duties are often- 
times of such a nature that, unless actuated by more 
than money, by a higher motive, they are very apt to 
perform them but superficially, and thus to defeat the 
very purpose they are presumably endeavoring to ac- 
complish. 
Therefore, the very first requisite to make a good 
nurse is, that the person so employed shall feel a real 
interest in the case he or she is nursing. If the nurse 
is a member of the family, such interest will be a 
matter of course; but, if an outsider, it will be neces- 
sary to resort to the two following considerations in 
order to cultivate this interest:— 
In the first place, you must consider how important 
is the position you are about to assume; you must real- 
ize how much is expected of you and how much you 
are capable of accomplishing. 
And, in the second place, you must remember how 
very easy it will be to turn the balance, by neglect or 
improper nursing, so that one who would otherwise 
recover, may really be killed by unskillful nursing. 
Many books have been written on nursing, and to 
such I would refer all who desire to prepare themselves 
as professional nurses. 
My few hints herein contained will be mainly for WHO ARE THE BEST NURSES. 
521 
the guidance of those who may be called upon to 
nurse a relative or friend. The nurse owes to herself 
certain duties, as well as to the patient, and she must 
realize them. 
If about to nurse some contagious disease, she must 
use all precautions to prevent herself from taking the 
disease. If smallpox, she must be vaccinated before tak- 
ing charge. If some other contagious disease, she must 
be careful to thoroughly disinfect all discharges and arti- 
cles from the patient, as recommended in the chapter 
on “ How to Avoid Disease.” 
It should be an imperative rule, that no one in poor 
health shall undertake to nurse any case of sickness. 
Those whose health is bad, the tone of the system low- 
ered, the vital vigor not up to the standard, are very 
much more apt to contract disease than are robust, 
hearty individuals, therefore, for this reason alone, such 
persons ought not to undertake nursing. But an ad- 
ditional reason is, that such persons, from their very 
weakness and ill-health, will be physically unable to 
properly care for the patient. 
No one who may have any cause to worry over the 
sickness of the patient can make a good nurse. This 
worry will make him or her nervous and anxious, and 
the sick man, readily perceiving this, will become ner- 
vous himself, which can only tend to increase his ill- 
ness and lessen his chances of recovery. Therefore, a 
nervous wife will make a very poor nurse for a sick 
husband, and vice versa; though if the wife can con- 
trol her nervousness, no one can be better. Her love 
will suggest a gentleness of motion and a tenderness 
of sympathy that will do very much toward alleviating 522 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
the sick man’s suffering, and producing that tran- 
quillity of mind which is such an important factor in 
the recovery and restoration to health from so many 
of the more serious diseases. 
Therefore, I would not advocate the employment of 
professional nurses where it is possible to find in the 
family some one who is capable, because of good 
health and an even temperament, of performing this 
duty as a labor of love. Such ministration will be 
gentler and more efficient than that of the most skill- 
ful and proficient professional nurse. 
For the guidance of such amateurs I will enunciate a 
few directions. 
To commence, you must realize that all the laws of 
health I have enunciated are in an especial manner 
applicable to one dangerously ill with disease, but in 
such cases the necessity for their enforcement becomes 
doubly imperative, since the sick man has less vigor 
than the one in health, and therefore is mucfi more 
susceptible to the evil influences of bad sanitary sur- 
roundings. The nurse should be very careful and 
particular to scrupulously follow the directions of the 
attending physician, and that she may do so, it will be 
well for her to reduce his instructions to writing, so 
that she will have them ever before her, and will not be 
possibly betrayed into inaccuracies through a faulty 
memory. It will be wise to write these directions in 
the presence of the doctor, and reading them over, re- 
ceive his approval of them, before he leaves the room. 
I would recommend that in serious and protracted 
cases of illness, the nurse should keep a daily diary, in 
which is recorded every minute point about the pa- 
tient ; something after the following order:— DUTIES OF A NURSE. 
523 
1. Nature and amount of food taken. 
2. Effects of this food—whether vomited or retained 
—feelings of the patient after eating. 
3. Number of passages from the bowels and their 
nature. 
4. Amount of urine voided and its general appear- 
ance. 
5. Character and amount of sleep—whether quiet 
and heavy, or light, dreamy and easily interrupted. 
6. Record of time of giving medicines. 
7. General condition and behavior of patient. 
In addition to these few points, the physician will 
tell you of any others that he may desire you to note, 
and they can be included in the diary. 
It would be well in very grave cases for you to learn 
how to feel the pulse and take the temperature (which 
the physician can instruct you how to do in a few min- 
utes), and doing so every hour, or as the doctor may 
direct, to incorporate this in your daily report. 
The temperature of the sick room must be carefully 
watched. Sudden or great changes will be terribly 
injurious to a very ill man or woman, and must not be 
allowed. Therefore a thermometer must be hung in 
the centre of the room, away from a window or door, 
and about the height of an ordinary man’s head from 
the floor, say between five and six feet. 
Unless under special instructions from the physi- 
cian, the temperature should never be allowed to 
exceed 70° nor to fall below 68° F. If the room is 
heated by a stove, you should endeavor, as far as 
possible, to put coal on when the patient is awake. 
If this is impossible, or if the sick man is very nervous 524 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
and is disturbed by the slightest noise, each piece of 
coal should be wrapped separately in soft paper, and 
laid gently and noiselessly on the fire with the hands. 
It would be much better for all sick-rooms to be 
heated with stoves, grates or open fire-places than 
from the cellar furnace, because the former will thor- 
oughly ventilate the room; by allowing a free exit for 
the foul, they will secure the entrance of a sufficiency 
of pure air; therefore, while they are preferable in all 
portions of all houses, at all times, they become doubly 
so in the invalid chamber. 
A very important point in connection with nursing 
the sick is “ bed-makingThe nervous susceptibility 
of any one when ill is greatly exaggerated and intensi- 
fied, and what would seem as but insignificant trifles to 
a person in health, become serious and dangerous to 
the invalid. The bed-clothing upon which the patient 
lies, i. e.} sheet, etc., should be always smooth; you 
must be careful not to allow crumbs from the meals to 
accumulate in the bed; they will annoy and irritate the 
body, and by so doing will unfavorably influence the 
mental state, and through it react to the detriment of 
the physical welfare of the individual. 
Where the nature of the disease will permit, the bed 
should be thoroughly made over every day, so that the 
sheets, etc. may be subjected to the purifying influence 
of the air; where this is impossible, the bed should, at 
least, be “ tidied up ” each day. It is wonderful what 
a refreshing and beneficial influence attention to these 
little details will have on an invalid. 
The pillow should be frequently turned. The poor 
sufferer, tossing with fever, with the head hot and DUTIES OF A NURSE. 
525 
bursting, will soon heat the pillow so that it will become 
very unpleasant. The under surface is cool and re- 
freshing ; turn it, and let the weary, aching head have 
a few minutes’ comfort on the cool side, and when it 
becomes hot, turn again, and so on. 
To make a good nurse, you must have judgment; 
to do anything properly, one must have judg- 
ment. There are very few universal rules that can 
be enunciated as without exceptions. In this small 
matter of pillow-turning, as in all the details of nursing, 
you must act with discretion. If the frequent disturb- 
ances necessary to change the pillow whenever it 
becomes warm seem to annoy and exhaust the patient, 
then you ought not to do so. 
If, on the contrary, the patient desires, and seems 
more comfortable after them, then you can rest assured 
that they are beneficial. Since cleanliness is such an 
important factor in the preservation of health, you will 
be prepared to believe that it must have a great 
influence in restoring those to health who are sick. 
And so it has. It is even more important for sick 
persons to be washed regularly and frequently than 
for those who are in good health. 
Therefore, nurses must consider the daily washing 
of their patients as one of their chief duties, unless it 
has been interdicted by the physician. 
But a certain amount of caution must be exercised 
in this washing. The face, hands and feet ought to be 
washed every day, while it will only be necessary to 
wash the entire surface two or three times a week. 
When the time comes around for this general washing; 
you must not expose the whole surface of the body at 526 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
once, because, remember that the sick man is very 
weak, and is much more likely to take cold than one in 
robust health. 
Expose only one limb or part of the body at a time, 
and with a soft old rag, and soap and water, wash it 
gently and thoroughly dry it, and go on to another 
part, until you have thus washed the whole body. 
If the patient is very weak, it will be well after this 
washing to anoint the whole surface with alcohol; this 
will be absorbed by the pores of the skin, and will tend 
to strengthen and give tone to the weakened body. 
The following formula will make a most agreeable and 
satisfactory mixture for this purpose, and will tend to 
greatly refresh and invigorate the body. It may also 
be used with advantage on the young baby after its 
daily bath. 
You should pour some of it into the hollow of your 
hand, and rub it well into all parts of the body. 
Alcohol, ....... i pint. 
Rose Water, - - “ 
Water, - - - - - yi “ 
When you know that medicines or drugs do not 
really cure disease, that they only help nature to work 
a cure, you are prepared to understand how anything 
that will favorably impress the forces of nature in the 
individual will tend to promote recovery from disease. 
Every one, in health, has experienced the delightful and 
refreshing sensation produced by a bath; how much 
better and stronger they have felt. Thus, then, they 
can understand how beneficial will be this bath, and 
particularly the tonic influence of the alcohol rubbing, 
on one in a weak and debilitated condition. 
It is equally as important that the body clothing of DUTIES OF A NURSE. 
527 
invalids should be frequently changed. It will do but 
little good to wash them, if soiled clothing is put back 
on their clean bodies. The clothing should be changed 
at least as frequently as in health, unless the condition 
of the sick person is so very precarious that the slight 
exertion necessary to effect this change would be 
sure to prove very disastrous. Any slight amount of 
fatigue will be more than counterbalanced by the re- 
freshing influence of the bath and clean clothing. 
Dr. Domville gives the five following valuable rules 
for the guidance of nurses when changing the patient’s 
clothing:— 
1. Never begin to change until you have all you are 
likely to require ready. 
2. Be careful that there is no draught on the patient 
from some open door or window. 
3. Let the fresh linen be properly aired and warmed 
beforehand. 
4. Do not move or uncover the patient more than is 
absolutely necessary. 
5. Do not let the patient help too much, and, on the 
other hand, take care that they (male patients espe- 
cially) do such things as they can and ought to do for 
themselves. 
It is very important that sick persons should be 
properly fed. While as a general rule the nurse ought 
strictly to follow the directions of the physician in this 
respect, yet there are certain cases in which the judg- 
ment of an intelligent nurse can be productive of very 
much good in this matter of feeding. 
Old Professor Samuel Jackson, who, many years ago, 
stood at the head of the medical profession in this city, 528 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
used to tell his classes of a case of brain fever in a lady 
patient of his. She was very ill, in fact, she was given 
up for death ; her case was considered hopeless. She 
could eat nothing, and was almost all the time uncon- 
scious. Being unable to eat, she was reduced to the 
last extremity of weakness, and her family stood around 
waiting for death. 
Finally, during one of her intervals of consciousness, 
she asked for some corned beef and cabbage. Dr. Jack- 
son, whose practical and logical mind has seldom been 
equaled, said she could have it. It was prepared, and 
she was allowed to eat all she desired. From that 
minute an improvement in her condition commenced, 
and she was soon well. 
From this, as well as from many similar cases in my 
own experience, I am led to conclude that, unless there 
are some very strong reasons against it, a sick person 
who has but little appetite should be immediately 
indulged in anything he or she may happen to crave. 
In the majority of cases this craving is the voice of 
the weakened system asking for something that it 
requires, and if it receives it, the chances are the 
stomach will digest it, and will furnish strength and 
nourishment to the body that will enable it to suc- 
cessfully combat and resist the exhausting influences 
of the disease. 
When the doctor so directs, the nurse should be 
very particular not to allow the patient to leave the 
bed to have the bowels moved or to pass water; some 
nurses and many patients fail to carry this out; the 
first, on account of laziness; the latter, because of the 
discomfort of having passages in bed. But I must tell DUTIES OF A NURSE. 
529 
you that the uncertain tide, in many serious cases, has 
been turned into a fatal channel by the exhaustion 
caused by the muscular effort of getting out of bed to 
attend to the calls of nature. 
The nurse must ever bear in mind the fact that when 
a person is seriously ill from disease, the whole body, 
every organ and every function, is very weak; their 
ability to act and maintain life is very precarious, their 
vigor is much lessened; therefore, they must be nursed 
very carefully, and their strength scrupulously con- 
served, else they will give out; the vital spark will be 
extinguished, and death will occur in cases that ought 
to get well. 
To make this point familiar and intelligible to you, I 
will make a rude comparison :— 
When, on a windy day, you strike a match, great 
care is necessary to protect the flame from the wind; 
in the majority of cases, the air will extinguish the 
commencing fire, as every smoker will bear evidence 
who has endeavored to light a. cigar on a windy day. 
But when the match has become well lighted, when the 
flame is strong and vigorous, you can expose this same 
match to the full force of the wind, and the flame will 
only burn the brighter; it will now seem impossible to 
extinguish the fire. 
The man in robust health can be compared to the 
match in full vigor. Exposure, exercise and the ordi- 
nary duties of life, will have no evil influence on his 
full vital strength; while the invalid can be appropri- 
ately likened to the match just starting into flame. 
Both must be carefully nursed, else the ordinary forces 
of nature will prove too much for this weakened and 530 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
flickering flame of life, and it will be extinguished un- 
necessarily soon. If you carefully nurse and nurture 
the weakened forces of the invalid, he will grow in 
strength as does the flame of the match, until, by de- 
grees, he will once more attain that degree of vigor 
that will enable him to successfully resist the very 
influences that would prove disastrous to him in his 
weakened condition. 
When using bed-pans, for the purpose of re- 
ceiving passages from the bowels or urine, it will be 
well always to thoroughly disinfect them after use. 
This can be accomplished by washing them well with 
one of the disinfectant solutions recommended in the 
chapter on “How to Avoid Disease.” After such 
washing, it should be thoroughly dried and laid away 
for the next time. 
Remember what I have said about the influence of 
decomposing organic material in producing disease, 
and realize that any little specs of matter from the 
bowels or bladder that may adhere to and be allowed 
to remain in the bed-pan will decompose, and may 
thus become the source of a poisoned atmosphere, 
the inhalation of which may and will do much toward 
retarding the recovery of your patient. 
If the disease you are nursing happens to be conta- 
gious or infectious, it will be well for you to frequently 
wash your own body with some disinfectant. For this 
purpose, I would recommend carbolic soap. You can 
frequently wash your hands with this soap, and it would 
be well if you could make the time, once a day, when 
your patient is asleep, to wash your whole body with 
the same, being careful not to get the soap in your 
eyes, because it will irritate and make them sore. SICK-ROOM COOKERY. 
531 
By following this advice and using the precautions 
for disinfecting your clothing already recommended, 
you will constantly destroy the disease germs as fast 
as they form, and while thus affording protection to 
yourself, will at the same time reduce to the minimum 
the danger of carrying the disease away with you and 
spreading it abroad. 
It will sometimes be necessary and advisable, in 
obscure cases, to have a post-mortem examination 
made, to determine the cause of death, when it has 
been impossible during life to ascertain the nature of 
the disease. 
When such is the case, the nurse ought to have 
ready, in the room, some hot and cold water, sponges, 
plenty of towels, and a couple of empty pails; the 
doctor will supply the balance. 
SICK-ROOM COOKERY. 
Since diet is a very important consideration in the 
care of the sick, than which none other holds a higher 
rank, it is well that those nursing should know how to 
properly prepare food for the invalid. 
Many good cook-books have been written, which 
detail the preparation of food for the sick, therefore, I 
will confine myself to giving you directions how to 
prepare the most commonly ordered nourishment. 
Meat Jelly.—Take one pound each of rump steak 
and lean mutton, cut up very fine and put into a jar; 
cover over or tie down tightly, place the jar in a sauce- 
pan half full of water, and let it stand three hours on 
the fire; then press the meat through a sieve, and add 
to the essence half an ounce of isinglass dissolved in a 
quarter of a pint of water; when cold take off the fat. 532 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
Port Wine Jelly is made by dissolving half an ounce 
of isinglass in a wineglassful of water, with a couple of 
lumps of sugar, in an oven or ol/er a gentle fire ; then 
add five wineglassfuls of port wine, and stir contin- 
ually for ten minutes ; strain through muslin, and pour 
into a mould moistened with a little clean cold water, 
and set aside to cool; a piece the size of an egg may 
be taken two or three times a day. If desired, a little 
nutmeg or cinnamon may be grated into the wine 
before adding it to the isinglass. 
Beef Tea may be prepared in two ways, but the pre- 
paratory stage is the same in both; the beef should 
be finely divided, and all fat should, if possible, be re- 
moved ; it should then be placed in a jar containing 
cold water, in the proportion of one pound of beef 
to one pint of water; let the jar stand for an hour; 
then place it either in an oven, or if this is not practi- 
cable, in a saucepan half full of water, and let the water 
in the saucepan gently boil for another hour; then 
strain through muslin and flavor according to taste. 
Beef tea may be rapidly prepared by placing the jar 
containing the meat, finely divided, without any water, 
in an oven for twenty minutes; then add boiling water, 
according to the quantity required. 
Mutton Broth.—The lean part of necks and loins 
should be chosen, be cut up into small pieces, and all 
superfluous fat should be removed; about one pound 
of neck of mutton thus prepared should be placed in a 
saucepan containing a pint of cold water, and placed 
on the fire, and as the scum rises to the top it should 
be carefully removed; when this ceases, let the broth 
boil for about two hours; strain and flavor. A tea- 533 
SICK-ROOM COOKERY 
spoonful of pearl barley, added when the broth begins 
to boil, will often prove an agreeable addition. 
Chicken Broth is prepared by immersing the chicken 
in cold water in a saucepan, and letting it boil for two 
hours, skimming off the fat that rises to the surface. 
Chicken Panada is made by rubbing together in a 
mortar the meat from the breast and wings of a roast 
or boiled chicken, with an equal quantity of stale 
bread; then add gradually the water in which the 
chicken was boiled, or other broth; boil for a few min- 
utes and rub through a fine sieve. 
Beef Tea Custard.—Beat up the white of one egg 
with the yolk of two, with a little salt, add a small wine- 
glassful of beef tea, strained through a cloth, mix, and 
pour the mixture into a pot, lightly buttered, tie it over 
and set in a pan of boiling water, taking care that the 
boiling water in the pan is as high as the contents of 
the jar. 
Calve’s Foot Jelly.—Thoroughly clean two calves’ 
feet, cut into pieces and stew in two quarts of water 
until reduced to one quart; when cold, take off the fat, 
and separate the jelly from the sediment. Then put 
the jelly into a saucepan, with white wine and brandy, 
and flavoring to taste, with the shells and whites of 
four eggs, well mixed together, boil for a quarter of an 
hour, cover, and let it stand for a short time, and strain 
while hot into a mould through a flannel bag. 
Barley Cream.—Soak an ounce of pearl barley in 
cold water for two or three hours ; take half a pound 
of veal cutlet, pounded to a pulp, and rub through a 
sieve with the barley; then boil with two or three 
tablespoonfuls of cream. 534 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
Bread Jelly is made of stale bread steeped in boil- 
ing water, and then rubbed through a sieve or piece 
of muslin, flavored with sugar or salt, according to 
taste, and set aside to cool. 
HOW TO COOK AN EGG. 
1. Simple Boiling.—Set a saucepan nearly full of 
water on the fire, and when the water boils, put the egg 
in with a spoon and leave it from two to three minutes. 
2. Poached.—Put a tablespoonful of salt into a 
saucepan full of boiling water; then break the egg 
carefully into it and let it boil gently for three minutes ; 
then take it out with a large spoon, set it on a plate to 
drain and serve on toast. 
3. Break the egg into a cup, then stir the water in 
the saucepan rapidly round with a stick, and as it is 
whirling, drop in the egg, and let it revolve for three 
minutes, then serve on toast. 
4. How to Make Omelettes.—Place a good-sized 
piece of butter or lard in a clean frying pan, and while 
it is dissolving break the egg or eggs, according to the 
size of omelette required, into a cup containing two 
dessertspoonfuls of milk for each egg, and mix them 
well together with a fork, adding the flavoring, sugar, 
or salt, pepper, parsley, etc., as required, and when the 
fat is hot enough pour the egg-mass into the middle 
of the pan, and keep up a constant, though gentle agi- 
tation of the pan all the time, for about five minutes, to 
prevent the egg-mass from sticking to the bottom, then 
roll it together like a pancake. 
5. Snow Eggs.—Take a small tea-cup of new milk, 
and boil it in a small, shallow saucepan, with a little 
sugar; while it is boiling break the egg, putting the SICK-ROOM COOKERY. 
yolk and white in separate cups, whip up the white to 
a fine, light froth, and when the milk is quite boiling, 
take of the white, a large spoonful at a time, place it 
on the top of the milk for a moment or two, then turn 
it, and when sufficiently solid lift it out on a broad, flat 
spoon or slice; then mix up the yolk with some sugar, 
add the boiling milk, mix, and boil again for a few 
minutes, then pour around the white and serve. 
Brandy Mixture is made by beating up an egg 
(or the yolk only, if it is desired to make it lighter) 
with some sugar, then gradually add a wineglassful of 
cold water, stirring carefully all the while, and then a 
wineglassful of brandy. 
White Wine Whey is made by adding a wine- 
glassful of sherry to half a pint of boiling milk, and 
then pour the resulting curds and whey on a strainer 
and serve hot. 
Treacle Posset.—A tablespoonful of treacle takes 
the place of the sherry, and a little additional boiling 
is required. 
Oatmeal Gruel.—Mix two tablespoonfuls of oat- 
meal, very smooth, in a little cold water; then add it 
gently to half a pint of water; put it on the fire, and 
boil for a quarter of an hour, stirring constantly; ..then 
flavor with lemon peel, sugar, nutmeg, etc., according 
to taste, and strain through muslin while hot. 
Sago requires to be soaked a little while before using; 
an ounce should be placed in a pint of water, and 
stood on the hob, or in the oven for two hours ; then 
boil for a quarter of an hour, and flavor to taste. 
Arrowroot may be prepared with either milk or 
water; if it is desired to add wine or brandy, water is 
preferable. 536 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
Mix a dessertspoonful of arrowroot with a little cold 
water or milk, in a cup, then add half a pint of boiling 
milk or water, stirring all the time. 
Arrowroot Pudding.—Add yolks of two eggs to 
above, with a teaspoonful of powdered white sugar, 
mix well, and bake in a lightly-buttered dish for ten or 
fifteen minutes. 
Custard Pudding.—Break an egg into a cup, and 
mix thoroughly with sugar; then add milk to nearly 
fill the cup, mix again and tie over with a small piece 
of linen; place the cup in a shallow saucepan, half full 
of water, and boil for ten minutes. If it is desired to 
make a light batter pudding a teaspoonful of flour 
should be mixed in with the milk before tying up. 
Rice Blancmange.—Simmer half a pint of milk 
with a tablespoonful of pounded white sugar until near 
boiling; then stir in two ounces or one large table- 
spoonful of ground rice, previously mixed with half a 
pint of milk, till smooth ; boil for ten minutes, stirring 
all the while, and pour into a moistened mould and 
serve it cold. 
Corn Flour Pudding.—Take one pint of milk, and 
mix it with two tablespoonfuls of the flour; flavor to 
taste, then boil the whole eight minutes; allow it to 
cool in a mould, and serve with or without jam. 
Lemonade.—Pare a lemon very thin, and remove as 
much as possible of the white substance underneath; 
then cut it into thin slices, and put them, with the par- 
ings of rind, into a jug with some white sugar; then add 
a pint of boiling water, let it stand till cold, strain and 
add ice. 
Imperial Drink is made by dissolving a drachm of 
cream of tartar in the boiling water added to the lem- SICK-ROOM COOKERY. 
537 
onade as above. This preparation can be kept on 
hand and used freely in warm weather by those who 
suffer from the heat, and who feel dry and hot. By 
drinking it freely the action of the kidneys and skin 
will be promoted, and thus much of the superfluous 
heat will be removed. 
Barley Water.—Take two ounces of pearl barley, 
and having twice washed it in cold water, boil for 
twenty minutes in a pint and a half of water; strain and 
flavor with lemon peel and sugar to suit taste. 
Toast Water.—Take a slice of stale bread or bot- 
tom crust of loaf, toast it carefully without burning, put 
it in a jar, and pour over it boiling water; let it stand 
to cool. 
Linseed Tea.—To half an ounce of unbruised linseed, 
with a drachm of liquorice, in a covered jar, add a pint 
of boiling water; let the infusion stand on the hob or 
near the fire for three or four hours ; strain and flavor 
to taste, 
Rice Water.—Wash an ounce of rice in a strainer, 
with cold water; then put the washed rice, with an 
inch of cinnamon stick, into a stewpan with a pint of 
boiling water; boil for an hour, then strain and sweet- 
en to taste. 
Apple Water.—Take six peeled apples, quarter 
them, and take out cores and pips ; then cut into thin 
slices, put them, with the rind of half a lemon, cut very 
thin, and an ounce of loaf sugar, into a jar, pour on a 
quart of boiling water and let it stand to cool. 
It is more important than one would at first suppose, 
that a nurse should have some knowledge of sick-room 
cookery; because very often the physician will say, 
“ keep the patient on low dietthe majority of persons 538 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
do not know what this means. It means food prepared 
according to the formulas I have given. Very few 
persons know how to make beef tea or broths properly; 
by keeping this book near you and referring to this 
chapter, you can be accurately guided in this most 
important question at any time. 
In conclusion, I will impress upon nurses the neces- 
sity of being quiet in a sick-room. You should wear 
slippers and move about with as little noise as possi- 
ble ; remember that the nervous system of an invalid is 
in an abnormal, a very excited condition, and will be 
injuriously influenced by causes and noises that would 
have no effect whatever on one in health. 
Do not carry on long and loud conversations; if it 
is necessary to say anything, say it and be done with 
it, but do not use any unnecessary words. 
Avoid whispered conversations ; they annoy and irri- 
tate the sick person, who imagines that you are talking 
about him, and strains his faculties to endeavor to 
catch what you are saying. Sick men and women, 
particularly if they are dangerously ill, are very suspi- 
cious, and when they see persons talking together in a 
whisper, are very apt to. imagine that the nurse is 
telling the others how very ill he or she is, and this 
idea worries and annoys them. 
I once knew a nurse (she was a female professional 
nurse) who in the evenings would sit on a rocking 
chair and rock, and rock, cracking her toes the while, 
until she succeeded in making her patient so nervous 
that sleep was impossible. 
Therefore, in addition to what I have said before, the 
nurse must be particularly careful to do everything 
quietly, and not to make any unnecessary noise. APPENDIX. 
539 
APPENDIX. 
When I conceived the idea of writing this book, 
the first thought that entered my mind was to make 
it as practical as possible. 
In order to do so, it occurred to me that if I could 
find out the method of life pursued by those who 
had attained great age, my purpose would be best 
accomplished. 
To do this, I addressed a circular letter to the 
mayors of all the cities of the United States containing 
a population of over twenty-five hundred, asking them 
to furnish me the names of all of their aged and 
intelligent citizens. 
To this letter I received very many replies, giving 
me an enormous number of names. 
Then to these gentlemen I addressed the following 
letter:— 
Philadelphia, Pa. 
Dear Sir:—I am collecting material.for a work to be entitled “ How 
We Ought To Live.” The object being to demonstrate to my fellow- 
creatures the course of life to be pursued to insure to each and every 
one the greatest possible longevity consistent with the vital power born 
in them. A most valuable contribution to this knowledge, indeed, I 
may say, the most important of all, is the dissemination of the rules of 
living which have been pursued by those among us who have attained 
great age. With this object in view, and urged on by the desire to 
benefit our fellow-creatures, I take the liberty of asking you to help me 
in my work by answering the following questions. I trust my object 
will be sufficient excuse for addressing you and intruding my inquiries 
into your private affairs, and that you will generously aid me in my 
undertaking, and will procure for me answers to these questions from as 
many of your aged friends as possible :— 
1. Age of father at time of death and cause ? 
2. “ mother “ “ “ 540 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
3. Did you inherit from your parents a predisposition to any disease 
calculated to shorten life, and if so, to what cause do you attribute its 
non-development ? 
4. Mode of life during boyhood; were you raised in the city or the 
country ; were you accustomed to much physical exercise ? 
5. Was and is your temperament sanguine or otherwise ? 
6. What have been and are your habits in regard to the use of tobacco 
and alcohol ? 
7. Has your occupation through life been of an active or sedentary 
nature ? 
8. Have you had much sickness, if so, of what nature ? 
9. Have you used and do you still use tea or coffee ? 
10. Have you been and are you still careful of your diet? 
11. What are your rules for rest and sleep ? 
12. Have you always been careful of your health ? 
13. Was your constitution naturally robust or delicate ? 
14. What is your present age ? 
15. Do you still enjoy vigorous health ? 
16. What is your nationality ? 
Any other information which may be of service to my work I shall be 
grateful to receive. Should you desire it, your name will be kept 
strictly private. For the integrity of my purpose in addressing you, I 
would refer, by permission, to the Hon. Eli K. Price, of Philadelphia, 
and to Joseph Leidy, m.d., ll.d., Professor of Anatomy in the Medical 
Department, University of Pennsylvania. Let me again offer my purpose 
as an excuse for addressing you. Very Respectfully, 
Joseph F. Edwards. 
Please consider this a written letter. As I am seeking the same in- 
formation from thousands of sources in various parts of the country, it 
would be impossible for me to write each letter. 
In answer to this letter I received very many replies. 
The majority of them, being- simply categorical answers 
to my questions, have been used in the body of this 
work; their essence has been extracted and utilized 
in enabling me to formulate my laws of longevity. 
But some of my correspondents went into the question 
more at length, and I have selected from these the 
best, to form my Appendix. They have been thus 
grouped together for a purpose ; those who may con- 
sider them dry reading need not look at them, and yet 
will not lose any of the essential points of the book; 
while those who desire to know how old men live, can 
peruse them with interest. By referring to the letter APPENDIX. 
541 
just given, you will be able to comprehend any of 
the answers that may be referred to by numbers. To 
make this more clear, when you find a letter answered, 
in which you note “3. Yes,” or “10. No,” by referring 
to this circular letter you can comprehend what is 
meant by the writer. 
With this explanation, which I trust will make my 
Appendix clear, I will now give you these letters, from 
which I am sure you can learn much. You must, of 
course, use your common sense and judgment; you 
must take what these old men say, and reasoning from 
their experience, formulate laws for yourself, aided 
and directed by the general rules that have been form- 
ulated throughout this work. 
Newburyport, Mass., May 10, 1881. 
Dr. Edwards:— 
Dear Sir:—Your circular is before me. I regret 
you do not rake up somebody better qualified to an- 
swer your purpose, and perhaps I may take you too 
far around, but I will endeavor to make my answers as 
concise as possible. My grandfather Hicks was born 
near London ; as soon as he grew up he was pressed 
on board of a man-of-war, and not far from Boston he 
got a chance and made his escape. The next I hear 
of him, he is in the State of Maine, not far from Mount 
Desert, with three sons and three daughters grown up. 
The three sons you might travel far and not meet their 
match. They were raised on fish, with bread or 
potatoes occasionally. One died with the smallpox 
when he was a young man; the other two lived to 
middle age. My father died at 62 years of age. The 
cause was tippling rum. My uncle had died before, 542 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
from the same cause. My father’s teeth, when he died, 
were perfectly sound, which I thought might be caused 
by his living exclusively on fish. My mother’s ances- 
tors came to Pennsylvania with old Wm. Penn. They 
were Quakers, and after the Revolutionary War moved 
to St. Johns, New Brunswick. As there were no 
Quakers there, they joined the Episcopal Church. 
My grandfather’s name was David Halbridge, and my 
mother, his daughter Sarah, was born in Philadelphia, 
and married my father in St. Johns. One brother and 
myself, the fruit of that union, still live. He will be 
80 years old next Christmas. My name is William 
Woodbury Hicks. I am past 81 years of age, free 
from pains and aches, use no tobacco, drink no rum or 
any other drink except cold water. Sometimes I take 
a cup of weak tea ; at other times warm water; I am 
not particular, so long as I can get some sugar in it. I 
have seldom been sick; I have always had too much hard 
work to do to take the time. I was boss in the ship- 
yard much of my lifetime, where the men all boarded 
together, and I spent many jolly hours among them; 
this world is not all on the dark side, and there is much 
to live for. Some of my youthful days were spent at 
Halifax, at school, but at 11 years of age I was sent to 
school at Cumberland, and at 15 I was taken into the 
shipyard, with plenty of hard work and poor living, 
and to add to my trouble, I had a pain in my breast, 
caused by leaning against the desk. After I had tried 
everything, to no purpose, I commenced taking a drink 
of cold spring water every morning. It dropped off 
at last, but I still continue to take the cold water. 
Perhaps it will follow me to the grave, but I don’t APPENDIX. 
543 
care if it does, I am not going to make any fuss about 
it. My friend, I fear I have written more nonsense 
than you bargained for. My mother died at seventy 
years of age, but her parents did not live to be 
old, and died before I was born. I inherited nothing 
from my parents and think they were perfectly healthy. 
My boyish days were spent mostly at school: My 
temper, while young, I could say, like old Dr. Watts, 
“ a fool cannot insult me and no other will.” I have now 
begun my planting; I raise what vegetables I require, 
and plenty of apples. You can use my name if you 
wish. I require no help, lead a middling active life, 
saw my own wood, and when I get out of work, I 
visit the shipyard and meet my old friends. I have no 
rheumatic pains. Now, one thing I will state: a mother 
has something to do, whether her children shall be 
myths or be noble men and women, as God made them. 
I was taught to lisp the Lord’s prayer as soon as I was 
old enough to do so, and this I think has something to 
do with my old age. Perhaps you will say fanatic: but I 
am impressed that seed thus sown will impregnate or 
generate in that bosom something that can never be 
lost. Now, God bless your effort to serve your fellow- 
creatures. Yours, 
(Signed) Hicks. 
This little item from a daily contemporary will possess 
interest:— 
“ Dr. Pelatiah Dwight, groomsman at the marriage 
of President Hayes’ father, has just celebrated his 
ninety-seventh birthday at Adams, N. Y. He still 
keeps about, though his sight and hearing are impaired 
by age.” 544 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
The following account of a man who has evidently 
known how to live will be worth reading by all:— 
A REMARKABLE CENTENARIAN. 
The Activity of a Man at One Hundred and Three. 
At Dorset, Vt., just across the imaginary line which 
separates Canada from the United States, resides a 
very remarkable centenarian, named Isaac Farewell, 
who has just entered upon his one hundred and third 
year. Born at the time of Washington’s first term as 
president, he has lived, and, since manhood, taken part 
in the politics of the day, under every President up to 
the last term of Grant. He was in the Canada war of 
i8'2, and fought for the Americans at Queenstown 
Heights, Lundy’s Lane, and in a great number 
of minor skirmishes during that memorable epoch in 
Canadian and American history. At the close of the 
war he resumed his occupation of a farmer, near Dor- 
set, Vt., and has since acquired considerable means. 
At his age he is a marvel of activity, walking daily 
from his farm to town, over a mile, and doing the 
family marketing. His memory was as acute on New 
Year’s day as it was forty years ago. He was always 
a temperate person, using little spirits. He was twice 
married, and has had seven children, two of whom, a 
son and a daughter, are living at present. The son 
was seventy-five years old last birthday, and the 
daughter seventy. The family are all more or less 
politicians, and have been connected with the political 
movements in their State on every important occasion 
during their lives. Mr. Farewell is a strict Presby- 
terian, attends church regularly, and contributes his 
share to its revenues. A nephew from this city visited APPENDIX. 
545 
him quite recently and states that his uncle spoke to 
him, although seventy-three years old himself, as a 
comparative boy. The old man, two years since, 
learned the trade of making wicker baskets, as a means 
of passing away the time, and it was remarked that so 
“old a boy” to begin a trade was seldom heard of. 
To all appearances he may live many years yet. 
Jersey Shore, Lycoming Co., Pa., Jan. 3d, 1881. 
Dr. J. F. Edwards :— 
I enclose to you a very hasty answer to your ques- 
tions in relation to my experience of health. The delay 
of answer is on account of absence from home. The 
enclosed was hastily drawn up in the evening, without 
giving it the consideration its merits require. I was 
fearful of giving it in the extended form or language, 
as I now see, in my own view, would have been of the 
greater importance. Please let me know of the recep- 
tion of the enclosed. Very truly yours, 
(1Signed) Alexander H. McHenry. 
1. My father died of bilious fever; aged 64 years, 2 
months. 
2. Mother had what was termed King’s Evil some 
four years previous to death ; age 43 years. 
3. Did not inherit any disease from parents, ever 
developed. 
4. In early boyhood on my father’s farm (Allegheny 
Co., N. Y.); limited school privileges. Acquired strong 
disposition for reading—geographical, military history, 
being of a military race four generations; subse- 
quently the divine truths of the Bible. Never read or 
had any taste for light reading. My reasoning powers 
have strengthened with my years, 546 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
5- Thoughtful; come to conclusions by investigation 
of facts presented; seldom, if ever, by impulse; little 
or no difficulty in retaining decisions thus arrived at. 
6. Smoked about one-third of a cigar ; took one 
chew of tobacco to cure toothache in 1831. Never 
acquired a habit of using alcoholic spirits. Used none 
from 1833. Surgeon U. S. Army prescribed four 
draughts of brandy; refused Nos. 1 and 2 ; Nos. 3 and 
4 taken at the request of my wife. Have been in sec- 
tions of country where the water was not palatable ; if 
it was not proper to drink it I had no disposition to do 
so. My appetite, being uninjured and natural, as the 
horse or ox, I discriminate, when feeding, between 
healthy and nutritious vegetable matter and poison- 
ous ; when in the hot Southern climate, many of my 
comrade officers, who, by counsel of surgeons, took 
brandy, etc., to purify the water, took the fever and 
died. 
7. Much of my manhood has been passed in en- 
gineering, field surveying; several years an officer in 
the artillery and cavalry; all has been active service, 
encamping in the open air. 
8. Have had short attacks of fever, July and August, 
1837; typhoid fever, 1862. June, 1864, was wounded 
by fragment, also concussion of a shell; was confined 
to the hospital two and a half months; upon my 
recovery the dregs of the typhoid had gone. 
9. Have and do use tea or coffee at meals. 
10. Have not found it necessary to use any especial 
care of my diet; dictated by appetite. 
11. Have no special rule for time of retiring; gen- 
erally rise at 5.30 a. m. short days, 4 or 4.30 long APPENDIX. 
547 
days; don’t sleep sound; fall asleep soon after retir- 
ing. Scarcely ever dream when sleeping in open 
air. Prefer a hard bed; custom has something to do 
with it. From sleep to awake instantly. 
12. Up to the age of 17 did not give special care 
to the preservation of health. From 17 to 21 made 
myself somewhat acquainted with anatomy, by reading 
works upon the subject, also of an elementary charac- 
ter, which has been of great benefit; and growing into 
the habit of taking care of my health, by the dictates of 
common sense, and dictated by my feelings and senses, 
such as when coming in doors, especially in cold or 
damp weather, drawing my boots, holding my feet to 
the heat of fire ; also in the evening drawing my boots, 
place my feet upon a chair or stool in front, next to the 
fire, for perhaps one and a half or two hours, while 
reading the current news or otherwise. Never sit 
with damp feet, or rather their covering. If my cloth- 
ing gets wet by storm or otherwise, always dry them 
on my person. Instead of the wetting being detri- 
mental to health, found it of decided benefit. I have 
not at any time had the rheumatism. 
13. Constitution naturally robust; full breast, lungs 
strong and to the present unimpaired; also my voice 
unimpaired or weakened. 
14. Age, 71 years, 4 months. 
15. The 2d January, 1882. My health is good. 
Mind unimpaired so far as strength of mind and 
correct conclusions are concerned, except it takes a 
preater time to arrive at conclusions, and am more for- 
getiui of the location of things recently handled; but 
conclusions perhaps better arrived at or subjects better 548 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
digested by the application of observations of a life ex- 
perience. 
16. Nationality. On both sides ancestors were 
Scotch-Irish, from Antrim County, Ireland. Grand- 
father, of my own name, came from Colerain, Antrim 
County, Ireland, to the Province of New York, in com- 
pany with the father, grandfather, and mother of DeWitt 
Clinton, in 1739. Mother’s family came from same 
county, about 1753, to the Province of Pennsylvania. 
Our family’s ancestral name, from the year 1602, was 
Me, except my mother’s mother, whose maiden name 
was Espy. 
When I was wounded and prostrated, in 1864, my 
will had very much to do in saving me to society, 
family and country. 
P. S.—My custom has been, for some years, if I con- 
tract a cold, as soon as practicable, bathe my feet in 
warm water for two hours, or until I get in a good per- 
spiration, wipe dry, put on socks, hold them to the fire 
two hours more, if this is in the evening. Next morn- 
ing the cold is cured. You can make such use of the 
foregoing as you may consider important, without 
reserve or privacy. Alexander H. McHenry. 
Jersey Shore, Lycoming Co., Pa. 
N. B.—From fifty years’ observation, this is the 
conclusion: the use of tobacco, alcoholic spirits (or drug 
compounds called by different names, dating from my 
own known knowledge, latter part of 1832), opium— 
perhaps the greatest evil is, they transform the natural 
system to unnatural, destroying the natural tastes and 
appetites, and thus preventing the natural or instinctive 
tastes and appetites from discriminating and pointing APPENDIX. 
549 
to the remedy, to correcting the natural system. Many 
drunkards are made and disease perpetuated by 
physicians’ prescriptions to use and mix medicine 
with whisky. 
Williamsport, Dec. 8th, 1881. 
Dr. Edwards:— 
Dear Sir:—Your letter of inquiry has been received, 
and I cheerfully furnish the statistics, &c., requested. 
1. My father, Nathan Emery, was born Dec. 6th, 
1773, at Newbury, Mass., and died at Canterbury, N. 
H., February 19th, 1850, probably of general decay; 
aged seventy-six years, two months, thirteen days. 
2. My mother, Betsy (McCrilles) Emery, was born 
at Canterbury, N. H., August 8th, 1780, and died at 
Lowell, Mass., at the home of her son, Major Henry 
Emory, August 6th, 1852, aged seventy-one years, 
eleven months, twenty-eight days. 
3. I inherited from parents no predisposition to any 
disease calculated to shorten life. My father and 
mother were both free from all hereditary taints, and 
through life were persons of pure and exemplary 
character. 
4. Was raised in the country; was never accus- 
tomed to any very hard physical labor, but was always 
very active in body and mind; worked on a farm till I 
was about fourteen ; when not working, or eating, or 
sleeping, or reading, or studying, was fishing, gunning, 
climbing chestnut trees in the summer and sliding 
down hill in the winter, and acting, generally, as (good) 
country boys do. My mother and father were religious 
(Congregationalists). Of course, I was always in at 
prayers ; learned my catechism; went to meeting twice 
every Sunday, summer and winter; had no fire ;n the 550 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
meeting-house, and the services lasted about two hours 
in the forenoon, and two in the afternoon ; on Sunday 
evenings went to conference meeting, and, generally, 
once a week, to the regular evening lecture meeting. 
Play came very natural to me, and I don’t think I ever 
injured myself by over-exertion, either at play or at 
work. 
5. I hardly know how to describe my temperament. 
It certainly is not phlegmatic, and I could hardly call it 
sanguine. My pulse never beat very fast regularly. 
Since the assassination I have been in the habit of 
counting it,and it has never gone above sixty per minute, 
unless unduly excited. My caution is pretty fully de- 
veloped ; I never could be driven into wild speculation, 
or into any action to benefit myself at the expense of 
others. Though I am naturally high tempered, I have 
generally been in the habit of holding my temper under 
restraint. Perhaps the term average even tempera- 
ment would describe mine. 
7. I have through life been active in out-door exercise. 
Have been a lawyer by profession, which requires a 
good deal of office-work, and have through life, and 
especially in my later years, devoted a great deal of 
my time to scientific studies in my library. I have, 
however, since marriage, cultivated a garden, while a 
housekeeper, and now, during the season, I cultivate a 
flower garden, and in the winter watch the plants and 
flowers in the conservatory and in my library-room. 
Though now upward of eighty, I am in the habit of 
walking three to four miles every day. 
8. When too young to remember it I had the 
measles very severely; at the age of nine and a half I 
had the whooping-cough very severely, in company with APPENDIX. 
551 
a sister (younger) who died of it; in 1827 had the fever 
and ague, staying then near Round Lake, in Saratoga 
County, N. Y., then a very malarious district; about 
thirty years ago had a typhoid fever, contracted in 
taking care of a young daughter who had it; stayed in 
the room with her night and day; otherwise have 
been very healthy. 
9. Have used tea and coffee from childhood up to 
fourscore. 
o. Have never paid much attention to what I ate ; 
have generally obeyed the scriptural injunction, and 
ate whatever was set before me, asking no questions, 
for my stomach’s sake. It has happened, however, 
that all through life, both in my father’s family and in 
my various boarding houses, as well as in my own 
family, the food that was set before me has been, 
generally, of the most healthy and nourishing kind. 
11. I have no rules for rest and sleep. While a 
student in an academy, while in college, while I had a 
family of my own, and since my family was dissolved 
by the death of my wife and the formation of new fami- 
lies by all my nine children, I have seldom indulged in 
a day nap; and often when engaged in a study that 
interested me, I have found myself awake and sleep- 
less at eleven, and twelve, and one, and two o’clock in 
the morning. 
12. I have never been in the habit of thinking much 
about the preservation of my health; have never dosed 
myself with medicines, quack, or otherwise, but my 
general habits, in eating and drinking, and in the exer- 
cise of mind and body, have all been conducive to 
health and long life. I have, as it were by intuition, 55 2 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
avoided all things that had a tendency to injure my 
health. 
13. When I was young my general health was good, 
but I was small and the petted one of our family of 
sixteen children. When I was twenty I weighed less 
than 120; at twenty-eight, about 125; I now weigh 
from 165 to 170, according to the season of the year. 
14. I was born in Canterbury, N. H., Nov. 30, 1801, 
at 11.55 p. m. and consequently now (Dec. 8, 1881, at 
10 p. m.) 80 years and 8 days old, lacking 1 hour and 
55 minutes. 
15. I still enjoy vigorous health; am still, as I always 
have been, erect; do not stoop at all, and except for 
my hair and face, few people would judge me to be 
over 50 years of age. 
16. On my father’s side my male ancestors came 
from Romsey, in the south of England, in the ship 
James, in 1635, and settled at once in Newbury, Mass. 
Of the family immigrating were John Emery, Sr., wife 
and son, John Jr., and daughter Anna. Old John 
Emery, from whom I descended, was noted for his 
defence of Quakers ; paid a number of fines for enter- 
taining, and had a great contempt for the insanity of 
witchcraft. 
My mother’s father was born in this country, but her 
grandfather in the north of Ireland. They were Scotch- 
Irish. My mother’s mother, Susanna Webster, was of 
English descent, and was a native of Newbury, Mass. 
John Emery, of Romsey, died at 85. On both my 
father’s and mother’s side, my ancestors have been 
long-lived. 
I may mention, as a matter of some interest, that I APPENDIX. 
am one of a family of sixteen having the same father 
and mother (5 females and 11 males). Two of the 
girls died young—one of whooping cough; aged three 
years and five months—the other from some organic 
defect of the heart, aged one year and eight months. 
Another, a male, died of a fever, in Havana, in 1824, 
aged nearly 20. The next death in the family was in 
1864, a brother, a prisoner of war in a Southern prison; 
aged 53. The next who died was one of twin sisters, 
of typhoid fever, about twelve years ago; aged about 
53 years. The next who died was the youngest of the 
family, in 1873, aged 46; died of disease of the liver. 
The last who died (Aug. 7, 1877) was a brother, 77 
years and months. I am the third in the family. 
The oldest and youngest but one are still living. The 
average of our ages (nine of us) is now 71 years and 
10 months. The oldest one in the family, born Jan. 
10, 1799, is a hale, hearty, old man, and a nephew 
writes me that he is seriously talking of marrying a 
third wife, in order to raise up an heir, the first two 
having failed to produce one. 
Very respectfully yours, 
[Signed) J. Emery. 
I will at any time answer any further questions you 
may propound. 
James Burrell, of Central City, Colorado, thus an- 
swers my questions:— 
1. Seventy-five years, six months and five days; 
infirmities of old age. 
2. Thirty-nine years, four months and twenty-five 
days. Lung Fever. 
3. No known predisposition, or cause of non- 
development. 554 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
4. Farming until fourteen years of age, then worked 
as a carpenter for ten years in a city, seafaring for 
five years, piano work for ten years, mechanical and 
mining work for three years, war three years, civil 
offices to date, January ist, 1882. 
5. Sanguine and bilious. 
6. Very temperate. 
7. Active and sedentary. 
8. But little sickness. Kidney trouble at present. 
9. Both moderately. 
10. Always careful. Sometimes fasting by omitting 
supper. 
11. In peace and on land, regular; at sea and in war, 
very irregular. 
12. Duty first, and health second; have been pretty 
careful. 
13. Moderately robust. 
14. Nearly sixty-seven. Born March 27th, 1815. 
15. So as to superintend my affairs in person, but 
not very robust. 
16. American; born in Bucksport, State of Maine. 
Central City, Colorado, Jan’y 4th, 1882. 
Dr. Joseph F. Edwards:— 
Dear Sir :—As you invite further information than 
answers to the inclosed questions, which I have an- 
swered as well as the brief spaces would permit, I 
will add a few suggestions learned by my own obser- 
vation and experience in regard to myself. 
I find that when, from any cause, my stomach is 
disturbed, perhaps from over-eating, hurried eating, or 
eating or drinking anything injurious or disturbing, 
by inciting the secretions of saliva in my mouth and APPENDIX. 
555 
swallowing them immediately, relief is almost always 
afforded very soon, and digestion follows nearly as 
naturally and easily as though more time and greater 
care had been taken in eating or drinking. And when, 
from any cause, digestion does not take place, but 
nausea and vomiting seem inevitable, I resort to 
drinking warm water till vomiting does ensue, instead 
of driving the' mean and disgusting contents of the 
stomach through me with physic. And I may add 
further, that it has been a habit of my whole life to 
avoid, in my clothing, anything that might hinder the 
free and full expansion of my lungs, and in my later 
years have often indulged in the comforting and 
strengthening habit of long and deep inhalations of 
breathing pure (not too cold) air through the nostrils 
to the lungs, and exhaling the same through the 
mouth. Truly yours, James Burrell. 
Amesbury, Fifth month ioth, 1881. 
Respected Friend:—I am not sure of my father’s 
age; think about 50. Lived in the country most of 
the time until I was 30. Was in a cotton factory 
nearly 30 years; then in grocery business some years. 
Have been a hard worker most of my life. Have had 
considerable illness. Have been temperate in food 
and drink. Used tobacco until I was 65 ; then left 
off. Have used some liquor, but only when it was 
needed. Use tea and coffee. My health has been 
feeble for some time, but am able to get about consid- 
erably. When a boy I was apprenticed to a farmer, 
and had very hard usage until I was 15. I went to 
his house when I was only about 6. 
I have had to be somewhat careful of my health and 556 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
diet. My habits generally regular. My father was a 
Scotchman, but I was born here. 
I was born Eleventh month 12th, 1789, making me 
in my 92d year. James Squires. 
Dr. Edwards:— 
Dear Sir :—I received a letter from you a short time 
ago, asking for a history of my life. I take pleasure in 
answering your questions. 
My father died at the age of ninety-one years, six 
months and seventeen days. He altered his will after 
he was ninety years old, and his children were satisfied 
with it. My mother fell dead at the age of eighty- 
seven. I did not inherit any disease from father or 
mother. I was raised in the country. I was so young 
when I was put to work that I do not remember my 
age, though I think I was about four years old. 
(You can see that hard work has not shortened this 
man’s life.) 
I loved hard work. I should say that my tempera- 
ment is sanguine. I abandoned the use of both to- 
bacco and alcohol some forty years ago. 
My occupation throughout life has been active. 
When I was thirty years old I was taken sick; the 
doctor was called in ; he bled me and charged thirty- 
seven cents, from which time until I was nearly seventy 
years old I never required the services of a physician. 
My doctors’ bills for the past twelve years have been 
only twenty-five dollars. 
(Yours may be equally small, if you carefully follow 
the teachings of this book.) 
My sickness has been the erysipelas ; I have that 
humor in my right leg, below the knee, and that leg has APPENDIX. 
557 
swelled every day for the past ten years, except the 
winter of 1873 and ’74 (when I was in Florence, Italy), 
the swelling- left it. Florence is death on the rheumatics. 
I stopped drinking coffee twelve years ago, and then 
I drank weak tea until five years ago. Since then I 
have used the chocolate nut, because I think it is more 
healthy. 
Strong coffee is bad for one’s health. Strong coffee 
will soon kill any man, while strong tea is almost 
as bad. 
I have always been and am still careful of what I 
eat, and try not to eat too much, but the climate here 
in Massachusetts and New Hampshire is such, is so 
cold and blustery, that it is almost impossible for a man 
to help eating twice as much as he ought to for his 
health. I always go to bed at nine o’clock. 
People have, of late years, in towns, villages and 
cities, acquired the habit of sitting up until eleven 
or twelve o’clock. Men who have tried it, say that 
three hours of sleep before midnight is better than six 
hours after. I have tried this and know that it is so. 
I was not very careful of my health until I was thirty- 
two years old. I was then in the Dismal Swamp, North 
Carolina. I there learned to be careful of my health. 
(Here we have encouragement for those of my 
readers who have not but now desire to be careful 
and to attain longevity.) 
I never made a practice of being out late at night. 
Never attended dancing schools. My constitution was 
robust. I was eighty-one years old, the first of June, 
1881. I enjoy first-rate health. 
Sanborn is an English name. In my veins can be 558 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
found the blood of the English, Irish, French, German 
and Scotch. 
My grandmother on my father’s side was descended 
from the Highland-Scotch. I am all Scotch. 
My grandmother on my father’s side died at the age 
of eighty-five years. 
My grandmother on my mother’s side died aged one 
hundred years and eleven months; she left eight chil- 
dren, two hundred and twenty-seven grand-children, 
sixty-five great-grand-children, and two great-great- 
grand-children. She died in 1840. 
I tell the ministers of the gospel that they do not 
preach half enough against tobacco ; the most learned 
doctors in Boston tell us that smoking tobacco cuts 
twenty years off a man’s life. 
When I tell young men that the use of tobacco will 
cut twenty years off their lives, some will say that their 
grandfathers used tobacco and lived to be ninety ; then 
I tell them that I knew a man who lived to be very old, 
and he lived on rum; and if they dispute it, I will 
bring living witnesses to testify to the fact; he re- 
mained around the country store all day, drinking rum, 
and eating only a biscuit in the course of the day. 
Smoking tobacco takes the ambition out of a man ; 
it deadens his sensibilities ; it makes him forgetful. 
Smoking deadens the eyesight. I have known a 
number of young men to become stone blind from 
tobacco. 
Smoking makes the man idle, without his growing 
weary of idleness. 
A man must have good wholesome food if he wants 
to live to be old; good living lengthens a man’s life APPENDIX. 
559 
twenty years. Those who live slimly and dress thinly 
die young. 
Many men do not put on their flannels soon enough 
in the fall of the year, and take them off in spring, 
on the first warm day, take cold, and soon die- of con- 
sumption. Yours truly, 
(Signed) John Sanborn. 
This old gentleman has evidently been a close ob- 
server of human nature, and he gives some points that 
will prove of value. 
Tuscaloosa, Ala., May 6th, 1881. 
Dr. Joseph F. Edwards:— 
My Dear Sir:—Your circular letter received. In- 
stead of answering your questions seriatim, I will give 
you a short sketch of my life. I was born on the 7th 
of August, 1799, in Schoharie County, N. Y. From 
the time I was able to pick up a basket of chips I had 
plenty of work to do, until about sixteen years old, 
when I was sent off to school, and then, for some three 
or four years, went home every summer for a month or 
six weeks, to help on the farm during haying and har- 
vesting. At the May term of the Superior Court of the 
State of New York, in the City Hall, I was admitted as 
an Attorney of said Court, and in the September 
following went to Alabama; settled at the then little 
town of Elyton, Jefferson County, and commenced the 
practice of my profession. Remained there until 1833, 
and then moved to this place, where I have lived ever 
since. While living in Elyton had three severe attacks 
of old fashioned Southern bilious fever. The first 
attack was in the summer of 1825. These sicknesses 
left me subject to the piles and severe nervous sick 560 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
headaches, which continued to afflict me until about 
seventy years old, and then almost ceased to trouble 
me. Otherwise I have had much sickness of one sort 
or another. 
Professionally, until the rebellion, had a large Circuit 
Court practice, which, in this country, required much 
traveling on horseback. 
Until I went to Alabama, never, or rarely, drank 
coffee, mostly tea; since that time have used both 
freely. Never used tobacco, until after my first fever; 
then, when getting well, was subject to nausea after 
eating. The doctor told me to try a whiff or two 
after eating; he said he thought it would help me. It 
did, and so I got into the habit of smoking, and con- 
tinued it for some twenty years or more, and then 
quit it for some ten years, because I thought it did me 
harm, having been a good deal troubled with dys- 
pepsia after my fever sicknesses. Never getting rid 
of the desire to smoke, I fell into the habit again, and 
continued it until some six or eight years ago, when 
I left off again, as I thought it produced a sort of 
giddiness in ?ny head. Never chewed tobacco at all. 
Have been forced to be careful of both health and 
diet ever since my first sickness. When young, had 
a good constitution. 
Have always, when I could, made it a rule to go to 
bed early and get up early—to bed at nine and up at 
five. 
Cannot say my temperament has been, or is, either 
very sanguine, or the contrary; always thought if I 
wanted to do anything, I could, and generally did it; 
in other words, had confidence in myself. APPENDIX. 
561 
Now I have become old and somewhat feeble, I 
take a little toddy once or twice a day. When young 
rarely took any at all. 
Health moderately good for an old man. 
My father died in his seventy-fourth year. His life, 
I think, was shortened by over-heating himself in the 
harvest field, and cooling off too suddenly. He lived 
some years after this, but had no good health, and 
gradually grew more and more feeble, and, so far as 
I know, died of no particular disease. 
My mother was sixty-eight when she died, I suppose 
of apoplexy, superinduced, as was thought, by an injury- 
in the back of the head, from a fall. 
Both robust and hard-working people when young. 
Their children, twelve in number, inherited no predis- 
position to disease calculated to shorten life. 
The foregoing, I think, substantially answers all 
your questions. Respectfully, etc., E. W. Peck. 
« 
Belleville, III., May 21st, 1880. 
Dr. Joseph F. Edwards :— 
Dear Sir:—I will try to answer some of the ques- 
tions you ask in your circular, if you think it will be 
of any benefit to the human race. 
My father was killed by a stroke of lightning, when 
about fifty years of age; my mother died of chronic 
diarrhoea, at sixty. 
I did not inherit any disease. 
I was born and raised in the country, on a farm, and 
was always used to much physical exercise. 
My temperament is about medium. 
I was a moderate chewer of tobacco from boyhood 
36 56 2 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
up to about sixty-three years of age ; at that time I 
absolutely abandoned the use of tobacco, and gained 
twenty poiinds in weight in less than six months. I 
never used alcohol to excess, and for the last fifty 
years have been a total abstainer from everything that 
intoxicates, even avoiding soda water. 
My occupation throughout life has been a very active 
one. I have been called a hard worker by all those 
who have known me. 
I have never had but one severe spell of sickness, 
and that was bilious fever, when I was about forty years 
of age; since then I have not had occasion to take a 
dose of medicine. 
I live on plain, substantial food, and do not use 
many of the luxuries of the present day. 
I generally retire at nine o’clock, and arise from half- 
past four to five. 
My present age is eighty-one, and my health is good. 
I am an American, born in the State of Virginia. 
Respectfully yours, 
(Signed) D. Swyer. 
Fond du Lac, Wis., Sept. 26th, 1881. 
Dr. Joseph F. Edwards :— 
Dear Sir:—There is an old Latin sentiment which 
tells us “ it is never too late to mend our manners,” 
and certainly mine would require strong correction for 
the long neglect of your request, did I not have good 
and sufficient reason for the delay. The fact is, the 
late terrible winter brought me vis a vis with death, 
and so reduced me that for months I was unable to 
attend to any business, and even now, have not en- 
tirely cast off its baneful legacy. APPENDIX. 
563 
I think the work you have undertaken deserving of 
all praise, and think that any people objecting to 
furnish information upon the subject would, in thus 
impeding the progress of science, be doing an injury 
to their fellow-creatures. 
I come of a long-lived stock, noted for health, vigor, 
strength, and stature, with an unsullied historical 
record of six centuries; my great-grandfather died at the 
age of one hundred and twelve years ; my grandfather 
lived ninety-nine and a half years; my father died at the 
age of eighty ; his, to us, early death was attributed to a 
loss of the bulk of his possessions, from misplaced con- 
fidence ; and with respect to myself, I am now, in my 
eighty-fourth year, preparing to emigrate to Florida, in 
consequence of the suffering I experienced from rheu- 
matism during the late terrible winter, from the effects 
of which I am not yet fully recovered. My father 
never tasted anything stronger than tea before he was* 
twenty-one years old—always temperate, and never 
used tobacco in any shape. 
For myself, I have always felt an overflow of vitality, 
which must have vent in some way or other; and it is 
written “the Devil finds some mischief still for idle 
hands to do ; ” however, my pranks only excited a 
reproving shake of the head from some, and smiles 
from others; intemperance never became a vice with 
me, and I never had a headache or failed in my appe- 
tite at breakfast; my diet has been such as is usual in 
city and country, taking, indifferently, tea, coffee or milk, 
with some wine, but now, milk morning and evening, 
and a little meat and potatoes at dinner; my appe- 
tite is good yet, and I am free, as I always was, from 564 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
organic disease; have no rule for sleep, save when I 
am tired of reading, then I lie down and enter dream- 
land, never stirring until I awake. Mine has been an 
active life, with much physical exercise and some hard 
lines to travel, but nil desperandum was my motto, and 
I worked through all. 
I have not used tobacco since 1832, when I gave up 
smoking, my only use of it, because I saw no good in 
it, and whenever I found anything to disagree with 
me I had sufficient power over my inclinations to avoid 
it. My health is tolerably good now, and I have suffi- 
cient vigor to look after my people and do an occasional 
job myself, but am obliged now to be a little careful of 
my diet, and avoid draughts. I am an Englishman, 
am the chief of the Whinfields of Whinfield Park, in 
Westmoreland, and representative and heir to the 
misfortunes of the Widdingtons of Widdington Castle, 
in the County of Northumberland, and of Stella Hall 
in the County of Durham. All of which property was 
swept away for supporting the cause of the Stuarts. 
Excuse this display of pride; it is all the Hanover 
Hog, George I, left the family, of their vast possessions. 
Respectfully, John Widdington Whinfield. 
Greenville, Ala., May 26th, 1881. 
Dr. Joseph F. Edwards:— 
Sir:—Your kind circular of January has been re- 
ceived at last, and I take pleasure in answering your 
numerous questions. I will answer them as you have 
numbered them. 
1. I cannot answer this question with accuracy, but 
I know well that he was old when he died. APPENDIX. 
565 
2. My answer to this question is the same as the 
preceding. 
3. I did not. 
4. I was raised in the country, to hard work. 
5. I am of a sanguine temperament. 
6. I have never used tobacco, and have used but 
little spirits in thirty years, and then only as a 
medicine. I never have used spirits to excess in all 
of my life. 
7. I have lived an active life. 
8. I have not had much sickness since I have been 
grown. When I was a boy I was afflicted with chills 
and fever nearly every year until I was about fifteen 
years old. 
9. It has been thirty years since I used more than 
one cup of coffee per day. I have used both tea and 
coffee moderately. 
10. I have always been regular as to my hours of 
eating, but when I was younger I used to be a hearty 
eater, but of late years I have been very temperate in 
that respect, and have not eaten supper in twenty-five 
years. I deem this habit one of the most essential of 
all to the preservation of health. 
11. I retire at a reasonable hour, and rise early, but 
not so early as formerly. 
12. I don’t know how to answer this question. I 
have been a farmer all my life, and, of course, have 
been exposed more or less to weather. 
13. My constitution has been an average one, I 
suppose. 
14. My age is eighty-four years and four months. 
15. I do. 566 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
16. I was born about twenty-five miles from the City 
of Charleston, South Carolina, and have lived all my 
life in the Southern States. 
Remarks on Health.—I consider moderate labor on 
a farm as the most conducive to good health, although 
I have not always been moderate in that respect myself, 
as I have often worked hard and been overheated in 
work. Sleep with some door or window open at all 
times, in this climate. Never break your rest at night. 
Keep your feet warm and dry, and your head cool. 
Be temperate in all things. 
Very respectfully, yours, Joshua Barrett. 
Chicago, Nov. 23, 18S0. 
J. F. Edwards, m.d.:— 
Dear Sir:—I am in receipt of your letter of the 18th 
inst., making certain inquiries of me, in consequence of 
my having attained the age of an octogenarian. I am 
not at all certain that the answer of your inquiries will 
conduce to any great benefit to the cause you are 
desirous of advancing. I was present in the office of 
the Mayor when he received your letter, and he then 
made inquiries of me in regard to residents in Chicago 
who had reached the term of fourscore years. I forgot, 
then, to mention that of R. W. Archibald Waite, who 
now resides at No. 124 Ashland avenue, who is eighty- 
four years of age, and quite active for one of his years. 
He is a gentleman of intelligence, and may be of 
service in the work in which you are engaged. 
In regard to myself I cannot say that I have had 
any specific rules to guide me in matters of hygiene; 
indeed, I have been rather regardless than otherwise APPENDIX. 
567 
of ordinary observances—exposing myself to cold and 
heat; engaging often in physical exertions to such extent 
that I became able to perform feats that ordinary men 
thought were beyond the power of my physique. I 
very early in life became a total abstinence man as 
regards the use of tobacco and alcohol, and have, up 
to fourscore years, abstained almost wholly from the 
use of either article. I also, from the advice of a 
friendly physician,, have avoided, in a great degree, the 
use of medical drugs—unless in cases of severe 
attacks, to which, however, for the last forty years, I 
have not been subject. I have been forty-four years a 
resident of Chicago. During twenty-five years I had 
charge of an infant class, and was never absent in all 
those years, in consequence of sickness, one single 
sabbath. I afterwards had charge of a young men’s 
Bible Class for ten years, and was, with one single 
exception, present every sabbath with my class. With 
these preliminary remarks I will now answer, seriatim, 
your several inquiries:— 
1. My father’s age at time of death was about 
seventy He became almost wholly oblivious of all 
past events in his life some years before he died, and 
his death ensued in consequence of a decay of physi- 
cal powers 
2. My mother died when about sixty years of age, 
but she was of a robust frame and capable of more 
than ordinary physical effort, and her death resulted 
from acute disease, perhaps not properly attended to 
in its first stages. Her parents both lived to great age, 
her mother to nearly ninety, and her father to ninety- 
four or ninety-five. 568 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
3. I do not think I inherited any predisposition to 
any disease calculated to shorten life. 
4. My mode of life during boyhood was to engage 
in all active physical efforts, especially of an athletic 
character. I abstained wholly from the use of tobacco 
and alcoholic drinks. I was raised in the country, in 
early years in Massachusetts, and afterwards in North- 
ern New York. 
5. My temperament was, and is, quite sanguine. 
6. I have before stated that I totally abstained, or 
nearly so, from the use of either. 
7. My occupation through life has been almost 
wholly of an active character. 
8. My remarks previously made will show that for 
the last forty-four years I have enjoyed almost con- 
stant health; previous to that time I was sick, in 
consequence of rash exposure in the spring, for several 
successive days, to wet and cold, floating logs down a 
small stream. 
9. I have used tea and coffee freely, though not 
inordinately, all my life. 
10. I have not been very careful, inasmuch as my 
digestive organs have permitted me to use ordinary 
food without injury. 
11. In regard to rest and sleep, I have generally 
rested well, and slept soundly in all my younger days. 
Of late I do not rest as well or as soundly. 
12. I have not been as careful as many, for I have 
not found it necessary. 
13. My constitution was naturally very robust. 
14. My present age is over eighty, as I was born 
May 20th, 1800. APPENDIX. 
569 
15. My present health is uncommonly good, though 
I feel the infirmities incident to old age, and realize the 
entire truthfulness of that allegory in the 12th chapter 
of Ecclesiasticus. 
16. My nationality, from both paternal relations, is 
English, though extending back fully four generations. 
I do not know that I can add anything that will be of 
interest to you in your proposed work. Before I came 
to Chicago my health was not as stable as it has since 
been. I have never been under a doctor’s care, in 
Chicago, beyond one or two days at a time, in all my 
sojourn in this city. 
Should you desire any further communications on 
any subject of which I can speak intelligently I shall 
be glad to confer with you. Wishing you abundant 
success in your commendable enterprise, 
I am, very respectfully, yours, 
Samuel Hoard. 
Here we have the experience of a gentleman who 
has attained great age in health and comfort. 
We note in this instance, as in nearly every other, 
the abstinence from the use of tobacco and alcohol. 
Dover, N. H., Nov. 21, 1881. 
Dr. J. F. Edwards:— 
Dear Sir :—Your circular dated January, 1881, was 
received last week, and I proceed to answer your in- 
quiries. 
1. My father was 34 years old at his death. Cause, a 
violent putrid bilious fever. 
2. My mother was 82 years, 1 month old. Cause, 
pneumonia. 570 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
3. I know not that I inherited any disease calculated 
to shorten life. 
4. During boyhood I was in the towns of Malden 
and Andover, and from 7 to 15 was kept at school the 
year round. I did no hard work, but played out-doors 
as much as school boys usually do. 
5. My temperament, I think, is sanguine. 
6. I have never used tobacco in any form, except, 
when 15 years old, I attempted to smoke a cigar, but 
did not consume one, and threw it away in disgust, and 
have not smoked a whiff since. I abominate tobacco. 
I never, I think, drank, in all, a gallon of ardent spirits 
as a beverage in my life, and have not tasted it for 50 
years. 
7. My occupations have been in-doors. For about 
30 years after leaving school I was an apothecary, and 
for upward of 29 years succeeding I was cashier of a 
bank. In both cases I had much to do. 
8. Since early childhood I have had very little con- 
finement to the house by sickness. About 40 years 
ago I had many attacks of colic, which I attributed to 
drinking water that passed through a lead pipe; I took 
out the lead pipe and replaced it with iron and block 
tin, and am not troubled now with that pain. 
In 1863 and 1864 I had a severe spell of jaundice. 
I followed the directions of an eminent homoeopathic 
physician of Boston, and was restored to health. 
9. Before 1863 I drank coffee daily, then, by advice 
of my physician, I abandoned it. Since then I have 
drank weak Oolong tea; a small cup or a cup and a 
half at each meal. When I need more than that I 
drink water. I rarely taste a wineglass of cider; never 
beer or porter. APPENDIX. 
571 
10. I am careful of my diet; I never eat high-sea- 
soned food, and scarcely any butter; I never eat to 
satiety, but leave off when I think I have eaten enough. 
For six and a half years I did not eat a particle of 
any kind of meat, when I was recovering from my 
jaundice trouble. Then, by the same physician’s advice, 
I began to eat a little meat four or five times a week; 
I rarely eat between meals; my appetite is always good; 
all the meals in the day are alike good, and I could get up 
and relish a dinner at midnight as well as at noon; all 
kinds of plain food and vegetables are pleasant to me. 
11. I retire for the night between 8 and io o’clock, 
generally before 9; I sleep well; rising in summer 
about 6, and in winter about 7. 
12. I have never been careless of my health, but have 
been more careful as I*grew older. 
I have been quite a pedestrian, and have, I suppose, 
walked more miles for pleasure than any other man in 
our county. When I was cashier I used to walk from 2 
to 5 miles daily, and on Saturday afternoons, when the 
bank was closed, I used to walk from 8 to 12 miles. I 
left the bank December 31, 1875, and since then I have 
walked daily, when the weather was suitable, twice a 
day, from 1 to 5 miles in the day. 
When I come in warm, from exercise, I avoid a draft 
of air, and immediately put on a thick great coat, and 
keep it on, and gradually open it, until my normal 
warmth is attained. I always keep my feet dry, and 
never allow myself to feel any chill, but avoid it by 
walking briskly or by putting on extra clothing, or by 
keeping in a warm room. I have in this way not had 
a real cold for the past three years. 572 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
13. My constitution is, I suppose, robust. I am told 
that my father was rather corpulent. He had ten 
brothers and sisters whose average ages were about 
80; one sister lived to be 97. She was very corpulent, 
and weighed near 300 pounds. 
14. I was 83 years old on the 14th day of the present 
month. 
15. I still am blessed with good health, and am told 
that I have the vigor of a man at 60 years. 
16. I am a native of New Hampshire. My ancestors 
came to Massachusetts, from England, about the year 
1650. 
I lived with a dear, noble wife for nearly 50 years, 
and all my four children are alive. I have two beauti- 
ful great grandchildren, boys. 
I think the following has added years to my life, and 
given me comfort: I have, by care and prudence, been 
blest with a competency, though not rich. I avoid 
debt, as a pestilence. Truth, justice, and kindness, I 
have always endeavored to follow. The loving Father 
in Heaven has been very kind and merciful to me, and 
enables me to trust in Him, and love Him, and His most 
precious Son, Jesus Christ. Oh! the comfort of a re- 
ligious life and trust, in all life, especially old age. I 
close, in the language of the dear Quaker poet, 
Whittier:— 
“ I know not what the future hath, 
Of marvel or surprise ; 
Assured alone that life and death 
His mercy underlies.” 
Very respectfully, Asa Alford Tufts. APPENDIX. 
573 
Canandaigua, June 14th, 1881. 
Dr. J. F. Edwards :— 
I need to apologize for my long delay in replying to 
your letter. I am subject to debility in the spring, and 
have been for five and twenty years. From this I 
usually recuperate in a month, but the long and severe 
winter, added to my increasing age, reduced me lower, 
and required more time to recover. I laid aside your 
letter, intending soon to reply, but mislaid and forgot 
it. I will now give you brief answers to your 
questions:— 
1. At the time of my father’s death, he was within 
three days of 78 years old. At that time he enjoyed 
perfect health. On one Sunday morning he had made 
all preparations for preaching, and stepped into his 
sleeping room for a moment, when he fell in a fit, from 
which he never recovered, but died in two or three 
days. 
2. My mother was 82. She died from exhaustion 
of vital power. 
3. I inherited no defect of constitution from my 
parents, though I do not consider it to have been a 
very strong one. 
4. I never lived in a city until I entered Yale College, 
at the age of 16, and never resided in a city anywhere 
else. My father was for nineteen years the settled 
pastor of the church in the town of Deerfield, in the 
State of Massachusetts. Like all country clergymen 
in those days, he received a very small salary. The 
food, therefore, of the family, and especially of the 
children, was of the plainest kind. Luxuries were not 
known upon our table. Our ordinary and constant 574 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
beverage was cider—used much more than water. 
My early life was of the most active kind ; my physical 
exercise scarcely ceased at bedtime ; and from my 
earliest youth to the present time, a period of seventy- 
eight years, I have been extremely fond of the gun 
and rod, though a few years from this time must be 
struck off of the earliest stated years for the use of the 
gun. I am six feet two inches in height; my blood 
has always circulated slowly; many pulsations less 
than ordinary people ; but it continues, at my present 
age, nearly as fast as at 40. 
5. I have been, at times, subject to despondency; 
though not of late years. I should say my tem- 
perament was sanguine, as far as consistent with the 
above conditions. I am thankful to my Heavenly 
Father for continuing to me, at my great age, so 
good a degree of health and strength. I now take my 
rod several times in the course of the summer, and 
spend hours wading the stream—this, for my health, 
more than for sport. 
6. Since I was eight years old I have abhorred 
tobacco. I have never used distilled liquor as a bev- 
erage. During the last few years, being subject to 
debility early in the spring, I have, for a month or two, 
perhaps two or three times a week, taken two tea- 
spoonfuls of spirit in a glass of egg-nog, finding that the 
best restorative. For about forty years I used neither 
spirits nor fermented drinks. Since I reached 75, I 
have, sometimes, for a time, taken wine habitually, 
most usually occasionally, as I need it. 
7. I was a lawyer by profession ; while I continued 
to practice, I was somewhat sedentary, always, how- APPENDIX. 
575 
ever, riding on horseback, and walking a great deal. 
I think my life since has been more active than most 
men in my condition and position. 
8. Before I was 30 I was attacked wnn a lung com- 
plaint ; having recovered from that, I suffered two or 
three years from a succession of attacks of bilious 
colic. When near seventy, I had a desperate attack of 
bilious fever, from which it was thought I should not 
recover. Since that I have been subject only to the 
ordinary aches and pains of advancing years. Yes, I 
did suffer, about ten years ago, from erysipelas, but it 
lasted only a few weeks. 
9. Early in life I used neither tea nor coffee. For 
fifty years I used both; having had an attack of the 
piles I used cocoa as a remedy, and now use only 
coffee mornings, with cocoa evenings. 
10. From the time of my bilious colic, I have been 
very careful of my diet, both as to quality and 
quantity. 
11. From early life I have been regular in my hours 
of rest and sleep—intending, always, to be in bed at 
ten, and up by six or seven. 
12. My friends think that some of the methods used 
by me to restore and preserve my health ought to have 
killed me years ago, but I still stick to my faith. 
13. Neither very robust nor very delicate. 
14. I was 85 on the 2d day of February, 1881. 
15. To what I said before, I add, my friends think I 
enjoy excellent health for one of my age. 
16. I am a Yankee born, to the backbone, of the 
purest Puritanism. I have the names and ages of the 
most of seven generations of ancestors, numbering 576 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
nearly sixty, every one of whom, as far as I can learn, 
were members of the good old Congregational Church, 
to which I adhere with all my heart. 
Yours, respectfully, Henry Wythys Taylor. 
Rochester, Nov. 17th, 1881. 
Dr. J. F. Edwards :— 
Dear Sir:—Your letter was duly received. My 
husband, Moses King, died in Kalamazoo, Mich., the 
5th of last July. He would have been 87 on the 4th 
of this month. 
His father was an Englishman, of Huguenot descent; 
his maternal grandfather was the eldest son of the last 
Marquis of Montrose. He came to Connecticut in 
1727. He was a clergyman, and being from the North 
of Scotland, he must have been of a hardy race. 
Gideon King, who married his daughter, Ruth Gra- 
ham, was the father of my husband. They moved 
from Suffield, Conn., 1796, when my husband was 
about two years old, and settled near the mouth of 
Genessee river, four miles north of where Rochester 
now stands. There were seven men came out in com- 
pany. Fever and ague, caused by the malaria, took 
off all but one, within two years, and he left the country, 
through fear; and Mrs. King, the widow, returned in 
’98 with her two children, to Connecticut. 
I suppose she must have been a healthy woman, 
and I know she was a brave one, for in 1804 she came, 
alone, on horseback, to attend to her landed property, 
that was left here ; but my husband never outgrew the 
malaria that he imbibed here. He returned here in 
1814, a sickly man, but always attended to business. APPENDIX. 
577 
He s a merchant and landholder, and had mills in 
the country. He had to go to New York once a year, 
to breathe the sea air. 
He was always abstemious, but used tea and coffee 
through his life. 
He was the first man in this region that gave coffee 
instead of whisky to his workmen in harvest. 
He smoked moderately until 16 years before he died, 
when he renounced it entirely, and his health improved 
so much that he ceased to walk with a cane, which he 
had used for some years. 
We were intending to take a two months’ journey 
West when he died. We had been visiting in Kala- 
mazoo five days when he was taken with a hemorrhage 
of the kidney and bladder. The Doctor drew off about 
eight ounces of blood a day. 
He was very active for one of his age, both in 
mind and body. Strangers who called upon me in 
Kalamazoo would say, your husband was very active 
for a man of seventy; I suppose he is about that age. 
He was careful about his diet, and retired to rest about 
half past nine o’clock, and generally fell asleep in ten 
minutes. 
He was somewhat impulsive, but very cheerful, and 
a trusting and devoted Christian, from his eighteenth 
year. 
I write you these particulars that you can judge for 
yourself of his constitution or the means that prolonged 
his life. 
I hope your book will be the means of doing good, 
and that it will lessen the use of whisky and tobacco. 
A gentleman who was visiting here a few days since 578 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
said that his father used tobacco till he was ninety years 
old, when he was convinced that it injured him. (I 
think he was slow in finding it out) He then re- 
nounced it entirely; he lived until he was 102. 
Respectfully yours, 
Mrs. Mary B. Allen King, 
21 Madison St. 
Rochester, Nov. 18th, 1881. 
Dr. J. F. Edwards:— 
Dear Sir :—In answer to your inquiries, I make the 
statement as follows :— 
My father’s age at death, I think, was about 86 or 88. 
I have not the exact date, living far from him. Mother 
about 36. 
I think I did not inherit predisposition to any disease. 
My boyhood was spent in hard labor on the farm, in 
the country. 
Temperament medium. 
I have never used tobacco in any form, nor alcohol, 
except very sparingly, in early life. 
My occupation somewhat sedentary since the age of 
20 years, having remained in one office (county clerk) 
the last fifty-five years. . 
With the exception of two or three cases, I have 
generally enjoyed good health. 
Have always used tea and coffee. 
Have been, and am still, somewhat careful of my 
diet. 
My rules of rest and sleep have always been uniform 
and regular. 
Have always been careful of my health. APPENDIX. 
579 
My constitution was not considered robust by my 
parents. 
My age is 89 ; my health is excellent. Nationality, 
New England; parents from Connecticut. 
I think of nothing more of importance to add. 
Jeremiah Custer. 
Dr. Edwards:— 
Dear Sir:—i. Father about 56 years of age ; died, 
as I am informed, of dropsy of the heart. 
2. 71 years. Was in United States when she died 
in Germany. Disease not exactly known to me. 
3. Not that I know of. 
4. Raised in city, but was out in the country much ; 
took much exercise in my boyhood. 
5. Rather sanguine, mixture of phlegmatic. 
6. Have used very rarely alcohol, except to wash. 
When at College and University, drank a good deal 
of light beer or wine. As in most well-to-do houses, we 
had beer or wine at dinner every day. Drank little of 
anything since in the United States (1833), though I 
have wine on the table at dinner. Two or three small 
wineglasses full of claret or Rhine wine, or native wine 
(Catawba), is all I take.. At set dinners, banquets, and 
the like, I take more. Have smoked since sixteenth 
or seventeenth year; light tobacco in Germany, good 
cigars here. Made it a point to smoke very little, 
hardly any, before noon. Never smoke when studying 
or writing. 
7. Being a lawyer by education and profession, my 
life has been rather sedentary; but when I commenced 
practicing, 1835, *n Illinois, traveling a large circuit as 
lawyer and Judge, I traveled much, principally on 580 
now WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
horseback, later on, in huggies,perhaps as much as 2500 
miles a year. Went out on horseback often, when at 
home. Drove much; but for the last fifteen years 
have traveled most on railroad and feel less necessity 
for taking exercise. At College and University traveled 
thousands of miles in vacation, mostly on foot. Walked 
and hunted some in the United States. As a boy I 
was much exercised in gymnastics, learned dancing and 
fencing, small and broadsword. At College and Uni- 
versity fenced most every day. 
8. Had not very much sickness. Suppose I went 
through the customary children’s diseases. About eight 
years of age had a violent attack of pleurisy, from over- 
exertion, by cooling off rapidly. Left lung affected, and 
have never breathed as freely with that lung since, 
without, however, having had any serious trouble. Five 
or six years after my arrival in the United States 
(1833) had malarial fever, troubling me much. 1861, 
when in the army, had severe congestive chills, turning 
into a slow intermittent fever, of a typhoid character, 
compelling me to resign. Got over this, with great 
nervousness, and with occasional painful headaches, 
by a trip to Europe, and residence there of two years. 
Since my return (1864) have been generally well. 
9. Use tea and coffee, but very moderately. 
10. Not particularly. 
11. Hardly ever retire before 11 p.m. Rise between 
6 and 7. Hardly ever sleep more than six hours. 
12. Yes ; but when necessity seemed to require it, I 
have exposed myself freely. 
13. Naturally robust. Have weighed, for the last 
forty years, never less than 145 pounds, and never APPENDIX. 
581 
more than 150 pounds. Height 5 feet 5 inches. Broad 
shouldered and chested. Very small feet and hands. 
14. Seventy-two years, November 20th, 1881. 
15. Enjoy pretty good health, but cannot call it 
vigorous. 
16. Native of Germany. 
N. B.—In summer time, drink, at breakfast, hardly 
any coffee, but mineral waters, Seltzer, Emser, Apolli- 
naris, all imported. 
I am active in walking and riding. Keep as straight 
as ever in standing or walking. Ascribe this to early 
gymnastics, to dancing, and particularly to fencing, 
which was, with the small sword, my favorite exercise, 
and to walking. 
In eating, have always been very moderate. 
Have found mental labor, if not excessive, as healthy 
an exercise as any bodily exertion. 
Made it a point to sleep in cold rooms. Prefer open 
fireplaces. Abominate warming rooms with steam or 
hot air. Use steam heat only in my halls. 
When young, up to my 22d year, bathed very often, 
in summer almost daily, in running stream. Living off 
river since 1833, I have used baths at home, but not 
often, but found washing the body over an excellent 
substitute. But I do not take on dirt easily, even if I 
do not wash or bathe. G. Koemer, 
Belleville, III. 
Chillicothe, Mo., Nov. 29th, 1881. 
Dr. Edwards:— 
Dear Sir:—I expect your letter of inquiry was 
intended for my father, who is very old. But as he is 582 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
too old to write an answer I will do so for him. I will 
answer to the best of my knowledge, as my father is 
quite deaf, and don’t like to be worried with questions. 
1. About 75 years. 
2. About 80 years. 
3. Inherited a splendid constitution, without any 
predisposition to any disease whatever. 
4. Raised principally in the city, but had plenty of 
outdoor exercise. 
5. Rather sanguine. 
6. Never used tobacco, and but seldom used 
alcohol. 
7. Occupation a schoolmaster. 
8. Never was very sick; once had a slight attack 
of ague. 
9. Used both tea and coffee. 
10. Not particular as to diet. 
11. Early to bed and early to rise. 
12. Not remarkably careful. 
13. Rather robust, but still was never considered fat. 
14. 91 years next May. 
15. Pretty good health, and is likely to live several 
years. 
16. Irish. 
I have answered your questions in the order that 
you have them in your circular, and you will consider 
the answers as coming from my father. My mother’s 
age, at her death, was 87 years. 
We have no desire to keep our name a secret, and 
if I can give you any information that will be of any 
assistance to you, I will do so willingly. 
I remain, respectfully, John Fitzpatrick. APPENDIX. 
583 
My father’s name is Peter Fitzpatrick; born in the 
County Caven, Ireland; lived a long period of his life in 
Dublin, and again fora long period in Canada, and only 
came to the United States four years ago. J. F. 
Rondout, Jan. 17th, 1882. 
Dr. Edwards:— 
In response to your circular of Dec. 31st, I answer 
your questions as you request. As to keeping my 
name private, you can use your own pleasure. 
1. My father died at about 48 years, of bilious fever. 
2. My mother died same time as my father, with 
same disease, aged 43. 
3. I inherited no disease or predisposition to any; 
my parents being healthy people up to their last illness. 
4. Born in the country, and accustomed to such 
physical exercise as a boy, parentless, is usually 
accorded, when bound to a farmer. 
5. Sanguine temperament. 
6. Have never used either tobacco or alcohol. 
7. My occupation through life has been of an active 
nature. 
8. In my early life, up to about 30 years of age, had 
much fever and ague; being an engineer on construc- 
tion of Erie and Delaware and Hudson canals. 
9. Drank strong coffee up to about 45 years of age. 
Stopped entirely then. Never was a tea-drinker, but 
have used it occasionally. 
10. Have been and am still careful of my diet. 
Have eaten very little meat, and now eat almost none. 
Occasionally eat a little pork, salt or fresh, but rarely. 
11. My rest and sleep have been regular nearly all 584 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
my life. As a rule, seldom infringed on, retire and 
arise early. 
12. Yes ; I have always been as careful of my health 
as possible. 
13. My constitution was naturally delicate. 
14. I am 82 years of age, or will be on March 21st. 
15. Never enjoyed better health, or life more, than I 
have since 70 years of age. 
16. Was born in Oneida Co., New York, of Irish 
parents. 
Trusting the answers to your questions are as full 
as you require, I am, yours, etc., J. S. McEntee. 
Bellows Falls, Vt 
Dr. Edwards:— 
Dear Sir:—i. Dr. Dana Hyde was the name of my 
father; he died at the age of 66 years, in Guilford, Vt. 
2. Lucy Fitch was the name of my mother; she died 
of pneumonia, at the age of 74 years ; was sick 7 days. 
Both usually enjoyed good health. 
3. I did not inherit from my parents a predisposition 
to shorten my life. 
4. I was raised in Guilford, Vt., near a small village 
in the country. I was accustomed to much physical 
exercise. 
5. I was of sanguine temperament. 
6. I have never used tobacco in any form whatever, 
in chewing or smoking; have never been in the 
habit of using alcohol daily; was never drunk or in- 
toxicated in my life, and never wore a moustache, and 
never intend to. 
7. My habits through life have been active, as you APPENDIX. 
585 
can judge. I was married at 24. I was appointed 
Deputy Sheriff, and Constable, and Collector of Taxes, 
in Guilford, where I was born, which offices 1 held eleven 
years. I also represented the town two years, in the 
Legislature. I moved to Bellows Falls, a village in 
Rockingham Co., where I reside. I was Representative 
from there two years, and was Senator from Windham 
County two years. I was also High Sheriff three 
years, for the county. I was Selectman and Lister 
four years. I was Justice of the Peace forty years, 
and Postmaster four years. I think you will call it 
rather active. 
8. I have had but little sickness ; was 60 years old 
before I ever took any medicine. 
9. I have for many years drank a cup of coffee with 
my breakfast. I have been in the habit of drinking 
but very little tea, for several years, rarely a cup. I 
drink milk, and eat brown bread, toasted, instead, 
10. I am rather careful of my diet; I do not eat 
food that I do not like; eat very little salt meat of any 
kind. 
11. I generally retire between nine and ten. 
12. I have always been careful of my health. 
13. My constitution is robust. 
14. My present age—I was born February 16th, 
1791—I shall be 84 years old if I live until February 
16th, 1882. 
15. I enjoy very good health. 
16. My great-great-grandfather was born at Hyde 
Park, England. He had three sons that emigrated 
to this country two hundred years ago, or more, that 
settled in Newton, Mass. My great-grandfather was 586 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
born in Newton. My father was born in Templeton, 
Mass., and came to Vermont when two years old. 
I have written more than you may think is necessary, 
but you are at liberty to publish all or any part of it, 
at your pleasure. I have no objection to my name 
going before the public, for I am generally known in 
this part of the country. I should be glad to hear 
from you. 
I have a cousin born in Townshend, Vt., by the name 
of Henry Bailey; his mother was a sister to my father; 
he is 94 years old, is a farmer, and has worked, as he 
told one of his neighbors, upon the same farm 82 years. 
He was born there. 
I have another cousin by the name of Harriet Snow, 
88 years old; her mother was my father’s sister; the 
mother of these two cousins lived to be over eighty 
years old; these cousins live in adjoining towns, where 
they were born. 
There was a man by the name of John Clark that died 
in this town a few years ago, a single man, that was 87 
years old, a farmer, very saving, and he left forty thou- 
sand dollars. He told me that he had not eaten a meal 
of victuals out of his own house in 52 years. 
There are two men living in Guilford, Vt.; one is 
Aaron Wilder; he is a farmer; was born there; is 94 
years; never was ten miles from home. The other is 
Nathan Conant; he is a cooper by trade; he sawed and 
split eight cords of wood, and put into the shed last 
April. Who can do better ? 
Dear Sir:—I left home with my wife in September, 
and on my return last week I found your letter; I have APPENDIX. 
587 
very hastily answered it, which I hope will be satisfac- 
tory'. If you wish to make further inquiries, I should be 
happy to answer them. I should be most happy to re- 
ceive one of your books; when published let me hear 
from you. Col. Russell Hyde, 
Bellows Falls, Vt. 
Auburn, Maine, Dec. 12th, 1881. 
Dr. Edwards :— 
Dear Sir:—Yours dated January, 1881, has reached 
me, within a few days past, and willingly I return to 
you the following answers:— 
1. My father died at the age of 84 years. Cause 
of death, spent physical powers. 
2. My mother died at the age of 95 years. Cause, 
paralysis. 
3. I am not conscious that I inherit any disease from 
either of my parents. 
4. Was raised in a new country during my boy- 
hood, and from seven years old was trained to severe 
hard work. 
5. My temperament moderately sanguine. 
6. In my youth, it was the custom of society to use 
intoxicating drinks commonly, and I used them mode- 
rately until 1826, when, becoming satisfied that it was 
both injurious and wrong, I abandoned it, and com- 
menced efforts to induce others to abandon it also. 
7. My occupation in early life, up to 25, was very 
laborious ; after that I engaged in the gospel ministry, 
and although, as to mode of labor, it was changed, yet 
I continued to work hard. 
8. At the age of about 50 years I broke down, with 588 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
great nervous prostration, so that I could neither eat nor 
sleep in any comfortable degree. After four months’ 
treatment the doctors gave me up to die. My brethren 
conveyed me to Saratoga springs. I staid ten weeks; 
recovered and again engaged in the work of the minis- 
try. A few years later I had a severe run of fever, 
but recovered and again engaged in preaching. 
9. I have generally used tea moderately, but coffee 
seldom. (Tea not strong.) 
10. I have generally been careful of my diet; for 
more than fifty years Graham bread has been the 
main part of my food. I eat but little animal food. 
11. From early life I have practiced rising at or 
before 5 o’clock in the morning (sometimes earlier), 
and retiring at 9 to 10 in the evening. While engaged 
in the ministry, I often slept much less than this would 
represent, but still rose at the usual hour in the morning. 
12. I used to practice being out in all kinds of 
weather, and endure much fatigue, and my friends fre- 
quently said “ you will ruin your health.” 
13. In early childhood my parents said my health 
was delicate, but at seven years old it improved. 
14. My present age is 88 years, last October. 
15. The vigor of health is quite nearly worn out, but 
I am able yet to accomplish something in active life. 
16. My parents were born and married in Massa- 
chusetts, but moved to Maine before I was born, and I 
was born in Farmington, Franklin county, Maine. 
At the age of about fifteen I used frequently to spit 
up my food, and was told to use tobacco as a remedy, 
but at a later day abandoned it (many years since). 
Yours, kindly, John Chaney. APPENDIX. 
589 
New Alexandria, Pa., January 24, 1882. 
Dr. Edwards:— 
Dear Sir:—In reply to your communication, received 
some days ago, I cheerfully acquiesce, and submit it 
to your disposal in whatever way you may choose to 
use it. All who are personally acquainted with me 
know that I develop the sum and substance of your 
interrogations without fear or favor. 
1. 79 years. Cause, kidney disease. 
2. 57 years. Cause unknown to me. 
3. No disease calculated to shorten life. 
4. Sparing. Common food and homespun cover- 
ing. In the country. Farm labor. 
5. Was and still is sanguine. 
6. Abstinence all my life from tobacco, and more 
than fifty years from all intoxicating drink. 
7. Active nature. Farming and tanning leather, of 
which Philadelphians know. 
8. No sickness of any kind, except a little head- 
ache, when using unwholesome food. 
9. I use one small cup of coffee in the morning 
and evening, with a sprinkling of mush and milk; the 
same of tea at noon. 
10. I eat a pretty hearty meal of wholesome food. 
11. Retire at 9 p.m. ; rise at 4 or 5 a.m. 
12. In a general way I am. 
13. Medium in height and weight. 
14. I am in my 74th year. 
15. My general health is good. 
16 My father and mother each born and raised in 
Pennsylvania; my great-grandparents were Scotch and 
Irish. 590 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
There are many long-lived persons in my neighbor- 
hood, and nearly all have been of active life. I think 
the rising generation is greatly weakened, from the 
effects of late retiring and late rising and indulging in 
unwholesome food. My father’s kindred were a long- 
lived people, and were moderate eaters, and lived 
active lives. Respectfully yours, 
James M. Shields. 
New Alexandria, Westmoreland Co.t Pa. 
Kingston, N. Y., Jan. 9th, 1882. 
Dr. Edwards:— 
Dear Sir:—In reply to your queries, I will try to be 
as brief as possible. My parents were Christians, and 
in early life their children were taught to “ Fear God 
and keep his commandments;” and when I began to 
think upon the subject, I found St. Paul had found out 
the problem; 1 Tim. iv, 8, “ But godliness is profitable 
unto all things, having promise of the life that now is, 
and of that which is to come.” Also, I found in the 
Decalogue it was taught Israel how to attain long life; 
Ex. xx, 12, “ Honor thy father and thy mother, that thy 
days may be long upon the land which the Lord thy 
God giveth thee.” Col. iii, 20, “ Children obey your 
parents in all things; for this is well pleasing unto the 
Lord.” I have found the path of obedience is the path 
of safety and happiness. I loved my parents, and 
felt I could not do too much for them who had done 
so much for me. Not that I deserved or merited 
long life by anything I could do, but because the 
promise of God is given to the obedient in all ages, I 
live to the present hour, a witness of the faithfulness of APPENDIX. 
591 
a covenant-keeping God, who I have been trying to 
love and serve over fifty-four years, as a disciple of my 
Lord and Saviour, yet very imperfectly. 
1. My fathers age at time of death was 86 years, 3 
months and 12 days. Suffered much from sedentary 
business, causing dyspepsia, bleeding piles, and a com- 
plication of diseases. Occupation, clock and watch 
maker, in this city. 
2. Mother’s age, 82 years, 8 months and 25 days. 
Disease, diabetes. 
3. No. Exercise and temperate in all things. 
4. Work in garden, chopping firewood, and all 
kinds of outdoor work ; helping mother in care of 
brothers and sisters, of whom I had seven living and 
three dead. Lived in the village of Kingston, now 
City of Kingston. 
5. Sanguine. 
6. Have used tobacco some; when young smoking 
segars, and afterwards chewing very moderately, until 
it gave me dyspepsia; I quit its use, and after 60 years 
old had cold in my face; took the pipe to cure it, and 
used it about twelve years,when I found it was sapping 
my system by slow poison; I stopped, and have not 
used it since. Alcohol used only as medicine ; am a 
temperance man in all things. 
7. My occupation was plane maker for about 60 
years, and consequently active. 
8. Not much. 
9. Yes ; from my youth up not strong. 
10. Yes; when I found any diet did not agree with 
me I let it alone. 
11. Retire about 10, and rise at daylight or sunrise. 592 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
12. Yes. 
13. Blessed with a strong constitution. 
14. Born March 6th, 1800, at Rhinebeck, N. Y. 
‘Since 1805 lived here. 
15. Yes; and work at repairing clocks, and make 
rules for flagging-stone dealers. 
16. American. 
Hoping what I have written may be some help to 
you, and enable you to advise others “ How we ought 
to live” and please God in all our ways, 
I remain, yours, respectfully, James J. Styles. 
Bridgeport, Ct., December 5 th, 1881. 
Dr. J. F. Edwards :— 
Dear Sir:—Annexed please find answers to your 
questions. 
1. My father died at the age of 46, of dysentery. 
2. My mother died at the age of 48, of cancer of the 
womb. 
3. I have not inherited any disease from my parents. 
4. Lived in Charleston, South Carolina, up to the 
age of ten years, then moved, with my parents, to Ma- 
tanzas, Isle, of Cuba, and remained there (excepting a 
short time in New Orleans and Mexico) thirty-five 
years, as a planter, cultivating sugar and coffee; accus- 
tomed to physical exercise. 
5. Sanguine. 
6. Smoked and chewed tobacco fifty years ; gave up 
the habit of chewing for the last ten years; occasionally 
smoke a segar. 
7. My occupation during my residence in Cuba, New 
Orleans, and Mexico, was very active; for twenty-seven APPENDIX. 
593 
years I have lived in Connecticut, as a man of 
leisure. 
8. With the exception of occasionally a touch of 
dyspepsia, enjoy good health. 
9. Have always used very strong coffee three times 
a day; seldom drink water, and never when eating; 
never drink tea. 
10. As regards my diet, like all Cubans. I never use 
pastry; am a moderate eater. 
11. The early part of my life, or when in Cuba, re- 
tired very late and arose very early. Since I have 
resided in Connecticut, it has been vice versa. 
12. Have studied my health. 
13. Always robust, from childhood to the present 
time. 
14. Seventy-five years old. 
15. Answered in Question 13. 
16. Charleston South Carolina. 
You are at liberty to use my name in your book. 
Yours respectfully, 
Andrew Burke. 
Skowhegan, Maine, December 16, 1881... 
Dr. Edwards:— 
Dear Sir:—I received a note from you requesting 
me to answer you sixteen questions. 
1. Age of my father at his death was 79. Cause, 
dropsy ; in the chest. 
2. Mother 76. Cause not known; both died very 
suddenly. 
Both very healthy; had no disease whatever; father 
twenty-nine, mother thirty-one when I was born. 594 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
3. Saw no cause for any disease in me. 
4. Born in the country; brought up on a farm; be- 
gan to work at the age of nine, in the field with men, 
hoeing, or any other work done on a farm ; have lived 
and worked on a farm all my life. 
I was 83 last July; worked till seventy-six every day; 
since then have not done so much hard work. 
5. My temperament is even, but not hard. 
6. In regard to tobacco and alcohol: tobacco I never 
used; I think it one of the filthiest things a man can 
be guilty of using, for it is a deadly poison, shortening 
his own life and that of his children; when I came to 
the years of discretion, I discarded alcohol altogether. 
7. My life has been of an active nature ; no man in 
the State of Maine has done more days’ work than I 
have at my age. 
8. Never had much sickness of any kind, so as to 
lay by work more than a day or so at a time ; never 
had any kind of fever till most eighty; then the lung 
fever. 
9,10. Have used but little tea or coffee; don’t use tea 
now and have always eaten anything other folks eat, 
without regard to diet. 
11. Rules for rest and sleep: early to bed and early 
rising, has been my principal habit. 
12, 13. Have not been so careful of my health as I 
ought to have been, for I had a very robust and healthy 
constitution. 
15. I enjoy good health, but I have failed in strength, 
so I can’t do much work now. 
16. My nationality is American. I suppose my fore- 
fathers were of Scotch descent. APPENDIX. 
595 
I have two brothers; one eighty-four last February; 
works on his farm now, more or less everyday; retains 
his faculties remarkably; went into his wood lot last 
winter and helped to get his wood. 
My other brother is seventy-eight this month; 
can do about as much work as a great many young 
men; was one of the ruggedest boys ever raised in 
Maine. 
Both brothers teetotalers ; despise the use of tobacco 
or alcohol. 
I have one sister, eighty-one; a despiser of tobacco 
and all stimulants. 
We all are in good health, and think temperance has 
had much to do with our health. 
I don’t know that I have answered your questions to 
your satisfaction; but have done the best I could. 
Yours, with respect, 
James Steward. 
Auburn, Maine, Dec. 21st, 1881. 
Dr. Edwards :— • 
Dear Sir :—I will answer your questions :— 
1. Aged 76, 9 months. 
2. Aged 73 ; health delicate ; no disease. 
3. No disease. 
4. Went to school until seventeen ; went to sea 
until twenty-five; raised in the country ; always active. 
5. Sanguine enough for common use. 
6. Every one used liquor when I was a boy, and I 
followed the multitude, until twenty-nine years old, and 
used tobacco until forty-one. 
7. Active. 596 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
8. Had a fever when twenty-two, and one when 
forty-one years old. 
9. Have used them, and do now. 
10. Yes; very. 
11. Work until tired, then rest. 
12. I have. 
13. Robust. 
14. 84 years. 
15. I do. 
16. American. 
I would advise all that wish for good health and 
longlife to let all that can intoxicate, and tobacco, alone. 
Keep cool. Don’t fret about things they cannot alter. 
Take exercise enough to keep the body in good order, 
and do justly, love mercy, and walk humbly before 
God. Yours, David R. Loring. 
Rockland, Maine, Dec. 23, 1881. 
Dr. Edwards:— 
Dear Sir:—Your letter inquiring into my manner 
of life was duly received, and I give you the following 
answers:— 
1. My father died at the age of 61, from hemor- 
rhage of the lungs. 
2. My mother died at the age of 84, of lung fever. 
3. I did not inherit from either parent any predis- 
position to disease. 
4. I was raised in the small town of Manchester- 
by-the-Sea, Mass. At the age of thirteen I went to 
work on a farm, and have supported myself since that 
time. Have always engaged in manual labor, going 
to sea at the age of sixteen, and following that occu- APPENDIX. 
597 
pation for thirty years. From forty-six years of age, 
till eighty-one, have worked at sailmaking. 
5. My temperament was and is sanguine. 
6. I used tobacco from fifteen to seventy; either 
chewing or smoking, and my testimony is, it is of no 
benefit, but an injury. It may not have injured me, 
but it is folly for a man to be a slave to the habit, as I 
was, and a waste of a deal of money. No good ever 
came of it. I used alcohol till I was forty years of age, 
since which time no intoxicating liquor has passed my 
lips. This, too, is a curse to mankind. My advice to 
all, young or old, is, leave rum and tobacco alone ; 
have nothing to do with either. 
8. I have never had any sickness, paying but $25 
for doctor’s bill; that for having a tooth extracted. 
9. I have always used both tea and coffee, and still 
use both. 
10. Have never paid particular attention to my diet, 
always having a good appetite for wholesome food. 
11. In early years was not accustomed to retire 
early, often working till midnight, but of late years 
have never been up later than nine o’clock, p. m., and 
generally eight o’clock has found me in bed. 
12. 13. I have generally been careful of my health. 
Was naturally of a robust constitution. 
14. Shall be 83 years old the 14th day of January 
next. 
15. I still enjoy good health, with the exception of 
rheumatism. 
16. My parents were both American born. 
John G. Edwards. 598 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
Tuscaloosa, Alabama, July ist, 1881. 
Dr. Edwards:— 
Sir:—By a request from you, I will endeavor to 
answer the questions that you have asked me through 
your letter, which I received a few days ago. As for 
my name, you can publish it if you choose. 
1. Age of father, at death, 71. Cause, enlarge- 
ment of liver. 
2. Age of mother, at death, 82. Infirmity or old 
age. 
3. I did not. 
4. I was raised on the farm, and labored as a hand. 
I was raised in country. Accustomed to much exercise. 
5. I am tolerably sanguine. 
6. I used tobacco about forty years of my life, and 
have quit it for about forty years. As for alcohol, I 
used it in the fore part of my life, but not in the latter 
part; never used it to excess. 
7. It has been active. 
8. Not much. 
9. I use coffee in a moderate way; about one cup 
at a meal. 
10. I have been, especially in my latter days. 
11. I have been early to bed and early to rise. 
12. I have, though exposed some. 
13. It was robust. 
14. 96 years and 3 months. 
15. I do, in a great measure. 
16. My father and mother were of the American race 
of people. Very respectfully, 
Elijah Clements. APPENDIX. 
599 
Dr. Edwards:— 
Dear Sir:—i. My father’s age, at the time of his 
death, was 87 years, 7 months, 27 days. He died of 
dropsy of the heart. 
2. My mother died at the age of 66 years, 7 months, 
12 days. Not able to name the disease that terminated 
in death. 
3. I was raised on a farm. My father and mother 
were both healthy ; my father especially. I inherit no 
disease from them. 
4. My mode of life, during boyhood, was an active 
life, and raised in the country; and took exercise, as 
school boys generally do. 
5. My temperament in early life and manhood was 
sanguine, even to 60 or 70, and my health pretty firm 
now, at the age of 82 years, 10 months. 
6. I never used tobacco; never was drunk in my 
life. In early manhood I used to distill and make 
whisky, but have not taken a dram for near fifty 
years. 
7. From twenty-five to thirty-five I was a teacher 
of school. Since then I have been a surveyor, which 
is active and laborious. 
8. I have never had much sickness, and what I have 
had was the result of colds; I had a little brush at 
chills and fever when this country was new. 
9. Yes ; always have. 
10. In my early life, indulged, until I brought on 
indigestion, then resolved to be more careful, and my 
digestive powers are now good. 
11. Have been regular in retiring, and early rising ; 
retiring from ten to eleven. 600 
IIOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
12. I have been generally as careful as circumstances 
would permit. 
13. I can’t say my constitution was robust, but it was 
good. 
14. 1881, 11, 7 — 1799, 1, 5 =82 years, 10 months, 
2 days. 
15. My health is not vigorous, but good for my age. 
16. I was born and raised in Kentucky. Kemper is 
a German name, but mixed with English, etc. 
Simon Kemper. 
Joseph F. Edwards, m.d. :— 
Dear Sir:—The enclosed circular was forwarded to 
me here, from my former residence, at Waukegan, 111. 
In reply, I will say that my father, John Fay, died in 
January last, at the ripe age of 88 years. His mind 
was active, his memory retentive, and his mental facul- 
ties wonderfully preserved, to within a week of his 
death. 
He was sick of the measles in the army, in 1814, and 
he thought he never fully recovered. 
Though never very robust after his army life, still he 
never had any serious sickness. 
I am pleased to state that he was always entirely 
abstemious, so far as tobacco and alcohol are concerned. 
He was one of the best preserved old men I ever 
saw, both mentally and physically. 
He had no sickness when he died. It was just a 
gradual fading of strength, day by day, till he passed 
to the “Great Beyond.” 
Pardon me if I have been too verbose in answering 
your questions. Very truly, yours, 
W. H. Fay, 
Locust st., St. Louis, Mo. APPENDIX. 
601 
Thomaston, Maine, Nov. 5th, t88i. 
Dr. Edwards:— 
Dear Sir:—Your letter of inquiry came safe to 
hand. I will answer you. I will begin one generation 
before my father:— 
My grandfather lived to be 97 years old. His habits 
were always regular, living on coarse food. Never 
drank alcohol; always worked on a farm. 
My father lived to be 80 years old; cause of his 
death, decay of nature. 
My mother lived to be 90 years old; cause of her 
death was paralysis. 
They were both hard working people. Drank no 
alcohol, lived on the produce of the farm, and drank 
cold water. 
I inherited no disease to shorten my days. 
My mode of life during boyhood was active. Had 
to run at every one’s call; I was what you might term 
a shepherd boy; born in the country, always used to 
hard labor, and lived on coarse food. 
Drank neither alcohol or other kind of spirits, but 
occasionally tea and coffee ; I have used tobacco to 
my shame, but I saw that it began to hurt me, and I 
left it off. 
My temperament is not what one would call san- 
guine, but rather yielding; but when I find anything is 
right I am firm. 
My occupation has been active, hard labor. 
My habits have always been regular and steady; 
always worked in the daytime and slept at night. 
Never spent an evening in a rum-shop or a gambling- 
house in my life. Always enjoyed good health. 602 
how we ought to live. 
My diet is common food; never eat anything to 
injure my health. 
My constitution is rather delicate, but by a strict 
temperance life I have arrived at this great age, which 
is between 89 and 90 years. I do enjoy good health 
for one of my age, and my mental faculties are as 
good as ever they were. My hearing is defective ; my 
eyesight is good. 
I was born in New England, and, am of course, an 
American. 
My long experience in life has taught me that the 
only way to preserve health and length of days is by 
a strictly temperate life. Very few men that use 
ardent spirits ever arrive at a very great age; they 
hardly ever pass the bounds of forty or fifty years. 
There is hardly one left that started life with me ; and 
those who have gone, more than one-half of them, lie 
in the drunkard’s grave. 
If these crude hints will be of any service to you in 
preparing your rules of life, it will amply repay me for 
all the trouble. Respectfully, yours, Abner Rice. 
St. Joseph, Mo., Dec. 6th, 1881. 
Dear Dr. Edwards— 
With pleasure I will answer your inquiries:— 
My father, at the time of death, was fifty-six years 
old. Cause of death, internal gathering. 
He used tobacco moderately. 
My mother, who was always healthy throughout life, 
died at about eighty years of age. 
My health has been good to the present time. 
I was raised on a farm, after which I learned the APPENDIX. 
603 
trade of a carpenter, and have been throughout life a 
carpenter and builder. 
My temperament is bilious. 
I have never used tobacco or alcohol. 
I have used tea and coffee in moderation. 
I use but little meat, and am careful of my diet. 
I have always been particular about my hours for 
sleep. 
I have always tried to be careful of my health, which 
is still good. 
I am 84 years old. 
I have been in the front rank of all reform move- 
ments ; woman’s rights since 1834, anti-slavery, temper- 
ance and land reform. Yours, truly, 
Jacob Sprinkle. 
Springfield, Mass., Nov. 25th, 1881. 
Dr. Edwards :— 
Dear Sir:—In reply to the questions contained in 
your letter, I will answer as follows :— 
My father was sixty, at time of death. Cause, con- 
sumption. 
My mother was seventy. Cause, dyspepsia. 
I inherited no disease from my parents. 
Mode of life during boyhood was such as any boy 
living on a farm would be. 
My temperament is purely sanguine. 
When eight years of age I was advised by a doctor 
to use tobacco, to prevent druling, and continued its 
use till I was upward of fifty; since then have never 
used it. Have used alcoholic drinks, and do still. 
My occupation through life has been that of a black- 604 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
smith (and for over thirty years worked in the U. S. 
Armory), and have always led a very active life. 
Have had some sickness, fevers mostly ; one severe 
fall, breaking ribs and injuring spine, six years ago ; of 
late years have been troubled with spasmodic asthma. 
Have never habituated myself to the use of tea or 
coffee ; use occasionally coffee, but not tea. 
Have never been careful of my diet. Have lived on 
the richest of food since I was twenty-one; previous to 
that I lived on the plainest, and scarcely enough at that. 
Have never had any rule to govern my rest, but 
generally “ early to bed and early to rise,” until within 
the past few years have usually risen at three and four 
o’clock. 
Have never taken any care of my health. 
Constitution naturally robust. 
Present age seventy-eight. 
Do not enjoy vigorous health now. 
My nationality is American. 
Have no desire to have my name kept private. If 
you wish to make use of it, you are at liberty to do so. 
Yours, etc., Chester Bradley, 
81 Allen si., Springfield, Mass. 
Rooms of State Historical Society of Wisconsin, 
Madison, Nov. 19th, 1881. 
Joseph F. Edwards, m.d.:— 
Dear Friend:—The printed letter is before me, and 
I will answer the questions as correctly as possible. 
My father was 81 years and some months old at his 
death. Mother was 66 and some months. It was 
thought that he ate too freely of hard-boiled eggs on a APPENDIX. 
605 
certain occasion, and he never enjoyed as good health 
after it, but lived, perhaps, a year or more after it hap- 
pened ; he had, prior to that, as a general thing, been 
robust and healthy. 
Mother was always of a delicate constitution, and 
for the most part, very spleeny much of her life. 
I can’t think that there has been anything in the 
shape of disease transmitted or imbibed, more than 
was natural, from either of my parents. 
As respects me, I was brought up on a farm, and as 
soon as old enough, followed the plow. 
I was raised in the country, and learned to work 
early, and enjoyed good health until, in the fall of 1814, 
I was drafted and ordered to New York City, and 
while in camp was stricken down with a fever, and was 
reduced very low; but finally, after several weeks, was 
able to reach home. My hair all peeled off, and I got 
my strength by degrees, and have been able, for the 
most part, to attend to some kind of business, store- 
keeping, and writing in the Register’s Office, and 
attending the Cabinet Department, where I am still, as 
can be seen by the card. At the same time, the fever 
left me more or less debilitated, with the palpitation of 
the heart; this, the former school of doctors would, in 
order to relieve, take freely of our blood; this, they 
did for me, until I saw clearly it was all wrong, and put 
a veto on it. This was forty or fifty years ago, and the 
palpitation got along better than with bleeding; yet it 
never left me altogether; but with being prudent in diet 
and habits can attend daily to my business, and walk 
my two miles per day, on week days, in the open air. 
As respects habits, smoking a pipe was tolerated in 606 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
moderation for perhaps twenty years of my life; but 
liquor and wines, other than pleasant cider, and what 
is manufactured from the orchard, was very rarely 
touched by me. The pipe and cigars have been dis- 
pensed with for more than thirty years, also the cider 
and wines. 
Coffee and tea has been my table drink in lieu of the 
latter; my diet is generally plain and indulged in in 
moderation, and at all times more attention is paid to 
the quantity than the quality. 
It is thought that my outdoor walks, which amount 
to over six hundred miles per year, have much to do 
with my present health. In early life my business kept 
me out in the open air much of the time, teaming, taking 
produce to Albany, in an open wagon, a distance of 
twenty miles, and as a general thing would go this dis- 
tance over each week in a year; this it will be easy to 
see, amounts to two thousand miles per year, and in 
ten years it is even twenty thousand miles; some allow- 
ance may be made for detention, and call it fifteen 
thousand; this, even, would be a long road to travel by 
land. No doubt the outdoor life had something to 
do with keeping me healthy, and for the most part 
caused me to have a much better relish for food and 
sleep. 
At present, being over 86*4 years, and for several 
years past, my time to retire is 9, and often or 
and rest and sleep tolerably well, not of course, as is 
common with the young ; that cannot be expected, but 
rest and sleep extremely well, considering the age. 
This I am writing without glasses, and have but one 
good eye, the other pupil is partly covered. My nerves APPENDIX. 
607 
do not appear to be affected in the least, although my 
handwriting is rather poor. 
Have not been confined to the bed but a very few 
weeks, with fevers, etc. I came to this country forty 
years ago, when it was entirely new, and with all the 
rest, had the ague and fever for several weeks, but 
nothing of the kind since. 
This morning, the 24th, notwithstanding the mer- 
cury is down to zero about, I have walked my half 
mile to the Capitol, and enjoyed the walk somewhat, 
but the warm rooms rather more. 
I have through life been rather careful of my health, 
especially since the war of 1812 ; my mother being so 
feeble and delicate as a general thing, perhaps had 
something to do with it; she was extremely careful, 
and would bundle us up to the brim when we went 
out into the cold. 
Our ancestors came from England and settled in 
York State. 
Our family may be considered rather long-lived. The 
oldest, a girl, was eighty-eight and a half years old 
when she died; she was a farmer’s wife, and as long 
ago as that, my sisters that were big enough would 
help in the harvest, in raking grain and hay, the same 
as boys. This was back in the fore part of 1800 and 
up to 1810; it was no harm then for a youngster to 
work and earn their living, even if it was a female; 
it was to their advantage, and was felt through life, 
and also, as would appear, their offspring were more 
hardy, in consequence. Two other sisters reached 
eighty and over; one next to me died when eighty- 
eight and a little over; another sister reached eighty- 608 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
three and over; two reached seventy-seven and 
seventy-nine; but one of us died under fifty. 
I am not particular in regard to secrecy; my name 
is well published, as these cards are scattered in all 
directions. 
Very respectfully, yours, 
Isaac Lyon. 
Jersey Shore, Pa., Dec. 28th, 1881. 
Dr. Edwards:— 
Dear Sir:—I received your letter some time ago, 
but having some pressing work on hand, I deferred to 
answer it. 
I am 81 years of age ; have lived a plain, industrious 
farmer’s life, on the same farm on which I was born. 
I never indulged any other notion than being a farmer, 
though in my younger days, I engaged some in lumber- 
ing, which brought me in debt. I desired to live to 
pay it, and paid all in twelve or fifteen years. I have 
always had enough to make me comfortable, but never 
enough to allow prodigality. 
My constitution was “naturally robust;” a dozen or 
fifteen attacks of bilious fever and ague, no doubt, has 
weakened it some; the first was in 1804, when the 
fever proved fatal in a number of cases. I raised a 
family of six boys, to manhood ; no girls. My father’s 
family was five boys and five girls; all attained a 
reasonable age. 
I have three brothers and two sisters living. 
My father was 81 ; died with heart disease. My 
mother was 94 ; her father 92 ; her mother 86. This 
neighborhood was settled in 1772 and 1773, by Scotch- APPENDIX. 
609 
Irish Presbyterians, while yet the Indians were here. 
In five or six years they were driven away by the 
Indians, and returned in five years. Most of the old 
men and women lived to a good old age. Of course, 
in a new country they lived much plainer than we do 
now. 
My grandfather Jackson was quite a tea drinker, 
for those times, and smoked. It was his habit to get 
up in the middle of the night, put the chunks together 
in the fireplace (no stoves) and take a smoke. I have 
heard it said that the fire did not go out in his house 
for forty years. Matches were scarce in those 
days, but they could strike a fire with their flint-lock 
guns. 
The oldest man buried in our neighborhood was an 
Irishman, of the name of Murphy, a weaver. It is said 
he was 120 years old, and was never sick. 
I have nothing to claim for my own mode of life as 
worthy of explanation, more than dozens of others. I 
observed no rigid rules, except avoiding tobacco and 
whisky, and that cost me no trouble, for I never had a 
taste for either. 
I remember my oldest brother telling me that I would 
work myself out before I would be an old man. I look 
upon work as a help to health and vigor—true, it can 
be overdone. 
I have made it a rule to have family worship, morn- 
ing and evening, with singing, in harvest and at all 
times, and have no trouble in getting my family together.. 
I am not fastidious about my name. 
This is a beautiful, mild, sunshiny day. 
Respectfully, John Hamilton. 610 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
Fire Association of Philadelphia 
Agency, at Pontiac, May 5, 1881. 
Dr. J. F. Edwards :— 
Dear Sir :—Your object is a good one, and I answer 
at once. 
1. Age of father, 40; died suddenly, of kidney 
disease; had been in poor health several years. 
2. Age of mother, 90; always enjoyed good health; 
died with erysipelas. 
3. Can’t say; was subject to asthma from my 
youth, and continue to have it occasionally. 
4. Was raised in the country, at hard labor. Lost 
my father at nine years old; had rather a hard time. 
5. Sanguine; had ague and fever, dyspepsia and 
inflammatory rheumatism, for several years. 
6. Used tobacco for several years; never used 
much alcohol; quit using tobacco sixteen years ago; 
use a little stimulus, cider, beer, or home-made wine, 
every day, now. 
7. Worked hard till 1850; since that time have 
been in the insurance business, and have done no 
labor. 
8. Never been healthy. 
9. Have and still use tea and coffee. 
10. I have been and am still careful of my diet. 
11. Sleep a little in the day and always at night. 
12. Always, or I should have died long ago. 
13. Always delicate. Bad colds always made me 
sick. 
14. Was born May 31st, 1794; eighty-seven in a 
few days. 
15. I am quite feeble at present, but not confined ; APPENDIX. 
611 
can see and hear quite well; faculties are quite good, 
for my age. 
16. Born and raised in New York State; have 
resided in Michigan fifty-three years. 
My best wishes for success in your enterprise. 
Yours, truly, A. H. Green. 
Schenectady, November 17th, 1881. 
Dear Sir:—Agreeably to your request, I answer your 
petition, for the good of all concerned, which I think is 
general. 
My father died in July, 1843, aged 84 years. He 
was generally in good health; subject to diarrhoea 
periodically; his desire was drink; very thirsty; he was 
denied, and helped himself to buttermilk, which caused 
his death. 
His father died in 1848, aged 104 years. He could 
not endure the use of tobacco ; it made him sick. 
My mother died in 1828, aged 58 years; not very 
robust; a hard worker; contracted a cough; ended 
in consumption ; her parents lived to good old age. 
In regard to myself, I think I inherited no disease 
from either father or mother; I remember their ways 
and dispositions; I was brought up to work, from my 
youth, on a farm; used tobacco between sixty and 
seventy years; now I cannot use so much; it causes 
dizziness in my head. 
Since my youth my habits have been uniform; early 
to bed, early to rise ; always delighted in work; now I 
do half a day’s work generally, every day. 
I have not been very careful of my diet; generally 
fond of nicknacks; now my appetite fails me. 612 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
I have not had much sickness; only ordinary com- 
plaints of children ; but have been subject to rheum- 
atic complaints for some years, of which I know the 
cause. 
My nationality is Holland Dutch. 
I was born in 1794, November 14th ; consequently I 
was eighty-seven years old last Monday. 
I am blessed with neither poverty nor the riches of 
this world; nor have any goodness of my own to 
claim. 
Never used much intoxicating drink, only occasion- 
ally cider; in my youth I was wild; did not know 
any better; now, I think I know that my Redeemer 
liveth. 
Wishing you success in your undertaking, 
Yours, with respect, John G. Van Voart. 
Sussex County, Delaware, July 6th, 1881. 
Dr. Edwards:— 
Dear Sir:-—I will strive to give you the information 
you request, as far as it is in my power. 
In the first place, my father was a healthy man, until 
the last two years of his life, when he contracted a cold, 
which settled on his lungs, and terminated in death; 
age 81 years. 
My mother was a healthy woman ; she took some- 
thing like bilious fever, and died, but to tell you her 
age I cannot, for her brother had the family record, 
and he moved out West; but I don’t think she was 
over 65 at the time of death. 
Neither of their children inherited any disease from 
father or mother. APPENDIX. 
613 
My mode of life during boyhood was farming, in the 
country, and I was accustomed to a great deal of 
exercise. 
My temper has always been a quick one ; but it 
don’t last long. 
Tobacco I never used in my life. As for spirits, I 
was always used to it, from my earliest recollection, but 
I am temperate in its use. My father generally made 
brandy on his farm; when there was not much fruit, 
he generally bought it. In old times every person 
used it. 
My occupation through life has been very active, and 
I have done a great deal of hard work. Farmers don’t 
have much spare time. 
I have been a healthy man. I have been sick several 
times. The bilious fever is very common in our part 
of the country. I enjoy my health now as well as I did 
thirty years ago. 
I use a great deal of coffee and tea. I take my coffee 
cold, winter and summer. 
I have not been particular about my diet; every- 
thing agrees with me. 
I generally rest two or three times, these long days. 
I take my rest at night, but have no set hour for bed. 
I have always tried to take care of my health, as far 
as I could. My constitution was always robust, and I 
still enjoy vigorous health. 
If I live to see the last of this month, I shall be 80. 
In regard to my nation, we are all Americans. I 
have heard my mother say that her forefathers were of 
Irish descent. 
I don’t care who knows my mode of life; from my 614 
IIOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
youth up to the present time I have always tried to do 
the best I could for myself, as well as my fellow 
creatures. Respectfully, yours, David Shiles. 
Boston, Mass., May 25th, 1881. 
Dr. Edwards:— 
Dear Sir:—I answer your questions as follows:— 
1. Eighty-seven years; old age hastened by an 
accident. 
2. Seventy-seven years. Supposed lung complaint. 
3. No. If so, my habits of life. 
4. Raised in Boston, Mass. Exercise; as the 
average of boys. 
5. Sanguine and lively. 
6. None. Smoked a few years, three or four, be- 
tween thirty-five and forty years of age, then gave it 
up and never renewed it. Have a constitutional 
aversion to them. 
7. Both 
8. No. 
9. Yes. 
10. A small eater, with good appetite. 
11. Go to bed between ten and eleven o’clock, rise 
at half-past six. 
12. Yes. 
13. Strong and cheerful. 
14. Eighty years and four months. Born Nov. 
24th, 1800. 
15. Yes. 
16. American, from English stock of 1632. 
Truly, yours, H. K. Oliver. 
P. S.—1. My original ancestor was an English APPENDIX. 
615 
immigrant, of 1632, to Boston, Mass., and died in 
Boston in 1657, at ninety years of age. He was a 
surgeon. In my line from him, were— 
2. His son, Peter O., merchant, died in 1670, at 52 
years of age. 
3. His son, Nathaniel O., merchant, died in 1704, at 
52 years of age. 
4. His son, Nathaniel O., merchant and teacher, 
died in 1768, at 86 years of age. 
5. His son, Nathaniel O., lawyer, died in 1769, at 
56 years of age. 
6. His son, Daniel O., clergyman, died in 1840, at 
87 years of age. 
7. His son, Henry Kemble O. (myself), born 1800, 
now living, in my 81st year, with unbroken health and 
vigor. 
These seven generations give an average of seventy* 
two years. 
The average number of children in each of the 
seven generations was seven. Largest number, nine; 
smallest, five. 
No instance of the use of ardent spirits among 
them, in any record. My father (Rev. Daniel Oliver), 
often told me that the aggregate of all sorts of alcoholic 
drinks, including wines, used by him, including medi- 
cinal, would not be a gallon in a life of eighty-seven years. 
He was of a very even and gentle disposition, mirthful 
and social. Occasionally used a cigar. I inherit his 
general characteristics. My mother was a woman of 
intellectual vigor, gentle temper and great energy. 
Died at seventy-seven. 
My occupations have been— 616 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
Teacher twenty-five years—graduated at Harvard 
College in 1818, at seventeen years and eight months 
old; Adjutant-General of Massachusetts four years ; 
cotton manufacturer ten years; public office, other than 
Adjutant-General, sixteen years; have retired from 
work. CONCLUSION. 
617 
CONCLUSION. 
My pleasant duty is done. 
To look back into the past, it seems to me a long time 
since I first began the preparation of this volume; and 
it has been. 
It seemed to me, as I looked about among my fellow 
men, that the public really knew little about themselves. 
As I went among my patients, endeavoring to cure 
disease, I was repeatedly struck with the idea that the 
majority of physical ills were directly traceable to 
ignorance or imprudence on the part of the sufferer. 
I commenced to think that if poor human nature only 
knew how to live, very many of the diseases to which it 
is so liable could be avoided. This fact was daily 
forced upon my notice, when I was asked by my 
patients, “Doctor, what is the cause of my illness,” and 
the answer would come into my mind, “ because you 
have lived improperly.” 
Therefore it occurred to me that if I could teach my 
fellow men how to live, I would accomplish a great 
stride in the upward progress of the human race. But 
how to do so. 
I fully realized the old saying, “That one man’s meat 
is another man’s poison.” I knew full well that the 
rules of life that would be applicable and beneficial to 
one man would be either negatively or positively in- 
jurious to another. 618 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
How, then, could I formulate laws of health and a 
method of life that would be calculated to prove bene- 
ficial to all alike. 
This was the hardest problem I had to solve. 
Finally, after much thought, consultation and deliber- 
ation, I concluded that if I could find out the methods of 
life pursued by those who had attained great age, and 
taking them all together, would strike an average, one 
step would be accomplished. Then, if with this point 
settled, I were to teach such laws of hygiene as are 
universally admitted to be correct by all men, that I 
would come nearer to the proper medium, or to the 
correct mode of life for universal mankind than I could 
hope to do in any other way. 
Therefore, as I have already said, I commenced my 
work by issuing the circular letter, given in the Ap- 
pendix, to an enormous number of men. To it I re- 
ceived thousands of answers, evidencing the interest in 
my work, and the desire for long life that is prevalent 
in this country. 
Unfortunately, the majority of my correspondents 
simply answered my questions, without any further 
remarks or comments; therefore, thinking that nothing 
could be gained by inserting them in full, I merely, as 
I have said, incorporated their substance into the body 
of the work. 
The very few who went more fully into the subject, 
I have published in the Appendix. 
My purpose in preparing this work has now been 
stated. 
We have now numerous sign posts, which all point 
toward a sanitary Mecca. We are rapidly approach- CONCLUSION. 
619 
ing the time when the universal world will have much 
more faith in the ability of man to prevent than to cure 
disease. The day of mystery has passed, at least for 
a time; the men and women of to-day are no longer 
satisfied with the say so of any one. 
This is an age of progress, and we all desire to know 
the why and wherefore of everything that it is possible 
for the human mind to unveil to us. 
Therefore have we commenced to penetrate into the 
hidden causes of disease; therefore, have our greatest 
investigators turned their attention toward discovering 
and determining the nature of these hitherto mysterious 
causes and agencies. 
Sanitary science is yet in its infancy; we are only 
now commencing to realize the fact that disease is 
avoidable and preventable; but this scientific infant is 
a precocious one ; it is growing rapidly, and ere long 
will blossom out into a mature organization, that will 
laugh to scorn the idea that disease is inevitable, and 
that will proclaim in thundering tones, throughout the 
universal world, the dogma, that all disease is the fault 
of man, and ought not to exist to pollute and disgrace 
this beautiful world. 
That such is a fact, the history of the world plainly 
teaches us. 
As any nation becomes settled, developed, and civil- 
ized, it commences to turn its attention to the more 
important questions of the preservation of health. 
In ancient times these efforts were directed with a 
certain amount of intelligence, but without the guidance 
of science, which is really the beacon light that must be 
the forerunner of all human progress. 620 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
In Greece we had, centuries ago, the wonderful 
athletic sports that made the sons of Greece the Sons of 
Mars; that made them physically invincible, and caused 
them to be such marvels of strength and beauty that 
their physical characteristics have been perpetuated in 
marble. 
In Rome we find records of the marvelous baths, the 
enormous, wonderful, and almost inconceivable baths 
of Caracalla and Constantine, to remind us that these 
ancient Romans thoroughly realized the advantages, 
or I might say, the necessities, not only of bathing, of 
washing the body, but of devoting a certain time to 
real laziness, which, if not carried to excess, is beneficial 
to every one. 
But while these glorious nations of antiquity seemed 
to have understood and to have practiced certain 
particular methods of what I might call sanitation, or 
health promoting measures, yet their ideas of hygiene 
were, so to speak, solitary; they failed to grasp, as we 
now do, the question in its entirety. They seemed to 
realize that the practices to which they resorted were 
calculated to make a man strong and healthy, and there- 
fore, because of his vigor, to resist disease, but it does 
not appear that they understood the true nature of 
hygiene, as we of to-day do. They failed to realize the 
fact that contagious and infectious diseases could be 
avoided, while they also seemed to be ignorant of the 
fact that a man born physically weak might yet, by care, 
live to old age. 
This more comprehensive view of hygiene has been 
reserved for our unprecedentedly progressive nine- 
teenth century. CONCLUSION. 
621 
But, only to-day, I have read in an influential paper 
that which causes me to issue a word of warning. 
This editorial, which I copy from the Philadelphia 
Times, June 9th, 1881, may have been written by a 
physician, but nevertheless, it is open to criticism. If 
penned by a layman, then must I consider it a well 
meant but unintelligent exposition of the progress of 
sanitary science; if by a physician, then I am com- 
pelled to say that, by so writing, he puts himself like a 
dark cloud between the sun of hygiene and the poor 
creatures it is trying to warm into healthy life:— 
THE PERILS OF LIVING. 
“The advance of science is a great thing, no doubt, 
but science does make the life of the average man very 
uncomfortable. Our fathers used to rise, and eat 
their breakfasts, and go about their business quietly 
and in content, and many of them lived to a green old 
age, in complacent ignorance of the perils that envi- 
roned them. Their sons have no such peace of mind. 
Easy lessons in chemistry, physiology, and pathology, 
are served up to them in their morning newspaper, 
and they have hardly got beyond the strawberries at 
breakfast before they are convinced that they are dying 
by slow poison. Their food is adulterated, their drink 
is poisoned, the atmosphere they breathe is murderous ; 
how, then, can they escape ? 
“ It has already been demonstrated clearly that there 
is nothing that one can drink without the most disas- 
trous effects. Schuylkill water is out of the question ; 
aerated waters are full of lead; natural mineral waters 
are harmful on some other ground; ice, according to 
an elaborate report just published, is even worse than 622 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
the water of the river whence it was taken; beer is 
sophisticated ; so are all wines, and spirits are inde- 
pendently destructive. This about exhausts the list of 
possible beverages, those not mentioned being for the 
most part compounds of river water. Our fathers used 
to drink all these things, or as many of them as they 
could get, with impunity. But then, our fathers did not 
know anything about science. 
“It was this ignorance alone that enabled them, not 
only to drink water and other deleterious beverages, 
but to eat all manner of food which any child of to-day 
who has so much as glanced into a microscope knows 
to be full of all manner of deadly things. If science 
continues to advance, it cannot be long before a pru- 
dent man will find it impossible to eat, as he already 
finds it dangerous to drink, and nearly fatal to breathe. 
And still there are people who, in spite of all this, 
cling fondly to life and profess to find it worth 
living.’' 
Since I regularly read and admire the Times, consid- 
ering it by all odds the best paper of its size published 
in this country, and realizing that its influence is 
deservedly very great, I feel that such an editorial, from 
such a journal, is calculated to do much harm, and there- 
fore needs and deserves refutation. In the first place, 
I know that Schuylkill water, under certain conditions, 
is bad, and injurious to health; but this is not the only 
water in the world. 
If a man will live in the country, as I have advised 
him to do, sink his own well, and see that it is not con- 
taminated from or by his drainage, he has perfectly 
pure water, and can drink as much of it as his fathers CONCLUSION. 
623 
did without injury to health. Aerated waters need not 
be full of lead, if passed through iron or glass pipes. 
If you will persist in using the old-fashioned lead 
pipe, of course the water will be very apt to contain 
lead that will render it poisonous to your system, but 
then you have no one to blame but yourself, because 
you have no business to use lead pipes. 
Natural mineral waters are not intended to be used 
as common beverages; when consumed properly they 
are not injurious. Apollinaris water can be used at any 
time and freely; the stronger mineral waters, such as 
the various Saratoga and other spring waters, are 
really medicinally remedial in their action, and therefore 
can only be used with benefit when necessity for their 
use exists. 
As a general rule, it can be said that every person 
would be better for a course of mineral waters every 
spring, upon the approach of warm weather. 
The old-time idea that the body requires depletion 
in spring is correct, though not in the same way that 
our grandmothers procured it. I know an old lady 
who, years ago, made it a practice to be bled every 
spring, as regularly as she made it a practice to go to 
the country. This procedure is unnecessarily severe, 
and in the light of modern teachings need not be 
resorted to. 
In a climate like ours, the majority of men eat too 
much in winter; the cold weather stimulates the appe- 
tite, and they indulge it inordinately ; as a consequence, 
when warm weather comes their blood is excessive in 
quantity, because in summer the necessity for blood is 
not so great as in winter, the demands upon it are less. 624 
HOW WE OUGHT TO LIVE. 
Therefore, on the approach of warm weather it is 
natural that one should eat less, so as to make less blood; 
but since few persons are sufficiently prudentor thought- 
ful to heed this advice, therefore does it become well 
to gently deplete the system. This can best be done 
by a course of natural mineral waters, which, acting 
on the bowels and kidneys, as well as all the other 
eliminatory organs, reduces the winter-gorged body to 
a standard compatible with the change in temperature. 
I would recommend to all who can afford it a two or 
three weeks’ sojourn every spring, at the nearest 
natural springs, and while there to drink freely of the 
waters. By freely, I mean to use no other liquids; 
whenever they would ordinarily drink a glass of plain 
water, or of any liquid, let them consume an equal 
quantity of the medicated spring water. 
If this cannot be accomplished, then the same prac- 
tice carried on at home, being sure that you have the 
natural and not an artificially prepared mineral water, 
will be the next best thing. 
At other times laxative mineral waters may be used 
by those who are constipated, or (under the advice of 
a physician) by those whose kidneys are inactive. 
I might go on and criticise this article still further, 
but for want of space. 
It is a fact, that life is a continual warfare against 
disease. This, all thoughtful men must and will con- 
cede. Civilization has produced so many insidious 
causes of disease that it is impossible, almost, to avoid 
them. They have accumulated and multiplied, just as 
the civilization and so-called progress of the world has. 
But we must ever realize that the most potent CONCLUSION. 
625 
enemy of longevity is mental worry, and that if we 
allow ourselves to worry over these dangers to 
health, we will by this very act do more toward short- 
ening life, than can be done by all these causes 
working together. 
Therefore, in conclusion, let me sum up the essence 
of my book by saying; you must not worry about any- 
thing if you desire long life. You must make it a 
rule to do the best you can in all things, and having 
done so, to take everything as it comes, placidly and 
quietly. Do not say that you cannot help worrying 
when things go wrong; you must help it, else you will 
surely die young. 
I am sure that my rules throughout this work are 
simple and easy of observance; I am equally sure that, 
if thoughtfully considered and faithfully executed, they 
will accomplish the purpose for which the work was 
commenced; namely, to teach my fellow men how to 
live long and healthy lives. Confident of these two 
positions, I reluctantly take leave of my offspring, 
that I have nurtured from infancy with that amount of 
care and solicitude possible only to the aiithor of its 
existence, and turn it loose, to make its own way in this 
great world, trusting fondly that those whom I have 
endeavored to benefit will receive my missionary child 
with a cordial welcome, and listening attentively to his 
teachings, will learn much of value to themselves 
from the instruction it has cost me so much time and 
labor to instill into him. INDEX. 
Acid, carbonic, in the atmosphere, 168. 
Action; of the heart, 239-242 ; of tobacco on the heart, 351; of alcohol 
on the brain, 365. 
Advice, hygienic, 515, 
After-treatment of pregnant women, 511. 
Age of reasoning, 115. 
Aged, the, precautions for, 441. 
Air; pure, 77 ; the need of, 169; cold, sensitiveness to, 170; bath, 
Franklin’s, 256. 
Alcohol; effects of, 307, 359, 371; tobacco, vs., 347; verdict of physicians 
against, 361; effect of, on the stomach, 363; on the brain, 365; 
what it does in the lungs, 367; effect of on liver, 369; on nervous 
system, 370; insidious effects of, 371; moderate use of, 372; 
beware of the first glass of, 372 ; avoid, when young, 375 ; effects 
of, on the blood, 375 ; never conduces to health, 379; opinions 
on, 381; habit, breaking the, 383 ; sad illustration of its use, 385. 
An; ideal house, 159, 165; ideal bath, 271; ideal bather, 287, 289; illus- 
tration of excess, 355. 
Analogy; mechanical, 35; between tobacco and opium, 349; a fitting, 
405- 
Animal, man an, 39. 
A parable on tobacco, 357. 
Appendix, 539-625. 
Apology for dogmatism, 32. 
Architecture of the house, 138. 
Arrangement of the house, 138. 
Artificial disease, 71. 
Atmosphere, carbonic acid in, 168. 
Attainment of longevity, 49. 
Avoid; surface drainage, 157 ; appetizers, 205; excess, 245 ; alcohol 
when young, 375. 
Babies, how and when to bathe, 55. 
Bath; air, Franklin’s 256 ; ideal, 271; buff, 284. 
Bather, an ideal, 287, 292. 628 
INDEX. 
Bathing; babies, 55; sea, 252,262, 272; effects of, 263; best time for, 
265 ; warm, 269 ; care in, 274; in the ocean, 275 ; injurious effects 
of, 277 ; moderate, 279; excessive, 280; before meals, 283 ; time 
for, 285; when to avoid, 286 ; beneficial to health, 288. 
Be regular in habit, 213. 
Benefits of country life, 487. 
Best; food, 79; country location, 151 ; bread 209; time for bathing; 
265 ; nurses, who they are, 521. 
Beware of the first glass of alcohol, 373. 
Blood; purity of, 61 ; effects of alcohol on, 377 ; circulation, 495. 
Boards of health, what they do, 407. 
Bodies, dead, disinfection of, 401. 
Body, human; systems of, 25; healthy performance of functions of, 26; 
a machine, 34. 
Brain; in sleep, condition of, 310; action of alcohol on the, 365. 
Bread, the best, 209. 
Breaking the alcohol habit, 383. 
Breast milk as nourishment, 80. 
Buff baths, 284. 
Carbonic acid in the atmosphere, 168. 
Care ; of infants, 73; in bathing, 274. 
Carrots, how to prepare for food, 212. 
Case, illustrative, of hygienic care, 29. 
Causes of sleeplessness, 305. 
Cheerful surroundings at meals, 227. 
Children; management of, 66 ; clothing for, 95. 
Circulation of the blood, 495. 
Climate and hygiene, 491. 
Cloaks, preferable to overcoats, 334. 
Clothing; for infants, 87 ; for children, 95; origin of, 323 ; necessity of, 
325; object of, 327, 330; texture of, 333. 
Collars, should be worn loose, 332. 
Cold air, sensitiveness to, 170. 
Comparative statistics, 189. 
Conclusion, 617. 
Condensed milk, a substitute for the cow, 85. 
Condition ; of brain in sleep, 310; essential to sleep, 311. 
Congenial work, 183, 193. 
Conservation of powers, 315. 
Constipation; remedy for, 517 ; guard against it, 513. 
Constituents of excess, 353. 
Consumption, what is it, 480. INDEX. 
629 
Contagious diseases, disinfection of sick-room in, 395. 
Convulsions of infants, 89. 
Cookery for sick-room, 531, 538. 
Copperas disinfectant, 396. 
Cornaro, case of, 29. 
Corsets, their use, 346. 
Costiveness of infants, 86. 
Country; location, the best, 151; drainage in, 152; life, benefits of, 487. 
Counter-irritation, 313. 
Court the sunshine, 137. 
Cow’s milk as food for infants, 56, 83. 
Cramming, mental, 117. 
Cultivate; familiar intercourse, 129; tranquillity, 319; regularity of 
habit, 503. 
Cure, “the tent,” 485. 
Danger of paternal harshness, 125. 
Dead bodies, disinfection of, 401. 
Decomposition, prevention of, 489. 
Destiny of children, 58. 
Development, physical, 91-102. 
Dietetic moderation, 31. 
Dipsomania, or oinomania, 374. 
Disease; heredity of, 69; artificial, 71 ; precautions against, 391; con- 
tagious, disinfection of sick-room in, 395 ; germs, tenacity of, 403; 
heart ; what it is, 495 ; organic, 497 ; hygiene in 499. 
Disinfection ; 145 ; of the sick-room in contagious diseases, 395 ; of dead 
bodies, 401. 
Distribution of sewage, 155. 
Dogmatism, apology for, 32. 
Drainage ; 141; in the country, 152 ; of the kitchen, 153 ; surface, to be 
avoided, 157. 
Drains, ventilating of, 149. 
Dress; for infants, 87; origin of, 324; object of, 326; for women, 339- 
344- 
Drink plenty of water, 214. 
Driving, as exercise, 251. 
Dust, inhalation of various kinds of, 190. 
Duties of a nurse, 523, 530. 
Duty; of mothers, 55 ; of physicians, 57. 
Early solicitude for the infant, 65. 630 
INDEX. 
Eat; how we ought to, 196; moderately, 197; leisurely, 199; systemati- 
cally, 201; regularly, 203 ; statedly, 207. 
Eating, necessity of repose after, 43. 
Education ; what is it, 105 ; physical, 121 ; by example, 123. 
Effects; of bathing, 263; of sea-bathing, 277 ; evil, of alcohol, 307, 
359. 371 I on stomach, 363; on the brain, 365 ; on the liver, 
368; on the nervous system, 370; on the blood, 377 ; of tight 
lacing, 509. 
Employment, relaxation from, 187. 
Essential conditions of sleep, 311. 
Equanimity, maintenance of, 445. 
Evil effects of alcohol, 307. 
Evils of gymnasiums, 237. 
Example; conservative, a, 127. 
Exceptional illustrations of longevity, 281. 
Excessive; bathing, 280; exercise, prevents sleep, 312. 
Excess ; 47; avoid it, 245 ; what constitutes it, 353; an illustration of, 
355- 
Exercise ; necessity of, 47; what is it, 229; physical, 234; moderate, 
235 ; general, 254, 255 ; mental, 257-261. 
Familiar intercourse at home, cultivation of, 129. 
Fashionable folly, 303. 
Fever; scarlet, malignancy of, 393 ; typhoid, 440. 
First glass of alcohol, 373. 
Fitting analogy, 405. 
Food; action of, 35 ; cow’s milk, as, 56; the best, 79; skimmed milk, 
as, 206. 
Folly, fashionable, 303. 
Force, vital, 28. 
Franklin’s air bath, 256. 
Fumigation, 399. 
Functions of the body, healthy performance of, 26. 
Future destiny of children, 58. 
Gas, sewer, 147. 
Germs ; poisonous, 392; disease, tenacity of, 403. 
General; rules for prolonging life, 41; exercise, 254, 255. 
Glass, first, of alcohol, 373. 
Guard against constipation, 513. 
Gymnasiums, evils of, 237. 
Habit; regularity of, 213, 503; alcohol, breaking the, 383. INDEX. 
631 
Harshness danger of, 125. 
Hat, ventilate the, 331. 
Health; bathing beneficial to, 288; alcohol never conduces to, 379 ■ 
boards of, what they do, 407. 
Healthy; performance of functions of the body, 26; mode of life, 133. 
Heart; action of the, 239-242; of tobacco on the, 351; disease, what is it, 
493 ; organic disease of, 497 ; hygiene in, 499. 
Heredity of disease, 69. 
Home, best location for a, 135. 
Hours, regular, for sleep, 321. 
House; arrangement and architecture of, 138 ; an ideal, 159-165. 
How; to prolong life, 41 ; to ventilate, 171-180; to work, 181; we ought 
to eat, 196 ; not to bathe, 286 ; to break the alcohol habit, 383; a 
pregnant woman ought to live, 502 : a nursing woman ought to 
live, 511. 
Human ; body, systems of, 25 ; a machine, 33. 
Hygiene ; and climate; 491; in heart disease, 499. 
Hygienic advice, 515. 
Ideal; house, an, 159-165 ; bath, 271; bather, 287-292. 
Illustration; of vital power, 29 ; of ignorance, 67 ; exceptional, of bath- 
ing, 281; sad, of the use of alcohol, 385 ; personal, 449-479. 
Impressions, maternal, 505-508. 
Impure water, 217-226. 
Individual responsibility, 437. 
Infants; nursing of, 53; nourishment for, 62 ; care of, 73; hardening 
of, 74; costiveness of, 86 ; clothing of, 87 ; convulsions of, 89. 
Influence of alcohol, 359. 
Inhalation of various kinds of dust, 190. 
Injurious effects ; of sea-bathing, 277 ; of excessive exercise, 312. 
Insidious effects of alcohol, 371. 
Intelligent knowledge needed, 63. 
Intercourse, familiar, cultivation of, 129. 
Inter-dependence of organs, 59. 
Introduction, 25. 
Involuntary muscles, 233. 
Irritation, counter, 313. 
Lacing, tight, effects of, 509. 
Laws, various sanitary, 421-434. 
Lessons, primary, for children, 109. 
Life; what is it, 27 ; prolongation of, 41 ; longevity of, 48 ; most healthy 
mode of, 133; at the seashore, 293-296 ; country, benefits of, 487. 632 
INDEX. 
Live ; temperately, 447-468 ; quietly, 501. 
Liver, effect of alcohol on, 369. 
Living ; simple rules for, 51 ; moderation in, 24. 
Location ; best, for a home, 135 ; the best country, 151. 
Longevity, attainable, 49, 
Lungs; action of alcohol on, 367 ; the office of, 481. 
Maccaroni, how to prepare for food, 211. 
Machine, man a, 33. 
Maintain equanimity, 445. 
Malignancy of scarlet fever, 393. 
Man, what is he, 39. 
Management of children, 66. 
Maternal impressions, 505-508. 
Meals, bathing before, 283. 
Measures, precautionary, against infection, 397. 
Mechanical analogy, a, 35. 
Mental; superiority, 37 ; cramming, 117 ; exercise, 257-261. 
Milk ; condensed, 85 ; skimmed, as food, 206. 
Moderation ; in diet, 30; in study, 119 ; in living, 124; in eating, 197. 
Moderate; exercise, 235 ; bathing, 279 ; use of alcohol, 372. 
Most healthy mode of life, 133. 
Mothers; duty of, 55; milk, substitutes for, 81. 
Murderer ; story of a, vs. alcohol, 387. 
Muscles; voluntary, 231 ; involuntary, 233. 
Napping, when it is proper, 317. 
Necessity; of exercise, 47; of pure air, 169; of sleep, 29 7 ; of clothing. 
325- 
Nervous system, effects of alcohol on the, 370. 
Nurse; what constitutes a, 519; duties of a, 523-530. 
Nurses, who are the best, 521. 
Nursing; of infants, 53 ; bottle, 84; woman, how she ought to live, 512. 
Object; teaching, 107 ; of clothing, 327-330. 
Ocean bathing, 273. 
Office; of oxygen, 167 ; of the skin, 267 ; of the lungs, 481. 
Oinomania, or dipsomania, 374. 
Open air work, its advantages, 191. 
Opinions about alcohol, 381. 
Opium and tobacco, 349. 
Organs, inter-dependence of, 59. 
Organic disease of heart, 497. INDEX. 
633 
Origin of clothing, 323. 
Oxygen, the office of, 167. 
Parable on tobacco, 357. 
Peas, how to prepare for food, 212. 
Period to be devoted to work, 185. 
Personal illustrations of longevity, 449-479. 
Physicians’ ; duty, 57 ; verdict against alcohol, 361. 
Physical; development, 91-102 ; education, 121 ; exercise, 234. 
Poisonous germs, how to avoid, 392. 
Powers, conservation of, 315, 
Precautionary measures, 397. 
Precautions ; against disease, 391; sanitary, 435 ; for the aged, 441. 
Pregnant women ; how they ought to live, 502 ; after-treatment of, 511. 
Prevention ; of disease, 48 ; of decomposition, 489. 
Primary lessons for children, 109. 
Products of work, 143. 
Prolongation of life, 41. 
Proper ; nourishment for, and from the blood, 62 ; time for sleep, 301. 
Puberty, the period of, 103. 
Pure air ; how to secure it, 77 ; the quantity needed, 169. 
Purity of blood essential to healthy life, 61. 
Quantity of pure air needed, 169. 
Quiet living conducive to longevity, 501. 
Railroad traveling as exercise, 252. 
Reasoning, age of, 115. 
Reduce the working period, 185. 
Regular hours for sleep, 321. 
Regularity ; in eating, 203 ; of habit, 213, 503. 
Relaxing employment, 187. 
Remedy for constipation, 517. 
Renovator, sleep as a, 299. 
Reparation of waste, 45. 
Riding, as exercise, 249. 
Repose after eating, necessity of, 43. 
Restrain, rather than train, 131. 
Responsibility, individual, 437. 
Required time for sleep, 300. 
Room ; temperature of, for infants, 76; sick, disinfection of, in conta- 
gious diseases, 395 ; cooking for the, 531-538. 634 
INDEX. 
Rowing, as exercise, 251. 
Rules, for prolonging life, 41 ; for living, 51. 
Sad illustration of the use of alcohol, 385. 
Sanitary ; laws, various, 409-434; precautions, 435. 
Scarlet fever, malignancy of, 393. 
School period, the, m-113. 
Sea bathing ; 252, 253, 272 ; injurious effects of, 277. 
Seashore, life at the, 293-296. 
Secure; pure air, 77 ; ventilation, 139. 
Seek congenial work, 183. 
Sensitiveness to cold air, 170. 
Sewage, distribution of, 155. 
Sewer gas, 147. 
Sick-room; disinfection of, in contagious diseases, 395 ; cookery, 531-538. 
Shoes, have them roomy, 337. 
Simple rules for living, 51. 
Skimmed milk as food, 206. 
Skin, office of, 267. 
Sleep ; necessity for, 297 ; a renovator, 299 ; time required for, 301, 309 ; 
true, 306 ; condition of brain in, 310; conditions essential to, 
311 ; excessive exercise injurious to, 312 ; regular hours for, 321. 
Sleeplessness, causes of, 305. 
Smoking, 350. 
Soul, its identity, 40. 
Sound sleep, 320. 
Stated eating, 207. 
Statistics, comparative, 189. 
Stockings, change with the weather, 335. 
Stomach, effect of alcohol on the, 363. 
Story of a murderer vs. alcohol, 387. 
Study, moderation in, 119. 
Style of dress, 324. 
Substitutes for mother’s milk, 81. 
Sunshine, courting the, 137. 
Superiority of the mental organization, 37. 
Surface drainage, avoid it, 157. 
Surroundings, cheerful, 227. 
Systematic; eating, 201 ; walking, 247. 
System, nervous effects of alcohol on the, 370. 
Systems of the human body, 25. 
Tank-water; for drinking purposes, 154; for washing purposes, 154. INDEX. 
635 
Teaching by objects, 107. 
Temperate living, 447-468. 
Temperature of room for infants, 76. 
Tenacity of disease germs, 403. 
Tent cure, 485. 
Texture of clothing, 333. 
The - best bread, 209; hat, 331; use of corsets, 340; tent cure, 485; 
blood circulation, 495. 
Thymol water, how to make it, 395. 
Tight lacing, effects of, 509. 
Time ; for bathing, 265, 285 ; for sleep, 301, 309. 
Tobacco; why we ought not to use it, 345; vs. alcohol, 347; and 
opium, analogy between, 349; action of, on the heart, 351 ; a 
parable on, 357. 
Train, rather than restrain, 131. 
Tranquillity, cultivation of 319. 
Traveling, railroad, 252. 
Treatment, after, of pregnant women, 511. 
True sleep, 306. 
Typhoid fever, 440. 
Under clothing, 332. 
Use; of corsets, 340; of tobacco, 345 ; of alcohol, 372, 385. 
Various sanitary laws, 421-434. 
Verdict of physicians against alcohol, 361. 
Ventilate, how to, 139, 166, 171-180. 
Ventilating drains, 149. 
Vital force, 28, 72. 
Voluntary muscles, 23. 
Walk systematically, 247. 
Walking, 243. 
Warm bathing, 269. 
Waste; reparation of, 45 ; products of, 143. 
Watchfulness, early, 65. 
Water; drink plenty of, 214, 215 ; impure, 217-226. 
What; is life, 27 ; is man, 39; is exercise, 229 ; constitutes excess, 353 ; 
alcohol does in the lungs, 367 ; alcohol leads to, 389 ; boards of 
health do, 407 ; is consumption, 483 ; is heart disease, 493; con- 
stitutes a nurse, 519. 
When not to bathe, 286. 
Who ; should bathe in the ocean, 275 ; are the best nurses, 521. 636 
INDEX. 
Why we ought not to use tobacco, 345. 
Woman, nursing, how she ought to live, 512. 
Women ; dress for, 339, 341-344; pregnant, how they ought to live, 502; 
after-treatment of, 511. 
Work; howto, 181 ; congenial, 183, 193; in the open air, 191 ; me- 
thodically, 195. 
Working period, the, 185. 
Young, evil influence of alcohol on the, 375. 
Zinc disinfectant, 396.