Many diseases are infectious. Every person ought therefore, as far as he can, to avoid all communication with the diseased. The common practice of visiting the sick, though often well meant, has many ill consequences. Far be it from us to discourage any act of charity or benevolence, especially towards those in distress; but we cannot help blaming such as endanger their own or their neighbours lives by a mistaken friendship or an impertinent curiosity.
The houses of the sick, especially in the country, are generally crowded from morning till night with idle visitors. It is customary, in such places, for servants and young people to wait upon the sick by turns, and even to sit up with them all night. It would be a miracle indeed should such always escape. Experience teaches us the danger of this conduct. People often catch fevers in this way, and communicate them to others, till at length they become epidemic.
It would be thought highly improper, for one who had not had the small-pox, to wait upon a patient in that disease; yet many other fevers are almost as infectious as the small-pox, and not less fatal. Some imagine that fevers prove more fatal in villages than in great towns, for want of proper medical assistance. This may sometimes be the case; but we are inclined to think it oftener proceeds from the cause above mentioned.
Were a plan to be laid down for communicating infection, it could not be done more effectually than by the common method of visiting the sick. Such visitors not only endanger themselves and their connections, but likewise hurt the sick. By crowding the house, they render the air unwholesome, and by their private whispers and dismal countenances disturb the imagination of the patient, and depress his spirits. Persons who are ill, especially in fevers, ought to be kept as quiet as possible. The sight of strange faces, and every thing that disturbs the mind, hurts them.
The common practice in country-places of inviting great numbers of people to funerals, and crowding them into the same apartment where the corpse lies, is another way of spreading infection. The infection does not always die with the patient. Every thing that comes into contact with his body while alive, receives the contagion, and some of them, as clothes, blankets, &c. will retain it for a long time. Persons who die of infectious disorders ought not to lie long unburied; and people should keep as much as possible at a distance from them.
It would tend greatly to prevent the spreading of infectious diseases, if those in health were kept at a proper distance from the sick. The Jewish Legislator, among many other wise institutions for preserving health, has been peculiarly attentive to the means of preventing infection, or defilement as it is called, either from a diseased person or a dead body. In many cases the diseased were to be separated from those in health; and it was deemed a crime even to approach their habitations. If a person only touched a diseased or dead body, he was appointed to wash himself in water, and to keep for some time at a distance from society.
Infectious diseases are often communicated by clothes. It is extremely dangerous to wear apparel which has been worn by the deceased, unless it has been well washed and fumigated, as infection may lodge a long time in it, and afterwards produce very tragical effects. This shews the danger of buying at random the clothes which have been worn by other people.
Infectious disorders are frequently imported. Commerce, together with the riches of foreign climes, brings us also their diseases. These do often more than counterbalance all the advantages of that trade by means of which they are introduced. It is to be regretted, that so little care is commonly bestowed, either to prevent the introduction or spreading of infectious maladies. Some attention indeed is generally paid to the plague; but other diseases pass unregarded[49].
Infection is often spread through cities, by jails, hospitals, &c. These are frequently situated in the very middle of populous towns; and when infectious diseases break out in them, it is impossible for the inhabitants to escape. Did magistrates pay any regard to the health of the people, this evil might be easily remedied.
Many are the causes which tend to diffuse infection through populous cities. The whole atmosphere of a large town is one contaminated mass, abounding with various kinds of infection, and must be pernicious to health. The best advice that we can give to such as are obliged to live in large cities is, to chuse an open situation; to avoid narrow, dirty, crowded streets; to keep their own house and offices clean; and to be as much abroad in the open air as their time will permit.
It would tend greatly to prevent the spreading of infectious diseases, were proper nurses every where employed to take care of the sick. This might often save a family, or even a whole town, from being infected by one person. We do not mean that people should abandon their friends or relations in distress, but only to put them on their guard against being too much in company with those who are afflicted with diseases of an infectious nature.
Such as wait upon the sick in infectious diseases run very great hazard. They should stuff their noses with tobacco, or some other strong smelling herb, as rue, tansy, or the like. They ought likewise to keep the patient very clean, to sprinkle the room where he lies with vinegar, or other strong acids, frequently to admit a stream of fresh air into it, and to avoid the smell of his breath as much as they can. They ought never to go into company without having changed their clothes and washed their hands; otherwise, if the disease be infectious, they will in all probability carry the contagion along with them[50].
However trifling it may appear to inconsiderate persons, we will venture to affirm, that a due attention to those things which tend to diffuse infection would be of great importance in preventing diseases. As most diseases are in some degree infectious, no one should continue long with the sick, except the necessary attendants. I mean not, however, by this caution, to deter those whose duty or office leads them to wait upon the sick, from such a laudable and necessary employment.
Many things are in the power of the magistrate which would tend to prevent the spreading of infection; as the promoting of public cleanliness; removing jails, hospitals, burying grounds, and other places where infection may be generated, at a proper distance from great towns[51]; widening the streets; pulling down useless walls, and taking all methods to promote a free circulation of air through every part of the town, &c. Public hospitals, or proper places of reception for the sick, provided they were kept clean, well ventilated, and placed in an open situation, would likewise tend to prevent the spreading of infection. Such places of reception would prevent the poor, when sick, from being visited by their idle or officious neighbours. They would likewise render it unnecessary for sick servants to be kept in their master’s houses. Masters had better pay for having their servants taken care of in an hospital, than run the hazard of having an infectious disease diffused among a numerous family. Sick servants and poor people, when placed in hospitals, are not only less apt to diffuse infection among their neighbours, but have likewise the advantage of being well attended.
We are not, however, to learn that hospitals, instead of preventing infection, may become the means of diffusing it. When they are placed in the middle of great towns; when numbers of patients are crowded together in small apartments; when there is a constant communication kept up between the citizens and the patients; and when cleanliness and ventilation are neglected, they become nests for hatching diseases, and every one who goes into them not only runs a risk of receiving infection himself, but likewise of communicating it to others. This however is not the fault of the hospitals, but of those who have the management of them. It were to be wished, that they were both more numerous, and upon a more respectable footing, as that would induce people to go into them with less reluctance. This is the more to be desired, because most of the putrid fevers and other infectious disorders break out among the poor, and are by them communicated to the better sort. Were proper attention paid to the first appearances of such disorders, and the patients early conveyed to an hospital, we should seldom see a putrid fever, which is almost as infectious as the plague, become epidemic.
The passions have great influence both in the cause and cure of diseases. How the mind affects the body, will in all probability ever remain a secret. It is sufficient for us to know, that there is established a reciprocal influence between the mental and corporeal parts; and that whatever injures the one disorders the other.
The passion of anger ruffles the mind, distorts the countenance, hurries on the circulation of the blood, and disorders the whole vital and animal functions. It often occasions fevers, and other acute diseases; and sometimes even sudden death. This passion is peculiarly hurtful to the delicate, and those of weak nerves. I have known such persons frequently lose their lives by a violent fit of anger, and would advise them to guard against the excess of this passion with the utmost care.
It is not indeed always in our power to prevent being angry; but we may surely avoid harbouring resentment in our breast. Resentment preys upon the mind, and occasions the most obstinate chronical disorders, which gradually waste the constitution. Nothing shews true greatness of mind more than to forgive injuries; it promotes the peace of society, and greatly conduces to our own ease, health, and felicity.
Such as value health should avoid violent gusts of anger, as they would the most deadly poison. Neither ought they to indulge resentment, but to endeavour at all times to keep their minds calm and serene. Nothing tends so much to the health of the body as a constant tranquillity of mind.
The influence of fear, both in occasioning and aggravating diseases, is very great. No man ought to be blamed for a decent concern about life; but too great a desire to preserve it is often the cause of losing it. Fear and anxiety, by depressing the spirits, not only dispose us to diseases, but often render those diseases fatal which an undaunted mind would overcome.
Sudden fear has generally violent effects. Epileptic fits, and other convulsive disorders, are often occasioned by it. Hence the danger of that practice, so common among young people, of frightening one another. Many have lost their lives, and others have been rendered miserable, by frolics of this kind. It is dangerous to tamper with the human passions. The mind may easily be thrown into such disorder as never again to act with regularity.
But the gradual effects of fear prove most hurtful. The constant dread of some future evil, by dwelling upon the mind, often occasions the very evil itself. Hence it comes to pass, that so many die of those very diseases of which they long had a dread, or which had been impressed on their minds by some accident, or foolish prediction. This, for example, is often the case with women in child-bed. Many of those who die in that situation are impressed with the notion of their death a long time before it happens; and there is reason to believe that this impression is often the cause of it.
The methods taken to impress the minds of women with the apprehensions of the great pain and peril of child-birth, are very hurtful. Few women die in labour, though many lose their lives after it; which may be thus accounted for. A woman after delivery, finding herself weak and exhausted, immediately apprehends she is in danger; but this fear seldom fails to obstruct the necessary evacuations, upon which her recovery depends. Thus the sex often fall a sacrifice to their own imaginations, when there would be no danger, did they apprehend none.
It seldom happens that two or three women in a great town die in child-bed, but their death is followed by many others. Every woman of their acquaintance who is with child dreads the same fate, and the disease becomes epidemical by the mere force of imagination. This should induce pregnant women to despise fear, and by all means to avoid those tattling gossips who are continually buzzing in their ears the misfortunes of others. Every thing that may in the least alarm a pregnant or child-bed woman, ought with the greatest care to be guarded against.
Many women have lost their lives in child-bed by the old superstitious custom, still kept up in most parts of Britain, of tolling the parish bell for every person who dies. People who think themselves in danger are very inquisitive; and if they come to know that the bell tolls for one who died in the same situation with themselves, what must be the consequence? At any rate they are apt to suppose that this is the case, and it will often be found a very difficult matter to persuade them of the contrary.
But this custom is not pernicious to child-bed women only. It is hurtful in many other cases. When low fevers, in which it is difficult to support the patient’s spirits, prevail, what must be the effect of a funeral peal sounding five or six times a day in his ears? No doubt his imagination will suggest that others died of the same disease under which he labours. This apprehension will have a greater tendency to depress his spirits, than all the cordials of which medicine can boast will have to raise them.
If this useless piece of ceremony cannot be abolished, we ought to keep the sick as much from hearing it as possible, and from every other thing that may tend to alarm them. So far however is this from being generally attended to, that many make it their business to visit the sick, on purpose to whisper dismal stories in their ears. Such may pass for sympathizing friends, but they ought rather to be considered as enemies. All who wish well to the sick ought to keep such persons at the greatest distance from them.
A custom has long prevailed among physicians, of prognosticating, as they call it, the patient’s fate, or foretelling the issue of the disease. Vanity no doubt introduced this practice, and still supports it, in spite of common sense and the safety of mankind. I have known a physician barbarous enough to boast, that he pronounced more sentences than all his Majesty’s judges. Would to God that such sentences were not often equally fatal! It may indeed be alleged, that the doctor does not declare his opinion before the patient. So much the worse. A sensible patient had better hear what the doctor says, than learn it from the disconsolate looks, the watery eyes, and the broken whispers of those about him. It seldom happens, when the doctor gives an unfavourable opinion, that it can be concealed from the patient. The very embarrassment which the friends and attendants shew in disguising what he has said, is generally sufficient to discover the truth.
Kind Heaven has, for the wisest ends, concealed from mortals their fate; and we do not see what right any man has to announce the death of another, especially if such a declaration has a chance to kill him. Mankind are indeed very fond of prying into future events, and seldom fail to solicit the physician for his opinion. A doubtful answer, however, or one that may tend rather to encourage the hopes of the sick, is surely the most safe. This conduct could neither hurt the patient nor the physician. Nothing tends more to destroy the credit of physic than those bold prognosticators, who, by the bye, are generally the most ignorant of the faculty. The mistakes which daily happen in this way are so many standing proofs of human vanity, and the weakness of science.
We readily admit, that there are cases where the physician ought to give intimation of the patient’s danger to some of his near connexions; though even this ought always to be done with the greatest caution: but it never can be necessary in any case that the whole town and country should know, immediately after the doctor has made his first visit, that he has no hopes of his patient’s recovery. Persons whose impertinent curiosity leads them to question the physician, with regard to the fate of his patient, certainly deserve no other than an evasive answer.
The vanity of foretelling the fate of the sick is not peculiar to the faculty. Others follow their example, and those who think themselves wiser than their neighbours often do much hurt in this way. Humanity surely calls upon every one to comfort the sick, and not to add to their affliction by alarming their fears. A friend, or even a physician, may often do more good by a mild and sympathizing behaviour than by medicine, and should never neglect to administer that greatest of all cordials, Hope.
Grief is the most destructive of all the passions. Its effects are permanent, and when it sinks deep into the mind, it generally proves fatal. Anger and fear, being of a more violent nature, seldom last long; but grief often changes into a fixed melancholy, which preys upon the spirits, and wastes the constitution. This passion ought not to be indulged. It may generally be conquered at the beginning; but when it has gained strength, all attempts to remove it are vain.
No person can prevent misfortunes in life; but it shews true greatness of mind to bear them with serenity. Many persons make a merit of indulging grief, and when misfortunes happen, they obstinately refuse all consolation, till the mind, overwhelmed with melancholy, sinks under the load. Such conduct is not only destructive to health, but inconsistent with reason, religion, and common sense.
Change of ideas is as necessary for health as change of posture. When the mind dwells long upon one subject, especially of a disagreeable nature, it hurts the whole functions of the body. Hence grief indulged spoils the digestion and destroys the appetite; by which means the spirits are depressed, the nerves relaxed, the bowels inflated with wind, and the humours, for want of fresh supplies of chyle, vitiated. Thus many an excellent constitution has been ruined by a family misfortune, or any thing that occasions excessive grief.
It is utterly impossible, that any person of a dejected mind should enjoy health. Life may indeed be dragged out for a few years; but whoever would live to a good old age, must be good-humoured and cheerful. This indeed is not altogether in our own power; yet our temper of mind, as well as our actions, depend greatly upon ourselves. We can either associate with cheerful or melancholy companions, mingle in the amusements and offices of life, or sit still and brood over our calamities as we choose. These, and many such things, are certainly in our power, and from these the mind generally takes its cast.
The variety of scenes which present themselves to the senses, were certainly designed to prevent our attention from being too long fixed upon any one object. Nature abounds with variety, and the mind, unless fixed down by habit, delights in contemplating new objects. This at once points out the method of relieving the mind in distress. Turn the attention frequently to new objects. Examine them for some time. When the mind begins to recoil, shift the scene. By this means a constant succession of new ideas may be kept up, till the disagreeable ones entirely disappear. Thus travelling, the study of any art or science, reading or writing on such subjects as deeply engage the attention, will sooner expel grief than the most sprightly amusements.
It has already been observed, that the body cannot be healthy unless it be exercised; neither can the mind. Indolence nourishes grief. When the mind has nothing else to think of but calamities, no wonder that it dwells there. Few people who pursue business with attention are hurt by grief. Instead therefore of abstracting ourselves from the world or business, when misfortunes happen, we ought to engage in it with more than usual attention, to discharge with double diligence the functions of our station, and to mix with friends of a cheerful and social temper.
Innocent amusements are by no means to be neglected. These, by leading the mind insensibly to the contemplation of agreeable objects, help to dispel the gloom which misfortunes cast over it. They make time seem less tedious, and have many other happy effects.
Some persons, when overwhelmed with grief, betake themselves to drinking. This is making the cure worse than the disease. It seldom fails to end in the ruin of fortune, character, and constitution.
Love is perhaps the strongest of all the passions; at least, when it becomes violent, it is less subject to the control either of the understanding or will, than any of the rest. Fear, anger, and several other passions, are necessary for the preservation of the individual, but love is necessary for the continuation of the species itself; it was therefore proper that this passion should be deeply rooted in the human breast.
Though love be a strong passion, it is seldom so rapid in its progress as several of the others. Few persons fall desperately in love all at once. We would therefore advise every one, before he tampers with this passion, to consider well the probability of his being able to obtain the object of his love. When that is not likely, he should avoid every occasion of increasing it. He ought immediately to fly the company of the beloved object; to apply his mind attentively to business or study; to take every kind of amusement; and above all, to endeavour, if possible, to find another object which may engage his affections, and which it may be in his power to obtain.
There is no passion with which people are so ready to tamper as love, although none is more dangerous. Some men make love for amusement, others from mere vanity, or on purpose to shew their consequence with the fair. This is perhaps the greatest piece of cruelty which any one can be guilty of. What we eagerly wish for we easily credit. Hence the too credulous fair are often betrayed into a situation which is truly deplorable, before they are able to discover that the pretended lover was only in jest. But there is no jesting with this passion. When love is got to a certain height, it admits of no other cure but the possession of its object, which in this case ought always if possible to be obtained[52].
Many persons of a religious turn of mind behave as if they thought it a crime to be cheerful. They imagine the whole of religion consists in certain mortifications, or denying themselves the smallest indulgence, even of the most innocent amusements. A perpetual gloom hangs over their countenances, while the deepest melancholy preys upon their minds. At length the fairest prospects vanish, every thing puts on a dismal appearance, and those very objects which ought to give delight afford nothing but disgust. Life itself becomes a burden, and the unhappy wretch, persuaded that no evil can equal what he feels, often puts an end to his own miserable existence.
It is great pity that ever religion should be so far perverted, as to become the cause of those very evils which it was designed to cure. Nothing can be better calculated than True Religion, to raise and support the mind of its votaries under every affliction that can befal them. It teaches them that even the sufferings of this life are preparatory to the happiness of the next; and that all who persist in a course of virtue shall at length arrive at complete felicity.
Persons whose business it is to recommend religion to others, should beware of dwelling too much on gloomy subjects. That peace and tranquillity of mind, which true religion is calculated to inspire, is a more powerful argument in its favour than all the terrors that can be uttered. Terror may indeed deter men from outward acts of wickedness, but can never inspire them with that love of God, and real goodness of heart, in which alone true religion consists.
To conclude; the best way to counteract the violence of any passion, is to keep the mind closely engaged in some useful pursuit.
The principal evacuations from the human body are those by stool, urine, and insensible perspiration. None of these can be long obstructed without impairing the health. When that which ought to be thrown out of the body is too long retained, it not only occasions a plethora, or too great fulness of the vessels, but acquires qualities which are hurtful to the health, as acrimony, putrescence, &c.
Few things conduce more to health than keeping the body regular. When the fæces lie too long in the bowels, they vitiate the humours; and when they are too soon discharged, the body is not sufficiently nourished. A medium is therefore to be desired, which can only be obtained by regularity in diet, sleep, and exercise. Whenever the body is not regular, there is reason to suspect a fault in one or other of these.
Persons who eat and drink at irregular hours, and who eat various kinds of food, and drink of several different liquors at every meal, have no reason to expect either that their digestion will be good, or their discharges regular. Irregularity in eating and drinking disturbs every part of the animal œconomy, and never fails to occasion diseases. Either too much or too little food will have this effect. The former indeed generally occasions looseness, and the latter costiveness; but both have a tendency to hurt the health.
It would be difficult to ascertain the exact number of stools which may be consistent with health, as these differ in the different periods of life, in different constitutions, and even in the same constitution under a different regimen of diet, exercise, &c. It is however generally allowed, that one stool a-day is sufficient for an adult, and that less is hurtful. But this, like most general rules, admits of many exceptions. I have known persons in perfect health who did not go to stool above once a-week. Such a degree of costiveness however is not safe; though the person who labours under it may for some time enjoy tolerable health, yet at length it may occasion diseases.
One method of procuring a stool every day is to rise betimes, and go abroad in the open air. Not only the posture in bed is unfavourable to regular stools, but also the warmth. This, by promoting the perspiration, lessens all the other discharges.
The method recommended for this purpose by Mr. Locke is likewise very proper, viz. to solicit nature, by going regularly to stool every morning whether one has a call or not. Habits of this kind may be acquired, which will in time become natural.
Persons who have frequent recourse to medicines for preventing costiveness seldom fail to ruin their constitution. Purging medicines frequently repeated weaken the bowels, hurt the digestion, and every dose makes way for another, till at length they become as necessary as daily bread. Those who are troubled with costiveness ought rather, if possible, to remove it by diet than drugs. They should likewise go thinly clothed, and avoid every thing of an astringent or of an heating nature. The diet and other regimen necessary in this case will be found under the article Costiveness, where this state of the bowels is treated as a disease.
Such persons as are troubled with a habitual looseness ought likewise to suit their diet to the nature of their complaint. They should use food which braces and strengthens the bowels, and which is rather of an astringent quality, as wheat-bread made of the finest flour, cheese, eggs, rice boiled in milk, &c. Their drink should be red port, claret, brandy and water in which toasted bread has been boiled, and such like.
As a habitual looseness is often owing to an obstructed perspiration, persons affected with it ought to keep their feet warm, to wear flannel next their skin, and take every other method to promote the perspiration. Further directions with regard to the treatment of this complaint will be found under the article Looseness.
So many things tend to change both the quantity and appearances of the urine, that it is very difficult to lay down any determined rules for judging of either[53]. Dr. Cheyne says, the urine ought to be equal to three-fourths of the liquid part of our aliment. But suppose any one were to take the trouble of measuring both, he would find that every thing which altered the degree of perspiration, would alter this proportion, and likewise that different kinds of aliment would afford very different quantities of urine. Though for these, and other reasons, no rule can be given for judging of the precise quantity of urine which ought to be discharged, yet a person of common sense will seldom be at a loss to know when it is in either extreme.
As a free discharge of urine not only prevents but actually cures many diseases, it ought by all means to be promoted; and every thing that may obstruct it should be carefully avoided. Both the secretion and discharge of urine are lessened by a sedentary life, sleeping on beds that are too soft and warm, food of a dry and heating quality, liquors which are astringent and heating, as red port, claret, and such like. Those who have reason to suspect that their urine is in too small quantity, or who have any symptoms of the gravel, ought not only to avoid these things, but whatever else they find has a tendency to lessen the quantity of their urine.
When the urine is too long retained, it is not only resorbed, or taken up again into the mass of fluids, but by stagnating in the bladder it becomes thicker, the more watery parts flying off first, and the more gross and earthy remaining behind. By the constant tendency which these have to concrete, the formation of stones and gravel in the bladder is promoted. Hence it comes to pass, that indolent and sedentary people are much more liable to these diseases, than persons of a more active life.
Many persons have lost their lives, and others have brought on very tedious, and even incurable disorders, by retaining their urine too long, from a false delicacy. When the bladder has been over-distended, it often loses its power of action altogether, or becomes paralytic, by which means it is rendered unable either to retain the urine, or expel it properly. The calls of Nature ought never to be postponed. Delicacy is doubtless a virtue, but that can never be reckoned true delicacy, which induces any one to risk his health or hazard his life.
But the urine may be in too great as well as too small a quantity. This may be occasioned by drinking large quantities of weak watery liquors, by the excessive use of alkaline salts, or any thing that stimulates the kidnies, dilutes the blood, &c. This disorder very soon weakens the body, and induces a consumption. It is difficult to cure, but may be mitigated by strengthening diet and astringent medicines, such as are recommended under the article Diabetes, or excessive discharge of urine.
Insensible perspiration is generally reckoned the greatest of all the discharges from the human body. It is of so great importance to health, that few diseases attack us while it goes properly on; but when it is obstructed, the whole frame is soon disordered. This discharge however, being less perceptible than any of the rest, is consequently less attended to. Hence it is, that acute fevers, rheumatisms, agues, &c. often proceed from obstructed perspiration before we are aware of its having taken place.
On examining patients, we find most of them impute their diseases either to violent colds which they had caught, or to slight ones which had been neglected. For this reason, instead of a critical inquiry into the nature of the perspiration, its difference in different seasons, climates, constitutions, &c. we shall endeavour to point out the causes which most commonly obstruct it, and to shew how far they may be either avoided, or have their influence counteracted by timely care. The want of a due attention to these, costs Britain annually some thousands of useful lives.
One of the most common causes of obstructed perspiration, or catching cold, in this country, is the changeableness of the weather, or state of the atmosphere. There is no place where such changes happen more frequently than in Great Britain. With us the degrees of heat and cold are not only very different in the different seasons of the year, but often change almost from one extreme to another in a few days, and sometimes even in the course of one day. That such changes must affect the state of the perspiration is obvious to every one[54].
The best method of fortifying the body against the changes of the weather, is to be abroad every day. Those who keep most within doors are most liable to catch cold. Such persons generally render themselves so delicate as to feel even the slightest changes in the atmosphere, and by their pains, coughs, and oppressions of the breast, &c. they become a kind of living barometers.
Wet clothes not only by their coldness obstruct the perspiration, but their moisture, by being absorbed, or taken up into the body, greatly increases the danger. The most robust constitution is not proof against the danger arising from wet clothes; they daily occasion fevers, rheumatisms, and other fatal disorders, even in the young and healthy.
It is impossible for people who go frequently abroad to avoid sometimes being wet. But the danger might generally be lessened, if not wholly prevented, by changing their clothes soon; when this cannot be done, they should keep in motion till they be dry. So far are many from taking this precaution, that they often sit or lie down in the fields with their clothes wet, and frequently sleep even whole nights in this condition. The frequent instances which we have of the fatal effects of this conduct, ought certainly to deter others from being guilty of it.
Even wet feet often occasion fatal diseases. The colic, inflammations of the breast and of the bowels, the iliac passion, cholera morbus, &c. are often occasioned by wet feet. Habit will, no doubt, render this less dangerous; but it ought, as far as possible, to be avoided. The delicate, and those who are not accustomed to have their clothes or feet wet should be peculiarly careful in this respect.
The perspiration is often obstructed by night air; even in summer, this ought to be avoided. The dews which fall plentifully after the hottest day, make the night more dangerous than when the weather is cool. Hence, in warm countries, the evening dews are more hurtful than where the climate is more temperate.
It is very agreeable after a warm day to be abroad in the cool evening; but this is a pleasure to be avoided by all who value their health. The effects of evening dews are gradual indeed, and almost imperceptible; but they are not the less to be dreaded: we would therefore advise travellers, labourers, and all who are much heated by day, carefully to avoid them. When the perspiration has been great, these become dangerous in proportion. By not attending to this, in flat marshy countries, where the exhalations and dews are copious, labourers are often seized with intermitting fevers, quinseys, and other dangerous diseases.
Beds become damp, either from their not being used, standing in damp houses, or in rooms without fire. Nothing is more to be dreaded by travellers than damp beds, which are very common in all places where fuel is scarce. When a traveller, cold and wet, arrives at an inn, he may by means of a good fire, warm diluting liquor, and a dry bed, have the perspiration restored; but if he be put into a cold room, and laid on a damp bed, it will be more obstructed, and the worst consequences will ensue. Travellers should avoid inns which are noted for damp beds, as they would a house infected with the plague, as no man, however robust, is proof against the danger arising from them.
But inns are not the only places where damp beds are to be met with. Beds kept in private families for the reception of strangers are often equally dangerous. All kinds of linen and bedding, when not frequently used, become damp. How then is it possible that beds, which are not slept in above two or three times a year, should be safe? Nothing is more common than to hear people complain of having caught cold by changing their bed. The reason is obvious: were they careful never to sleep in a bed but what was frequently used, they would seldom find any ill consequences from a change.
Nothing is more to be dreaded by a delicate person when on a visit, than being laid in a bed which is kept on purpose for strangers. That ill-judged piece of complaisance becomes a real injury. All the bad consequences from this quarter might easily be prevented in private families, by causing their servants to sleep in the spare beds, and resign them to strangers when they come. In inns where the beds are used almost every night, nothing else is necessary than to keep the rooms well seasoned by frequent fires, and the linen dry.
That baneful custom said to be practised in many inns, of damping sheets, and pressing them in order to save washing, and afterwards laying them on the beds, ought, when discovered; to be punished with the utmost severity. It is really a species of murder, and will often prove as fatal as poison or gunshot. Indeed no linen, especially if it has been washed in winter, ought to be used till it has been exposed for some time to the fire; nor is this operation less necessary for linen washed in summer, provided it has lain by for any length of time. This caution is the more needful, as gentlemen are often exceedingly attentive to what they eat or drink at an inn, yet pay no regard to a circumstance of much more importance[55].
Damp houses frequently produce the like ill consequences; for this reason those who build should be careful to chuse a dry situation. A house which stands on a damp marshy soil or deep clay, will never be thoroughly dry. All houses, unless where the ground is exceeding dry, should have the first door a little raised. Servants and others, who are obliged to live in cellars and sunk stories, seldom continue long in health: masters ought surely to pay some regard to the health of their servants, as well as to their own.
Nothing is more common than for people, merely to avoid some trifling inconveniency, to hazard their lives, by inhabiting a house almost as soon as the masons, plasterers, &c. have done with it: such houses are not only dangerous from their dampness, but likewise from the smell of lime, paint, &c. The asthmas, consumptions, and other diseases of the lungs, so incident to people who work in these articles, are sufficient proofs of their being unwholesome.
Rooms are often rendered damp by an unseasonable piece of cleanliness; I mean the pernicious custom of washing them immediately before company is put into them. Most people catch cold, if they sit but a very short time in a room that has been lately washed; the delicate ought carefully to avoid such a situation, and even the robust are not always proof against its influence[56].
The perspiration is commonly obstructed by SUDDEN TRANSITIONS from heat to cold. Colds are seldom caught, unless when people have been too much heated. Heat rarifies the blood, quickens the circulation, and increases the perspiration; but when these are suddenly checked, the consequences must be bad. It is indeed impossible for labourers not to be too hot upon some occasions; but it is generally in their power to let themselves cool gradually, to put on their clothes when they leave off work, to make choice of a dry place to rest themselves in, and to avoid sleeping in the open fields. These easy rules, if observed, would often prevent fevers and other fatal disorders.
It is very common for people, when hot, to drink freely of cold water, or small liquors. This conduct is extremely dangerous. Thirst indeed is hard to bear, and the inclination to gratify that appetite frequently gets the better of reason, and makes us do what our judgment disapproves. Every peasant, however, knows, if his horse be permitted to drink his bellyful of cold water after violent exercise, and be immediately put into the stable, or suffered to remain at rest, that it will kill him. This they take the utmost care to prevent. It were well if they were equally attentive to their own safety.
Thirst may be quenched many ways without swallowing large quantities of cold liquor. The fields afford variety of acid fruits and plants, the very chewing of which would abate thirst. Water kept in the mouth for some time, and spit out again, if frequently repeated, will have the same effect. If a bit of bread be eaten along with a few mouthfuls of water, it will both quench thirst more effectually, and make the danger less. When a person is extremely hot, a mouthful of brandy, or other spirits, if it can be obtained, ought to be preferred to any thing else. But if any one has been so foolish, when hot, as to drink freely of cold liquor, he ought to continue his exercise at least till what he drank be thoroughly warmed upon his stomach.
It would be tedious to enumerate all the bad effects which flow from drinking cold liquors when the body is hot. Sometimes this has occasioned immediate death. Hoarseness, quinseys, and fevers of various kinds, are its common consequences. Neither is it safe when warm to eat freely of raw fruits, sallads, or the like. These indeed have not so sudden an effect on the body as cold liquors, but they are notwithstanding dangerous, and ought to be avoided.
Sitting in a warm room, and drinking hot liquors till the pores are quite open, and immediately going into the cold air, is extremely dangerous. Colds, coughs, and inflammations of the breast, are the usual effects of this conduct: yet nothing is more common than for people, after they have drank warm liquors for several hours, to walk or ride a number of miles in the coldest night, or to ramble about in the streets[57].
People are very apt, when a room is hot, to throw open a window, and to sit near it. This is a most dangerous practice. Any person had better sit without doors than in such a situation, as the current of air is directed against one particular part of the body. Inflammatory fevers and consumptions have often been occasioned by sitting or standing thinly clothed near an open window. Nor is sleeping with open windows less to be dreaded. That ought never to be done, even in the hottest season, unless the window is at a distance. I have known mechanics frequently contract fatal diseases, by working stript at an open window, and would advise all of them to beware of such a practice.
Few things expose people more to catch cold than keeping their own houses too warm; such persons may be said to live in a sort of hot-houses; they can hardly stir abroad to visit a neighbour, but at the hazard of their lives. Were there no other reason for keeping houses moderately cool, that alone is sufficient: but no house that is too hot can be wholesome; heat destroys the spring and elasticity of the air, and renders it less fit for expanding the lungs, and the other purposes of respiration. Hence it is, that consumptions and other diseases of the lungs prove so fatal to people who work in forges, glasshouses, and the like.
Some are even so fool-hardy, as to plunge themselves when hot in cold water. Not only fevers, but madness itself, has frequently been the effect of this conduct. Indeed it looks too like the action of a madman to deserve a serious consideration.
The result of all these observations is, that every one ought to avoid, with the utmost attention, all sudden transitions from heat to cold, and to keep the body in as uniform a temperature as possible; or, where that cannot be done, to take care to let it cool gradually.
People may imagine that too strict an attention to these things would tend to render them delicate. So far however is this from being my design, that the very first rule proposed for preventing colds, is to harden the body, by enuring it daily to the open air.
I shall put an end to what relates to this part of my subject, by giving an abstract of the justly celebrated advice of Celsus, with respect to the preservation of health. “A man,” says he, “who is blessed with good health, should confine himself to no particular rules, either with respect to regimen or medicine. He ought frequently to diversify his manner of living; to be sometimes in town, sometimes in the country; to hunt, sail, indulge himself in rest, but more frequently to use exercise. He ought to refuse no kind of food that is commonly used, but sometimes to eat more and sometimes less; sometimes to make one at an entertainment, and sometimes to forbear it; to make rather two meals a-day than one, and always to eat heartily, provided he can digest it. He ought neither too eagerly to pursue, nor too scrupulously to avoid, intercourse with the fair sex: pleasures of this kind, rarely indulged, render the body alert and active; but, when too frequently repeated, weak and languid. He should be careful in time of health not to destroy, by excesses of any kind, that vigour of constitution which should support him under sickness.”