Minnesota; Its Character and Climate
by
Ledyard Bill

Part 2 out of 3



other localities, since the atmosphere is not as humid. The evaporation
under this heat of summer rises out of the immediate region of the
surface, and is borne away on the prevailing winds to the lake district
and eastward. It is unfortunate that there have been no tests of a
hygrometic character maintained through any great period, whereby
reliable data could be adduced, since it would have seemed as easy for
the government to have undertaken that branch of meteorology as any
other, it only requiring a more careful and accurate hand than do the
other observations. The delicacy of these experiments have proved too
wearisome for private parties, and there is over the whole country a
lack of this scientific evidence. The last report of one of the cabinet
ministers at Washington calls attention to the need, and benefit
arising from reliable testimony, under this head, and asks an
appropriation, which it is hoped may be granted, in the interests of
both health, agriculture, and science generally.

The question of climatic treatment and cure for certain ills is
receiving yearly increased attention, and this will continue until a
specific climate is found for many of the most destructive diseases
afflicting the race.

FOOTNOTES:

[C] The various tables are chiefly from Blodgett's _Climatology_, to
which we are otherwise much indebted.




CHAPTER VII.

CONSUMPTION.

Consumption mapped out.--The east winds.--Comparative
statistics.--Number of original cases of consumption in
Minnesota.--Consumption can be cured.--Rev. Jeremiah Day.--Fresh air the
best medicine.--The benefit of a dry atmosphere.--Equability of
temperature.--The power of the mind over disease.--Kinds of
consumption.--Danger in delays.


To all who are afflicted or threatened with pulmonic troubles the
climate of Minnesota becomes, in view of its reputed freedom from this
scourge, an interesting subject of inquiry.

For a long time it was maintained that this disease was not affected by
climate, but that it was the child of other causes, and that its cure
was impossible; and dread of its visitation became as great as at the
approach of any of the great maladies afflicting mankind.

Later and wiser investigation has proved it to be so much controlled by
climate that it may be practically located on a chart of the globe, if
all the climatic conditions are fully known. Of course, it is not
absolutely confined to any given limit, more than is the yellow fever,
which sometimes makes its appearance as high as the forty-second degree
of latitude, while its actual home, so to speak, is, on this continent,
below the thirty-fifth parallel.

In a medical chart of this country, which we had occasion to examine
many years since, the district where consumption attained its maximum
range was outlined along the coast, beginning with the State of Maine,
having a semi-circular sweep to Fortress Monroe in Virginia, with an
inland limit varying from one to two hundred miles. This is well known,
now, to all the medical profession, to be the territory where _phthisis
pulmonalis_ has greatest sweep, and this is conceded to be, for the most
part, caused by the marked peculiarities of climate existing over all
this area. These peculiarities have, in some of the immediately
preceding chapters, been duly though briefly set forth, and we now
proceed to the consideration of the sanitary value of the Minnesota air
and its effects on lung diseases as experienced by sufferers and
observed by others, together with some of its leading characteristics.

If it has been sufficiently shown that the temperature of the district
in which consumption prevails most is a highly variable one, passing
almost daily from a low to a high point in the thermometric scale, with
the prevailing winds to be those in which east largely enters; and that
these winds come laden with a cold moisture, borne from off the surface
of the North Atlantic, which, when exposed to their sweep, chill the
person and pave the way to colds, catarrhs, rheumatism, pneumonia, and a
score of other ills scarcely less harassing and destructive, and all of
which give rise to the "great destroyer," as it has been sometimes
called. If, as we have said, these points have been proved to be the
leading ear-marks of this special locality, what, we may ask, are the
characteristics, briefly stated, of the climate of the State, which is
known to be comparatively free from, and, in very many instances, to
have wrought for the sufferer a complete restoration of health and
strength? They have been seen to be almost the exact antipodes of that
of the consumptive district before named. Instead of the northeast wind,
there is the northwest, or at least the prevailing winds from some point
into which _west_ enters; bringing, in place of the cold, humid
atmosphere of the North Atlantic, the dry continental winds from the
interior, which, in conjunction with the high altitude and peculiar
geographical position of the State, give, instead of the extreme
variable temperature, an equable and a relatively dry atmosphere, having
a bracing, tonic effect on the whole man, affording opportunity for
unrestrained exercise in the open air, causing good digestion to wait on
appetite, and with these the advent of fresh wholesome blood, which is
_the_ physician to heal the diseased portions of the lungs, and restore
healthful action to all of the inflamed parts.

In confirmation of the high value of this State as a residence for
invalids of the class to which special reference is made, we extract
from the last census report the following statistics, showing the
average number of deaths from consumption in the following States to be

One in 254 in Massachusetts,
One in 473 in New York,
One in 757 in Virginia,
One in 1139 in Minnesota.

This speaks for the climate more of praise than it is possible for any
scientific speculation to do, since it is the practical and final test
as well as the most satisfactory.

Undoubtedly, the relative disproportion would be very much greater if
the number of deaths of those who go from other States, after it is too
late for them to receive any benefit, could be eliminated from the
actual number that die from among the inhabitants themselves. The
question may arise right here among some of the more skeptical, how it
is that any of the population are afflicted with this disease, if the
climate is such an enemy to it? We answer--that full half of the deaths
reported from phthisis are of those who come too late--as before
stated--and a fourth of the whole number we know to be from among those
who are not natives, but yet are of the _regular_ inhabitants, whose
lives have been prolonged here, and who from improper exposure or
neglect of wholesome rules (which they at first rigidly followed, but
growing better, neglected to maintain), have paid the penalty. Not over
one-third of the entire list of inhabitants of the State, up to the
present time, are natives; hence deaths from consumption among the
remaining two-thirds cannot be attributed, by any fair inference, to the
direct influence of the climate. This still leaves a fourth of the whole
number of deaths from this scourge to fall on those who "are to the
manner born." This is a very trifling percentage, and might be waived as
not being a fraction sufficiently important to merit much attention; but
we may frankly admit that these cases appear here, and are the result of
a want of a _perfect_ equability in the climate, and to this extent it
must be held answerable. We might, however, conclude that even this
final fraction could be accounted for in the hereditary taint, but we
forbear, as we likewise do to claim entire exemption here from this
complaint. No climate, perhaps, in any portion of the whole habitable
earth, could be found to be utterly exempt. Then, too, consumption is to
general debility a natural sequence, almost as much as flame is to
powder when exploded; and as there are likely in all climates, however
favorable, to be found worn-out and exhausted humanity, why, there must
be expected untimely deaths culminating in this disease.

The curability of consumption is now a settled question. Every medical
student has either seen for himself or been assured by his professor
that post mortem examinations have disclosed this truth beyond all
cavil. Numerous cases might be cited where, at an early period in life,
tubercles had formed, and by-and-by, probably in consequence of a change
in the habits of life, these disappeared, leaving naught but old
cicatrices as evidence of their previous diseased condition. These
tubercular deposits must have disposed of themselves in one of three
ways: _first_, they might soften down and be expectorated; _second_,
they might soften and be absorbed; or, _thirdly_, they might become
calcined and remain as inert foreign material. In many cases all these
processes might unite in the removal, and a long life follow, as is well
known in some instances to be true.

An eminent instance in point occurs to us as we write, and which is
worthy of citation in these pages. The lamented Rev. Jeremiah Day, once
President of Yale College, when a young man, had "consumption," and was
expected to die, but by a rigid observance of the laws of health, and
self-imposition of stated exercise of a vigorous nature in the open air,
he, by these means and without much of travel, restored his debilitated
frame and healed the diseased lungs, and died at the rare age of
ninety-five, having lived a life of uncommon usefulness and activity. He
could not have accomplished his restoration without many and daily
sacrifices compared with the lot of his fellow-men. A post mortem showed
plainly that both apices of the lungs had been diseased.

There are many cases, of which no knowledge exists outside of a small
circle, of restored health, though with impaired power of respiration
and consequent endurance of great hardships, which latter, of course,
must be entirely avoided by those thus situated. There is, too, even
greater liability to a fresh attack than with persons who have never
been afflicted, but the vigilance necessary to maintain health fortifies
against its repetition.

One of the essentials in effecting a cure is FRESH AIR; and if this can
be had in such form as to give more of oxygen--the vital element--than
is usually found, the healing processes must be accelerated, beyond
doubt. The family physician will tell you this. Now, under what
circumstances is a larger amount of oxygen found? What climate affords
most, all other things being equal? It certainly is not a _hot_ climate,
nor a variable moist one such as prevails all over the consumptive
district which we have indicated at the beginning of this chapter. It is
found in a cool, dry climate, and this condition is had in Minnesota
with greater correlative advantages than in any other section of the
Union known up to this time. The atmosphere is composed of two gases,
oxygen and nitrogen, and in every one hundred parts of common air there
are about seventy-five parts of nitrogen and twenty-five of oxygen,
subject to expansion from heat and of contraction from cold. This
accounts in part for the general lassitude felt in a warm atmosphere,
while a corresponding degree of vigor obtains in a cold one. The
condensation, the result of a cool temperature, gives to the lungs a
much larger amount of oxygen at a single inspiration, and, of course,
for the day the difference is truly wonderful. The blood is borne by
each pulsation of the heart to the air-cells of the lungs for
vitalization by means of the oxygen inhaled--the only portion of the air
used by the lungs--giving it a constantly renewing power to energize the
whole man. If a cold climate is attended with great humidity, or raw,
chilling winds, the object is defeated and the diseased member
aggravated, as would also be the case even if the climate was not a
cold, raw one, but was a _variable_ cold one; as then the sudden changes
would induce colds, pneumonia, and all the train of ills which terminate
in this dire calamity we are so anxious to avoid.

_Equability_ and _dryness_ are the essentials of a climate in which
consumptives are to receive new or lengthened leases of life.

The following testimony is of such a high value that no apology need be
offered for its introduction here. It is, in the first case, from one
who was sick but is now well, and, in the other, from a party whose
observation and character give weight to opinions.

The able and celebrated divine, the Rev. Horace Bushnell, D.D., of
Hartford, Conn., in a letter to the _Independent_, says:--

"I went to Minnesota early in July, and remained there till the latter
part of the May following. I had spent a winter in Cuba without benefit.
I had spent also nearly a year in California, making a gain in the dry
season and a partial loss in the wet season; returning, however,
sufficiently improved to resume my labors. Breaking down again from this
only partial recovery, I made the experiment now of Minnesota; and
submitting myself, on returning, to a very rigid examination by a
physician who did not know at all what verdict had been passed by other
physicians before, he said, in accordance with their opinions, 'You have
had a difficulty in your right lung, but it is healed.' I had suspected
from my symptoms that it might be so, and the fact appears to be
confirmed by the further fact, that I have been slowly, though
regularly, gaining all summer.

"This improvement, or partial recovery, I attribute to the climate of
Minnesota. But not to this alone, other things have concurred.

"First, I had a naturally firm, enduring constitution, which had only
given way under excessive burdens of labor, and had no vestige of
hereditary disease upon it.

"Secondly, I had all my burdens thrown off, and a state of complete,
uncaring rest.

"Thirdly, I was in such vigor as to be out in the open air, on horseback
and otherwise, a good part of the time. It does not follow, by any
means, that one who is dying of hereditary consumption, or one who is
too far gone to have any powers of endurance, or spring of recuperative
energy left, will be recovered in the same way. A great many go there to
die, and some to be partially recovered and then die; for I knew two
young men, so far recovered as to think themselves well, or nearly so,
who by over-violent exertion brought on a recurrence of bleeding, and
died. * * * The general opinion seemed to be that the result was
attributable, in part, to the over tonic property of the atmosphere. And
I have known of very many remarkable cases of recovery there which had
seemed to be hopeless. One, of a gentleman who was carried there on a
litter, and became a hearty, robust man. Another, who told me that he
coughed up bits of his lungs of the size of a walnut, was there seven or
eight months after, a perfectly sound-looking, well-set man, with no
cough at all. I fell in with somebody every few days who had come there
and been restored; and with multitudes of others, whose disease had been
arrested so as to allow the prosecution of business, and whose lease of
life, as they had no doubt, was much lengthened by their migration to
that region of the country. Of course it will be understood that a great
many are sadly disappointed in going thither. * * *

"The peculiar benefit of the climate appears to be its dryness. There is
much rain in the summer months, as elsewhere, but it comes more
generally in the night, and the days that follow brighten out in a
fresh, tonic brilliancy, as dry, almost, as before. The winter climate
is intensely cold, and yet so dry and clear and still, for the most
part, as to create no very great degree of suffering. One who is
properly dressed, finds the climate much more agreeable than the
amphibious, half-fluid, half-solid, sloppy, gravelike chill of the East.
The snows are light--a kind of snow-dew, that makes about an inch, or
sometimes three, in a night. Real snowstorms are rare; there was none
the winter I spent there. A little more snow, to make better sleighing,
would have been an improvement. As to rain in winter it is almost
unknown. There was not a drop of it the season I was there, from the
latter part of October to the middle, or about the middle, of March,
except a slight drizzle on Thanksgiving Day. And there was not melting
snow enough, for more than eight or ten days, to wet a deerskin
moccasin, which many of the gentlemen wear all winter."

The Rev. H.A. Boardman, D.D., of Philadelphia, writes under date of
October, 1868, to a public journal, the following: "* * * The question
is often asked, 'how far is St. Paul to be recommended as a resort for
invalids?' If one may judge from indications on the spot, invalids
themselves have settled this question. I have never visited a town
where one encounters so many persons that bear the impress of delicate
health, present or past. In the stores and shops, in the street and by
the fireside, it is an every-day experience to meet with residents who
came to Minnesota, one, two, five, or ten years ago, for their health,
and having regained, decided to remain. I have talked with some who,
having recovered, went away twice over, and then made up their minds
that to live at all they must live here. * * * * *"

The statements of these observing and reflecting men are of the first
importance, and require no scientific deductions to prove the benefit
certain classes of consumptives may receive by a residence in Minnesota;
but if it is found that whatever of data in meteorology there is bearing
on the climate of this State, confirms the universal public judgment,
this then becomes a matter of most agreeable interest.

It seems that the _dryness_ and _equability_ are the important
features, as before observed. A gentleman, given somewhat to
investigation, made the statement to us, while in St. Paul, that he had
carefully watched the ice-pitcher on his table during the summers, and
that it was rare that any moisture accumulated upon the outside of the
same, as is commonly the case elsewhere. This is itself a most
interesting scientific fact, and completely demonstrates the great
dryness of the atmosphere during even the wet season of the year, as we
have found the rain-fall in summer to be about two-thirds of the whole
annual precipitation. Physicians have not generally thought that the
_summer_ atmosphere of this State was any improvement upon that of other
localities of like altitude, judging from the rain-fall, which, being up
to the average of this latitude elsewhere, left as much of moisture,
they have concluded, floating near the surface as at other points, and
they are led to send patients into less dry districts, or even, as is
sometimes the case, to the sea-shore. Graver mistakes could not well
occur than these, and it is to be ascribed to the little definite
knowledge we as a people have on medico-meteorology. Except for
debilitated constitutions, which, it is true, precede many cases of
consumption, the sea-shore is to be avoided, especially in every
instance of diseased lungs. Doubtless, the habit of advising a trip to
the sea-side for the relief and cure of whooping-cough in children has
led in great part to this error. The trip to the mountains, if a
location is well selected, is likely to be, and usually is, in summer a
real benefit. But then, the physician should know something of the
reputation of the particular locality to which he sends his patient. To
illustrate:--suppose a patient afflicted with phthisis is sent to the
White Mountains, and in company or alone, he reaches that region, and we
will assume that he settles down at the "Profile House," or at any
portion of the hills on their eastern slope, or immediate vicinity, and
the result is almost certain to be unfavorable, since constant showers
and violent changes of temperature are transpiring throughout the entire
summer. If, however, a moderate elevation, away from the immediate
influence of the mountains, out of the range of the frequent showers,
with a southwest exposure of landscape, where the cool westerly winds
have play, decided advantage will come to the sufferer. It would not
likely be at once perceptible, but a gradual toning up of the system
might be looked for, with an improvement of the general health. Indeed,
any change to either the sick or overworked, for that matter, who are
able to withstand the fatigue of a journey, is of benefit, even if the
climate and location are not improved, as it is well known that a change
of scene is a relief and recreation to the mind, which often plays an
important part in the recovery of invalids. We all remember the story
of the prisoner who had been condemned to suffer death, and at the
appointed hour was led blindfolded to the dissecting hall, where were
assembled the physicians who were to conduct the experiment. Being duly
disrobed and placed, he was informed that an artery was to be opened,
and left to bleed till life expired. An incision in the flesh at the
back of the neck was made, as a mere feint, and warm water allowed at
the same moment to trickle slowly down his shoulder and back, when, in a
brief time, spasms set in, and death ultimately followed.

This gives a clear view of the will power inhering in the mental man,
and its wonderful influence on the body. Sudden news of misfortune, or
great attacks of fear, have produced instant prostration and bodily
suffering, and these cases occur so frequent that all within the range
of an ordinary life are familiar with them.

An English author speaks of the potent power of the mind over the body,
and declares that the act of coughing can be, very often, wholly
restrained by mere force of will. This should not be lost sight of by
any who are attacked with colds or bronchial troubles, or even in the
incipient stages of lung difficulties; as thereby they may lessen the
inflammation, and defer the progress of the disease. We have seen
people, who, having some slight irritation in the larynx, have, instead
of smothering the reflex action, vigorously scraped their throats, and
coughed with a persistence entirely unwise, inducing inflammation, from
which they might date, perhaps, their subsequent bronchial troubles. It
is not in coughs alone that the will exerts a mastery. In a case of
fever, by which an elder brother was brought very low, scarce expected
by either his friends or physician to survive, a neighbor calling, was
allowed to enter the sick-room. The patient was too ill to take much
notice of the visitor, and the visitor likely felt that what he might
say would not effect the result, and, being rough in manners and coarse
of speech, bawled out, in a loud tone, that "he wouldn't give much for
his (the patient's) chances," and stalked out of the room. Happening to
be present, and fearing the effect of this ill-bred visitor's remark, we
drew near the bedside to hear the prostrate invalid whisper out that he
was determined to live, if only to spite the old fellow. His recovery
seemed to date from that event, and in a few weeks he was in possession
of good health.

Consumption is divided into several classes; the more common forms are
the inflammatory, the hereditary, the dyspeptic, and the catarrhal.
There are others, but these suffice for purposes of brief mention of the
leading characteristics of all cases.

The inflammatory is often the more difficult of management than that of
the others, as its attack is violent and prostrating to such a degree as
to render the usual aids of exercise and diet out of the question, for
the most part. Long journeys, for any purpose, are to be avoided, though
removals from the immediate sea-coast, to some dry, sandy section in the
interior, within a hundred miles or so, is advisable. The robust and
strong are equally subject to this class of consumption. Contracting a
violent cold, such as might be taken when in a state of excitement and
great perspiration in a ball-room or at a fire, and without sufficient
protection pass out into the chilling air, inflammation of the lungs
immediately takes place, and the chances are great of either a fatal
termination of life or a shattered constitution.

The hereditary class are more frequent, and, by proper treatment of
themselves, many may attain to a comparatively long life, and be able to
do much of valuable service, if their employment takes them out in the
open air. Of course many, inheriting this disease and having enfeebled
constitutions, cannot be saved, let what will be done, and it is
probably a wise provision that they are not. Consumptives should be
careful to remember their great responsibility in forming alliances
whereby this terrible evil is perpetuated. There should be some law
enacted prohibiting the marriage of confirmed cases of scrofula,
consumption, and insanity, even though complete recovery be had, as
frequently happens in these difficulties.

The dyspeptic cases are numerous, and arise usually from general
debility, caused by insufficient or unwholesome diet, close apartments,
a too sedentary life, long depression of spirits, coupled with, perhaps,
uncleanliness and irregularities, all contributing to this result. These
can all be relieved, and many fully restored, if taken in season, by a
counter course of living.

The catarrhal forms of consumption are more difficult to treat, and, in
numberless instances, baffle all medical skill, and that is very
trifling, which can be applied directly to the seat of trouble. Repeated
"colds in the head," taken and neglected, become by-and-by confirmed,
and pass from the rank of common colds to that of chronic catarrh.
Indeed, catarrh is no more or less than a chronic cold in the head; but
after the lapse of time, and this may vary in different persons, from
one to a score or more of years, it assumes a more virulent character,
involving, perhaps, the whole of the breathing apparatus. Its
encroachments are insidious, and often are lightly considered, but the
general tendency of all cases of catarrhal affections is to the lungs.
Sometimes this approach is by a sudden leap, in consequence, probably,
of a fresh stock of "cold," from the mucous membranes of the nasal
organs to the lungs, and we have in such cases known one of the most
eminent physicians of the country to declare, when examinations were
made at this juncture, that "catarrh had nothing to do with it." This
but illustrates the fallibility of men, and we should never be surprised
when confronted with any fresh testimony tending to confirm this truth.

The dry catarrh, while more aggravating, is less fatal, and life is more
secure, and not as offensive either to friends or themselves, while
other classes of this disease are offensive and more malignant. It is
very obstinate, and yields to no treatment of a specific kind that we
know of. The same general course should be pursued, however, as with
dyspeptic consumptives. The entire medical fraternity are at their
absolute wits' ends, so far as any specific is concerned, for this
almost universal disease. We say universal, since it is within our
knowledge to be largely true, though, while in a mild form, little heed
is given it, and generally the party would deny its presence, even while
more than half conscious that it might exist. In addition to a generous
diet, fresh air, and other matters, of which we shall speak more in
detail as we proceed, a nasal _douche_ before retiring, of tepid water,
with salt enough added to make a weak brine, as half a teaspoonful to a
tumbler, will be in most instances of some benefit. Inhalation and nasal
baths must be the specific means of reaching and alleviating this
disease.

Thousands annually die of consumption springing out of this malady.
Time, it would seem, must discover to the race some more efficient
remedy than is now known.

Cold, humid, and variable climates give rise to and feed this disease,
and a change to an equable, warm, or a cool and dry temperature, is
essential.

Where heart disease is complicated with consumption, a warm, dry climate
is best; and in some cases, too, as where bronchitis exists in great
disproportion to the amount of tubercular deposit and inflammation of
the lungs, the climate of Florida during the winter would be more bland
and agreeable than that of Minnesota, but each individual varies so much
in constitutional character, that no positive rule can be laid down by
which any one case can be judged. This comes within the province of the
family physician.

We cannot too strongly urge upon the medical faculty, as well as the
friends of the afflicted of whom we have written, that delays are
dangerous. Early action on the first manifestations of lung troubles and
tendencies is necessary if lives are to be saved. It is hard to turn
from the beaten path and enter new, even when larger health is hoped for
and needed, yet that should be resolutely done, though it were far
better the confining and unhealthful course had not been originally
entered upon.




CHAPTER VIII.

CAUSES OF CONSUMPTION.

Prevention better than cure.--Local causes of disease.--Our school
system objectionable.--Dr. Bowditch's opinion.--Location of our
homes important.--Damp soils prolific of lung troubles.--Bad
ventilation.--Value of sunshine.--City girls and city life.--Fashionable
society.--Tight lacing fatal to sound health.--Modern living.--The iron
hand of fashion.


The proverb that "an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure," has
been almost totally ignored in its relation to the laws which govern
health. It seems quite as essential, however, to examine into the cause
of disease as it is to seek for remedies which, in many instances, can
work but a temporary cure, so long as the cause is overlooked. One is
but the sequence of the other; and, to remove the malady, or prevent its
recurrence, they have but to remove the cause. This is freely admitted
to be the right principle, yet, is it always the course pursued? Do not
people mislead themselves much, and, instead of going to the root of
difficulty, remain content with what must prove but a temporary
restoration?

How often, for example, does the physician, when called to the patient
suffering from a cold, inquire to see the shoes or boots of the invalid?
Never; the thing is unheard of. Their questions in the direction of
causes would not reach half way to the real goal which should be made
the point of investigation. Not that the insufficient shoes or boots are
going to have any part in the restoration of the invalid; but it may be
shown, on examination, that they were the real cause of trouble, and, by
a change, prevent in the future a similar attack, from that source at
least. The same is true of half the diseases afflicting mankind; their
prevention may be assured, to a great extent, by attention to the
dictates of hygienic laws, which are no more or less than the laws of
moderation and common sense, and not, as many suppose, the law of
obligation to eat stale bread, or "cold huckleberry-pudding," all the
balance of their lives, though this diet might be beneficial if
ghost-seeing and spirit-rapping was determined upon.

Very many cases of fevers can be directly traced to some local cause,
which should receive as much attention from the physician as does the
patient, and either the one or the other promptly removed. Indeed,
people must learn for themselves to investigate the laws regulating
health, and thus be able, without the aid of any professional, to decide
intelligently all of the more obvious questions.

It does, in this connection, seem that there is great want of judgment
on the part of those having the direction of our public schools, in that
there is so trifling attention given both the study and observance of
the laws which control our existence. What is education without a sound
body? what is life to the creature of broken health? and what is there
which is more valuable and priceless to us? The answer is plain to all,
and yet the whole advancing generation of boys and girls, beyond a mere
inkling in physiology, a possible recollection of the number of bones in
the human frame, and that common air is composed of two principal gases,
they know of hygienic law practically nothing. Worthy pupils of
incompetent pedagogues, who, not being required by the public to
properly inform themselves with a full knowledge of these important
studies, are perhaps in some measure excused for their shortcomings.
Instead of the inculcation of these useful and more vital lessons of
life, they are required to fritter away time and health over a French
grammar, or other equally foolish study, which cannot, in a vast
majority of cases, be of the least service to them. They had much better
be at home making mud-pies (which, by the way, are about the only ones
that ever ought to be made), or learning to bake wholesome bread, or
even chasing butterflies in summer through the green fields, or braving
the cold of winter by joining in some of the healthful out-of-door
sports. It would, perhaps, be proper enough for such as proposed to fit
themselves for teachers, or who expected to spend their lives abroad, or
who, from pure love of a scholastic life,--with the means to follow
their inclinations, and necessary leisure at command,--thought to devote
theirs to its fullest enjoyment and bent. These form the exceptions; but
for all to essay the task, regardless of natural inclination and of the
true relation which life bears to their individual cases, is simply
absurd, and can only be accounted for in this wise, that _fashion_ seems
to demand it, as it does many other outrageous requirements, to some of
which, as they concern health, we shall have occasion to refer as we
proceed. Life is too short, at longest, and is filled with too practical
requirements, for the most of mankind to try to master or even
familiarize themselves with all the sciences of which the world has
knowledge. Even the Humboldts of the race, favored with long life, good
health, and devotedness, declare they have attained to but little more
than the alphabet of knowledge, and they--few in number--have
experienced few of those restrictions which hedge about the lives of
most people. All cannot be great linguists any more than all can be
great inventors, and it were just as valuable and reasonable an
expenditure of time to teach a child to be one as the other. Of what
benefit is a smattering of foreign language, except to make people
ridiculous? and that class is already sufficiently large; far better
that they learned to speak and spell their mother tongue with a
commendable degree of accuracy, or that they learn to train future
families in consonance with the laws of nature, and save to health the
time spent in poorly-ventilated rooms, where, under the pressure of the
modern school system, everything valuable and practical seems sacrificed
to the ephemeral and non-essential. We do not underrate the good our
schools accomplish, not at all; on the other hand, we feel a just pride
in the liberality of the country, and realize that in them lies the only
security for a Republican form of government, and, indeed, our opinions
go further in this direction than that of most persons, for we would
make it obligatory on the part of parents to school their children to a
certain degree, and that no one should be eligible to vote who could not
read and write in the common language of the country.

It is the administration of the school system which we deprecate. Hear
what the famous Dr. Bowditch of Boston says upon this question,
namely:--"* * * Not only does our school system, in its practical
operation, entirely ignore the necessity for physical culture, but it at
times goes farther, and actually, as we believe, becomes the slayer of
our people. * * * We appeal to every physician of ten or twenty years'
practice, and feel sure that in reviewing his cases of consumption he
will find not a few of them in which he will trace to _overwork_ in our
schools the first springs of the malady.

"The result of all this school _training_ is as certain as the day.
Every child who goes through these modern processes must inevitably
suffer, but not all alike. Some have one complaint, some another, and
some, doubtless, finally escape unharmed. At times they only grow pale
and thin under the process. But not a few go through to the exhibition,
and, after working harder than ever for the two or three last weeks of
the term, they gain the much-coveted prize only to break wholly down
when it is taken. The stimulus of desire for success is gone. That has
sustained them up to the last moment. Success having been accomplished,
the victim finds, too late, that what he has been striving for is
nothing, now that it is won, compared with the vitality lost and the
seeds of disease sown."

It is true that there are a very few schools in the country where
physical culture receives, in connection with other duties, its due
share of attention. We know, personally, of but one--the Howland Ladies'
Seminary, at Union Springs, New York, and we understand, on the
authority quoted above, that the Latin and High Schools of Boston are of
this class. Our colleges, however, as a rule, seem as bad as the
schools. Half the students who complete their course come out broken in
health, and those who do not are about the toughest "horned cattle," as
Horace Greeley says, that can be found.

Another important item involving the economy of life is the


LOCATION OF OUR HOMES,

which has received little or no consideration, judging from what one may
observe who chooses to look about them. Circumstances entirely beyond
the control of most people conspire to locate for them their places of
abode, and when originally selected no regard was paid to sanitary laws,
and the result many times has been the forfeiture of precious lives as a
penalty.

Not till a very recent period has the character of the soil figured to
so great an extent as is now conceded. It has been proved by statistics,
both in New England and the mother country, that a heavy, wet soil is
prolific of colds and consumption; while, on a warm, dry soil the latter
disease is little found. If we stop to consider what has been written in
the previous chapters on climate, and that it was stated that a cold,
humid atmosphere, from whatever cause, coupled with variable
temperature, was the chief occasion of consumption, we can the more
easily understand why a wet soil would tend to produce this disease.
Whether the dampness arises from excessive shade, or is inherent in the
soil, which may be so situated as to receive the drainage water of more
elevated surfaces contiguous, is not material, so that it is the
prevailing condition, thereby constantly exhaling cold vapors, which sow
the seeds of death in many an unsuspecting household.

We cannot urge the importance of a right location better than to again
quote from Dr. Bowditch what he once wrote with regard to the residence
of two brothers whose healths were equally good, as was that of their
wives, but one chose a home upon a dry, sandy soil, while the other
settled upon a wet, cold plain--not remote from each other. "Large
families were born under both roofs. Not one of the children born in the
latter homestead escaped, whereas the other family remained healthy; and
when, at the suggestion of a medical friend, who knew all the facts, * *
* we visited the place for the purpose of thoroughly investigating them.
* * * These two houses had nothing about them peculiarly noticeable by
the passing stranger. They were situated in the same township, and
within a very short distance one from the other, and yet scarcely any
one in the village with whom we spoke on the subject agreed with us in
our opinion that it was location alone, or chiefly that, which gave life
or death to the inmates of the two homes."

We suppose thousands must continue to pay the penalty of the faulty
locations of those who first built, since it is difficult to persuade
many to sever the ties which bind them to their early homes, even
though they are unhealthful, to say nothing of the expense to be
incurred in making a change, yet those who have homesteads to establish
encounter none of these drawbacks, and should exercise great care in
making selection of a site for their dwellings.

A dry soil is indispensable to good health, and if it cannot be found as
dry as wished for, it may be remedied by thorough underdraining. A sandy
soil, the poorest or dryest on the farm or lot, is the best point to
erect a healthful home.

The habit of embowering the house with a dense growth of shrubs and
trees, even where the soil is naturally dry, defeats the desired end,
and provokes disease. There are many places made so cosy and attractive
with these aids that, with persons of culture and taste, the tendency is
to run into extremes, and, while they render their homes beautiful to
the eye, they are fatal to life. A few shade-trees and shrubs properly
distributed about the ground can be indulged, and in numbers quite
adequate to give an air of grace and beauty to the home, while not
endangering its inmates. They should stand at proper distances from the
sides and roof, or not to constantly shadow them through the whole
summer, but allow, instead, the caressing sunshine to have full, free
play over them. Again, we have often entered dwellings where it seemed
to be the study of the good, ambitious housewife to shut out all the
light, and shut in--of course, unconsciously--all the death which comes
of dampness and dark, only so that her carpets are kept bright and
shining for some--gossip's tongue.

Sunlight has come to be, of late years, one of the great remedies, and
sun-baths are now duly administered in establishments erected for that
purpose, and there can be no doubt of their efficacy in giving health
and strength to all whose habits of life prevent their exercise in the
open air.

Next to a proper location, by which health is to be promoted, is


VENTILATION,

and this covers a multitude of minor matters, but we have only room for
considering the subject in its broader aspect.

In olden times ample ventilation was secured through the massive open
chimneys, which, with their generous hearthstones, was such a
distinguishing and healthful feature of the homes of our ancestors. They
were, perhaps, "a blessing in disguise," but that they were a real
blessing there is no doubt. Then, too, they were the grand altars of the
family, around which the sweetest recollections of childhood and youth
cluster, as does the ivy to the walls of old-time buildings, making
them, though rude and rough, to memory most dear.

In place of these natural escapes for foul, and the admission of fresh
air, we have absolutely nothing in the present day to take its place. On
the contrary, air-tight stoves and air-tight furnaces have supplemented
the cheerful blaze of the fireplace, and in lieu of fresh air, a great
amount of poisonous gases are emitted, which stupefy and promote
disease. Especially is this the case where the fuel used is any of the
coals, instead of wood. The most deleterious of coals is the anthracite.
Its heat is scorching and drying beyond any other, and the gases are
more subtle and pernicious, excepting, possibly, charcoal, which,
however, is not used as fuel to any extent.

These air-tight coal stoves, such as are in ordinary use, are the worst
of all, since their name gives confidence to the public, who do not
consider that, while they have the merit of "keeping the fire through
the night," they do not keep the gases within. They are sure to creep
through the apertures, or, if barred there, will escape through the iron
itself, and it need not be very much in quantity to prove offensive to
people with delicate lungs or in a debilitated state of the system. The
strong and well will scout these opinions doubtless, and hold them of
little value, and to them it is not of so much consequence whether they
observe strictly the rules which govern health or no, their robust
constitutions (thanks to their parents, who did observe these rules,
either accidentally or purposely) will carry them along, doubtless, to
a ripe old age; but their children are to be reared in health, and the
fact of vigorous parentage may not, in their cases, where carelessness
prevails, guarantee vigorous lives; and, while the fathers and mothers
may escape from the ill effects of the vitiated atmosphere of their
apartments by exercise in the open air, their children cannot. And it is
well known that the children, in these cases, die one after another, the
result of poor ventilation or unhealthful location, or both combined,
while the parents wonder what the cause can be, ascribing it to all
things but the right.

Everything about our homes should be subjective to the one central idea
of _health_. Things of beauty or luxury, whether in or around the
dwelling, should, if on close scrutiny they are found prejudicial, be at
once removed.

The family sitting-room, if no other in the house, ought to be warmed by
means of a wood fire if a stove is used, yet a grate is far better, and
is the nearest approach to the old-fashioned fireplace attainable in
these times. A flue cut in the chimney near the ceiling, with a register
affixed, will, where stoves or furnaces are used, be of service, and are
quite easily and inexpensively constructed. The windows of
sleeping-rooms should be so made that the top sash can be as readily
lowered as the bottom one raised, and at night the former should be left
down sufficient for the free admission of fresh and the escape of foul
air, but it ought not to draw across the sleeper. Night air is not as
objectionable as the confined air of unventilated rooms. Invalids
should, however, avoid exposure to it as much as possible, since when
out in it, it envelops the whole person, and the chill and humidity may
work serious injury.

The old saw, that "early to bed and early to rise, makes people healthy,
wealthy, and wise," is deserving of more consideration than is accorded
it. Take any city-bred girl, who has been accustomed to late hours and
the excitement of entertainments and parties, and who, by these
unhealthful and killing rounds of so-called pleasure, has become
emaciated and prematurely old, and place her in a well-regulated
home,--the country is by far the best, where early retirement is a rule,
with a wholesome diet,--and she will in a few weeks show a marked
improvement. Mrs. Stowe relates a very interesting story of a city-girl
who had all to gratify her that fond parents could procure, and, though
constitutionally strong, this hothouse, fashionable life had began to
undermine her general health, and having exhausted the skill of the
regular physician, her condition became so alarming that other counsel
was sought; and this new disciple of Esculapius was a shrewd, honest
man, and wont to get at the root of difficulties. He saw at a glance
that the patient's disease was born wholly of _fashion_. He found her
waist so tightly laced as to admit of little room for full and free
respiration; this, with late hours and unwholesome food, was doing its
work. Being asked to prescribe, he first cut loose the stays which bound
her; then, ordering suitable shoes and apparel, gave directions for her
immediate removal to the country, where she was to first rest and lounge
in the sunshine, and as health returned, to romp and frolick in the open
fields and join in the merry glees of country life. With feelings akin
to those coming of great sacrifices, the commands were followed, and
this frail, dying girl was, in one brief summer, so far restored as that
the glow of her checks and the sparkle of her eyes rivalled those of the
farmer's fair daughter whose companion she had been.

City life is exceedingly destructive to young people, even when
considered aside from all undue excitements, indecorous habits, and
improprieties. The custom of late hours, night air, and the vitiated air
of apartments where companies assemble together, with the liability to
contract colds by being detained in draughts, or from want of sufficient
protection while returning from social assemblies; all these things
destroy annually a great army of young people, who either do not think
of consequences or else willfully neglect their lives to pay homage to
fashion--the curse of the world.

We cannot think all parents wholly neglectful in teaching their children
how to preserve health, and much of responsibility must rest with the
young; yet by far the larger portion of parents are so flattered by
alluring admirers, and led by the requirements and glamor of foolish
fashion, that they seem, to the cool observer, to fairly dig and garland
the premature graves of their loved ones.

How we wish we might impress one mother who worships at this abominable
shrine, set up heretofore--but we now hope forever cast down to make
room for an era of good sense and womanly delicacy--in Paris, by either
a dissolute court, or, as we have often been informed, by the _nymphs du
pave_, who seek to attract by tricks of style till they have come to
rule the whole of their sex, or such portions as have not the moral
courage to mark out an independent course. The violation of health,
contortions of the body, and other absurdities, aside from the vast
expense entailed upon the whole people, are perfectly astounding and
outrageous beyond belief. Let us examine a moment and see if we are
presuming. Granting that every lady in the land expends on an average of
but ten dollars each year for the fashionable make-up of her wardrobe;
that this mite goes for style, and necessary little etceteras growing
out of it, and not in any way for the material itself, which is really
the mountain of difficulty. Now, if there are twenty millions of women
in our country, it would give the sum of two hundred millions of dollars
annually expended for _style_. What a noble charity this would
establish every recurring year. What a relief to pauperism it would
form, and that too without the sacrifice of anything but "style." What a
relief to struggling, disheartened men, whose lives are those of slaves,
and families who pinch and starve themselves that they may possess the
magical key to fashionable society! But what is fashionable society that
it should have such charms for common and honest people? We give in
answer what was given us by one who had had for many years access to it.
He said, "Struggle to avoid it as the worst of calamities." It had swept
him and his family from a position of comparative affluence to one of
misfortune and distress. Fashion is the parent of both--"cussedness" and
consumption.

We know some young ladies are personally disgusted with all this "fuss
and feathers," who at the same time insist that, if they did not follow
the lead of "society" they would be thrown in the background, as at most
entertainments those who have carefully and elaborately arrayed
themselves receive the lion's share of attention and compliment from the
opposite sex, whose good opinion and company they wish to share. While
there is more of truth in this response than most gentlemen are willing
at first to admit, yet, observant people have ever noted the fact that,
notwithstanding these fashionable and polite addresses at public
assemblies between the beaux and butterflies, the end of the levee
usually terminates the hobnobbing. The "gay ladie" has had, quite
likely, her hour of triumph over her more modest, quiet, and unassuming
rival, now in the background, but whom--when the young man is ready to
proffer his hand and fortune--is most likely to be led to the front,
blushing with her becoming and well-deserved honors, leaving the doting
mothers, with their _dear_ daughters, to reflect on the "strange ways of
you men."

If the world sees, it does not fully believe what it sees, else a change
would surely come. The fact is, while men, especially the young men,
delight to do _honor_ to these devotees of the milliner and
mantua-maker, they cannot--those who have a fair share of good
sense--afford to _marry_ them. Their means, their prospects, and their
happiness forbid it, and they are right in this conclusion. They prefer
to unite their lives with some equally good, and usually more sensible
and healthful girl, but of, perhaps, no special prospects or position in
society. This decision is certainly founded in wisdom. They are forever
relieved from that constant strain on their pride, and the consequent
drain on their purse. Their style of living may, in this latter case, be
squared, without jar or reproach, to their real revenues, and life be to
them worth the living, while they gradually and lovingly lay aside, for
any future exigency, something each year on which, in old age or
disaster, they may confidently lean, and which, though it may not be
great, yet shall, in a reasonable life, be sufficient to tide them to,
and "over the river."

Everything, of course, has some exceptions; and where the fashionable
lady can sustain the family pride and family coach both at one and the
same time, why, then, our remarks and objections have little weight.
Yet, in what we have written may be found the real cause of the increase
of bachelors and old maids in society.

There are a few noble souls who rise above the bondage of their sex, and
follow the dictates of their own consciences in dress as in other
matters. This class embraces usually the very wealthy and the very
learned people who compose the polite and refined circles, as
distinguished from the flippant and fashionable ones. All honor to them.
Their example is great, and furnishes the chief hope of any possible
reform.

Some ask, what, indeed, shall we do if we discard all fashion? Our reply
is, to do as the Quakers do. They certainly look quite as presentable
and pretty in their "plain clothes" as do any other class of society.
But I hear the answer: "Yes, and is not their style _fashion_?" We grant
that it is, but at the same time insist that it is both a sensible,
economical, and becoming one; and such a fashion--a fashion of common
sense--is what we indorse, having not the least objection to that sort.
Like, the old-time mode of cutting boys' hair by use of a bowl clapped
over the head, it was a fashion, but a very simple, inexpensive, and
proper one enough, considering the circumstances. Now they must have the
assistance of a professional artist. Singular now one extreme follows
another.

Not until quite a recent date were we inclined to advocate "women's
rights," which is but another name--as modernly interpreted--for the
ballot. Now we are persuaded that it would be wise for the States to
concede this, and thereby open a new channel to them for thought, at
once weakening their hold on fashion, and enlarging their views of life
and its requirements. Good to the race, it would seem, must come of any
change whereby the rising generation shall have less of fashion and its
attendant evils, and more of health, with its accompanying blessings.

How few of perfectly healthy girls do we see among all those with whom
we are each severally acquainted. Tight lacing, began in early
childhood, is one of the chief of evils. You ask a girl of twelve years
if she is not too tightly dressed, and the reply is "no;" and the mother
is sure to argue that if the girl does not complain it is none of the
father's business to meddle. The fact is, the child has been gradually
brought to that state of unconsciousness of any discomfort by having
been subjected to this abominable process from a very tender age, and
being continued each year, the waist is scarce half the natural size it
should have been at womanhood. Take a country girl who has grown up free
from this practice, and has a well-developed frame, and put on her the
harness of her fashionable sister, and draw it to the point the latter
is accustomed to wear it, and you shall see whether there is any wincing
or no. The argument of these unreasoning mothers is that of the Chinese,
who dwarf their children's feet by beginning at an early period, and,
doubtless, if these youths were similarly questioned, they, too, would
complain of no inconvenience.

In the management and care of children, fond parents seem, in these
later years, little else than a bundle of absurdities. For instance,
take children of from three to ten years, and you shall see, in a
majority of cases, when dressed for the street, their backs ladened with
fold on fold of the warmest clothing, while their poor knees are both
bare and blue.

Ah! we forget, perhaps, that the physician and undertaker must live; and
then the army of nurses and others, too, are to be provided for, quite
as the fashionable lady would make reply to any _impertinence_ in
matters of her dress, that it kept an army of sewing-girls employed who
would otherwise be left to starve!

One of our most vigorous writers, treating this subject, says:--

"Showy wardrobe, excessive work with the needle, where it is done to
gratify a taste for display, or morbid fancy for exquisite work, is a
crime. Shoulders are bent, spines are curved, the blood, lacking its
supplies of oxygen, loses vitality and creeps sluggishly through the
veins, carrying no vivid color to the cheek and lips, giving no activity
to the brain, no fire to the eye. Let women throw away their fancy work,
dispense to a degree with ruffles and tucks, and, in a dress that will
admit of a long breath, walk in the clear bracing air.

"Mothers should begin early to lay the foundations of health. Children
should have plenty of vigorous, joyous exercise out of doors. They
should have romping, rollicking fun every day, at the same time giving
exercise to every part of the body, and a healthy tone to the spirits.
The body and soul are so intimately blended that exercise for the one is
of little value when the other is repressed. Thus the limbs will become
well knit and beautifully rounded, the flesh will be firm and rosy, and
the whole frame will be vigorous and elastic--vital to the finger tips.
Better that our youth should have a healthy _physique_, even if they
cannot read before they are ten years old, as in this case they would
soon overtake and outstrip the pale, narrow-chested child who is the
wonder of the nursery and the Sunday-school. Children are animals that
are to be made the most of. Give them ample pasturage, and let them be
as free as is consistent with the discipline they need; keep the girls
out of corsets and tight shoes, give them plain food, fresh air, and
plenty of sleep."

Nothing invites disease so much as the present style of living among the
well-to-do people. Nearly everything tends among this class to
deteriorate general health, and, since their numbers have within the
last decade greatly increased, the influence on the country must be
markedly detrimental, and, but for the steady flow of vitalizing blood
from the Old World, the whole Yankee race would ere long, inevitably
disappear.

We have dwelt in this chapter at considerable length on the importance
of right training and education of the young, and especially of girls,
though no more than the subject seems to demand. Boys are naturally more
out of doors, since their love of out-of-door life is greater than that
of girls, and their sports all lead them into the open air, and by this
means they more easily correct the constitutional and natural tendencies
to disease, if any there be. Then, too, the iron hand of fashion has not
fastened itself so relentlessly upon them as to dwarf their bodies and
warp their souls, as it has in some degree the gentler and better and
more tender half of mankind, to whom the larger share of this chapter
seems the more directly to apply.




CHAPTER IX.

HINTS TO INVALIDS AND OTHERS.

Indiscretions.--Care of themselves.--Singular effect of consumption on
mind.--How to dress.--Absurdities of dress.--Diet.--Habits of
people.--How English people eat.--What consumptives should eat.--Things
to be remembered.--The vanity of the race.--Pork an objectionable
article of diet.--Characteristics of the South.--Regularity in
eating.--The use of ardent spirits by invalids.--The necessity of
exercise.--The country the best place to train children.--Examples in
high quarters.--Sleep the best physician.--Ventilation.--Damp
rooms.--How to bathe.


It matters not what virtues climates may possess, if certain fundamental
laws regulating health are to be disregarded by the invalid. The robust
and strong may, perhaps, for a season violate these laws with impunity;
but, even in their cases, every serious indiscretion, if not immediately
felt, is as a draft on them, bearing some future date, sure of
presentation, while the payment is absolute. It may be five, fifteen, or
fifty years ere the boomerang of indiscretion returns, but come it will.
Invalids will need to watch and guard against all pernicious habits, and
to forego doing many things which they were accustomed to do while in
health, but which under the altered circumstances are extremely
injurious.

All pulmonic patients will, while taking counsel of some physician, do
well to remember that their cases rest largely in their own hands;
indeed, more depends on their own care of themselves than on the
efficacy of any system of medicine. Lung disease is usually of a most
flattering character, and its influence on the mind differs from that of
any other, in that the patient is lulled into a serene and hopeful
condition. This sense of security attends no other ill to the same
extent. It is perhaps fortunate that such is the case, since, in many
instances, there would be little vantage ground on which to rally.
Still, while this peculiarity seems to be and is an advantage, there is
another aspect of it which is quite as damaging, viz., the neglect and
inattention, into which the patient is, too often, betrayed by this
fancied security; frequently resulting in fatal consequences. It is,
again, a most singular fact that, while the consumptives are thus
blinded to their real danger, they become, quite as readily as other
people, alarmed concerning friends who happen to be similarly afflicted;
and this should serve as a caution against the companionship of
invalids. Indeed, the influence of mind upon mind is so positive and
subtle as to render it important that the invalid's surroundings be made
as cheerful and bright as possible. The sunshine of good company rivals
that of the day in restorative power.

Among the more essential matters in the way of hints to invalids, left
for brief elaboration in this chapter, is that of


DRESS.

This should be easy-fitting and comfortable. Woollen under-clothing is
required during nine months of the year in our climate; and, except it
should disagree with the person, ought to be worn. It carries off the
exhalations better, leaving the skin dryer and less liable to colds. The
weight of the material can be varied to suit the changing seasons. For
the summer months a mixed article, of wool and cotton, is desirable; but
in no case should a change be made from all wool to all cotton. It is
better to continue in the use of wool altogether than to commit this
error. It is not a hardship to wear woollen through the hottest season
of the year. Half of all our seamen do it, even while sailing in the
tropics, and both their health and comfort is undoubtedly increased by
it. It is, indeed, essential for many patients to wear it as a guard to
some extent against summer complaints. If any inconvenience of heat is
experienced at mid-day, it is better to change the outside clothing,
adjusting that to the thermometer, rather than to disturb one's
underwear. There are some sensitive-skinned people whom, we know, cannot
endure the contact of flannel; such can, however, usually wear, without
inconvenience, the mixed goods--especially if it be washed once or twice
before it is used.

It is important that all the clothing worn through the day should at
night be laid aside, and a nightdress substituted, which should be a
flannel wrapper coming nearly or quite to the feet. Changes of underwear
ought to be made once each week, and special care taken that it be well
aired and dried.

Never go without a chest protector. Considerable relief is afforded by
the use of this convenient and inexpensive article. Every old asthmatic
appreciates their value, and we have known such people, years ago, who
wore them. They warm the chest, and thereby loosen and soothe a cough.
They may be of any woollen material almost, so that it is soft and warm.
The best article is a piece of buckskin, lined upon one side with a
single thickness of flannel made in the form and size of a dinner plate,
with a piece clipped out to accommodate the throat; and to the corners
of the clipping attach pieces of tape. This tied around the neck and
over the under-clothing will prove not only a great relief, but will
help the system to better resist a cold; and, for gentlemen, it ought to
be in constant use, whether well or ill, as it serves to equalize the
clothing over the chest, which is now partially exposed by the fashion
of their vests. This invaluable little article can be obtained, when
there are no loving fingers to make it, at almost any city drug-store.
By wearing it in the manner indicated, it will not require to be washed
at all.

The absurdities and crimes of fashion in dress we have discussed
elsewhere, and only stop now to say that they should be laid aside by
the invalid. Tight lacing, tight collars, knee bands and garters, and
thin, tight shoes and boots, are not only foolish, but incompatible with
high health. Great good sense has, however, characterized both men and
women within the last few years in regard to the covering for the feet.
Every person who has occasion (and all should have) to be out of doors
in cold and even wet weather, ought to be provided with strong
thick-soled boots or shoes, large enough to admit a patent insole, which
will keep the feet dry, and at night this should be removed and dried.
The security from colds is almost assured whenever this precaution is
taken; at least they are a great preventive of colds, and they give, in
addition, a sense of solid comfort beyond that which is derived from
anything else, save, perhaps, a warm fire on a cold day, or a generous
bank account.

They should be an easy fit, as well as thick-soled; and, without this
virtue, the other is rendered null. Indeed, better have loose thin boots
or shoes, with holes in them even, than _tight_ thick ones. But they can
and should possess both of the characteristics named. It is safe to say
that any consumptive who has neither courage nor sense enough to adopt
the kind recommended, might as well be given over at once, and without
further ado.

Persons whose health is so perfect that they can for the time indulge
and endure anything, and who cannot be said to have had any experimental
knowledge of lame backs, sides, or weak stomachs, and who do not know
practically whether they have any such members at all or not, will not
be expected, at present, to pay any regard to what we have to offer
under the head of


DIET.

The other, and, unfortunately, most numerous class, know how sadly they
have fallen from their first estate. There was a time with them when
they never dreamed that their stomachs were not as strong as a
cider-mill, and could grind anything and everything which their greedy
natures and careless habits desired. There is no other living animal,
except it be the hog, that can eat and tolerate just the same variety of
materials, cooked and raw, as man. Their tastes and habits are
strikingly alike, it must be confessed, and their ends are not unlike;
both die untimely deaths, with this difference, one is in due time
killed, while the other, in equally due time, usually kills himself, the
advantage being in favor of the porker, since his career, if brief, is,
also, to the limit, blissful.

The habits of men are a curious mixture of sense and the want of it.
Endowed with some of the highest attributes, and yet forgetting that
they are anything beyond the veriest machines. They who leap from docks
and bridges are not the only suicides. These shock the world, and are
not uncommonly denied the last kindly offices of the church, while the
slower suicides are borne triumphantly from the chancel within to that
without--all turning on methods, and that is, indeed, important. Method
in living should receive our earliest and best attention. All need to
become good _methodists_, especially in some senses of that word.

The English men and women are the most systematic in their habits of
living; and, as a natural result, they are remarkably robust. They take
ample time in which to eat. An hour at dinner is as little time as they
customarily allow, while those who can, often devote much more. They eat
slowly, and talk a great deal, and laugh much, and by the time they have
done they are fairly red in the face, and keep so pretty much all the
time; and it is as healthy a sign as one can hang out. Good digestion
waits on appetite with them, and they grow stout and formidable. They
not only eat slow, but they know what to eat and what makes good blood.
Suppose every Englishman could be sent into France and obliged to live
on French cooking; does any one suppose they would remain the same
people they now are? Not a bit of it. Take from John Bull his roast
beef, and mode of eating it, and you change the character of the race
inside of a century. They must have their favorite dish, and about as
often as a friend of ours, Dr. M----, who, by the way, is a good type of
an Englishman, and enjoys the things of this world much more than is
common with Americans. On asking M---- how often he indulged in roast
beef, he replied, that about three hundred and sixty-five times in the
year was his rule! Invalids may be assured it was not a bad one. Of
course, he took a great deal of active exercise, seldom using a horse
while engaged in the practice of his profession.

Consumptives, and those who are generally debilitated and who need a
fresh stock of good blood, cannot do better than confine themselves, so
far as meats are concerned, to beef and mutton. The latter should be
well cooked, while the former ought to be eaten rare done. If it is at
first distasteful in this manner, proceed by degrees, and by-and-by it
will grow in favor; but commence with it rare at the outset, when
possible. Whether roasted or broiled, beef should not be cooked as to
destroy all its natural color. Let the inside show some of the blood,
the more the better, and the quicker it is assimilated to the needs of
the system. General Rawlins, the late secretary of war, died of
consumption, but his life was prolonged many months by the use of rare
and even raw beef. He came to like it better raw than in any other way.
Once a day is, perhaps, as often as may be required; much, however,
depends on the amount of exercise taken. Wild game is likewise good,
especially venison, and where that can be had, beef and mutton may be
dispensed with. Fish and eggs furnish a variety to the invalid's diet,
and such vegetables as are liked may be indulged, of course. Never eat
but of one kind of meat at any one meal, and not over two kinds of
vegetables, with wholesome, fresh bread (Graham preferred), and the
coarser the better. Insist on having coarse bread; let it be made of
unbolted meal. As for drinks, a single cup of very weak tea or coffee,
diluted chiefly with milk, will not harm. A glass of milk is better in
warm weather, if it agrees. Let water alone, except it is that which the
system has become familiarized with; then, half a glass is preferable to
a larger quantity at meals. Sousing the stomach at meal-time with a cold
_douche_ is only harmful. After the food has had time to digest and pass
out of the stomach, then, if one is a great water-drinker, take a glass,
or so much of a glass as you think is required, and it will be of
benefit. Make the heartiest meal come at noon, and eat a light supper at
night, using bread and butter for the most part.

_Things to be remembered and observed in eating_, are slowness and
thorough mastication; never wash your food down with any drink. Talk and
laugh, taking as much time to do this as you do to eat. A noted
humorist says that "every time a man laughs he takes a kink out of the
chain of life, and thus lengthens it." That is true philosophy, and it
is little understood by our nervous, rushing people. We grin and snicker
enough, at ourselves and others, but downright hearty laughter is a
stranger to the most of us. It should be cultivated till, in an honest
way, it supplants, at least, the universal snicker. There is both
comfort and health in rousing peals of laughter.

_Things to be avoided in eating_, are hot, fresh baked breads of all
kinds; also avoid all manner of pies as you would a pestilence, likewise
cakes, of every description; they are the crowning curse. Women will
make it and children will cry for it, probably, for all the generations
to come, as they have in the past. But more truthful epitaphs should be
inscribed over them than is now done. It is strange how fashion rules in
diet as in dress. Why, the Koohinoor diamond of Victoria is not more
valued than is a steady supply of poundcake by most of women and
children. We know of a family who make it a boast that _they_, when
young, had _all they wanted_; which either implies their mother to have
been unwisely indulgent, or else the children to have been
over-clamorous. It certainly does not imply wealth, and, least of all,
culture, for the poorest families have usually the largest display of
these things, while those with enlarged means and sense dispense with
them out of good judgment.

Travelling on the cars, a short time since, we had for a companion a
shrewd Yankee who had the honor to be postmaster of his city, and at the
same time was engaged in the boot and shoe trade; one of those stirring
men who, if he did not possess genius, had its nearest kin--activity,
and illustrated the fact that a man _might_ do two things well at one
and the same time. He gave us samples of human nature which is quite
apropos to the general subject. In discussing the eccentricities of
merchandising, he said that usually wealthy customers entering his store
would ask to see his cheaper class of boots, such as would do service,
"honest material, but not the most expensive," and from that class would
make their selections; but, whenever parties entered whose means were
known to him to be limited, and yet whose "pride of family" and personal
vanity were in increased ratio to their decreased capital, he never
ventured even to suggest the class of goods taken by the wealthy, lest
offense be given. His rule was to show to such his very best goods
first. They wished to display "a notch above their betters." And so with
the cake question. Some of even the poorest families of New Englanders
doubtless eat more of this material than does the Royal family of
England, if it could but be known.

There remains yet another article of food to be proscribed. We refer to
the pork question. All ought to be good Jews on this subject. Their
prohibition is, we believe, founded on the intrinsic unhealthfulness of
the thing itself. Its use is universal in this country, and in the South
it forms the chief meat diet. This latter fact comes of their mode of
agriculture more than original preference. They devoted all labor to
cotton growing, and had their meat and grain to buy. The question with
the planter in laying in his supplies was what would go farthest, at a
given price, as food for his slaves. Bacon and flour were always found
to answer the economic query best. The West furnished bountiful
supplies, and readily floated these products to a market, where
competition was not only not thought of, but entirely out of the
question. Cattle and sheep raising (outside of Texas) had no growth or
encouragement among them. The planters soon fell into the habit of using
bacon on their own tables, and the result is, it has continued to form
the staple article for all classes there for several generations. The
darkies have rather flourished upon it, while the whites have suffered
greatly in consequence.

Its use undeniably produces scrofula, salt-rheum, tetter, ringworm,
humors in the blood, rheumed eyes, enlarged glands, sore eyes, and
lastly, cancer. Almost any community in the South will afford several
examples of one or all of these diseases, and all directly traceable to
the excessive use of salt pork. In a somewhat sparsely settled
neighborhood near Central Georgia, known as Social Circle, a dozen cases
of cancer alone can, in one form or another, be found, and that is one
of the most salubrious sections in all the southern country.

They have become so enamored of "hog and hominy," that they are fairly
superstitious or foolish regarding the use of some other kinds of meat.
For instance, mutton, in any form, they are disgusted with as a rule. We
tried to get at the reason while sojourning there, but never fairly
succeeded, though the impression was, plainly, that they did not think
it proper food for white people anyway, and then the "odor was so
disgusting," and altogether it was only fit for "trash folks." We scarce
hope to be believed when we state, that we have seen young ladies refuse
to sit at the table where this dish was served, and served, too, out of
compliment to their guests from the North.

This same feeling was largely shared by the colored people, and, while
it was no infrequent thing for the "smoke-house"--where the bacon was
kept--to be broken open in ante-war times, taking the risk of detection
and dogs, it was almost an unheard-of occurrence that a sheep was
stolen. They roamed, what few there were, at will and unharmed, except
by dogs and wild beasts--the special benefit accruing to their owners
being simply the wool. During and since the war, matters have been
undergoing a change, and sheep raising is receiving more attention, and
beginning to be valued as an article of food. Still, during weeks last
winter, the Atlanta markets did not show a single carcass of mutton,
notwithstanding the great extent of country tributary to it by means of
her railways.

This change above referred to, while of slow growth, is, in part, owing
to the example our troops set, the experience of their prisoners, their
straitened circumstances, and lastly, to the infusion of Northern
society among them.

While there are undoubtedly tenfold more of those diseases in the South
consequent on the use of pork, than what there is at the North, yet its
consumption is vastly in excess with us of what it should be. There is
no doubt of this. Scrofula, salt-rheum, and ophthalmia, are among the
chief developments at the North. At the North greater and better variety
of food among all classes is in use, to say nothing of better cooking,
which wards off some of the worst results.

The natural tendency is to greater use of pork in the more northern than
in the Southern States, since the climate would seem to call for it; but
we have shown its use at the South to be the result of circumstances
more than of _original_ preference and probable inclination, since all
peoples of low latitudes, of a high standard of civilization, elect a
lighter diet than those of cooler climates.

There are some who declaim against the use of any and all kinds of meat
for food, and advocate a purely vegetable diet. There is much that can
be said in its favor, and it ought, with fruits, to form at least two of
the three daily meals. The system would be in better tone, and the mind
as well. But there are extremes in all things, and these sometimes
govern the conduct of men. A happy medium is usually the best, and for
our climate, we believe the use of the right kinds of meat to be not
only healthful but eminently proper. The natural law aids to this
conclusion. We see the people of the tropics indulging largely in fruit,
which an allwise Providence has placed there and adapted to their wants;
again, at the poles the inhabitants live almost wholly on the fat of
animals--a half-dozen tallow candles being eaten at a meal, when
supplied by strangers. The intense cold requires this heavy fuel to
supply the needed heat and comfort. What would an exclusive vegetable
diet be worth to them, exposed as they are? With us, lying between the
two extremes, with a climate and country abounding in both fruits and
animals, with seasons of cold and heat in nearly equal extremes, it
seems quite rational that a mixed diet, regulated by common-sense rules,
is the best. Certainly the highest civilization to which man has yet
attained is found in the temperate zones, where neither the one nor the
other extreme in diet has obtained.

A manifest advantage and improvement in general health can, however, be
effected by paying a more enlightened regard to those things whereof we
dine. People with gluttonish inclinations can easily and do make
themselves sick while subsisting on an entirely fruit diet; hence, if
discretion is needed in the use of the simplest articles of food, of
course it cannot be dispensed with while indulging in other sorts.

But, in a volume of this character, we cannot amplify the details of
this very interesting and important topic to that extent we could wish.
Suffice it to say, that so far as pork is concerned, we abjure all to
leave it severely alone. There is a variety of other meats great enough,
from which all may choose, and there are no good elements inherent in
pork which cannot be supplied in other meats, or by the free use of good
fresh butter, which is at all times a much better _fuel_ for the system
than pork.

Regularity in eating is highly essential, and too much stress cannot be
placed upon this injunction to the sick. It is quite as important to
those in health who would remain so; but then, few in health believe
that, or if they do, their habits do not conform to their belief. The
duties of life should conform to the laws of health, and where there is
any conflict, shove duties overboard always.

Indigestion is the result of irregular, hasty, or unwholesome meals, and
likewise meals in quantity beyond that required by genuine hunger and
health. It is the mother of many evils, some one of which will be sure
to visit, in time, all who violate themselves as above indicated.

Many there are who, troubled with a cough, sore throat, and general
debility, think they have the consumption, whereas it is, at the outset,
nothing but indigestion. They will go on eating heartily, and continue
their pie and cake, these being so pleasant to the palate; they say,
"one piece will not do harm," "one swallow never made a summer," and
thus they continue till complete prostration takes possession of them.

The use of stimulants at or after a meal may be done with advantage in
some cases, but it should only be taken when the physician so advises.
We have heard of consumption being cured by the free use of whisky; but
should the habit of using it become an uncontrolled one, we question
whether the life of the individual is worth the saving at this cost to
community and friends. Some of the most eminent among the faculty
recommend it, while others do not. When cod-liver oil is freely used, a
spoonful of whisky ought, perhaps, to accompany it. If cream, butter, or
the fat of mutton or beef be freely eaten at the noon or morning meal,
and they are about as useful as the oil itself, stimulants are not so
much needed, except that of


EXERCISE,

which is really one of the medicines most needed by consumptives,
dyspeptics, and hosts of others who are complaining. A daily dose of the
saw-horse or wash-tub isn't bad for weak lungs and bodies, or for strong
ones who wish to continue thus. Take a thoroughly well person,
accustomed to an active, out-of-door life, shut them up and confine them
to a bed, and a tolerable invalid will soon be the result. The converse
of this holds good, namely, take an invalid who is able to walk about
the house, but feeble in spirit and body, if exercised daily out of
doors, a gradual return to health is apt to follow. The strong, to
continue the growth of their powers, must give themselves constant
practice. The story of the man who commenced to lift the calf, and
continued the task daily till after it had grown to be an ox,
illustrates this. Moderate and constant labor is the law of both life
and health.

There are two classes who need counselling--those who overwork either
mind or body or both, and there are many such, especially among those
who conduct the multitude of our public journals. No profession is so
exacting or exhausting as is theirs, or so generally thankless, and none
so greatly influential for good or evil. These classes are, however,
small compared with those who die for the want of a proper amount of
physical exercise.

The weak-lunged portion of the world must have physical exercise out of
doors, or they must die. There is hope for them if they will but consent
to labor in the open air. Those who cannot hold a plow and hoe corn,
should jolt themselves on the back of a horse at a good round trot. If
that is too much, in their debilitated condition, canter the animal; but
if only a walking gait can be endured, why, hitch the horse in the stall
and go on foot. Go briskly--get some errands to do which require to be
done daily; take a contract to drive the mail out into the country, or,
if no business can be had, ride on horseback to the mountains, spending
the whole season in the going and returning. Do no studying or
letter-writing by the way, and especially none to lady-loves. It will do
little good to send the body off on a health trip, and have, meanwhile,
the mental arm around your sweetheart. And it works against your
recovery even worse when you are situated so as to substitute these
mental for real flirtations. This does not so much apply to married men.
They who have wives or husbands would be the better of their company and
care.

Invalids who cannot travel, either at home or elsewhere, in consequence
of weakness, should sit in the open air in some sheltered corner of the
verandah, or of their room, and bathe in the light and sunshine, being
careful to avoid all draughts.

A young man was just starting out in business. He was to leave his home
in New England to engage in active life in one of the large cities
situate on Lake Erie. He had bidden his childhood's home his first
adieu, and meeting with a friend, sought some counsel; this friend, at
the close of a somewhat lengthy interview, and as the sum of all he had
uttered, said: that he should remember to practice three things, if he
would have his efforts crowned with success, namely, the first was
_Perseverance_,--the second was _Perseverance_, and the third was
_Perseverance_. So it is with pulmonic patients: if they would recover,
aside from the aids of diet, dress, and all the other etceteras, they
must first and all the time continue to _Exercise_--EXERCISE--EXERCISE
the body in the open air.

The distinguished Dr. Willard Parker once said to us that he put a
consumptive on the back of a horse at his office-door in New York, and
told him to ride for his life. He did ride for his life, and, after a
six months' journey of about two thousand miles, having traversed the
Central States, he returned with the assurance of his physician that he
had overcome his disease.

There is often criminal fault in parents about the matter of exercise.
They who are in affluent circumstances, and others who would be thought
affluent; and again, that class (and, we are sorry to say, it is a large
one) who are so very tender of their children, and whose mothers do all
their own household labor, only so that their daughters may be the
admiration of a ball-room, or else through fear they will "get sick" if
they put their hands to anything which has kept their mothers so strong
and well.

If parents did their whole duty, they would place the boys upon the
farm, where they might grow strong and lay well the foundations of life,
while the girls should bear a hand at making as well as eating bread.
The art of cooking is a science, by the way, very little understood, and
there is scope and verge enough for any ordinary genius, and as noble a
service to mankind may be accomplished by its mastery as any that comes
within the pale of human life.

Health seems almost ignored in these later days by parents, so far as
the training of their children is concerned. Their overweening pride and
love blinds them to what is their true duty. They feel it would be so
trying for their "dear boy" to do any kind of manual labor, and it is so
bad that his delicate hands should be soiled and hardened by any toil,
that they would deny themselves of even the necessaries of life in order
their fair-haired boy may be thought such a "nice young man," and so
"genteel." Their judgment, however, is never in error with regard to
some of the neighborhood "rapscallions." Their heads are perfectly level
on the question of "those rowdy boys." Their advice is as sound as it is
free. They can predict with greater accuracy than can any of the
second-sightseers as to the ultimate end of these embryo ladies' men,
good-for-nothings, sharpers, spendthrifts, and paupers. They know the
process full well whereby these boys can be transformed into strong,
honest, enterprising, and useful citizens. They do not forget, either,
though many would but for an occasional gibe from some envious Mrs.
Grundy, that both they and their husbands were the children of obscurity
and poverty; which, rather than being any dishonor, as it is often
thought, particularly by the vainer sex, is a badge of genuine honor and
royal patent of the man's energy and industry.

Witness the noble example set Republicans by the head of the most
illustrious empire in the world, and consider how wise a Queen and
mother may be, while her love for her family is not excelled by that of
any other true and devoted mother. She realizes the necessity and value
of sound health, if long and useful lives are to be attained. We see her
sons doing duty for years in the ranks of the common sailor and soldier,
enduring the privations and hardships incident to such service, and they
thus secure not only health, but an insight into human life and thought
and nature more valuable than any of the lessons learned from books.

All excesses in labor are to be reprehended, and not uncommon is it that
we hear of health ruined and even life jeopardized by some foolish or
thoughtless effort. Young men ought to guard against strife in labor,
which usually accompanies an ambition to excel. We know of an instance
where a company of boys, by lifting against each other, one was
ruptured. And again, an "itinerant" came along with a machine known as a
lung-tester; one fair-haired, slender youth, having fears he would fall
below the average, made so great an effort as seriously to impair his
health for the time. Another case of a boy, who was frequently into some
daring scheme of house-climbing or leaping, sought the crest of a cliff,
some thirty feet, and, to astonish his companions, essayed the feat of
flying; and, though he flew well enough, the lighting proved too much,
since, as he struck the ground, both his legs were broken short off. We
cite these various instances, coming within the range of boys' sports,
for the purpose of warning others from attempting excesses. Leaping,
running, climbing, are well enough in their way, and may be practiced in
perfect safety, as millions of boys have practiced them with no
detriment, but absolute advantage. Care should be exercised, and counsel
given, to beware of the danger of going to extremes. The race over the
meadows for the cows; hoeing in the garden or field; sawing or cutting
wood for the fire; riding the horse to mill; a walk to the village
post-office; holding plow; raking hay; the most of which are charming
things to do, and just what boys should do to become strong and capable
men.

The renowned of any age usually come from humble life, in which
character, both physical and mental, has had opportunity for
development. Washington was a farmer's boy; so were Adams, Jefferson,
Putnam, Jackson, Webster, Clay, Douglas, Lincoln, and Raymond, of the
past; and Grant, Sherman, Trumbull, Emerson, Bryant, Buckingham, and
Greeley, of the present; while nine out of every ten of successful lives
in any department of labor have come from the fields of country life.

Gymnasiums offer a very good substitute for outdoor exercise; and if
practice in them is at all times controlled by a careful judgment, the
result is undoubted benefit. Indeed, the lung power of an individual can
be more rapidly enlarged here than elsewhere, since exercise is here
adapted and may be directed solely to that end. However, one may not
require for this purpose anything beyond a simple and inexpensive
apparatus, consisting of a cross-bar and a pair of rings attached to
some point above, with just room enough to swing the person clear of the
floor.


SLEEP

is the "sweet restorer," and invisible physician, playing an important
part in the restoration and maintenance of health. Without this daily
dying, as we are constituted, there could be no daily living; and
whatever promotes sound, natural, balmy slumber is beyond all price in
the economy of life. Chief among these promptings to restful slumber are
a clear conscience, proper exercise, a suitable diet, and place. All
but the latter have been considered. One-third of the whole time of life
is spent in bed. Suppose an individual has attained the age of
seventy-five years, twenty-five of this, on the average, have been
passed in sleeping! How essential, then, it becomes to understand and to
have every help which can be afforded, in securing the required rest our
wearing frames demand.

The first requisite is an airy room, capable of constant ventilation,
either by the windows, doors, or flues, or by all. Next, a comfortable
bed, of almost any material, except cotton and feathers, though the
latter might be indulged in during the severest season; but it is better
to dispense with them _in toto_, and use instead a mattress of hair,
husk, moss, or straw. These even should be frequently aired, but only
upon bright sunny days, and occasionally changed altogether for new
material. In place of heavy cotton counterpanes use woollen blankets at
all seasons.

Consumptives, and invalids generally, should never sleep under the
former, as they are unhealthful. All bed-clothing should be carefully
dried before a fire ere it is used. Many a one can date their final cold
and fatal cough from this neglect of otherwise thoughtful housewives.
Never put your friend in the northwest bedroom if it has not been duly
aired in summer, or warmed in winter. If this is not done, it is almost
manslaughter. That corner in our houses should be used for parlors,
store-rooms, or anything, rather than for sleeping people in. We have
had some experience in this matter and know how utterly defenseless
people are when assigned one of these rooms where death dwells. An open
attack with a bludgeon is preferable. Cold, fresh air is beneficial, but
a _cold, fresh_ bed isn't.

No one thing, perhaps, serves more to drive away sleep than cold feet.
People ought not to go to bed with cold feet. Dry them by the fire, or
rub them till warmth comes. To avoid cold feet wash them frequently in
cold salt water, rub them thoroughly, and wear loose, thick boots or
shoes. Brisk walking, or chafing them on a rough mat will tend to
restore warmth. Stockings should be changed often, and when possible, in
winter, placed by the fire to dry. There should always be some extra
covering upon the bed over the lower extremities in cold weather; it
gives, in various ways, additional comfort to the sleeper, and there is
less need of covering for the body. An extra blanket over the footboard,
in our changeful climate, is a wise measure. All have at some time been
awakened in the night by the increasing cold, which would prevent
further sleeping if there were no remedy of this sort at hand. No more
covering should be used, however, than seems judicious. Pernicious
habits may be formed in this respect, which should be corrected, though
we are aware some natures are more delicate and sensitive to cold than
others.

Many there are, who sleep with their heads covered; this is highly
destructive to health, and cases of scrofula may be directly traced to
this custom. The poisonous exhalations from the body, together with the
constant exhaustion of the oxygen from breathing, renders this confined
air foul to the last degree. "The custom of covering the faces of
children with the bed-clothes," says the celebrated Florence
Nightingale, "produces a large share of the cases of scrofula found
among them."

Invalids afflicted with catarrhal troubles should be careful to sleep
upon their sides with their faces as much downward as possible, and
dispense with all proppings, except a small thin pillow, the end of
which will serve to give the right inclination to the face. The reasons
for this, in these cases, are so obvious that there is no need of their
statement here. The side is, for that matter, the best attitude for the
sleeper in all cases, as also is a very slight elevation of the head,
since the flow of the blood is less obstructed.

The habit of throwing yourself down to rest during the day without extra
covering, is a source of many colds. The invalids should remove their
outer dress wholly and get into bed, and thus secure not only immunity
from possible colds, but a better circulation of the blood than they can
have if this is not done.

Avoid the taking of colds in every way possible; and to do this,
watchfulness and care is needed. Never sit in a draught in either
private or public assemblies; no, not even if in church. There is no law
of courtesy which requires any one to inflict suffering on themselves,
or perhaps to endanger their lives, out of regard to numbskulled
architects or incompetent "building committees."

If a cold is taken give it prompt attention, and "scotch" it in the bud
if possible. As to treatment, all are apt to have some favorite method.
Pursue any rational course in which you have most faith, only so that
you remain in your room, eat little or nothing, and keep the system
unobstructed.

Bathing should not be neglected, and cold water baths in summer are
refreshing and should be frequently indulged; but in winter, temper the
water so as not to shock the system. This jumping into ice-cold water
may do for persons in the highest health, perhaps, but the invalid will
have nothing to do with this sort. When the sponge is used then cold
water applied to one limb or section of the body will do very well, if
followed by brisk rubbing. This should be done in the morning, while
tepid baths, tempered that no shock be produced, ought to be taken just
before retiring, whether it be the sponge or full bath.

The invalid who is much debilitated should take all baths in a warm
room, with an assistant, bathing one portion while the other is kept
partially dressed.

There is always a small current of air moving over the floor, and to
protect against this, keep the feet covered, and the first thing to be
done on rising in the morning, or at any time, should be to dress your
feet, otherwise, even if you do not take cold, cold feet will be apt to
keep your company the entire day.

We may also add here, that if by any exposure the feet get wet, to
prevent taking cold, they should be, on returning home, at once plunged
into cold water, rubbed briskly, and dried before the fire.

Finally, pure air, thick shoes, warm clothing, a nourishing diet,
liberal exercise, early to bed and early to rise, with a rigid
regularity of habit, and the abolition of fashion in the things
specified, and many who are now invalids may live long and be
comparatively happy. But, indulge in corsets, thin, shoes, irregular
hours, and live in damp and unventilated houses, eating fine-bolted, hot
breads, with liberal supplies of pie and pound-cake, and it will not be
long ere the undertaker will be cultivating your acquaintance.

Beware of this advancement on his part. It bodes no good to you. He has
an eye to business. If not the pale-horse, he is its rider. Take another
direction quickly, and give him a cold shoulder, but see that he does
not get two.




CHAPTER X.

WHERE TO GO AND WHAT TO SEE AND EXPECT.

The best localities for invalids and others.--The city of
Minneapolis.--Its drives and objects of interest--Cascade and Bridal
Tails.--Fort Snelling.--Minnehaha Falls.--The city and Falls of St.
Anthony.--Anoka and St. Cloud.--Fishing and hunting.--Wilmar and
Litchfield.--Lake Minnetonka.--Experience in fishing.--Some "big
fish."--White Bear Lake.--The Minnesota Valley.--Le Sueur.--St. Peter's
and Mankato.--Minneopa Falls.--Southwestern Minnesota.--Its agricultural
wealth and capabilities.--Northern Pacific Railroad and its
branches.--The Red River country.--Trade with Manitoba.--Western life
and habits.


It is essential for the invalid, before undertaking a journey to
Minnesota, to know the best points, both as regards matters of
accommodation and of location. For there is, even in this State,
considerable choice for patients; while for tourists, any point offering
attractions is the place for them. We shall briefly consider the whole
subject, but first with regard to the former class.

The city of St. Paul, an account of which has been previously given, is
the most natural place to make the first stop; and it is a bright,
cheerful, busy city in which to while away the time. Its location is
healthful, as well as beautiful, and invalids may remain there with
perhaps as great advantage as at any point in the State, especially in
the winter season.


MINNEAPOLIS,

situated on the west bank of the Mississippi River, opposite the Falls
of St. Anthony, and less than an hour's ride by rail from St.
Paul,--with a direct line to Milwaukee,--enjoys, at present, the widest
celebrity among invalids as a place of resort. This town is on a nearly
level plain adjoining the Mississippi River at the Falls of St. Anthony,
and possesses a population of thirteen thousand. It is perhaps, _par
excellence_, the most wide-awake and flourishing city in the State; and,
while not over a dozen years of age, exhibits, in the elegance and cost
of its private dwellings, its spacious stores, its first-class and
well-kept hotel, the Nicollet House, its huge factories and thundering
machinery--driven by that more than Titanic power of the great and
wondrous Falls,--evidence of a solid prosperity.

Scores of invalids may be found in this town at the hotels and various
private boarding-houses, of which there are quite a number.

Many visiting the State for health, leave without that improvement they
should have obtained, owing to irregular habits and indulgences, which
are directly traceable to their associations, rather than to any
objectionable habits they may possess. The temptation, when time hangs
heavy on their hands, to join in billiards, euchre, and tea-parties,
keeping the mind unduly excited and leading to late hours, is fatal to
every benefit derived from the climate. If friends can accompany the
invalid, giving society and controlling their life and habits, they
thereby insure against these liabilities to a very great extent.

There is much in the vicinity of Minneapolis to interest the visitor.
Days may be spent in examining the Falls of St. Anthony, which roar and
surge along the rapids, impressing one with an appalling sense of their
mighty power.

The suspension bridge, connecting the city with that of St. Anthony on
the east bank of the river, is an interesting object. It was erected
several years since at an expense of over half a hundred thousand
dollars, and is the only bridge of its class on the whole river.

Take the towns of St. Paul and Minneapolis, together with the
intervening country, and perhaps no portion of the Union east of the
Rocky Mountains, presents so many objects of interest as does this
particular region. St. Paul is itself a noble town, and the prospect
from its highest elevations quite entertaining; while at the latter city
the Falls of St. Anthony are "a sight to behold," and make up what the
town lacks in striking scenery.

The country between the two cities is as pleasing in general outline as
any to be found. Of course, it lacks that romantic element so
characteristic of New England, yet its general character is more rolling
than that of most of the prairie country found in the West.

A drive from either city is "the thing" for the visitor to do. From
Minneapolis one of the most charming drives in the world, for its
length, can be had. Passing over the suspension bridge to the east side
of the river, and down by it to the Silver Cascade and Bridal-veil
Falls, which charm from their exquisite beauty, then on to the junction
of the Mississippi and Minnesota Rivers at Fort Snelling, and across by
the rope-ferry under the tall battlements of the frowning fort, whose
edge is on a line with the towering, perpendicular bluff two hundred
feet above your head, round by the road and up to the plain above, and
into the inclosure of this old-time fortification, where, leaving your
carriage, you proceed to the round tower, or look out of the fort, and
on the very pinnacle of both cliff and battlement you may gaze out and
over a spectacle more grand and beautiful than anything we know short of
the White Hills. Away to the right stretches the valley of the Minnesota
River, while before you the "Father of Waters" receives into his
embraces the waters of the Minnesota, then, sweeping to the left, rolls
slowly and majestically from view behind the companion bluffs of the
eastern shore.

Here, from this crowning tower has floated--for more than half a
century--the "star-spangled banner" of our country, giving to the early
settler an assurance of protection; proclaiming equality and freedom to
all peoples who come hither in search of new homes, and to each and all
a sense of increased dignity and importance as they stand underneath its
ample folds.

A short distance across the open prairie and up the river toward
Minneapolis--on the return--is the famed


MINNEHAHA FALLS.

Longfellow's exquisite picture--in words--of these falls seems so
perfect and complete that we cannot forbear to quote it. He says:

"Sweet Minne-ha-ha like a child at play,
Comes gaily dancing o'er her pebbly way,
'Till reaching with surprise the rocky ledge,
With gleeful laugh bounds from its crested edge."

And what can we say of them that shall be new or of fresh interest
either to those who have read of, or what is better, have seen them?
After viewing and listening to their laughing-leap we easily understand
the fitness of the name they bear--the "Laughing Waters."

The first sight of the falls is captivating, and there seems little of
praise which you could wish to withhold. They are the very antipodes of
those of Niagara--instead of volume and power inspiring awe, they win
your love and enhance your views of the beautiful and good.

The waters

"Flash and gleam among the oak trees,
Laugh and leap into the valley,"

and move gaily and gleefully among the maples, oaks, and vines which
line and wreathe its banks; rivalling in song the wild birds that linger
in the cool shadows of the embowering trees.

Minnehaha Creek has its rise in Lake Minnetonka, a dozen miles or more
distant, where it is quite a diminutive little brook; from thence runs
to and through Lakes Calhoun and Harriet, meandering along the surface
of the country, till it makes its graceful leap at the falls to the
chasm, some forty feet below, then empties into the Mississippi about
half-a-mile distant to the eastward. The width of the stream and falls
does net much exceed twenty feet.

We lingered long, and reluctantly turned our feet away from this
enchanting scene where both real and imaginary heroes and heroines have
dwelt, and in the bright waters of which their picturesque encampments
have been often mirrored.

St. Anthony--opposite Minneapolis--is one of the oldest towns in the
State, and was, in _ante bellum_ times, quite a fashionable resort for
the Southerners. The war ended that, while the latter city gave to it
its final _coup de grace_, and soon after the business set to the west
bank of the river.

Its chief object of interest is the State University, which has but
just entered upon its career of usefulness.

Tourists will enjoy a few days in and around Minneapolis. It is the
centre of a number of attractive objects of natural curiosity. A drive
to Lake Calhoun and a day's sport in fishing is both practicable and
pleasant.

We cannot regard the City of St. Anthony as equalling Minneapolis as a
place of residence in point of health. Even in the latter city it is
important that a home be had as remote from the neighborhood of the
Falls as is convenient. Its adaptability to the needs of the invalid
consists more in the walks and drives, the ample boarding-house and
hotel accommodations, good markets, and cheerful, pleasant society, than
in the particular location of the town itself or in the character of the
soil on which it is built.

Beyond, and on the line of the St. Paul and Pacific _Branch_
Railroad--now owned and operated by the Northern Pacific Railroad--the
towns of Anoka and St. Cloud, both on the banks of the "great river,"
are either more desirable for invalids than most other points in the
State within our knowledge, so far as _location_ is concerned. They are
high and dry above the river, and possess a soil in and around them of a
loose sandy character, for the most part every way favorable to good
drainage and dryness. The towns themselves are quite small, yet
accommodations might be found for a large number in the aggregate. The
hotels offer no special temptation to guests beyond those of the
ordinary private family in the way of home comforts and conveniences.
The people are kind, intelligent, and obliging to strangers; as, indeed,
they are elsewhere in the State. Yet there is always a more hearty and
cordial salutation among the inhabitants of towns who are anxious to
secure good reputations and thereby enlarge their borders.

There is some hunting and fishing near both of these places, as, indeed,
there is at most all points in the interior.

Near St. Cloud are Pleasant, Grand, Briggs, and Rice's Lakes, where
fishing and rowing may be had, while the country eastward of the town
affords fair hunting.

It is quite an advantage to any place, from an invalid standpoint, that
the surrounding country affords them abundant means whereby the mind may
be occupied and kept from crooning over the memories of loved ones far
away, or brooding upon their own misfortunes.

On the St. Paul and Pacific _Main_ Line--also controlled and owned by
the Northern Pacific Road--are a number of attractive and healthful
places, where ample accommodations may be had for the invalid, and where
those who come to construct new homes will find cheap lands and good
society.

The chief points are, after passing Minneapolis, Lake Minnetonka,
Dassel, Smith Lake, Litchfield, and Wilmar. At the latter place there is
a very pretty lake close to the village, with numerous others within a
circuit of ten miles, and all are well stocked with fish; and in the
spring and fall wild-fowl--ducks, geese, swans, and all our migrating
birds, frequent them in great numbers. Moose are occasionally seen a few
miles west of the town,--between it and the Chippewa River in
considerable droves. There is a very nice hotel at this point, kept by
an obliging host.

At Litchfield, good society and a somewhat larger village is
encountered, but with less of sporting and outdoor amusements. Near this
place resides the invalid son of Senator Howard of Michigan. He came to
the State a confirmed consumptive, having hemorrhages and in that state
of "general debility" incident to this disease, but is now in good
health, the result of the climate and out-of-door exercise in which he
has freely indulged, having taken a farm and rolled up his sleeves,
determined to save himself--as he has.

It cannot be expected that a brief sojourn in this State will work any
marvellous cure. Herein lies one of the principal difficulties. A
patient comes to Minnesota, and, having heard much of its power to
restore the enfeebled, expects to become strong and well within a few
days. They should disabuse their minds of this error before they start
from home. The process of restoration with the consumptive is slow, as a
rule, though some recover, it is true, very rapidly, yet with the most a
year is as little time as can reasonably be expected for climate and
exercise to complete a cure. It is better, if the climate is found to
agree, to make the State a permanent home. A return to the old climate
and occupation in which the disease originated is only to court its
reappearance.

Lake Minnetonka, the place first above mentioned, is, however, _the_
point for both pleasure-seekers and invalids who are well enough to
"rough it." An hour's ride from St. Paul brings you to this, the most
lovely of all the lakes in the State, to our thinking. It is really a
series of lakes, all bounded by irregular shores; while, in places,
occur deep bays and inlets, giving picturesqueness and beauty beyond all
ordinary fancyings.

Near the railway station are two hotels (the furthest being the best),
where good fare, and at reasonable rates, can be had, with row-boats
thrown in, _ad libitum_. This lake is one of the pleasure resorts for
the people of both St. Paul and Minneapolis. Excursion tickets are sold
for every train running thither, and many go up simply to enjoy a day's
fishing and sailing.

There is a little steamer running from near the railway station, which
is close to the edge of the lake, to the village of Excelsior, six
miles distant, near which lives one of the best guides to the fishing
grounds of the lake. But a guide is not at all essential to the amateur,
or those in simple quest of fun, pleasure, or health, since the fish
here are so plentiful that all will have luck, whether they have
experience or not.

Near "Round Island," and off "Spirit Knob," in this lake, are favorite
haunts of the fish, yet the "big ones" are not plentiful now at these
points, though their resorts are well known to most of the old
fishermen.

To tell of the size and abundance of the fish here will, perhaps, court
disbelief; yet we state "what we know," when we say that a single
fisherman starting, with the "guide" before referred to, at eight
o'clock in the morning, came to the wharf at noon--after rowing a
distance of six miles to make port--with a catch of about one hundred
weight of fish, chiefly pickerel, one of which weighed twelve pounds,
and measured near three feet in length. Another and less successful
party of two, instead of catching a "big one," came near being caught by
him. It was a funny incident altogether. They were from "down east,"
where pickerel don't weigh over a pound or so, on the average, unless
fed on _shot_ after being hauled in, all out of pure regard for the
hungry and worried creatures, of course. Well, this party, all
enthusiastic and eager, cast the line, when, lo! a monster pickerel
gobbled the bait and away he went, carrying the floats under and the
fisherman over and into the watery deep, with his heel and head just
above water level only. The fish, including the "odd one," were
subsequently pulled in by the man in the boat who is accustomed to
"takes."

Boarding can be had, at the hotels and private houses in the vicinity of
the lake, at from seven to ten dollars per week. For the summer season,
country life should by all means be the rule. In the inclement portions
of the year the towns are most desirable; St. Paul and Minneapolis
taking the lead as places of resort, and they are, at these seasons, the
most desirable.

In the vicinity of St. Paul there are a number of lakes. The nearest,
Lake Como, is a pretty sheet of water, and affords one of the
fashionable drives out of the city. It is intended, we believe, in the
near future, by the authorities of St. Paul, to incorporate it, with
several hundred acres, into a grand park and pleasure-grounds. It should
be done.

White Bear Lake, a dozen miles out on the Lake Superior and M. Railroad,


 


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