Read Ebook: A Lecture on the Preservation of Health by Garnett Thomas

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This vital air is received by animals into their lungs, gives them their heat, and communicates a red colour to their blood; when animals die for want of vital air, their blood is always found black.

From what I have said, it is evident, that in large and populous towns, where combustion and respiration are continually performed on a large scale, the air must be much less pure than in the country, where there are few of these causes to contaminate the atmosphere, and where vegetables are continually tending to render it more pure; and if it was not for the winds which agitate this element, and constantly occasion its change of place, the air of large towns would probably soon become unfit for respiration. Winds bring us the pure air of the country, and take away that from which the vital air has been in a great measure extracted; but still, from the immense quantity of fuel which is daily burnt, and the number of people breathing in large towns, the air very soon becomes impure.

From the greater purity of the air in the country, proceeds the rosy bloom found in the rural cottage, which we in vain look for in the stately palace, or the splendid drawing room. Here then are reasons for preferring the country, which no one will dispute, and whenever it can be done, such a situation ought always to be chosen in preference to a large town: this cannot be better enforced than in the words of Dr. Armstrong.--

'Ye, who amid the feverish world would wear 'a body free of pain, of cares a mind; 'fly the rank city, shun its turbid air; 'breathe not the chaos of eternal smoke, 'and volatile corruption, from the dead, 'the dying, sick'ning, and the living world 'exhaled, to sully heaven's transparent dome 'with dim mortality.

'While yet you breathe, away; the rural wilds 'invite; the mountains call you, and the vales; 'the woods, the streams, and each ambrosial breeze 'that fans the ever undulating sky.'

Large towns are the graves of the human species; they would perish in a few generations, if not constantly recruited from the country. The confined, putrid air, which most of their inhabitants breathe, their want of natural exercise, but above all their dissipation, shorten their lives, and ruin their constitutions.

Children particularly, require a pure air; every circumstance points out the country as the proper place for their education; the purity of the air, the variety of rustic sports, the plainness of diet, the simplicity and innocence of manners, all concur to recommend it. It is a melancholy fact, that above half the children born in London, die before they are two years old.

To shew how indispensable fresh air is to children, I shall mention one example which sets the fact in the clearest light. In the lying-in hospital at Dublin, 2944 infants, out of 7650, died in the year 1782, within the first fortnight after their birth, which is nearly every third child; they almost all died in convulsions; many of them foamed at the mouth, their thumbs were drawn into the palms of their hands, their jaws were locked, the face was swelled and looked blue, as though they were choaked. This last circumstance led the physicians to conclude that the rooms in the hospital were too close, and hence, that the infants had not a sufficient quantity of good air to breathe; they therefore set about ventilating them better, which was done very completely. The consequence has been, that not one child dies now where three used to die.

Fewer children indeed die convulsed now, than formerly; this is because the rich learn, either from books, or conversation with physicians, how necessary fresh air is to life and health; hence they keep their houses well aired; but the poor, and servants, are not made to comprehend this matter properly; and therefore from neglecting to open their windows, and breathing a foul, tainted air, the greatest part of their time, many disorders are brought on, and others rendered worse than they naturally would be.

Having considered the purity of the air, let us next take a view of the changes in temperature which it undergoes, and the effects which these have upon the constitution.

We find the air sometimes considerably below the freezing point; nay, even so much as 20 or 30 degrees; it is then intensely cold; and on the other hand, the thermometer sometimes indicates a great degree of heat. We then find ourselves much relaxed, and our constitutions exhausted.

To understand how this happens, let us consider for a moment the nature of heat, and cold.--Heat is one of those stimuli which act upon the excitability, and support life: for if it was totally withdrawn, we should not be able to exist even a few minutes; and cold is only a diminution of heat. When heat is present, in a proper degree, or the atmosphere is about that degree of heat which we call temperate, it just gives such a stimulus, and keeps the excitability exhausted to such a degree, as to preserve the body in health; but if it continue for a considerable time to be much warmer than this temperature, the consequence must be, from the laws already laid down, an exhaustion of the excitability, and a consequent relaxation and debility; for, when the excitability has been exhausted by the violent application of heat, long continued, the common stimulant powers which support life, cannot produce a sufficient effect upon it, to give to the body that tone which is compatible with health. On the contrary, when the heat of the air falls below what we call temperate, or when cold is applied to the body, from the accustomed stimulus of heat being diminished, the excitability must accumulate, or become more liable to be affected by the action of the external powers.

This, however, very seldom produces bad effects, unless the exciting powers be improperly or quickly applied; for we can bear a considerable diminution of heat without any bad consequences; and in all cases I hope I shall be able to make it appear, that much more mischief arises from the too great action of heat, than from the diminution of it. Nature never made any country too cold for its inhabitants. In cold climates, she has made exercise, and even fatigue habitual to them, not only from the necessity of their situation, but from choice; their natural diversions being all of the athletic or violent kind. But the softness and effeminacy of modern manners, has both deprived us of our natural defence against the diseases most incident to our climate, and subjected us to all the inconveniencies of a warm one.

People are afraid of going out into the cold air; but if they conduct themselves properly afterwards, they will never be in the least danger from it. Indeed the action of cold, unless it be excessive, never produces any bad effects.

When you take a ride into the country on a cold day, you find yourselves very cold; as soon as you go into a house, you are invited to come to the fire, and warm yourselves; and what is still worse, to drink something warm and comfortable, to keep out the cold, as the saying is. The inevitable consequence of this, is, to bring on the complaints which I have just described, which might with more propriety be called, heats than colds. But how easily might these complaints have been avoided! When you come out of a very cold atmosphere, you should not at first go into a room that has a fire in it, or if you cannot avoid that, you should keep for a considerable time at as great a distance from the fire as possible, that the accumulated excitability may be gradually exhausted, by the moderate and gentle action of heat; and then you may bear the heat of the fire without any danger: but, above all, refrain from taking warm or strong liquors while you are cold. If a person have his hands or feet exposed to a very severe cold, the excitability of those parts will be so much accumulated, that if they should be brought suddenly near the fire, a violent inflammation, and even a mortification will take place, which has often happened; or, at any rate, that inflammation called Chilblains will be produced, from the violent action of the heat upon the accumulated excitability of those parts; but, if a person so circumstanced, was to put his hands or feet into cold water, very little warmer than the atmosphere to which he had been exposed, or rub them with snow, which is not often colder than 32 or 30 degrees, the morbid excitability will be gradually exhausted, and no bad consequences will ensue.

When a part of the body only has been exposed to the action of cold, and the rest kept heated; if, for instance, a person in a warm room sits so that a current of air coming through a broken pane, should fall upon any part of the body, that part will be soon affected with an inflammation, which is usually called a rheumatic inflammation. From what has been said, it will be easy to account for this circumstance. The excitability of the part is accumulated by the diminution of its heat; but at the same time, the rest of the body and blood is warm; and this warm blood acting upon a part where the excitability is accumulated, will cause an inflammation; to which, the more you apply heat, the worse you make it.--From these considerations, we may lay it down as a fact, and experience supports us in so doing, that you may in general go out of warm into cold air without much danger; but, that you can never return suddenly from the cold into the warm air with perfect impunity.

But if, for want of observing this necessary caution, a cold, as it is called, should have seized a person, let us consider what is proper to be done.

It will, from the preceding reasoning, appear very improper to make the room where you sit warmer than usual, to increase the quantity of bed-clothes, to wrap yourself up in flannel, or particularly to drink a large quantity of barley-water, gruel, or tea, almost boiling hot, by way of diluting, as it is called, and forcing a perspiration; this will infallibly make the disorder worse, in the same manner as confining inoculated persons in warm rooms would make their small-pox more violent.

Perhaps there would be scarcely such a thing as a bad cold, if people, when they found it coming on, were to keep cool, and avoid wine and strong liquors, and confine themselves for a short time to a simple diet of vegetable food, drinking only toast and water. Instances are by no means uncommon, where a heat of the nostrils, difficulty of breathing, a short, tickling cough, and other symptoms, threatening a violent cold, have gone off entirely in consequence of this plan being pursued.

Colds would be much less frequent, were we to take more pains to accommodate our dress to the season: if we were warmly clothed in cold weather, our excitability would not be accumulated by the action of the cold. If a greater proportion of females fall victims to this disease, is it not because, losing sight, more than men, of its primary purpose, they regulate their dress solely by fantastic ideas of elegance? If happily, as is observed by Dr. Beddoes, our regret should recall the age of chivalry, to break the spell of fashion would be an atchievement worthy the most gallant of our future knights. Common sense has always failed in the adventure; and our ladies, alas! are still compelled, whenever the enchantress waves her wand, to expose themselves half undressed, to the fogs and frosts of our climate.

Besides the effects of the air, we ought by no means to be indifferent with regard to what we take into the stomach as food and drink; since these have even a greater influence on our health, than the circumstances I have already mentioned. Among the causes which excite the body, and support life, I have formerly mentioned food, or the matters taken into the stomach. It is from these matters that all the animal solids and fluids are formed; these are stimuli, which if totally withdrawn, we could not exist many days. These stimuli are subject to the same laws with all the others which act upon the body. When they act properly in concert with the other powers, they produce the healthy state; but if they act in an undue degree, whether that action be too great or too little, disease will be the consequence. When they act too feebly, the excitability will accumulate; and diseases of debility, attended with a very great degree of irritability, will take place: this has been instanced in those who have been without food for some time. Persons who have been shut up in a coal-work by the falling-in of the pit, and have consequently been without food for some days, have had their excitability so much accumulated, as to be intoxicated with a bason of broth.

To this source we may attribute many of the diseases with which the poor are afflicted; but they are by no means so common as diseases of an opposite nature, which arise from a too free use of food. I shall confine myself here to the consideration of what is more strictly called food, and afterwards consider the effects of strong liquors.

When we take food in too great quantity, or of too nourishing a quality, it will either produce inflammatory diseases, such as pleurisy; or by exhausting the excitability, it will bring on stomach complaints, gout, and all the symptoms of premature old age. This follows so evidently from the laws we have investigated, that it is scarcely necessary to say more on the subject; and I am sure there are few who have not seen examples of it.

Be therefore temperate in eating, and eat only of such foods as are the plainest; and let a proper quantity of vegetable food be mixed with animal. If you value the preservation of health, never satiate yourselves with eating; but let it be a rule from which you ought never to depart, always to rise from table with some remains of appetite: for, when the stomach is loaded with more food than it can easily digest, a crude and unassimilated chyle is taken into the blood, pregnant with diseases. Nor is the quantity the only object of attention; the quality of the food is to be carefully studied; made dishes, enriched with hot sauces, stimulate infinitely more than plain food, and therefore exhaust the excitability, bringing on diseases of indirect debility; such as the worst kind of gout, apoplexy, and paralytic complaints. "For my part," says an elegant writer, "when I behold a fashionable table set out in all its magnificence, I fancy that I see gouts and dropsies, fevers and lethargies, with other innumerable distempers, lying in ambuscade among the dishes." Let it be therefore laid down as a rule by those who wish to preserve their health, and I have nothing to say to those who are indifferent on that head, to make their chief repast on one plain dish, and trifle with the rest.

It is by no means uncommon for a medical man to have patients, chiefly among people of fashion and fortune, who complain of being hot and restless all night, and having a foul taste in the mouth every morning: on examination it is found, that in nineteen cases out of twenty, it has arisen from their having overloaded their stomachs, and at the same time neglected to take proper exercise; for it must always be observed, that more may be eaten with safety, nay, more is even necessary, when a person takes a good deal of exercise.

When people take little exercise, and overload their stomachs, there lies within them a fermenting mass of undigested aliment; and it is not surprizing that this should irritate and heat the body during the night. This is likewise the foundation of stomach complaints, flatulencies, and all other symptoms of indigestion; which more frequently proceed from intemperance in eating and drinking than any other cause. The benefits arising from temperance are set in a striking light in the following allegory, which may be found in the Adventurer.

Esculapius, after his deification or admittance among the gods, having revisited his native country, and being one day in danger of being benighted, made the best of his way to a house he saw at some distance, where he was hospitably received by the master of it. Cremes, for that was the master's name, though but a young man, was infirm and sickly. Of several dishes served up to supper, Cremes observed that his guest ate but of one, and that the most simple; nor could all his intreaties prevail upon him to do otherwise. He was, notwithstanding, highly delighted with Esculapius's conversation, in which he observed a cheerfulness and knowledge superior to any thing he had hitherto met with.

The next morning, Esculapius took his leave, but not till he had engaged his good-natured host to pay him a visit at a small villa, a few miles from thence. Cremes came accordingly, and was most kindly received; but how great was his amazement when supper was served up, to see nothing but milk, honey, and a few roots, dressed in the plainest, but neatest manner, to which hunger, cheerfulness, and good sense, were the only sauces. Esculapius seemed to eat with pleasure, while Cremes scarcely tasted of them. On which a repast was ordered more suitable to the taste of our guest. Immediately there succeeded a banquet composed of the most artful dishes that luxury could invent, with great plenty and variety of the richest and most intoxicating wines. These too were accompanied by damsels of the most bewitching beauty. Cremes now gave a loose to his appetites, and every thing he tasted raised ecstasies beyond what he had ever known. During the repast, the damsels sung and danced to entertain them; their charms enchanted the enraptured guest, already flushed with what he had drank; his senses were lost in ecstatic confusion. Every thing around him seemed Elysium, and he was on the point of indulging the most boundless freedoms, when on a sudden their beauty, which was but a vizard, fell off, and discovered forms the most hideous and forbidding imaginable. Lust, revenge, folly, murder, meagre poverty, and despair, now appeared in the most odious shapes, and the place instantly became a most dire scene of misery and confusion. How often did Cremes wish himself far distant from such a diabolical company, and now dreaded the fatal consequence which threatened him. His blood ran chill at his heart, and joy and rapture were perverted to amazement and horror!--When Esculapius perceived it had made a sufficient impression on his guest, he thus addressed him: "Know, Cremes, it is Esculapius who has thus entertained you, and what you have beheld is a true image of the deceitfulness and misery inseparable from luxury and intemperance. Would you be happy, be temperate: temperance is the parent of health, virtue, wisdom, plenty, and every thing that can make you happy in this or the world to come. It is indeed the true luxury of life, for without it life cannot be enjoyed." This said, he disappeared, and left Cremes in an open plain, full of ideas quite different from those he had brought with him.

On his return home, from the most luxurious, he became one of the most temperate men, by which wise method he soon regained health. Frugality produced riches, and from an infirm and crazy constitution, and almost ruined estate, by virtue of this infallible elixir, he became one of the happiest men breathing, and lived to a healthy old age, revered as an oracle for his wisdom throughout all Greece.

If temperance be necessary with regard to food, it is still more so with respect to strong liquors; these diffusible stimuli, by quickly exhausting the excitability, soon blast the vigour, and sap the foundation of the strongest constitution. Their immediate effects you know are stimulant; they raise the animal spirits, produce a cheerful state of mind, and if taken in greater quantity, cause intoxication, or that temporary derangement of the thinking powers which arises from too great a degree of excitement: but let us see what happens the next day; the animal spirits are exhausted, and the person thus situated, finds himself languid and enervated to a great degree; for it seems a law of the human body, that the spirits are never artificially raised, without being afterwards proportionably depressed; and to shew clearly that in this state the excitability is exhausted, the ordinary powers which in general support life, will not have their due effect; and a person thus situated finds most relief the next day, from taking some of the same stimulus which occasioned the exhaustion; because the common exciting powers can scarcely act upon his exhausted excitability.

But though the excitability be in this way exhausted, it will in the course of a day or two be again accumulated, and it may, perhaps, be suspected that this exhaustion can do no harm to the constitution; but this is a premature conclusion, and quite contrary to fact and experience, as well as to reason; for, just in the same manner that a pendulum, made to vibrate in the arc of a circle, will never return exactly to the same height, but fall a little short of it every time; so, though the excitability may be again accumulated, it never can be brought back to what it was before; and every fresh debauch will shorten life, probably two or three weeks at least, besides debilitating the body, and bringing on a variety of diseases, with premature old age.

Those who drink only a moderate quantity of wine, so as to make them cheerful, as they call it, but not absolutely to intoxicate, may imagine that it will do them no harm. The strong and robust may enjoy the pleasures of the bottle and table with seeming impunity, and sometimes for many years may not find any bad effects from them; but depend upon it, if a full diet of animal food be every day indulged in, with only a moderate portion of wine, its baneful influence will blast the vigour of the strongest constitution.

While we are eating, water is the best beverage. The custom of drinking fermented liquors, and particularly wine, during dinner, is a very pernicious one. The idea that it assists digestion, is false; those who are acquainted with chemistry know, that food is hardened, and rendered less digestible by these means, and the stimulus which wine gives to the stomach is not necessary, excepting to those who have exhausted the excitability of that organ by the excessive use of strong liquors. In these. The stomach can scarcely be excited to any action without the assistance of such a stimulus. If food wants diluting, water is the best diluent, and will prevent the rising, as it is called, of strong food, much better than wine or spirits.

Before I finish this subject, I shall say a few words on the pernicious custom of suffering children to drink wine, or other fermented liquors. Nothing is more common than to see, even very young children come to the table after dinner, to drink a glass of wine. The least quantity produces violent effects on their accumulated excitability, and by quickly exhausting it, ruins their constitutions through life, and often renders them habitual drinkers.

I can scarcely help attributing in some degree the many stomach complaints we meet with, among young people in the present age, and which were unknown to our forefathers, to the abominable practice of suffering children to drink fermented, or spirituous liquors. You must all have observed how soon children are intoxicated and inflamed by spirituous liquors; you may judge then, that if these liquors be only a slow poison to us, they are a very quick one to them. A glass of wine, on account of the accumulated excitability of children, will have more effect upon them, than a bottle will have upon an adult accustomed to drink wine. If therefore, the health of a child, and its happiness through life be an object, never suffer it to taste fermented, or spirituous liquors, till it be fifteen or sixteen years of age, unless a little wine be necessary as a medicine.

It now only remains for me to take some notice of exercise. Of all the various methods of preserving health, and of preventing diseases, which nature has suggested, there is none more efficacious than exercise; it puts the fluids all in motion, strengthens the solids, promotes perspiration, and occasions the decomposition of a larger quantity of atmospheric air in the lungs. Hence, in order to preserve the health of the body, the author of nature has made exercise absolutely necessary to the greater part of mankind for obtaining the means of existence.--Had not exercise been absolutely necessary for our well-being, says the elegant Addison, nature would not have made the body so proper for it, by giving such an activity to the limbs, and such a pliancy to every part, as necessarily produce those compressions, extensions, contortions, dilatations, and all other kinds of motions, that are necessary for the preservation of such a system of tubes and glands.--And that we might not want inducement to engage us in such exercise of the body as is proper for its welfare, it is so ordered, that nothing valuable can be procured without it. Not to mention riches and honors, even food and raiment are not to be come at without the toil of the hands and sweat of the brow. Providence furnishes materials, but expects that we should work them up ourselves. The earth must be laboured before it gives its increase, and when it is forced into its several products, how many hands must they pass through before they are fit for use? Manufactures, trade, and agriculture, naturally employ more than nineteen parts of the species out of twenty; and as for those who are not obliged to labour by the condition in which they are born, they are more miserable than the rest of mankind, unless they indulge themselves in that voluntary labour which goes by the name of exercise.

Of all the different kinds of exercise, there is none that conduces so much to health as riding; it is not attended with the fatigue of walking, and the free air is more enjoyed in this way than by any other mode of exercise. Where it cannot be used, walking, or exercise in a carriage, ought to be substituted.

The best time for taking exercise is before dinner, for the body is then more vigorous and alert, and the mind more cheerful, and better disposed to enjoy the pleasure of a ride or walk. Exercise after a full meal disturbs digestion, and causes painful sensations in the stomach and bowels, with heart-burn, and acid eructations.

But whatever mode of exercise you use, it ought not at first to be too violent. Dr. Armstrong has given us an excellent rule--

'Begin with gentle toils, and as your nerves 'grow firm, to hardier, by just steps aspire. 'The prudent, even in every moderate walk, 'at first but saunter, and by slow degrees 'increase their pace.'

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