CHAPTER VII.
Irrigation of the Assimilative and Eliminative Organs.
The habits of people in general do not seem so bad when one considers the average individual’s limitations as to knowledge and thought. The fact is that most people don’t know, don’t think, and hence don’t care. Let them read more science, think more sensibly, and act more seriously; then their habits will be more satisfactory.
The alimentary receptacle—the stomach or vat in which foods and liquids are received and mixed—is habitually converted by many persons into a chemical retort for all sorts of drugs and remedies, with the view of reaching and relieving the ills of the various organs of the body, from dandruff to corns. The writer believes that he can give more and better reasons for his confidence in the therapeutic value of remedies than most other physicians, but he wishes to emphasize here the transcendent importance of common sense in their administration. Before and above all else, however, what is wanted is a clean gastro-intestinal canal; and his claim is that water, properly used, is the best agent to effect that cleansing. On a par with this canal in importance are the eliminative tissues and organs of the system: the kidneys, mucous membrane, and skin. What therapeutic agent, properly used, is better than water? After all the assimilative and eliminative organs and tissues have been thoroughly rinsed with pure, soft water, then, if it be still necessary to administer a chemical agent, one may be selected that will, with these organs and tissues in better condition, work wonders. If you are so foolish as to allow yourself to become foul from head to foot, cleanse yourself with water before resorting to chemical aids.
Somehow or other the mass of even intelligent people, not to speak of the great mass of the ignorant, and I may add even my co-workers in the healing art, are not aware of the supreme want and worth of water for internal and external therapeutic purposes; they do not realize how the stomach, the bowels, and the kidneys cry for it in their neglected and infected condition.
The stomach serves as a convenient receptacle to dump things into after the palate has been entertained and pleased—and about everything is swallowed but pure, soft water. As a rule the stomach takes very kindly to water. It is, moreover, not so piggish as to absorb it all and leave its surface in a foul condition, covered with ropy, slimy products of imperfect digestion. Immediately after deglutition of water, the stomach does just what it ought to do: its muscles contract and dump the contents of the stomach into the duodenum, where the principal act of digestion is accomplished.
As its name implies, the stomach (stow-make) is a receptacle made for the purpose of storing stuffs for nutrition. Here they are mixed and broken up somewhat, and then deposited in the second or real digestive apparatus—the duodenum. This latter organ requires water and organic fluids in liberal quantities for its digestive operations. Both organs need cleansing after they have finished their work, and the digestive and assimilative vessels require water, not only to convey the building material to their harbors, but also to eliminate effectually the worn-out tissues and the residuals of the digestive process.
It has been said that were man to discover heaven (a clean and healthy locality) he would at once convert it into a hell (a vile and filthy one). Man is possessed of an organism of whose constituent elements water forms over eighty per cent. The alvine discharges ought to contain the same percentage of water, if not more. The mucous membrane and skin, to be kept clean, soft, fresh, plump, moist, and free from odors, require their appropriate irrigation. Man may keep himself clean, both inside and out, by irrigating himself before each meal daily. The well-watered and well-washed body and brain constitute a heaven on earth for the indwelling spirit that needs these for its manifestation.