BATHING.
Somebody has said, that God gives shower baths to every thing that will stay out doors. A very significant hint, this, to human bipeds; it seems very strange that we are such dull scholars, in this world. We see the fevered earth parch, and burn, and fail of its fruits, till the refreshing rain comes down and cures it; and we never once think, when our blood boils, our flesh burns, and our skin parches with fever, that the same blessed medicine that is poured out on the earth, will heal us; or, if men get a little theoretical faith of this kind, they lose it as soon as they become sick. Early superstition, of all kinds, generally come upon men with peculiar force, when they are weakened and confused by illness.
There is no more invigorating process for preserving health, after the inhaling of pure air, than the daily use of the cold bath. The bath is not useful alone because it removes impurities from the skin; but the fresh, sparkling water, has an absolute life in it, which we receive. And this is the reason why the bath is so much more useful, when the water is just drawn from the fountain, than when it is suffered to stand, and lose its living, or electrical properties.
The best time to take a bath is in the morning, when we rise. No one should take a cold bath, as if he were lazily doing an unpleasant duty; and no one can do it long. Beginners with the bath, should observe the following directions: Bathe the head and face first; bathe the rest of the body thoroughly and quickly; then use much friction—first with a towel, and then with the hand, or a soft brush; this should be continued until the subject is in a glow.
Some people think there are so many difficulties in the way of bathing, that they cannot overcome them, and they believe they must, perforce, be like the dirty representative to an eastern legislature, who boasted that he had not bathed for fifteen years! Let us look at these difficulties, and we shall find that “where there is a will there is a way.” Anybody, that is anybody, can surely get a bowl of water, and a sponge, or towel; with these, he can take a thorough washing, and, if he has any energy, he can rub the body in a glow with a brush, a hand towel, or the hand.
There is no preventive of colds equal to this simple process, repeated every morning. It makes a man feel clean, bright, and respectable. The use of warm baths, except in particular cases of illness, is mischievous; they weaken the skin, and expose the person who takes them, to attacks of colds and influenza. Still, the occasional use of warm baths for cleaning the skin, is better than to allow the skin to be dirty. Shower baths are useful in cases where there is high health, or general inflammation; where there is full reactive power they are safe, and not otherwise; where they induce a chill, they are very hurtful. The indiscriminate recommendation of the shower bath, is always an evidence of very partial knowledge. The sponge bath is probably more universally beneficial, and is safer than any other bath.
HERB TEA.
Mr. N. had been married but a few weeks, and his bride was a lovely and accomplished lady. Her health was perfect; she had never known, by personal experience, what sickness is, and they were looking forward to the future with the most sanguine expectations of happiness. But disappointment is written upon all earthly hopes, and Mr. N. was not to be an exception from the general rule. His wife was suddenly taken with cholera. The family physician was called in, and did what he could to arrest the disease. But she continued to grow worse, and a council of doctors was called, to consult measures for her relief.
Mrs. N. had requested that a friend of hers, who had long been employed in nursing and doctoring those who had confidence in her—a lady of great talent and education in the art of curing with roots and herbs—to call in and see her. As this lady approached the house, and saw the carriages of the physicians, she became alarmed for the safety of her friend; but when she entered the house, the silence and sadness that reigned in that once happy mansion, sent a chill to her heart. Soon the doctors came out, one by one, and silently left the house. Mr. N. did not inquire their opinion of the condition of his wife—he could read it in their looks. After all had gone but the attending physician, Mr. N. and the nurse, Mrs. T., entered the room, where the patient lay, apparently in the last stage of the disease. The doctor rose from his seat beside the bed; as Mr. N. advanced and inquired, “Is there no hope?” he could hardly command his voice to tell that afflicted man, that his wife must die; and his gushing tears spoke his sympathy with the sufferer.
Mrs. T. looked for a moment upon the unconscious form of her friend, then, turning to the doctor, said,