Let our readers bear in mind the following aphorism of Dr. Hall: “Close bed rooms make the graves of multitudes;” let them recollect that impure blood is the origin of consumption, and that impure air causes impure blood.
Carrying out these principles, in curing consumption, Dr. Barter would use all means to place the system in a favourable condition to receive a full supply of oxygen, first, by a direct inhalation of a mixture of oxygen and atmospheric air through the lungs; secondly, by enjoining a large amount of active exercise in the open air, when practicable, and sleeping at night with open windows; and thirdly, by inducing a healthy action of the skin,[11] and consequent supply, through it, of oxygen to the blood, by the intervention of the Turkish bath. This mode of treatment has, we believe, proved most successful, whilst the old mode of treatment, of which it is the very antipodes, viz., keeping the patient in a heated and impure atmosphere, swathing him with flannels,[12] dosing him [[25]]with prussic acid, and applying a respirator to the mouth, has proved most unsuccessful and fatal. How it could ever have entered into the brain of a physician to recommend the use of a respirator, as a cure for consumption, we are at a loss to imagine, as a more ingenious mode of shutting out the pure atmosphere, essential to our existence, and exchanging it for one loaded with carbonic acid (thus aggravating the disease which it seeks to cure), could not possibly be devised. Man, in a state of health, requires pure air as a condition of his existence; and can it be supposed that, in a state of disease, he will be able, more successfully, to resist the effects of poison on his system than when in a state of health? Will he, in a state of disease, be strengthened and improved by the loss of that, on a due supply of which, when well, the continuance of his health and strength would depend? Does the experience of our readers furnish them with a single case of recovery from consumption caused by the use of a respirator, or does it not, on the contrary, furnish them, in every case where it has been resorted to, with instances of the bad effects attendant upon its use?
In support of the view taken by Dr. Barter, we would observe, that narrow and contracted lungs, an impure atmosphere, uncleanly habits, sedentary occupation, indulgence in alcoholic liquors, and over eating, all directly tend to the overloading of the blood with carbon, and they are also the most constant causes of consumption. But the success attending this treatment is the argument which will have most weight with the public, and cause its adoption by the profession at large. When this takes place we shall not have consumptive patients sent abroad to seek restoration of their health—
“To Nice, where more native persons die of consumption than in any English town of equal population—to Madeira, where no local disease is more prevalent than consumption—to Malta, where one-third of the deaths amongst our troops are caused by consumption—to Naples, whose hospitals record a mortality, from consumption, of one in two and one-third of the patients—nor, finally, to Florence, where pneumonia is said to be marked by a suffocating character, and a rapid progress towards its final stage. Sir James Clarke has assailed with much force the doctrine, that change of climate is beneficial in cases of consumption. M. Carriere, a French physician, has written strongly against it. Dr. Burgess, an eminent Scotch physician, also contends that climate has little or nothing to do with the cure of consumption, and that if it had, the curative effects would be produced through the skin and not the lungs, by opening the pores, and promoting a better aeration of the blood.”
With respect to the administering of prussic acid, to lower [[26]]the pulse in consumption, we cannot TOO STRONGLY reprobate this mistaken practice. Do physicians, when prescribing this poison, ever reflect that this elevation of the pulse, which they employ themselves so sedulously to lower, is an effort of nature to supply more oxygen to the system by an increased action of the lungs, and that the more the lungs are injured by disease, the greater is this compensating effort of nature: just as a blacksmith must work a small or defective bellows more rapidly than a large one, to keep his fire going. If this be the case, the destructive effects of prussic acid will at once be evident, since by it all the powers of the system become reduced, and nature’s efforts at self-relief most mischievously obstructed. The feverish action of the pulse is, in itself, of no moment; it is only as a symptom of derangement in the system that it becomes alarming; it is nature telling us that something is wrong by the very action which she is establishing to cure it. What then must be thought of a practice which silences the tell-tale pulse, stops the voice of nature, and checks her curative efforts, without attempting to cure the disorder; doing immense mischief, whilst it effects no good? The fact is, the only reduction of the pulse which is worth a farthing, is that which follows naturally from removing the cause of its elevation, viz., a want of oxygen in the system. That the supplying of this want has the effect of lowering the consumptive pulse, without the assistance of prussic acid, is abundantly proved by the rapid fall of the pulse produced by the Turkish bath,—a result most satisfactory to the physiologist, as evidencing the soundness of the theory which prescribes it as a remedy.
Having referred to the erroneous practice of swathing consumptive patients in flannel, it may not be out of place here to make a few observations on the origin of caloric in the animal system, and the office of clothing in relation to it.
The only true source of caloric in animals, is that produced by the chemical combination of oxygen with the carbon and other oxidizable products of their system. Every cause which quickens and exalts this chemical action increases the animal heat, whilst every interfering cause produces cold and chilliness. It is in this way that drinking cold water, or taking exercise in the open air, increases the warmth of the body, by producing a healthy[13] waste of the system, and so stimulating the chemical [[27]]combustion within it. Clothing, it should be recollected, has merely the effect of retaining animal heat and preventing its dissipation, but it cannot, in the slightest degree, create it: if, therefore, any thing occurs to interfere with that action, by which heat can alone be generated, all the clothes in the world will fail to warm us. How little these facts are reflected on, is shown by the excessive and injurious amount of clothing worn by delicate persons, which defeats the very object they are intended to effect. These facts also explain the apparent paradox of patients who, previous to undergoing the water system, complain of chilliness when smothered with clothing, but who afterwards are enabled to wear very light clothing, without any feeling of their former chilliness.[14] On this subject Dr. Gully observes:—
“Should, however, the reader desire to learn the most effectual way of destroying the power of generating animal heat, let him pursue the plan which so many shivering patients who come to Malvern have followed. Let him drink spirits and wine, eat condiments, swallow purgatives, and especially mercurials, take a ‘course of iodine,’ and, as an occasional interlude, lose a little blood, and we stake our reputation that he will shiver to his heart’s content, and find himself many degrees lower in the scale of Fahrenheit than cold water, cool air, early rising, and exercise can possibly make him.”
Before leaving this subject, we would entreat our readers seriously to consider the observations we have addressed to them, and the facts which we have adduced in support of the mode of treatment which we have advocated. The subject is one of serious moment, since, on this disease being rightly understood, the lives of millions of our countrymen depend. If a rational mode of treatment be adopted, its fearful ravages may be successfully encountered and stayed, but if not, the gaunt spectre will stalk as hitherto, unchecked through the length and breadth of our island, dealing death to millions of its sons.
With regard to water drinking, an important part of the Hydropathic process, and against which much prejudice exists, the following extracts from the pen of the justly celebrated Allopathic physician, Sir Henry Holland, will not, we hope, be considered out of place. In his work styled “Medical Notes and Reflections,” treating of “Diluents,” he thus writes: