Gross vapours would the springs of life pervade,
And make the brightest human blossom fade.”
Dr. Barron, among a series of experiments, confined a number of young rabbits in a close damp situation; many of the animals died at intervals varying from five to seven weeks from the time of their incarceration. On the removal of the survivors to dry localities, which were otherwise favourable to health from being well ventilated, their condition soon became manifestly improved. This fact has been further confirmed by the experiments of Sir James Clark and Dr. (now Sir Robert) Carswell and Dr. Jenner.
In a report of the sickness which occurred among the Edinburgh Police, as drawn up by the medical attendant, the effects of an ill-ventilated station-house are noticed. It furnishes an additional example, if such were needed, of the importance of pure air and plenty of it. The men boarded and lodged in this place were originally the healthiest and youngest men in the force; yet the rate of sickness among them was very high, as was also the mortality—being more than treble that of the other part of the force located elsewhere. Out of thirty-seven men occupying the house in question, only one was found to be free from functional disorder: the prominent symptoms being great sensibility to atmospheric changes, copious cold perspirations, a constant sense of fatigue, with pain in the eye-balls and loss of appetite.
It would appear that in all propositions for sanitary improvements, the all-engrossing topic is—the noxious properties of stinking vapours. The cesspools and sewers seem to be the chief object of solicitude, even in legislative proceedings; as though there were no deleterious gases surrounding our globe, inappreciable to the olfactories, and yet of far more consequence in a sanitary point of view. Now, although vapours arising from cesspools and imperfect drainage unquestionably constitute one of the many predisposing causes to disease, they are not of such paramount importance as ventilation; for their noxious influence, from whatever source they may arise, depends more or less on their existence in open or confined places. The indefatigable Parent Duchâtelet, in his work on ‘Hygiene Publique,’ has shown that stenches, filthy exhalations, however disgusting, are not necessarily the cause of disease, when not pent up, as à priori they might be supposed to be. He informs us that at one of the most extensive ‘Chantierres d’Equarrissages,’ situated at Montfauçon, within a mile or two of Paris, occupying a large open space of ground, where thousands of horses, dogs, and cats are taken yearly to be slaughtered, and where almost all the ordure of Paris is collected together, the most abominable stenches are to be met with: the ground, saturated with the blood of the slaughtered animals, sends forth a most disgusting fœtor, as do also the enormous mounds of putrid flesh collected for the purposes of manure, and for the generation of maggots for feeding poultry! Yet the workmen living and employed in these places, in the filthy occupation of glue and music-string making, &c., enjoy an immunity from disease that is truly astonishing, while their exemption from illness during the destructive prevalence of cholera in Paris was equally remarkable. The existence of such disgusting nuisances, as represented by Duchatelet, can by no means be approved of; but reference to them is made here to show, by well-ascertained facts, that the remedying of the effluvia arising from imperfect drainage, cesspools, et hoc genus omne, is not of such VITAL importance as the free admission of the atmosphere; for we have seen that stagnant air is caused by the want of a free current, and that it is rendered more humid than usual by the non-admission of light (which is heat), and further that that humidity increases the activity of noxious gases, so that where ventilation is defective, there will always be an accumulation, and consequently a concentration, of the gases from cesspools, exhalations from the body by expiration, and from the skin; all these facts, physiologically considered, will show the vast importance of the access of light and of pure air, on which all sanitary measures, to be effective, must be based. Ventilation, by striking at the root of the mischief, will remedy all its evil consequences.
Again, it must be recollected that the object of ventilation is not solely to dissipate and get rid of odours offensive to the olfactories, but also to supply the system with a vital stimulus—the very pabulum vitæ—the oxygen necessary for the proper performance of the functions of the different organs, which cannot be obtained in due proportion from stagnant air—the supply in such an atmosphere from defective circulation being inadequate to the demand or consumption. When an animal is inclosed in a limited quantity of atmospheric air, it dies as soon as the oxygen has been consumed; and no other air will maintain animal life but oxygen, or a mixture which contains it in a certain proportion. Further, ventilation, by supplying the vital stimulus, and inducing a normal condition, also fortifies the system against atmospheric vicissitudes—the grand excitant of disease.
Opening up and enlarging drains, or establishing them where none had previously existed, while the localities are allowed to remain in a crowded state, will, while such operations are being carried on, multiply the evil. A commencement must be made by rasing to the ground the dens of physical and moral iniquity which have been so disgracefully permitted to exist in the occupancy of those unfortunates who have it not in their power to remedy the miseries to which it never was the intention of Creative Wisdom that the meanest reptile should be subjected, much less Man, once the image of his Creator,—His noblest work!
The subjects of Light and Air having been disposed of, we will next discuss the properties of Water:
“That chief ingredient in Heaven’s various works,
Where flexile genius sparkles in the gem,