The moral of all that I have been saying is to the effect that to nourish the humus and to till it are the inexorable duty of the sanitarian. This simple duty is the key to plentiful food and a good supply of wholesome water. Nature is relentless, and will sooner or later destroy those who neglect to follow her inexorable laws. We used to say that 'the weakest' (morally, physically, and mentally) 'must go to the wall.' Now we use the expression 'survival of the fittest' to express the same idea. Nature does not relent, but man, in his commendable efforts towards philanthropy, endeavours to relent, and hence the principle underlying much modern sanitary work is the attempt to bring about the survival of the unfittest. If I may judge from the criticisms to which at one time and another the ideas which I have put forward have been subjected, I may conclude that the principles advocated are considered right, but that the lowest classes of our population are not to be trusted to safeguard to any extent the wholesomeness of their homes. Therefore we are all asked to come down to the level of the dirtiest and most careless, and our sanitary methods (in which there is too much of Hercules and too little of Minerva) do not admit of any encouragement being given to those living within a municipal boundary who may be so circumstanced that they can adopt the principles I have advocated. No! we must all be tarred with the same brush, and no quarter is given to those who refuse to allow the municipality to be put to the trouble and expense of robbing them of stuff which they find invaluable on their own land. In Hampshire I have spent a considerable sum of money in freeing the river from some pollution and saving trouble to the town. Incidentally, I have improved the value of a house, and, of course, the rates of that house have been raised. Such a fact is a most effectual check upon the vast majority of those who might wish to imitate what they may approve of in principle, and I feel assured that no real advance in sanitation will be made until there is an equitable adjustment of sanitary rates and we have the right, if we desire it, to pay for water by meter. That water should be paid for according to rateable value, and that the rating authority and the water authority should be identical, seems to me to be an arrangement which the ratepayer will possibly find irksome. The greatest of sanitary troubles in the present day is overcrowding, and this trouble is greatly fostered by our methods of sanitation. And yet we find responsible persons suggesting that open spaces should be taxed at 'site value,' while at the same time they are willing to spend any amount of millions in bringing water from Wales because they think that eventually their dangerously dense population will have a density twice as great. We shall some day recognise the futility of fighting against Nature. It is the engineer's business to overcome natural obstacles, and we of the medical profession cannot but have the greatest admiration for the many distinguished members of that sister profession which, by its skill and daring, has in countless ways assisted the development of our commerce and manufactures. They have, indeed, 'expelled Nature with a pitchfork,' but it behoves us to remember the rest of the quotation. We must distinguish also between brilliancy of achievement and the end attained. We all of us admire the brilliant men who made the Thames Tunnel, built the 'Great Eastern' steamship, and gave us the luxury of the broad-gauge railway; but it is doubtful if the original shareholders in those enterprises would participate in our enthusiasm. Money will accomplish nearly anything in the engineering way, and it is not the engineer's business to consider the financial side of the question. I have always had a shrewd suspicion that Archimedes was possibly less admired by the Syracusan ratepayer than by the rest of the world, and I have often pondered whether, had he lived in these days, and had made his famous request of δὸς ποῦ στῶ, the Local Government Board would have sanctioned the issuing of a Syracusan 3 per cent. stock to provide the fulcrum for which he asked.
I frequently meet friends who say, 'I've been reading that article of yours about the earth,' and so forth, and then, after patting one on the back and being charmingly complimentary, they generally end by asserting that, after all, the convenience of the water-closet more than counteracts its disadvantages. The fascinations of this winsome apparatus seem unconquerable, and one is bound to confess that—provided the machine be of a good pattern and well made; provided the plumber who sets it has knowledge and a conscience; provided those who use it do not try its constitution with brickbats and old boots; provided there is not a frost; and provided there is not a drought—it does sweep out of the Cockney's house material of the use of which he is ignorant, and for which he has no market. All the difficulties and dangers of the water-closet are on the far side of the trap, and do not trouble the householder. I feel inclined to paraphrase the words which King Lear used to something equally fascinating and, as he found, equally treacherous:—
'But to the syphon do the gods inherit,
Beneath is all the fiends'....
Give me an ounce of civet, good apothecary,
To sweeten my imagination.'
As a champion of individual liberty, I would say that those who in country places wish for water-closets should pay for them, and those who, for conscience' sake, do not pollute the rivers or starve the soil should not be taxed to pay for the misdeeds of those who do.