Three.—For the cure of not a few diseases.

Few there are in our own country, or probably in any other, who enjoy really good and robust health, constantly. Apart from inherited illnesses, the wear and tear of life, end the worry that naturally attends the struggle for existence is very hard upon most of us, and if it were not for weekly periods of rest, the average span of our existence would be a much shorter one than it really is. And, alas! as a rule, our periods of rest seem far too short, our one day’s toil seems hardly well over, until another one begins, and thus our existences are fretted away. To many amongst us life seems one long drawn-out weariness; from year’s end to year’s end the back must ache, and the temples throb, till the very heart grows “tired of its own sad beat, and yearns for rest.” But to live like this, or in any way akin to it, is not to be in a state of health. If a man be really healthy, he is reasonably happy, if he does not feel reasonably happy, he is not in a condition of health. In health there is a complete freedom from ache or pain, from bruise or blemish, from heat or cold; every joint is supple, every muscle capable of contraction and extension. And the mind should feel as light and buoyant as the body, a healthy man should feel a pleasure in merely living, he should be capable of taking an interest in everything that goes on around him, in all he sees, in all he hears, in all he reads, and in all that concerns the well-being of his fellow creatures, and honest toil itself should be an enjoyment to him, and not a worry, not a penance.

It is the custom in England, and a terribly wrong and fatal one it is, to fly to stimulants for the relief of temporary-exhaustion; that is, at the very time when our bodies are tired, and nature courts a brief rest, we dig in the spur, we wield the whip, and keep her at it invariably to her detriment. The very fact that the amount of stimulant taken requires to be increased after a time proves how deleterious is this plan, the modest glass of sherry, or mildest ale, needs after a time to be replaced by fiery brandy or heart-corroding gin. This last is putting an extra thong on the whip, and it is no wonder if, after a time, some important internal organ gives way, and one more is added to the list of incurable invalids.

How much better would it be if tea and coffee took the place of dangerous stimulants, and the balance of health was sought to be retained by the daily use of the morning tub, and a bi-weekly indulgence in an Anglo-Turkish Bath. It is not too much to hope for, and it certainly is not too much to pray for, that public baths upheld in a great measure by Government, may yet be one of the institutions of our beloved land. What a blessing these would be to hard working men, and to the tired and weary among all classes. I venture to predict, that if people were to make a habit of using the Turkish Bath, say on the Saturday afternoons only, gin palaces and dram saloons that now reek with filth and disease would lose many a customer. Persons would find out that there was no real way consonant with the acknowledged rules of health and hygiene of banishing fatigue, of dispelling aches and pains, of calming the nervous system, and preparing the mind for the perfect enjoyment of that day of blessed rest called Sunday.

As a prophylactic against innumerable diseases, we have recommended the use of the Anglo-Turkish Bath. It is almost unnecessary to enlarge upon this head, but a word or two may not be thrown away. Two, then, of the great causae norborum, or disease inducers in this country are cold and indigestion. Now, so long as the skin is a healthy one, and in good working order, it is next to impossible for any one to catch cold through it, if he only takes care to clothe it not heavily but judiciously in warm woollens or light soft silks. It stands to reason that an organ, an instrument or machine—call it what we may—which is perfect in workings, is not so easily thrown out of gear or out of order as one not so perfect. We could fill a volume with cases of people who are constantly in the habit of using Baths, who can stand exposure to both cold and wet with but little inconvenience; and we also know a vast number of votaries of the Bath who do at times catch cold like other people, being probably constitutionally susceptible to its influence—but who get clear of their colds in quite a remarkably short time. The reason undoubtedly is that they have the power to “throw them off,” as the common saying is.

Well, now, as to indigestion. As the reader knows, the whole internal surface of the body is lined with a mucous membrane, which is analagous to the skin or external covering, and as the one is so will the other be; mucous indigestion, therefore, it may be clearly perceived is averted by the use of the Bath. But indigestion may proceed from loss of nerve power, or from a badly acting liver or spleen, or from weakness of the heart, etc. And the Bath strengthens and tones the nervous system far more than any tonic we wot of, moreover its constant use makes the work which the liver and spleen have to perform, mere play, so to speak; and if the Bath invigorates muscle—and we know it does—it must act as a roborant or tonic to the heart itself, which is composed for the most part of muscular tissues.

Many people produce a species of irritable indigestion, by the use of stimulants, for this the Anglo-Turkish bath is an almost certain cure, as it relieves internal congestions, steadies the nerves and produces refreshing sleep.

Many poisons are generated in the system, to which if free vent be not given by means of the pores of a healthily acting skin, mischief is sure sooner or later to arise, such mischief for instance as gout and rheumatism, to which reference has already been made. But the condition of the kidneys is seldom or never studied by anyone and yet if they do not act sufficiently well to expel urea from the blood, a more or less injurious effect is caused upon the brain and nerve centres. This the periodical use of the Anglo-Turkish bath, would tend to remove.

We all know the demoralising effect that the first glass of spirits is said to have upon a man inclined to the abuse of intoxicants; it so affects his brain that he no longer knows, or he disregards right form wrong as far as his health is concerned. But a similar demoralisation of brain tissue, may be produced by poisons positively generated in the system; at least this is our opinion. Those, for example, who have been given to alcohol, often keep “steady” as they phrase it for a month or months, then suddenly or gradually, as the case may be, break out again. This is doubtless caused by the play of some accumulated system-propagated poison on the brain and nerves. This poison may be urea, or it may be some acid, it matters not, it is in the blood and it ought to be eliminated and we earnestly advise those, who would be abstainers but who find it difficult to long remain so, to fly at once for relief to the hot-air bath, whenever the “tempter,” as platform orators call it, seems to urge them to take once more to stimulants.

We think it highly probable, that many inherited diseases such as consumption, scrofula, etc, may be kept at bay by the constant use of the bath under consideration, if only for the simple reason that the blood poisoning is thus constantly being driven off, before it has power to accumulate in quantities large enough to do mischief; not to mention the fact that the bath causes healthful activity of all the secretions.