Another interesting fact is that the births have now reached the lowest rate recorded since civil registration began. In 1876 the rate was 36.3 per 1,000; it is now 30.6. This is very satisfactory, and it is also notable that the illegitimate birth-rate has declined, the proportion, 4.6 per cent, being the lowest yet registered. The worst feature in the Registrar-General's returns, however, is the fact that the male births had fallen in proportion to the female; in the last ten years 1,038 boys were born for every 1,000 girls, and last year the male preponderance had dropped by 5, and is now standing at 1,033 to 1,000.
M. Huth has recently published a valuable book on consanguinity. There is no lack of instances of enforced consanguinity, in the matter of marriage, in isolated communities, according to M. Huth, to disprove the assumption that physical degeneration is likely to result from the practice. An investigation into a number of unions between uncles and nieces, nephews and aunts, and cousins in the first and second degree, gives an average of children rather above than below the general average, though this is attributed to some extent to the comparatively early age at which such unions are generally contracted. Breeders inform us that the results are markedly in favor of consanguineous unions between healthy, well-bred animals. Unions between men or animals of widely different varieties, on the other hand, have a decidedly injurious effect on the off-spring, and beyond a certain limit are almost absolutely sterile. Mulattoes and the half-breeds of India and America are striking examples of the deterioration to which such racial disparity gives rise. The great point to bear in mind is that the union of individuals with the same morbid tendencies intensifies the taint, and that, too, quite irrespective of any consanguinity. The moral, according to the author, is that the reasons which have led to the prohibition of marriages within certain degrees of relationship are social, and not physiological.
Malaria (Chills and Fever).—Mr. W. S. Green, editor of the Weekly Colusa Sun, of this State, has made careful investigations on the malaria question. We quote from his issue of May 12, 1888:—
"Irrigation and Malaria.—At the irrigation convention held at Riverside in March, '84, a paper by W. S. Green was read on the subject of 'Irrigation on Health.' The writer took a new departure, and combated notions held for ages; that is, he held that however much the received notions of malaria might hold good as to other climates, they were not correct when applied to California, where the air was in motion pretty much all the while. Mr. Green received the highest indorsement of his ideas, and they have come to be accepted as correct. His statement of facts has been verified by almost all observing men.
"To the Pres. of the Irrigation Convention, Riverside, Cal.—
"Having taken great interest in the problem of irrigation for twenty years and over, I had intended to be present at your meeting, but at this date I find it will be impossible. If a man possesses a mite of knowledge or an idea on this great subject, it is his duty to give his co-workers the benefit of it.
"During a residence of thirty-four years in the Sacramento Valley, I have had time and opportunity to observe and to study its sanitary conditions, and these observations bear directly, I think, on the subject of the effect of irrigation on the health of a country. I am led by these observations to reject almost in toto the long-accepted theory of infection by malaria from the atmosphere, that is, so far as it pertains to California. I will not consume your time with a technical dissertation, but will state some facts as briefly as possible, and in plain, homely phrase.
"When I saw people living all along the margins of the tules, where in summer the water became hot and stale and full of decaying vegetation, and hundreds of forms of animal life, and yet remain entirely free from malarial influence, I began to think there was some mistake in the accepted theory. I do not pretend to say that all the people living along the tule margins were or are healthy. All who occupy some places seem to be attacked by chills, while the occupants of places close by are never so attacked. Health is the rule. I saw that all these people, those on the healthy and those on the sickly places, must breathe the same air, coming to them from the same hot, stagnant water and decaying vegetation, and I concluded that malaria was not in the air. But I investigated further.
"There are clay, or, as some call them, hardpan banks to the upper Sacramento River, which are from a quarter of a mile to a mile apart. The river, for some very indefinite number of centuries, has vibrated between these banks—washing in on one side and filling in on the other. There is, then, an old or clay formation and a newer or alluvial formation; of course, there is alluvium on top of the clay, but this is not to our purpose. When I first saw the valley in 1850, this new land, some of it as high as the old, was covered with pea vines, blackberry vines, and a dense undergrowth generally, while the other grew wild oats and was usually as open as our wheat-fields. I began to notice that those people who built their houses and dug their wells on a newer formation generally had chills, while the others, as a rule, had not. Sometimes these sickly and healthy places would be but a few feet apart. They breathed the same air, but they did not drink the same water. I began to conclude that these people, both along the river and around the margins of the tules, drank the germ of disease and did not breathe it, and I continued my observations.