"As affording the simplest and most conclusive proof that the degree of life varies as the degree of correspondence, it remains to point out that perfect correspondence would be perfect life. Were there no changes in our environment but such as the organism had adapted changes to meet, and were it never to fail in the efficiency with which it met them, there would be eternal existence and universal knowledge. Death by natural decay occurs because in old age the relations between assimilation, oxidation, and the genesis of force going on in the body gradually fall out of correspondence with the relations between oxygen and the food and absorption of heat by the environment. Death from disease arises either when the organism is congenitally defective in its power to balance ordinary internal actions, or when there has taken place some unusual external action to which there was no answering internal action. Death by accident implies some neighboring mechanical changes of which the causes are either unobserved from inattention, or are so intricate their results cannot be foreseen, and, consequently, certain relations in the organism are not adjusted to the relations in the environment. Manifestly, if, to every outer co-existence and sequence by which it was ever in any degree affected, the organism presented an answering process or act, the simultaneous changes would be indefinitely numerous and complex, and the successive ones endless, the correspondence would be the greatest conceivable and the life the highest conceivable, both in degree and length."
Knowledge.—Another requirement to promote human health is a better knowledge of how the constitution of the body may be strengthened, and more certitude as to whether such improvements as it may receive by hygienic training will be transmitted to offspring. That human health may be improved by right training of the body, a better supply of fresh air, greater moderation in living, there is not a shadow of doubt; but is the constitution itself thus strengthened, or only its original vigor conserved and made effective? I have been working on the problem for some time by a series of studies on the blood, and especially the amount of living matter in the colorless corpuscles, and have satisfied myself, from some observations on individual cases, that the original constitution of feeble persons can be strengthened in early life, but the extent of this strengthening seems somewhat limited. Much original research is still required to get at important facts in this direction. If some of the study now given to micro-organisms could be devoted to this subject it would be most useful. The work might be done in connection with our numerous schools of physical culture, now happily multiplying, and also in our physiological laboratories.
That any gain to the vigor of the constitution can be transmitted to the offspring is very probable. While education and training do not seem to affect the germ cells in any marked degree, nutrition does affect them. Whether acquired characters in the form of skill, music, language or other like things are transmitted or not may still be an open question.
Strengthening the constitution seems to be best accomplished by increasing the resources of the body beyond its outgo, so that there shall be some gain; and this brings up a very important subject, that of the importance of living within the bodily income.
In our fast age we are likely to use up the physiological resources in excessive work or dissipation, and so rob our children of their just inheritance.
Effects of Living at High Pressure.—One generation may, by living at high pressure and under specially unfavorable conditions, use up more than its share of the living matter of its bodies and draw a bill on posterity which the next generation cannot pay. Many of us now have the benefit of the calm, unexciting lives of our forefathers. They stored up physiological wealth for us; we are using it. The question is, Can we, working at high pressure, keep this up during our lives (which, in that case, will be on an average rather short), and transmit to the coming generation a large supply of living matter for their needs?
How often has it happened in the history of the world that people who for generations have exhibited no special genius, have blazed out in bursts of national greatness for a time, and then almost died out! We ought to take care that this does not happen to us. How often we see a quiet country family, whose members have for generations led calm, temperate lives, suddenly produce one or two great men and then relapse into obscurity. They had by their quiet, inexpensive living stored up energy for this purpose. On the other hand, how often have we seen the reverse—families whose energies have been used up in overwork or sensuality producing offspring below themselves in ability. The true rule, however, is neither to waste the bodily energy nor to keep too much of it lying idle and producing nothing.
Girls in Manufacturing Districts.—We need also a new departure in our manufacturing centers. Manufacturing as now conducted is a far less healthy occupation than agriculture and horticulture. The reason for this is that workmen and workwomen and even children in most mills and factories are exposed for hours at a time to an atmosphere which is loaded with dust and the debris of cotton, of wool, and often to that worst of all dust which comes from shoddy and rags. They are also, in many cases, kept away from light, and in cramped positions, and this, continued for years, slowly deteriorates the constitution; and if, in case of a war, we were obliged to enlist a large army, we should find a far less number of able bodied men among the factory workers than among the farmers. Let me give you a picture, perhaps one of the very worst to be seen anywhere, of a visit to a New England paper mill.
"We left, with a company of ladies and gentlemen, the light of a mellow afternoon to climb some steep and dusty stairs under the courteous guidance of a superintendent. We had hoped to 'see it all,' 'but that was quite impossible,' said our guide, 'since the room where the rags are sorted is so dusty that the gowns of the ladies would be ruined.' So we contented ourselves with less dangerous rooms. But even about the stairway the dust cloud hung heavily, obscuring the sight and choking the breath. From the narrow landing the room, into which it was impossible to venture, was in full view. It was long and large. From end to end were ranged huge boxes, waist high. Fastened to each were two inverted swords on whose sharp blades the workers cut the piled-up masses of rags, shredding them for the bleaching boiler. All the floor was covered with rags, billows upon billows of soiled white pieces, in which the toilers stood, their feet buried deep beneath the dirty, tattered material.
"Not a word was spoken. Even where we stood speech was difficult, so completely did the thick dust fill eyes, mouth and nostrils, choking, blinding and exasperating. The effect of this perfect silence was oppressive. A certain solemnity hung over the place. Through the fog of dust the figures loomed unnaturally large. All the workers were white and hollow-cheeked, with great sunken eyes, emphasized by the circles underneath. Each woman had bound upon her head some rag, larger or finer than the rest, to protect her hair, and the gray-white bands folded straight across the forehead showed weirdly in the dim half-light.