Professor Jenkin then proceeded to show how a house might be absolutely cut off from all contamination from these sources of evil. Then by means of large diagrams he showed the several systems of pipes within a house. One system coloured red showed the pipes that received foul matter. A system marked in blue showed pipes used to ventilate this red system. The essential conditions of safety in the internal fittings of a house—it was inculcated—were that no air to be breathed, no water to be drunk, should ever be contaminated by connection with red or blue systems. Then in yellow were shown the pipes which received dirty water, which was not necessarily foul. Lastly a white system, which under no circumstances must ever touch the ‘red,’ ‘blue,’ or ‘yellow’ systems. Such a diagram recalled the complicated anatomical drawings which illustrate the system of arteries and veins in the human frame. Little wonder, then, that one gentleman remarked, in perplexity, that he had not room in his house for such a mass of pipes; but they were already there, with other pipes besides, all carefully hidden away, as in the human tenement, with the inevitable result—as the preacher of cleanliness and health declared—‘out of sight, out of mind.’
In plain and forcible language were demonstrated the ills this product of modern life is heir to; and the drastic measures that most of them demand to secure the reputation of a healthy house. Lastly the formation of an Association to carry out the idea (already sketched) cheaply, was briefly introduced.
Next morning, January 23rd, was the moment chosen to lay the scheme formally before the public. In all the Edinburgh newspapers, along with lengthy reports of the lecture, appeared, in form of an advertisement, a statement [295] of the scheme and its objects, supported by an imposing array of ‘Provisional Council.’ In due course several of the Scots newspapers and others, such as the Building News, gave leading articles, all of them directing attention to this new thing, as ‘an interesting experiment about to be tried in Edinburgh,’ ‘what promises to be a very useful sanitary movement, now being organised, and an example set that may be worthy of imitation elsewhere,’ and so on.
Several of the writers waxed eloquent on the singular ingenuity of the scheme; the cheap professional advice to its adherents, &c.; and the rare advantages to be gained by means of co-operation and the traditional ‘one pound one.’
The Provisional Council was absolutely representative of the community, and included names more than sufficient to inspire confidence. It included the Lord-Lieutenant of the county, Lord Rosebery; the Lord Justice Clerk, Lord Moncrieff; the Lord Advocate; Sir Robert Christison; several of the Judges of the Court of Session; the Presidents of the Colleges of Physicians, and of Surgeons; many of the Professors of the University; the Bishop of Edinburgh, and the Dean; several of the best known of the Clergy of the Church of Scotland, Established, Free, and of other branches; one or two members of Parliament; more than one lady (who should have been perhaps mentioned earlier on this list) well known for large views and public spirit; several well-known country gentlemen; one or two distinguished civil engineers and architects; and many gentlemen of repute for intelligence and business qualities.
Very soon after the second of the promised lectures, the members of the new Society began to be numbered by hundreds. By the 28th of February, 500 subscribers having been enrolled, they were in a position to hold their first regular meeting under the presidency of Sir Robert Christison, when a permanent Council composed of many of those who had from the first shown an interest in the movement—for example, Professor (now Sir Douglas) Maclagan and Lord Dean of Guild (now Sir James) Gowans, Professor Jenkin himself undertaking the duties of Consulting Engineer—were appointed. And Jenkin was singularly fortunate in securing as Secretary the late Captain Charles Douglas, a worker as earnest as himself. It was the theory of the originator that the Council, composed of leading men not necessarily possessed of engineering knowledge, should ‘give a guarantee to the members that the officials employed should have been carefully selected, and themselves work under supervision. Every householder in this town,’ he adds, ‘knows the names of the gentlemen composing our Council.’
The new Association was a success alike in town and country. Without going far into statistics it will be evident what scope there was, and is, for such operations when it is stated that last year (1885) 60 per cent. of the houses inspected in London and its neighbourhood were found to have foul air escaping direct into them, and 81 per cent. had their sanitary appliances in an unsatisfactory state. Here in Edinburgh things were little, if any, better; as for the country houses, the descriptions of some were simply appalling. As the new Association continued its operations it became the rôle of the Consulting Engineer to note such objections, hypothetical or real, as were raised against the working of his scheme. Some of these were ingenious enough: but all were replied to in order, and satisfactorily resolved. It was shown, for example, that ‘you might have a dinner party in your house on the day of your inspection’; that the Association worked in the utmost harmony with the city authorities, and with the tradesmen usually employed in such business; and that the officials were as ‘confidential’ as regards the infirmities of a house as any physician consulted by a patient. The strength of the engineering staff has been varied from time to time as occasion required; at the moment of writing employment is found in Edinburgh and country districts in various parts of Scotland for five engineers temporarily or permanently engaged.
The position Jenkin claimed for the Engineers was a high one, but not too high: thus he well defined it:—
‘In respect of Domestic Sanitation the business of the Engineer and that of the medical man overlap; for while it is the duty of the engineer to learn from the doctor what conditions are necessary to secure health, the engineer may, nevertheless, claim in his turn the privilege of assisting in the warfare against disease by using his professional skill to determine what mechanical and constructive arrangements are best adapted to secure these conditions.’ [299]
Flattery in the form of imitation followed in due course. A branch was established at St. Andrews, and one of the earliest of similar institutions was founded at Newport in the United States. Another sprang up at Wolverhampton. In 1881 two such societies were announced as having been set on foot in London. And the Times of April 14th, in a leading article of some length, drew attention to the special features of the plan which it was stated had followed close upon a paper read by Professor Fleeming Jenkin before the Society of Arts in the preceding month of January. The adherents included such names as those of Sir William Gull, Professor Huxley, Professor Burdon Sanderson, and Sir Joseph Fayrer. The Saturday Review, in January, had already in a characteristic article enforced the principles of the scheme, and shown how, for a small annual payment, ‘the helpless and hopeless condition of the householder at the mercy of the plumber’ might be for ever changed.