Effects on Europeans already Diseased.—To persons already suffering from disease, the experiment of a residence in Ceylon is one of questionable propriety. Those of a scrofulous diathesis need not consider it hazardous, as experience does not show that in such there is any greater susceptibility to local or constitutional disorders, or that when these are present, there is greater difficulty in their removal.
To those threatened with consumption, the island may be supposed to offer some advantages in the equability of the temperature, and the comparative quiescence of the lungs from reduced necessity for respiratory effort. Besides, the choice of climates presented by Ceylon enables a patient, by the easy change of residence to a different altitude and temperature, avoiding the heats of one period and the dry winds of another, to check to a great extent the predisposing causes likely to lead to the development of tubercle. This, with attention to clothing and systematic exercise as preventives of active disease, may serve to restrain the further progress though it fail to eradicate the tendency to phthibis. But when already the formation of tubercle has taken place to any considerable extent, and is accompanied by softening, the morbid condition is not unlikely to advance with alarming celerity; and the only compensating circumstance is the diminution of apparent suffering, ascribable to general languor, and the absence of the bronchial irritation occasioned by cold humid air.
Dyspepsia.—Habitual dyspeptics, and those affected by hepatic obstructions, had better avoid a lengthened sojourn in Ceylon; but the tortures of rheumatism and gout, if they be not reduced, are certainly postponed for longer intervals than those conceded to the same sufferers in England. Gout, owing to the great cutaneous excretion, in most instances totally disappears.
Precautions for Health.—Next to attention to diet, health in Ceylon is mainly to be preserved by systematic exercise, and a costume adapted to the climate and its requirements. Paradoxical as it may sound, the great cause of disease in hot climates is cold. Nothing ought more cautiously to be watched and avoided than the chills produced by draughts and dry winds; and a change of dress or position should be instantly resorted to when the warning sensation of chilliness is perceived.
Exercise.—The early morning ride, after a single cup of coffee and a biscuit on rising, and the luxury of the bath before dressing for breakfast, constitute the enjoyments of the forenoon; and a similar stroll on horseback, returning at sunset to repeat the bath[1] preparatory to the evening toilette, completes the hygienic discipline of the day. At night the introduction of the Indian punka into bed-rooms would be valuable, a thin flannel coverlet being spread over the bed. Nothing serves more effectually to break down an impaired constitution in the tropics than the want of timely and refreshing sleep.
1: "Je me souviens que les deux premières années que je fus en ce pais-là, j'eus deux maladies: alors je pris la coütume de me bien laver soir et matin, et pendant 16 ans que j'y ay demeuré depuis, je n'ay pas senti le moindre mal."—RIBEYRO, Hist. de l'Isle de Ceylan, vol. v. ch. xix. p. 149.
Dress.—In the selection of dress experience has taught the superiority of calico to linen, the latter, when damp from the exhalation of the skin, causing a chill which is injurious, whilst the former, from some peculiarity in its fibre, however moist it may become, never imparts the same sensation of cold. The clothing best adapted to the climate is that whose texture least excites the already profuse perspiration, and whose fashion presents the least impediment to its escape.[1] The discomfort of woollen has led to its avoidance as far as possible; but those who, in England, may have accustomed themselves to flannel, will find the advantage of persevering to wear it, provided it is so light as not to excite perspiration. So equipped for active exercise, exposure to the sun, however hot, may be regarded without apprehension, provided the limbs are in motion and the body in ordinary health; but the instinct of all oriental races has taught the necessity of protecting the head, and European ingenuity has not failed to devise expedients for this all-important object.
1: "Man not being created an aquatic animal, his skin cannot with impunity be exposed to perpetual moisture, whether directly applied or arising from perspiration retained by dress. The importance to health of keeping the skin dry does not appear to have hitherto received due attention."—PICKERING, Races of Man, &c., ch. xliv.
From what has been said, it will be apparent that, compared with continental India, the securities for health in Ceylon are greatly in favour of the island. As to the formidable diseases which are common to both, their occurrence in either is characterised by the same appalling manifestations: dysentery fastens, with all its fearful concomitants, on the unwary and incautious; and cholera, with its dark horrors, sweeps mysteriously across neglected districts, exacting its hecatombs. But the visitation and ravages of both are somewhat under control, and the experience bequeathed by each gloomy visitation has added to the facilities for checking its recurrence.[1]
1: "It is worthy of remark, that although all the troops in Ceylon have occasionally, but at rare intervals; suffered severely from cholera, the disease has in very few instances attacked the officers; or indeed Europeans in the same grade of life. This is one important difference to be borne in mind when estimating the comparative risk of life in India and Ceylon. It must be due to the difference in comforts and quarters, or more particularly to the exemption from night duty, by far the most trying of the soldiers' hardships. The small mortality amongst the officers of European regiments in Ceylon is very remarkable."—Note by Dr. CAMERON, Army Med. Staff.