With a view to the exaltation of the condition of the entire organism, as well as simply that of the digestive and assimilative system—and in addition to the reform already suggested as to clothing, i.e., a reduction in the number and weight of garments habitually worn, when these have been superabundant,—I would say to all classes, sick or well, that great advantage will be derived from habituating themselves to transient exposure of the entire surface of the body to the air. Often enough, we observe persons sitting heavily clad, in a warm room and close to the fire, and yet feeling “shivery” and sure of having “caught cold.” To throw off all clothing would banish such chills instanter, especially if the person begins to give himself a brisk hand-rubbing. The skin is sweltered, and is numb for want of circulation in the capillaries. In the case supposed the person has prevented a “cold.” Next to the water-bath, which is, of course, or ought to be, an air-bath and water-bath combined, the simple air-bath is invaluable as a prophylactic or a curative; and in very many instances, say for several mornings in each week, and whenever the usual water-bath is not convenient, the air-bath will prove an excellent substitute. In place of dodging from the sweltering bed into his heavy day-clothing, the robust man will be far more likely to maintain his vigorous condition by doffing his night-shirt and indulging for the space of, say, five minutes or less, in brisk hand-rubbing all over, however cold his sleeping-room, and again on going to bed; while the delicate ones should, with due caution, inaugurate the same system (some will-power has to be exerted), but graduated, as to temperature and duration, to their special conditions—advancing as their physical condition improves under its influence until they are no longer members of that immense army—the victims of “aËrophobia.” Patients themselves too weak for even the exercise of self-rubbing will still derive great benefit from the air-bath, in a temperature, say, of 65°, with an attendant to rub them briskly from neck to heels. Set in practice in a rational manner this custom will never injure the most delicate person, but on the contrary will always prove beneficial. It will not bring the dead to life, nor, indeed, “cure” the moribund; but it is one of Nature’s most efficient aids—it is Nature herself, in very truth—and I have seen patients who were thought to be hopelessly ill, begin to take on what seemed to be renewed life, largely through this new use of fresh air, and the dismissal of the unnatural dread of it. For example:

CHRONIC DYSPEPSIA CURED BY FASTING AND FRESH AIR.

A patient, Mrs. T., of New Hampshire, a very bright lady indeed, and one who appreciated the necessity of fresh air, had yet, through a very deep decline, in addition to a life-long invalidism, become hyper-sensitive to cold, wrapping and over-wrapping to guard against chilliness, fearful of the least current of air. Both relatives and friends were discouraged as to her recovery—it even being urged, after I had taken the case, that if, as it seemed, there were no hopes of her getting well, she ought to have some “medicine to ease her pathway to the grave.”[56] This was in the month of October of the year 1882, when she came under my care. I induced her to leave off eating, since eating was particularly disagreeable, and only served to keep up the chronic inflammation of the entire digestive and neighboring viscera, causing her a great deal of suffering and threatening her with starvation. [Referring to her first letter (written by her sister), describing her condition, I find such expressions as these: “My physician, who feared heart disease, as my mother and one sister had died of it, becoming alarmed at my symptoms, desired a consultation, and Dr. ——, Professor of Cardiac Diseases at —— —— College Hospital, was called. He said heart was all right, but lungs weak. I was well drugged, but when they stuffed me on cod-liver oil and beefsteak I would have inflammation of the stomach and liver and, of course, grew worse, with such a terrible ache at the base of my brain.... Was brought to N. H. (from Brooklyn, N. Y.) in May, and had congestion of the liver shortly after. My physician, here, ordered iron and strychnine, but it did no permanent good. All my friends say I am starving to death, and unless you can advise me, I fear that I shall, for I am terribly emaciated even now.... My Æsophagus, stomach, and liver are in an irritated condition,... am sore all over,—can not sleep at night; have taken chloral by physician’s advice. My flesh has a yellow-purple color—arms and hands grow quite purple at times,” etc., etc.] I directed her to throw away her medicine—iron and strychnia, aconite and chloral—bottles and all,—as the first step, telling her that whether she was to live or die, she should be made more comfortable without, than with medicine. For the exhausted digestive organs, I directed entire rest, as before stated; and for seven days she swallowed nothing but cool or hot water.[57] For the first three or four days many of her symptoms increased in severity—not a bad sign. At the same time I succeeded in removing from her mind the dread of air-currents, improving the ventilation of both the sleeping and sitting room, and she, furthermore, begun the system of air-bathing here enjoined. On the seventh day she reported by letter that she felt as though something “more nourishing than water would be very acceptable,” that she had some very nice pears and Delaware grapes, and would like to try them. I directed her to take a breakfast of fruit every morning; and, at night, a dinner of two or three unleavened gems (made from unsifted wheat-meal and mixed stiff with cold water), with a very little fruit, and a cupful of skimmed milk (no butter, cream, or any kind of animal fat), beginning with a single gem; the milk to be taken last, by itself, and each swallow to be held for a moment in the mouth. Under this treatment she is making excellent progress—not rapid and fictitious, as we often enough witness under a stimulating regimen, but a real, natural growth healthward. She rides out in all weathers, walks a mile or two every day to and from the neighbors, aids in the work about the house, and on December 9th, about two months after she began the “natural cure,” she reports by postal as follows: “I am still on the hygienic tack and growing stronger, though I still have some aches to assure me that I am mortal. I ‘sleep beautifully,’ with window open in all weathers. I enjoy my air-baths every morning in the hall (a portion of the time), with the mercury at zero!” (She is now in robust health.)

Benjamin Franklin had observed the invigorating effects of this practice and would often, in moderate weather, rise from bed in the morning and, entirely nude, write for an hour or more, and then dress for breakfast. When wakeful at night, the great philosopher found that by throwing off the bed-coverings for a few minutes he could then re-cover and fall asleep and sleep soundly.[58] Finally, so deeply was Franklin impressed from his own experience and observation in this direction that he proposed to cure all diseases by means of the air-bath, combined with plain and abstemious living. His idea concerning the most popular of all disorders may be inferred from the following: “I shall not attempt to explain why ‘damp clothes’ occasion colds rather than wet ones, because I doubt the fact. I imagine that neither the one nor the other contributes to this effect, and that the causes of colds are totally independent of wet and even of cold.” (Essays, p. 216.)

Dr. James R. Nichols, of Boston, the well-known scientist, thus emphasizes the importance of this form of bath:

“One of the most sagacious, far-seeing men this country has produced was Doctor Franklin. He was in all that he did and said far in advance of his age and of his opportunities, and his wisdom was of that rare kind which does not grow old. His discoveries and devices were not partial and imperfect, but such as have needed little revision or improvement.

“The lightning-rod he devised is to-day the best form we have, and his method of applying it to buildings needs no special modification. His open-fireplace stove is still largely in use, no better one having been devised. His philosophical theories and speculations were so rounded out, so clearly and sagaciously developed, that many of them stand to-day as fixed facts in philosophy and science. Among his important discoveries was the ‘air-bath,’ a sanitary or curative agent which is of the highest consequence to the welfare of mankind. It may be said that he did not present the matter in much practical detail, but he suggested it, used it, and gave reasons for believing in its high importance.

“We have made the air-bath a matter of careful study, and wish to call the attention of the readers of the Journal to it, as a means of securing and preserving health, which is of the first importance. It is impossible for physicians or individuals of ordinary sagacity to fail to see that a large proportion of invalids and semi-invalids do not bear well the application of either cold or tepid water to the body. A man or woman must naturally be of strong constitution and in robust health to arise in the morning, in cold climates, and stand under the icy streams which come from a shower-bath, without breaking down in health at an early day. The sponge-bath is less injurious, but it saps the vitality of many to a fatal extent, and feeble persons are rarely in any degree benefited by its use. The tepid bath, as a curative means, constantly followed weakens rather than strengthens, and many can not continue it for the space even of a week. Bathing, beyond the needs of perfect cleanliness, is not generally to be recommended. Mankind are not aquatic animals, like ducks and geese; they are not born on or in the water, and nature never designed that they should be splashing about in that element within the lines of the temperate or frigid zones....

“The air-bath is a means of recuperation which needs to be intelligently and carefully adopted, and like all other good things must not be abused. There are hundreds of thousands of people of both sexes, in this country, who lead miserable lives, and yet they are not in bed, not perhaps confined to their dwellings; they suffer from nervous prostration, from imperfect digestion and assimilation, from worry, from overwork, from the care of households, etc. A vast number in the mighty army of invalids are not themselves to blame for their physical weaknesses; their idiosyncrasies of organization come by inheritance....

“Now, the air-bath comes to the feeble and physically impoverished as a kind and good friend; and let us see how we can obtain from it the highest good. Nearly all semi-invalids are inclined to sedentary habits, and as the circulation is languid the body in winter is under a persistent chill. In the morning, upon getting out of bed, the clothing can not be too quickly adjusted, as the body is in a shiver; and the air of a cool room is a thing to be dreaded.

“The morning is the time for the air-bath, and all that is required is a hair-cloth mitten [a towel, or even the bare hand alone will answer, however,] and a moderately cool room. When the invalid steps from the bed to the floor in the morning, let the hair glove or mitten be seized, and without removing the night-clothes proceed to rub gently all parts of the body, at the same time walking about in the room until a feeling of fatigue is experienced; then drop the glove, and gently pass the hand over all parts of the body before resuming the clothing. [Unless the nude body is extremely sensitive to cold, it may be exposed to the air for a few moments, even on the first morning]. The next morning jump out of bed in a moderately cool [never a ‘close,’ but always a ventilated] room, and go over the same process as before, remaining a little longer exposed to the air after the rubbing. The third morning repeat this treatment; and on the fourth, or at the end of a week, take off all the night-clothing, and briskly apply the hair glove, first with the right hand and then with the left, all the time walking about. Follow up this, as the degree of strength permits, morning after morning, until the body is so rejuvenated and the blood so attracted to the surface, that the cool air is felt to be a luxury. Let the body be entirely nude, no socks upon the feet, no scarf about the chest. At first, or after the first week, perhaps, the exposure to the pure cool air may be three or four minutes; soon increase the exposure, until, after a month or two, the air-bath may continue for twenty minutes or half an hour. Do not fail to walk about during the first month, using the hands in polishing the skin. After the first month the patient may sit in the air of the room part of the time, but constant, gentle exercise is best.

“Now, another most important curative agent connected with the air-bath is sunlight. In summer, sunlight is accessible, but in winter only the late risers can secure its benefits. [There is no reason why morning should be regarded as the only appropriate time for this skin-airing. On the contrary, some will find midday even better, though morning is for most persons the most convenient time. Many can not devote any other hour to this work; others will not have the energy, i. e., the good sense to disrobe for an air or sun bath during the day.] If possible, sit and walk in the sunlight during the bath. It is astonishing what the direct actinic rays of the morning sun can do for an invalid, when the whole nude body is brought under its influence.”

SCROFULA.

A sick niece of the Mrs. T. whose case is reported on p. 168, living in New York, learning of her aunt’s “miraculous cure,” resolved to renounce medication and come home for hygienic treatment. Her disease is scrofula, and her condition was such that her friends had well-nigh abandoned all hope of her recovery. With non-healing ulcers, increasing in number on body and limbs; weak, languid, with neither strength nor ambition to move about; emaciated from 120 to 88 pounds—it did seem as though her case was a most critical one, indeed. Nevertheless, on the clean, pure, nutritious diet which had restored her relative—largely “natural,” wholly abstemious, and free from all animal fats (see foot-note, page 232)—modified to suit her particular needs—taken morning and night with appropriate air and water baths, etc., she soon began to show signs of improvement. After two months’ trial, her aunt writes that her niece is certainly gaining. This gain must be real instead of fictitious, since it is impossible to attribute it to any artificial stimulation. The sores are beginning to heal; her strength is increasing, by exerting it daily—drawing, at first moderately, but increasing her drafts from day to day, upon the “reserved force,” each draft being overpaid, so to say, by subsequent rest, food, sleep, etc., thus daily increasing her physical bank account,—there now seems every prospect that this young wife will ere long be restored to her home as good as new. [Both aunt and niece take their meals in their private rooms, alone, the total quantity and variety to be taken at each meal only appearing on the table; there is, therefore, no temptation for “trying a little more” of this, that, and the other thing, which almost inevitably leads to excess, and consequent impairment of appetite; no taxing of the sick brain to be “agreeable” to a “tableful” of healthy persons, to interfere with the digestion.]