RHINEFALLS.

Notre mal s’empoisonneDu secours, qu’on lui donne!

Notre mal s’empoisonne

Du secours, qu’on lui donne!

These are circumstances which ought to be pointed out to our countrymen and women, who are too often led to distant mineral waters and baths by flowery descriptions and miraculous cures, without any warning as to the consequences that may ensue—whether salutary or dangerous. The concealment of this spa or bath fever, is any thing but beneficial either to the waters or the water-drinkers. It deceives the one, and injures the reputation of the other. The local physicians of these mineral springs never omit to point out the consequences of bathing in, and drinking the waters, as I have already shewn by several quotations; and it is highly desirable that all spa-goers should be aware of them.[33]

Cutaneous eruptions are frequent consequences of the Wildbad waters, and are considered salutary. The kidneys, next to the skin, shew the greatest sensibility to the action of these waters. In some people (especially where the waters are drunk as well as bathed in,) a most copious and clear secretion is produced; but this is seldom a critical or salutary discharge. It is when the secretion from the kidneys is deep-coloured, sedimentous, and exhaling a peculiar odour, especially in gouty subjects, that benefit may be confidently anticipated. The bowels are seldom acted on by these waters—more frequently, indeed, constipation is the result, requiring aperient medicine both before and during the course. The hæmorrhoidal and monthly periods are promoted by the waters, thus relieving plethoric fulness of the abdominal organs.

“In dispositions to rheumatism, cutaneous complaints, erysipelas, catarrhal affections, neuralgia, chlorosis (green sickness,) tubercles, scrofula,difficult and premature accouchments, the waters of Wildbad are strongly recommended.”

Professor Heim warns the patient not to be discouraged, even if he leaves the waters unrelieved, or worse than when he commenced the course. The cure will often follow, when the individual has regained his home, weeks or months after leaving Wildbad.

It is only since 1836, that a source of waters for drinking has been discovered and established at Wildbad. The mineral ingredients do not materially differ from those of the baths. They are now very generally used in conjunction with the latter, and are found to be very useful auxiliaries. They sit lightly on the stomach, and prove rather aperient than otherwise. They increase the appetite, and promote materially the action of the skin, kidneys, and glandular organs generally.

Dr. Fricker has laid open to Professor Heim the records of 25 years’ observation and experience of these waters; from which, and also from his own practice, the latter physician has, in ten chapters, classified the maladies for which the baths and waters have been employed, detailing numerous cases, and superadding commentaries of his own. It will be necessary to skim lightly over the heads of these chapters, in order to shew the properties of the Wildbad spa in its direct application to practice.

I.Rheumatism, Gout, and their Consequences.—“Our baths have always maintained great reputation for the cure of these two classes of tormenting maladies, arising from different causes, but presenting many traits of character in common.” The author cautions the bather against using the baths, where there is any acute or even subacute inflammation in the joints, muscles, or internal organs. It is in thechronicand painful forms of gout and rheumatism, together with their numerous consequences, that the Wildbad waters will be found beneficial—indeed, according to the authors abovementioned, almost infallibly curative. Messrs. Fricker and Heim trace many cases of tic, vertigo, deafness, affections of the sight, asthmatic coughs, intermissions of pulse, tracheal and bronchial affections, &c. to suppressed gout and rheumatism, as they are often removed by the baths and waters. Fifteen cases in illustration are detailed with great minuteness by Dr. Heim, to which the Wildbad bather may refer on the spot.

II.Affections of the Spinal Marrow, and its Consequences, Paralysis.—Diseases of the spinal marrow are seldom recognized in their early stages,not indeed till symptoms of paralysis begin to shew themselves in the limbs. This class of complaints is daily augmenting in number, as the baths of Wildbad can testify. These waters have, says M. Heim, often dissipated the symptoms which usually precede attacks of paralysis, and therefore, if used early, would be more useful than when taken after the paralysis is actually developed. But even here, it is averred that the progress of the malady is frequently arrested, and an amelioration procured.

When the paralysis of the lower extremities is complete—when the individual is no longer able to walk or stand, without assistance, the waters of Wildbad have often produced wonderful effects in restoring power—indeed it is curious that, according to the physicians aforesaid, these baths are frequently more successful in these cases than in those which are not so far advanced towards a complete paralysis. An immense number of cases are detailed by Dr. Heim under this head; and I am tempted to extract one, which is the case of a countryman of our own.

“A young English gentleman, after bathing in a river, the water of which was very cold, became completely paralytic of the lower extremities. He came to Wildbad, and, without consulting any physician, commenced the warmest of the baths. At the end of a fortnight he found himself so considerably improved, that he was able to lay aside his crutches, and walk by the aid of a cane. At this time the coronation of our youthful queen was announced, and the patient determined to assist at the ceremony. He bore the journey well—and returned to Wildbad after a few weeks, without any relapse. He took a second course of the baths, and left Wildbad ultimately in a very improved condition.”

Those paralyses which affect one side only, are almost universally the result of an apoplectic attack. “When these attacks have been occasioned by suppressed hæmorrhoidal discharges—eruptions of the skin suddenly extinguished—engorgements or obstructions of the organs of the abdomen—female obstructions at a certain period of life—metastases of gout or rheumatism—in such cases of hemiplegia, the Wildbad waters have proved serviceable, and it is delightful to see so many of these paralytics leave Wildbad every season, with firm steps, although confined for years previously to the couch, or crutches.”

Professor Heim wisely cautions those who have been of a plethoric constitution, from too free an use of the baths, till they have ascertained how they agree with their constitutions. Before any amelioration takes place, the patient generally experiences some pricking pains and tinglings in the paralyzed parts, followed by a sense of heat, perspiration, and increase of feeling. To these symptoms succeed a gradual restoration of muscular power, accompanied by a sense of electrical sparks passing along the nerves. Numerous cases of paralysis of one side are detailed by Dr. Heim.

III. and IV. These chapters are dedicated to paralysis occasioned by poisons—and also to cases of local paralyses of particular nerves—as those of the face. I must pass them over. The waters appear to have been useful in many of these instances.

The 5th Chapter relates to affections of the joints—to lumbago—sciatica—white swellings of the knee—contractions, &c., in which the baths of Wildbad are lauded. One caution, however, is invariably enjoined—not to use the waters while there is any inflammation actually existing.

TheSixth Chapteris on diseases of the bones, with numerous cases, which I shall pass over.

TheSeventh Chaptertreats of diseases of the skin, cured or relieved by the Wildbad baths and waters. Herpes—ringworm—prurigo—pityriasis—acne—inveterate itch—fetid perspirations, &c. &c. are said to be those which receive most advantage from these waters. Indeed I think it probable that the eulogiums are not much exaggerated as to this class of complaints.

Chap. VIII.relates to scrofula and glandular affections generally. In such complaints it is of the greatest consequence to conjoin the internal with the external use of the waters of Wildbad. These waters are much employed by people with goitre, and Drs. Fricker and Heim consider them very beneficial in enlargements of the liver, spleen, and even of the mesenteric glands.

Chap. IX.Wildbad appears to have attained some considerable reputation in female complaints. Next indeed in number to the class of lame and paralytic patients, which I saw around the baths and waters of this place, were the chlorotic females, whose countenances exhibited the “green and yellow melancholy” of Shakespeare’s “love-sick” maiden—

——“She never told her love,But let concealment, like a worm i’th’bud,Feed on her damask cheek.”

——“She never told her love,

But let concealment, like a worm i’th’bud,

Feed on her damask cheek.”

There are more ailments than love-sickness, however, which cause the youthful maid to “pine in thought,” and exchange all her lillies for the pallid rose—the sparkling expression for the lack-lustre eye—and the elasticity of youth for the languor of premature old age. For the irregularities and obstructions that generally lead to this chlorotic state, the baths and waters of Wildbad are strongly recommended. Dr. Heim avers that, of late years, he has only failed in one instance to bring these females to a state of regularity and health—where no organic disease existed.Although this is rather a startling assertion, yet the concourse of female invalids to this place, bearing such unequivocal marks of a particular class of ailments, offers a fair presumption that many receive benefit there, else the numbers would diminish instead of increasing from year to year. I can also easily believe that a course of these baths, with the daily ingurgitation of large potions of a simple diluent water, may remove many obstructions, and, at all events, bring the constitution into that condition in which some good chalybeate, as Schwalbach, Spa, or Brockenau, might exert a powerful influence on the restoration of health.

The new spring for drinking is at a temperature of 92°, and contains four grains of saline substances in the pint, of which two are muriate of soda or common salt. It is used like other thermal waters, and is slightly aperient, but chiefly alterative.

The public walks to the southward of the town, extend nearly a mile along the noisy Enz, and are very pleasant. A contemplative philosopher might there indulge his sublime speculations—the poet his “wayward fancies”—and the devotee his celestial meditations, with little interruption.

The counter-indications, or disorders not benefited, but aggravated by the waters of Wildbad, are not materially different from those mentioned under the head of other thermal springs—as plethora, or fulness—tendency to apoplexy, to hæmorrhage of any kind, or to engorgements or inflammations of any of the internal organs. Neither are they proper in cases of considerable debility. They are not to be used in inveterate catarrhal affections of the kidneys or bladder, attended with wasting of strength, and probably with organic disease—in chronic diarrhœa—diabetes—internal suppurations—confirmed phthisis—indurations of spleen or liver in an advanced stage—dropsies—scirrhus and cancer—biliary and urinary calculi—organic diseases of the heart—varicose veins—hypochondriasis and hysteria, with debility—original or idiopathic epilepsy, chorea, catalepsy and other convulsive affections of this nature—sterility dependent on organic disease of the reproductive viscera—alienation of mind, &c. On no account should women in a state of pregnancy use the baths or waters of Wildbad.

I have now presented the reader with all the information which I could collect on the spot, from the conversations and writings of those best acquainted with the nature and properties of the waters. Most of the English spa-goers will be disappointed in the magic effects of the baths, as somewhat highly-coloured by Dr. Granville—and will consider the locality as too sombre; while the appearance of the bathers and drinkers—being veritable invalids—many of them on crutches, and many apparently on their way to the grave—will prove anything but cheering to the British hypochondriac, and the sensitive nervous female. A considerable number of English leave Wildbad in a day or two after arriving there—andof the few who take the waters, the majority become alarmed at the spa-fever or irritation, abandoning the waters at the very time they are likely to prove serviceable.

To those, however, who prefer quietude to fashionable frivolity—and a secluded glen to a dashing, gambling Kursaal, the baths and waters may prove serviceable in many of the complaints above enumerated. I would advise all who sojourn at Baden-Baden, or who pass near Wildbad, to visit this place, were it only for curiosity, and the singular scenery of its neighbourhood. The journey from Baden-Baden is an easy one of a single day—but that day should be a fine one, else all the pleasures of the excursion will be lost. In fine, I can conscientiously aver that, in respect to Wildbad, I have neither exaggerated its merits—

“Nor set down aught in malice.”

Winding through the sombre solitudes of the Black Forest, we enter theVallée d’Enfer, through the narrow and frowning pass, whereMoreaustemmed the torrent of the Austrian legions, as did Leonidas the myriads of Xerxes in the Straits of Thermopylæ. Little did that able but unfortunate general dream, during his memorable retreat through the Black Forest, that, a few years afterwards, he would meet his death from the mouth of a French cannon, while combatting in the ranks of the Allies.[34]

What a curse wouldforeknowledgeprove to man, although so ardently desired by curious and eager mortals! A single glance through the telescope of futurity would render us miserable for life! If good was in store, we would relinquish all efforts to obtain it, as being certain. Every day would seem an age till the happiness arrived—and when it came, all relish for it would be gone. On the other hand, if the glass showed misfortune, sickness, and sorrow in the distance—the prospect would soon drive the wretch insane!

Oh blindness to the future wisely given!

TheDisposerof events alone can be the safe depository of prescience.

I have always experienced some degree of disappointment at the sight of waterfalls. Where the volume of water is great, the fall is, comparativelytrifling—and where the descent is from a great height, then the stream is insignificant. If theNiagaracould be translated to the Staubach, and the mighty St. Lawrence thundered from a height of eight hundred feet into the valley of Lauterbrunnen, the scene would be awfully grand, and sufficient to startle the Jaungfrau on her icy throne.

The Rhine, at Schaffhause, falls about seventy or eighty feet, and is by no means impressive, even when viewed from the camera obscura directly opposite the cataract. We drove from the town on a beautiful moonlight night, and descending the stairs on the left bank of the river, we came close to the water’s edge, and also to that of the fall itself. Here is the spot to see and hear the deluge of water, all sparkling with foam, in the mild light of the moon, come thundering from aloft, and threatening every instant to overwhelm the spectator in the boiling flood. If terror be a source of the sublime, there certainly is some degree of this emotion, mixed with the contemplation of a vast mass of water rolling down from a great height, apparently in a direct course towards us. The roar of the cataract, too, is unlike that of any other sound, and adds considerably to the effect produced on the sense of sight.

I do not know how the association of ideas first commenced, but I never see a great waterfall, or a rapid river, without their suggesting themselves as emblems of time or eternity. The torrent rolling along in the same course through countless ages—

“In omne volubilis ævum”—

without change or rest, is calculated to excite reflections on the great stream of time itself—and that inconceivable abyss—eternity—to which it leads. But all things move in circles. The water that runs in the river, mustfirstfall from the clouds—and the rains that descend from the air, mustfirstrise from the earth. And so, perhaps, time and eternity may be but parts of one vast, immeasurable, and incomprehensible cycle, without beginning, middle, or end!

It is probable that, ere many centuries roll away, the falls of the Rhine will become merely a rapid. The stream has worn down four or five channels in the rocky barrier, leaving three or four fragments, resembling the broken arches or piers of a natural bridge, standing up many feet above the surface of the water where it begins to curl over the precipice. The centre fragment is much higher than its brethren, and it is surmounted by a wooden shield, (how they managed to place it there is not easily imagined,) with the arms and motto of Schaffhause.

“Deus spesNostra es.”

“Deus spes

Nostra es.”

The torrent, thus split into four or five divisions, has given rise to someextravagant comparisons, one of which is their similitude to five foaming white steeds, that have broke away from their keepers.

Hark! ’tis the voice of the falling flood!And see where the torrents come—Thundering down through rock and wood,Till the roar makes Echo dumb!Like giant steeds from a distant waste,That have madly broke away,Leaping the crags in their headlong haste,And trampling the waves to spray.Five abreast! as their own foam white—Their wild manes streaming far—A worthy gift from a water-spriteTo his Ocean-monarch’s car![35]

Hark! ’tis the voice of the falling flood!And see where the torrents come—Thundering down through rock and wood,Till the roar makes Echo dumb!

Hark! ’tis the voice of the falling flood!

And see where the torrents come—

Thundering down through rock and wood,

Till the roar makes Echo dumb!

Like giant steeds from a distant waste,That have madly broke away,Leaping the crags in their headlong haste,And trampling the waves to spray.

Like giant steeds from a distant waste,

That have madly broke away,

Leaping the crags in their headlong haste,

And trampling the waves to spray.

Five abreast! as their own foam white—Their wild manes streaming far—A worthy gift from a water-spriteTo his Ocean-monarch’s car![35]

Five abreast! as their own foam white—

Their wild manes streaming far—

A worthy gift from a water-sprite

To his Ocean-monarch’s car![35]

The next best place to that which I have mentioned, for viewing the falls, is in a boat, brought as close as prudence will permit to the boiling eddies. In a camera obscura opposite the falls, is a reflected picture of the cataract—but I cannot imagine why it should be preferable to the real object before our eyes.

There is a “German Switzerland” on the banks of the Elbe—and so is there a “Swiss Germany” on the banks of the Rhine. From Schaffhause to Constance, Zurich, Berne, and even Geneva, the country is pretty and well cultivated; but it is notSwitzerlandtill we get past the above points, and penetrate among the mountains. For the same reason that we should ascend the Rhine from Holland, we ought to enter Switzerland from the North, so that the grandeur and majesty of the scenery may be always on the increase till we ascend the Splugen, the St. Gothard, the Simplon, the St. Bernard, or the Mount Cenis.

Pursuing our route to the nextSpaon the list of this tour, we come to Zurich.

Zurich, like Geneva, is situated between a placid lake and a crystal river. Lake Leman, having filtered its waters, discharges them through the “blue and arrowy Rhone,” into the tideless Mediterranean, not to pass on to the vast Atlantic, but again to rise in exhalations to the clouds, and fall—Heaven knows where. The lake of Zurich has a different taste. It sends its purified waters through the Limmatt, to mingle with the Rhine, (also freed from impurities in the lake of Constance,) and thence to find its way to the great Northern Ocean—probably to visit the Thames, the Ohio, or even the Ganges, before it makes another aerial voyage to the skies.

The scenery about Zurich is tame and insipid, compared with that about Geneva, where the Jura and the high Alps in the distance, contrast with the lovely Pais de Vaud in the vicinity of the lake.

This lake, which is only a good day’s journey from Zurich, presents, in my opinion, the finest lake-scenery in Switzerland. The mountains, on the northern shore, rise almost perpendicularly to the height of five or six thousand feet, sprinkled with ledges of rock, on which are perched the shepherd’s chalet, and giving footing and scanty nutriment to the pine and alpine shrubs and flowers. The mountains on the southern side are equally high, but not so perpendicular in their descent to the lake; but the whole circle of scenery is most magnificent. The transit of the lake is east and west, a distance of some twelve or thirteen miles, and the passage is usually favoured by a kind of trade wind, which blows from the westward during one part of the day, and from the eastward during the other. The little village ofWesen, is the point of embarkation from the Zurich side, and is situated most romantically under stupendous mountains. We started at two o’clock, with carriage, horses, and live lumber, in the passage-boat, which did not convey much idea of safety, being low, flat, and rigged with a tall frail mast and square sail. The dangers of the Wallenstadt navigation are, no doubt exaggerated; but it is evident that, along the whole of the northern board of the lake there is but one small spot where a boat could put in for safety in a storm. Along this shore we sailed with a fine breeze, and enjoyed the prospect of one of the finest scenes in Switzerland. The mountains on the northern board are so high and precipitous, that I think it is physically impossible for a gale of wind to blow direct on the shore, when a boat comes close to the rocks. It could only be by the impulse of the waves that a boat might be forced amongst the breakers. Accidents, however, very seldom happen. The afternoon was clear sunshine—the boatmen abandoned the oars, being wafted along by a fine breeze—the song was commenced—and theRanz de Vachewas returned from the ledges of rock, and patches of vegetation among the cliffs, by many a blithsome shepherd, tending his flocks, or collecting his little autumnal harvest—the long and slender cataracts poured in sheets of gauze along many a craggy precipice—and the whole scene was kept as a moving panorama by the steady progression of the boat.

In the enjoyment of Swiss or Alpine scenery, everything depends on the state of the atmosphere, and on that of our health and spirits at the time. Hence it is that one person is delighted with a prospect, which another passes without pleasure or surprize at all. Of this I am certain, that a good view of this lake’s scenery can never be erased from the memory.

We landed at the little town of Wallenstadt, situated near the lake, in a marshy and malarious locality, often inundated by the floods, and very insalubrious. No traveller should sleep here, as the distance toSargansis only eight or nine miles.

We slept at this rook’s nest, perched on an eminence above malarious and alluvial marshes, and at the foot of a high and craggy mount, from the summit of which there is a superb prospect of the Rhine on its way to Constance, and of a sea of Alps, of all altitudes—many of them shining with snow and glaciers. Those who do not like to mount the Scholberg, may still enjoy a magnificent panorama from the ruins of an old chateau just above Sargans, and which is of very easy access. The town itself presents better air than fare—the two inns being little better thancabarets, but health and appetite compensate well for coarse viands and hard beds.

Among the strange places into which man has penetrated in search of treasure or health, there is probably not one on this earth, or under it, more wonderful than theBaths of Pfeffers, situated in the country of the Grisons, a few miles distant from the Splugen road, as it leads from Wallenstadt to Coire. They are little known to, and still less frequented by the English; for we could not learn that any of our countrymen had visited them during the summer of 1834.

Having procured five small and steady horses accustomed to the locality, a party of three ladies and two gentlemen[36]started from the little town of Ragatz on a beautiful morning in August, and commenced a steep and zig-zag ascent up the mountain, through a forest of majestic pines and other trees. In a quarter of an hour, we heard the roar of a torrent, but could see nothing of itself or even its bed. The path, however, soon approached the verge of a dark and tremendous ravine, the sides of which were composed of perpendicular rocks several hundred feet high, and at the bottom of which theTamina, a rapid mountain torrent, foamed along in its course to the valley of Sargans, there to fall into the upper Rhine. The stream itself, however, was far beyond our view, and was only known by its hollow and distant murmurs. The ascent, for the first three miles, is extremely fatiguing, so that the horses were obliged to take breath every ten minutes. The narrow path, (for it is only a kind of mule-track,) often winded along the very brink of the precipice, on our left, yet the eye could not penetrate to the bottom of the abyss. After more than an hour of toilsome climbing, we emerged from the wood, and found ourselves in one of the most picturesque and romantic spots that can well be imagined. The road now meanders horizontally through a high, but cultivated region,towards, the village of Valentz, through fields, gardens, vineyards, and meadows, studded with chaumiers and chalets, perched fantastically on projecting ledges of rock, or sheltered from the winds by tall and verdant pines. The prospect from Valentz, or rather from above the village, is one of the most beautiful and splendid I have anywhere seen in Switzerland. We are there at a sufficient distance from the horrid ravine, to contemplate it without terror, and listen to the roaring torrent, thundering unseen, along its rugged and precipitous bed. Beyond the ravine we see the monastery and village of Pfeffers, perched on a high and apparently inaccessible promontory, over which rise alpine mountains, their sides covered with woods, their summits with snow, and their gorges glittering with glaciers. But it is towards the East that the prospect is most magnificent and varied. The eye ranges, with equal pleasure and astonishment, over the valley of Sargans, through which rolls the infant Rhine, and beyond which the majestic ranges of the Rhetian Alps, ten thousand feet high, rise one over the other, till their summits mingle with the clouds. Among these ranges theScesa-plana, theAngstenberg, theFlesch, (like a gigantic pyramid,) and in the distance the Alps that tower round Feldkirck are the most prominent features. During our journey to the baths, the morning sun played on the snowy summits of the distant mountains, and marked their forms on the blue expanse behind them, in the most distinct outlines. But, on our return, in the afternoon, when the fleecy clouds had assembled, in fantastic groups, along the lofty barrier, the reflexions and refractions of the solar beams threw a splendid crown of glory round the icy heads of the Rhetian Alps—changing that “cold sublimity” with which the morning atmosphere had invested them, into a glow of illumination which no pen or pencil could portray. To enjoy the widest possible range of this matchless prospect, the tourist must climb the peaks that overhang the village, when his eye may wander over the whole of the Grison Alps and valleys, even to the lake of Constance.

From Valentz we turned abruptly down towards the ravine, at the very bottom of which are theBaths of Pfeffers. The descent is by a series of acute and precipitous tourniquets, requiring great caution, as the horses themselves could hardly keep on their legs, even when eased of their riders. At length we found ourselves in the area of a vast edifice, resembling an overgrown factory, with a thousand windows, and six or seven stories high. It is built on a ledge of rock that lies on the left bank of theTaminatorrent, which chafes along its foundation. The precipice on the opposite side of the Tamina, and distant about fifty paces from the mansion or rather hospital, rises five or six hundred feet, as perpendicular as a wall, keeping the edifice in perpetual shade, except for a few hours in the middle of the day. The left bank of the ravine, on which the hospital stands, is less precipitous, as it admits of a zig-zag path to and from the Baths. The locale, altogether, of such an establishment, at the verybottom of a frightful ravine, and for ever chafed by a roaring torrent, is the most singularly wild and picturesque I had ever beheld; but the wonders of Pfeffers are not yet even glanced at.[37]

From the western extremity of this vast asylum of invalids, a narrow wooden bridge spans the Tamina, and by it we gain footing on a small platform of a rock on the opposite side. Here a remarkable phenomenon presents itself. The deep ravine, which had hitherto preserved a width of some 150 feet, contracts, all at once, into a narrow cleft or crevasse, of less than 20 feet, whose marble sides shoot up from the bed of the torrent, to a height of four or five hundred feet, not merely perpendicular, but actually inclining towards each other, so that, at their summits, they almost touch, thus leaving a narrow fissure through which a faint glimmering of light descends, and just serves to render objects visible within this gloomy cavern. Out of this recess the Tamina darts in a sheet of foam, and with a deafening noise reverberated from the rocks within and without the crevasse. On approaching the entrance, the eye penetrates along a majestic vista of marble walls in close approximation, and terminating in obscurity, with a narrow waving line of sky above, and a roaring torrent below! Along the southern wall of this sombre gorge, a fragile scaffold, of only two planks in breadth, is seen to run, suspended—as it were—in air, fifty feet above the torrent, and three or four hundred feet beneath the crevice that admits air and light from Heaven into the profound abyss. This frail and frightful foot-path is continued (will it be believed?) nearlyhalf a mileinto the marble womb of the mountain! Its construction must have been a work of great difficulty and peril; for its transit cannot be made even by the most curious and adventurous travellers, without fear and trembling, amounting often to a sense of shuddering and horror. Along these two planks we crept or crawled, with faltering steps and palpitating hearts. It has been my fortune to visit most of the wonderful localities of this globe, but an equal to this I never beheld.

“Imagination, (says an intelligent traveller,) the most vivid, could not portray the portals of Tartarus under forms more hideous than those which Nature has displayed in this place. We enter this gorge on a bridge of planks (pont de planches) sustained by wedges driven into the rocks. It takes a quarter of an hour or more to traverse this bridge, and it requires the utmost precaution. It is suspended over the Tamina, which is heard rolling furiously at a great depth beneath. The walls ofthis cavern, twisted, torn, and split (les parois laterales contournées, fendues, et dechirées) in various ways, rise perpendicular, and even incline towards each other, in the form of a dome; whilst the faint light that enters from the portal at the end, and the crevice above, diminishes as we proceed;—the cold and humidity augmenting the horror produced by the scene. The fragments of rock sometimes overhang this gangway in such a manner, that the passenger cannot walk upright:—at others, the marble wall recedes so much, that he is unable to lean against it for support. The scaffold is narrow, often slippery; and sometimes there is but a single plank, separating us from the black abyss of the Tamina.[38]He who has cool courage, a steady eye, and a firm step, ought to attempt this formidable excursion (épouvantable excursion) in clear and dry weather, lest he should find the planks wet and slippery. He should start in the middle of the day, with a slow and measured step, and without a stick. The safest plan is to have two guides supporting a pole, on the inside of which the stranger is to walk.”

We neglected this precaution, and four out of the five pushed on, even without a guide at all. At forty or fifty paces from the entrance the gloom increases, while the roar of the torrent beneath, reverberated from the sides of the cavern, augments the sense of danger and the horror of the scene. The meridian sun penetrated sufficiently through the narrow line of fissure at the summit of the dome, to throw a variety of lights and of shadows over the vast masses of variegated marble composing the walls of this stupendous cavern, compared with which, those of Salsette, Elephanta, and even Staffa, shrink into insignificance. A wooden pipe, which conveys the hot waters from their source to the baths, runs along in the angle between the scaffold and the rocks, and proves very serviceable, both as a support for one hand while pacing the plank, and as a seat, when the passenger wishes to rest, and contemplate the wonders of the cavern. At about one-third of the distance inward, I would advise the tourist to halt, and survey the singular locality in which he is placed. The inequality of breadth in the long chink that divides the dome above, admits the light in very different proportions, and presents objects in a variety of aspects. The first impression which occupies the mind is caused by the cavern itself, with reflection on the portentous convulsion of Nature which split the marble rock in twain, and opened a gigantic aqueduct for the mountain torrent.[39]After a few minutes’ rumination on theaction of subterranean fire, our attention is attracted to the slow but powerful operation of water on the solid parietes of this infernal grotto. We plainly perceive that the boisterous torrent has, in the course of time, and especially when swelled by rains, caused wonderful changes both in its bed and its banks. I would direct the attention of the traveller to a remarkable excavation formed by the waters on the opposite side of the chasm, and in a part more sombre than usual, in consequence of a bridge that spans the crevice above, and leads to the Convent of Pfeffers. This natural grotto is hollowed out of the marble rock to the depth of 30 feet, being nearly 40 feet in width, by 26 feet in height. It is difficult not to attribute it to art; and, as the whole cavern constantly reminds us of the Tartarean Regions, this beautifully vaulted grotto seems to be fitted for the throne of Pluto and Proserpine—or, perhaps, for the tribunal of Rhadamanthus and his brothers of the Bench, while passing sentence on the ghosts that glide down this Acheron or Cocytus—for had theTaminabeen known to the ancient poets, it would assuredly have been ranked as one of the rivers of Hell.

One of the most startling phenomena, however, results from a perspective view into the cavern, when about midway, or rather less, from its portal. The rocky vista ends in obscurity; but gleams and columns of light burst down, in many places, from the meridian sun, through this “palpable obscure,” so as to produce a wonderful variety of light and shade, as well as of bas-relief, along the fractured walls. While sitting on the rude wooden conduit before alluded to, and meditating on the infernal region upon which I had entered, I was surprised to behold, at a great distance, the figures of human beings, or thin shadows (for I could not tell which), advancing slowly towards me—suspended between Heaven and earth—or, at least, between the vault of the cavern and the torrent of the Tamina, without any apparent pathway to sustain their steps, but seemingly treading in air, like disembodied spirits! While my attention was rivetted on these figures, they suddenly disappeared; and the first impression on my mind was, that they had fallen and perished in the horrible abyss beneath. The painful sensation was soon relieved by the reappearance of the personages in more distinct shapes, and evidently composed of flesh and blood. Again they vanished from my sight; and, to my no small astonishment, I beheld their ghosts or their shadows advancing along the opposite side of the cavern! These, and many other optical illusions, were caused, of course, by the peculiar nature of the locality, and the unequal manner in which the light penetrated from above into this sombre chasm.

Surprise was frequently turned into a sense of danger, when the parties, advancing and retreating, met on this narrow scaffold. The “laws of the road” being different on the Continent from those in Old England, my plan was to screw myself up into the smallest compass, close to the rock, and thus allow passengers to steal by without opposition. We found that comparatively few penetrated to the extremity of the cavern and the source of the Thermæ—the majority being frightened, or finding themselves incapable of bearing the sight of the rapid torrent under their feet, without any solid security against precipitation into the infernal gulf. To the honour of the English ladies, I must say that they explored the source of the waters with the most undaunted courage, and without entertaining a thought of returning from a half-finished tour to the regions below.[40]

Advancing still farther into the cavern, another phenomenon presented itself, for which we were unable to account at first. Every now and then we observed a gush of vapour or smoke (we could not tell which) issue from the further extremity of the rock on the left, spreading itself over the walls of the cavern, and ascending towards the crevice in the dome. It looked like an explosion of steam; but the roar of the torrent would have prevented us from hearing any noise, if such had occurred. We soon found, however, that it was occasioned by the rush of vapour from the cavern in which the thermal source is situated, every time the door was opened for the ingress or egress of visitors to and from this natural vapour-bath. At such moments the whole scene is so truly Tartarean, that had Virgil and Dante been acquainted with it, they need not have strained their imaginations in portraying the ideal abodes of fallen angels, infernal gods, and departed spirits, but painted aHadesfrom Nature, with all the advantage of truth and reality in its favour.

Our ingress occupied nearly half an hour, when we found ourselves at the extremity of the parapet, on a jutting ledge of rock, and where the cavern assumed an unusually sombre complexion, in consequence of the cliffs actually uniting, or nearly so, at the summit of the dome. Here, too, theTaminastruggled, roared, and foamed through the narrow, dark, and rugged gorge with tremendous impetuosity and deafening noise, the sounds being echoed and reverberated a thousand times by the fractured angles and projections of the cavern. We were now at the source of theThermæ. Ascending some steps cut out of the rock, we came to a door, which opened, and instantly enveloped us in tepid steam. We entered a grotto in the solid marble, but of what dimensions we could form no estimate, since it was dark as midnight, and full of dense and fervid vapour.We were quickly in an universal perspiration. The guides hurried us forward into another grotto, still deeper in the rock, where the steam was suffocating, and where we exuded at every pore. It was as dark as pitch. An owl would not have been able to see an eagle within a foot of its saucer eyes. We were told to stoop and stretch out our hands. We did so, and immersed them in the boiling—or, at least, the gurgling, source of thePfeffers. We even quaffed at this fountain of Hygeia.

Often had we slept in damp linen, while travelling through Holland, Germany, and Switzerland. We had now, by way of variety, a waking set of integuments saturated with moistureab interno, as well asab externo, to such an extent, that I believe each of us would have weighed at least half a stone more at our exit than on our entrance into this stew-pan of the Grison Alps.

On emerging into the damp, gelid, and gloomy atmosphere of the cavern, every thing appeared of a dazzling brightness after our short immersion in the Cimmerian darkness of the grotto. The transition of temperature was equally as abrupt as that of light. The vicissitude could have been little less than 50 or 60 degrees of Fahrenheit in one instant, with all the disadvantage of dripping garments! It was like shifting the scene, with more than theatrical celerity, from the Black Hole of Calcutta to Fury Beach, or the snows of Nova Zembla. Some of the party, less experienced in the effects of travelling than myself, considered themselves destined to illustrate the well-known allegory of the discontented—and that they would inevitably carry away with them a large cargo of that which thousands come here annually to get rid of—rheumatism. I confess that I was not without some misgivings myself on this point, seeing that we had neither the means of changing our clothes nor of drying them—except by the heat of our bodies in the mountain breeze. The Goddess of Health, however, who is nearly related to the Genius of Travelling, preserved us from all the bad consequences, thermometrical and hygrometrical, of these abrupt vicissitudes.[41]

We retrograded along the narrow plank that suspended us over the profound abyss with caution, fear, and astonishment. TheTaminaseemed to roar more loud and savage beneath us, as if incensed at our safe retreat. The sun had passed the meridian, and the gorge had assumed a far more lugubrious aspect than it wore on our entrance. The shivered rocks and splintered pinnacles that rose on each side of the torrent, in gothic arches of altitude sublime, seemed to frown on our retreating footsteps—whilethe human figures that moved at a distance along the crazy plank, before and behind us, frequently lost their just proportions, and assumed the most grotesque and extraordinary shapes and dimensions, according to the degree of light admitted by the narrow fissure above, and the scarcely discernible aperture at the extremity of this wonderful gorge. TheTamina, meanwhile, did not fail to play its part in the gorgeous scene—astonishing the eye by the rapidity of its movements, and astounding the ear by the vibrations of its echoes. It seemed to growl more furiously as we receded from the depths of the crevasse.

At length we gained the portal, and, as the sun was still darting his bright rays into the deepest recesses of the ravine, glancing from the marble rocks, and glittering on the boiling torrent, the sudden transition from Cimmerian gloom to dazzling day-light, appeared like enchantment. While crossing the trembling bridge, I looked back on a scene which can never be eradicated from my memory. It is the most singular and impressive I have ever beheld on this globe, and compared with which, theBrunnensare “bubbles” indeed![42]

While examining the waters, the baths, and the internal economy of the vastvaletudinariumthat stands in this savage locality, the bell announced the approach of the second, or superior dinner, which happened that day to be rather later than usual. TheSalon, overlooking the torrent of the Tamina, was soon replenished with guests of the better order; the canaille, or swarm of inferior invalids having dined two hours or more previously, in the commonSalle a Manger. It needed but little professional discrimination to class and specify them. The majority proclaimed the causes of their visits to the Pfeffers. Rheumatism, scrofula, and cutaneous diseases, formed the prominent features in this motley assemblage. Invalids, with chronic complaints, real or imaginary, such as abound at all watering places, foreign and domestic, were mingled in the group; while a small portion, including our own party, evinced anything but corporeal ailments—unless a “canine appetite” at a genuine Germantable-d’hôtemay be ranked among the evils to which English flesh is heir. Some monks, from the neighbouring monastery, (to which the Baths belong,) took rank, and indeed precedence, in this small division. The mountain breeze and fervid sun of the Convent of Pfeffers had bronzed them with much of that nut-brown complexion, which travelling exercise in the open air had conferred on their British visitors; while their sleek cheeks and portly corporations proved, almost to a demonstration, that the holy fathers descended into the profound ravine of the Tamina to give their benediction to the waters, rather than to drink them—and to add a sacred zest to the viands of theRefectory, by the alacrity with which they swallowed them. Their appearance illustrated the truth of the adage—“What will not poison will fatten.”

The Waters ofPfeffershave neither taste, smell, nor colour. They will keep for ten years, without depositing a sediment, or losing their transparency. But we are not to infer that they are destitute of medicinal powers, because they possess no sensible properties. In their chemical composition, they have hitherto shewn but few ingredients; and those of the simpler saline substances, common to most mineral springs.[43]It doesnot follow, however, that they contain no active materials because chemistry is not able to detect them. Powerful agents may be diffused in waters, and which are incapable of analysis, or destructible by the process employed for that purpose. The only sure test isexperienceof their effects on the human body. It is not probable that the Baths of Pfeffers would have attracted such multitudes of invalids, annually, from Switzerland, Germany, and Italy; and that for six centuries, if their remedial agency had been null or imaginary.[44]Their visitors are not of that fashionable class, who run to watering-places for pleasure rather than for health—or, to dispel the vapours of the town by the pure air of the coast or the country. Yet, as human nature is essentially the same in all ranks of society, I have no doubt that much of the fame acquired by the Baths of Pfeffers, has been owing to the auxiliary influence of air, locality, change of scene, moral impressions, and the peculiar mode of using the waters. Their temperature—100° of Fahren.—certain physical phenomena which they evince, and the nature of the diseases which they are reported to cure, leave little doubt in my mind that their merits, though overrated, like those of all other mineral springs, are very considerable.

The disorders for which they are most celebrated, are rheumatic and neuralgic pains, glandular swellings, and cutaneous eruptions. But they are also resorted to by a host of invalids afflicted with those anomalous and chronic affections, to which nosology has assigned no name, and for which the Pharmacopœia affords very few remedies. As the Baths belong to the neighbouring Convent of Pfeffers, and, as the holy fathers afford not only spiritual consolation to the patients, but medical assistance in directing the means of cure, there is every reason to believe, or, at least, to hope, that the moral, or rather divine influence of Religion co-operates with mere physical agency, in removing disease and restoring health.

The Waters of Pfeffers are led from their sombre source in the cavern, along the narrow scaffold before described, into a series of baths scooped out of the rocky foundation of this vast hospital, each bath capable of accommodating a considerable number of people at the same time. Thethermal waters are constantly running into and out of the baths—or rather through them, so that the temperature is preserved uniform, and the waters themselves in a state of comparative purity, notwithstanding the numbers immersed in them. The baths are arched with stone—the window to each is small, admitting little light, and less air:—and, as the doors are kept shut, except when the bathers are entering or retiring, the whole space not occupied by water, is full of a dense vapour, as hot as the Thermæ themselves. The very walls of the baths are warm, and always dripping with moisture. Such are theSudatoriain which the German, Swiss, and Italian invalids indulge more luxuriously than ever did the Romans in the Baths of Caracalla. In these they lie daily, from two, to six, eight, ten—and sometimes sixteen hours![45]The whole exterior of the body is thus soaked, softened—parboiled; while the interior is drenched by large quantities swallowed by the mouth—the patient, all this while, breathing the dense vapour that hovers over the baths. The Waters of Pfeffers, therefore, inhaled and imbibed, exhaled and absorbed, for so many hours daily, must permeate every vessel, penetrate every gland, and percolate through every pore of the body. So singular a process of human maceration in one of Nature’s cauldrons, conducted with German patience and German enthusiasm, must, I think, relax many a rigid muscle—unbend many a contracted joint—soothe many an aching nerve—clear many an unsightly surface—resolve many an indurated gland—open many an obstructed passage—and restore many a suspended function. The fervid and detergent streams of the Pfeffers, in fact, are actually turned, daily and hourly, through the Augean stable of the human constitution, and made to rout out a host of maladies indomitable by the prescriptions of the most sage physicians. The fable ofMedea’srevival of youthful vigour in wasted limbs is very nearly realized in the mountains of the Grisons, and in the savage ravine of theTamina. Lepers are here purified—the lame commit their crutches to the flames—the tumid throat and scrofulous neck are reduced to symmetrical dimensions—and sleep revisits the victim of rheumatic pains and neuralgic tortures.

These are the titles given to a system of healing human maladies by means of perspiration and cold water. It is making rapid progress in Germany, that land of ideality—and the tribe of other pathys.Homœopathy—allopathy—and even spa-pathy are in danger. Although it is no new system, being practised for a long time by the Russians, yet it is only about fifteen years since Priestnitz, a Silesian peasant, introduced it amongst his native mountains, and in a shape and manner differing somewhat from the Russian practice.

There can be no doubt that the application of cold water to the surface of the body, whether generally or locally, is a powerful agent, when skilfully managed. The chill that is painfully felt on the first plunge—the recoil of the circulation from the surface to the great central organs and vessels—the shrinking of all external parts—the rapid abstraction of animal heat—the hurried respiration—and last and most important of all—the reaction which follows the bath—are all important phenomena, that may work much good or evil in the animal economy, according as they are watched and regulated. The reaction after the cold bath is not less curious than the recoil. The heart and great internal organs seem overwhelmed and stunned, for a time, by the first shock. But soon after emerging from the bath, they begin to recover energy, and to free themselves from the volume of congested blood, under which they laboured. They then drive the circulation to the surface with increasing force, filling and distending the vessels of the skin beyond the normal or medium condition. With this distension comes a glow of heat all over the body, and a feeling of elasticity, or bien-être, which it is difficult to describe. A third series of phenomena now commence. All the glandular organs of the body now take on an augmented degree of activity, and their secretions become more copious than before the bath. Contemporary with this increase of secretion internally, the skin itself acts more vigorously, and not only the insensible, but the sensible perspiration becomes more copious. In fact, the cold bath gives rise to a series, or rather three series of phenomena, very closely resembling a paroxysm of ague—viz. the cold, hot, and sweating stages. After a few hours all the functions return to their normal or usual routine of duty.

But things do not always run thus smoothly. If any particular internal organ be much disordered in function, or at all changed in structure, it is very apt to be so overpowered by the recoil or first shock of the cold bath, that when reaction comes on, it is only partial and imperfect, in consequence of the weak organ or organs remaining in a state of congestion, and incapable of freeing themselves from the overplus of blood determined upon them by the retreat of the circulation from the surface. Then we have headache, lassitude, drowsiness, general malaise, or local uneasiness, imperfect reaction, scanty or disordered secretions, with many other uncomfortable feelings, instead of that elasticity and buoyancy which have been already noticed.

Before proceeding further on the cold bath, let us glance at the peculiar manner in which it is employed by the hydro-therapeutic doctorsof Germany, who have now establishments in many of the principal towns.

About four or five o’clock in the morning, the patient is wrapped up to the chin (while in bed) in a thick woollen shirt. Outside of this is placed another covering of down, fur, or any warm and impermeable material. In a short time the disengagement of animal heat from the body thus enveloped, forms a fervid atmosphere around him, which soon induces a copious perspiration, in the greater number of individuals. It has been observed that, in diseased parts, as for instance, in the joints of gouty people, the perspiration was longest in breaking out. When the skin is obstinate, friction and other means are used to accelerate the cutaneous discharge. When the physician judges that the perspiration has been sufficient, the patient is quickly disrobed and plunged into a cold bath, which is kept ready at the side of his bed. The first shock is very unpleasant; but that over, the invalid feels very comfortable, and when the process is likely to prove favourable, there is frequently observed on the surface of the water a kind of viscid scum, the supposed morbid matter thrown off from the body. The period of immersion in the cold bath is carefully watched, for if protracted too long it proves hurtful, or even dangerous. Some people will not bear the cold immersion above a minute—others are allowed to remain till the approach of a second shiver. Where the patient is very delicate or weak, the temperature of the bath is raised a little. In other cases, the bath is artificially depressed below the natural temperature of the water.

On emerging from the bath, the patient is quickly dressed, and immediately commences exercise, and drinks abundantly of cold water. The limit to this ingurgitation is sense of pain or weight in the stomach. The patient, although rather averse to the cold drink at first, soon becomes fond of it, and will swallow fifteen or twenty goblets with a keen relish. After the promenade and cold drink is over, a nourishing breakfast is taken. All stimulating or exciting beverages are entirely prohibited. The appetite generally becomes keen, and the digestion, even of dyspeptics, strong and effective during this course. Between breakfast and dinner is variously employed, according to the strength of the patients or the nature of the disease. Some take riding or pedestrian exercise—others gymnastics—and a few have more cold water, as a plunging or shower bath.

The dinner is to be light, and soon after mid-day. It is generally taken with a keen appetite. During the three or four hours after dinner, all exercise of mind or body is forbidden, but sleep is not to be indulged in. Towards evening, some of the stronger patients repeat the same process which they underwent in the morning; but those who are weak, or in whom the crisis is approaching, only take cold water to drink in moderation.After a slight supper the patient retires to sleep, in order that he may early resume the routine of the water-cure.

The professors of this system vary the mode of application almost infinitely—especially the external application of the cold water, according to the general or local seat of the complaint. They act very much on the doctrine of revulsion or derivation. Thus when there are symptoms of fulness or congestion about the head or the chest, a half-bath or hip-bath of cold water is employed, disregarding the first impression of cold on the lower parts of the body, but looking to thereactionwhich is to take place there, and to the consequent derivation of blood from the head and chest. Foot-baths, cold lotions, fomentations, and poultices are variously used, according to the nature or seat of the malady.

Like the spa waters, thishydrotherapeiaproduces, in a great many instances, acrisis. For some days the patients feel themselves much more energetic and comfortable than before the course was begun; but after a time “a veritable state of fever is produced, the result of this general effervescence.”[46]Then the symptoms of the complaint, whatever it may be, are all exasperated and acquire an increase of intensity—even old diseases, that were forgotten, will sometimes re-appear—but all this commotion is the precursor of a salutary crisis and a return to health. A kind of prickly heat, with itching of the skin, is a common occurrence in the course of the cure. “The effects produced even on organic diseases by this hydro-therapeutic treatment would convince the most sceptical of its wonderful efficacy.”—Engel.

The diseases to which this remedy is now applied in Germany are numerous and very different. Fevers, even of the most inflammatory kind, are said to yield to it. Pure inflammations of vital organs are fearlessly submitted to it. The first case related by Dr. Engel, is one of pneumonia, well marked, in a young girl who had been exposed to a current of cold air after violent exercise in the heat of the day. Dr. Weiss ordered her to be enveloped in a blanket, wet with cold water, and then other blankets over the wet one, with plenty of cold water to drink. Some amelioration of the symptoms followed; but in two hours they were again intense. Two foreign physicians accompanied Dr. E. to the bed-side of the patient, and prognosticated a fatal termination unless she were bled, and the cold water treatment declined. Dr. E. with the greatest confidence, ordered the blanket to be again wetted with cold water. This second application was followed by increase of the burning heat, and also by delirium. Notwithstanding the remonstrances of the foreigners, Dr. E. was still firm in his purpose—and ordered the wet blankets to be applied every half-hour.No change took place till after the sixth application, when the kidneys acted copiously. The seventh application was followed by diminution of the thirst and heat—the patient became more tranquil—began to perspire—and fell into a short sleep. The perspiration continued copious for twenty-two hours, and was kept up by the drinking of large quantities of cold water. The perspiration having ceased, the patient was put into a cold half-bath (slipper) where the respiration became more free. On being taken out and covered over she perspired copiously. The wet blankets were now applied only twice a day, with an occasional half-bath. On the fifth day she was well. (Weiss.)

Before proceeding farther, it will be proper to explain that the transition from a hot bath to a cold one, even in a state of perspiration, is not half so dangerous as most people imagine. It is well known that if we jump out of hot water into cold, we resist the shock, and bear the effects of the latter better than if we took the plunge without any preparation. But then there is a strong prejudice thatperspirationis an insuperable bar to the application of cold water to the surface. If the individual has come into a state of perspiration from bodily exercise, and especially if he be fatigued or exhausted—then the cold water would be dangerous. But this is not the case, to any extent, when he is warmed either by the hot bath, or by the accumulation of heat generated in his own body. This is proved by authentic facts which have come under my own observation. Forty years ago, when the Russian troops were encamped in the islands of Guernsey and Jersey, the soldiers constructed rude stone huts or ovens along the beech, for vapour baths. Into these they put stones, and heated them by fire, when they poured water over them, and thus filled the hut with a dense vapour. When the men had continued in this rude vapour-bath till they were in a state of perspiration, they leaped into the sea, and swam about till they were tired. All this was done, partly for health, partly for pleasure. It is well-known to all northern travellers that the Russians are in the habit of steaming themselves in the vapour-baths, and then directly rolling themselves in the snow. Every one, too, must have observed postillions dashing their foaming and perspiring horses into any convenient water at the end of their journey, without the least fear of their animals being injured by the dip.

Here then is a complete counter-part, or rather prototype of thehydro-sudo-pathy, as already described. But there is one process which will appear incredible to most people—that of procuring perspiration by means of blankets wetted with cold water. Let us see whether an illustration of this may not be found. Every one who has read the Waverly Novels must have been struck with the singular practice pursued by some Highlanders (outlaws I think) who were obliged to pass many winter nights unsheltered on the freezing mountains. When they were desirous of sleeping, they dipped their plaids in the freezing water of the nearest pool or stream,and, wrapping themselves in this dripping and gelid mantle, went quietly to sleep! So long as the plaid kept wet, the Highlander kept warm, and slept soundly; but the moment it got dry, the man was awoke by the cold, and proceeded to the brook or stream to saturate his bed-clothes again with cold water. Here we have the prototype of the German process described in the case of the girl with inflamed lungs. By what process ofreasoningthe Silesian peasant and the Celtic mountaineer, arrived at the knowledge of these curious facts, would be difficult to imagine. There was probably no reasoning in either case, but chance, observation, and experience.

It is sometimes more easy to explain a phenomenon when discovered, than to arrive at it by any process of reasoning previously. The wet plaid by confining the animal heat of the Highlander, soon occasioned a warm atmosphere around his body, which kept him comfortable. But as soon as the plaid got dry and its texturepervious, then the animal heat rapidly escaped, and the feeling of cold dispelled sleep. In the case of pneumonia related by Dr. Weiss, the wet blanket was surmounted by several other blankets, which effectually prevented the escape of animal heat, which would soon accumulate and eventuate in perspiration. In such cases there would be a chill at first, succeeded by reaction, heat, and transpiration. We see this exemplified every day, where cold lotions are applied to an inflamed part. If the clothes are defended from the external air, they soon become warm, and form a fomentation—whereas, if exposed to a current of air, they will almost freeze the part by evaporation. Dr. Weiss’s patient would never have perspired, if the wet blanket had not been covered by dry ones.

We are now prepared to glance at some other cases recorded by the professors of hydropathy.

Dr. Engin relates the following cases of catarrhal and rheumatic fever. A delicate female, aged 30 years, was taken ill on the 27th of April 1837, with the abovementioned complaint, but was under an allopathic doctor till the 30th, when Dr. E. found her labouring under acute pains in the joints—inflamed throat—difficulty of swallowing—joints swelled and red—inability to move—pulse 100. The patient was enveloped in a cold wet blanket, over which several dry ones were placed, twice a day, for three days consecutively. She soon began to perspire copiously each time of application. On the fourth day she was plunged into a cold bath while deluged with sweat. This was repeated twelve days in succession, the inflamed joints being kept, in the intervals, covered with cold wetted cloths. During all this time she was ordered to drink plenty of cold water. The fever and all the other symptoms gradually diminished, and finally disappeared. Towards the end of the treatment a critical eruption appeared on the skin.

This was certainly as unfavourable a case for the hydropathic treatmentas could well be imagined; and the fact of its being put in practice, even with impunity, may afford matter for reflection.

Cases are detailed by Dr. Engin and others, where scarlatina, erysipelas, herpes, and other cutaneous eruptions, were treated on hydropathic principles, and seemingly with success. Hæmorrhages of various kinds, from nose, lungs, bowels, &c. are subjected to this treatment, as well as a host of chronic maladies, including constipation, hæmorrhoids, amenorrhœa, chlorosis, liver complaints, jaundice, gout, rheumatism, melancholia, hypochondriasis, hysteria, epilepsy, tic douloureux, gastrodynia, scrofula, rickets, &c.

Now, although I should be far from recommending this practice in many of the complaints where it has been employed, yet, as the institutions for the hydropathic treatment are now spread all over Germany, and open to the inspection of all medical men, (unlike the hocus-pocus fraud, mystery, and deception of homœopathy,) it would be unwise not to examine into a system which shocks our prejudices rather than runs counter to historical facts and philosophical reasoning.

At all events, this system corroborates a practice which I have now followed and publicly recommended for many years; namely, the “Calido-frigid Sponging, orLavation.” This consists in sponging the face, throat, and upper part of the chest, night and morning, withhotwater, and then immediately withcoldwater. I have also recommended that children should be habituated to this sponging all over the body, as the means of inuring them to, and securing them from, the injuries produced by atmospheric vicissitudes. It is the best preservative which I know against face-aches, tooth-aches, (hot and cold water being alternately used to rinse the mouth,) ear-aches, catarrhs, &c. so frequent and distressing in this country. But its paramount virtue is that of preserving many a constitution from pulmonary consumption, the causes of which are often laid in repeated colds, and in the susceptibility to atmospheric impressions.[47]

END OF THE FIRST PILGRIMAGE.

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