THE WORLD'S WANDERERS.

“Night's candles are burned out, and jocund mornStands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops”

though spoken by the most sensitively vibrant voice in the world, can never come near the real dawn breaking across real mountains. But the point is that those two lines composed of simple English words have power, if we pay them respect, to create the dawn within the mind, and to supply the spirit with that beauty which is its very breath.

If this patience with words, this respect for the familiar fine things of our native tongue, this desire to make them yield up their strength and beauty, if this has nothing to do with healthy living I don't know what has. William Wordsworth's—

“And vital feelings of delightShall rear her form to stately height”

is only a metrical expression of a great and practical truth. You do not need to be a “Christian Scientist” to know that ideas and emotions can affect the stoop of the shoulders or the lines of the mouth. Other people besides “Eugenists” have observed that ugly or mean-spirited parents seldom have beautiful children.

But though the power of ideas is a commonplace,and though psychologists tell us how much we may improve mental concentration by letting the words of any sentence call up each its own picture, what they a omit to do is to recognise the need of the human spirit for beauty. You can concentrate your thought on the list of pickles in a grocer's price list: it is doubtless a good exercise. But the same exercise directed to some great phrase, such as Emerson'sTrust thyself: ever' heart vibrates to that iron string; or some vivid lyrical image such asAll the trees of the field shall clap their hands, or even a complete poem of simple words but permanent beauty, such as that one of Wordsworth's beginningI wandered lonely as a Cloud; this will not only improve concentration and sharpen memory: it will enrich the mind with ever-available sources of inspiration, courage and joy.

Edgar J. Saxon.

Tell me, thou star, whose wings of lightSpeed thee in thy fiery flight,In what cavern of the nightWill thy pinions close now?Tell me, moon, thou pale and greyPilgrim of heaven's homeless way,In what depth of night or day.Seekest thou repose now?Weary wind, who wanderestLike the world's rejected guest,Hast thou still some secret nestOn the tree or billow?

Tell me, thou star, whose wings of lightSpeed thee in thy fiery flight,In what cavern of the nightWill thy pinions close now?

Tell me, moon, thou pale and greyPilgrim of heaven's homeless way,In what depth of night or day.Seekest thou repose now?

Weary wind, who wanderestLike the world's rejected guest,Hast thou still some secret nestOn the tree or billow?

Percy Bysshe Shelley.

Building castles in the air has always been one of the favourite amusements of mankind. To it we owe much, not only of the zest of life, but also of motive power for overcoming difficulties and reaching out towards new possibilities. Yet all literature, and tradition that is earlier than any written literature, is full of a deep note of warning; over and over again we see in the dim past the shadow of a tower that was built in vain, of walls that were piled too high and toppled into ruin, of crests that tapped the thunder-clouds and drew down lightning to their own destruction. Evidently man has seen danger in his own desire! The castle must be built with wisdom as well as with industry and boldness if it is to escape disaster and to become a storehouse, a safe defence or a vantage-ground for surveying earth and sky.

There is one obvious precaution we should observe in building our castles, and that is to realise that all which we imagine and think about tends sooner or later to externalise itself and pass into action. Every idea tends to glide into an ideal. Nearly all thinkers have recognised this, and have seen that morality lies much farther back than action, farther back than conscious will. Banquo had dreams of ambition, as had Macbeth, but they dealt differently with them; while Macbeth allowed his visions to lead him on to treachery and murder, Banquo prayed against the temptations that came to him in sleep. To most of us imagination, sleeping or waking, comes in less dramatic form, but we should all think more sanely and act more wisely if we interposed a definite revision by the conscious mind and will of all our plans and ideals between their (perhaps quite automatic) formation in our imagination and their translation into fact. Slack muscle should go with the daydream or picture of the future; we should not strike or clench or lift until we have decided that the actionis right and just and wise. The girl who counted her chickens and broke the eggs is a true enough example: every doctor and coroner knows many instances of results far more tragic.

But sometimes the vision has nothing in it but what is pure and good and noble. Are there any dangers even here?

There is this danger always, that we find the picture so lovely and so satisfying that we cannot summon up courage and energy to turn away from it towards the serious work which it suggests. The castle in the air is radiant and tall, but it is generally meant as a model for a tougher building made out of common earth, by toil and pain, amidst mud and dust. It is so much easier, as Sordello knew, to imagine than to do. Actual circumstances, real life, other people all this that lies round us is sterner stuff than our easily moulded material of dreams. Who has not at some time or other lain sleepily in bed of a morning and gone through in thought the processes of getting up, until a louder call or an alarum bell has awakened the realisation that the task is not yet begun? Who has not been tempted to shirk practice of some sort in thinking of a prize? Who has not sometimes built expectation higher and higher until his demands of fate have become so great that, in despair of making good, he has let the whole plan slip away into the valley of forgotten dreams?

These dangers, the almost involuntary carrying out of unworthy aims that have been cherished in thought and the loss of vigour for real achievement, due to too easy an indulgence in blameless aspiration, are fairly obvious and have long been recognised.

There is another that has been seen from time to time and occasionally expressed.[16]We have seen that too loose a dream-world may make the world in which we live seem dull and ordinary. But is not the converse at least as often true? If our thought-world is toonarrow, too selfish or too weak, all our ordinary work, sound and compact though it may be, is stultified, misdirected, often wasted. We all know how in the industrial world something more than industry is needed; in the emotional world something more than a clumsy and unapprehending goodwill. We need a certain insight to turn these solid qualities of labour and feeling to the best account. “A man's reach should exceed his grasp,” a great poet tells us, and even the birds or beavers do not go on quite blindly with their building, but, when effort on effort has been destroyed by wind and water or man's interference, they at last accommodate their instinct to circumstances so as to give themselves a better chance of fulfilling their deeper purpose. In many ways we have hardly outgrown the beaver stage: wars, accidents, disease, disputes—how many times must we try over again the same path which has led us before into trouble and disaster before we put our imagination seriously to work on the problem and try to find some more complete solution?

Of all the dangers of the use of the imagination, perhaps the greatest of all is the neglect to use it, the denial of it and its consequent starvation.

E.M. Cobham.

[16]Mrs Book sees an allusion to this danger, as well as to the first, in the warnings against covetousness in the Tenth Commandment.

[17]See the article, “The Play Spirit,” in theNovember issue.

With your contributor's description of the play spirit, that happy leisure from self and its responsibilities in order that time and thought and heart may be filled with wider inspiration, most of your readers will, I think, entirely agree, and all of us will be grateful for the spirited claim on behalf of “play.”

The one criticism that occurs to the mind is that a touch of professionalism, of patronage towards the ordinary person, has crept into the author's thought and peeps out through many of the sentences.

“Common men” ... “ordinary everyday people”... “average humanity,” ... “a worker” who ... “cannot play”; does the writer of the Play Spirit really show us what is in their hearts? He is an artist in words, he is a keen admirer of other arts, he is interested in thinking; it seems all but impossible to him that anyone can have “freedom” without the power of expressing it, without even the consciousness of its possession.

We are all too apt, I think, to imagine that our own discoveries of the mystery and magic of life are peculiar to ourselves, or shared only with a sympathetic few, passed on sometimes (by theveryfew who have both will and power to do so) to such of the outsiders as are interested enough to enter into that enchanted garden and take gifts from it. But has not the supreme discovery of the greatest artists, philosophers and teachers been that the “everyday people”dolive as deeply and broadly as the thinkers and artists? They are inarticulate and cannot tell what they see, but to them life is made amusing, or interesting, or consecrated according to their temperament.

Who can say what the Cornish sea means to that tired worker? At least it seems a boldness that is almost insolence to decide what it didnotmean to her!

Has not every life its revelations? Is it not because we donotsee as God does that some one particular life which strikes across our path cannot reveal its revelation over again to us?

Surely “the commonplace is the highest place.” Or rather, there are no hierarchies of the soul. Artist or seamstress or carpenter, we live by the glory that flows to us through whatever curtains of environment are round us.

I have not a word of criticism for the writer's ideal. All that I would suggest is that the ideal is really present in the world, “common” as the “everyday” flowers at his feet. Not all can sing or paint or write, but many more can laugh or run and all, perhaps, can love and pray.

L.E. Hawks.

[18]This is article has been specially written as a preface forHealth Through Breathing, by Olga Lazarus, shortly to be published (1s. net).

To breathe correctly and sufficiently is to live more healthily. This dictum is incontrovertible, and it becomes my pleasant duty herein to demonstrate its truthfulness. And, after a careful perusal of the hundred exercises which the authoress has so clearly and succinctly described, I am still more convinced of the very great, one might almost say of the tremendous, importance of deep-breathing exercises. What has struck me so forcibly in this little book is the fact that there is no undue enthusiasm evident; no embellishment of the subject; no extravagant claims for the system advocated; just a plain sane, sober and intelligent description of procedures of immense value to all who would either keep, or improve, their health. The authoress has, as it were, laid before the reader a feast of good things in the way of physical culture, and leaves it at that. She seems to have brought into purview a splendid variation of the exercises, and indeed every mode of breathing and exercise likely to be beneficial—to those in health as out of it.

Reverting for a moment to the supreme importance of the subject, I may say that it has of late years come home to me more than ever, and with greater insistency, that innumerable ills of to-day are due to faulty breathing and lack of correct physical exercises generally. I wonder how many of us could conscientiously say that we devote fifteen or twenty minutes regularly every day to the system? And yet such a great deal could be done for health in that time! No, we “haven't time,” or we “oversleep ourselves so often,” or we make some such other flimsy excuse; but of course we ought to “make time,” we ought not to “oversleep ourselves.” The fact is, rather, that most of us are too lazy to gothrough the exercises, even though we may know of their transcendent benefit. In the words of the poet: “Let us, then, be up and doing”—that is, up in time in the morning in order to be going through exercises such as described in this little volume.

It is within my personal knowledge, and must be within the personal knowledge of every actively engaged physician, that but very few of us yet have any idea, in spite of all the teaching and the advocacy of it, of really deep and scientific breathing. If the system could be made quite general and enforced upon us—especially when young or adolescent—we should not see, as we do now,thousandswalking about the streets whose nostrils are too narrow through insufficient breathing, whose lungs are not properly inflated as they inspire; and, as a consequence, who have neither the bloom nor the carriage of health.

Perhaps if I show here how vastly important it is for us to have our blood well oxygenated, it may be some sort of encouragement for Mrs Lazarus's readers to persevere with andwork into their livesthe system she advocates and describes.

If we did not renew the oxygen in our lungs to a sufficient extent, we should die in a few minutes. We can do without food for many days; without water for less days, but only for a few minutes without oxygen. Anything which tends to increase the intake of this vitally important element, whether deeper breathing or exercises, will have a very pronounced effect upon our general health. Now deep breathing is,par excellence, the way to bring about this desirable condition. It may interest the readers of this little book if I remind them that in the ordinary way the total capacity of the lungs is about 340 cubic inches; as a rule, the amount of air breathed amounts only to some 20 or 30 cubic inches, but this, by special effort, can be increased by some 110 cubic inches. Thus it is demonstrated how much more air we could take into the lungs by better and deeper breathing, thereby securing, sooner or later, a greater natural expansion of thelungs, with the result, of course, of improved health generally.

It would surprise most people if they tested their breathing capacity by the aid of the spirometer, to discover how inefficiently they did breathe; in other words, how much below the normal was the amount of air they were usually inspiring. Encouragement might also be found in the matter—incentive, that is, to learn how to breathe and exercise correctly and scientifically—if mention were here made categorically of the very profound influences upon certain physiological processes of our organisation which are brought about if we would but mend our ways in this respect. Space will only allow of a few such to be detailed.

1. The circulation is improved and equalised. This implies much more than appears on the surface: it means that the blood is made to flow from any congested internal organ (such as the liver, stomach, etc.) towards the peripheries—that is, the extremities and everywhere where there is the capillary system—the changing-place between the venous and the arterial blood; thus we at the same time warm our extremities and relieve internal congestion. In other words, “to bring the blood to the surface” in many conditions of ill-health is of paramount importance.

2. It will strengthen the action of the heart and lungs. For lack of proper breathing exercises the heart's walls get thin, the expansive power of the lungs' tissue gets less, and as a consequence, when any little extra strain is thrown upon either, permanent damage is often the result.

3. In any tendency to constipation, indigestion and similar conditions, such exercises are especially beneficial, and that both by flushing the system with more oxygen and by mechanically exerting pressure on the different organs—thus giving those latter what is actually a good massaging!

4. Indirectly, such exercises must of necessity be splendid for “nerves,” as we thus get these supplied with a larger amount of purified blood, and of coursethis must result in better and heightened nerve and brain action.

And all this—and much more which we have not space enough to deal with—being so, it might now be well asked, who and what class of individuals would benefit by these exercises. The list is a long one, and would include practically all growing children and adolescents—in order that adenoids, narrow chests, debility in general, malnutrition and a host of other abnormal states might be either cured or prevented. Innumerable adults would also benefit by such exercises: those who are in health, in order to keep so; those who are depressed mentally, or who are suffering from constipation, dyspepsia, anæmia, obesity, debility, etc.

Even those who are “getting on” in years could, with care and caution, go through such exercises to advantage, providing, that is, that their heart, lungs and blood vessels are fairly normal; it is only where there is serious organic disease such exercises must be withheld.

Thus we have a big field for such a system which Mrs Lazarus has described so fully in this little work of hers; it deserves wide recognition, and my final word to the reader is not only to keep the book as a “boon companion,” but to encourage others to purchase it and to carry out its most excellent teachings.

J. Stenson Hooker, M.D.

Medicine is a progressive science—and art, if we judge by the statistics given of the fall in the rate of mortality. Even this, however, must be carefully analysed, because a good deal of the fall of mortality is due to the great reduction in the birthrate which has taken place in the last twenty years. Still, after this has been allowed for, there is probably a balance in the doctors' favour—something to thegood of the science and art of medicine. Doubtless the science is improved and the practical advice offered by medical men is better and more effectual than it used to be.

A layman, nevertheless, may be forgiven if, with all due deference, he is tempted to believe that many of the benefits attributed to medicine have been achieved through attention to sanitation—cleanliness and ventilation. Of course this is due to the work of science, which necessarily includes the members of the medical profession, but it is not due to medical sciencequamedical science.

The terms ‘sanitation’ and ‘sanitary’ nearly always connote only ideas associated with cleanliness, free ventilation, etc. They scarcely connote ideas of food management, or, if they do, it is only to the extent of inferring that food shall not be adulterated or of bad quality—and perhaps that there shall be enough of it.

Such questions as what food shall we eat, and how much; what are the real reasons for taking food into the body, whether it is to give strength and heat to the body or only to supply the body's waste, as Dr Rabagliati contends—these and other relevant questions are usually left to unorthodox members of the medical profession to declare upon. They seem to be very important questions, but we do not find that they were discussed—or ever mentioned—at the thirty-fourth International Medical Congress, which completed its sittings several months ago.

Obviously, the practical questions of food supply are answered very differently, according as onebelievesthey must be answered one way or another, as, for instance, in Dr Rabagliati's or Dr Haig's way. But that they are questions not worthy of consideration by doctors in congress may be taken as an ominous sign.

It must not be forgotten that we owe many valuable discoveries of medical science to qualified members of the profession, just as discoveries of mechanical scienceare made by men working at their respective trades. We have sorrowfully to admit, however, that nearly all the great achievements upon which medicine plumes herself are in the direction of increasing the doctors' power over his patient, and seldom of giving his patient power over disease. It is also true that the advocacy by unorthodox members of the profession of simple and natural remedies often involves them in a charge of charlatanism, and subjects them to persecution by medical associations.

If the medical profession were all that it is supposed to be, it might be good that the reformer should suffer in solitude while his experiments and methods were subjected to adequate tests and criticism. If the associated physicians and surgeons jealously guarded the public from quackery while they impartially investigated every fresh discovery, the true reformer would welcome the protection afforded him from the “counter-currents of senseless clamour” within the doctors' own ranks, occasioned by party and vested interests.

It may be true that “loneliness tends to save the Seer from becoming a charlatan and to make of him a true Reformer.” But it is not that peculiar loneliness of the Seer that the medical trade unions afford the reforming physician. That is inevitably and sufficiently accorded him by the “unwillingness of the masses to enter into the thoughts of the Seers.”[19]An ignorant and inert people will always follow a charlatan, because they like to do things which are mysterious and involve no trouble on their part.

[19]The reason “Why the Prophet should be lonely” is perfectly elaborated in a chapter under that title inLogic Taught by Love, from which I have quoted.

The Seer among doctors is boycotted by his fellow medicosafterhe and his co-workers have tested their experiments for themselves, weeded out what is false from what is true, and proved their methods to be right. Not only that, but too often it turns out that it is proper food selection, cleanliness, personal effort and restraint advocated by doctors as substitutes for serumsand drugs, which excites the opprobrium of medical coteries. Whereas, the misguided Serum Specialist, who ought to be saved from himself, and from whom the public ought to be protected, is given full medical honours—and facilities to become that most dangerous type of charlatan, the licensed one.

There are doubtless many abstract questions of health and disease which orthodox and unorthodox doctors alike are unable satisfactorily to settle. But if that be admitted, then it is certainly not in the public interest that serum treatments should be accepted as almost the last words in medical science. More anti-social still is it to attempt to justify the compulsory orders of Parliament that expensive sanatoria shall be built to cope with disease that might be more economically and more satisfactorily treated.

Is there not too little consideration given to theoretical issues underlying practical experience of disease? Is there not too great an anxiety to force remedies at the public expense before all the bearings of the different questions and their phases have been considered? All new methods savour too much of compulsion. They all require the provision of large armies of officials to carry them out. It is interesting to note that the successors of the men who told us how grievously the Church has failed because she is established, should be so anxious to more firmly establish the medical priesthood.

Modern statecraft calls out to us: ‘we will appoint officials to inquire into and decide upon what is to be done, but we will make no inquiries into the real nature of this disease and that: we will find out remedies which, in the form of serums to be injected into the blood, shall counteract the effects of disease: we will also appoint, at your expense, doctors to perform these operations: we will force the man whose family may have the misfortune to contract a disease, which the doctors have not told him how to prevent, to submit them to such treatment.’ But nothing is said about the desirability of exercising government over oneself, one'sbody and one's mind! And nothing issaideither, but it is suggested, that, if one accepts meekly coercive treatment by official doctors, one may probably be able to ignore the laws of life and health without having to pay the penalty.

No sane and properly instructed citizens would be satisfied to have State officials compel them to do what they ought to do for themselves. It is because of this and because the suggestions and compulsions of modern medicine are in keeping with the prevailing philosophy that accumulates knowledge without wisdom, that we need such counteracting influences as are afforded by journals likeThe Healthy Life.

Layman.

“I charge that whereas the first duty of a physician is to instruct the people in the laws of health and thus prevent disease, the tendency has ever been towards a conspiracy of mystery, humbug, and silence.”

“I charge that the general tendency of the profession has been to depreciate the importance of personal and municipal cleanliness, and to inculcate a reliance on drug medicines, vaccination, and other unscientific expedients.”

Alexander Ross, M.D., F.R.S.

To Our Readers.Readers who appreciate the independence and all-round advocacy ofThe Healthy Lifecan materially assist the extension of its circulation by tactfully urging their local newsagent to have the magazine regularly displayed for sale. An attractive monthly poster can always be had free from the Publishers, 3 Tudor Street, London, E.C.

Readers who appreciate the independence and all-round advocacy ofThe Healthy Lifecan materially assist the extension of its circulation by tactfully urging their local newsagent to have the magazine regularly displayed for sale. An attractive monthly poster can always be had free from the Publishers, 3 Tudor Street, London, E.C.

Under the sensational heading,Doomed to Carry Germs: Woman Typhoid Victim for Life, the following account appeared recently inNews of the World:—

Almost unique in medical history is the case of a woman typhoid carrier, who, it is said, will carry the bacilli with her through life. The case is described by Dr Barbara Cunningham in a report of the Manchester Medical Officer of Health. In order that the woman shall cease to be a source of danger—as she has been keeping lodgers—the health authorities are giving her 7s. a week, and that, with her old-age pension of 5s., will be sufficient to keep her without lodgers. The case has aroused much interest in Manchester. The principal restrictions on the part of the Health Department are that she must not cook or wash for anyone. Anyone can, however, cook for her. In discussing the case Dr Martin, who for 25 years was Medical Officer of Health for Gorton, remarked that in some cases of typhoid carriers the infection ceased to exist for a time, but it was unusual for it to exist year after year. “The reason for the woman referred to carrying the typhoid bacilli with her through life is,” he added, “because of a peculiarity of constitution. There is no remedy to be found for it at present, and no means of freeing her from the germs, hence the reward offered by an American to anyone who can find a remedy for such cases. The germs themselves are proof against remedies, and they go on multiplying. The woman is incurable, and you cannot kill the germs without killing the woman. It is the first case, to my knowledge, where the health authorities have taken such measures to prevent a spread of the infection.” The history of the affair is interesting. The woman's case had been reported to the authorities, and when her lodger became ill with typhus she was suspected, and was found to be giving off large numbers of typhoid bacilli. She was placed in Monsall Hospital for two months, during which time she was treated with gradually increasing doses of vaccine prepared in the Public Health Laboratory, York Place. When discharged, three separate tests were made as regards the typhoid bacilli. For one week after her discharge the organisms did not reappear, but during the second week a few colonies were grown, and in the third and fourth weeks the number increased. Shortly after that her lodger developed enteric fever.

This case is instructive, because it shows very clearlythe utter futility of the modern method of treating infectious diseases by means of drugs and vaccines.

It is well known that the infecting agent or microbe found in cases of typhoid fever originates in man himself, that, in fact, it is essentially a man-made disorder. Dr Budd, who was the first to fully investigate this important subject, brought together the most convincing considerations to show this.

We know further that impure water and milk, shellfish and certain foods which are contaminated with sewage are capable of giving rise to epidemics of this complaint.

This was shown in Paris in May last, when a plumber carelessly connected a pipe along which Seine water flowed to a drinking-water pipe. The typhoid germ is always present in Seine water and this mistake cost the lives of twenty people.

Dr Freeman, an American doctor, who has studied the habits of the typhoid germ, tells us that it does not survive so well outside the human body as does the tubercle microbe, but it can, nevertheless, do an incalculable amount of mischief when the local authorities are careless about the matter of sewage disposal.

A great deal has been heard of late of what are termed Typhoid Carriers. There are apparently numbers of people who, while they appear to be in good health, yet harbour these germs and are thus liable to infect others with them; and the problem is what to do with them.

The orthodox authorities, as happened in the case cited above, would like to isolate them indefinitely and even to pension them off for life, but this seems to be a hopeless way out of the difficulty.

The remedy seems obvious to me. Let us stop the drugs and serums and use common-sense hygiene of the body instead. This must be patent to anyone who has any knowledge of the subject; but why the authorities do not put it into execution I am at a loss to imagine. Surely the right thing to do is to clear away the impurities in which the typhoid germs live.Bydepriving them of the material or soil in which they grow and propagate we should practically starve them out of existence.

Moreover, this seems to me to be a perfectly easy procedure. If this woman were handed over to me for treatment I should at once place her on an antiseptic diet consisting solely of salads, grated roots, fresh fruits, sour buttermilk and dextrinised cereals. The effect of this diet would be to cleanse and sterilise the entire digestive tract, and thus break up and clear away the soil in which the microbes are living. Supplementary to this cleansing diet other means could be adopted to effect a general purification of the whole body. Thus vapour baths could be used to promote skin action; beverages could be taken morning and night, consisting of distilled water with lemon juice or suitable herbal “teas” to promote free action of the kidneys; and colon-flushing treatment could be used to fully cleanse the colon, or large bowel.

By combined treatment of this rational order, I am convinced that this woman would speedily become freed from her unpleasant visitors and would be enabled to return to her relations without, as it were, a stain upon her character.

H. Valentine Knaggs.

The Editors ofThe Healthy Lifeare convinced that there are many men and women who can write well and interestingly on subjects relating to health in its many aspects; and they wish to unearth this talent.

They therefore offer aFirst PrizeofTwo Guineas, aSecond PrizeofOne Guinea, and aThird PrizeofBooks(published atThe Healthy LifeOffice) to the value of Half-a-Guinea, for the best ESSAY, SKETCH or SHORT STORY appropriate to the pages ofThe Healthy Life.

Please read the following Conditions carefully:—

CONDITIONS.

Each Essay, Short Story, or Sketch must containnot less than 1000 words, andnot more than 2000 words.Each Essay, Short Story, or Sketch must be written (or typed) on one side of the paper only, leaving at least one inch of margin on which each 100 words must be indicated in figures.Each attempt must be accompanied by the front cover (or top part of cover showing date) of either the December or January numbers. (Where more than one MS. is sent in by one contributor, extra covers in proportion must be enclosed.)The full name and address of the competitor must be written at the foot of last page, in addition to the competitor'snom de plume(if any).All Essays, Short Stories or Sketches must be sent in not later than the 31st of January 1914, addressedBuried Talent,The Healthy Life, 3 Tudor Street, London, E.C.No one who is at present, or has ever been, a regular contributor toThe Healthy Lifeis eligible for a prize.The Editors reserve the right to publish any contribution sent in under this Competition.The decision of the Editors will be final and no correspondence can be entered into with unsuccessful competitors.

Competitors are asked to note that legibility of handwriting will carry weight as well as intrinsic merit.

Many cases of ill-health demand that the meals should be as dry as possible. Having granted this, it will be admitted that there is quite a proper place for soups in ordinary everyday food reform catering.

The chief objection to ordinary soups is that they are made on a basis of meat stock and flavoured with one of various “meat extract” preparations. Meat stock, meat gravy and meat extract all alike represent the least desirable elements in flesh food, namely, the acids and tissue-wastes of the living animal at the moment of its death—acids and tissue-debris which were on their way to normal excretion via the lymph channels, veins, etc.

It is therefore only common-sense to avoid suchsoup-bases, especially as the most excellent soups can be made without recourse to any animal product.

The juices of vegetables, being rich in alkaline “salts” and other organic elements, are the natural cleansing agents in a rational diet. Hence to obtain a maximumremedialeffect, vegetable soup should be taken in the form of a clear, unflavoured broth, quite apart from the solid meals, and preferably on retiring. But for the dinner or supper soup, some richness of flavour and creaminess of substance are pleasing and legitimate.

The following recipes explain, first, how to prepare vegetable “stock,” and then how to make rich, creamy nourishing soups, on the basis of that “stock.” Each recipe will, of course, suggest variations.

Put any fresh vegetables in season in a large stewpot—being careful not to includeovermuchcabbage or other coarse green leaves, as these give a rather strong flavour—with a quart or more of water, cover, and simmer gently for at least two hours. The outer leaves discarded when preparing vegetables for the table, the stalks and stems, and the peelings of apples, potatoes, etc., should all be used for stock, care being taken, of course, to cleanse them well first, cutting out any insect-eaten or decayed parts.

Mix two tablespoonfuls of fine wholemeal or good “standard” flour into a smooth paste with a little water, add this to the hot stock (as above), and stir till soup is thickened. Just before serving stir in a tablespoonful of Almond Cream (either “P.R.” or Mapleton's).

The addition of the almond cream gives the above a nutritive value, apart from the tonic and cleansing elements in the stock.

Pare, scrub and cut into small pieces, 1 lb. of artichokes and put immediately into a pan with a pint ofwater or milk and water. Boil till soft, then rub through a wire sieve, using a wooden spoon. Put back in pan, add a little more water, a little chopped parsley, and a small piece of butter (or nut butter). Bring to the boil, stirring well; stir in a tablespoonful of Pinekernel Cream (“P.R.” or Mapleton's), and serve at once.

Put four well-cleansed medium-sized leeks (cut up small), the outer parts of a head of celery (chopped), a quart of water and 2 oz. unpolished Japan rice, into a pan and simmer for two hours. Rub through wire sieve, return to pan, bring to the boil, and serve.

This soup is not so much nutritive as cleansing and antiseptic.

Many and varied are the creeds of Health Reformers, but all may be included within two main camps. And the opposing battle-cries are InstinctversusIntellect, TasteversusTheory,à priori versus à posteriori, MotivesversusPurposes. Some overlapping and confusion of creed may be found in both camps, but in the main one is filled with lovers of Nature, the other with devotees of Science.

“We believe in simplicity,” cries the Nature-lover from the meadow where he is taking a sun-bath; “you are so complex, so artificial.”

“We believe in being ‘sensible,’” retorts the devotee of Science from the cabinet where he is taking an electric light bath, “you are so extreme.”

“Not extreme—consistent. Your treatment varies every month as the decrees of ‘Science’ change.”

“But your treatment varies every minute as the wind and clouds change. I can keep mine constant with mathematical accuracy, or vary the light to a nicety by pressing a button.”

And so also is it with regard to diet. The person who talks learnedly about germs and calories (though he never saw a germ or measured a calorie in his life) will be found in the same camp with the electric light advocate, while this other who cultivates a taste in harmony with Nature by consuming what he likes best of her unaltered products, he is found arm in arm with the sun-bather. But Science will by no means allow him to eat his uncooked food in peace. “If we all adoptthatdiet,” her pseudo-disciples cry, “what is to become of the potatoes?”

Now, with regard to uncooked foods, it would seem that as little fault can be found with ripe fruit in its natural state as with any article of diet. Yet even here “Science” holds up a warning hand and is succeeding in scaring people away from one of the most harmless, most wholesome and most neglected of foods.

Leaving generalities, let us come to a specific case, an actual difficulty propounded to me by a sufferer, one who had spent her substance till she could spend no more in having various parts of herself examined and in learned prescriptions and processes of cure, but who found herself as far from health as ever. Obsessed by certain theories of “Science,” this lady had acquired a dread of sugarin every form. Hence her query addressed to me: “In your book,No Rheumatism, you say that sugar is to be avoided. Why, then, do you recommend fruit, which is mostly sugar?”

I replied as follows: “The reason I recommend ripe uncooked fruit—in spite of its containing a certain quantity of sugar—is that it contains also purifying salts, and that for most people it is the pleasantest form in which these salts can be taken. Moreover, fruit sugar appears to be more wholesome than that formed from starch. When you say that ‘fruit is mostly sugar,’ are you not leaving the water of the fruit out of account? As the water often amounts to 90 per cent. this makes all the difference. Taking the fruits generally grown in this country the average proportion of sugar is seven per cent.

[This statement is based on the following figures given in Goodale's Physiological Botany:—

Grapes are stated to contain 24.36 per cent, but often contain much less and sometimes even more.]

“Now a person eating fruitad lib., but allowed other foods, will hardly ever eat more than a pound or two a day (generally less). But suppose him to eat two pounds. Seven per cent. of this is 2¼ oz. If he eats only 1 lb. he takes 1⅛ oz. sugar. Now compare this with the amount he gets from starchy foods, say, bread, which contains fifty per cent. of starch and sugar. As the starch, if it is to be assimilated, must be (and as a general rule practically all is) converted into sugar duringdigestion, we get from 1 lb. of bread 8 oz. of sugar (to be exact, nearly 9 oz., because starch forms rather more than its own weight of sugar). But the weight of bread allowed for daily food, if no other starchy or sugary food is taken, is—according to orthodox physiology books—1 lb., 11 oz., yielding over 14 oz. of sugar. Now I reduce the starchy food to 8 oz. or less (No Rheumatism, p. 34), yielding at most about 4½ oz. of sugar. You see, then, that the patient can now afford to take even 2 lbs. of fruit, because this will bring his total of sugar up to only 6¾ oz., as against 14 oz. allowed by the orthodox. And if, as I recommend (p. 33), fruits containing but little sugar (especially cucumbers) are taken, his total sugar under my regime will be even less than 6¾ oz.

“As so many people fail to distinguish between fruit sugar occurring naturally in fruit and ordinary separated and concentrated cane sugar, or even beet sugar separated by various chemicals—‘shop sugar,’ in fact—I translate for you a passage from Dr Carton'sTrois Aliments Meurtriers[20]:—

[20]Some Popular Foodstuffs Exposed, translated by D.M. Richardson. 1s. net. Daniel.

“‘Let us proceed now to the study of the third deadly food. The sugar contained in vegetables and raw fruits is a living aliment, physiologically combined with the protoplasm of the vegetable cells, associated with ferments and with vitalised chemical salts. The absorption of this natural sugar is effected by a harmonious contact, by an exchange of energy between the living vegetable cells and our living digestive cells.

“‘The sugar of commerce, on the contrary, is a dead food which has lost all association with vegetable protoplasm, with vitalised mineral salts and with oxidising ferments which would render it physiological. It is nothing more than a drug, a dangerous chemical, because Nature has nowhere presented it to us in this form.... Its absorption involves an anti-physiological irritation which over-excites the viscera, and when repeated ends by profoundly altering them.’”

“This is all very well,” cries Pseudo-Science, “but people may eat too much fruit.”

“Certainly, but then I warn them at once,” quoth Taste.

“But they have an idea it is good for them, and they disregard your warnings.”

“If they ‘have an idea’ which runs counter to my warnings and my penalties, to say nothing of my promises and my rewards, then they can only get that idea from you, Mr Pseudo-Science, with your theories and your figures and your long words.”

“Why not from your relative, Unnatural Taste? Anyhow, it is my duty to warn them.”

“If they don't heed my warning, they certainly won't heed yours,” says Taste.

“But I can paint such a picture of the trouble they store up for the future if they persist in excessive fruit eating!”

“Never mind about persisting and storing up for the future. I punish excess in fruit eating as in everything else by prompt discomfort and pain.”

“But what do you know about oxalic acid?”

“Enough to avoid it. Like every other poison it is repugnant to me.”

“Yet fruit which is so nice in the mouth may ferment in the intestines and form that very poison. Then what are you going to do about it?”

“Take care that not too much fruit is eaten another time.”

“But in the meantime the oxalic acid already formed must be neutralised at once.”

“No, no! It would be a pity to do that. Oxalic acid is the latest fashion. What would your patients do without it? And what would you do without your patients?”

“It must be neutralised at once. It can only be neutralised at the cost of abstracting lime from the system. Result: oxalate of lime, forming calculus, or ‘stone,’ which you don't want, and tissues depleted of lime which you do want.”

“So you get your patients after all. In fact, having ‘neutralised their oxalic acid’ to escape you, they come back to you with two diseases instead of one. It seems to me you are a very profitable investment, Mr Pseudo-Science.”

“Really, Mr Taste, you would not, I presume, have me suppress the truth simply because it happens to be profitable?”

“But is it the truth? What proof have you?”

“I presume you are ignorant of the fact that animals have died with all the symptoms of oxalic acid poisoning, simply through taking too much sugar.”

“What kind of animals? You chose such as are used to taking shop sugar as part of their ordinary food, of course?”

“Well—no; not in that form. The subjects of the experiment were rabbits.”

“Ah! And from these you draw deductions about man who has been eating artificial sugar for ages. How like a vivisectionist! But what doses of sugar did the rabbits get?”

“About one-fortieth of the body-weight.”

“That would be as if a man of 150 lbs. weight should take 3¾ lbs. sugar at a meal! And since it is excessive fruit you are warning us against, can you tell me how many pounds of fruit—say, apples—one must take in order to get that amount of sugar in a day? No less than sixty pounds. Really your warning seems a little superfluous.”

“It is all very well for you to scoff, Mr Taste, but if it were not for me you would know nothing about the latest diseases. I really believe you would be content to go right through life without knowing that you had a duodenum or an appendix.”

“Quite” assented Taste cheerfully.

Arnold Eiloart, B.Sc.

In November, 1912, we published a letter from a reader containing the excellent suggestion that readers who had experimented to any fair extent with unfired diet should be invited to contribute to a conference on the subject inThe Healthy Life,and that the symposium should be gathered round the following points:—

(1) The effect of the diet in curing chronic disease.

(2) Its effect on children so brought up—e.g.do they get the so-called “inevitable” diseases of chicken-pox, measles, etc., and especially have they good (i.e.perfect) teeth?

(3) The effect of the diet in childbirth.

(4) The cost of maintaining a household in this way, as compared with the cost under ordinary conditions.

(5) Is the diet satisfying, or is there a longing for conventional dietary (often found amongst food reformers)?

(6) Is the diet quite satisfactory in winter?

A number of interesting letters have been published this year, and we shall be glad to receive a large number of personal experiences, but they must be brief, and classified under the above heads as far as possible. The following is a striking piece of personal evidence.—[Eds.]

Buckhurst Hill, Essex,28th April 1913.To the Editors ofThe Healthy Life.Dear Sirs,As a slight contribution to the interesting discussion which is taking place in your magazine, will you allow me to give you a short summary of nearly sixty years experience of theeffects, in my own case, of flesh eating, vegetarianism and the uncooked food diet.This is not a fairy tale, as some may be inclined to think, but a plain unvarnished statement of facts.The flesh-eating period lasted for seventeen years. When three months old I was the unfortunate victim of vaccination poisoning, and for years afterwards was continually in the doctor's hands. The best medical men in this country and America were consulted; for months daily visits were paid to a noted Chicago specialist in the hope that he might be able to effect a cure, but it was a case of “love's labour lost,” and, instead of improving, my condition grew steadily worse.During all these years, drugging was constantly going on, the pills and potions ordered were religiously swallowed, and, strange as it may seem, the ordeal was survived. Flesh meat was eaten daily, and, of all the members of the medical profession consulted, not one of them ever hinted that a change of diet might be beneficial.When 17 years of age my attention was drawn to an article inThe Phonetic Journalon the advantages of a non-flesh diet. By this time, being thoroughly tired of taking endless quantities of useless, poisonous and expensive drugs, I decided, there and then, to throw “physic to the dogs,” making up my mind that if death did come, and it seemed to be staring me in the face, I would, at any rate, die a vegetarian.Within six months the most dangerous symptom had completely disappeared and has never recurred, but, although greatly benefitting by the new diet, and enjoying on the whole fairly good health, yet there were frequent attacks of rheumatism, lumbago and neuralgia; dyspepsia, with its attendant pain and flatulence, often made life miserable; now and again the liver would rise up in rebellion, bringing in its train vertigo, blurred vision and severe headaches; constipation, that bane of modern life, was a source of endless trouble, in fact, for many years the enema had to be used once or twice a week, and last, but worst of all, came those sharp, shooting, lancinating pains, one of the premonitory symptoms of cancer.Obviously, there was still something radically wrong somewhere, and on retiring from practice, a great deal of time and attention was devoted to the subject, innumerable experiments were made, and, ultimately, results obtained, the value of which cannot be exaggerated.Five years ago the uncooked food diet was commenced, and from the very first week a steady improvement took place. The constipation vanished as if by magic; there has not been the slightest touch of rheumatism or neuralgia for at least three years the liver is now an unknown quantity, the dyspepsia is a thing of the past, and, most important of all, the cancer symptoms are entirely gone, and in their place has come an abounding health, vigour and vitality that is marvellous. The years seem to have “rolled back in their flight”; all the centres of life are rejuvenated; and the hopes, feelings and aspirations of youth sway me now as they did nearly half-a-century ago. Work, mental or physical, is a perfect pleasure, and to feel fatigue is almost unknown.What a glorious gift life really is has never been realised till now, and the wealth of the Indies would not induce me to go back to the flesh-pots, or live on cooked foods again. This diet gives two important advantages: firstly, the elimination of all excess of starchy matter prevents the formation of needless fat, and, secondly, the entire absence of artificially sweetened food removes one of the main causes of over-eating.Will people ever learn that fat, instead of being a sign of health, is the very reverse, that every ounce of superfluous adipose tissue means more work for the heart, diminished vitality, lessened energy, and, when excessive, is not only a distinct menace to longevity, but to life itself?I never take more than two meals a day and very often only one, which consists of raw vegetables, nuts, olive oil and unfired bread; the second meal, when required, is a simple fruit salad.When a vegetarian the writer lived for years on a shilling a week; it costs rather more now, the oil, nuts, fruit and bread being more expensive than beans, rice, meal, etc., but the difference is so trifling that it is not worth talking about.Whilst “Fletcherising,” deep breathing, distilled water, olive oil, fasting, saltless food, the open-air life, regular exercise, etc., were valuable allies, it was not until the powerful aid of uncooked food was invoked that the real benefits began to appear and life became a real joy. Yours, etc.,John Reid, M.B., C.M.

Buckhurst Hill, Essex,28th April 1913.

To the Editors ofThe Healthy Life.

Dear Sirs,

As a slight contribution to the interesting discussion which is taking place in your magazine, will you allow me to give you a short summary of nearly sixty years experience of theeffects, in my own case, of flesh eating, vegetarianism and the uncooked food diet.

This is not a fairy tale, as some may be inclined to think, but a plain unvarnished statement of facts.

The flesh-eating period lasted for seventeen years. When three months old I was the unfortunate victim of vaccination poisoning, and for years afterwards was continually in the doctor's hands. The best medical men in this country and America were consulted; for months daily visits were paid to a noted Chicago specialist in the hope that he might be able to effect a cure, but it was a case of “love's labour lost,” and, instead of improving, my condition grew steadily worse.

During all these years, drugging was constantly going on, the pills and potions ordered were religiously swallowed, and, strange as it may seem, the ordeal was survived. Flesh meat was eaten daily, and, of all the members of the medical profession consulted, not one of them ever hinted that a change of diet might be beneficial.

When 17 years of age my attention was drawn to an article inThe Phonetic Journalon the advantages of a non-flesh diet. By this time, being thoroughly tired of taking endless quantities of useless, poisonous and expensive drugs, I decided, there and then, to throw “physic to the dogs,” making up my mind that if death did come, and it seemed to be staring me in the face, I would, at any rate, die a vegetarian.

Within six months the most dangerous symptom had completely disappeared and has never recurred, but, although greatly benefitting by the new diet, and enjoying on the whole fairly good health, yet there were frequent attacks of rheumatism, lumbago and neuralgia; dyspepsia, with its attendant pain and flatulence, often made life miserable; now and again the liver would rise up in rebellion, bringing in its train vertigo, blurred vision and severe headaches; constipation, that bane of modern life, was a source of endless trouble, in fact, for many years the enema had to be used once or twice a week, and last, but worst of all, came those sharp, shooting, lancinating pains, one of the premonitory symptoms of cancer.

Obviously, there was still something radically wrong somewhere, and on retiring from practice, a great deal of time and attention was devoted to the subject, innumerable experiments were made, and, ultimately, results obtained, the value of which cannot be exaggerated.

Five years ago the uncooked food diet was commenced, and from the very first week a steady improvement took place. The constipation vanished as if by magic; there has not been the slightest touch of rheumatism or neuralgia for at least three years the liver is now an unknown quantity, the dyspepsia is a thing of the past, and, most important of all, the cancer symptoms are entirely gone, and in their place has come an abounding health, vigour and vitality that is marvellous. The years seem to have “rolled back in their flight”; all the centres of life are rejuvenated; and the hopes, feelings and aspirations of youth sway me now as they did nearly half-a-century ago. Work, mental or physical, is a perfect pleasure, and to feel fatigue is almost unknown.

What a glorious gift life really is has never been realised till now, and the wealth of the Indies would not induce me to go back to the flesh-pots, or live on cooked foods again. This diet gives two important advantages: firstly, the elimination of all excess of starchy matter prevents the formation of needless fat, and, secondly, the entire absence of artificially sweetened food removes one of the main causes of over-eating.

Will people ever learn that fat, instead of being a sign of health, is the very reverse, that every ounce of superfluous adipose tissue means more work for the heart, diminished vitality, lessened energy, and, when excessive, is not only a distinct menace to longevity, but to life itself?

I never take more than two meals a day and very often only one, which consists of raw vegetables, nuts, olive oil and unfired bread; the second meal, when required, is a simple fruit salad.

When a vegetarian the writer lived for years on a shilling a week; it costs rather more now, the oil, nuts, fruit and bread being more expensive than beans, rice, meal, etc., but the difference is so trifling that it is not worth talking about.

Whilst “Fletcherising,” deep breathing, distilled water, olive oil, fasting, saltless food, the open-air life, regular exercise, etc., were valuable allies, it was not until the powerful aid of uncooked food was invoked that the real benefits began to appear and life became a real joy. Yours, etc.,

John Reid, M.B., C.M.

Under this heading our contributor, Dr Valentine Knaggs, deals briefly month by month, and according as space permits, with questions of general interest to health seekers and others.

In all Queries relating to health difficulties it is essential that full details of the correspondent's customary diet should be clearly given.

Correspondents are earnestly requested to write onone side only of the paper, giving full name and address, not for publication, but as a guarantee of good faith. When an answer is required by post a stamped addressed envelope must be enclosed.—[Eds.]

Every inquiry must be accompanied by the front cover (or upper part of same showing date) of a recent numberofThe Healthy Life.

Mrs M. McC. writes:—In your book,Onions and Cress,[21]on p. 49, it is stated that the juice of onions mixed with honey will change the colour of hair from grey to black. Will you be kind enough to tell me in what proportion these should be mixed, as, of course, if not in a proper mixture, the hair would become so clogged. And will you also kindly tell me how one is to extract the juice from the onions, whether they are to be boiled or squeezed when raw.

With regard to the use of a mixture of onion juice and honey as a hair restorative the reader of my little book must remember that it is largely a compilation of quotations from old herbal books, and it gives the history, use and folklore of these interesting edibles. I am not responsible for this recipe and cannot therefore vouch for its utility. We know, however, that onions contain a wonderful sulphured oil and that sulphur in one form or another is an important ingredient of most hair preparations which restore colour. The raw juice evidently should be used, and this can be extracted either by pounding and grating and then extracting the juice under pressure, or it can be readily obtained in any quantity by putting onions through the Enterprise Juice Press. The amount of honey, I think, to be added to this juice should be very small, otherwise, as our correspondent surmises, the preparation would be very sticky and objectionable. Would any reader care to try this and report upon it?

[21]Onions and Cress, 6d. net (postage 1d).

Mrs M.G. writes:—My husband is a sufferer from sciatica; has had it for some years, on and off, but just lately he seems is to get it constantly—sometimes a little, sometimes a lot. He has been taking some salicylate of soda, and I have tried to persuade him to give it up. His age is 42. For his meals he takes, on rising, an apple or a cup of apple tea; an hour afterwards his breakfast, which consists of two tablespoonfuls of a proteid food mixed with distilled water, and a hard biscuit, two slices of whole meal brown bread, nut butter, and watercress or lettuce. During the morning he drinks barley water. For dinner, a salad and a few ground nuts and hard biscuits and an apple; sometimes home-made nut meat and spinach, hard biscuits and dried or freshfruit. For tea, a salad or lettuce, tomatoes, onions and cress, and Shredded Wheat and wholemeal bread. Last thing at night, a few steamed onions and distilled water. His bowels are in good condition, very regular, but he has this constant gnawing pain. If you can help me in any way as to a change in his diet, it will be a relief to me. I do not mind the trouble of preparing things for him. It is about two months ago that he has taken to drinking distilled water, which I make myself. His occupation is very sedentary, with long hours, sometimes from six in the morning till nine at night. He has a bicycle, and gets as much exercise as possible.

From the description given one would assume that the sedentary occupation and long hours of work have caused this correspondent to fall into bad postural habits of sitting and standing, coupled with excessive depletion of his nervous energy. The diet given is on good lines and, with the addition of home-made curd cheese and eggs as proteid, might certainly be continued as it stands, especially as the bowel action is regular. What the correspondent does need is less hours of work; more physical exercises of a brisk back-stretching nature, and certain spinal stretching manipulations of an Osteopathic nature. Full deep breathing in fresh air will also be beneficial. The lower part of the spine, from which the sciatic nerves originate, needs the most attention.

Mr E.H. writes:—Will Dr Knaggs very kindly say whether Refined Paraffin, now being given so generally for the relief of constipation, may be regarded as a harmless method of overcoming this trouble or whether its use might lead to harmful results. I am told that this preparation of oil is not assimilated, and is therefore harmless, but I should much appreciate Dr Knaggs' opinion on this matter.

The use of refined paraffin as a remedy for constipation is just now all the rage with the orthodox medical profession. There is nothing really to be said against its right use, provided it is made to serve as one of the means to an end. It has been proved that this paraffin, which is quite tasteless, odourless and easy to swallow, is not absorbed by the system but passes unchanged and unaltered through it. It acts therefore as a meremechanical lubricant. The one thing to remember is that its use should be combined with a curative diet, so that it need not be taken indefinitely.

Mr L.S. writes:—I have readThe Healthy Lifefrom the appearance of the first number, and I have studied the Answers to Correspondents, but have not observed a case identical with my own, hence my reason for troubling you.(1) The back part of mouth next throat has a curious glazed appearance—no cough or expectoration. I am inclined to think it extends to and includes the stomach. I have always a good appetite, but am not well nourished; much under weight. Age 44 years; school officer; cycle 25 miles a week.Eat meat sparingly, not a pound a week. Live principally upon eggs and bread and butter—(three eggs a day): “Digestive Tea” two and three times a day.2. Is saccharine less harmful than sugar for sweetening?3. As the result of a nervous breakdown I had five years ago I suffer from a dilated heart, consequently—I suppose—I have palpitation occasionally, oftener when in bed. I don't think my heart is really normal since my breakdown five years ago.4. Would bathing myself with cold water over the region of the heart strengthen the muscles? Would you please suggest anything for strengthening heart. Are lemons or eggs injurious to the heart?

(1) The back part of mouth next throat has a curious glazed appearance—no cough or expectoration. I am inclined to think it extends to and includes the stomach. I have always a good appetite, but am not well nourished; much under weight. Age 44 years; school officer; cycle 25 miles a week.

Eat meat sparingly, not a pound a week. Live principally upon eggs and bread and butter—(three eggs a day): “Digestive Tea” two and three times a day.

2. Is saccharine less harmful than sugar for sweetening?

3. As the result of a nervous breakdown I had five years ago I suffer from a dilated heart, consequently—I suppose—I have palpitation occasionally, oftener when in bed. I don't think my heart is really normal since my breakdown five years ago.

4. Would bathing myself with cold water over the region of the heart strengthen the muscles? Would you please suggest anything for strengthening heart. Are lemons or eggs injurious to the heart?

1. The throat symptoms indicate a dry, irritable, heated condition of the mouth and throat which, as the correspondent surmises, equally affects the stomach and the rest of the digestive organs. He should have a breakfast of fresh fruit only, take salads and grated raw roots with his meals and stop tea altogether. He can drink distilled water and vegetable or lemon drinks (unsweetened) instead.

2. Saccharine is a mineral substance, a fossilised product of putrefactive action in the coal age. It is closely analogous to carbolic acid, which equally originates from microbic action. By leaving off sugar and replacing it by saccharine our correspondent gains nothing. He is simply leaping from the frying pan into the fire. It is best for him to cultivate a taste for unsweetened or even acid drinks.

3. A dilated heart is usually an after effect of a dilated stomach, which strains it, just as it does every other organ, whether in the chest or the abdomen.

4. Bathing the chest with cold water is not desirable. What is needed is that the correspondent should drink as little fluid as possible and pay close attention to the condition of his digestive mechanism. If the organs are dilated or misplaced he should wear a belt and take suitable gentle Osteopathic exercises.

A.M.D. writes:—Could you kindly give inThe Healthy Lifemagazine some suggestions as to the best method to follow in a case of stammering (slight) in a boy of ten or eleven years who has been rather left to himself, the hesitancy in speech being regarded as incurable?

This boy should be trained by someone who understands how to cure stammering. The correspondent would do well to consult Miss Behncke of 18 Earl's Court Square, S.W., who makes a speciality of treating such cases.

A.M.D. writes:—Is there any way, independent of diet, of increasing the red corpuscles in the blood? I have tried walking nine miles a day, thus getting up free perspirations. What of this method? I did imagine that this resulted in a better condition of the skin, the latter losing in a measure the white and parched appearance.

A deficiency of red corpuscles in the blood, which shows in anæmia, is usually caused by self-poisoning. When food ferments or putrifies in the colon, owing to faulty diet and other causes, certain toxins are created. These become absorbed into the blood and there destroy the red corpuscles. Walking is a good form of exercise, but it will not suffice alone to remedy this type of anæmia unless the diet and general habits of the patient are so arranged that the unsanitary condition of the colon is also remedied. The correspondent will find, if she studies the replies to others in this magazine, many details as to diet, etc., for rectifying bad conditions in the bowels.

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