4 o THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY. 



sumption in each State bears an exact proportion to the greater or 

 smaller number of inhabitants who follow in-door occupations, and 

 is highest in the factory districts of New England and the crowded cit- 

 ies of our central States. In Great Britain the rate increases with the 

 latitude, and attains its maximum height in Glasgow, where, as Sir 

 Charles Brodie remarks, windows are opened only one day for every 

 two in Birmingham, and every three and a half in London ; but going 

 farther north the percentage suddenly sinks from twenty-three to 

 eleven, and even to six, if we cross the fifty-seventh parallel, which 

 marks the boundary between the manufacturing counties of Central 

 Scotland and the pastoral regions of the north. 



It is distressingly probable, then, to say the least, that consump- 

 tion, that most fearful scourge of the human race, is not a " mysteri- 

 ous dispensation of Providence," nor a " product of our outrageous 

 climate," but the direct consequence of an outrageous violation of 

 the physical laws of God. Dyspepsia (for which also open-air exer- 

 cise is the only remedy), hypochondria, and not only obstruction but 

 destruction of the sense of smell "knowledge from one entrance 

 quite shut out" will all be pronounced mere trifles by any one who 

 has witnessed the protracted agony of the Luft-Noth, as the Ger- 

 mans call it with horrid directness the frantic, ineffectual strusrele 

 for life-air. Dr. Haller thought that, if God punishes suicide, he would 

 make an exception in favor of consumptives; and there is no doubt 

 that, without the merit of martyrdom, the victim of the cruel dis- 

 ease endures worse than ever Eastern despot or grand-Inquisitor 

 could inflict on the objects of his wrath, because the same amount of 

 torture in any other form would induce speedier death. 



But not only the punishments but also the warnings of Nature 

 are proportioned to the magnitude of each offense against her laws. 

 Injurious substances are repulsive to our taste, incipient exhaustion 

 warns us by a feeling of hunger or weariness, and every strain on our 

 frame that threatens us with rupture or dislocation announces the 

 danger by an unmistakable appeal to our sensorium. How, then, 

 can it be reconciled with the immutable laws of life that the great- 

 est bane of our physical organism overcomes us so unawares that 

 consumption is proverbially referred to as the insidious disease? 

 Should it really be possible that Nature has failed to provide any 

 alarm-signals against a danger like this ? The truth is, that none 

 of her protests are more pathetic or more persistent than those di- 

 rected against the habit that is fraught with such pernicious conse- 

 quences to our respiratory organs. 



It is probable that some of the victims of our numerous dietetic 

 abuses have become initiated to these vices at such an early period 

 of their lives that they have forgotten the time when the taste of tea 

 and alcohol seemed bitter, or the smell of tobacco produced nausea ; 

 but I am certain that no man gifted with a moderate share of memory, 



