Part 7

TESTS OF THE BREATH.--1. Breathe into a jar, and on lowering into it a lighted candle, the flame will be instantly extinguished; thus indicating the presence of carbonic-acid gas. 2. Breathe upon a mirror, and a film of moisture will show the vapor. [Footnote: There is a close relation between the functions of the skin, the lungs, and the kidneys--the scavengers of the body. They all carry off water from the blood, and when the function of one of the three is, in this respect, interfered with, the others are called upon to perform its functions. When the function of perspiration is deranged, the lungs and kidneys are required to perform heavier duty, and this may lead to disease (see p. 62).] 3. If breath be confined in a bottle, the animal matter will decompose and give off an offensive odor.

ANALYSIS OF THE EXPIRED AIR shows that it has lost about twenty-five per cent of its oxygen, and gained an equal amount of carbonic-acid gas, besides moisture, and organic impurities. Our breath, then, is air robbed of its vitality, and containing in its place a gas as fatal to life [Footnote: Carbonic-acid gas can not be breathed when undiluted, as the glottis closes and forbids its passage into the lungs. Air containing only three or four per cent acts as a narcotic poison (MILLER), and a much smaller proportion will have an injurious effect. The great danger, however, lies in the organic particles constantly exhaled from the lungs and the skin, which, it is believed, are often direct and active poisons.] as it is to a flame, and effete matter which is disagreeable to the smell, injurious to the health, and which may contain the germs of serious disease.

THE EVIL EFFECT OF REBREATHING the air can not be overestimated. We take back into our bodies that which has just been rejected. The blood thereupon leaves the lungs, bearing, not the invigorating oxygen, but refuse matter to obstruct the whole system. We soon feel the effect. The muscles become inactive. The blood stagnates. The heart acts slowly. The food is undigested. The brain is clogged. The head aches. Instances of fatal results are only too frequent. [Footnote: During the English war in India, in the eighteenth century, one hundred and forty-six prisoners were shut up in a room scarcely large enough to hold them. The air could enter only by two narrow windows. At the end of eight hours, but twenty-three persons remained alive, and these were in a most deplorable condition. This prison is well called "The Black Hole of Calcutta."--Percy relates that after the battle of Austerlitz, three hundred Russian prisoners were confined in a cavern, where two hundred and sixty of them perished in a few hours.--The stupid captain of the ship _Londonderry_, during a storm at sea, shut the hatches. There were only seven cubic feet of space left for each person, and in six hours ninety of the passengers were dead.] The constant breathing of even the slightly impure air of our houses can not but tend to undermine the health. The blood is not purified, and is thus in a condition to receive the seeds of disease at any time. The system uninspired by the energizing oxygen is sensitive to cold. The pale cheek, the lusterless eye, the languid step, speak but too plainly of oxygen starvation. In such a soil, catarrh, scrofula, and kindred diseases run riot. [Footnote: One not very strong, or unable powerfully to resist conditions unfavorable to health, and with a predisposition to lung disease, will be sure, sooner or later, by partial lung starvation and blood poisoning, to develop pulmonary consumption. _The lack of what is so abundant and so cheap--good, pure air--is unquestionably the one great cause of this terrible disease_.--BLACK'S _Ten Laws of Health_.]

CONCERNING THE NEED FOR VENTILATION.--The foul air which passes off from the lungs and through the pores of the skin does not fall to the floor, but diffuses itself through the surrounding atmosphere. A single breath will to a trifling but certain extent taint the air of a whole room. [Footnote: This grows out of a well-known philosophical principle called the Diffusion of Gases, whereby two gases tend to mix in exact proportions, no matter what may be the quantity of each.--STEELE'S _Popular Chemistry,_ p. 86, and _Popular Physics,_ p. 52.] A light will vitiate as much air as a dozen persons. Many breaths and lights therefore rapidly unfit the air for our use.

The perfection of ventilation is reached when the air of a room is as pure as that out of doors. To accomplish this result, it is necessary to allow for each person six hundred cubic feet of space, while ventilation is still going on in the best manner known.

In spite of these well-known facts, scarcely any pains are taken to supply fresh air, while the doors and windows where the life-giving oxygen might creep in are hermetically stopped.

How often is this true of the sick room. Yet here the danger of bad air is intensified. The expired breath of the patient is peculiarly threatening to himself as well as to others. Nature is seeking to throw off the poison of the disease. The scavengers of the body are all at work. The breath and the insensible perspiration are loaded with impurities. [Footnote: The floating dust in the air, revealed to us by the sunbeam shining through a crack in the blinds, shows the abundance of these impurities, and also the presence of germs which, lodging in the lungs, may implant disease, unless thrown off by a vigorous constitution. "On uncovering a scarlet fever patient, a cloud of fine dust is seen to rise from the body--contagious dust, that for days will retain its poisonous properties."--YOUMANS. (See p. 300.)] The odor is oftentimes exceedingly offensive. Sick and well alike need an abundance of fresh air. But, too often, it is the only want not supplied.

Our sitting rooms, heated by furnaces or red-hot stoves, generally have no means of ventilation, or, if provided, they are seldom used. A window is occasionally dropped to give a little relief, as if pure air were a rarity, and must be doled out to the suffering lungs in morsels, instead of full and constant draughts. The inmates are starved by scanty lung food, and stupefied by foul air. The process goes on year by year. The weakened and poisoned body at last succumbs to disease, while we, in our blindness and ignorance, talk of the mysterious Providence which thus untimely cuts down the brightest intellects. The truth is, death is often simply the penalty for violating nature's laws. Bad air begets disease; disease begets death.

In our churches, the foul air left by the congregation on Sunday is shut up during the week, and heated for the next Lord's day, when the people assemble to rebreathe the polluted atmosphere. They are thus forced, with every breath they take, to violate the physical laws of Him whom they meet to worship,--laws written not three thousand years ago upon Mount Sinai on tables of stone, but to-day engraved in the constitution of their own living, breathing bodies. On brains benumbed and starving for oxygen, the purest truth and the highest eloquence fall with little force.

We sleep in a small bedroom from which every breath of fresh air is excluded, because we believe night air to be unhealthy, [Footnote: There is a singular prejudice against the night air. Yet, as Florence Nightingale aptly says, what other air can we breathe at night? We then have the choice between foul air within and pure air without. For, in large cities especially, the night air is far more wholesome than that of the daytime. To secure fresh air at night, we must open the windows of our bedroom.] and so we breathe its dozen hogsheads of air over and over again, and then wonder why we awaken in the morning so dull and unrefreshed! Return to our room after inhaling the fresh, morning air, and the fetid odor we meet on opening the door, is convincing proof how we have poisoned our lungs during the night.

Each room should be supplied with two thousand feet of fresh air per hour for every person it contains. Our ingenuity ought to find some way of doing this advantageously and pleasantly. A moiety of the care we devote to delicate articles of food, drink, and dress would abundantly meet this prime necessity of our bodies.

Open the windows a little at the top and the bottom. Put on plenty of clothing to keep warm by day and by night, and then let the inspiring oxygen come in as freely as God has given it. Pure air is the cheapest necessity and luxury of life. Let it not be the rarest!

SCHOOLROOM VENTILATION.--Who, on going from the open air of a clear, bracing winter's day, into a crowded schoolroom, late in the session, has not noticed the disagreeable odor, and been for a moment nauseated and half stifled by the oppressive atmosphere! It is not strange. See how many causes here combine to pollute the air. If the room is heated by a stove, quantities of carbonic-oxide and carbonic-acid gases, as well as other products of combustion, driven by downward drafts in the flue, escape through seams and cracks and the occasionally opened door of the stove. In the case of a furnace, the same effect is too often experienced, and the odor of coal gas is a common one, especially when the fire is replenished. The insensible perspiration is more active in children than in adults; they, moreover, rush in with their clothing saturated with the perspiration induced by their sports; so that, on the average, each pupil, during school hours, loads the air with about half a pint of aqueous vapor. The children come, oftentimes, from homes that are close, ill- ventilated, and uncleanly; and frequently from sick rooms, bringing in their clothing the germs of disease. (See p. 304.) Some of the pupils may even bear traces of illness, or have unsound organs, and so their breath and exhalations be poisonous.

In addition to all this, the air is filled with dust brought in and kept astir by many busy feet; with ashes floating from the stove or furnace; and especially with chalk dust. The modern method of teaching requires a large amount of blackboard work, and the air of the schoolroom is thus loaded with chalk particles. These collect in the nasal passages, and the upper part of the larynx, and irritate the membrane, perhaps laying the foundation of catarrh.

The usual schoolroom atmosphere bears in the pupils the natural fruit of frequent headaches, inattention, weariness, and stupor; but in the teacher its frightful influence is most apparent. His labor is severe, his worry of mind is constant, and, when he finishes his day's work, he is generally too tired to take proper physical exercise. He consequently labors on with impaired health, or is forced to abandon his profession.

Instead of six hundred feet of space being allowed for each pupil, as perfect ventilation demands--the lowest estimate being two hundred and fifty feet--often not over one hundred feet are afforded. Instead of two thousand cubic feet of fresh air being supplied every hour for each person, and as much foul air removed, which, all physiologists assert, is needed for perfect health, perhaps no means of ventilation at all are provided, and none is secured except what an occasionally opened door, or the benevolent cracks and chinks in the building furnish the suffering lungs. [Footnote: Imagine fifty pupils put into a class room thirty feet long, twenty-five feet wide, and ten feet high. This would generally be considered a very liberal provision. Such a room contains seven thousand five hundred cubic feet of air. But it furnishes only one hundred and fifty feet of space for each pupil. Allowing ten cubic feet of air per pupil each minute, in fifteen minutes after assembling, the entire atmosphere of the room is tainted, and unfit to be rebreathed. The demand of health is that at least one thousand five hundred cubic feet of pure air should be admitted into this room every minute, and as much be removed.]

HOW SHALL WE VENTILATE?--The usual method of ventilation depends upon the fact that hot air is lighter than cold air, and so the cold air tends, by the force of gravity, to fall and compel the warm air to rise. Thus, if we open the door of a heated room, and hold a lighted candle first at the top, and then at the bottom, we can see, by the deflection of the flame, that there is a current of air setting outward at the top, and another setting inward at the bottom of the opening. A handkerchief held loosely, or the smoke of a smoldering match, in front of a fireplace will show a current of air passing up the chimney; this is caused by the difference of temperature between the air in the room and the outside atmosphere. _Upon this difference of temperature, all ordinary ventilation is based_. [Footnote: Public buildings are sometimes ventilated by mechanical means, _i. e._, immense fans which are turned by machinery, and thus set the air in motion. Such methods are, however, expensive, and rarely adopted, except where power is also used for other purposes.] A proper treatment of this subject and its practical applications, would require a book by itself. There is room here for only a few general statements and suggestions.

1. Two openings are always necessary to produce a thorough change of air. (See "Popular Chemistry," p. 70.) Put a lighted candle in a bottle. The flame will soon be extinguished. The oxygen of the little air in the bottle is burned out, and carbonic acid has taken its place. Now place over the mouth of the bottle a lamp chimney, and insert in the chimney a strip of cardboard, thus dividing the passage. On relighting the candle, it will burn freely. The smoke of a bit of smoldering paper will show that two opposite currents of air are established, one setting into the bottle, the other outward.

2. In the winter, when our schoolrooms, churches, public halls, etc., are heated artificially, ventilation is comparatively easy if properly arranged. [Footnote: For the escape of bad air, Dr. Bell suggests that an efficient foul-air shaft may be fitted to the commonest of stoves by simply inclosing the stovepipe in a jacket--that is, in a pipe two or three inches greater in diameter. This should be braced round the stovepipe and left open at the end next the stove. At its entrance into the chimney, a perforated collar should separate it from the stovepipe.] The required difference of temperature is kept up with little difficulty. The fresh air admitted to the room should then be heated [Footnote: Ventilation is change of air, and, unless scientifically arranged, and especially unless the incoming volume of air be warmed in cold weather, such change of atmosphere means cold currents, with their attendant train of catarrhs, bronchitis, neuralgia, rheumatism, and all the evils that spring from these diseases. The raw, damp, frosty air of our ever-changing winter temperature ought not to have uncontrolled and constant ingress to our dwellings. Air out of doors is suited to out of door habits. It is healthy and bracing when the body is coated and wrapped, and prepared to meet it, and when exercise can be taken to keep up the circulation; but to live under cover is to live artificially, and such essential conditions must be observed as suit an abnormal state. All the evils attaching to ventilation, as it is generally effected, spring from the neglect of this consistency.--_Westminster Review_.] either by a furnace, or by passing over a stove, or through a coil of steam pipes. This cold air should always be taken directly from out of doors, and not from a cellar, or from under a piazza, where contamination is possible.

3. In order to remove the impure air, there should be ventilators provided at or near the floor, opening into air shafts, or pipes leading upward through the roof, with proper orifices at the top. These ventilating pipes should be heated artificially so as to produce a draught. They may form one of the flues of a chimney in which there is a constant fire; or be carried upward in a large flue through the center of which runs the smoke pipe of the furnace or stove; [Footnote: This plan has been adopted in the newer school buildings of Elmira, N. Y. The older buildings were provided with ventilating pipes, not heated artificially, and hence of no service. These pipes are rendered effective, however, by conducting them into a small room in the garret, heated by a coal stove. From this room, a large exit pipe leads to the roof, where it terminates in an Emerson's ventilator. So strong a draught is thus established that throughout the building air is taken from the floors, and consequently the cooler portion of the rooms, at a velocity of three to five feet per second or one hundred and eighty to three hundred cubic feet per minute for each square foot of flue opening. In perpendicular flues, heated throughout with a smoke flue from the furnace, ten feet per second is attained.] or the ventilating pipe be itself conveyed through the center of the larger chimney flue. If the register for hot air be on the floor at one side of the room, two or more ventilators may be placed near the floor on the opposite side. The warm air will thus make the complete circuit of the room, and thoroughly warm it before passing out.

If the ventilating shaft be not heated artificially; the ventilator must be placed at the top of the room in order that the hot air may escape through it, thus producing an upward draught. But the objection to this method is that it allows the warmer air to escape, while economy requires that the cooler air at the bottom of the room should be removed and the warm air be made to descend, thus securing uniformity of temperature.

4. In the summer, ventilation may be commonly provided for by opening windows _at the top and the bottom_, on the sheltered side of the building, so as to avoid draughts of air injurious to the occupants. On a dull, still, hot day, when there is little difference of temperature between the inner and the outer air, ventilation can be secured only by having a fire provided in the ventilating shaft; this, by exhausting the air from the room, will cause a fresh current to pour in through the open windows. At recess, all the children should, if the weather permit, be sent out of doors, to allow their clothing to be exposed to the purifying influence of the open air; meantime, the windows should be thrown wide open, that the room may be thoroughly ventilated during their absence. In bad weather, rapid marching or calisthenic exercises will furnish exercise, and also permit the airing of the room.

5. The school and the church are the centers for spreading contagious diseases. The former offers especially dangerous facilities for scattering disease germs. Great pains, therefore, should be taken to exclude pupils attacked by or recovering from diphtheria, scarlet fever, whooping cough, etc., and even those who live in houses where such sickness exists.

6. In our houses [Footnote: The air of our homes is often contaminated by decaying vegetables and other filth in the cellar; by bad air drawn up from the soil into the cellar, by the powerful draughts that our fires create; by defective gas and waste pipes that let the foul air from cesspool or sewer spread through the house; and by piles of refuse, or puddles of slops emptied at the back door. Too often, also, the water in our wells, or in the streams that supply our towns and cities, receives the drainage from outhouses and barnyards, and so introduces into our systems, in the liquid--and thus easily assimilated--form, the most dangerous poisons. The question of sanitary precautions is one that presses upon every observant mind, and demands constant and thoughtful attention. (See p. 305.)] open fireplaces are efficient ventilators, and they should never be closed for any cause. Fresh air admitted by a hot-air register and impure air passed out by a chimney, form a simple and thorough system. Our sleeping apartments demand especial care. As soon as the occupants leave the room, the bedclothes should be removed, and laid on the backs of chairs to air; the bed be shaken up; and the windows thrown open. In the summer, the windows may be closed before the sun is high; the house is then left filled with the cool morning air. In damp and cold weather, a fire should be lighted in sleeping apartments, particularly if used by children [Footnote: In winter, children should always be given a moderately warm, well-ventilated bedroom, with light, fleecy bed coverings. Says a recent English writer: "The loving care which prescribes for children a cold bedroom and a hot, sweltering bed is of the nature that kills. Buried in blankets, their delicate skins become overheated and relaxed, while they are irritated by perspiration; at the same time, the most delicate tissues of all, in the lungs, are dealing with air abnormally frigid. The poor little victims of combined ignorance and kindness thus toss and dream, feverish and troubled, under a mass of bedclothes, while the well-meaning mother, soothed by a bedroom fire, slumbers peacefully through this working out of the sad process of the 'survival of the fittest.'"] or delicate persons, to dry the bedclothing, and also to prevent a chill on the part of the occupants. It is not necessary to go shivering to bed in order to harden one's constitution.

WONDERS OF RESPIRATION.--The perfection of the organs of respiration challenges our admiration. So delicate are they that the least pressure would cause exquisite pain, yet tons of air surge to and fro through their intricate passages, and bathe their innermost cells. We yearly perform at least seven million acts of breathing, inhaling one hundred thousand cubic feet of air, and purifying over three thousand five hundred tons of blood. This gigantic process goes on constantly, never wearies or worries us, and we wonder at it only when science reveals to us its magnitude. In addition, by a wise economy, the process of respiration is made to subserve a second use no less important, and the air we exhale, passing through the organs of voice, is transformed into prayers of faith, songs of hope, and words of social cheer.

FIG. 33.

DISEASES, ETC.--1. _Constriction of the Lungs_ is produced by tight clothing. The ribs are thus forced inward, the size of the chest is diminished, and the amount of inhaled air decreased. Stiff clothing, and especially a garment that will not admit of a full breath without inconvenience, will prevent that free movement of the ribs so essential to health. Any infraction of the laws of respiration, even though it be fashionable, will result in diminished vitality and vigor, and will be fearfully punished by sickness and weakness through the whole life.

2. _Bronchitis_ (bron-ki'-tis) is an inflammation (see Inflammation) of the mucous membrane of the bronchial tubes. It is accompanied by an increased secretion of mucus, and consequent coughing.

3. _Pleurisy_ is an inflammation of the pleura. It is sometimes caused by an injury to the ribs, and results in a secretion of water within the membrane.

4. _Pneumonia_ (_pneuma_, breath) is an inflammation of the lungs, affecting chiefly the air cells.