But there are many whose occupations oblige them to reside in large towns; they, therefore, should make frequent excursions into the country, or to such situations as will enable them to enjoy, and to breathe air of a little more purity. I say _enjoy_, for who that has been for some time shut up in the town, without breathing the pure air of the country, does not feel his spirits revived the moment he emerges from the azote of the town. Let not therefore, if possible, a single day pass, without enjoying, if but for an hour, the pure air of the country. Doing this, only for a short time _every_ day, would be much more effectual than spending whole days, or even weeks in the country, and then returning into the corrupt atmosphere of the town; for when you have for a long time breathed an impure air, the excitability becomes so morbidly accumulated, from the want of the stimulus of pure air, that the air of the country will have too great an effect upon you; it will frequently, in the course of a day or two, bring on an inflammatory fever, attended with stuffing of the nose, hoarseness, a great degree of heat, and dryness of the skin, with other symptoms of a violent cold. Large towns are the graves of the human species; they would perish in a few generations, if not constantly recruited from the country. The confined, putrid air, which most of their inhabitants breathe, their want of natural exercise, but above all their dissipation, shorten their lives, and ruin their constitutions. Children particularly, require a pure air; every circumstance points out the country as the proper place for their education; the purity of the air, the variety of rustic sports, the plainness of diet, the simplicity and innocence of manners, all concur to recommend it. It is a melancholy fact, that above half the children born in London, die before they are two years old. To shew how indispensable fresh air is to children, I shall mention one example which sets the fact in the clearest light. In the lying-in hospital at Dublin, 2944 infants, out of 7650, died in the year 1782, within the first fortnight after their birth, which is nearly every third child; they almost all died in convulsions; many of them foamed at the mouth, their thumbs were drawn into the palms of their hands, their jaws were locked, the face was swelled and looked blue, as though they were choaked. This last circumstance led the physicians to conclude that the rooms in the hospital were too close, and hence, that the infants had not a sufficient quantity of good air to breathe; they therefore set about ventilating them better, which was done very completely. The consequence has been, that not one child dies now where three used to die.