In fevers the mind as well as the body should be kept easy. Company is seldom agreeable to the sick. Indeed every thing that disturbs the imagination increases the disease; for which reason every person in a fever ought to be kept perfectly quiet, and neither allowed to see nor hear any thing that may in the least affect or discompose his mind. Though the patient in a fever has the greatest inclination for drink, yet he seldom has any appetite for solid food; hence the impropriety of urging him to take victuals is evident. Much solid food in a fever is every way hurtful. It oppresses nature, and, instead of nourishing the patient, serves only to feed the disease. What food the patient takes should be in small quantity, light, and of easy digestion. It ought to be chiefly of the vegetable kind, as panada, roasted apples, gruels, and such like. Poor people, when any of their family are taken ill, run directly to their rich neighbours for cordials, and pour wine, spirits, &c. into the patient, who perhaps never had been accustomed to taste such liquors when in health. If there be any degree of fever, this conduct must increase it, and if there be none, this is the ready way to raise one. Stuffing the patient with sweetmeats and other delicacies is likewise very pernicious. These are always harder to digest than common food, and cannot fail to hurt the stomach. Nothing is more desired by a patient in a fever than fresh air. It not only removes his anxiety, but cools the blood, revives the spirits, and proves every way beneficial. Many patients are in a manner stifled to death in fevers for want of fresh air; yet such is the unaccountable infatuation of most people, that the moment they think a person in a fever, they imagine he should be kept in a close chamber, into which not one particle of fresh air must be admitted. Instead of this, there ought to be a constant stream of fresh air into a sick person’s chamber, so as to keep it moderately cool. Indeed its degree of warmth ought never to be greater than is agreeable to one in perfect health. Nothing spoils the air of a sick person’s chamber, or hurts the patient more, than a number of people breathing in it. When the blood is inflamed, or the humours in a putrid state, air that has been breathed repeatedly will greatly increase the disease. Such air not only loses its spring, and becomes unfit for the purpose of respiration, but acquires a noxious quality, which renders it in a manner poisonous to the sick.