For a short time at the start it is, perhaps, best to confine one’s self to two enemas, especially if fairly successful with the attempt at a thorough cleansing after breakfast and before retiring at night. The sleep will be sounder and the patient will be more apt to rise refreshed with a clean tongue and cheerful spirits. So much will this before-bed enema do for him that he may soon find it unnecessary to take the preliminary injection on rising, inasmuch as fermentation and gas will no longer trouble him. But individual experience and intelligence must dictate the course in this respect. Let the patient study himself and note the demands of his system. It may even be, indeed it is frequently the case, that a patient requires several enemas during the day. When abnormality has set in, it gives rise to all sorts of freak requirements, and the victim must, for a time, accede to its whims. Quite frequently, owing to various causes, the feces will descend into the rectum, which is properly a conduit, not a receptacle. While there it occasions much nervous irritation of the whole system and makes its victim desperate. It is wise, under such a condition, to take slight injections for relief. Never allow any foulness to accumulate. Establish the _habit_ of internal cleanliness. The new sense of bodily purity will be so great that it can never be outgrown. Nature easily accommodates herself to habits, whatever they be--normal or abnormal, wholesome or unwholesome, cleanly or uncleanly; and the train of consequences will be accordingly good or evil. My point may be easily illustrated by the habits of “civilized” man in regard to bathing. Many persons never take an external bath, and are not conscious of any bodily discomfort arising from the omission of this presumably necessary practice. As the summer approaches, another batch of “civilizees,” so fortunate as to be within convenient distance of a pond, lake, river, or ocean, begin to feel the real need of a “dip,” and are uncomfortable until they get it. This is surely a sign that the spirit of cleanliness is beginning to stir in the breast of humanity. Then there is another contingent that bathe once a week, and should their regular routine in this respect be interfered with they would at once feel unclean--nay, even dirty, and, sometimes, “nasty.” Others, again, bathe twice or thrice weekly, and this quota of the human race feels very uncomfortable and foul when hindered for a week from following this routine; indeed, such bathers often imagine that a dire illness is impending. Finally, the “salt of the earth” take an external bath once or twice a day, and, should _their_ routine be suspended for twenty-four hours, visions of madness or suicide begin to haunt them until relieved by soap and hot water, or the cold plunge, as their habits require.