I have drawn my reader’s attention to the facts that the blood of scrofulous persons is deficient in salt, that the amount is variable, and that the deficiency is at once discernible in the objectionable condition of the skin of the face and neck; but here we have people enjoying a fair share of health, who, owing to ignorance or indifference, are reducing themselves to a state bordering on disease, and who would otherwise be total strangers to those ailments which only attack the impure, the luxurious and intemperate. We have seen that salt is necessary in the animal economy, otherwise it would not exist as a constituent of the blood. It is equally necessary for the preservation of health; for in the blood of those people who are suffering from disease, we detect a visible decrease. In some cases of fever the diminution is remarkable; if the febrile symptoms increase in severity, we find that there is a corresponding loss of the chloride of sodium. This simple fact alone shows that it is the imperative duty of those who have at heart the well-being of their fellow-creatures, to impress upon them in emphatic language, that if they wish their blood to be in a pure healthy condition, and to be able to ward off the insidious attacks of disease, they must make it a frequent article of diet. We are all cognisant that disease will be to the end of time one of the scourges of humanity; and at the present day certain maladies are spreading amongst us with the greatest rapidity, all our efforts to eradicate them having been hitherto altogether futile, and the results far from promising. All our medicines, our improved modes of treatment, and our hygienic schemes, ingenious as they undoubtedly are, reflecting the highest honour on their philanthropic originators, have been, and still are to a considerable extent, abortive, and we are still combating with, and succumbing to, this inveterate enemy of mankind. We do not diet ourselves as we should; in this respect we are far behind the veriest savage, cannibal though he be: he in his natural state obeys the laws and dictates of nature, which we in our civilised state decidedly do not, notwithstanding the assertions of the dreamy philosophers of the day. He sleeps when nature prompts him, regardless of the sun’s heat or midnight dews; he eats when he is hungry, and drinks when he is thirsty; he goes through a certain amount of physical fatigue; his clothing is of the simplest kind; his food on the average is the purest; his drink is that natural fluid which we, owing to our high state of civilisation, so pertinaciously and foolishly discard; he roams at pleasure either on the desert or in the forest; and his impulses, though savage, are never at variance with nature; he is, in fact, as real a child of nature as an average civilised European is the slave of a falsified nature.