In an old comedy, which used to delight our forefathers, the hero, Felix O’Callaghan, defines the practice of medicine as “the art of amusing the patient while Nature performs the cure.” In that sentence, the dramatist (unwittingly perhaps) embodied a great truth. Nature, and Nature _only_, can effect a cure. Fresh air, sunlight, pure water, diet and exercise are the great curative agents provided by Nature, and all that the physician can do, no matter to what school he belongs, is to remove as far as possible all existing impediments, and to see that the hygienic conditions are made as favorable as possible. For the rest, Nature, the marvellous builder, will, in her own mysterious way, build up fresh tissue, and, slowly but surely, repair the ravages made by disease. No one would dare to say that the farmer made the corn grow. He does all that the science of agriculture tells him is needful to furnish proper conditions for growth, but there he must stop--the rest must be left to Nature. Then, since disease is a wasting of tissue, and recovery a building up, it is a palpable absurdity to credit a physician with a cure. All that he can do is to co-operate with Nature, by seeing that none of her laws are violated, and insisting that nothing whatever shall obstruct her beneficent functions. Whether for the preservation of health, or the treatment of disease, when present, the chief thing is to cleanse the colon. It is useless to attempt to get rid of the effects while the cause is present. If the principal drain in a dwelling becomes choked, what is the consequence? The noxious and pestilent gases generated by the accumulated filth having no outlet, are forced back into the building, poisoning the atmosphere, and breeding contagion among the inhabitants. Deodorizing and disinfecting will simply be a waste of time and material, until the drain is cleared. The colon is the main drain of the human body, and if it be necessary, for sanitary reasons, to keep the house drains clean, how vitally important is it to keep the main outlet of the physical system free from obstructions. Or, to use another homely illustration, when your coal stove has been run continuously for a long time, as a natural result it becomes clogged with cinders and ashes, causing the fire to burn badly. You encourage it with fresh fuel, rake it and shake it but without avail--the accumulations of débris are too great. You remove a portion, but its place is taken by more substance from above. At length you resort to the measure you should have employed at first--you “dump the grate” and start a fresh fire. The moral is obvious: dump the grate of the human system--in other words, empty the colon.