Produced by Audrey Longhurst, Karen Dalrymple and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. Valere Aude (DARE TO BE HEALTHY) _or_ THE LIGHT _of_ PHYSICAL REGENERATION A vade mecum on BIOLOGY _and the_ HYGIENIC-DIETETIC METHOD _of_ HEALING By Dr. Louis Dechmann Biologist _and_ Physiological Chemist Second Edition (Compendium) 1919 SEATTLE. WASHINGTON Christmas 1918 WASHINGTON PRINTING COMPANY SEATTLE USA 1919 DEDICATION "Dispel this cloud, the light of Heaven restore; Give me to see, and Ajax asks no more!" (Pope) To you of that great voiceless multitude, "THE PEOPLE"-- You whose bewildered cry is still for light; whose silent tragedy our well beloved Longfellow could so well portray: "O suffering sad humanity! O ye afflicted ones, who lie Steeped to the lips in misery, Longing, and yet afraid to die, Patient, though sorely tried!" To you and your needs this brief epitome of a coming greater work is given as a fitting Christmas offering-- "LET THERE BE LIGHT!" It is the cry which despairing, deluded humanity, in the darkness of its frenzied ignorance, has flung back hopelessly to heaven since first the spirit of an Infinite Intelligence brooded upon the race. It is the appeal of man's immortal unity to the All-Father, from age to age, for knowledge sufficient for its hourly needs, since ever, back in the far dim ages of the earth, primeval man, beetle-browed, furtive and fashioned fearsomely, first felt the faint vibration of a Soul; and, like an awakened giant, that chief of human faculties, a Mind took form which, pressing on along the uncertain way, has scaled the giddy heights of knowledge where genius, enthroned, does battle with an envious world of shams and greed and venal prejudice. Led by the resistless pulse of power it follows still that "banner with a strange device: Excelsior!";--for, ever onward yet it wends its way where'er the devious pathway trends, whose troubled, varied course is time, whose bourne is in eternity. But where seek we, then, the answer to a cry so shrill, that smites the high face of heaven from a world in pain? Shall we seek it where false learning leads us in the quest?--Ah no. It comes, not in the crash of Sinai's thunders with the rockings of a riven sphere, as in the allegoric stories of a puerile past. Softly it falls--yes, almost fearfully--from the fervid lips of some lone world-neglected persecuted man--some patient toil-worn son of science, whom Genius loves to call her own--though, haply, to the schools, to fortune and to fame unknown. One whose transcendent, superconscious mind has dared, Prometheus-like, to snatch from heaven the fire of the immortal gods and offer it in benefits to all mankind.