The habit of embowering the house with a dense growth of shrubs and trees, even where the soil is naturally dry, defeats the desired end, and provokes disease.  There are many places made so cosy and attractive with these aids that, with persons of culture and taste, the tendency is to run into extremes, and, while they render their homes beautiful to the eye, they are fatal to life.  A few shade-trees and shrubs properly distributed about the ground can be indulged, and in numbers quite adequate to give an air of grace and beauty to the home, while not endangering its inmates.  They should stand at proper distances from the sides and roof, or not to constantly shadow them through the whole summer, but allow, instead, the caressing sunshine to have full, free play over them.  Again, we have often entered dwellings where it seemed to be the study of the good, ambitious housewife to shut out all the light, and shut in—­of course, unconsciously—­all the death which comes of dampness and dark, only so that her carpets are kept bright and shining for some—­gossip’s tongue.

Sunlight has come to be, of late years, one of the great remedies, and sun-baths are now duly administered in establishments erected for that purpose, and there can be no doubt of their efficacy in giving health and strength to all whose habits of life prevent their exercise in the open air.

Next to a proper location, by which health is to be promoted, is

VENTILATION,

and this covers a multitude of minor matters, but we have only room for considering the subject in its broader aspect.

In olden times ample ventilation was secured through the massive open chimneys, which, with their generous hearthstones, was such a distinguishing and healthful feature of the homes of our ancestors.  They were, perhaps, “a blessing in disguise,” but that they were a real blessing there is no doubt.  Then, too, they were the grand altars of the family, around which the sweetest recollections of childhood and youth cluster, as does the ivy to the walls of old-time buildings, making them, though rude and rough, to memory most dear.

In place of these natural escapes for foul, and the admission of fresh air, we have absolutely nothing in the present day to take its place.  On the contrary, air-tight stoves and air-tight furnaces have supplemented the cheerful blaze of the fireplace, and in lieu of fresh air, a great amount of poisonous gases are emitted, which stupefy and promote disease.  Especially is this the case where the fuel used is any of the coals, instead of wood.  The most deleterious of coals is the anthracite.  Its heat is scorching and drying beyond any other, and the gases are more subtle and pernicious, excepting, possibly, charcoal, which, however, is not used as fuel to any extent.