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Fancy, gentlemen of the.—See Blackguard.
Fashion.—The voluntary slavery which leads us to think, act, and dress according to the judgment of fools and the caprice of coxcombs.
Fee, Doctor's.—An attempt to purchase health from one who cannot secure his own. See Fee-simple.
Felicity.—The horizon of the heart, which is always receding as we advance towards it.
Finance.—Legerdemain performed by figures.
Finger—An appendage worn in a ring, and of great use in taking snuff. x
Fishery.—The agriculture of the sea.
Flattery.—Throwing dust in people's eyes, generally for the purpose of picking their pockets.
Fool.—What a fop sees in the looking-glass.
Fortune, a man of.—One who is so unfortunate as to be released from the necessity of employment for the mind and exercise for the body, the two great constituents of happiness and health; who has every thing to fear and nothing to hope; and who consequently pays in anxiety and ennui more than the value of his money.
Forty.—The ne plus ultra of a lady's age.
Foxhunting.—Tossing up for lives with a fox.
Friend, fashionable.—One who will dine with you, game with you, walk or ride out with you, borrow money of you, escort your wife to public places if she be handsome, stand by and see you fairly shot if you happen to be engaged in a duel, and slink away and see you quietly clapped in a prison if you experience a reverse of fortune.
Friend, real.—One who will tell you of your faults and follies in prosperity, and assist you with his hand and heart in adversity. See Black Swan.
Frown.—Writing the confession of a bad passion with an eyebrow.
Funding System.—Saddling posterity, that when the present age is a beggar it may get on horseback and ride to the devil.
Funeral.—Posthumous vanity. The pride, pomp, and circumstance of" ashes to ashes and dust to dust."
Future.—In this world, the unexecuted copy of the past; in the next, what we are to be, determined by what wc have been.
Gain.—Losing life to win money.
Gallipot.—An Apothecary's bank.
Gallows.—The remedy which society has provided for roguery; a cure without being a prevention.
Gaming.—See Beggar and Suicide.
Gastronomy.—The religion of those who make a god of their bellies.
Genealogy, the boast of.—Generally, the poor expedient of those who, having nothing to be proud of in their own persons, are obliged to be proud of others.
Gentleman.—A name often bestowed upon a well-dressed blackguard, and withheld from the right owner, who only wears its qualifications in his heart.
Gewgaw.—See the Pagoda at Brighton.
Gin.—The worm of the still; the spirituous enemy of mankind. Glory.—Sharing with plague, pestilence, and famine the honour of destroying your species; and participating with Alexander's horse the pleasure of transmitting your name to posterity.
Gold.—Dead earth, for which many men sacrifice life and lose heaven.
Goosequill.—A little tube which, in the hands of modern dramatists, seems to have the power of reproducing its parental hisses.
Grandmother's Review.—See the British.
Grape.—Nature's bottle, which the perverse ingenuity of man not ^mfrequently converts into Pandora's box.
Giave.—The gate through which we pass from the visible into the invisible world.
Grub-street garret The poetical Parnassus before authors wrote
books by the acre, bought land by the mile, and resided upon their own estates. H.
THE MAID OF ORKNEY.
"Mi lost, lost love!"—the frantic cry
The rock was near, the storm was high—
Qne flash lit up the reeling bark
A moment's pause, and all was dark—
—'' Look on yon cliff—the awful light
How looks she, stranger, on that sight?"—
"She cannot feel the piercing blast,
That moment was her lover's last,
That wild wind howls his passing dirge."
"But who the reft one, kneeling there
"The fairest of the island fair,
—Morn—evening—came; the sunset smiled,
As though it ne'er had man beguiled,
For his lost child, bower, haunt and home,
While, by the lone deep's golden foam.
Oh, there her young and fond heart broke,
Beside her native islet's wave;
Was on her lover's bright-blue grave.
—Sweet be her rest within the tomb,
And pure the tear that mourns the doom
THE PHYSICIAN.— NO. Xv.
Of the Diseases occasioned by dry Heat.
Agreeably to the intimation given in my last paper, I shall devote the present to the consideration of the dangers incident to health from great heat and drought, and the precautions necessary to be observed in order to avoid them.
Boerhaave caused a sparrow in a cage to be put into a room in which sugar-bakers dry their sugar-loaves, and where the thermometer indicated a temperature of 146 degrees. In one minute the bird began to breathe with difficulty and opened its bill. Its respiration became quicker every moment, and its strength decreased in the same ratio, so that it soon dropped from the perch to the bottom of the cage, where it expired in seven minutes. A dog was doomed to undergo the same experiment with the sparrow. When he had been exposed to the heat for seven minutes, he began to pant, lolled out his tongue, drew breath very quickly, but continued to lie quietly in his kennel. In about an hour his respiration was accompanied with a loud rattling, and he mads all possible efforts to escape from his prison; but it was not long before his strength forsook him, and he began to draw breath so slowly and softly that, at length, it was scarcely perceptible. During the whole time, the animal discharged from the mouth a great quantity of foam, which was of a reddish colour, and had so fetid a smell that the bystanders could not endure it: at the same time it was of so deleterious a nature, though so recently produced in the animal, that a person who approached him for a moment became insensible, and it was necessary to employ spirits of wine and myrrh to bring him again to himself. In this intense heat the dog did not perspire a single drop, and after he was dead, the thermometer being put into his mouth, stood at 110 degrees. A cat, which died in a quarter of an hour in this heat under nearly the same circumstances as the dog, was as wet with perspiration as if she had been dipped in water. These cruel experiments were repeated on various animals by M. Dunze, and the results in every instance were nearly the same.
This rapid putrefaction and speedy death are occasioned by the overheating of the blood; and though our atmosphere never contracts so intolerable a degree of heat, still these experiments enable us to infer from its effects the operation of an inferior degree. In the year 1665 the hot wind, called Samiel, caused the death of 4000 persons within twenty days, at Bassora in Persia; and, according to Thevenot, the heat there is always so intense from July to September, that, in order not to sink under it, people are obliged to keep fresh water constantly in their mouths.
How can it be otherwise than that very great heat in summer should decompose the blood and dispose it to putrefaction, since we see that it has the same effect on all fluid bodies which are compounded of particles of totally different kinds? Heat possesses the property of expanding all bodies, and consequently of separating their constituent parts from one another. Hence it is obvious why the blood, expanded by heat in summer, swells the veins, and is liable to an increased action, which soon degenerates into inflammatory and putrid fevers. But no part of the juices is subject to be so speedily impaired by heat as the fat or oily portion, to which it communicates a corrosive acrimony that attacks the solids themselves. Of such matters the gall is composed, and it is therefore obvious why mtense heat in summer should be so liable to generate putrid gall-fevers, which are a cruel scourge of mankind. The gall, in this acrid and putrescent state, not only communicates its putridity to the nutritious juices secreted from our food, and thus infects all our humours, but also corrodes the coats of the intestines, and operates upon them at first like a violent cathartic, which causes a vomiting of gall, or a painful evacuation downward. Afterwards it eats away the coats of the intestines, so that the putrescent blood pours itself into them, and occasions a discharge of putrid blood and gall, which is called the dysentery, and terminates in mortification of the intestines and death.
Such are the fatal effects to be apprehended from intense heat; and hence summer has in all ages been considered as the parent of pestilential diseases. Historians relate, that in ancient times the heat of the dog-days had rendered the Cycladian Islands barren, and generated in them a destructive pestilence, which Aristaeus was solicited to exert his skill to check. He accordingly went over to the island of Cea, had an altar erected there to Jupiter, to whom and to the Dog-star he offered sacrifice, and instituted a yearly festival in honour of the latter. Since that time arose the winds of the dog-days, which lasted forty days and tempered the heat of summer; and Diodorus Siculus seems to intimate, that after this sacrifice the pestilence ceased during the period that the winds of the dog-days blew. It is easy to imagine that cooling winds would have the effect of checking an evil which originated solely in immoderate heat.
An accidental cause why heat is generally so pernicious, are the colds which are more frequently caught in summer than in the severest winter. In cold weather we muffle ourselves up well and prevent the raw air from coming in contact with our persons. In summer, on the contrary, we are not upon our guard against them; and yet, a cool evening, a sudden shower that wets our thin summer dress, or a draught of any cold drink, may give a fatal chill. Hence arise the most dangerous inflammatory fevers,—especially pleurisy, which sweeps away so many in summer, sore throats, and, as Hippocrates observed, inflammations of the eyes, ear-ache, relaxation of the bowels, cholic, flux, and inflammatory fever, which are easily caused by obstructed transpiration.
When in hot weather the atmosphere is at the same time dry, as is more particularly the case during the prevalence of certain winds, the air extracts much the more humidity from all evaporating bodies, the less it has of its own; just in the same manner as a dry cloth which is in contact with a damp body draws the moisture to itself better than one which is wet. As then the heat affects the blood and renders it more disposed to evaporation, so the' dry air promotes the latter to such a degree that the body becomes dry, and the blood loses the greater portion of its watery particles: of course the thickest and most viscous part only is left in the circulation; and in this state the blood is liable to be obstructed in the minute vessels, and this obstruction occasions inflammatory diseases, which extend the more readily to the whole body, as the overheated blood is apt to contract putridity from the slightest cause.
The Egyptians long since learned from experience the pernicious nature of dry air, by which they frequently lost their sight. How, indeed, can it be otherwise, since the dry air draws from the eyes all that moisture which is indispensably necessary for their use? The same effect is produced on the other internal parts of the body with which the drying air comes in immediate contact. The nose and mouth are dried up by it, and the fibres of the lungs lose their elasticity, and are not so easily expanded by the air. Hence not only is respiration rendered difficult, but the heated blood is unusually expanded in the small vessels which surround the vesicles of the lungs; so that the vacant space by which the fresh air could otherwise enter to cool it, gradually becomes more and more contracted, and almost entirely closed up by the swoollen blood-vessels. Hence many, in very intense and dry heat, are carried off by obstructions of the blood in the lungs; or, if they try to obtain relief from cold drink, by pleurisy and spasms. This is experienced by the inquisitive travellers who penetrate into the Egyptian pyramids, where the air is so hot and dry that they are obliged to strip off almost all their clothes: for when they come out again they are threatened with pleurisy and death, as Norden assures us, though the climate there is very warm, if they do not immediately put on their clothes and take a small quantity of brandy, that they may afterwards quench their thirst with safety. But this is not all. The dry air paralyses also the powers of digestion and those which are subservient to the voluntary movements, because it deprives us not only of a great portion of the nutritious juices, but also of those vital spirits which are necessary for life, motion, and sensation, and without which the strongest man would be weak as a child and inanimate as a plant. Such is the state of debility, languor, and exhaustion that oppresses us in a hot and dry atmosphere. When we find ourselves in this state, it is as dangerous to seek relief from, as to remain in it. In both cases certain precautions are requisite, and these I shall now detail for the benefit of my readers.
In a dry heat the first point to which we should pay attention is, to procure in the place of our habitual abode a cool atmosphere, impregnated with pure aqueous effluvia. I am not here addressing myself to the indigent labourer, or the industrious artisan, who are obliged to sell themselves into servitude, and who neither know nor study their own convenience; I am now writing for such as have no other occupation than to watch over their health, and who can afford to station themselves for a day together at their windows, to observe the vicissitudes of wind and weather. These, if they can forego the use of carpets, may in dry heats have their floors sprinkled with water or vinegar, and various sorts of flowers, shrubs, and trees placed in water in their rooms: for nothing is better adapted to impregnate the dry and hot air with a cooling moisture than plants, because they pour whole streams of water into the atmosphere.
In dry sultry weather the heat ought to be counteracted by means of a cooling diet. To this purpose cucumbers, melons, and juicy fruits are subservient. We ought to give the preference to such alimentary su bstances as tend to contract the juices which are too much expanded