The Friend of Health, part 6: Clean Air

Dr. Samuel Hahnemann had good reason to worry about his patients' quality of air. In those days, rich people could afford to burn many candles at one time, which "spoil the air in a very ugly manner"; people kept chamber pots and night-chairs in their bedrooms; and people on a tight budget kept "a vessel with red hot charcoal" in a closed room, in order to save themselves the expense of a stove. Such air became "a stupefying poison."

Closing a stove's chimney valve before embers had cooled was also dangerous and not infrequently fatal. And stopping up every crack around doors and windows, because the sub-par stove didn't warm the place well enough, also caused unwholesome air. "Deathly pale and spiritless," people who chose to live without fresh air "felt an unknown poison permeating all their blood vessels; they felt their health being gradually undermined, just as the water that ran down from their windows rotted their window frames." These days, the air quality in homes is generally better, but now we worry about mold spores and EMF permeating our living spaces.

Hahnemann didn't particularly like flowers in homes either. The "injurious property of strong-scented flowers (such as lilies, gardenias, roses, jasmine, or lilac) quickly render the air unfit for respiration, particularly for sensitive people." Imagine what he'd say about all the synthetic air, fabric, carpet, and body sprays that people use nowadays! 

Beware of the studio apartment as well. One should avoid living in the room in which one sleeps, and vice versa. "The beds part very gradually with the exhalation they have received from the sleeper during the night and continue to (spoil) all day long the air of the room, even though it had been thoroughly aired in the morning." I'm not sure that applies today, since sheets are probably washed more frequently—not to mention bodies—but, according to Hahnemann, "it should be observed that everything that emits much smell perceptibly vitiates the atmosphere." And he makes a point to say that one should never sleep in a room that contains green fruit.

Hahnemann recommended that workshops in factories should be built "rather too high than too low, rather too airy than too close," and no matter how clean and well-situated, they should be frequently aired. I wonder what he'd say about the sealed and air-conditioned office buildings, whose windows were not made to open.

And he didn't like mature, thickly-leaved trees standing close to windows either; they "prevent daylight and the proper flow of pure air." Trees at a distance of "10 to 12 paces" from a house are highly recommended for shade, and they have "wholesome exhalations" by day. But under no circumstances should anyone live close to a marsh. Living in such close, humid air causes people to be "very liable to swellings and other affectations proceeding from relaxation of the absorbents." (He was referring to the lymphatic system; if too relaxed, it doesn't transport fluids effectively.)

Finally, Hahnemann says to be extra careful in your nursery, where little ones' developing lungs are more sensitive to "toxic tendencies." Keep the air pure and not too moist, the room light and airy, and do not use air fresheners. In Hahnemann's day, juniper berries were often used; today, we have a huge assortment to avoid. He advises giving wholesome food to your children, too, and never overfeed them to keep them quiet. I'm sure Hahnemann would have also disliked using ipads to keep them quiet; he would rather see them outside, playing in the fresh air.