Cholera was approaching the shores of England. The alarm of the people was intense. The enormous devastations of that pestilence on its first and only previous visit to that country, in 1832, were vividly recalled by The Scourge
of 1849 the elder people. The only known preventive measures were “flight, fasting, and prayer.” As the pestilence was believed to be a “visitation of God” on account of the sins of the people, the clergy petitioned the Prime Minister to proclaim a day of “fasting and prayer,” with many expressions of sorrow at the prevailing national vices which had finally provoked the wrath of the Almighty. The Prime Minister replied in substance as follows:

“Do works meet for repentance. First make your homes and their surroundings clean and wholesome; then you may with propriety ask Almighty God to bless your efforts at protection against the approaching epidemic.”

This response of the highest official of the Kingdom to the usually humble and devout petition of the clergy, when the people were threatened with an epidemic, was received with profound astonishment by the religious classes, with ridicule by the masses of the people, but with commendation by sanitarians. The popular agitation was great. The clergy protested with solemn asseverations their belief that pestilences were always indications that national sins had become intolerable to the Almighty, and only fastings and prayers could appease His wrath.

The people at large gave no heed either to the clergy’s admonition to fast and pray, or to the Prime Minister’s advice to clean their homes and their surroundings; but, with their usual disregard of the domestic diseases with which they were constantly familiar, gave no thought to approaching danger. But the sanitarians very earnestly urged the people of their respective localities to act upon the advice of the Prime Minister, assuring them that cholera was a disease which prevailed more generally and severely in localities and homes where there was the greatest amount of “filth.”

The epidemic of 1849 came and went with its apparent usual great disturbances of the people. “Flight” and “fasting and prayers” had their natural results, the former being effectual when undertaken in time, and the latter without sensible influence over the mortuary records.

Then the net results of this visitation of cholera were officially determined by the Registrar-General, one fact attracted wide attention and created a profound and lasting impression on the minds of the common people. A town in the interior Can Diseases
Be Prevented? of England reported no case of cholera, though the epidemic had prevailed with great virulence in the communities surrounding it.

On inquiry as to the cause of this remarkable feature of a pestilence that hitherto had shown no respect for persons or localities, it was learned that certain citizens of this town were deeply impressed with the reasonableness of the Prime Minister’s suggestions, and had organized and taken action accordingly. Volunteer committees composed of the leading men and women were selected. One was to secure thorough cleaning of the streets and public places; another was to cause an inspection of every residence and its surroundings and secure complete cleanliness; a third was to obtain reports of all cases of sickness and require immediate isolation and treatment when there was the slightest symptom of cholera.

This town had its “fastings and prayers,” but not until its citizens had done works meet for repentance; and then it asked the divine blessing on its efforts to protect itself—and its prayers were abundantly answered.

But there was another phase of this place’s experience not less impressive than its escape from cholera. There was a great diminution of such diseases as diphtheria, typhoid, erysipelas, scarlet fever, measles, and other low forms of sickness, so fatal in the homes of the poor, during the period that the citizens exercised so much care in securing cleanliness.

“A word fitly spoken is like apples of gold in pictures of silver.” A word fitly spoken broke the spell of centuries, and completely revolutionized human history. That word was spoken, not at the suggestion of science, nor by a The Word Fitly
Spoken scientist, but, at the dictation of common sense, by a layman who happened to be in authority. It was a plain, simple word, which was understood by the people and which appealed to their common sense.

A new era now dawned upon the domestic life of the English people. Every household learned that cleanliness had not only saved a town from a visitation of cholera, but had reduced the contagious and infectious diseases always present in their homes. The Health Officer of England gave tremendous force to the revelation that had been made by officially characterizing and classifying cholera and the whole brood of domestic scourges as “filth diseases.” This was a most happy term, because it suggested not only the source of these diseases, but the simple and effectual remedy that every householder could apply. It became popular in the sanitary literature of the period, and thus permeated all classes, until the most humble family knew its import and complied with its suggestion.

The next visitation of cholera to England was met by the simple remedy of domestic and civic cleanliness; and so manifestly effectual was this measure that the pestilence lost its former terrors. But the great and lasting gain to the people, which grew out of the original proclamation of the Prime Minister that cleanliness of the home and its surroundings was the best preventive of cholera, was the discovery of the fact that nearly all diseases which afflict the individual family, and in a larger sense the whole community, have their origin in or are intensified by decomposing waste matter, the “filth” of the sanitarian, in and around their homes.

So profoundly impressed with this fact were the laboring classes, and so earnest did they become in their zeal for sanitation, that sanitary measures entered into the political campaign. On one occasion a prominent candidate was so disturbed by the numerous inquiries which the audience made as to his views in relation to current questions of local sanitation, that he cried out in despair, “Sanitas sanitatum, et omnia sanitas!”