THE NATIONAL MUSEUM OF HYGIENE.

At the foot of Twenty-third street in the city of Washington, there is an old building amidst a fine grove of trees, overlooking the Potomac River, over the door of which raised letters tell that it was erected in 1842, during the administration of President John Tyler. Upon inquiring within the visitor learned that for many years Uncle Sam here had his wise men, who explored the heavens with great and small instruments, seeking knowledge of the spheres, gauging the flight of time, and otherwise garnering the secrets of earth and skies for the benefit of mankind in general, and especially for those who go down to the sea in great ships. It was the U. S. Naval Observatory-removed a few years ago to Georgetown Heights-but recently transformed into the Museum of Hygiene. The old structure has lost its telescopic communication with the heavens, and now comprehends the paraphernalia requisite to the study of humanity, from incipiency to dust.

The Museum is a veritable curiosity shop; and a more suggestive place could not easily be found. Here one is reminded of comfort and hardship, sickness and health, life and death. The progress of hygienic science on land and water is well illustrated, showing all manner of sanitary apparatus, models of hospitals, hospital ships, and the various ways of disposing of the dead; besides presenting interesting object-lessons on food, drugs and other things for the welfare of the genus homo.

With Dr. S. H. Griffith of the Museum, who kindly pointed out and explained many interesting features of the place, the writer proceeded on a voyage of discovery through its halls and rooms. There is a vast difference between the internal arrangements, as well as the surroundings of the old Museum and the present commodious quarters and display. To the comforts of heat, light and space, all of which were deficient in the old building, but now adequately provided, are added those of convenience of arrangement and general attractiveness. The reception room and office are in keeping with the new order of things, and the library room is all that a student can desire for the material at hand. It is forty feet in diameter, of circular form, and is well lighted. The ceiling is in

charming stamped pattern and the oaken parquetry floor shines like the deck of a man-of-war. It is, altogether, a place well calculated to impress the mind and excite concentrated study of some one or more of the many objects in view, all more or less related to human welfare-whether it be the diseased joint of a drain pipe, the unhealthy appearance of bottled disease germs or a morbid specimen of human anatomy. As aids to such study there are about 1,100 bound volumes and 8,000 pamphlets at hand, and a laboratory apparatus in admirable running order.

Just outside of the library, in the southern exhibit hall, one is reminded that while the Museum concerns hygiene generally, it has much to do with ships. Here quarters and berth arrangements for the sick on shipboard are shown in models representing several methods. They are all commendable, as far as they go; but they do not go far enough. There should be seen in this exhibit the work of some inventive genius in shape of a perfect hospital ship— one equipped with all modern conveniences in addition to the best medical and surgical means-as an example for those who construct, as well as for those who use them. The present sick-bays of war ships are altogether inadequate to the exigencies of battle; and berth-decks or other makeshifts could in no manner meet requirements as could properly constructed, special hospital ships. These would indeed be floating homes of refuge, recognized by all nations as sacred to the unfortunate. It is to be hoped the Ship of State will take this idea in tow.

In another portion of the building there is a ship disinfecting apparatus, by the use of which long detention at Quarantine is made unnecessary; for with it purification is rapidly accomplished in the various parts of the vessel; while all germs contained in clothing, bedding, etc., of passengers and crew, are destroyed by a separate process. In the latter work the possibly infected material is subjected to extreme degrees of heat in closed cylinders, in which are movable carriers, mounted upon a wheel track used for running material in and out. In fumigating a vessel, with the apparatus mentioned, two sulphur furnaces are used-one on a tugboat which lies along side, and the other located on the wharf and mounted upon a track, so that it can be wheeled opposite any part of the ship. Each furnace is provided with a rotary suction blower driven by a steam engine and connected with the hold of the vessel by galvanized iron pipes. The air is drawn from the hold through pipe, forced over large pans of burning sulphur, and then

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driven back, through another duct, into the hold, purified by heat and mixed with sulphur dioxide.

It may be upon the principle of "the eternal fitness of things" (?), that the Museum people have arranged the exhibit in the end of the western hall. For in close relation with these disinfectorsthe slayers of the invisible enemies of man-are those things which remind him that "the spider's most attenuated thread is cable to man's tender tie." Here a highly-improved crematory suggests quick transit from flesh to ashes, after the transit from life to immortality. In a zinc casket, moving slowly down an inclined plane, the soul's useless tenement can slide into an atmosphere made rosy by 2,000 degrees of heat from Bunsen burners, and in a short time be reduced to remains of only five per cent. of the body.

From a sanitary standpoint, incineration leaves nothing to be desired. But its intensely practical aspect seems to lessen that solemnity which has so long accompanied the putting away of the senseless clay.

The incinerating urn follows in natural order in this department of the dead. Of these the most interesting is one which was used for holding the ashes of a Roman woman, who quit the world thousands of years ago. It is made of terra cotta and is 13 inches long by 7 inches wide. Upon the top reposes the figure of a Roman woman, and on one side are figures in relief, representing a battle scene. Though this urn is something of a work of art, one from Alaska shows that the Indians of that savage country were not far behind the ancient Romans as expert workers in clay. With the urns and incinerators is an air-tight casket, like those in which the bodies of the officers and crew of the U. S. steamer Jeannette, who perished on the Lena Delta, were transported. In this the body is surrounded with ground cork, and the edges of the casket cemented with white lead. If anyone has fear of being "snatched" from the bosom of Mother Earth after going there for the long rest, a visit to the Museum will disclose a means for preventing such a disagreeable calamity. This robber-defier is a 400-pound iron grave vault, made of riveted boiler plate. It is so equipped with springs and bolts, that when closed there is no way of getting it open except by use of dynamite or a cold chisel.

Of all the methods followed in disposing of the dead, the most peculiar is that illustrated by a model of the Tower of Silence, from the top of which the Parsee's dead body takes its flight. When he starts across the "Bridge of the Gatherer," his body is taken to the

top of the Tower of Silence and laid upon a grating, which is surrounded by a low wall, where sit with black, drooping wings, the awful sanitary agents of the Parsees. As soon as the bearers have left their lifeless burden, these feathered scavengers light upon it and devour everything but the bones, which fall through the grating to the tower's bottom.

As water is a favorite element of germs, the Museum has many devices in filters, drain pipes, etc., with which to trap them. In the drainage exhibit two very old specimens of wooden drain pipe are to be seen. One, which was part of the drainage system of Washington city many years ago, is 18 inches thick, and is simply a tree log with a two-inch hole through its center. The other, of the same nature and dimensions, was taken from a street in New York city, under which it had lain for nearly one hundred years. The wood of both specimens is in a fair state of preservation; much more so than a great deal of the old iron underground pipe exhibited.

In the department of water-closets-where can be found all the up-to-date apparatus in this branch, such as bowls, urinals, traps, pipes, etc.—is seen a section of iron drain pipe which belonged to the urinal in an insane hospital. It is four inches in diameter, and is nearly full of deposits of lime and other hardening constituents of the human body. This piece of old rusty pipe perhaps contains within its narrow circumference a story of "cause and effect" that might reveal the body-history of many who became inmates of the House of the Unthroned Mind.

Although the perfect hammock-one that will not make a bow of a sailor's back-has not yet been constructed, the Museum has a bed that, while perfectly straight, swings to the motion of the ship and keeps an "even keel." Besides this there are beds, cots, litters, stretchers and a quantity of other things that remind us that man is heir to many ills. While it has been said by good authority that the best way to take wounded men from the holds of ships is to carry them upon the back, effective mechanical arrangements for this purpose have been invented. The exhibit contains a number of these, one of the best of which is a stretcher with straps for securing the legs and arms of the wounded in such a manner that they can be hoisted from, or lowered into, a ship's hold without the least fear of slipping. If transfer to another ship is desired, the stretcher, after having been gotten on deck, can be slidden upon skids-if there is an incline-to the hold of the receiving vessel.

Besides the things in the Museum, here mentioned, there are many others, an account of which may be given later. Among them are foods, clothing, microscopes, photography, micro-photography and chemistry. The three latter subjects would afford matter of especial interest.

The Museum of Hygiene offers a fine opportunity for the medical student in Washington, and many avail themselves of this source of information. Classes from the Naval Medical Department find here much that has to do with the hygienic care of ships and the prevention of epidemic disease. Here the germs that love bilge water, and the bacteria that conduct their piratical business on the high seas, can be made to divulge the secrets of their existence, so that health in ward-room and forecastle can be an assured thing. Under the able management of Dr. Bates, the Museum is straightening out its long-cramped limbs. But there are so many limbs to be put into correct position that it takes a long time to get them all adjusted. In the store-room there is a wild confusion of illustrative material, mixed up in such a manner that we might properly call the place the Hall of Scientific Chaos. In it barrels and boxes rub noses with hygienic apparatus; imitation hams associate with anatomical specimens; canned meats lean against sham loaves of bread-and chaos finds a habitation in which to reign. At least it reigned that way when I was there last. But order would be quickly established if the Museum was possessed of a sufficiency of the one-thing-needful.

Congress does not appropriate funds for this work; and all the pecuniary help it gets must come from the Navy Department. CASUAL VISITOR.

A HYGIENIC OBSERVATORY.

We are indebted to a recent issue of the New York Times for the following description of the Observatoire de Montsouris, the Municipal Hygienic Observatory of Paris:

This institution is so little known outside of France, or, one might say, of Paris, and it is of such great practical importance, that a little account of its work wili certainly interest a wide circle of readers. Just at present this subject is of timely importance; because, with the union of the two great cities of New York and