THE CANT OF CLEANLINESS.

Lyttelton Times, Volume CXXIII, Issue 15902, 13 April 1912, Page 5

THE CANT OF CLEANLINESS.

One of the worst diseases of to-day (writes the correspondent of a London paper) is the fear of disease, and one of the worst symptoms of that disease is the morbid craving for cleanliness. Now cleanliness is all very well in the soap-and-water sense of the word. The mere unnecessary laving of one’3 person at least does no harm, if it does no good. There is even something to be said in favour of the housewife’s idea of cleanliness, which consists of transferring the dust from the carpot to the walls and pictures and. mantelpiece. It is a comparatively inexpensive hobby, and is doubtless muoh more entertaining than dropping pins and picking them up again; also, it help# to keep the woman from writing novels, playing bridge, or joining advanced movements. But tho kind of cleanliness that. is sending England t-o the dogs is the cleanliness of the man who has his telephone fitted with a safety mouthpiece; who holds his breath every time he passes a dust-bin; and who secretly wishes he could afford to bum his handkerchiefs instead of sending them to the laundry. To enumerate his imbecilities would be impossible. Suffice it to say that his latest crank appeared at the end of last summer, when lie couldi bo seen making himself ridiculous, and his family and friends uncomfortable, by leaping about the room and smashing everything breakable in a vain ATTEMTT TO ASSASSINATE TUB HOTTSE-TLT. Take the follow apart and let him talk to you, and you will find that his whole conversation revolves round, what he calls the “disease gem.” He thinks in antiseptics. He is a septomaniac; and he will stigmatise most ■of tho commonest habits of everyday life as “ a disgusting and highly-dam-gerous habit, sir.” Tho worst of it is, this Oult of Clean- ' linesa is 60 widespread that it has created a regular market for articles on the subject. In respectable journals, whose editors ought to know better, you will find diatribes by doctors (who do know better) under some such nonsensical hoading as “Death in the Napkin,” or “ Should Bowlers Be Boiled—and so forth?” One of tho septomanac’s pot abominations is that which, with characteristic politeness, he is pleased to tern “face fungus.” Tho sight of a mouetachOj still more a beard, drives him into rhapsodies on the superior hygienic advantages of exposing oneself to the risk of barber’s itch or blood-poisoning from a self-inflicted gash. Strange to say, ho rarely shaves his head, though, if the hair of the face be “ germinous,” the hair of the head, covering a much larger'area, must bo still more so. But it is only his amazing inccnsi*tency that makes the septom&niao interesting. What oould bo more ridiculous than to soak one’s toothbrush ia

carbolic and use only paper serviettes so as to burn them after use, ‘ while compelled; a few moments later, to sit i in the poisoned atmosphere of an oven, crowded railway compartment or dine at a resturant where every known rule or hkai/th n t . rSOBADLY VIOLATED. ' / ' The septomaniac is a danger, foecttaa# he' fails to realise that dirt/ is an e> sential part of our civilisation. Dirt is a vested interest, like football, and drunkenness, and unemplovnjent, and jingoism. You cannot! abolish it With* out inflicting untold misery on thousands. Suppose it- were possible to pass a law compelling nntiscptio oleanlinoss on all industries. Whet would become of the tinned-meat trade, and the milk trade, and the jam trade, and a hundred other trades? Why, bankruptcy, which means the starvation at innocent widows and orphans, whoso substance is derived from the dividenda earned in tho industry of dirt. Against tho peril;; of dirt the only remedy known to science is more dirt. Who is the one per. \pn on earth who simply cannot got diphtheria from & defective sewer P Why, the man who every day of his life 1 INHALES THE POISON OP THE DRAINS.

Very well. Every time you Blaugb. ter a disease germ you weaken your power of resistances against the very disease from which you are seeking to protect yourself. If you were to snufc yourself up on a desert island and exI tend your antiseptic activities indefli nitely, you would soon arrive at the stage in which a speck of dust would give you a temperature, while shaking hands with a dangerously civilised, shipwrecked mariner would" certainly kill you. Therefore, soap yourself if you will for the sake of appearance; but avoid the habitual use of antiseptics as much ■ as you would the plague.