Some diseases, pre-eminently those which arise from uncontrollable causes, from sudden fluctuations of temperature, electrical storms, and similar great variations of nature, would remain as active as ever; and pneumonia, bronchitis, congestion of the lungs, and summer cholera, would still hold their sway. Cancer, also, and allied constitutional diseases of strong hereditary character, would yet, as far as I can see, prevail. I fear, moreover, it must be admitted that two or three of the epidemic diseases, notably scarlet fever, measles, and whooping cough, would assert themselves, and, though limited in their diffusion by the sanitary provisions for arresting their progress, would claim a considerable number of victims.
With these last facts clearly in view, I must be careful not to claim for my model city more than it deserves; but calculating the mortality which would be saved, and comparing the result with the mortality which now prevails in the most favoured of our large English towns, I conclude that an average mortality of eight per thousand would be the maximum in the first generation living under this salutary regime. That in a succeeding generation Mr. Chadwick’s estimate of a possible mortality of five per thousand would be realised, I have no reasonable doubt, since the almost unrecognised, though potent, influence of heredity in disease would immediately lessen in intensity, and the healthier parents would bring forth the healthier offspring.
As my voice ceases to dwell on this theme of a yet unknown city of health, do not, I pray you, wake as from a mere dream. The details of the city exist. They have been worked out by those pioneers of sanitary science, so many of whom surround me to-day, and specially by him whose hopeful thought has suggested my design. I am, therefore, but as a draughtsman, who, knowing somewhat your desires and aspirations, have drawn a plan, which you in your wisdom can modify, improve, perfect. In this I know we are of one mind, that though the ideal we all of us hold be never reached during our lives, we shall continue to work successfully for its realisation. Utopia itself is but another word for time; and some day the masses, who now heed us not, or smile incredulously at our proceedings, will awake to our conceptions. Then our knowledge, like light rapidly conveyed from one torch to another, will bury us in its brightness.
By swift degrees the love of Nature works And warms the bosom: till at last, sublimed To rapture and enthusiastic heat, We feel the present DEITY, and taste The joy of GOD to see a happy world!