The cholera is certainly among us,—a case or two having
been detected in London, five cases in Liverpool, and isolated cases in other places,—but there has been no outbreak yet. All ships on arrival are carefully inspected ; the Local Govern- ment Board has warned all citizens to take the best pre- cautions,—namely, cleanliness, sobriety, and the use of boiled water ; and the parochial authorities are preparing additional hospital accommodation,—not, we fear, if an outburst does occur, to an adequate extent. There is a commendable absence of panic, and no cruelty visible, though there is some desire to utilise the dread of disease for the prevention of foreign immigration. We do not see that anything which could be done has been neglected, and understand from good sanitary authority that England was greatly favoured in the heavy rain of Thursday and Friday, which cooled the air and flushed all drains. We may escape the visitation yet, but if it comes there is nothing to be done but to face it quietly, to under- stand that alcohol does not kill bacilli, and that boiling water does; and to remember that, except in the frightful rapidity of its action, cholera is no more formidable than scarlet fever. If any of our readers are attacked, let him take a safe dose of opium and call a doctor.
