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 ^UNITED STATES OF AMEKICA.' 
 

THE 
 
 STORY OF A STOMACH: 
 
 AN EGOTISM. 
 
 BY 
 
 A REFORMED DYSPEPTIC. 
 
 NEW YORK: . 
 PUBLISHED BY EOWLER AND WELLS, 
 
 389 Broadway. 
 1867. 
 
^> 
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1866, by 
 
 Fowler and Wells, 
 
 in the Clerk's Office of the District Court for the Southern District of 
 
 New York. 
 
 RIVERSIDE. CAMBRIDGE : 
 
 STEREOTYPED AND PRINTED BY 
 
 H. 0. HOUGHTON AND COMPANY. 
 
DEDICATED 
 
 TO 
 
 MY WIFE, 
 
 WHO IS PRINCIPALLY INTERESTED IN MY REFORM, AND WHO MAY 
 LEARN SOMETHING FROM A PERUSAL OF MY STORY. 
 
 R. D. 
 
STORY OF A STOMACH. 
 
 PART THE FIRST. 
 
 I. 
 
 I remember a curious fable among the literary- 
 recreations of my childhood, in which the various 
 organs of the human body were made actors, — the 
 Stomach being king and chief hero. The inability 
 of any of these to exercise its function independ- 
 ently of the central power, was happily shown ; 
 and the repentant subjects, lately resolute rebels, 
 were successfully reconstructed, and left in a state 
 of active and healthy loyalty quite edifying to the 
 admiring reader. 
 
 The object of the fabulist seemed to be to illus- 
 trate the doctrine of mutual dependence. To my 
 mind, he taught much more ; and gave the great 
 central organ a royal prominence which it were 
 better for us always to acknowledge. 
 
 In selecting the theme of my story, nobody 
 will accuse me of pandering to popularity. The 
 Stomach is not the fashion. Regnant though it be 
 among its vital brotherhood, yet it can by no means 
 
6 IMPORTANCE OF THE STOMACH. 
 
 be said to be a favorable subject for literary enthu- 
 siasm. So far as I know, novelists never choose it 
 as a basis for imaginative architecture ; nor do 
 poets often idealize its sober history in stately iam- 
 bics, or playfully illustrate its moods for the respon- 
 sive lyre. 
 
 When I consider our total dependence on its ac- 
 tion for all that is effective and enjoyable, I confess 
 some resentment of this neglect. Think what we 
 owe to good digestion, and say if my impulse be not 
 right. Without the vitality which it generates, 
 not only would Reason flounder hopelessly in the 
 mire of its own weakness, but even the poetic 
 flames of Imagination would expire and leave but 
 dead embers. All the admirable operations of body 
 and brain find in the Stomach their origin and sup- 
 port. History, Invention, Romance, Chivalry, Art, 
 — all owe to the inspiration of health, their grand- 
 est achievements, sublimest conceptions, most re- 
 splendent glory, and most eloquent recital. Good 
 digestion assisted Napoleon to the empire of Eu- 
 rope ; its failure caused his first great defeat, and 
 helped to rivet the chain that bound him to St. 
 Helena. I imagine that Prometheus typifies a gas- 
 tric calamity, and that the remorseless vulture which 
 devoured his unfortunate liver, was emblematical 
 of a perpetual dyspepsia. Fastened to Ms rock, 
 he seems an antetype of the great Corsican, with 
 the fatal cancer gnawing his vitals. Can you im- 
 agine Pericles without a capable Stomach ? or a 
 
THE SOURCE OF VITALITY. 7 
 
 dyspeptic Helen, in place of that glorious creature 
 whose magnetism crazed two nations, and even 
 convulsed the empire of the gods ? 
 
 I affirm the Stomach to be one parent of all ex- 
 cellent thought and action. Not only is the phys- 
 ical health dependent on its integrity, but the moral 
 also. It is the source whence the brain derives 
 its power for clear thought, and the nerves and 
 muscles for strong action. All outward causes of 
 inspiration fail when opposed by its defection. A 
 fit of colic will neutralize the finest effects of elo- 
 quence ; and all the sublimities of Milton are but 
 vapors when your nerves are torn with the head- 
 ache occasioned by last night's debauch. On the 
 other hand, when the Stomach is in full force, what 
 prodigies of labor will the body perform ! what 
 miracles of conception leap forth from the brain ! — 
 a single large thought sometimes setting civiliza- 
 tion ahead a full century. 
 
 The arrogant brain is guilty of a usurpation of 
 honors; and therein the Stomach hath great 
 wrongs. In its appreciation, the reflective world 
 of to-day is not fairly up to the mark of iEsop ; 
 the sesthetic world knows not the Stomach at all ; 
 and the world in general utterly fails to compre- 
 hend the source of its immortal power. The 
 strength generated by its fine alchemy is spent in 
 searching all the dark corners of the universe for 
 remote facts, which, when found, often prove but so 
 
8 DYSPEPSIA. 
 
 much rubbish in the storehouses of knowledge. 
 Instead of penetrating our own organic mysteries, 
 a full comprehension of which would so greatly 
 augment our power for achievement in all other 
 departments of science, we contemptuously neglect 
 the study of our vital mechanism, and ignore that 
 cunning union of spirit and matter which affords 
 the greatest miracle offered for our contemplation. 
 
 To realize all this, we should suppose to be not 
 only easy but inevitable. No one will deny that 
 the finest nerves, the most highly organized brains, 
 are dependent for much of their excellence upon 
 perfect nutrition. Yet observe the ill-usage which 
 we remorselessly lavish on the Stomach; stuffed, 
 as it is liable to be to-day, with atrocious com- 
 pounds of misdirected art, and, to-morrow, abso- 
 lutely starved into exasperation, if not feebleness. 
 Appetite, whim, fashion, and the fancied necessities 
 of business, by turns become its tyrants. Seldom 
 is it treated with the consideration due to its para- 
 mount importance, till its functions become so im- 
 paired by abuse as to disable it from fulfilling our 
 unreasonable requirements. Its final exhaustion, 
 entailing disorder and loss of power, and often 
 acute wretchedness, on the entire system, compel a 
 recognition of its rights, and an acknowledgment, 
 in our persistent efforts toward amendments, of 
 the singular folly of which we have been guilty. 
 This acknowledgment is wrung from us by neces- 
 sity ; and we consent to atone our errors, through 
 
EDUCATION OF THE STOMACH. 9 
 
 a base homage to fear, when we perceive that our 
 sins have invoked for our torment the presence of 
 that impalpable but terrible demon — Dyspepsia. 
 
 In curious illustration of our anxiety to ignore the 
 rights of the Stomach, is the saying that we ought, 
 in daily life, to be unconscious of its existence. As 
 sensibly might a man ignore his eyes or ears. So 
 common have the evils of indigestion become, that I 
 suppose those who use this saying, regard a freedom 
 from actual dyspeptic sufferings as the perfection of 
 health. Of course the natural action of no organ 
 ever causes discomfort ; but this negative blessing 
 of exemption is not all that we are entitled to ask 
 of that which should be a source of actual pleasure. 
 Because the eye or ear is sometimes the seat of pain, 
 who would therefore forego the delights of the 
 nobler senses, and, content with a simple immunity 
 from suffering, renounce the exquisite pleasure in- 
 spired by a fine landscape, and the ravishment that 
 thrills every nerve when Mezzolini or Morensi 
 translates, by voice, the divine conceptions of the 
 masters of song ? 
 
 The truth is, the Stomach should always be so 
 healthful as to make the exercise of its functions 
 a source of positive enjoyment. To this end, 
 
 Its education, in civilized life, should be made 
 an art, like that of other organs, which we already 
 recognize as fit subjects for sesthetic culture. 
 
10 EATING, A FINE ART. 
 
 Unquestionably, in the estimation of men, the 
 enjoyment of a good dinner ranks in importance 
 with pleasures social and intellectual. We go to 
 Delmonico's as we would visit the academies of 
 Music and Design. To secure the gratification of 
 this appetite we often submit to sacrifices the most 
 severe. Rhetorically, we speak of "the feast of 
 reason"; the very simile proving our high estimate 
 of the sensuous repast. And when we consider its 
 effect on us, — that on its composition and digestion 
 depend the sustenance of the body, the serenity of 
 the temper, and the electrical force of the mind, — 
 I think we cannot resist the conclusion that the art 
 of eating is a very fine art indeed ; and that its cult- 
 ure is an object well worth the care of all who are 
 compelled to use bodies as instruments of their 
 souls, and to submit to the various influences which 
 the condition of the former necessarily exercises on 
 the education of the latter. 
 
 II. 
 
 I do not propose, however, any scientific treat- 
 ment of a subject so large. These pages will con- 
 stitute only a personal record, accompanied by 
 hints and suggestions. The reader may have no- 
 ticed that my first sentence began with that most 
 self-estimable of personal pronouns, so often mag- 
 nified by our vanity to proportions which over- 
 
WHY AN EGOTISM. 11 
 
 shadow all its brotherhood ; and I am very sincere 
 in declaring that I entertain the deliberate design 
 of making its recurrence frequent and perpetual. 
 My sketch is to relate to myself; and the conclu- 
 sions given will mainly be such as have been de- 
 rived from my own experiences. » 
 
 It has been my fortune to lead a life of realities ; 
 one identified with events so varied and tumultu- 
 ous as to disable me, in general, from taking cog- 
 nizance of facts not forced directly upon my notice. 
 Living alternately in the East and the West ; some- 
 times trifling with the dainty compositions of French 
 cuisiniers, and sometimes dividing with the squatter 
 on the prairie his meal of fried bacon and pearlash 
 biscuit, or devouring, after the fashion of camps, 
 the army ration which forms the common measure 
 of every private soldier's stomach, and decides 
 them all to be of the same regulation pattern ; 
 doomed oftentimes to the martyrdom of travel by 
 railway, where the only theory of the time-table 
 is to make connections — (it never seeming to 
 occur to the managers that eating is a primary 
 necessity, existing long anterior to the invention of 
 the steam-engine or the contrivance of tramways ;) 
 subject, in short, to the most violent mutations of 
 our adventurous American life, I have lavished 
 upon my stomach the usual amount of ill-usage 
 and suffered the customary retribution, through the 
 affliction of dyspepsia in some or other of the va- 
 rious disguises in which that many-visaged disorder 
 
12 PERIL IN INFANCY. 
 
 delights to make its unwelcome masquerade. Thus, 
 by a costly tuition, I think myself qualified to be- 
 come a pedant in hygiene ; and as I believe the 
 schooling to have been valuable, I desire to in- 
 struct in turn (and by processes shorter and less 
 rugged than those I followed) such unfortunates as 
 may have suffered like myself, without, like me, 
 having found and applied the remedy they desire. 
 
 III. 
 
 From the most reliable evidence I have been 
 able to obtain in regard to an event not within the 
 scope of my personal recollection, I was introduced 
 into the world with a physical constitution equal, at 
 least, to those of average babies at the same un- 
 lucky period of existence. For two years — so run 
 the traditions — every thing went well. In an evil 
 hour, however, to remedy some slight derangement 
 (which Nature, doubtless, if let alone, would speed- 
 ily have removed), I was placed in charge of the 
 very person, of all men in the world, who had the 
 most direct and positive interest in keeping me 
 ill, — namely, the family physician. In consequence, 
 I was soon reduced to a condition of the greatest 
 danger. Drugs had nearly done their work ; and 
 the delicate organs of babyhood almost ceased to 
 contend against the poisonous administrations of the 
 regular practice. Presently, a conclave of doctors 
 
CHILDHOOD. 13 
 
 was summoned ; a consultation of awful gravity en- 
 sued ; and, by the voice of their united ignorance, 
 my trembling life was solemnly dedicated to imme- 
 diate destruction. This sentence, however, proved 
 my salvation ; for, by the extinction of the profes- 
 sional hope, I was relieved from further endurance 
 of the fatal potions which had already begun to 
 chill my little heart with the damps of the Stygian 
 river. Nature was again left alone, to contend, as 
 best she might, with the assaulting disease, fearfully 
 reinforced by the foreign allies which a false science 
 had introduced into the very citadel of her empire. 
 For a whole week, my hesitating life trembled in 
 the balance ; but at length Nature gained a sort of 
 Antietam victory, and overcame the enemy after a 
 fashion, though herself too terribly exhausted by 
 the struggle to be able to gather the full fruits of 
 her hard-won triumph. I recovered, indeed, but 
 very slowly. My system had become enfeebled be- 
 yond complete repair; and its pristine vigor was 
 gone forever. I think of that period as one recalls 
 the dim outlines of a sad, half-remembered dream. 
 Back in the past, those earlier years of my sickly 
 childhood seem like weary ages of another exist- 
 ence. I remember myself growing slowly up, a 
 puny and fragile boy; and it was not till I had 
 painfully reached the age of sixteen years or there- 
 abouts that I ventured even to hope for such a 
 partial recovery of health as should fit me for the 
 less laborious of those duties which manhood brings 
 to all. 
 
14 DR. TRAIL. 
 
 A feeble childhood generates quiet and sedentary 
 tastes; and these, again, discourage the habits of 
 activity so essential to health in this exacting pe- 
 riod. Thus, I naturally became studious ; and nat- 
 urally, too, my thoughts lingered on my condition, 
 and dallied with every suggestion which offered a 
 hope for its improvement. I was inevitably at- 
 tracted by those modern theories which seek (in 
 some respects not vainly} to supply in science the 
 hiatus of a rational system of medicine. Much, 
 even in this early period, did I become indebted to 
 the reflective habits thus formed, and the frequent 
 hints for the prevention of disease which I gleaned 
 from miscellaneous sources and had the hardihood 
 to test in practice. Yet, when I review those 
 years, I vividly realize their profound ignorance ; 
 and I can but marvel at the tenacity with which 
 Nature adheres to her rights, and so often triumphs 
 in her desperate contests with the combined forces 
 of ignorance and folly. 
 
 On reaching the stage of manhood, I entered 
 upon it with far better health than I had dared to 
 expect. The first five or six years were passed in 
 quiet and studious pursuits. The consequence was 
 nervous exhaustion ; and having finally learned the 
 value of exercise from its deprivation, I changed 
 my occupations to secure its benefits. About this 
 time, too, I fell in with Dr. Trail's " Hydropathic 
 Encyclopedia " ; a book of wonderful vigor and clear- 
 ness, and marked by a thoroughness of professional 
 
AVERSIONS OF CHILDHOOD. 15 
 
 study and a severity of logic, which render the 
 more dangerous his admixture of some as plausible 
 sophisms as ever captivated a willing fancy. From 
 this book I know that I derived great benefit. 
 Many of its maxims I interwove into my philosophy 
 of health ; and many of its processes became reme- 
 dies on which I learned to rely for deliverance from 
 the spectre of dyspepsia already following my foot- 
 steps. The valuable of these I still retain ; the 
 worthless have perished in the ordeal of practice. 
 
 For one fortunate circumstance I have reason to 
 be profoundly grateful. After the disastrous ex- 
 periment of my infancy, I was permitted to remain 
 almost entirely free from the administration of 
 drugs. Save the harmless simples sometimes pre- 
 scribed by maternal anxiety, I became almost a 
 stranger to the use of medicines. Whether from 
 an early consciousness, inspired by hearing the le- 
 gend of my narrow infantile escape rehearsed at 
 an age when I was just able to divine its moral, 
 though too young to retain the recollection of its 
 recital ; or from some idiosyncratic instinct, inex- 
 plicable by positive science — my first ability to 
 manifest aversion was employed to show an inflexi- 
 ble antagonism to those prescriptions by which doc- 
 tors manage to fasten their income-tax upon the 
 expenses of society. At the age of four years, I 
 recollect suffering intolerable agony from the dread 
 of vaccination at the hands of a portly gentleman 
 with saddle-bags, in whose benignant aspect I 
 
16 A JUVENILE VICTORY. 
 
 seemed to discover all the malice of the great ene- 
 my of our race ; and at eight, I obstinately rejected 
 the inevitable quinine, which my original evil gen- 
 ius, the family physician, sought to force down my 
 rebellious throat while I was suffering the miseries 
 of a detestable ague. I have always felt disposed 
 to celebrate the result as a great triumph : for I 
 actually carried my point in spite of the professional 
 and family league formed against me ; and I had 
 the grim satisfaction of " wearing out " the disease 
 during six mortal weeks of alternating chills and 
 fever fits, and, in this way, of achieving a perma- 
 nent cure, as well as of gaining a moral victory 
 over the doctor and his allies. These last were 
 certain members of my own family whose experi- 
 ence, I thought, should have taught them better ; 
 for they had themselves followed medical treatment 
 for the same disease till it had reduced them to a 
 condition in which they suffered about equal evils 
 from the recurrence of the disorder and the ill ef- 
 fects of the drugs. But, on the whole, my father's 
 family had no great faith in Materia Medica; so 
 that I was spared many perils which, otherwise, I 
 might have been obliged to encounter. 
 
 Gradually, as a means of relief from the evils of 
 indigestion, mainly manifested in general debility 
 and frequent violent headaches, I came to depend 
 upon a tolerably careful diet, and a plentiful use of 
 water in the various modes prescribed by the oracles 
 of hygeopathic science. I am now aware of having 
 
EEYG1ENIC HABITS. 17 
 
 sometimes employed the latter unwisely ; as, for 
 instance, when I once for some weeks overdid 
 the application of a morning shower-bath (rashly 
 allowed to fall on the head) while lacking the in- 
 herent vitality, and neglecting the active subse- 
 quent exercise, required to produce the necessary 
 reaction and restore to the blood its indispensable 
 vigor of circulation. (To show how truly circum- 
 stances do alter cases, I will state that now I can 
 use the same shower daily, with the most gratify- 
 ing effects.) I am certain, also, that at times I 
 reduced my diet to a point too low to replace the 
 waste of the system and maintain its strength. But 
 I believe that my general course was judicious ; 
 and it is to the habits thus formed and rigidly prac- 
 ticed, of abstaining from the free use of medicines 
 as well as of stimulants — especially alcohol and 
 tobacco — during the formative period, that I at- 
 tribute the ability developed later in life to over- 
 come the grave difficulties to which I was earlier 
 subjected. Nature not having been enfeebled by a 
 too constant contest with medical and stimulating 
 poisons, has thus been enabled to bear the burden 
 of other bad habits, and even to accumulate strength 
 with which to second my more recent efforts in be- 
 half of the long-suffering Stomach, and, consequen- 
 tially, of the whole system. 
 
18 FORTY YEARS OLD. 
 
 IV. 
 
 It was under these circumstances that I ap- 
 proached my fortieth year ; — a sort of half-way point 
 in the journey of life, most suggestive to the reflect- 
 ive mind, and calculated to produce an important 
 influence upon habits not already unchangeable. 
 Like Omar, I had my little programme formed 
 for life. I had always looked forward to this age 
 as one which must bring me comparative rest. In 
 reaching it, I had said, I shall have passed the crisis 
 of business affairs, and be able to command the ne- 
 cessary time for recreation and self-improvement ; 
 and my leisure shall be employed in enriching my 
 mind by the study of books, by travel, and by 
 those artistic and social pleasures which bring a 
 charm to the passing moment, while they impress 
 us with lessons of enduring value. The plan was 
 well enough, though fate seriously interfered with its 
 consummation. The pinnacle of life rightly reached, 
 what supreme pleasures may it not overlook ! — a 
 past well spent in the execution of wise and be- 
 neficent plans and dotted all along with successful 
 results ; a future to which hope, like the setting sun, 
 lends its loveliest glow, and among whose fruited 
 years we may gather the rewards which earlier toils 
 and passions disabled us from reaching. In pictur- 
 ing my descent down this flowery path, into the 
 tranquil valley of age, I had not been unmindful 
 of the inevitable decay of health ; and had even 
 
DYSPEPSIA. 19 
 
 permitted myself to contemplate the possibility of 
 a moderate resort to those physical stimulants, which 
 then, if ever, can be made useful in the economy of 
 the system. But as I approached the climacteric, 
 I perceived indications of exhaustion which excited 
 my alarm. A winter of extreme labor and anxiety 
 was followed by symptoms of dyspepsia more marked 
 than I had experienced for years. In vain I re- 
 ported to the most approved practices of hydropa- 
 thy ; fruits and coarse breads were made to supply 
 the place of concentrated foods at breakfast, while 
 my dinner was subjected to equal care in both 
 quality and amount. Tea and coffee I entirely 
 abolished, as well as condiments generally, and all 
 known stimulants. Exercise in walking and rid- 
 ing I took with what freedom is permitted by city 
 life. All was in vain. As the spring found me, so 
 did it leave me; and I entered on the summer 
 with a conviction that I must seek a life in the 
 country, and by a total change of habits, rescue 
 myself forcibly from the deadly grasp that seemed 
 fastening upon my very vitals. 
 
 Apparently, I was not disabled from ordinary 
 labor, but went to my office daily, and seemingly 
 performed the duties of a man in health. But my 
 energies were enfeebled and my spirits depressed ; 
 my existence seemed robbed of its pleasure and my 
 mind of its power. The food I ate was slowly and 
 imperfectly digested ; and I suffered an immense 
 diminution of that vitality which is the motor of 
 
20 THE STOMACH MUTINOUS. 
 
 the animal machine, and without which the ma- 
 chine itself loses its capacity for functional perform- 
 ance. Instead of the prompt and cheerful re- 
 sponse which a healthful and well-trained stomach 
 always makes to the proper introduction of appro- 
 priate food, that organ, in this case, seemed reso- 
 lutely bent on following a line of behavior which it 
 is almost divine charity to characterize as mutinous 
 and perverse. At times, the food eaten would be al- 
 lowed to remain for hours without a sign of hospi- 
 table welcome ; while at others, absolute objection 
 was made to its presence, and, instead of the sweet 
 influences which the digestive juices should have 
 lavished lovingly upon it, they assumed an in- 
 tensely acid and acrid character, to the great scan- 
 dal of my physiological system, and the serious 
 interruption of the entire animal economy. So 
 general had this condition become, that an occa- 
 sional variation in favor of healthy digestion was 
 a novelty. In fact, had it continued, I do not 
 know but the abnormal might so far have triumphed 
 over the natural, as to generate a sombre satisfac- 
 tion in the conscious possession of a phenomenal pe- 
 culiarity to distinguish me from my kind ; so that, 
 presently, I might have come to regard my Stom- 
 ach with a morbid admiration something akin to the 
 curious regard which wonder-mongers manifest for 
 unnatural monstrosities, like bearded women and 
 two-headed calves. 
 
A CRISIS. 21 
 
 V. 
 
 This period brought a crisis in my physical his- 
 tory ; and the turn was accomplished thus. A 
 friend, whose enormous financial and constructive 
 labors, not unknown to .fame, had disordered his 
 digestion, and who was my usual morning compan- 
 ion " down-town," astonished me, during one of 
 those matutinal trips, by insisting on vacating his 
 seat in a Madison Avenue stage, and calling at 
 a fruiterer's, opposite the Metropolitan Hotel, to pro- 
 cure a prescription ordered by his physician. Not 
 to lose his society, I also surrendered my place to 
 a surprised and delighted candidate poised patiently 
 on the steps, and followed my friend into the shop 
 aforesaid ; in no way comprehending, I confess, 
 how a vender of fruits and confections was expect- 
 ed to develop the ability to prepare a medical com- 
 pound, but willing, nevertheless, to wait and ob- 
 serve whatever new manifestation of human eccen- 
 tricity I might be destined to discover. But the 
 shopman seemed not at all disconcerted by the re- 
 quirement made on his skill ; and I readily com- 
 prehended the reason, when I found that the reme- 
 dy which Dr. C. had prescribed for my friend, was 
 simply a package of peach-pits. The order was 
 filled with commendable alacrity, and the service 
 embellished with the most emphatic indorsements 
 of the efficacy of the curious remedy, which the 
 seller, with a vivacity verging on enthusiasm, pro- 
 
22 PEACH-PITS. 
 
 nounced absolutely sure to overcome any case of 
 dyspepsia, if faithfully used for a reasonable period 
 of trial. Of thi& article, as merchandise, I had 
 never before even heard, though conscious of a dim 
 impression that the concocters of hygienic bitters of 
 various sorts, used peach-pits to give a tonic char- 
 acter to their preparations. (And since that time, 
 I may remark in passing, I have often endeavored, 
 and generally in vain, to procure them in other 
 large cities, and even in other places in New York.) 
 It appears that the peach-pits are a favorite pre- 
 scription with Dr. C. for his dyspeptic patients ; 
 and that his reliance for a supply, was upon this 
 vender of fruits and confections, who made it a 
 point always to have them on sale. So confident 
 was the honest man's assertion in their favor, that 
 I was quite impressed by his statements ; and, giv- 
 ing way incontinently to the pressure of his dec- 
 lamation, I hastened to follow the example of my 
 friend, and invest in their purchase a note of U. S. 
 fractional currency, purporting to be of the legal 
 monetary valuation of fifty cents ; and for which 
 representative amount, I secured a supply of the 
 precious prescriptive pits, sufficient for at least two 
 full weeks of faithful administration. The direc- 
 tion was simply to eat them, one or more at a time, 
 to the extent of say a dozen or two in a day ; — a 
 requirement easy of fulfillment, as it scarcely de- 
 manded the exercise of either perseverance or self- 
 denial. 
 
AN IMPROVEMENT. 23 
 
 Now, the philosophical operations of this remedy 
 I do not propose to discuss ; it not being essential 
 to my purpose, which is accomplished with the 
 simple statement of its effects. To be quite candid 
 with a reader between whom and myself I very 
 much desire to establish and maintain confidential 
 relations, I am thoroughly ignorant of its chemical 
 nature. I have heard dreadful hints that the little 
 germ of vitality enveloped in the peach-stone, is rich 
 in the fatal possession of Prussic Acid ; and I con- 
 fess to have thrilled and shuddered under a sense 
 of mingled admiration and terror when I read, one 
 day, that splendid apotheosis of the Peach, where the 
 brilliant authoress of " Azarian " speaks of " the 
 subtly sweet poison at its heart." But I here close 
 my eyes resolutely to all the deductions of logic, and 
 the fearful whispers of chemical admonition ; for I 
 ate the article experimentally, and not on scientific 
 principles, and, having realized from its use un- 
 equivocal benefits, do not care a doit if it shall be 
 found by analysis to contain all the deadly influ- 
 ences concentrated in the fatal poison of the Borgias. 
 As its use was followed by an immediate and decid- 
 ed improvement in the temper and action of my 
 Stomach, it is impossible that I shall refuse to 
 credit it with a large agency in this change. Alone, 
 it might not have been able to accomplish an abso- 
 lute cure ; but, as a means of restoring tone to the 
 digestive organs, and thus inaugurating a complete 
 reform in their action, I concede to it an almost 
 miraculous efficacy. 
 
24 QUANTRELL. 
 
 I will add, here, that I have since found similar 
 results from the use of the Bitter Almond ; and I 
 am inclined to the belief that there is no material 
 difference in the remedial effects of the two seeds. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Very soon after my commencement with the 
 peach-pits, I was again obliged to go West on busi- 
 ness ; and a period of autumnal travel in a de- 
 lightful prairie region, with abundant activity and 
 variety of manual exercise, doubtless aided greatly 
 in their good effect. I do not, indeed, precisely 
 see how it could produce hygienic benefit for me 
 to pass through the hands of that terrible type of 
 diabolism, the guerilla Quantrell, and to witness the 
 murder of a hundred and fifty defenceless men 
 and boys, and the unprovoked destruction of their 
 homes, over the heads of their families, as was my 
 painful destiny during that journey; and I am 
 sure, from experience, that, to feel for six hours, in 
 the midst of carnage and conflagration, as I did at 
 Lawrence, Kansas, on that fearful 21st of August, 
 that the tossing of a copper would fitly indicate my 
 own chances between life and death, is not favora- 
 ble to that serenity of mind which I believe to be 
 essential to perfect digestion ; but, setting aside 
 these disagreeable incidents, I am able fully to ap- 
 preciate the advantages to health derivable from 
 
PRAIRIE LIFE. 25 
 
 the novelty, the exercise, the change of diet, the 
 free respiration of a stimulating air, inseparable 
 from a wagon-trip over the rolling plains of a coun- 
 try like Kansas. Such a trip, enjoyed during the 
 most delightful days of autumn, in a region where 
 autumn is not only surpassingly lovely in itself, but 
 where its resplendent beauties were tempered by 
 the virginal freshness of youth, may well give to 
 the physical life such an impulse as will thoroughly 
 re-tone all its faculties, in spite of the few startling 
 experiences I have named. In this case, I am 
 sure that the favorable influence was no way les- 
 sened by my good companionship ; and I credit as 
 hygienic the spectacular effects produced on me by 
 Indian holiday shows, and by those barbaric rites 
 by which the former lords of the continent simulate 
 a traditionary power, and seek to impress their 
 white masters with the grandeur of a nationality 
 long since trodden into helplessness beneath the 
 heel of a ruthless civilization. At all events, in 
 spite of Quantrell and much atrocious cookery, and 
 nights by no means free from the depredations of 
 vermin not less sanguinary, if less dangerous, than 
 the guerillas, I returned from the expedition late 
 in October, greatly improved in general health. 
 This advantage, however, was seriously diminished 
 by a closing ride of many days and nights by rail ; 
 and the residue was not sufficient to withstand a 
 temporary incarceration to which I was condemned 
 in a boarding-house where the diet was distasteful 
 and the society uncongenial. And this leads me 
 
26 A CHANGE OF BASE. 
 
 to say a word in deprecation of the mercenary and 
 indifferent spirit which usually governs these cheap 
 substitutes for homes. We must advance the stand- 
 ard of living ; and, by showing a willingness liberally 
 to pay for a higher grade of accommodation, induce 
 the employment, in the boarding-house business, of 
 a grade of talent such as any intelligent and well- 
 bred man would require in a housekeeper, or even 
 a wife. I know, from a varied experience, that my 
 own chances for health are greatly increased when- 
 ever I am able to enjoy the comforts of my home ; 
 and I regard it as not the most trifling of the testi- 
 monials due to its feminine " head centre," that 
 her virtues embrace the perceptions of fitness and 
 taste necessary to its satisfactory management. 
 
 VII. 
 
 Short as was this last boarding-house era, it pro- 
 duced a marked recurrence of my old symptoms, 
 and I speedily made an opportunity to effect a 
 change. A seemingly fateful series of accidents 
 and incidents resulted in my domestication for the 
 remainder of the autumn and the whole of the fol- 
 lowing winter, in a private family where the foot- 
 ing was social rather than mercenary, and where 
 all the previous unfavorable conditions were ex- 
 actly reversed. Here the diet was nutritious and 
 appetizing without being gross ; the food was well 
 
REQUIREMENTS OF CLIMATE. 27 
 
 selected and well cooked ; and the meals were 
 served with taste and embellished with a conversa- 
 tional charm sufficient to invest the plainest repast 
 with the luxurious gusto of an Apician feast. This 
 family belonged essentially to the genus of good liv- 
 ers ; and its esprit absolutely forbade the exercise of 
 a rigid dietary. Its head was a lady of English birth 
 and breeding, accustomed to the enjoyment of ta- 
 ble pleasures ; and, made defiant by robust health, 
 she had always alternated the intellectual pleasures 
 which she was well fitted to create and enjoy, with 
 a reckless indulgence of her appetite for high liv- 
 ing. This appetite it had never occurred to her to 
 restrain on emigrating to America. The trans- 
 plantation of dietetic habits is always an error ; 
 these, like the natural productions intended to 
 maintain them, should always grow from the con- 
 ditions of the country. It were as sensible for a 
 traveler to the tropics, to provide himself with a 
 wardrobe of furs, or for a pilgrim to the North 
 Pole, to sail into the shadow of icebergs, clad in a 
 costume adapted to equatorial heats, as for the na- 
 tives of any region, on removing to another meteoro- 
 logically its opposite, to insist on retaining their old 
 modes of life. In this case, my friend had brought 
 from lymphatic England those sensuous habits quite 
 suitable to its moist atmosphere, where temper- 
 ature aids temperament, and out-door exercise 
 strengthens both ; but in attempting to practice 
 them in our drier and more stimulating climate, 
 she had gradually undermined her physical consti- 
 
28 CHANGE OF DIET. 
 
 tution, and made compulsory a wholesome modera- 
 tion in Epicurian enjoyments. Her voluptuous 
 nature had been so tempered by encroaching in- 
 firmities, as to reduce her present practice to the 
 golden medium essential to the health. A diet 
 equally removed from grossness and poverty, I 
 am now aware to be most conducive to the con- 
 servation of that chiefest of physical blessings ; and 
 I cannot repress an impulse of thankfulness when- 
 ever I remember that, since that era, I have not 
 experienced as much inconvenience altogether from 
 dyspepsia as I had often suffered before in a single 
 month. 
 
 The lessons which I learned here, were, to a 
 great extent, involuntary. The circumstances in 
 which I was placed, seemed insensibly to compel 
 the abandonment of my more rigid practices. The 
 breakfast-steak — tender, warm, and done to a turn 
 — at once assumed an unwonted prominence in the 
 operations of that meal ; the delicious rolls and 
 buckwheats unceremoniously displaced the coarse 
 breads which I had before regarded as a necessity ; 
 and the real coffee completely supplanted my usual 
 aqueous draught, so charming as we read of it in 
 pastoral idyls, — so chilling when we drink it on a 
 winter's morning, shivering with the mercury at 
 zero. This breakfast was not only eaten : it was 
 enjoyed. Under the admirable influences which 
 it exercised, even Cornaro, stern ascetic as he was, 
 must have proved infidel to the faith on which 
 rested the last two thirds of his mortal century. 
 
FORMULA FOR DYSPEPTICS. 29 
 
 The results of this change were as gratifying as 
 they were surprising. I found myself relieved 
 from the heaviness and torpidity which had op- 
 pressed me. I again experienced the comfortable 
 consciousness of good digestion, and began to glory 
 in the realization of increasing vitality and strenght ; 
 which increase I could feel to be reacting on my 
 spirits and intellect. My hearty breakfast permit- 
 ted but the slightest lunch, if any ; and the even- 
 ing brought an appetite for dinner commensurate 
 with the preparations made for its satisfaction. 
 Faithfully and kindly did the reconciled Stomach, 
 approving the new regime, sustain the reformatory 
 measures which I had instituted in its behalf and 
 my own ; and the ready and uniform flow of its 
 gastric juices attested the fact that I had finally en- 
 tered on a course which Nature was eager to ap- 
 prove and bless, and ready to sustain with all the 
 powers which the mal-practice of the doctors and 
 my own abuses had permitted her to preserve. 
 
 These chief incidents of reform were attended 
 with others which I shall presently describe. But 
 I wish first to formularize my grand lesson in diet- 
 ary science ; — a lesson not new, and one scarcely 
 needed by those who are thoroughly healthful, but 
 which those who do need it, seem most resolved 
 not to learn ; namely, that 
 
 An abundant, generous diet is the one best adapted 
 a feeble digestion. 
 
 — — „„, ^„. 
 
 to a feeble digestion 
 
30 PEACH-PITS AGAIN. 
 
 For the utterance of this dogma, I know I shall 
 incur the anathema? of the Hygeopathic hier- 
 archy ; but I have advanced so far in my dissen- 
 tient career that I can afford to disregard the ful- 
 minations of medical Protestantism as well as those 
 of medical Papacy. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 This seems to me the proper place to conclude 
 what I have to say of the peach-pits which played 
 so important a part in initiating my recovery. I 
 used them as medicine ; and, as medicine, I aban- 
 doned them with the return of health. When the 
 house is repaired, the scaffold is no longer needed, 
 and should be removed. It is now about three 
 and a half years since I first tested their efficacy ; 
 and I continued their habitual use only about a 
 year. Like any other medicine, they should be 
 put aside as soon as the effect is produced. Occa- 
 sionally, to be sure, (such is the tenacity of consti- 
 tutional morbidness and the tyranny of bad old 
 habits) when, from over-indulgence or irregular- 
 ity or neglect, I feel recurring symptoms — for, 
 alas ! though the spirit is willing, the flesh is often 
 very weak — I return to them for a day or so ; but 
 this necessitated return is a penalty for the infringe- 
 ment of hygienic laws which I have expensively 
 learned, but am not wise enough always to obey. 
 
PEACH-PITS AGAIN. 31 
 
 Medicines should not be made a constant neces- 
 sity. While daily habits cannot well be too 
 regular in civilized life, the use of remedies should 
 be rare and exceptional ; and while the former 
 should become as much a part of routine, as sitting 
 when we eat or reclining when we sleep, the latter 
 can be employed with scarcely too much caution or 
 infrequency. 
 
PART THE SECOND. 
 
 I. 
 
 In my narrative, I alluded to certain principles 
 and habits which I deem of hygienic importance. 
 Some of these I desire to consider more at length, 
 offering, with them, the general conclusions of my 
 experience and practice. 
 
 I shall not dwell upon those canons of health 
 with which even our school-children are supposed 
 to be familiar. Everybody, for instance, is expected 
 to know in a general way, that sedentary habits ren- 
 der necessary an especial respect for daily exercise, 
 pure air, and cleanliness. At points like these, I 
 shall do little more than hint ; employing my limited 
 space in suggestions less familiar. 
 
 II. 
 
 In considering the subject of health, as affected 
 by habits, we must first clarify our ideas in regard 
 to its relations with society. Many of our medical 
 reformers cloud the general liberality of their views 
 by an assumption that civilization is its enemy. My 
 
CIVILIZATION THE FRIEND OF HEALTH. 33 
 
 own belief is exactly the reverse. Statistics conclu- 
 sively show that, among nations, the average of life 
 rises with the elevation of the social standard. Of 
 course, each state of society is subject to its peculiar 
 vices, against which civilization is forced to contend ; 
 but these, fearful and disgusting as they appear in 
 contrast with their beautiful surroundings, are im- 
 potent to neutralize the advantages which Chris~ 
 tianity and art are accumulating on our race. 
 
 While, therefore, sedentary habits and passional 
 excesses are powerful auxiliaries of disease, yet 
 cleanliness, regularity, good houses, and abundant 
 food are stronger re enforcements on the side of 
 health. Unquestionably, the digestive organs are 
 great sufferers from the evils of civilization ; and, 
 all other things being equal, health would be much 
 better in a condition of primitive simplicity than 
 when dependent on the complex and artificial sys- 
 tems of enlightened nations. But civilization, if it 
 be true, brings with it remedies for all its especial 
 evils, while it discards all the especial evils of bar- 
 barism, and replaces them with unquestioned bless- 
 ings. It is the sum of beneficent art ; and the aim 
 of its disciples should be, to make life as artistic as 
 possible ; securing every advantage of intelligence, 
 with which to adorn and strengthen those of Nature. 
 No exercise of art can be more legitimate than the 
 improvement and preservation of health, on which 
 life itself depends. An understanding and applica- 
 tion of principles, here, is as important and effica- 
 
34 A GRAVE ERROR EXPOSED. 
 
 cious as though the object were to perfect a ma- 
 chine or carve a statue. 
 
 The Hygeopathists have undertaken to treat the 
 subject of health rationally, and have promulgated 
 many important truths ; but their system is based on 
 error, and fails in its results. They attempt to graft 
 the inferior scion upon a superior stock, and so get 
 a very unsatisfactory fruit. Reverting to the prim- 
 itive status of the race, they ignore the effects and 
 requirements of intellectual advancement. Con- 
 demning the Stomach of a highly organized man, to 
 the coarse regimen of the ox, they infer that the re- 
 sult must be to secure for it the ox's digestion. If 
 such, could be the result, it would also tend to bring 
 down the man's brain to the same bovine coarseness 
 and feebleness. 
 
 No ; the hygienic philosophy which draws its 
 illustrations from peasant life, is of necessity inap- 
 plicable to a class which labors chiefly , with its 
 brain. It is not the coarseness of the bread of the 
 Russian serf which gives him strength ; it is his ex- 
 ercise and his out-door life. Such are the tonics of 
 Nature ; and their use, so far as possible, should be 
 retained in all conditions ; but growth must be pro- 
 moted and waste repaid, also ; and to do these is 
 the office of food. If the growth and waste are 
 mainly muscular, the food may be coarse and the 
 man be strong ; but if they be of the brain and 
 nerves, the food must be correspondingly better, or 
 
THE GOSPEL OF HEALTH. 35 
 
 brain and nerves will fail. And if (as is generally 
 the case where brain-work predominates) plentiful 
 exercise and respiration are neglected, the muscular 
 system and all organs of the body will likewise be- 
 come enfeebled, and general debility will result. 
 
 The fact that physical labor taxes the system less 
 than mental, is partially realized by many. We 
 know that the student needs more sleep than the 
 journeyman blacksmith ; he also needs more nutri- 
 ment. So with the statesman in his closet, the mer- 
 chant in his counting-room, and the clerk at his desk ; 
 neither can endure coarse food or scant sleep as 
 well as the hunter among his hills or the farmer 
 in his fields. The sedentary life, lacking Nature's 
 tonics, impairs the digestion ; and it logically fol- 
 lows that the food should be easier of assimilation. 
 When habits of labor are artificial, we should call 
 on art to remedy their evils. Every theory of 
 dietetic reform must be worthless, whose conclu- 
 sions would lead us down to 'the lower conditions of 
 the race, instead of upward. 
 
 The reverse of such a theory should shape the 
 system of the true reformer. In the progress of 
 civilization, we substitute intellectual for physical 
 pursuits, and should study how to preserve the 
 muscular power unimpaired, while increasing that 
 of the brain. With faith in progress, and admira- 
 tion for art, we should support every advance with 
 confidence, knowing that its consequence must be 
 
36 THE QUALITY OF FOOD. 
 
 an increase of power. Were it otherwise, barba- 
 rism only could endure ; and to civilize a people 
 would be to doom them to extinction. Any rea- 
 soning, no matter what its premises, which leads to 
 conclusions like these, is not only absurd but irre- 
 ligious. 
 
 m. 
 
 The quality of the food we eat becomes a ques- 
 tion of grave import. 
 
 The Hygeopathist will recommend to the dys- 
 peptic a diet of bran-bread, fruits, and the coarser 
 roots and plants. All animal substances he pro- 
 hibits, and looks coldly upon those grains and fruits 
 which are most nutritious and easily digested. The 
 human Stomach, taxed to provide for the waste of 
 a weary brain and over-wrought nerves, he con- 
 demns to the same material which is furnished to 
 that of a horse, which has to supply a demand for 
 muscle alone. 
 
 It is only as you descend in the social scale that 
 such a recommendation approaches reason ; as you 
 rise, it- becomes mischievous. We now know why 
 the Scotch peasant may thrive on his bannock, and 
 the Irishman subsist on potatoes; but a diet so 
 meagre would have sent Humboldt ungarlanded to 
 his grave in middle age. 
 
THE VEGETARIAN FALLACY. 37 
 
 The great argument in favor of a meagre diet is, 
 that it supplies sufficient bulk without excess of 
 nourishment. Thus, it is claimed, is the Stomach 
 filled, and yet relieved of the labor of digesting 
 more nutriment than the system demands. In the 
 latter part of this assumption lies ambushed a most 
 dangerous error ; for the very quality of food thus 
 used to give bulk, is the most difficult of all to di- 
 gest, and imposes upon the feeble Stomach an oner- 
 ous and distasteful duty, while it supplies a nourish- 
 ment totally inadequate to the labor required. In 
 effect, it is an increase of work and a diminution 
 of wages. The direct object of food is to produce 
 blood ; and if innutritious, the blood will be impov- 
 erished, and the digestive powers made to share 
 the enfeeblement of the whole system. In select- 
 ing our food, therefore, we should study the rela- 
 tions of nutriment, waste, and digestibility, so that 
 the blood may be sufficiently enriched without im- 
 posing needless labor on the Stomach ; and in esti- 
 mating these proportions, we must consider the 
 •habits of the individual. Here is a frequent source 
 of error. The Vegetarians do not realize that the 
 man of inactive physical habits, but whose work is 
 with the brain, needs more nutrition than the com- 
 mon laborer, at the same time that his digestion is 
 feebler. And inasmuch as brain is more valuable 
 than muscle, — finer, more critical in every sense, 
 — so must we use costlier food for its nourishment, 
 and apply more skill and care — superior art, in 
 short — in the selection. By supplying a richer 
 
38 KINDS OF FOOD. 
 
 and more digestible regimen, we must at the same 
 time meet the high demands of the mental and 
 nervous systems, and reduce the labor of the weak- 
 ened Stomach. 
 
 I 
 By no means do I reject vegetable foods. On 
 the contrary, I consider them indispensable. Fur- 
 nishing, as they do, every degree of nutrition and 
 digestibility, I do not doubt that a Stomach trained 
 to their use can be kept in perfect health. But 
 habit becomes second nature ; and so long as soci- 
 ety adheres to a mixed diet, no dyspeptic who sits 
 at its tables can profitably discriminate to the utter 
 rejection of meats. 
 
 The hinds of food, within these limits, is a matter 
 of less moment. The appetite, in a healthy person, 
 will usually be a safe guide. When morbid, or 
 pampered by stimulants and aristological enormi- 
 ties, its instincts are less true, and should be assisted 
 by the judgment. Nature, in offering for man's 
 use her immense variety of food, has recognized 
 and provided for the different and varying wants of 
 his system, and given the widest scope for individ- 
 ual selection. Stomachs equally healthy, will dif- 
 ferently relish different foods, and digest them with 
 different degrees of ease. To one, beef may be 
 congenial, to another, mutton ; and it is even pos- 
 sible that some strong and ill-educated organs may 
 develop an affinity for pork, though, for the health 
 of the race, as well as the credit of the individual, 
 
SELECTION OF FOOD. 39 
 
 I should hope that such instances are rare. So, 
 too, some digest fine breads too readily, and re- 
 quire a coarse material on which to exercise their 
 coarser powers. Some are found quite averse to 
 milk ; while others seem incapable of dealing with 
 the crude fibre of the less digestible vegetables. 
 
 But as a rule, the delicate Stomach should be- 
 ware of fats — especially if not entirely sweet. Rich 
 gravies levy a fearful tax on its powers, and rancid 
 oils are absolutely poisonous. Fried dishes, there- 
 fore, should be regarded with general disfavor ; and 
 the use of unwholesome butter, even in cooking, as 
 an abomination. Condiments, as well as tea and 
 coffee and all other stimulants, should be used with 
 sparing rigor, so that, in periods of disability, when 
 Nature seems to need a little awakening, their 
 effect may be the better. 
 
 Thus it would seem that, of all the gifts ten- 
 dered to man for his subsistence, none are to be 
 absolutely rejected, though selection, since it is ab- 
 solutely impossible to use them all, may be made a 
 means of benefit. Each individual is by nature 
 the best judge of his own requirements ; and the 
 sounder common sense and higher skill he brings 
 to aid the choice, the better will it be for himself 
 and for society. 
 
40 QUANTITY OF FOOD. 
 
 IV. 
 
 I have never seen the subject of quantity, in 
 food, treated as seems to befit its importance. It 
 is true that all now concede the necessity of bulk 
 to accomplish the distension of the Stomach when 
 digestion begins ; but the argument is but half 
 made, and often conducted to erroneous conclu- 
 sions. 
 
 Wherever Nature has provided for muscular ac- 
 tion, in a vital organ as well as in a limb, such ac- 
 tion should be encouraged ; otherwise, debility, if 
 not disease, will be sure to result. Disuse the eye, 
 the ear, the arm, and its powers decay. The heart 
 derives a regular exercise in its action on the blood ; 
 the lungs do the same in breathing ; the Stomach 
 should do the same in digestion. A partial failure 
 in either case produces disease ; a total one, death. 
 
 Thus we see the importance of the muscular 
 system of the Stomach. It cannot act with vigor, 
 except that organ is fully distended ; it cannot 
 thoroughly repose, except after complete collapse. 
 In order, therefore, to secure the regular periods 
 of action and repose which the health of the Stom- 
 ach demands, we must provide for it regular periods 
 of fullness and depletion. This important principle 
 lies at the very foundation of good digestion in sed- 
 entary life. 
 
EXERCISE OF TEE STOMACH. 41 
 
 The process should be not only regular, but grad- 
 ual. The empty Stomach should not be rudely 
 awakened and violently distended by the abrupt de- 
 posit of a large quantity of food ; but should be 
 quietly, slowly enlarged by its introduction, till 
 completely filled. This distension liberates the di- 
 gestive fluids which flow forth upon the mass ; and 
 the faithful muscles commence that peristaltic action 
 upon the food which ends only in its complete com- 
 mixture and expulsion. As the organ has been 
 gradually enlarged, so is it contracted in the same 
 manner ; and the labor of the occasion being over, 
 it renews a period of rest only to be terminated by 
 the awakening of hunger or the introduction of 
 fresh food. If the latter — if it shall be required 
 to recommence work before its strength is fully 
 restored — a derangement to some extent ensues ; 
 but if not interfered with until a proper interval 
 has passed, it returns to its task with original vigor, 
 and health is preserved. 
 
 That food should be made fine and thoroughly 
 salivated before being swallowed, all admit ; and 
 this necessity makes the operation of eating, grad- 
 ual, as it should be to meet the muscular re- 
 quirement of the Stomach. And in the simple 
 statements here made, we find a key to the mys- 
 tery of nutrition. Distension and contraction are 
 the chief exercise of the stomach, and must recur 
 regularly and gradually, and to the extreme limit. 
 The food must be made fine before going into the 
 
42 EATING BETWEEN MEALS. 
 
 Stomach ; and an interval of absolute repose must 
 be granted to the digestive organs before asking 
 them to renew- their labors. While in a natural, 
 out-door life, these principles are less necessary to 
 be observed, in an artificial one they are essential. 
 
 This theory of taking food only in quantity, is 
 fatal to the childish practice of eating between 
 meals. Before growth is attained, the periods must 
 be more frequent ; but in adults, there is great dan- 
 ger of their recurring too often. It were more 
 sensible to take our sleep in little snatches, than our 
 food. Unless the Stomach be filled, the expansion 
 is but partial, the digestion imperfect ; and after it 
 is filled, no impertinent interruption should occur. 
 Not till digestion is over, and the organ refreshed 
 by repose, should the process be repeated ; and the 
 Stomach will then be as eager to welcome it, as a 
 fresh horse, liberated from his stall, is anxious for 
 work or frolic. 
 
 To enjoy health, the sedentary man must sternly 
 resist all temptations for infringing this law. Very 
 much of my own improvement, I attribute to an 
 utter abandonment of the habit of eating fruits and 
 lunches and confections, on rail-cars and in other 
 places subject to irregularities. With the return 
 of health, and the disuse of the custom, I find the 
 appetite easily held in check. 
 
 How often the Stomach should be thus exercised 
 
LATE DINNERS. 43 
 
 in the work of digestion, is a question on which 
 people will always differ. Obviously, the less fre- 
 quent the meals, the larger will be the quantity 
 taken at once, the more thorough the distension of 
 the organ, and the longer the interval of repose. 
 The argument strongly favors very full meals, taken 
 at very long intervals. My own judgment approves 
 but two during the day ; breakfast, before our chief 
 labors begin ; dinner, after they close. As for the 
 mid-day lunch, I am compelled to agree with Dr. 
 Dixon in calling it " pernicious." 
 
 This plan too, with the fitness which should al- 
 ways exist between natural requirements and artifi- 
 cial habits, is admirably adapted to the customs of 
 cities. Here, to eat in the middle of the day is, 
 with most, to eat little, or in great haste. Morning 
 and evening are, as they should be, the periods of 
 leisure ; and the great duty of eating should then 
 be performed, when we have time to regard the re- 
 quirements of decency and health. 
 
 Some will object to the late dinner, on the ground 
 that digestion cannot be complete before bed-time, 
 and that the repose of the general system should 
 include that of the involuntary muscles. The first 
 reason I deny, and the second I am not prepared to 
 admit. A Stomach which has had no demands 
 made on it between the hours of seven or eight in 
 the morning and five or six in the evening, will 
 grapple its task with such power that a very few 
 
44 DIGESTION AND SLEEP. 
 
 hours will finish it. But I am not sure about phys- 
 ical rest being unfavorable to digestion. The old 
 adage said to us, " After dinner rest awhile ; " and 
 sleep certainly would not be any worse than severe 
 labor. The Stomach needs a large amount of the 
 blood, while active ; and either physical or mental 
 labor withdraws it to other parts. The chill we 
 sometimes feel after a full meal, shows how Nature 
 works. So, too, the brain should be relieved of the 
 blood during -sleep, and I am not sure that the 
 Stomach is not a good field for the employment of 
 that fluid while the nervous system is at rest. At all 
 events, if digestion shall have been half completed 
 by bed-time, I have no fears of the other half. 
 
 We find a curious illustration of inconsistent 
 practice in our treatment of ourselves and our 
 horses. The organization and diseases of this ani- 
 mal, and the effect on him of artificial habits, are 
 so like our own, as to render our necessities measur- 
 ably the same. But what ostler is so ignorant as 
 to choose to give his horse his heaviest feed on the 
 eve of severe work ? and what intelligent teamster 
 would push his cattle to their speed, immediately 
 after eating their grain ? 
 
 Gentle exercise I believe to aid digestion, by as- 
 sisting the muscular action of the Stomach, while it 
 does not interfere with any process. If associated 
 with pleasant thoughts, the aid will be still greater. 
 This is an additional argument in favor of the late 
 
HOW TO EAT DINNER. 45 
 
 dinner, as the evening is our only reliable time for 
 pleasure and recreation. 
 
 Breakfast may be followed by labor without in- 
 jury, unless it be too severe on the brain, and such 
 as to induce a cramped position of the Stomach. 
 The bodily powers are so strong at that hour, that 
 both digestion and work can proceed together ; 
 more especially as the morning meal is much lighter 
 than the other. But to dispose of the dinner, which 
 is the chief reliance of the system for restoration, 
 we must give the Stomach more advantage. " The 
 dinner," well says Emerson, " is the capital thing." 
 Eaten at five or six o'clock, with the labors of the 
 day over and the mind at rest, with the time un- 
 limited by engagements, so that mastication and 
 salivation may be complete, and accompanied and 
 followed as it should be, by pleasing social influ- 
 ences, it becomes a source of exquisite enjoyment, 
 and an agent of aesthetic, moral, and physical im- 
 provement. 
 
 V. 
 
 As dyspeptics are by no means free from abuses 
 of appetite, I must disclaim any encouragement of 
 over-eating. The Stomach may he filled, without be- 
 ing over-loaded and strained. Temperance is always 
 necessary, and a man may eat too much food as 
 
46 SLOW EATING NECESSARY. 
 
 well as drink too much wine or water, or wear too 
 much clothing, or do too much work. 
 
 B y a natural law, the digestive powers are propor- 
 tioned to the amount of nutrition needed, and not to 
 the quantity of food consumed. To eat more than 
 the supply of waste and strength requires, is per- 
 haps worse than not to eat enough ; as it might be 
 wiser to stint Nature a little, than to require her to 
 over-work. If the process of eating be slow, there 
 will be small danger of serious transgression, unless 
 the eater is under the tyranny of a sensual appetite. 
 
 And here I must dilate a little on the absolute 
 importance of time in the alimentary process. I 
 have stated the reasons which make slow eating 
 necessary ; I want now to insist that these reasons 
 shall be regarded. 
 
 -& 
 
 Civilization, in securing its advantages, is always 
 compelled to make concessions. The Stomach, in 
 every member of society, has acquired a vested 
 right in so much of his time as will give ample leis- 
 ure for the consumption of daily food. This period, 
 with our present habits, seems to be from half to 
 three fourths of an hour for breakfast, and twice as 
 long for dinner. Now, my countrymen are prover- 
 bial for sharp dealing ; and nothing is more com- 
 mon, I regret to say, than efforts on their part to 
 evade this obligation. In the attempt to defraud 
 their Stomachs, however, they cheat themselves as 
 
VARIETY IN FOOD. 47 
 
 well ; for Nature has retained ample security for 
 fulfillment, and never fails to enforce a forfeiture for 
 any evasion of the bond. The full debt, with in- 
 terest compounded, is sure to be collected at the 
 grave, (if not sooner,) which advances to meet the 
 dishonest debtor on his way. 
 
 Sam Slick records of Abernethy, that he was 
 once consulted by a dyspeptic Yankee, who had 
 recently entered some diplomatic position in Lon- 
 don. As soon as the patient had stated this fact, 
 the eccentric physician bade him go his way and 
 get well. The stranger angrily demanded an ex- 
 planation. " Why," said Abernethy, coolly, " your 
 official character will compel you to mingle in good 
 society and eat like a civilized being, and that will 
 cure you." If I cannot vouch for the truth of the 
 story, I can guarantee the soundness of the moral. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Perhaps there is as much virtue in variety in 
 food, as in uniformity. In music, we do not always 
 wish to be confined to that of Mozart or any one 
 master ; or in tragedy, to hear nobody but Booth, 
 unequalled though he may be. And if we would, 
 as we should, make eating a fine art, we seek those 
 principles which Nature has provided for its foun- 
 dation. 
 
48 CHANGE OF DIET. 
 
 We need hinds enough of food, habitually, to 
 give us all the elements of the blood ; and a change 
 outright is often advantageous. We go to the 
 springs, and attribute our improved appetite to the 
 water ; or to the sea-side, and are eloquent on the 
 efficacy of surf-baths and salt air. But sometimes 
 we go into the country, instead, where we find 
 neither Congress-water nor ocean-spray ; and yet 
 we think food never tasted so well before, nor so 
 nourished the system. Now, much credit may be 
 given to the air, and much to the water, and 
 much, also, to the effect of novelty upon the spirits ; 
 but much is also due to the mere change of diet, 
 which is sometimes as much a necessity, as for us 
 occasionally to walk or ride, instead of always sit- 
 ting or standing. 
 
 So, too, it sometimes seems necessary to reverse 
 all our rules. The system falls into a condition 
 where some positive excitement is needed to bring 
 it back to its true tone. For instance, pastry, as 
 commonly composed, I consider a crowning tri- 
 umph of the enemy, and better calculated to exas- 
 perate a critical Stomach and excite a gastric insur- 
 rection, than any other compound which the infer- 
 nal ingenuity of cooks has ever achieved. The 
 pie -crust usually set before us at hotels is absolutely 
 infamous ; and I beg pardon of the stall-keepers at 
 the Fulton Market, for the comparison, when I say 
 that the very scavengers of the wharves can at any 
 time, for a few cents, buy of them a better. And 
 
DISCIPLINING THE STOMACH. 49 
 
 yet, such are the apparent contradictions of Nature, 
 that I have sometimes experienced unquestionable 
 benefit from eating pie-crust. As, occasionally, the 
 muscles need severe tension — as we feel a desire to 
 lift heavy weights, or run races, or take a turn at 
 fisticuffs, or have a match at wrestling — so does 
 the Stomach sometimes seem to need a trial that 
 will test it to the utmost, and awaken the sluggish 
 powers that seem to be sinking into lethargy. So, 
 the simplest diet is not always the best. The 
 Stomach needs occasionally to be treated smartly, 
 and made to exert itself in order to the mainte- 
 nance of its complete integrity. Art has always its 
 contradictions, imitating Nature. The finest effects 
 in painting are often produced by contrasts ; and 
 discords in music are as necessary as concords to 
 its completeness. Chemistry is nothing without 
 its opposites, wherein, after all, its affinities are 
 found ambushed. The principles that govern the 
 animal economy belong to the same great family as 
 the rest. 
 
 My condemnation of bad pastry, however, must 
 not be taken as applying to that which is properly 
 made. There are two species of pie-crust that are 
 infinitely less objectionable than many other articles 
 of common consumption which go unchallenged. 
 Both of them are sweet and light ; the one made 
 very plainly, with few elements of mischief; the 
 other, rich, but delicate and puffy, so that it will 
 afford no great resistance to the action «of the gas- 
 tric juice. But your heavy, dense pastry — espe- 
 
50 THE ACCESSORIES OF DINNER. 
 
 dally if the lard or butter be not entirely sweet 
 is, as I have said, infamous. 
 
 VII. 
 
 I have alluded to the circumstances which should 
 wait upon and dignify the rite of alimentation. 
 This consideration deserves emphasis. To people 
 of sensitive organizations — the class from which 
 Dyspepsia draws its recruits — it is of the utmost 
 consequence that the hours allotted to eating and 
 digestion be complete in all that creates satisfac- 
 tion. Not only should the material meal be irre- 
 proachable, — wholesome in quality, artistic in 
 cookery, and tasteful in service, — but the domestic 
 circle, so far as possible, should be so composed as 
 to promote the highest development of social pleas- 
 ure. All harassing and laborious thoughts should 
 be banished — all displeasing topics avoided in dis- 
 course. The very aspect of the dining-room should 
 inspire cheerfulness ; the lighting, the color of its 
 paint, the pictures on its walls. In these details 
 — not trifling or unworthy — the society of our 
 age is far behind its intellectual advancement ; in 
 some respects we are even inferior to the ancients, 
 who, in spite of their absurd dilletantism in cook- 
 ery, knew how to convert their banqueting-rooms 
 into temples of beauty. No resource was too 
 precious for their embellishment ; painting, statu- 
 
DINNER SHOULD BE A FESTIVAL. 51 
 
 ary and flowers counterfeited the fabled abodes 
 of the gods, while the repast was served by the 
 loveliest of their slaves. Surely, we may receive 
 hints from those kingly races, in whose mythol- 
 ogy modern imagination still finds its best sug- 
 gestions ; whose Fine Arts we still imitate rather 
 than study. 
 
 vin. 
 
 It were a stupid error did I limit the period of 
 dinner to the time spent in its consumption. On 
 the contrary, I would so enlarge it as to embrace 
 the interval of active digestion. The mere eating 
 is but a beginning. The same general provisions 
 which make dinner a ceremonial of partial festivity, 
 should include those hours which follow the des- 
 sert. The labors of the day are supposed to be 
 over ; and the interval before repose should be 
 dedicated to enjoyment. The evening hours should 
 be spent in the interest of the Stomach. Instruc- 
 tion is by no means debarred, where it does not in- 
 volve too much labor ; but I insist that every thing 
 like drudgery shall be thrust aside and made to 
 await its proper place in the routine of the severe 
 day. Books, music, conversation, popular and social 
 amusements, — all are appropriate and approved. 
 Let the Imagination be encouraged ; and above all, 
 the equanimity of the mind fully preserved. Sleep, 
 
52 ATTITUDE. 
 
 when it approaches, should never find the temper 
 inflamed, or the brain excited. 
 
 "We are too much in the habit of yielding our- 
 selves to the mood of the hour ; of surrendering to 
 the impulse of mirth or melancholy which may 
 chance to be upon us. This is weak and demoral- 
 izing. Our humors are much more controllable 
 than we admit ; and dullness, and even Hypochon- 
 dria — the eldest born of Dyspepsia — may be 
 shaken off by persistent and judicious effort. The 
 will is given us for use; and it should be made 
 Grand Marshal of all our organized actions, under 
 the direction of that supreme faculty we call Judg- 
 ment, and made, to conduct our thoughts to agree- 
 able and useful ends. 
 
 IX. 
 
 Another subject, singularly neglected in discus- 
 sing digestion, is attitude. If the Stomach is at all 
 cramped, its powers are proportionately impaired. 
 Women have been taught (though, I fear, to but 
 little purpose) that to compress the waist is to con- 
 tract the lungs and lay a sure foundation for dis- 
 ease. The Stomach also suffers from this compres- 
 sion ; but its action is almost equally impeded by 
 the faulty attitude which we so often assume in sit- 
 ting, or even in standing or sleeping. Nature has 
 
GYMNASTICS. 53 
 
 designed the human form to be erect. We realize 
 the advantage of a prominent chest ; but, to have 
 good digestion, we must develop also a prominent 
 abdomen. In fact, the healthy action of all vital 
 organs seems in some measure dependent on the 
 others ; and Nature ordains an erect attitude as 
 necessary to all. A habit of holding the shoulders 
 well back, insures the prominence of both Stomach 
 and chest. To sit stooping, after meals, is as per- 
 nicious as ungraceful ; and to walk so, is nearly as 
 bad. The habit is not so easy to correct as may 
 be supposed ; especially as our chair-makers seem 
 in league with the venders of dyspeptic bitters. 
 But unless the invalid can insure this reform, I 
 will not warrant him a cure. To enjoy perfect 
 health, the Stomach must not be cramped in any 
 way. 
 
 Connected with this subject, is that of light 
 gymnastic exercise, which is often found to be of 
 the greatest benefit. I have known a sluggish 
 Stomach greatly stimulated by the mere stretching 
 backward as far as possible of the body, a few times 
 in succession, so as thoroughly to excite the ac- 
 tion of its muscles. Dyspeptics often knead the 
 abdomen for the same purpose. Rubbing the skin 
 briskly with the hands, just over the pit of the Stom- 
 
54 
 
 THE WATER-CLOSET. 
 
 ach, often gives relief from sensations of heaviness 
 or headache caused by indigestion ; such manipula- 
 tion stimulates the peristaltic action and relieves the 
 cavity from the air liberated by partial fermentation. 
 Friction, applied to the region of the liver, often 
 has a good effect. Simple as these processes seem, 
 I am persuaded that they often possess more effica- 
 cy than the prescriptions of our physicians ; while 
 it is certain that their effects are at least sure to be 
 innocent. 
 
 XL 
 
 The subject of digestion cannot be dismissed 
 without allusion to another matter of great delicacy, 
 but greater importance. The slightest reflection 
 will show us the necessity of providing the alimen- 
 tary passages with sufficient opportunities of relief 
 from the burden of waste matter rejected by the 
 digestive organs. To fail in this, is to tantalize 
 Nature and invite debility. No contrivance of civ- 
 ilized house-building is more absolutely important 
 than the water-closet. Its use should be as invari- 
 able as the habit of eating, and attended with all 
 the deliberation and composure essential to comfort 
 and success. To this end, no pains should be 
 spared to render it pleasant and even luxurious, so 
 that it may invite, rather than repel, visitation. 
 Light, warmth, and quiet should be insured, and 
 
HIGHER REQUIREMENTS. 55 
 
 hot and cold water ; but it is better to keep it sep- 
 erate from the bath-room, which often interferes 
 with its use. There is no surer test of hygienic 
 education, than a full appreciation of the truth here 
 inculcated. 
 
 XII. 
 
 Physical habits alone, however, will not insure 
 perfect health to persons of delicate organization. 
 So intimate are our mental, moral, and material 
 relations, that all must act harmoniously in order 
 that either may reach its full development. As 
 our civilization rises in character, it must be 
 broadened at the base ; a larger philosophy must 
 be infused into the daily life. It is not enough 
 that our food be unexceptionable, and that it be 
 properly eaten, and the ceremony idealized by in- 
 fluences of genial art and wholesome hospitality. 
 Cheerfulness and contentment should pervade the 
 atmosphere in which we dwell ; and the nervous 
 system should be spared those heavy draughts so 
 often made on it by our terrible American habits 
 of over-work and artificial excitement. The pas- 
 sions should be controlled equally with the appe- 
 tites ; and recreation and culture steadily alternate 
 with labor. A perfect life, could it be attained, 
 would necessitate a division of the day, the week, 
 and the year into periods of labor, recreation, and 
 
56 ESTHETIC HYGIENE. 
 
 rest ; and if the latter two were faithfully em- 
 ployed, the productive results of the first would be 
 found greatly richer in the end, owing to the supe- 
 rior energy and mental clearness brought to their 
 achievement. Five hours of the twenty-four, spent 
 in hard work — close, tenacious application, such 
 as a well-recuperated system, full of fresh vitality, 
 makes easy — would be more effective than fifteen, 
 performed by a nervous, dispirited, confused dys- 
 peptic ; and the happy influences of the former 
 habits upon longevity, could not fail greatly to ex- 
 tend the era of performance, as well as that of 
 pleasure. It is a monstrous fallacy, which I can- 
 not refrain from again exposing, to suppose civiliza- 
 tion incompatible with health and long life. A 
 natural philosophy teaches the reverse ; but it 
 compels the construction of our habits upon princi- 
 ples of high art. These, fashioned into a system, 
 should make that system as admirable as a fine 
 poem ; complete and perfect in its proportions, like 
 an inspired temple. We may not think like New- 
 ton, and live like savages. "When we forsake the 
 life of muscular exercise, and exchange the fresh 
 morning air of the hill-side for a place at a desk 
 and the cramped respiration of city vapors, we must 
 adopt the corresponding habits ordained for our new 
 estate. The truer the civilization, the higher will 
 be the culture, the more symmetrical the life ; and, 
 as a consequence, the more wonderful and the 
 more satisfactory will be all the results. While the 
 Imagination throws its lights over the commonest 
 
SOCIAL INTERCOURSE. 57 
 
 events, softening their harsh angles into lines of 
 beauty, and finding ever-increasing power for dis- 
 tant flights, the Reason will be developed into the 
 proportions of an athlete, and conquer new realms 
 of reality never before invaded. Pleasure should 
 be perpetual ; and life should lengthen and broaden 
 for the multiplication of our beneficent triumphs. 
 
 Thus impressed, I have come to realize that, to 
 the dyspeptic especially, society and relaxation are 
 as necessary as temperance and exercise. I, who 
 have sacrificed very liberally on the altar of a false 
 utility, have been made, almost as by an inspira- 
 tion, to feel that such offerings cannot escape the 
 punishment of idolatry. If a man will be thorough- 
 ly well, he must preserve the health of all his func- 
 tions. To this end, no care can be too great. 
 Hours spent each day in literary and artistic stud- 
 ies, or in rambles in fields and woods ; evenings 
 devoted to social and affectional enjoyments ; whole 
 weeks in summer passed in recreative travel, the 
 mind getting stout as well as the body, and the 
 nerves new toned ; — all these are wise expendi- 
 tures, — nay, absolute economies, — saving immeas- 
 urably more than the cost they seem to have 
 entailed. 
 
 Nor can these pleasures be complete without free 
 social intercourse between the sexes. This is as 
 absolutely ordained by Nature as are the movements 
 of the planets in their appropriate spheres. Men 
 and women are destined to create mutual society. 
 
58 MUTUAL INFLUENCE OF THE SEXES. 
 
 The family circle, where the sexes are impartially 
 mingled, gives us the model. Here we find the 
 highest and purest form of human association ; but 
 let us not commit the error of believing that it can 
 fill the place of others equally ordained and equally 
 indispensable, in a complete society. The human 
 constitution demands variety ; and society is the 
 great garden where variety blooms with perennial 
 freshness. The torpid and sluggish temperament 
 of the dyspeptic, especially demands a pleasurable 
 excitement sufficient to induce oblivion of his disa- 
 bilities, and to give an impetus to the slow currrent 
 of his blood, and enliven the sleepy action of his 
 liver. Sometimes he may find this in the company 
 of his own sex ; but he is a thousand times more 
 likely to do so in that of the other. He mingles 
 enough among men, perforce, in the transaction of 
 business. Let him improve the lesson instinctively 
 learned from Nature ; and, always cherishing his 
 domestic relations and preserving a due respect 
 for public opinion, never hesitate to cultivate fe- 
 male friendships, as among the blessings which 
 have been apportioned to his lot. If his ride in the 
 Park, or his ramble by the sea-side, can be made 
 sweeter and healthier by feminine influences, I 
 count it a sin and a shame to reject them. If such 
 companionship enhance the pleasures derived from 
 his evening at the opera or at Wallack's, I hold him 
 to be a simpleton if he make no effort to secure it. 
 Men and women are chiefest among the good things 
 provided by Providence for the delectation and de- 
 
CONCLUSION. 59 
 
 velopment of each other ; and mutual neglect 
 demonstrates not only mutual folly, but irreverence 
 of their divine Author. Let none make any pre- 
 tense of misunderstanding me ; for I write, not in 
 the interest of passion, but of philosophy ; and, to 
 enjoy its fruits, lust must be as far removed from 
 our motives, as jealousy, which I regard as one of 
 the meanest and most selfish of passions, degrading 
 both subject and object, and demoralizing the liver 
 far beyond the line of respectable health. 
 
 Of course, in these pages, I but follow the cus- 
 tom in using the masculine pronoun for conven- 
 ience ; yet I place the sexes on the same plane, and 
 design to address my suggestions equally to both. 
 My subject interests both alike ; and, of the two, 
 it is more important that the life of the female be 
 perfect, than that of her hardier mate. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 I have lingered over my little work, which, brief 
 as it is, has far outgrown the tiny ideal which rose 
 before me when I begun it. That my simple 
 experiences have been productive of good to my- 
 self, I know ; and I would fain hope that their 
 recital, and the conclusions I have drawn, may 
 benefit the reader in whose way my venturesome 
 Egotism may fall. Its paragraphs are the work of 
 
60 CONCLUSION. 
 
 occasional, disconnected hours, separated by long, 
 inevitable intervals ; — which have served, how- 
 ever, to confirm my faith in my own opinions, and 
 which were always haunted by a desire to resume 
 a lesson which I felt to be full of use. It is now 
 ended. 
 
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