Part 36 (1/2)

”That the alvine evacuations are purely and entirely a secretion, to become an excretion, I have been satisfied for a number of years; and I am glad of this new and striking--I might say incontrovertible--proof that it is so. To be sure, all matters incapable of solution and digestion, pa.s.s off through the alimentary ca.n.a.l, but they are purely accidental. One of the most satisfactory proofs, to my mind, of the fact, has been the discharges from the bowels of a healthy infant. The whole of the milk is so digested that there is no residuary matter to pa.s.s through the ca.n.a.l, and yet the discharges are abundant.”

The case of Mary B. Adams, of Oakham, Ma.s.s., though differing considerably from that of Mr. Robinson, is, nevertheless, remarkable. I have dwelt so long on the preceding case, however, that I must study brevity. What I shall say, was published in the papers of some years since, and is from her own pen.

”In June, 1840, I had an abscess in my throat, accompanied by slow fever, and in the fall, dysentery. In the autumn of the same year, I discontinued the use of animal food.

”In 1842, I had an attack of spinal complaint, which lasted me three months. In the spring of 1843, I had lung fever, followed, for nearly two years, by a cough, and accompanied by a very indifferent appet.i.te. A piece of bread three inches square and one inch thick would serve me for a meal. A hard fit of coughing, however, was sure to follow every meal.

I also became very much emaciated. In the fall of 1844, I took some medicine which removed my cough.

”Through the winter and spring of 1845, I had diarrhoea; and in the last of May, I was suddenly and completely prostrated. I had risen in the morning more unwell than usual, but before flight I was suffering intolerable pain through the kidneys and back; and it was not till the lapse of two weeks that I was able to walk about the house. All this while I was entirely dest.i.tute of an appet.i.te, though my stomach continually craved acids. For six months, I lived almost wholly on fruit. Four good-sized apples a day,[M] was all that I required. My drink was, for the most part, catnip tea. Sometimes I could take sugar and milk in my tea; at others, milk could not be borne. I drank four teacupfuls of it a day.

”While I was at one period expectorating largely, I had custards made from the white of eggs, sweetened with loaf sugar, of which I took three table-spoonfuls, every twenty-four hours. I slept but little--not more than two hours in twenty-four.... My bowels were very costive; I do not suppose there were more than two or three natural evacuations during the whole of the six months I am describing.”

A more particular account of her diet, in 1846, is elsewhere given. It is in the following words: ”During this year I took but little food, and that of the simplest. I lived chiefly on fruit, such as apples, currants, strawberries, gooseberries, and blueberries, and other acid fruits.”

Some years later than this, Miss Adams was still living very simply. ”My food,” she says, ”is raised bread, and b.u.t.ter, apple or pumpkin pie, and fruit in small quant.i.ty. I do not require more than a third as much food as most females. In fact, I can eat but little of any thing. My food, even now, distresses me very much, unless I vomit it. I eat no animal food, and roots of every kind distress me. I drink tea; I cannot drink water; it seems, in swallowing it, more like a solid than a liquid.”

There would be no difficulty in adding largely to the list of cases of dyspepsia which have been cured on the starvation plan; but these must suffice for the present chapter.

FOOTNOTES:

[K] For obvious reasons, I give real names and dates in this chapter.

[L] Even Mr. Graham himself, whom he accidentally met, repeated to him the same caution!

[M] Or other fruits equal to them. The reader must not forget that she had already subsisted five years without animal food, and that what she took of vegetable food was a very small quant.i.ty--little more than was taken by Mr. Robinson.

CHAPTER XCI.

DIETING ON MINCE PIE.

A recent letter from a patient of mine, contains the following statement: ”I met, yesterday, with a poor dyspeptic. He said he felt very bad indeed, and that he had been _dieting_ for a long time. I asked him what his diet had been. He said 'Bread and b.u.t.ter, for the morning meal; beef, etc., for dinner; and nothing at all, for supper, but a piece of mince pie and one or two gla.s.ses of cider.'”

Admitting this to be dieting, it is, at least, such a kind of dieting as will not be likely, very soon, to cure dyspepsia. And yet to hundreds, if not thousands, _dieting_ is little more than an increased attention to what they eat--I mean, from meal to meal. Yet no changes of food, even for the better, will compensate for this increased watchfulness over--I might perhaps say devotion _to_--the stomach. The Philippians, to whom Paul wrote so touchingly, are not the only people in the world whose G.o.d is their abdominal region. Such an anxious attention to the demands of an abnormal appet.i.te, only tends to increase that determination of blood to the stomach, to prevent which all judicious or effective dieting is intended.

Dyspepsia only renders her devotees--her very slaves--the more enslaved.

With such, every attempt to cure the disease by dieting is still stomach wors.h.i.+p. They must have their very medicine taste agreeably and _sit_ well. At all events, they must and will have their minds continually upon it, and must and will be continually inquiring whether they may safely eat this article or that or the other.

It would be almost true to affirm that the fall of man from primeval integrity, consists essentially in dyspepsia, and that every descendant of Adam and Eve is a dyspeptic. The attention of mankind generally, is directed too exclusively as well as too anxiously, to the inquiry, what they shall eat, and what they shall drink. That we must eat, and drink too, is quite obvious--nothing more so. That the Author of nature intended, also, that we should take pleasure in our eating and drinking, is scarcely less so. But does he secure to himself the most pleasure who thinks most about it? Most certainly there is pleasure--_much_ pleasure in the antic.i.p.ation of good. We may, by aid of imagination, then, feast upon the same dish half a dozen times. Yet, does not this--I repeat the idea--tend to determine an increased amount of blood and of nervous energy to the stomach, and to aggravate the disease? Let the reader ponder this question.

My own most deliberate conviction is, that the stomach, in general, is best managed, and the greatest amount of gustatory enjoyment secured, when it is subjected most fully to good habits; that this organ, being blind and deaf, is best served when directed by the wiser head; or, to express the same truth in a better way, instead of asking the stomach at any time what it will have, _we should ask the head what is right_, and follow its directions. If the stomach is pleased, why, very well; if not, let it go without being pleased. Give it what you think is right, all things considered, and think no more about it. If it rebels, give it a smaller quant.i.ty. If it still complains, lessen still more the quant.i.ty, and perhaps diminish the frequency of your meals. There is no danger of starving to death, as every one must be convinced who has read carefully the two preceding chapters. When the system is really in a suffering condition for want of nutriment, then the stomach will be able to receive more, and dispose of it. If you give it what is right for it, there will be no want of appet.i.te--at least, very long. Nay, more; the mere animal or gustatory enjoyment of that food which the head tells us is right, and to which we conscientiously adhere, will, in the end, be far greater than in the case of continual inquiry and anxiety and antic.i.p.ation and agitation about it.

Dyspepsia, I know, has a great variety of causes--as many, almost, as it has forms. And yet I do not believe it can often be induced by other causes alone, as long as the stomach is treated correctly. Give to that organ, habitually, what is exactly right for it, both as regards quality and quant.i.ty, and I do not believe we shall hear any more, in this world, about dyspepsia.

But he who would confine his stomach to food which his head tells him is right, will not surely put mince pie into it. He must know that such a strange compound, however agreeable, will in the end be destructive, not only of health, but of gustatory enjoyment.

The mince pie dyspeptic is just the man for quackery to feed upon. He will keep his nerves in such a state as to render him liable to read about and swallow all the wonderful cures of the day--whether hunger cures, nutrition cures, clairvoyant cures, ”spiritual” cures, or any other cures. Now it is great gain, when we have got beyond all these, when we simply put into our stomachs what is right, and think no more about it, leaving ourselves to the event; and this in sickness and health both.