Far more serious, however, is the lot of the real drunkard. This belongs to the chapter on nutrition, for it is true, we are sorry to say, that drunkards are produced mostly through want of proper nutriment; and it is always the case that constant intemperance is accompanied by that sickly condition in which the stomach is unable to digest solid food.

In a word, he who has accustomed his stomach to perform digestion only after the use of stimulants, has laid the foundation for drunkenness.

With wealthy people, we know it to be frequently the case, that they take something "strong" in order to promote digestion; but the danger is here less great. For if the rich be convinced of his wrong, even at a late period, he can yet proceed in his reform energetically. He can afford to take liquid, easily digestible food instead of solid. He will eat little meat; but that little very savory and prepared in a manner to be easily digested. He will choose but light vegetables. He will flavor his breakfast with caviare and lemon; and at dinner he will relish rich stewed fruit, by means of which appet.i.te and digestion are increased.

Should he not feel strengthened immediately after dinner, he has sufficient time to wait till his food is transformed into blood. He takes a nap after dinner, and a pleasant walk in the open air, to get an appet.i.te for his well-selected supper.

Now, all these are excellent means to restore the wealthy man's appet.i.te and digestive powers, even if he has gone so far in drinking as to weaken his stomach. It is not _virtue_ and _temperance_ that causes the _less_ number of drunkards among the rich, but the ready _compensation_ they can afford, to cure themselves. And it not unfrequently occurs, that when the rich man loses his fortune, or, in other words, when he becomes poor, he becomes a drunkard. People generally excuse this, saying, "it is from despair;" but the truth is, that now he can no longer afford the costly compensation which previously preserved him from such a fate.

But what will the poor do in such a case more especially the workman?

CHAPTER IX.

THE POOR AND THE LIQUOR.

The poor workman who has accustomed his stomach to perform digestion only through the excitement of a previous stimulant, cannot, even if he knows the miserable condition he is in, abandon this bad habit without almost superhuman efforts.

Working makes him hungry; but his stomach not being able to digest solid food, eating becomes disagreeable to him. His relaxing strength, however, demands support. His vital activity is suppressed; he must have a fresh supply of strength to be able to work and earn his living. To accomplish this, he knows no other means than liquor again! For, unfortunately, experience has taught him that spirits not only stimulate him for the moment and increase his vital activity, but that they can also be to him a kind of subst.i.tute for food.

It was not until quite recently that science told us how and in what manner the use of spirits may actually promote the working power of the starving. It is of the utmost importance to obtain a correct idea of this.

Work promotes evaporation and respiration. Evaporation, however, that is perspiration proper, is nothing but a part of the food we have taken, and which is thus secreted from the body. Precisely the same holds good with the breath we exhale; it consists of carbonic acid, which is likewise formed from the food we have taken. A man in state of rest does not perspire and breathe so much as the man at work; therefore he needs less food. If, on the other hand, a person works without taking food, the perspiration and carbonic acid of the breath are formed from the muscles of his body; for which reason he must greatly decrease, both in strength and volume. We must bear in mind, however, that it is one of the qualities of spirits to be decomposed in the body very easily into water and carbonic acid; the water is then secreted in the form of perspiration; the carbonic acid, by exhalation. Thus, if a man works without food, he becomes reduced immediately, because perspiration and breath are supplied from the flesh of his body; while if he drinks liquor, perspiration and breath are formed from the liquor itself, instead of his body, which thus, partly at least, remains intact.

This is the solution of the great problem, viz., "How can drunkards live a long time on nothing but spirits, and, moreover, how can they work?"

We know it now; liquor furnishes them the material for perspiration and breath; and their body is not nearly so much taxed as would be the case, if they were to take no spirits at all. Since, then, the drunkard cannot eat, and even if he could, would not be nourished, because food pa.s.ses through him undigested, he must needs continue taking spirits even if he works but little. Spirits help him at his work, and save his body from being consumed.

That spirits are no articles of food, has been known long; but it was not known until recently, why spirits can be a subst.i.tute for food, or, more correctly, a kind of _saving of food_.

Unfortunately, liquor is as deplorable as a subst.i.tute as it is fatal as a means of saving. It is only calculated to entirely destroy the doomed man that uses it.

Now, is it not more judicious to understand the reason why the drunkard cannot abstain from spirits, than to endeavor to reform him merely by "prayer" and stories about the "devil in the alcohol?" And is it not of the highest importance to all, that the friends of humanity should take care that the workman has good and healthy food, and that he be always able to earn enough, so as not to be obliged to replace bad food by liquor?

The workman who has nothing but potatoes to eat, is bound to become a drunkard. This food is insufficient to afford him a proper quant.i.ty of carbonic acid for the purpose of breathing; he therefore must draw for this from his body, and, since he must needs work for his living, he takes to spirits to save his body from being consumed. Many an "Apostle of Temperance" would, in a similar situation, act no better. For this reason let us all provide healthy food for the working cla.s.s; intemperance will then greatly diminish.

Owing to the importance of the subject we have spent much time over "Breakfast," and the chapter on "Spirits" connected with the same; but we could not help it; nay, we must ask our readers' pardon for continuing the subject. We propose to touch upon the sad consequences of intemperance, and desire to give the wives of the workmen a hint, by which they may succeed in checking the vice of their husbands and the misfortune of their families.

CHAPTER X.

THE CONSEQUENCES OF INTEMPERANCE AND ITS PREVENTION.

The digestion of the drunkard, as we have seen, is greatly impaired; the process of nutrition entirely changed. There is a change in the tissues of the interior of the body. The inner organs are enc.u.mbered by fat; even under the very skin, layers of fat are formed. It is this that gives the drunkard that bloated appearance, which is very characteristic, and an evidence of the fact that the evil has reached a high stage. The stomach and the heart, the latter now much enlarged, are in an unnatural manner enveloped by fat. The action of the heart, at times immoderately increased, at times fearfully lessened, causes the blood to rush impetuously even to the finest blood-vessels of the skin, and to widen them considerably. Hence the reddened face of the drunkard.

The chest being overburdened with fat, the lungs are unable to expand properly, and cannot therefore feed the blood with a sufficient quant.i.ty of oxygen, which would make the blood red; therefore we notice that the drunkard's blood is of a bluish color; his nose is blue, his lips, and often his whole face, have a bluish hue. His mind is always clouded, the activity of his nerves partly increased, partly weakened; his hands begin to tremble, and become unsteady; soon his very feet refuse to serve. His breath is in the beginning saturated with alcohol, so that it can be smelled; in a little while perspiration, nay the whole body, is imbued with alcohol, and cases have been known in which the body, on coming in contact with fire, began to burn, as a wick dipped in alcohol, inflicting a terrible death upon the unfortunate victim. Many die from apoplexy or paralysis of the brain, in most cases preceded by delirium tremens. When it is considered that all this has its beginning only in this, that the unhappy man has accustomed himself to promote digestion by means of spirits--when this is well considered, no one will find it strange that we wish to discourage from the use of liquor everybody, especially, however, those among the laboring cla.s.ses who work with fire. He who takes proper care of himself will always know how much of spirits he can take and when he must use it; then, and only then, the enjoyment of the article in question cannot be considered a crime.

It is difficult to present to our readers a general rule for temperance, yet we may here state a _principle_, the earnest observance of which we heartily recommend.

There are many people who say: "I can stand a little liquor very well."

They mean by this that a little liquor does not intoxicate them. But this is a dangerous standard to take. Not the possibility of _intoxication_, but the welfare of one's _stomach_ should be consulted.

As long as breakfast can be digested without the use of spirits there is no danger, even if after having eaten fat, bacon, etc., a desire for liquor should be felt; but when a person must needs take spirits after his breakfast in order to be able to digest it, then the danger becomes imminent, and it is high time to consult a physician about this seemingly insignificant circ.u.mstance; it is best to tell him frankly the object of the visit, viz., the desire to avoid the cheap remedy, the liquor. If the physician be the right man he will gladly spend advice and help.

In such cases, however, the housewife can do even more than the doctor.

The attentive housewife will notice the bad condition of her husband's stomach, and if she is judicious and wishes to be the benefactress of her household, she can, by a small sacrifice, easily prevent great misfortune. Above all, she must bear in mind that only a well-fed husband can support her and her children. It is a shame that we often see a housewife treat her husband in this respect worse than a horse.

The owner of a horse knows that his horse cannot render him good service unless he feeds the animal well; why should woman not comprehend that man, her husband and provider, must be properly cared for? Let every good wife bear in mind, that if her husband takes to drinking, it is mostly owing to her own bad and careless management of her kitchen; let her hasten to remedy the evil. Although it may cost her a sacrifice, yet she owes it to herself and her family to provide her husband with a cup of broth, well seasoned with salt and pepper, when his stomach is weakened. At times she may surprise him with a favorite dish for breakfast, which he will eat with a relish. And let her be especially careful not to cause him grief or anger at his return home, but let her rather prepare for him a good savory dinner, for which he then will save all his appet.i.te.

Such and similar insignificant acts of womanly kindness preserve often husband, wife, and children from disgrace; while the dutiful wife earns the esteem and grat.i.tude of her family and of her country. This is a merit which in course of time will be duly rewarded.

CHAPTER XI.

DINNER.

We wish to speak now of dinner, the princ.i.p.al meal of the day. Here, too, we shall take for standard neither the unhappy poor, who must eat what little he can obtain; nor the opulent rich, who finds a pleasure in eating what others cannot obtain. We shall take for base the plain household of the citizen, who takes healthy meals in order to strengthen him for renewed activity.

What may have been the reason for putting the princ.i.p.al meal in the middle of the day?

It was done for the reason that eating, too, is a labor; a labor which requires rest. Now bodily fatigue and appet.i.te constantly keep pace with each other; they manifest themselves in the body in intervals of three or four hours. Since, then, we must rest at noon from the fatigue of the morning's labor, it is best for us to use this time of rest for our dinner; all the more so as the labor of eating ought not to be performed during manual labor. And because just at the middle of the day we rest from our labor and prepare ourselves for the afternoon work, it is natural that we should eat our princ.i.p.al meal at that time.

But this meal needs to be prepared carefully. The housewife is chained to the kitchen, because this meal is distinguished from others princ.i.p.ally in this, that it is usually taken warm.

The question arises in the first place, Why must food be cooked? Is it not more natural to take the food as nature gives it to us? Why does man eat nothing raw except fruit? Why does he take such pains to grind, bake, boil, fry, etc., while the animal can live without all this?

Again, whence does it come, that man is so very dainty in regard to eating and drinking, and that he uses an infinite variety of articles of food, as does no other creature in the world? Are there not animals that live on meat only, and others that live only on plants? Why, then, does man need mixed food, that is, partly meat and partly vegetable food?

To all these questions there is but one answer.

Nature herself has pointed this out to man; and experience, the natural instructor of mankind, has taught man how he can do best what nature wishes him to do.

The human stomach is so const.i.tuted that it can digest but very little of raw food. Just as the nutritive part of the pea is enclosed by a _hull_, so in every organic food the nutritive element proper is contained in a hull, called _cell_. The nutritive element of the potato, for example--the starch--is enclosed in millions of small cells, which are indigestible for our stomach. By means of good magnifying gla.s.ses, these cells, invisible to the naked eye, may be plainly seen. If the potato were eaten raw, these cells, together with the nutritive element in them, would leave the body unchanged. But if the potato is boiled, fried, or baked, the cells, by their expansion from the heat, burst, and thus allow the starch to be free. Now, while animals have been given a digestive apparatus strong enough to dissolve the hardest cells--pigeons, for example, swallow and are able to digest raw pease--man has been endowed with intelligence which enables him to prepare his food artificially.

Cooking, therefore, is as natural to man as the act of chewing; for chewing, the crushing of food with the teeth, on the part of animals that live on plants, is nothing but the tearing asunder of cells.

Animals that have no teeth, birds for example, possess immensely strong powers of digestion. It would be as unnatural for the ox, who has good teeth to crush peas with, to swallow them entire as the pigeon does, as it were unnatural for man to take pease raw while he has the means of cooking them.

We often call _art_ what really is _nature_ in man; for his mental gifts are natural to him; women, therefore, when they perform the art of cooking, practise a natural art.

CHAPTER XII.

NECESSITY FOR VARIETY IN FOOD.