in the comparative degree of stimulus they impart to the organs through which they pass, and in the proportion of vital energy they require for their assimilation. Were the degree of excitement which attends the digestion of a meal commensurate with the labor imposed upon the organs which perform it, less irritation and heat would attend the digestion of animal than of vegetable food; for, in the one case, the aliment already possesses a composition analogous to that of the structure which it is designed to supply, and requires little more than division and depuration; whereas, in the other, a complicated series of decompositions and recompositions must be effected before the matter can be animalised, or assimilated to the body. But the digestive fever, if we may be allowed the use of that expression, and the complexity of the alimentary changes, would appear, in every case, to bear an inverse relation to each other. This must depend upon the fact of animal food affording a more highly animalised chyle, or a greater proportion of that principle which is essentially nutritive, as well as upon the immediate stimulus which the alimentary nerves receive from its contact. In hot countries therefore, or during the heats of summer, we are instinctively led to prefer vegetable food; and we accordingly find that the inhabitants of tropical climates select a diet of this description: the Brahmins in India, and the people of the Canary Islands, Brasils, &c., live almost entirely on herbage, grains, and roots, while those of the north use little besides animal food. On account of the superior nutritive power of animal matter, it is equally evident that the degree of bodily exertion, or exercise, sustained by an individual should not be overlooked in an attempt to adjust the proportion in which animal and vegetable food should be mixed. Persons of sedentary habits are oppressed, and ultimately become diseased, from the excess of nutriment which a full diet of animal food will occasion; such a condition, by some process not understood, is best corrected by acescent vegetables. It is well known that artizans and laborers, in the confined manufactories of large towns, suffer prodigiously in their health whenever a failure occurs in the crops of common fruits; this fact was remarkably striking in the years 1804 and 1805. Young children and growing youths generally thrive upon a generous diet of animal food; the excess of nutritive matter is consumed in the development of the body, and, if properly digested, imparts strength without repletion. Adults and old persons comparatively require but a small proportion of aliment, unless the nutritive movement be accelerated by violent exercise and hard labor.

Those who advocate the exclusive value of animal food, and deny the utility of its admixture with vegetable matter, adduce in proof of their system the rude health and Herculean strength of our hardy ancestors. The British aborigines, when first visited by the Romans, certainly do not appear to have been conversant with the cultivation of the ground, and according to the early writers, Cæsar, Strabo, Diodorus, Siculus, and others, their principal subsistence was on

flesh and milk; but, before any valid conclusion can be deduced from this circumstance, the habits of the people must be compared with those of their descendants. The history of later times will furnish us with a satisfactory answer to those who deny the necessity of vegetable aliment We learn from the London bills, that scurvy raged to such an excess in the seventeenth century as to have occasioned a very great mortality: at this period the art of gardening had not long been introduced. It appears that the most common articles of the kitchen garden, such as cabbages, were not cultivated in England until the reign of Catharine of Arragon; indeed, we are told that this queen could not procure a salad until a gardener was sent for from the Netherlands to raise it. Since the change thus happily introduced into our diet, the ravages of the scurvy are unknown. It follows, then, that in our climate a diet of animal food cannot, with safety, be exclusively employed. It is too highly stimulant; the springs of life are urged on too fast; and disease necessarily follows. There may, nevertheless, exist certain states of the system which require such a preternatural stimulus; and the physician may, therefore, confine his patient to an animal regimen with as much propriety as he would prescribe opium, or any other remedy. By a parity of reasoning, the exclusive use of vegetable food may be shown to be inconsistent with the acknowledged principles of dietetics, and to be incapable of conveying a nourishment sufficiently stimulating for the active exertions which belong to our present civilised condition. At the same time it must be allowed, that an adherence to vegetable diet is usually productive of far less evil than that which follows the use of an exclusively animal regimen.'

Dr. Paris quotes some curious experiments made by M. Majendie to ascertain the relative quantities of azote (nitrogen) yielded by animal and vegetable food. He took a small dog of three years old, fat, and in good health, and put it to feed upon sugar alone, and gave it distilled water to drink it had as much as it chose of both. It appeared very well in this way of living for the first seven or eight days; it was brisk, active, ate eagerly, and drank in its usual manner. It began to get thin in the second week, although its appetite continued good, and it took about six or eight ounces of sugar in twenty-four hours. Its alvine excretions were neither frequent nor copious; that of the urine was very abundant. In the third week its leanness increased, its strength diminished, the animal lost its liveliness, and its appetite declined. At this period there was developed upon one eye, and then on the other, a small ulceration on the centre of the transparent cornea; it increased very quickly, and in a few days it was more than a line in diameter; its depth increased in the same proportion; the cornea was very soon entirely perforated, and the humors of the eye ran out. This singular phenomenon was accompanied with an abundant secretion of the glands of the eyelids. It, however, became weaker and weaker, and lost its strength; and, though the animal ate from three to four ounces of sugar per day, it became so weak that it could neither chew nor

swallow; for the same reason every other motion was impossible. It expired the thirty-second day of the experiment. M. Majendie opened the animal with every suitable precaution. He found a total want of fat; the muscles were reduced more than five-sixths of their ordinary size; the stomach and intestines were also much diminished in volume, and strongly contracted. The gall and urinary bladders were distended by their proper fluids, which M. Chevreul was called upon to examine. That distinguished chemist found in them nearly all the characters which belong to the urine and bile of herbivorous animals; that is, that the urine, instead of being acid, as it is in carnivorous animals, was sensibly alkaline, and did not present any trace of uric acid, nor of phosphate. The bile contained a considerable portion of picromel; a character considered as peculiar to the bile of the ox, and, in general, to that of herbivorous animals. The excrements were also examined by M. Chevreul, and were found to contain very little azote, whereas they usually furnish a considerable quantity.

'M. Majendie considered that such results required to be verified by new experiments: he accordingly repeated them on other dogs, but always with the same conclusions. He therefore considered it proved, that sugar, by itself, is incapable of supporting dogs. This want of the nutritive quality, however, might possibly be peculiar to sugar: he therefore proceeded to enquire, whether other substances, non-azotised, but generally considered as nutritive, would be attended with the same consequences. He fed two dogs with olive oil and distilled water, upon which they appeared to live well for about fifteen days: but they afterwards underwent the same series of accidents, and died on the thirty-sixth day of the experiment. In these cases, however, the ulceration of the cornea did not occur.'

The result of these experiments, in M. Majendie's opinion, was, that the azote of the organs is produced by the food, and consequently that no substance which does not contain this principle can support life. Dr. Paris distributes what he calls the Nutrientia, into the following

classes.

Class I. Fibrinous Aliments.-Comprehending the flesh and blood of various animals, especially such as have arrived at puberty: venison, beef, mutton, hare.

Class II. Albuminous.-Eggs; certain animal

matter.

Class III. Gelatinous Aliments. The flesh of young animals: veal, chickens, calf's foot, certain fishes.

Class IV. Fatty and Oily Aliments.—Animal fats, oils, and butter; cocoa, &c.; ducks, pork, geese, eels, &c.

Class V. Caseous Aliments.-The different kinds of milk, cheese, &c.

Class VI. Farinaceous Aliments. Wheat, barley, oats, rice, rye, potatoe; sago, arrowroot, &c.

Class VII. Mucilaginous Aliments.-Carrots, turnips, asparagus, cabbage, &c.

Class VIII. Sweet Aliments-The different kinds of sugar, figs, dates, &c.; carrots.

Class IX. Acidulous Aliments.-Oranges, apples, and other acescent fruits.

To these we may add condiments; such as salt, the varieties of pepper, mustard, horseradish, vinegar, &c.

In classing the different species of potations, we may, in like manner, be governed by the chemical composition which distinguishes them. They may be arranged under four divisions, viz. Class I. Water.-Spring, river, well water, &c. Class II. The Juices and Infusions of Vegetables and Animals.—Whey, tea, coffee, &c. Class III. Fermented Liquors.—Wine, beer, &c.

Class IV. The Alcoholic Liquors, or Spirits.Alcohol, brandy, rum, &c.

By cookery,' he says, 'alimentary substances undergo a twofold change; their principles are chemically modified, and their textures mechanically changed. The extent and nature, however, of these changes, will greatly depend upon the manner in which heat has been applied to them; and if we enquire into the culinary history of different countries, we shall: trace its connexion with the fuel most accessible to them. This fact readily explains the prevalence of the peculiar species of cookery which distinguishes the French table, and which has no reference, as some have imagined, to the dietetic theory, or superior refinement, of the inhabitants.'

By boiling, according to this author, 'the principles not properly soluble are rendered softer, more pulpy, and, consequently, easier of digestion; but the meat, at the same time, is deprived of some of its nutritive properties by the removal of a portion of its soluble constituents: the albumen and gelatin are also acted upon; the former being solidified, and the latter converted into a gelatinous substance. If, therefore, our meat be boiled too long or too fast, we shall obtain, where the albumen predominates, as in beef, a hard and indigestible mass, like an overboiled egg; or, where the gelatin predominates, as in young meats, such as veal, a gelatinous substance equally injurious to the digestive organs. Young and viscid food, therefore, as veal, chickens, &c., are more wholesome when roasted than when boiled, and are easier digested. Dr. Prout has very justly remarked, that the boiling temperature is too high for a great many of the processes of cooking, and that a lower temperature and a greater time, or a species of infusion, are better adapted for most of them. This is notorious with substances intended to be stewed, which, even in cookery books, are directed to be boiled slowly (that is, not at all), and for a considerable time. The ignorance and prejudice existing on these points is very great, and combated with difficulty; yet, when we take into account their importance, and how intimately they are connected with health, they will be found to deserve no small share of our attention. The loss occasioned by boiling partly depends upon the melting of the fat, but chiefly from the solution of the gelatine and osmazone: mutton generally loses about cne-fifth, and beef about one-fourth, of its original weight. Boiling is particularly applicable to vegetables, rendering them more soluble in the stomach, and

depriving them of a considerable quantity of air, so injurious to weak stomachs. But, even in this case, the operation may be carried to an injurious extent; thus, potatoes are frequently boiled to the state of a dry, insipid powder, instead of being preserved in that state in which the parts of which they are composed are rendered soft and gelatinous, so as to retain their shape, yet be very easily separated. On the other hand, the cabbage tribe, and carrots, are frequently not boiled long enough, in which state they are highly indigestible. In conducting this process, it is necessary to pay some attention to the quality of the water employed; thus, mutton boiled in hard water is more tender and juicy than when soft water is used; while vegetables, on the contrary, are rendered harder and less digestible when boiled in hard water.

By roasting the fibrine is corrugated, the alhumen coagulated, the fat liquefied, and the water evaporated. As the operation proceeds, the surface becomes first brown, and then scorched; and the tendinous parts are rendered softer and gluey. Care should always be taken that the meat should not be over-done, nor ought it to be under-dressed; for, although in such a state it may contain more nutriment, yet it will be less digestible, on account of the density of its texture. This fact has been satisfactorily proved by the experiments of Spallanzani; and Mr. Hunter observes, that 'boiled, and roasted, and even putrid meat, is easier of digestion than raw.' 'Animal matter loses more by roasting than by boiling it has been stated above, that by this latter process mutton loses one-fifth, and beef one-fourth; but by roasting, these meats lose about one-third of their weight. In roasting, the loss arises from the melting out of the fat, and the evaporating of the water; but the nutritious matter remains condensed in the cooked solid; whereas, in boiling, the gelatine is partly abstracted. Roast are, therefore, more nutritive than boiled meats.'

Frying,' Dr. P. thinks, 'is, perhaps, the most objectionable of all the culinary operations. The heat is applied through the medium of boiling oil, or fat, which is rendered empyreumatic, and therefore extremely liable to disagree with the stomach.

"By the operation of broiling, the sudden browning or hardening of the surface prevents the evaporation of the juices of the meat, which imparts a peculiar tenderness to it. It is the form selected, as the most eligible, by those who seek to invigorate themselves by the art of training.

"The peculiarity of baking depends upon the substance being heated in a confined space, which does not permit the escape of the fumes arising from it; the meat is, therefore, from the retention of its juices, rendered more sapid and tender. But baked meats are not so easily digested, on account of the greater retention of their oils, which are, moreover, in an empyreumatic state. Such dishes accordingly require the stimulus of various condiments to increase the digestive powers of the stomach.'

Condiments and Drinks have not so distinctly received our attention, in the former part of this

work, as the more solid contributions of nature to the food of man. The former are divided by the popular author whom we have already quoted into the saline, the aromatic, and the oily.

'Salt,' he says, 'appears to be a necessary and universal stimulus to animated beings; and its effects upon the vegetable as well as animal kingdom have furnished objects of the most interesting enquiry to the physiologist, the chemist, the physician, and the agriculturist. It appears to be a natural stimulant to the digestive organs of all warm-blooded animals, and that they are instinctively led to immense distances in pursuit of it. This is strikingly exemplified in the avidity with which animals in a wild state seek the salt pans of Africa and America, and in the difficulties they will encounter to reach them : this cannot arise from accident or caprice, but from a powerful instinct, which, beyond control, compels them to seek, at all risks, that which is salubrious. To those who are anxious to gain further information upon this curious subject, I would recommend the perusal of a work entitled Thoughts on the Laws relating to Salt, by Samuel Parkes, Esq., and a small volume by my late lamented friend, Sir Thomas Bernard, on the Case of the Salt Duties, with Proofs and Illustrations. We are all sensible of the effect of salt on the human body; we know how unpalatable fresh meat and vegetables are without it. During the course of my professional practice, I have had frequent opportunities of witnessing the evils which have attended an abstinence from salt. In my examination before a committee of the house of commons in 1818, appointed for the purpose of enquiring into the laws respecting the salt duties, I stated, from my own experience, the bad effects of a diet of unsalted fish, and the injury which the poorer classes, in many districts, sustained in their health from an inability to procure this essential condiment. I had some years ago a gentleman of rank and fortune under my care, for a deranged state of the digestive organs, accompanied with extreme emaciation. I found that, from some cause which he could not explain, he had never eaten any salt with his meals: I enforced the necessity of his taking it in moderate quantities, and the recovery of his digestive powers was soon evinced in the increase of his strength and condition. One of the ill effects produced by an unsalted diet is the generation of worms. Mr. Marshall has published the case of a lady who had a natural antipathy to salt, and was in consequence most dreadfully infested with worms during the whole of her life.-(London Medical and Physical Journal, vol. xxix. No. 231). In Ireland, where, from the bad quality of the food, the lower classes are greatly infested with worms, a draught of salt and water is a popular and efficacious anthelmintic. Lord Somerville, in his Address to the Board of Agriculture, gave an interesting account of the effects of a punishment which formerly existed in Holland. The ancient laws of the country ordained men to be kept on bread alone, unmixed with salt, as the severest punishment that could be inflicted upon them in their moist climate. The effect was horrible; these wretched criminals are said to

have been devoured by worms engendered in their own stomachs.' The wholesomeness and digestibility of our bread are undoubtedly much promoted by the addition of salt which it so universally receives.

'An excess of salt is,' however, we are told, 'as injurious as its moderate application is salutary. This observation applies with as much force to the vegetable as to the animal kingdom; a small proportion, applied as a manure, promotes vegetation in a very remarkable manner; whereas a larger quantity actually destroys it. The experiments of Sir John Pringle have also shown, that a little salt will accelerate putrefaction, and a large quantity prevent it. In explaining the operation of salting meat, and in appreciating the effects of such meat as food, it will be necessary to advert to a chemical fact which has not hitherto attracted the attention which its importance merits. The salt thus combined with the animal fibre ought no longer to be considered as the condiment upon which so much has been said; a chemical combination has taken place, and, although it is difficult to explain the nature of the affinities which have been brought into action, or that of the compound to which they have given origin, it is sufficiently evident that the texture of the fibre is so changed as to be less nutritive, as well as less digestible. If we are called upon to produce any chemical evidence in support of such an assertion, we need only relate the experiment of M. Eller, who found, that if salt and water be boiled in a copper vessel, the solution will contain a notable quantity of that metal; whereas, if, instead of heating a simple solution, the salt be previously mixed with beef, bacon, or fish, the fluid resulting from it will not contain an atom of copper. Does not this prove that the process of salting meat is something more than the mere saturation of the animal fibre with muriate of soda?

Vinegur, in small quantities, is recommended as a grateful and wholesome stimulant; it will often check the chemical fermentation of certain substances in the stomach, and prevent vegetable matter in its raw state from inducing flatulence; but its use requires caution, and in some morbid states of the system it is obviously improper. Fatty and gelatinous substances frequently appear to be rendered more digestible in the stomach by the addition of vinegar, although it is difficult to offer either a chemical or physiological explanation of the fact. The native vegetable acids may also be occasionally substituted: the addition of lemon juice to rich and glutinous soups renders them less liable to disagree with the stomach; and the custom of eating applesauce with pork is, undoubtedly, indebted for its origin to the same cause.

The aromatic condiments comprise the foreign spices, as pepper, Cayenne pepper, cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves, ginger; and the indigenous herbs and roots, such as parsley, thyme, sage, garlick, leek, onion, horse-radish, mustard, &c. The former of these were not intended by nature for the inhabitants of temperate climes: they are heating, and highly stimulant. I am, however, not anxious to give more weight to this objection than it deserves. Man is no longer

the child of nature, nor the passive inhabitant of any particular region: he ranges over every part of the globe, and elicits nourishment from the productions of every climate. It may be therefore necessary that he should accompany the ingestion of foreign aliment with foreign condiment. If we go to the East for tea, there is no reason why we should not go to the West for sugar. The dyspeptic invalid, however, should be cautious in their use; they may afford temporary benefit at the expense of permanent mischief. It has been well said, that the best quality of spices is to stimulate the appetite, and their worst to destroy, by insensible degrees, the tone of the stomach. The intrinsic goodness of meats should always be suspected, when they require spicy seasoning to compensate for their natural want of sapidity. But, mischievous as the abuse of aromatic condiments may be, it is innocent in comparison with the custom of swallowing a quantity of brandy to prevent the upbraiding of our stomachs, or an increased libation of wine to counteract the distress which supervenes a too copious meal-as if drunkenness were an antidote to gluttony.

'Oil and butter, constitute what is called the oleaginous condiments. Melted butter is, perhaps, the most injurious of all the inventions of cookery: oil, when used in extremely small quantities, as a seasoning to salads, appears to prevent their running into fermentation, and consequently obviates flatulency.'

Of the different kinds of water used as drink we are told

'Rain water, when collected in the open fields, is certainly the purest natural water, being produced as it were by a natural distillation. When, however, it is collected near large towns, it derives some impregnation from the smoky and contaminated atmosphere through which it falls; and, if allowed to come in contact with the houses, will be found to contain, calcareous matter; in which case it ought never to be used without being previously boiled and strained. Hippocrates gave this advice; and M. Margraaf, of Berlin, has shown the wisdom of the precaution, by a satisfactory series of experiments.

'Spring water, in addition to the substances detected in rain water, generally contains a small portion of muriate of soda, and frequently other salts: but the larger springs are purer than the smaller ones; and those which occur in primitive countries, and in silicious rocks, or beds of gravel, necessarily contain the least impregnation. An important practical distinction has been founded upon the fact, that the water of some springs dissolves soap, while that of others decomposes and curdles it: the former has been termed soft, the latter hard, water. Soft water is a more powerful solvent of all vegetable matters, and is consequently to be preferred for domestic as well as medicinal purposes The brewer knows well, from experience, how much more readily and copiously soft water will dissolve the extractive matter of his malt; and the housewife does not require to be told, that hard water is incapable of making good tea. Sulphate of lime is the salt which generally imparts the quality of hardness to water; and it has

been said that its presence will sometimes occasion an uneasy sense of weight in a weak stomach. The quantity of this salt varies considerably; but, in general, it appears that the proportion of five grains in a pint of water will constitute hardness, unfit for washing with soap, and for many other purposes of domestic use. Animals appear to be more sensible of the impurities of water than man. Horses, by an instinctive sagacity, always prefer soft water; and when, by necessity or inattention, they are confined to the use of that which is hard, their coats become rough and ill-conditioned, and they are frequently attacked with the gripes. Pigeons are also known to refuse hard, after they have been accustomed to soft water.

'River water. This, being derived from the conflux of numerous springs with rain water, generally possesses considerable purity; that the proportion of its saline contents should be small, is easily explained by the precipitation which must necessarily take place from the union of different solutions: it is, however, liable to hold in suspension particles of earthy matter, which impair its transparency, and sometimes its salubrity. This is particularly the case with the Seine, the Ganges, and the Nile: but as the impurities are, for the most part, only suspended, and not truly dissolved, mere rest or filtration will therefore restore to it its original purity. The chemist, therefore, after such a process, would be unable to distinguish water taken up at London from that procured at Hampton-court. There exists a popular belief, that the water of the Thames is peculiarly adapted for the brewery of porter; it is only necessary to observe, that such water is never used in the London breweries. The vapid taste of river, when compared with spring, water, depends upon the loss of air and carbonic acid, from its long exposure.

'Well water is essentially the same as spring water, being derived from the same source; it is, however, more liable to impurity from its stagnation or slow infiltration: hence our old wells furnish much purer water than those which are more recent, as the soluble particles are gradually washed away. Mr. Dalton observes, that the more any spring is drawn from, the softer the water will become.

Snow water has been supposed to be unwholesome, and in particular to produce bronchocele, from the prevalence of that disease in the Alps; but it does not appear upon what principle its insalubrity can depend. The same strumous affection occurs at Sumatra, where ice and snow are never seen; while, on the contrary, the disease is quite unknown in Chili and Thibet, although the rivers of those countries are supplied by the melting of the snow with which the mountains are covered. The same observations will apply to ice water. The trials of Captain Cook, in his voyage round the world, prove its wholesomeness beyond a doubt: in the high southern latitudes he found a salutary supply of fresh water in the ice of the sea. "This melted ice,' says Sir John Pringle, was not only sweet but soft, and so wholesome as to show the fallacy of human reasoning, unsupported by experiments.' When immediately melted, snow water

contains no air, as it is expelled during the act of freezing, consequently it is remarkably vapid; but it soon recovers the air it had lost, by exposure to the atmosphere.

Lake water is a collection of rain, spring, and river waters, contaminated with various animal and vegetable matter, which from its stagnant nature have undergone putrefaction in it. This objection may be urged with greater force agains the use of water collected in ponds and ditches, and which the inhabitants of some districts are often under the necessity of drinking. I have known an endemic diarrhoea to arise from such a circumstance.

'Marsh water, being the most stagnant, is the most impure of all water, and is generally loaded with decomposing vegetable matter. There can be no doubt, that numerous diseases have sprung up from its use.'

The juices and infusions of vegetable and animal matter,' says Dr. Paris, constitute the second division of drinks. By impregnating water with the soluble parts of toasted bread, it will frequently agree with those stomachs which rebel against the use of the pure fluid. It is thus rendered slightly nutritive, holding a certain portion of gum and starch in solution. Sir A. Carlisle recommends that it should be prepared with hard biscuit, reduced by fire to a coffee color. This drink, he says, being free from yeast, is a most agreeable beverage. Much depends upon the water being at a boiling temperature, and it ought to be drank as soon as it has cooled sufficiently; for, by keeping, it acquires an unpleasant flavor. Infusions of other kinds of bread, in particular of toasted oat-cakes, also dried or toasted oatmeal, have been recommended; but the taste of such infusions would not be palatable to any one who has not been accustomed to oat-bread.

Barley water.-The decoction of barley is a very ancient beverage: it is recommended by Hippocrates, and preferred by him to every other aliment in acute diseases. Barley has the advantage over other grains, in affording less viscid potations. The invention of pearl barley has greatly increased the value of this grain; it is prepared by the removal of its husk or cuticle, and afterwards by being rounded and polished in a mill. These well-known granules consist chiefly of fecula, with portions of mucilage, gluten, and sugar, which water extracts by decoction: but the solution soon passes into the acetous fermentation. The bran of barley contains an acrid resin, and it is to get rid of such an ingredient that it is deprived of its cuticle. The addition of lemon juice and sugar-candy greatly improve the flavor of this drink.

Gruel.-Oats, when freed from their cuticle, are called groats; in which state, as well as when ground into meal, they yield to water, by coction, the fecula they contain, and form a nutritious gruel, which has also the property of being slightly aperient. It should never be kept longer than forty-eight hours, as it becomes acescent after that period. Gruel may be made of a different degree of consistence, according to the object of its potation. If it be used as a demulcent drink, it should be thin; and may be made, as Dr. Kitchener, our culinary censor,