If you should think that I have, in the course of these letters, harped too much upon the subject of diet, I must ask your indulgence. The importance of the topic, I am sure you will admit; but as to my method of treating it, that is another thing. If you consider that I have made a mistake, that I have taken up too much of your time with that which you, perhaps, already understand, I hope you will set it down against me only as a mistake of the head, and not one of the heart, as the theologians say.
THE DRINK.
It has been a serious question with some, whether man is at all naturally a drinking animal.
Whatever may be the truth in regard to this question, we all know that man does drink, and that a good deal, and too often of things which he ought never to take.
It is admitted, however, that if a person subsists wholly or principally on farinaceous food and fruits, and avoids stimulants of every kind, and all other excesses, leading throughout a regular, sober, and temperate life, he will seldom experience the sensation of thirst, and would then, consequently, not naturally drink. True, water is one of the most important of all life agents—one which will keep an animal alive more than twice as long as he could exist without it; and notwithstanding the fact that the living body is composed of nearly nine tenths of this element, still, under the circumstances which I have supposed, we do not wish to drink because our natural thirst is answered by the pure water that is contained in the food and the fruits we use.
This, then, I consider the better plan: live in a manner so healthful, so temperate that you will need little drink of any kind.
But if you do at any time need fluid internally, why not act in accordance with all experience, all good judgment, all reason, and adhere to the one best of all drinks?
See how the fever patient takes to water; how the animal, and the vermin that have been poisoned with arsenic. See, too, the faithful cow, the horse, and the ox, how they satisfy themselves with this best and most abundant of all beverages when the hot sun comes down them.
I wish that you could all have pure, soft water, both to drink and to cook with; but you cannot, and then you must do the best you can. However, if you will leave off all useless, and worse than useless expenses in your living, you can soon make a cistern and a filter which will give you an abundance of the best of water—that from the clouds. A very little expense and trouble will also serve to construct an ice-house, so that you can have luxury and health combined, although I wish you to remember that ice should be used sparingly, especially if you should become very much heated and fatigued.
When I sat down to write this evening, I thought I should say something on the properties and effects of those almost universally-used articles, tea and coffee. This much I do say, however, you who are pregnant—you who are nursing, and, indeed, all and every one, do as I for these twelve years have done, ESCHEW THEM ALTOGETHER. They are pernicious in a great many respects. Besides this, I advise you to get my worthy friend Dr. Alcott’s excellent work on TEA and COFFEE. If you will but read that, I think you will conclude that it is a great deal better to do as I have done.