Every Man His Own Doctor / The Cold Water, Tepid Water, and Friction-Cure, as Applicable to Every Disease to Which the Human Frame Is Subject, and Also to the Cure of Disease in Horses and Cattle

by R. T. Claridge

All spices, such as pepper, cloves, cinnamon, and mustard, are to be avoided, on account of their stimulating properties: nature gave these stimulants to the Indians, because their burning sky, by enervating the body, rendered them necessary.

In our climate the air is more compressed, and contains a larger amount of oxygen, which predisposes to inflammatory diseases. “Use,” says Priessnitz, “the seasonings nature has given us, and leave to foreigners theirs: nature has provided for man’s wants; our eatables ought, on that account, to agree with us the better.”

Good household or brown bread is considered better than white bread.

Beer, wine, and alcohols of all kinds, are interdicted, as not assimilating with the food. It is a mistake to suppose that such things assist digestion: they have a totally opposite effect. Every museum of natural history exhibits substances preserved in wine, spirits of wine, or spirits, which would be dissolved in water.

A question arises, if, after having undergone the Water-cure, it is requisite to pursue any particular regimen? To this it may be answered, that those who continue a life of temperance stand a better chance of enjoying health and happiness than those who do not; but abstemiousness does not follow the Water-cure as a matter of course, any more than it does medical treatment. It is, however, necessary to abstain from intemperance for a short time after leaving off the treatment, or serious consequences may ensue.

To those who have passed the meridian of life, whose circulation is languid, who have been accustomed to stimulants, Mr. Priessnitz recommends the occasional use of light wines; and in speaking of wine as an alterative, he admitted that there could be no rule without an exception.

Tea and coffee attack the nerves. In my travels through Ireland, I was shocked at the ravages made upon the weaker sex by tea, the abuse of which has become a besetting sin. Give two or three cups of strong tea to one unaccustomed to it, and its effects will be evident upon the nervous system: in most cases it will deprive the recipient of sleep. I have known a strong man who, to cure headache, drank three or four cups of strong black tea, who, a few hours afterwards, trembled from head to foot. The same often attends the drinking of coffee. Dr. Sir Charles Scudamore, in his work on Hydropathy, states that Liebig, the best living chemical authority, said that coffee impeded the digestion of food for one or two hours, its carbonaceous principle requiring oxygen; and that he looked upon green tea as a poison. Tea and coffee-drinkers declare that neither affect them, and refer to persons who have drank both during a long life, and are, notwithstanding, in health. There are exceptions. The Bacchanalian, in like manner, justifies his revels, and the Turk his opium—but “mark the end!”

Stomachs weakened by the continued use of stimulants revolt at milk, which is the only food of most animals when young, and, as such, contains a large amount of nutriment, which is not the case with tea or coffee. I know a lady, the wife of one of Napoleon’s marshals, who, for some complaint, was prescribed a milk diet. During a period of twenty years she has not taken an ounce of anything in the shape of food, having confined herself entirely to milk. Her health has been invariably good, and, though no longer young, can endure an excursion on foot over the mountains of Switzerland better than any of my female acquaintances. Does not this speak volumes in favour of milk as a diet for children or adults?

At Gräfenberg, patients who cannot drink milk mix it with water until the stomach gains tone; others drink sour milk, and find it agree with them, when common milk would not: this is to be accounted for from the milk having already undergone the first process of fermentation, which process would otherwise have taken place in the stomach. Most new-comers to Gräfenberg have a strong prejudice against sour milk, which, after persevering in taking it for some time, generally ends in their liking it exceedingly. Sour milk, with sugar and strawberries, is delicious. Boiled milk, with bread broken in it, agrees with most people, and makes a nourishing meal. To those with whom milk alone does not agree, cocoa, with plenty of milk, is recommended as wholesome and economical.