I have said that no breakfast was taken by this young man, and no drink used but cold water. The dinner was also without drink, and so was the supper. The first consisted of a very few kinds of coarse food,—generally not more than two or three at once,—such as coarse whole-meal bread, rice, potatoes, apples, etc., and was the principal meal. The supper was a lighter meal, both as respected quantity and quality, and was taken at about six o'clock. No condiments were allowed except salt, and very little of this; and no animal food, or the products of animals, except, occasionally, a little milk. Fruits, either raw or cooked, were frequently among the staples at dinner, but never at supper.

This treatment, with slight variations, would be applicable to most persons suffering with lingering complaints, and to persons in health, as a means of invigorating their systems; but my present purpose is, chiefly, to speak of it as a remedial agency in the particular case of this young man.

I had hoped to be able to effect a cure on him in about a month. But I was happily disappointed in finding him recover so fast that he was dismissed and sent home on the twenty-fifth day. Nor has his consumptive tendency ever again appeared with much severity. Since the spring of 1856—now between two and three years—it has not appeared at all.

This method of cure, by deep breathing, consists simply in using the lungs freely, without overworking them. They may be overworked as well as used too little; though the danger is generally in the latter direction. They are made, most undoubtedly, for a great amount of action, in breathing, conversation, singing, reading, etc.; and yet, in all these respects, they are sadly neglected.

Our ordinary conversation is such as hardly to exercise the lungs at all. We talk with the mouth and throat rather than the lungs. So is it, for the most part, with our singing. And, as for breathing, we only breathe a little way down, even when our dress is such as to form no impediment. Full breathing, except in making violent efforts, is hardly known.


CHAPTER LXXX.

SPIRIT-DOCTORING.

One of the most amusing incidents of my "Forty Years among Pills and Powders," is found at full length of detail in the following chapter. The amusement it affords has, however, a tinge of sadness.