It is settled, then, that to renew our muscles which are
constantly wearing out, we must eat the food containing
the same constituents ; and these we find in meat, milk,
eggs, and the entire gluten of grains, &c., as in wheaten-
grits or oatmeal.
Fat and heat must come to us from the starches and
sugars, in sufficient supply to "put a la3'er of wadding
between muscles and skin, fill out the wrinkles, and keep
one warm." To find out the proportion needed for one's
own individual constitution, is the first work for all of us.
The laborer requires one thing, the growing child an-
other, the man or woman whose labor is purely intel-
lectual another ; and to understand how best to meet
these needs, demands a knowledge to which most of us
have been indiff'erent. If there is excess or lack of any
necessary element, that excess or lack means disease, and
FOOD AND ITS LAWS. 79
for such disease we are wholly responsible. Food is not
the only and the universal elixir of life ; for weak or poor
blood is often an inheritance, and comes to one tainted
by family diseases, or by defects in air or climate in
general. But, even when outward conditions are most
disastrous, perfect food has power to avert or alter their
effects ; and the child who begins hfe burdened with
scrofulous or other diseases, and grows to a pale, weak,
unwholesome j^outh, and either a swift passing into the
next world, or a life here of hopeless invalidism, can,
nine times out of ten, have this course of things stopped
by scientific understanding of what foods are necessary
for such conditions.
I propose to take the life of one who from babyhood up
has been fed on the best food, perfectly prepared, and to
give the tables of such food for different periods in that
life, allowing only such digression as will show the effects
of an opposite course of treatment ; thus showing the re-
lations of food to health, — a more necessary and vital
form of knowledge than any other that the world owns.
80 THE RELATIONS OF FOOD TO HEALTH.
CHAPTER IX.
THE RELATIONS OF POOD TO HEALTH.
WE begin, then, with a typical baby, born of civilized
parents, and living in the midst of the best civili-
zation to be had. Savage or even partially civilized life
could never furnish the type we desire. It is true, as we
have seen, that natural laws, so deeply planted that they
have become instincts, have given to many wild nations a
dietary meeting their absolute needs ; but only civilization
can find the key to these modes, and make past experience
pay tribute to present knowledge. We do not want an
Indian baby, bound and swathed like a little mummy,
hanging from the pole of a wigwam, placidly sucking a
fish's tail, or a bone of boiled dog ; nor an Esquimaux
baby, with its strip of blubber ; nor the Hottentot, with
its rope of jerked beef ; nor the South-sea Islander, with
its half-cocoanut. Nor will we admit the average Irish
bab}^ among the laboring classes in both city and country,
brought to the table at three months old to swallow its
portion of coffee or tea ; nor the small German, whom at
six months I have seen swallowing its little mug of lager
as philosophically as its serious-faced father. That these
babies have fevers and rashes, and a host of diseases
peculiar to that age, is a matter of course ; and equally a
matter of course that the round-eyed mother wonders
Page 39
Presented as published in 1881. Historical recipes may not meet modern food-safety standards. Cook from the modern interpretation, not the original instructions.
AI-modernized reading of the original text
It is settled, then, that to renew our muscles which are constantly wearing out, we must eat the food containing the same constituents ; and these we find in meat, milk, eggs, and the entire gluten of grains, &c., as in wheatengrits or oatmeal.
Fat and heat must come to us from the starches and sugars, in sufficient supply to "put a la3'er of wadding between muscles and skin, fill out the wrinkles, and keep one warm." To find out the proportion needed for one's own individual constitution, is the first work for all of us. The laborer requires one thing, the growing child another, the man or woman whose labor is purely intellectual another ; and to understand how best to meet these needs, demands a knowledge to which most of us have been indiff'erent. If there is excess or lack of any necessary element, that excess or lack means disease, and
for such disease we are wholly responsible. Food is not the only and the universal elixir of life ; for weak or poor blood is often an inheritance, and comes to one tainted by family diseases, or by defects in air or climate in general. But, even when outward conditions are most disastrous, perfect food has power to avert or alter their effects ; and the child who begins hfe burdened with scrofulous or other diseases, and grows to a pale, weak, unwholesome youth, and either a swift passing into the next world, or a life here of hopeless invalidism, can, nine times out of ten, have this course of things stopped by scientific understanding of what foods are necessary for such conditions.
I propose to take the life of one who from babyhood up has been fed on the best food, perfectly prepared, and to give the tables of such food for different periods in that life, allowing only such digression as will show the effects of an opposite course of treatment ; thus showing the relations of food to health, — a more necessary and vital form of knowledge than any other that the world owns.
CHAPTER IX.
WE begin, then, with a typical baby, born of civilized parents, and living in the midst of the best civilization to be had. Savage or even partially civilized life could never furnish the type we desire. It is true, as we have seen, that natural laws, so deeply planted that they have become instincts, have given to many wild nations a dietary meeting their absolute needs ; but only civilization can find the key to these modes, and make past experience pay tribute to present knowledge. We do not want an Indian baby, bound and swathed like a little mummy, hanging from the pole of a wigwam, placidly sucking a fish's tail, or a bone of boiled dog ; nor an Esquimaux baby, with its strip of blubber ; nor the Hottentot, with its rope of jerked beef ; nor the South-sea Islander, with its half-cocoanut. Nor will we admit the average Irish baby among the laboring classes in both city and country, brought to the table at three months old to swallow its portion of coffee or tea ; nor the small German, whom at six months I have seen swallowing its little mug of lager as philosophically as its serious-faced father. That these babies have fevers and rashes, and a host of diseases peculiar to that age, is a matter of course ; and equally a matter of course that the round-eyed mother wonders