CHAPTER XXIV.

OF INDIGESTIONS OCCASIONED BY INEBRIETY, AND OTHER CAUSES, &c.

LIKE a young girl, who suffers herself to be seduced by some gay deceiver, a guest, who suffers from indigestion, is more to be pitied than blamed. In short, those who are unfortunate enough, after having done homage to a respectable meal, to find themselves, before having taken coffee, forced to leave the table, independent of the sorrow they ought to feel, and to experience the accidents, more or less serious, which result from intemperance, or rather from their want of method, in the manner of eating, are much to be pitied. A skilful guest never gets intoxicated, or suffers from indigestion, unless from some accidental cause, and independent of his will, such as a bad habit of body.

Among the means of avoiding indigestion, there is one quite simple; namely, to eat very moderately of some dishes, and to know how to pay proper respect to others, But this prescription has nothing caustic in it. In proposing; it, we assume the air of Doctor Sangrado, in his government of Baratraria. extending his long wand over each dish, which instantly disappears.

Do not imagine, my good readers, that we wish to preach you a sermon on abstinence. On the contrary, this long lesson is intended to always secure you an appetite and to point out to you the means of never losing it; for we do not write for those who, having no appetite, have it no less in their power to satisfy it, but for those who, having always hunger at their command, do not know where to appease it. We shall limit ourselves here to trace out in a summary manner the art of eating well, and of digesting well, whenever an opportunity presents itself.

The means of avoiding indigestion are the result both of theory and practice. The first consist in examining well the nature of the food, and the strength of the stomach destined to receive it. It is in some measure the action of the one, and the reaction of the other, which constitute a good or bad digestion.

Besides, there are antipathies of the stomach, of which no account can be rendered; but you must keep an exact account in order not to expose this useful servant from receiving lodgers with which it cannot agree.

It has been said that a man at forty is either a fool or a physician; the meaning of which is, that the experience that he has acquired up to that time, ought to inform him whether or not the stomach stands in need of a heavy, a tenacious, or a light kind of nourishment—one of an aromatic, a vegetable, or animal nature. There are stomachs which must be ballasted at the same time they are fed; and those honest deputies, sent yearly from Limoges to Paris, to build passages and palaces, will tell you that they prefer rye bread, because it sticks to the ribs.

A young, delicate lady, on the contrary, lives only on wings of poultry, and other dainty morsels; and the reason for this difference of regimen is founded on the different course of their lives, the one rises with the sun, fatigued by continual exercise, devours, at meal-time, which is impatiently expected, a coarse bread, watered by the sweat of his brow, and exhales a part of his digestion by means of the insensible perspiration: the other sleeps till midday, and gets up weary with the very means of rest, and reposes herself from her past state of inaction by a new species of indolence; she neither knows the pleasures of fatigue, nor the delights of hunger; and even digestion itself, every thing, with her, is the result of art.

Do you wish then to prepare your digestion? Take a walk in dry weather, when exercise is indispensable with you; do not fatigue yourself; the fresh air, combined with locomotion will furnish you. with muscular energy, and fortify the whole system, by giving it that oscillatory movement, which mixes and purifies the fluids, invigorates the solids, raises the appetite, and prepares it to be well satisfied. The celebrated Tronchin prescribed to the young noblemen of his day, to scrub their apartment, and more than one incurable indigestion yielded to this active recipe.

Such people have many means of taking exercise; tennis, billiards, riding, fencing, &c.; so have the poor, such as walking, running, dancing, skipping, and those connected with their trade or calling. Why then should not the rich and the poor make a temporary exchange, by which they would reciprocally be benefited? Let the rich man relieve the wants of the poor, who will teach him the value of exercise. Would the former blush, indeed, to dig the earth which supports him, or to cut down and saw the wood that warms him? And if, after having, for his health and amusement, executed a part of the task of the indigent, who would repose himself by his side, pouring out his blessings upon him, if he were not to quit him without slipping a piece of money into his hand; he would soon acknowledge that he sat down to his dinner with that loyal appetite which always results from useful fatigue; at the same time he would be actuated with the pleasing recollection of having done a good action. Such, then, are the only means of avoiding indigestion. We shall now say something on the means of curing this modern bugbear.

Notwithstanding all the preceding precautions, it frequently happens, either from neglecting these rules, particular disposition, antipathy for certain meats, or, indeed, from excesses or the bad quality of the food, the stomach, too much distended, or tormented with cholic or remorse, can no longer react upon itself: a painful sense of oppression succeeds that hilarity which animated the coloured face of a guest who has sufficiently satisfied himself; the fumes of the viands excite nausea; wine itself, by means of which one endeavours to promote digestion, only inspires disgust; vapours arise from the over-heated stomach, and threaten a speedy eruption-- the lava runs; and it is how time to throw water on the flames: but take care how you use tea; this fatal and favourite potion (with the English in particular) sets the nerves on edge, and irritates the whole animal economy. Here it is the remedy yon employ which aggravates the disease.

As regards intoxication, it would be a delicate subject indeed for us to handle, for the very simple reason that few people are really acquainted with its causes, effects, and results, which one is almost always disposed to confound with drunkenness.* If intoxication were to produce no other effect than that of depriving one momentarily of their reason, of exciting a temporary effervescence, and afterward of provoking sleep, the inconvenience would be trifling; but serious accidents are the ordinary consequences of such a state. Not only does it absorb and attack all the intellectual faculties, but it paralyzes the most solid physical qualities. The head becomes heavy, memory flies, the sight is troubled, the legs totter, the hands shake; an internal fire lacerates and devours them; they are incapacitated for any thing; they are plunged, as it were, into the most uncomfortable condition that can be possibly imagined—they are, in short, completely paralyzed both in body and mind: and God knows to what a pitiful plight such a condition may lead to after an excellent dinner, where many amiable ladies may be present, Guests, never get fuddled!

We do not here mean to reprehend those little indulgences granted to the rosy god which, seldom permitted, reanimate the play of the system; but their reaction only suits those vigorous stomachs whose energies are, at least, equal to those of the healthy labourer.

The ancients, who, in affairs of the kitchen, as in those of literature, in gluttony as in sobriety, have left us great examples and useful lessons, thought that the establishment of a vomitorium (or vomitory) entered into the plan of the places where they held their feasts, and it was not considered extraordinary, with this sensual people, to see a guest descend from his triclinium (or bed, where he lay and ate) to lighten his stomach, to gargle his mouth with perfumed water, and resume the sitting ab ovo. For us, cold parodists of these hot governors of nations, we are far from recommending any such culinary refinements.

If indigestion be only felt some hours after a meal, it is then more dangerous, because the work of digestion is stopped. It is in proportion to the advance this process has made, that we ought to decide whether or not an emetic ought to be given. An emetic, injudiciously prescribed here, might be attended with dangerous consequences, as well as a useless convulsion of the whole system. The essential point in this case is to accelerate the mechanical action of the stomach, and nothing adds more to its energy of dissolution than warm water—water alone; for if any other substance be added to this fluid, it loses, by acting upon it, a part of its property. After the first draught, second the dissolving action of the water by means of an aperient clyster, (we hope our readers will pardon the word, for the sake of its utility,) composed of a little common salt and linseed tea. On a little chicken broth, seasoned with cinnamon, and a little orange-flower water, betake yourself to bed; and a renovating sleep may happily close this disagreeable scene, both by the commotion it impresses upon the organism, and by the assumption of weakness and avidity which it leaves upon the unfortunate patient.

The subsequent regimen ought to be regulated by the accident; if, for instance, it has been caused by taking too much fish or game, the patient should abstain from these articles for some time, and he ought to use that kind of food which influences the digestion of the first. It is thus that milk soup is the appropriate digestive of oysters, as a piece of good Gloucester cheese is that of fish, which, en passant, always stands in need, in order to be easily digested, to be associated with some more solid aliment; such, for example, as ham, in order that we may finish the quotation as we began it.

It is very frequently less owing to excess than to the quality of the food, which produces indigestion. One man shall eat ten times as much as another without any inconvenience; and another shall be grievously incommoded for having used a single substance which does not agree with him. It is for a gourmand to study the nature of his stomach, and to see that it be supplied with only homogeneous articles. Milk pottage, hot pastry, &c. which agree pretty generally with women, do not always succeed with robust feeders, who would digest an ox, and probably turn pale at the sight of a little blanc-manger.

But when, by repeated experience, you have a perfect knowledge of the caprices of your stomach, one may then fearlessly give way to the appetite. There is one essential difference between a gourmand and a voracious man. The former chews his food more and better; because the act of mastication is a real pleasure, and the longer the food remains on the palate the greater is the enjoyment. Again, mastication constitutes the first digestion; in this manner the saturated food reaches the gullet, and is fitter to undergo the subsequent processes which ought to assimilate a part of it with our proper substance.

It is necessary then to chew long and well; to divide the compact substances, such as tough meats, pie-crusts &c. by mixing them frequently with good stale bread, to swallow only small mouthfuls, and quaff small draughts.* With these precautions one will rarely be incommoded, even after the largest and most solid dinner.

Moderate exercise (or at least a vertical position after a meal) is a good means of favouring and even of hastening digestion. Nothing can be more contrary to this disposition, than lolling in an arm-chair, and, particularly after dinner, to sit in a bent position, which, by compressing the viscera, must necessarily stop the work of digestion. For this reason, people who are obliged to write after a meal, would do well to stand instead of sit. It is also most essential to favour the heat of the stomach at that time, by securing it from external cold, which, in people of delicate health, is often enough to suspend its functions. A flannel waistcoat, which ought not to be inconsiderately relinquished when it has become habitual, is very beneficial to weak stomachs.

By adopting these precautions, one will be enabled to eat more and longer without any inconvenience—precisely what, above all other things, a gourmand ought to have most at heart; for a disease which requires several days of abstinence is, for him, more than any thing else a truly sorrowful case; it is so much, in fact, taken from his existence; and whose existence is that which can be compared with a gourmand’s? It is, upon earth, a true image of Mahomet’s paradise.

The pleasures of the table, when the stomach is debilitated, should not be so freely indulged in. The gourmand connoisseur will know how to lay a judicious and well-timed embargo on his appetite, by early relinquishing his seat, and not prolonging his banquet beyond the possibility of enjoyment. This, however, is not at all times an easy sacrifice—good old customs are not either soon abolished or restrained—a specimen of which may be gathered from the following lines:—

“As wealth flow’d in, and plenty sprang from peace,

Good humour reign’d, and pleasure found increase.

’Twas usual, then, the banquet to prolong

By music’s charms and some delightful song:

When every youth in pleasing accents strove

To tell the stratagems and cares of love;

How some successful were, how others cross’d;

Then to the sparkling glass would give his toast;

Whose bloom did most in his opinion shine,

To relish both the music and the wine!”

* We hope not to promote this vice, by the information our readers have received relative to the “Imperial Marine Tincture,” which absolutely in the-oo’ftfse of a few minutes, disintoxicates any individual labouring under the excusive influence of spirits.

* King Hardicanute, midst Dane and Saxon stout,

Caroused on nut-brown ale, and din’d on grout;

Which dish its pristine honour still retains,

And when each prince is crown’d, in splendour reigns.

THE ART OF COOKERY