LESSON IX. THE COMPLAINT OF A STOMACH. CHAMBERS. [The stomach, after having suffered much from the great and unnecessary amount of labor required of it, and from unseasonable meals, stimulating drinks, and want of rest, is supposed to make the following complaint.] 1. BEING allowed for once to speak, I would take the opportunity to set forth how ill, in all respects, we stomachs are used. From the beginning to the end of life, we are either afflicted with too little or too much, or not the right thing, or things which are horribly disagreeable to us; or are otherwise thrown into a state of discomfort. I do not think it proper to take up a moment in bewailing the Too Little, for that is an evil which is never the fault of our masters, but rather the result of their misfortunes; and, indeed, we would sometimes feel as if it were a relief from other kinds of distress, if we were put upon short allowance for a few days. But we conceive ourselves to have matter for serious complaint against mankind in respect of the Too Much, which is always an evil voluntarily incurred. 2. What a pity that in the progress of discovery we can not establish some means of a good understanding between mankind and their stomachs; for really the effects of their non-acquaintance are most vexatious. Human beings seem to be, to this day, completely in the dark as to what they ought to take at any time, and err almost as often from ignorance as from depraved1 appetite. Sometimes, for instance, when we of the inner house are rather weakly, they will send us down an article that we could deal with when only in a state of robust health. Sometimes, when we would require a mild vegetable diet, they will persist in the most stimulating and irritating of viands.2 3. What sputtering we poor stomachs have when mistakes of that kind occur'! What remarks we indulge in, regarding our masters'! "What's this, now`?" will one of us say; "ah, detestable stuff! What a ridiculous fellow that man is'! Will he never learn'? Just the very thing I did not want. If he would only send down a bowl of fresh leek soup, or barley broth, there would be some sense in it:" and so on. If we had only been allowed to give the slightest hint now and then, like faithful servants as we are, from how many miseries might we have saved both our masters and ourselves'! 4. I have been a stomach for about forty years, during all of which time I have endeavored to do my duty faithfully and punctually. My master, however, is so reckless, that I would defy any stomach of ordinary ability and capacity to get along pleasantly with him. The fact is, like almost all other men, he, in his eating and drinking, considers his own pleasure only, and never once reflects on the poor wretch who has to be responsible for the disposal of every thing down stairs. Scarcely on any day does he fail to exceed the strict rule of temperance; nay, there is scarcely a single meal which is altogether what it ought to be. My life is therefore one of continual worry and fret; I am never allowed to rest from morning till night, and have not a moment in the four-andtwenty hours that I can safely call my own. er. 5. My greatest trial takes place in the evening, when my master has dined. If you only saw what a mess this said dinner is-soup, fish, flesh, fowl, ham, rice, potatoes, tablebeer, sherry, tart, pudding, cheese, bread, all mixed up togethI am accustomed to the thing, so don't feel much shocked; but my master himself would faint at the sight. The slave of duty in all circumstances, I call in my friend Gastric Juice, and we set to work with as much good-will as if we had the most agreeable task in the world before us. But, unluckily, my master has an impression very firmly fixed upon him that our business is apt to be vastly promoted by an hour or two's drinking; so he continues at table among his friends, and pours down some bottle and a half of wine, perhaps of various sorts, that bothers Gastric Juice and me to a degree which no one can have any idea of. 6. In fact, this said wine undoes our work almost as fast as we do it, besides blinding and poisoning us poor servants into the bargain. On many occasions I am obliged to give up my task for the time altogether; for while this vīnous3 shower is going on I would defy the most vigorous stomach in the world to make any advance in its business worth speaking of. Sometimes things go to a much greater length than at others; and my master will paralyze1 us in this manner for hours, not always, indeed, with wine, but occasionally with punch, one ingredient of which-the lemon-is particularly odious to us. All this time I can hear him jollifying away at a great rate, drinking healths to his neighbors, and ruining his own. 7. I am a lover of early hours, as are my brethren generally. To this we are very much disposed by the extremely hard work which we usually undergo during the day. About ten o'clock, having, perhaps, at that time got all our labors past, and feeling fatigued and exhausted, we like to sink into repose, not to be again disturbed till next morning at breakfast-time. Well, how it may be with others I can't tell; but so it is, that my master never scruples to rouse me up from my first sleep, and give me charge of an entirely new meal, after I thought I was to be my own master for the night. This is a hardship of the most grievous kind. 8. Only imagine me, after having gathered in my coal, drawn on my night-cap, and gone to bed, called up and made to take charge of a quantity of stuff which I know I shall not be able to get off my hands all night! Such, O mankind, are the woes which befall our tribe in consequence of your occasionally yielding to the temptations of "a little supper." I see turkey and tongue in grief and terror. Macaroni fills me with frantic alarm. I behold jelly and trifle follow in mute despair. O that I had the power of standing beside my master, and holding his unreflecting hand, as he thus prepares for my torment and his own! 9. Here, too, the old mistaken notion about the need of something stimulating besets him, and down comes a deluge of hot spirits and water, that causes me to writhe in agony, and almost sends Gastric Juice off in the sulks to bed. Nor does the infatuated man rest here. If the company be agreeable, one glass follows another, while I am kept standing, as it were, with my sleeves tucked up, ready to begin, but unable to perform a single stroke of work. 10. I feel that the strength which I ought to have at my present time of life has passed from me. I am getting weak, and peevish, and evil-disposed. A comparatively small trouble sits long and sore upon me. Bile, from being my servant, is becoming my master; and a bad one he makes, as all good servants ever do. I see nothing before me but a premature old age of pains and groans, and gripes and grumblings, which will, of course, not last over long; and thus I shall be cut short in my career, when I should have been enjoying life's tranquil evening, without a single vexation of any kind to trouble me. 11. Were I of a revengeful temper, it might be a consolation to think that my master-the cause of all my woes-must suffer and sink with me; but I don't see how this can mend my own case; and, from old acquaintance, I am rather disposed to feel sorry for him, as one who has been more ignorant and imprudent than ill-meaning. In the same spirit let me hope that this true and unaffected account of my case may prove a warning to other persons how they use their stomachs; for, they may depend upon it, whatever injustice they do to us, in their days of health and pride, will be repaid to themselves in the long-run-our friend Madame Nature being a remarkably accurate accountant, who makes no allowance for ignorance or mistakes. 1 DE-PRAV'ED, corrupted; made bad. 2 VI'-ANDS, food; meat dressed. 15 MA¤-A-RŌ'-NI, a kind of dry paste made of wheat flour. 6 TRI-FLE, a dish composed of layers of sweetmeats and cake, with syllabub. LESSON X. CORNARO THE ITALIAN. 1. CORNARO was an Italian, who, by the simplest diet, a quiet mode of life, and an unexampled perseverance in his plan, happily attained to a great age, which richly rewarded him for his self-denial, and gave an instructive lesson to posterity. 2. One can not read the history of the life and abstinence of this veteran of a hundred years, and hear how he praises. that serenity and contentment for which he was indebted to his mode of living, without participating1 in his happiness and his cheerful sensations. 2 3. Till the fortieth year of his age, Cornaro had led a life of dissipation. He had always been subject to colics, pains in the limbs, and frequent attacks of fever. He was so far reduced by the last that his physician assured him he could not live above two months; that all medicine would be useless; and that the only thing which could be recommended for him was a spare diet. 4. Having followed this advice, Cornaro found, after some days, that he was much better; and at the end of a few years his health was not only perfectly re-established, but he became sounder than he had ever been before. He resolved, therefore, to restrain himself more and more, and to use nothing except what was absolutely necessary for his subsistence. 5. For sixty whole years he took no more than twelve ounces of solid food and thirteen ounces of drink daily. He avoided, also, violent heat and cold, as well as all excitement and passion; and by this uniform mode of life he kept not only his body, but his mind also, in such a state of equality that nothing was able to derange them. 6. When at a great age he lost an important lawsuit; and though this disappointment hurried two of his brothers to the grave, he remained perfectly sound and resigned. He was once thrown from a carriage and trodden under the feet of the horses, so that an arm and one of his feet were dislocated,3 but by a still more temperate diet, and without the use of any medicine, he was soon restored to his former condition. 7. But what is most worthy of remark, and proves how dangerous the smallest deviation from long custom may be, is what follows: When he was eighty years of age his friends prevailed upon him to make a little addition to his food, in the belief that his body now required more nourishment. Though well aware that with the general decay of strength the power of digestion decreases also, and that in old age one ought rather to lessen than increase the quantity of nourishment, he gave way to their request, and raised his food to fourteen, and his drink to sixteen ounces. 8. "Scarcely," says he, "had I continued this mode of liv |