LATENT HEAT PRODUCES COLD; FREE HEAT, WARMTH.
He who considers how water when heated is transformed into steam, and how this steam has absorbed the whole portion of heat that was necessary to form it, will easily understand, that places where vapor is formed must become cooler. Just as the fire used for cooking purposes cannot heat the stove, so that portion of the sun's heat which changes the water on the surface of the earth into vapor, cannot heat the earth. Hence it follows, that wherever water evaporates, the airturns cool, because the heat, instead of being imparted to the air, is used in forming vapor; this vapor, then, contains the same portion of heat that was necessary to form it; or, scientifically speaking, vapor makes heat latent.
When in summer it is oppressively hot, and a heavy shower comes, it is often more oppressive during the rain than before; butafterthe rain the weather is, as we call it,cooled off.
What is the cause of this? After the rain the surface of the earth is wet, and the moisture begins to evaporate. In other words, the rain-water changes again into vapor. To do this, heat is necessary, and is withdrawn from the air and from the surface of the earth; by this means air and earth becomecool.
It is very agreeable during the summer-time to have the streets of cities sprinkled with water, and it is also veryhealthy, because the evaporation of the sprinkled water renders heat latent, and thus cools off the air.
The reverse, however, may also take place. As the housewife's hand is scalded when the steam changes on her hand into water, that is, as the steam by turning into water again gives up the heat it possessed, just so acts nature. When vapor in the air turns into rain, it gives up that portion of heat which it had held latent, and hence it is, thatbeforea rain or snow-storm the weather turns warmer.
When in winter it suddenly turns a little warm, that is, when the cold suddenly diminishes, we know that it is going to snow. The only reason why it has become warm is this, that in the air above, vapor has changed into snow, thus giving up its heat, the benefit of which we feel. Thus in summer-time, when the sun becomes fiercest, people say "The sun draws water, it will rain." The truth is, that the vapors in the air change into water, and thus give up their heat; people now think the sun has become hotter.
Another consequence of this phenomenon is the fact, that in countries where there is much water, the air in summer is much cooler, because a great deal of water evaporates there, by which means heat is absorbed or made latent. In winter the air in such countries is warmer, because much vapor is changed into water; thus heat becomes free.
It is evident that all this has a great influence upon the weather—an influence that may be calculated even in advance.
To state an example: The positions of Berlin and London are such, that the summer-heat and the winter-cold ought to be equal in both places. But because England is an island in the ocean, that is, surrounded by large masses of water, the evaporation of water is in London much greater; hence the summer there is cooler. For thesame reason rain and fog are much more frequent there, and the winter, consequently, is less severe.
In the course of this work we shall see how similar conditions have very great influence upon whole countries, and therefore often cause, contrary to the rule, cold summers and warm winters.
RULES ABOUT THE WEATHER, AND DISTURBANCES OF THE SAME.
If we cast a glance upon the phenomena of our atmosphere, we find that they are indeed computable, and that the weather in general may be foretold, even for large countries, with some degree of certainty. Nay, there are countries where the weather is not variable at all, but changes at regular periods and according to fixed rules.
In countries near the equator, where the sun's heat is very strong, heat, calm, and dryness prevail during the summer-time. This state of the atmosphere continues uninterruptedly until winter; nor can there be any frost there in winter, because even then the sun's rays fall with but little obliquity upon the surface of the earth. But inasmuch as the sun no longer heats the earth to the same degree, the air ceases to retain the same amount of heat, and as a great deal of cold air is constantly passing in from the poles, the vapor spoken of above is, at that season of the year, changed back into water. Thus, winter there is merely a long, uninterrupted rainy season.
We see that for the warmer countries the rules of temperature are pretty constant and sure; there one is not surprised by irregularities of weather such as occur with us. Summer brings heat, calm, and dryness; winter, east winds, thunder-storms, and continual rain. The rain once ceasing, the sun reappears in a few days, and everything begins to bloom again.
This holds good only for the countries near the equator.The further you go towards the poles, the more varied become summer and winter, the length of day and night, heat and cold, and consequently, also, the condition of the atmosphere and of the weather proper.
A glance upon the map will convince any one, that it is with us that the weather is most changeable. The reasons for this may now be more closely examined. Our country lies nearly half way between the pole and the equator. From our pole we constantly receive a cold wind, the north wind. And above, in the atmosphere, a warm wind, the south wind, goes continually from the equator to the pole. Through the rotation of the earth around its axis from west to east, the north wind becomes an easterly, that is, a northeast wind; and the south wind in the upper atmosphere becomes a westerly, or southwest wind. The former, coming from cold countries, carries no vapor with it; hence, during northeast wind we have clear sky, or sunshine, but without heat. If this wind occurs in winter, it brings us dry frost; in daytime the sun shines splendidly, at night the stars sparkle brilliantly; yet our breath freezes on our lips. The same wind when prevailing in the first days of spring, causes us, in spite of the glaring sun, to feel considerably cold in the shade.
And it is but natural that it should be so.
The wind comes from the north; there ice and snow are just melting, and the sun's heat being employed for this "melting business," the air cannot receive much of it.
This kind of weather would be regular with us; but, as we know already, the heated upper air flows from the equator to the north pole; now we live in the very region where this upper air, in its descent towards the poles, at times touches the surface of the earth, thus causing warm currents of air, which occasionally are followed by cold ones.
Near the equator the cold current of air moves belowand the warm one above; while in our regions, both currents meet near the surface of the earth, struggle with each other, seek to repel one another, rush and roll in all directions over the land, and bring us such varieties of weather as will exasperate all weather prophets, and greatly increase the difficulty of scientific solutions in meteorology.
In the next chapter we shall endeavor to prove that this state of affairs, together with the situation of our country, are the main causes of the changeableness of our weather.
THE CHANGEABLENESS OF THE WEATHER WITH REGARD TO OUR GEOGRAPHICAL POSITION.
We have endeavored to explain why our weather is so uncertain and incomputable. As we have seen, it has its origin in this, that in our regions the warmer equatorial currents of air no longer moveabovethe colder ones, but that they descend here, and pursue their northern course alongside and opposing the colder currents. This often gives rise to a struggle between cold and warm currents. In summer we witness such combats very frequently. The sky is at first bright; the sun sends down his most powerful rays; in the shade we are refreshed by a strong draught, which keeps the sky clear, and free from clouds. Suddenly there comes a calm. Even in the shade the heat now becomes intolerable. The trees stand immovable; no leaflet stirs. The complete calm becomes unendurable, and causes anxiety. "Always a calm before a storm," say the people, and hasten to seek shelter in their houses—and well! for it is not long before a counter wind commences to blow. The weathercock turns round, the dust in the streets is whirled up in eddies, and here and there rises in clouds to the house-tops. Suddenly clouds are seen to form themselves; the trees shake their crowns; the leaves rustle, and before one is aware of it, we have storm, thunder, and violent rain, which cool off the earth.
Whence came this weather; more especially, whence came the calm preceding it, and the whirlwind following?
There were two opposite currents of air, which for a timeavoided each other, but at length met over our heads. Each current at first pressed on the other with equal force, so that they mutually were brought to a stand-still; this we called acalm. But such an equilibrium does not last long, for one current must in the end overcome the other; they whirl through one another, raise the dust in high columns, seize the trees and give them a thorough shaking. The cold current changes the vapor of the warm current into clouds, then into rain. The pouring down rain immediately sets free the heat. At this stage electrical phenomena are witnessed, such as lightnings, claps of thunder, and concussions of the air. And this continues until one current of air has carried the victory over the other; not till then does the weather become quiet again.
Besides these opposing currents of air, which come from the north and south, there are other causes disturbing our weather, viz., the geographical position of our country in regard to the east and west.
A glance on the map reminds us that our continent borders, on the east and west, on that immense waste of water, the ocean. We know now that the air above the water is always saturated with vapors, while the air over the land is comparatively dry. And moist air contains heat, dry air does not; both, however, are continually tending towards equilibrium and wish to exchange temperatures from each other. As our dry air is surrounded on both sides by moist air, it is evident that we must more or less partake of both heat and cold; but it moreover accounts for the happy circumstance that we have much rain; hence our soil is well watered, and this is a blessing to any country.
ABOUT THE DIFFICULTY AND POSSIBILITY OF DETERMINING THE WEATHER.
Having now explained the rules referring to the conditions of our weather, and proved that owing to the geographical position of our country, to determine the weather in advance, is difficult, we wish to examine this difficulty a little more closely in pointing out the wrong direction which has hitherto been pursued in the science of meteorology.
The main difficulty in predicting the weather for any given place consists in this, that a change in the atmosphere need not originate in the place where it occurs. Thus, to-morrow's weather in New York is not a consequence of the condition of the air as it exists there to-day; for the air is continually moving, and, owing to many disturbances, is carried over city and country. We have no sure means of ascertaining whence the wind will come to us to-morrow. All we know is, that from all sides currents of air are moving simultaneously; from the north pole a cold current, from the equator a warm one, from the ocean one saturated with moisture. All these winds are in continual commotion, and have the characteristics of the neighborhood from which they come. If from the state of the weather in New York to-day it were desired to predict the weather there for to morrow, one ought to be able to overlook a space of about a thousand miles around; in other words, it must first be ascertained what is the state of the atmosphere within about a thousand miles of the city. Besides,there should be known the direction of all the winds within this wide space, and their speed, and whether they contain much moisture or little. Not without this information could a calculation be made about the velocity with which a change of the weather would take place in New York; what results the meeting of two or more currents of air might call forth; and what kind of weather this might produce there.
Weather, therefore, for the present state of meteorology, is but a subject of investigation into the existing condition of existing phenomena, and not a subject of prediction of coming phenomena. It is true, there are general rules by which a proximate success in predicting may be obtained. If winter begins mild, or, better, if southwest winds and rain prevail till the middle of January, it is very likely that this will be counterbalanced by a northeast wind in the latter part of the winter. The saying, therefore, is correct, "green Christmas and white Easter;" but this rule is by no means infallible, the counteraction may be accelerated by violent storms, or greatly retarded by mild currents of air.
Not before the time that meteorological stations are established throughout the land, and connected by electric telegraphs—a project which to us may seem immense, but to our children will appear very simple and natural—not before that time will a city like New York, for example, receive timely information about the conditions of the currents of air at all the stations. At each of these places the force of the current, its warmth, moisture, and weight will be accurately ascertained by instruments. Then, and then only, we may calculate what currents will meet and where, and what effects the meeting will have. If this be done on Saturday, the Sunday papers will be enabled to state precisely whether the church-goers must provide themselves with umbrellas or parasols.
But not for Sunday alone will this be of importance. It will be long after their establishment, that such weather-stations, connected by telegraphs, will prove their real efficiency and blessing; and our descendants, perhaps, will wonder how we could live without an institution, which to them will appear as simple and natural as do to us gaslights and railroads, which by our forefathers would have been rejected as idle dreams or works of witchcraft.
THE FALSE WEATHER-PROPHETS.
We wish to speak here a few words about the false methods, that have hitherto been applied to the investigation and foretelling of the weather.
The weather prophecies of the almanac are a disgrace to our advanced age. Those who still print them deserve that their productions should nowhere find sale. We are not of those who expect everything of the magistrates and their orders; but an example should be set to prevent the publishers from dishing up to the people such absurdities.
Some of these wily prophets pretend to read their predictions in the course of the planets. For this purpose, they have divided the planets into two classes, according to their positions in regard to the earth and sun: 1st, those that produce cold, and 2d, those that produce heat. By this means they pretend to prophesy how many degrees of heat or cold there will be every day at sunrise or sunset.
When critically analyzed, these prophecies prove to be theoretically and practically nothing but charlatanry.
It is beyond all doubt that the position of the planets is, to state an example, for Boston the same as for the city of Washington; if there are any heat or cold-producing planets, they would have the same effect at Boston that they would at Washington. But this is not the case. Boston has often cold weather when in Washington it is very warm, andvice versâ. Besides such a heating or coolinginfluence of planets would be perceivable on every spot of the earth alike which again is not warranted by facts. On the contrary it often happens that when cold winds are passing over one part of the country, warm winds are passing over another. It is almost certain that cold winters in Europe always accompany warm winters in America; and again, that cold winters in America usually accompany warm ones in Europe. On a closer examination of the facts in the case, we must conclude that, on the whole, weather-prophets take things very easy. Noting the mean heat of each day, and trusting to their good luck, they prophesy one or two degrees above or below. Now, there is no great risk in doing this, and as a matter of course such prophecies are realized one out of two. But at times, almanacs announce an extraordinary increase of cold or heat for a given day, although the situation of the planets does not change suddenly in one day. Then, their predictions very seldom prove to be correct.
In such cases the almanac-makers know how to manage affairs. The country being very large, they send for information to those places where observations on the weather are made. It is almost certain that somewhere in the land their prophesy has come true. Very likely the cold may have increased extraordinarily in the course of a day at New York, Boston, Chicago, Cincinnati, or St. Louis, etc., afterwards the weather-prophets compare their predictions with the results of observation in the various cities, and publish whatever of them are found to have been true.
HAS THE MOON INFLUENCE UPON THE WEATHER?
The idea that the moon exercises an influence upon the state of the weather is very general, not only with the people, but also among the better educated. What induces them to entertain it, is not real observation of nature, but a belief which is not without a semblance of truth. If, they say, the moon has enough influence upon our waters to produce tides, it must exercise a still greater influence upon the sea of air surrounding us, and hence it must be of the greatest importance to our weather.
This is, however, an illusion. A long time ago it was proved by Laplace, that tides are caused by the great weight of a liquid. If the ocean were filled with mercury instead of water, the tides would reach a formidable height. Tides, then, do exist in the atmosphere, but in comparison much less than in the water, because the air is so much lighter. It happens that we do not live on the surface of the atmosphere, but in the lowest strata of this airy sea; and in these strata, where the weather manifests itself, the effect of the tides in the upper air is so insignificant, that nothing of it has yet been discovered in spite of most diligent barometer observations.
Learned men have had such a respect for this popular belief, that thorough observations and investigations have been made in order to settle the question.
Those investigations were of three kinds:
1st. What influence with regard to heat and cold has the nearness or remoteness of the moon upon our weather?2d. What influence has the same upon rain or dryness in the atmosphere? 3d. Has the change of the moon any bearing upon the variability of our weather?
For the reply to these questions, some naturalists have made use of the minutest observations for a period of nearly forty years; during which time the temperature, pressure, and moisture of the air have been measured daily.
These observations have been scrupulously examined; the conclusion arrived at is, that the moon is not quite without influence upon the state of our atmosphere; but this influence is so very small, that it is not brought to bear at all on meteorology.
When the moon is nearest to the earth, it is certainly a little colder than when she is farther off; but the decrease of heat amounts in the average scarcely to one-fifth of a degree, and this is a quantity entirely imperceptible in our weather. As to rain, it is a little less frequent in the time of the moon's greatest distance from the earth; but this difference, too, is imperceptibly small. In one thousand rain-storms there are four hundred and eighty-eight during the moon's greatest distance, five hundred and twelve during her nearest. As to the pressure of the air, it is during the moon's greater distance somewhat greater than when she is nearer, but this difference is still less than the preceding ones, so much so that a common barometer does not even indicate it.
The most thorough investigations have been made about the influence of the waxing and waning moon upon the weather, because it was on this subject that the greatest illusion prevailed. The result here is likewise, that scarcely any difference exists, and that it is a mere superstition for people to maintain, that when the moon changes, the weather changes also. The change in the moon, moreover, does not take place all of a sudden, but with great regularity from day to day, from minute to minute; whilethe weather, especially with us, changes often very abruptly.
It is therefore certain, that in meteorology one has only to observe the earth and her position with regard to the sun, together with the currents of air and the position of land and water. Other phenomena of the atmosphere may be entirely omitted.
THE RAPID RENEWAL OF THE BLOOD IS AN ADVANTAGE.
Our articles of food are also calledarticles of life, and very properly so; for that which lives in us is, indeed, nothing but food transformed into ourselves.
According to this, it is very easy to determine what a man must eat in order to live; what kind of food can best maintain his health; what constantly renews his working-power; what compensates for the loss he experiences by emission of breath, perspiration, and excretions.
This easy task many have proposed to themselves. They believe they have solved the problem, if they can but prove that all parts of the human body are fed by the blood; and, the constituents of the blood being well known, they believe they have done enough, if they designate that food as the most proper for man which contains the constituent parts of the blood, or which, by digestion, may be changed into blood.
As a general thing this is true; yet it is not sufficient to give the necessary information about the principal articles of our food.
The poor Irishman, who lives almost exclusively on potatoes, has as much blood in his body as the Englishman, whose workmen threaten him with a strike, if they do not earn enough to have a piece of meat and a good glass of beer for breakfast. The Irishman's blood contains quite the same elements that the Englishman's does, and yet their food is very different; and the Irishman is as justly called "poor," as the Englishman is said to be "well fed."
It is evident that the blood alone does not account for this, nor can it do so. There must be other additional items; and these we shall try to learn before we speak of the different articles of food and their worth.
The first principle which we must set up before all others, runs thus: Nutrition does not depend on the blood, but rather on its quick renewal.
The blood resembles the capital which a man possesses. No one can live on his capital without consuming it; he must live on the interest of the capital; he must live by constantly turning the capital over. And so must it be with the blood. The comparison seems so perfect, that we can illustrate our idea best by an example.
Imagine two merchants, each of whom has but a hundred dollars. Both merchants are therefore equally rich in capital. But there is the following difference between them: the one goes to the country twice a week and buys cattle and brings it to market, where he sells it again. By doing this he realizes every time five dollars on his capital. The other establishes a notion-store, buys himself a hundred dollars' worth of goods, which he sells in a month, and thereby gains twenty-five dollars. Now, which of these two fares the better? The notion-dealer, who with his hundred dollars has earned twenty-five dollars, or the cattle-dealer, who gained but five? Most assuredly the cattle-dealer. For while the other has twenty-five dollars to live on, the cattle-dealer has eight times five, or forty dollars. Whence does this come? In a month the notion-dealer turns over his capital but once, while the cattle-dealer turns his eight times.
The same holds good with the Irishman and the Englishman. Both have the same quantity of blood; it is their capital, and the same for both. But the renewal is not the same. The Englishman works vigorously and eats vigorously. When he works, he spends his capital, his blood;by every blow of the hammer particles of his body are wasted; the activity of his body is great and his appetite is great. He invests his capital again and again in rapid succession, and he takes it in just as rapidly and fares well with it. The poor, unhappy Irishman, however, spends his blood but very slowly; he does not work; he eats potatoes, which, taken alone, are bad food; thus, he invests his capital very slowly and takes it in again very slowly; and though the capital is in both cases the same, its slow renewal is the cause of the Irishman's being miserable, dull, and lazy, while the Englishman is sound in body and soul.
Therefore the blood alone is not all, but its rapid consumption and renewal is the most important object.
DIGESTION.
In the preceding article we said that the rapid conversion and waste of the blood is the main point in nutrition. In the examination of food, only such articles ought to be pronounced good and healthy, as are capable ofrapidlyreplacing the blood lost by work and vital activity. It follows from this, that our chemists do not do enough, when they examine the food and determine its worth merely according to its contents; articles of food must be studied also in reference to the rapidity and ease with which they may be converted into blood.
An article that contains little of what the blood needs, but which converts that little rapidly and easily into blood, is much preferable to food which contains many of the constituent parts of the blood, but turns into blood very slowly and with difficulty.
An example will illustrate this better:
It has been proved chemically, that the husks of grain, the pure bran, contain a remarkably large quantity of vegetable albumen and fat; in this particular, bran is richer than even flour, and a distinguished chemist, Millon, in Paris, in 1849, created quite a sensation by his earnest admonition to use bran no longer only to feed cattle, but to use it mixed with flour, as food for man. He calculated minutely and proved irrefutably, that such food must be considered a great advantage, a real blessing.
Although his investigations and computations were correct, it has since been shown that his proposition is false. In his capacity of a chemist he was right; but the stomachhas not as much time and patience as a studious chemist. Notwithstanding bran contains much that the blood can use, yet it is of no avail so long as our digestive apparatus is not organized to perform the change of the bran into bloodrapidlyandeasily. If bran leaves our body undigested, which happens even to the strongest, then it is certainly more judicious to give it to cattle; they can digest it well, grow fat and strong upon it, and give us meat, fat, and milk in return.
There is another truth we must constantly keep in view; it is this: Of two like articles of food, the better and more advantageous one to us is that which is digested, or better, converted into blood, the more easily and quickly.
And there is a third truth, which must not be omitted. Let no one for a moment believe, that a great variety of food is something unimportant and indifferent; on the contrary, investigations have shown that uniform food is hurtful, while a constant change is very beneficial to nutrition and health.
Nor must we neglect, by way of conclusion, to mention a very important item, viz.: that taste comes in for a large share, and that a judicious assortment and seasoning of the food is an essential part of good nutrition. The husband provides for his wife, it is true; but, on the other hand, the good housewife who prepares healthy, tasteful meals, does in truth perform a great service, and contributes more to the working power of her husband, than most of men are aware.
After these few preliminaries, we will speak now of the articles themselves; in doing so, we shall keep within the limits of practical life, though we run the risk of transgressing here and there into the domain of our good housewives, and of meddling with what, according to their idea, is not our business.
COFFEE.
We come now to consider the various articles of food in detail. We shall take for guide neither the luxurious life of the rich, who, on account of his disordered stomach, constantly tickles his palate with dainties; nor the miserable life of the poor, who, on account of his empty stomach, is bound to find everything palatable. We wish rather to take into consideration the food of that class of people in which the husband works hard to support his family; and where the wife is a good housewife, and cares for the health and strength of her husband and children. In other words, we wish to consider the kind of food calledhousehold fare, and speak of the meals as taken every day.
It is customary with most to take coffee in the morning.
Now, what are the qualities of coffee? Is coffee an article of food? Or is it a beverage merely to quench the thirst? Is it a means of warming? Or is it a spice? Medicine? Or perhaps poison?
It is strange that science has not yet reached the truth about these questions.
Coffee has been chemically analyzed, and has been found to contain a peculiar element, caffeine, which has an abundance of nitrogen. It is remarkable also that tea has been found to contain an element called theine, which has the same quantity of nitrogen.
As in some countries tea replaces coffee—this is especially the case in Russia, Holland, England, and America—the great and ingenious naturalist Liebig has cometo the conclusion that it is nitrogen which constitutes the chief value of tea and coffee as articles of food; and as our blood needs nitrogen, in order to be able to form our muscles and flesh, coffee, according to Liebig, must be counted among the articles of food.
In later times this view has been attacked. Although it is true that nitrogen is very abundant in coffee, and that we need nitrogen to form muscles, yet it can never be the nitrogen which incites us to the enjoyment of coffee. It is the berry of the coffee that contains the nitrogen; a part of it escapes during the process of roasting; a great part is thrown away with the coffee-grounds, so that the quantity of nitrogen actually left in the infusion is exceedingly small. Besides, if we enjoy in coffee only the nitrogen, we pay very high for it.
In the United States, annually about two hundred and fifty millions of pounds of coffee are used; the cost is estimated at twenty-five millions of dollars. Since the coffee itself is not consumed, but only the infusion, it follows that about 100,000 pounds of nitrogen are consumed at a cost of 250 millions of dollars, which is a terrible waste, considering that for this money seven times as much nitrogen could be taken, if, instead of coffee, meat were used, which contains also a large quantity of nitrogen.
The natural sciences, therefore, show among their scholars professed enemies of coffee. They are, from a medical as well as economical point of view, decidedly opposed to its use. Some have even gone so far as to declare it poisonous; a naturalist by name of Zobel proved that it contains Prussic acid, one of the deadliest poisons. Fortunately we know that this Prussic acid is rendered ineffectual by the ammoniac which coffee contains, and which is used as an antidote against Prussic acid.
Be this as it may, we have reason to esteem coffee veryhighly. A beverage which has become such a necessity to every nation, is of great importance; and the instinct with which millions and millions of our fellow-men are drawn to its enjoyment, is the best proof that the use of coffee is not hurtful, but advantageous to man; notwithstanding the fact that in some diseases it is forbidden, and that science has not yet succeeded in showing us the real advantage of coffee as a means of food.
COFFEE AS A MEDICINE.
In recent times coffee has been considered, not as an article of food, but partly as a spice and partly as a kind of medicine. Spice it is, inasmuch as it causes, like many other spices, the stomach to secrete an increased quantity of gastric juice. Digestion only takes place when the sides of the stomach secrete a liquid having the quality of digesting food. Owing to this, well-to-do people take after dinner a cup of coffee in order to promote digestion. It is because at night the power of digesting is very much enfeebled—hence the bad sleep after one has eaten something difficult to digest—and because the stomach is relaxed and inactive, that a cup of coffee in the morning refreshes and stimulates the coats of the stomach, and causes there renewed vigor and activity. It is a common observation, that more appetite is felt after coffee than before it. So much for the importance of coffee as a spice. Very justly we ascribe to coffee also a medicinal influence; we consider it a medicine for our mental activity, and for the activity of the nerves.
It is well known that at night coffee dispels fatigue, and that by the use of strong coffee sleep may be banished for a long time. And more; those that are busy mentally, often feel a fresh, invigorating impulse after the enjoyment of coffee; when fatigued with work, they make it a means to recruit their strength. For a similar reason, coffee can animate conversation. When we meet elderly ladies in society, and notice them sitting quietly and talking but inmonosyllables, we need not be surprised; they have had no coffee yet! But when, after a little, conversation flows with full force like a rapid stream of water, we may from this safely recognize the mighty influence of coffee; it has loosened not only the tongues, but more—the looks, the hands, nay, the whole body and the whole soul.
Although the mind has rested during the night, we feel in the morning rather sleepy than otherwise, and hence it is, that we are every morning desirous of stimulating our nervous system with a cup of coffee, preparing, as it were, our mind for the day's work. A modern naturalist, as genial as he is learned, Moleschott, ascribes the lately increased consumption of coffee to the greater degree of mental activity, which life in former times did not require to such a high extent as our present age.
We have now sufficiently explained the need of coffee-drinking, and we must confess that all we have said here does not in the least affect our conviction that, according to Liebig, coffee is also nutritive. And no one can help believing this who has seen how old people can subsist on but very little food, provided they can have plenty of coffee. The objection raised, that it would be better for these persons to take the nitrogen contained in coffee in the form of meat, is correct; but, on the other hand, we must stop to ask, whether meat would be good for the stomach at all such times as a cup of coffee is! This would certainly not be the case early in the morning; and if in the coffee we enjoy a beverage which gives us nutriment, strengthens the stomach and at the same time stimulates our mind, we have good reasons to reverence the instinct of man which raised coffee to an essential means of subsistence, and discovered its beneficial influence long before this was done by science.
USEFULNESS AND HURTFULNESS OF COFFEE.
Since coffee possesses the quality of stimulating the nervous system, it is a matter of course that in many cases its effect is rather injurious. Phlegmatic people, especially, need coffee, and they are fond of drinking it; for a similar reason it is a favorite beverage in the Orient, where its consumption is immense. But to persons of an excitable temperament the enjoyment of coffee is hurtful; they ought only to take it very weak. With lively children it does not agree at all, and it is very wrong to force them to drink it, as is often done; while elderly people, who are in need of a stimulant for the decreasing activity of their nerves, are right in taking as much of it as they choose.
In households of limited means it is often customary to use succory with coffee. We do not pretend to pronounce this, if taken in moderate quantity, hurtful; but we do say, that it is a poor substitute for coffee, and that there is nothing in it to recommend its use. A far better mixture is milk and sugar, and there is good reason for it; both milk and sugar are articles of food. Milk contains the same ingredients as blood, and sugar is changed in the body into fat, which is indispensable to us, especially to the process of breathing. Having taken no food through the night, the loss our blood has suffered during sleep by perspiration, and the fat which has been lost by respiration, must be compensated for in the morning. For this, milk and sugar in coffee are excellent. It is good for children to have a taste for sweetened milk, or milk-coffee,in the morning. We must not find fault with them if they like it. Nature very wisely gave them a liking for sugar; they need it, because their pulse must be quicker, their respiration stronger, in order to facilitate the assimilation of food in their bodies, and also to promote growth. Not that adults need no sugar; but the sugar necessary for them is formed from the starch contained in their food. For this purpose the digestive apparatus must be strongly developed; with children this is not the case; therefore they are given sugar, instead of the starch to make it from. Many diseases, particularly rickets—prevailing mostly among the children of the poor—are the consequence of feeding the child with bread and potatoes; these contain starch it is true, but the digestive apparatus of children being yet too weak to change them into fat, the result is that the flesh falls away, and the bones grow soft and crooked.
But he who, to promote digestion, takes coffee immediately after dinner, does best not to use sugar or milk; for both, so far from helping digestion, are an additional burden to the full stomach, and disturb its labor more than the coffee can facilitate it.
It is very good to take wheat bread for breakfast. Wheat has nearly twice the quantity of sugar and starch that rye contains, and it is besides easier to digest. And as it is our principal duty in the morning to replace as quickly as possible what we have lost during the night, it is a matter of importance to give the stomach such food as is both nutritive and quickly digested.
BREAKFAST.
Workmen, even those who must perform hard labor, are sufficiently strengthened by coffee and wheat bread in the morning to begin their work. But to be able to continue it, a more substantial breakfast is necessary, since coffee and bread alone would only replace what was lost during the night. On the continent of Europe it is therefore the custom to take coffee, or milk, and bread very early, and, at about nine or ten o'clock a more substantial meal, a kind of lunch.
Breakfast is with but few the principal meal of the day; for those, however, who rise early it is the one taken with the best appetite. This fact ought to induce all to give attention to this meal; especially those who early in the morning have worked hard already, and those who, mindful of the old saying,
"Early to bed and early to riseMakes a man healthy, wealthy and wise,"
"Early to bed and early to riseMakes a man healthy, wealthy and wise,"
intend not to idle away the precious morning hours.
To him who is in the habit of laboring, and who loves to labor, an early breakfast has a peculiar charm; and, what is yet more important to him, it tastes well. It is customary with us to eat much bread. Bread has as its principal constituents, starch and sugar, and if it has been well baked, a part of the starch is already saccharine, that is, it is nearly transformed into sugar, thus greatly facilitating the process of digestion. French naturalists have lately written excellent treatises about the change whichfresh bread undergoes when it becomes old. They prove that bread is most nutritive, and easiest to digest, when about a day old.
Bread is changed in our bodies partly into fat, as all food is which contains starch. But this formation of fat is greatly facilitated, if we take a little ready-made fat with it. For this purpose we eat butter with our bread. Hence we see that some people are wrong when they believe butter to be a mere luxury; on the contrary, butter is a very important article of food, more especially so to children.
The reason of this is, that the fat performs a conspicuous part in the human body; it serves to keep up the process of respiration. The oxygen which is inhaled, decomposes the fat in our body and from it forms water and carbonic acid. The water evaporates through perspiration; the carbonic acid is exhaled again. Now, if there is fat in us, this perspiration and exhalation will diminish it; but this very act of using up the fat preserves our flesh from being consumed in the process of producing carbonic acid and perspiration, which, if there were no fat, would greatly weaken us. Fat, thus to speak, is the spare-money, while flesh is the capital in the body. Fat itself does not make us strong, while flesh does. But where there is no fat, the processes of perspiration and respiration attack our flesh, which, unless abundantly reinforced, begins to disappear rapidly, while our strength begins to decrease more and more.
Thence it comes that lean persons eat much, while we often are astonished to see how little food is taken by fat people. The lean one has no fat to meet the drain produced by perspiration and respiration; he breathes and perspires accordingly at the expense of his flesh, and, therefore, is obliged to continually take in a fresh supply of food. The fat person, meanwhile, does not live on his capital,the flesh and the blood, but on his supply of fat; as it were, he pays expenses from his spare-money, and for this reason loses very little in strength.
From what has preceded, it follows that he who breathes much and perspires much when at work, must eat much fat-producing food, and besides add a little ready-made fat; while he who breathes and perspires little, needs but little of that kind of food. This accounts for the circumstance that in winter, when the air is denser, and therefore one inhales more oxygen and thus uses more fat for exhalation, we must eat more fat food; while in summer every one takes less of it. We know that in cold countries food is taken which, on account of its containing great quantities of fat, would in hot climates produce sickness.
A hearty worker perspires much at his labor, and, in consequence of his increased activity, breathes more than the quiet and sedentary; he must therefore eat with his breakfast some fat—bacon, etc.—because this enables him to prevent his flesh and blood from decreasing. His body will be strong and powerful, and he will at all times be able to earn with his arm more than his stomach costs him.
But let no one believe, therefore, that fat alone is a means of food, and, above all, beware of the mistake that ready-made fat is healthier to eat than fat-producing articles. Fine experiments have been made about the feeding of animals with fat. The results have shown that fat taken alone is injurious, and goes off again without having been of any use to the body; while, on the other hand, fat-producing food greatly assists the fattening of animals.
He who has seen how geese are fattened, will have a correct idea about the process of the formation of fat in the human body. A handful of dough is forced into the mouth and gullet of the goose; during the time of her fattening she is shut up in so close a space that she can neither risenor walk about. The poor creature is thus deprived of evaporation by perspiration; the process of breathing is rendered very difficult; and, because she breathes and perspires little, her fat does not change into carbonic acid and water, but collects in the body in an unusual manner, until finally the creature is relieved from her pains by being killed. We see that her fat is nothing else than the transformed starch of the dough, which remained in the body without being used. If we should try, however, to feed a goose on pure fat only, she would not fatten at all, but fall sick. Pure fat must only be taken together with fat-producing food. The cause of this is, that only a part of the intestines secretes a juice which can dissolve fat; while the gastric juice in the stomach does not dissolve the fat at all, but allows it to float on the surface, as fat does in water.
Our readers will now find it natural that a workman who perspires and breathes much, should by all means take but little bacon for breakfast; and this he must eat only on those days when he has much work before him; and then he must not eat it without bread.
LIQUOR.
Is it advisable to take a "drink" before breakfast?
This is a question of the greatest importance, and requires a very clear and impartial answer; for which our space is almost too limited.
Liquor is no article of food; if for a moment it were considered as such, we should find that it is even less nutritious than water with sugar in it. What makes liquor a necessary article, especially so to the working-classes, is a certain quality it possesses, a quality just as dangerous as it is good.
Liquor is a favorite beverage because of the alcohol it contains; this is nothing else than sugar which has undergone fermentation. Alcohol may be made from all those plants from which starch can be obtained; for, by the proper process, starch may be changed into gluten, gluten into sugar, and sugar into alcohol. Alcohol therefore conveys more nutriment to the human body than sugar itself, while it has qualities that the sugar does not possess, and which make it an article as popular as it is dangerous. If taken in small quantities, alcohol affects the body like medicine; in large portions, like poison. We are therefore not surprised if partly we cannot do without it, and if, on the other hand, we hear it condemned every day. What makes its enjoyment so very dangerous is, that although it is no article of food, it offers to the hungry a kind of substitute for food, and, what is worse, a substitute which is often the cheapest, and of most rapid effect in regard toquieting one's appetite. It is owing to this that its enjoyment may produce the most fatal and pernicious evils that ever were inflicted upon unhappy man.
Let us now learn the medicinal qualities of liquor, so that we may see that it is natural for it to be a favorite; and by exhibiting the dangers of its enjoyment, we shall succeed best in showing that people are justified in condemning its intemperate use; but it will also be seen that, in spite of the evident hurtfulness, its entire banishment would be a foolishness not resulting in good.
Liquor, if taken in a very small dose, possesses the quality of increasing the quantity of gastric juices. It excites the sides of the stomach, and by this promotes the secretion of the juice by which food is dissolved. It often occurs, that if but a minute quantity of fat has been taken, it envelops the food in the stomach; and as the gastric juice dissolves fat only with great difficulty, this food often remains undigested in the stomach, and nutrition then is carried on but defectively. Digestion, therefore, may be greatly improved, if the stomach is so affected as to secrete a greater quantity of gastric juice; this is often done by means of spice—for example, by putting a little pepper upon bacon or ham. The pepper itself does not help dissolve food, but excites the salivary glands and the stomach, thus increasing the gastric juice which performs digestion.
If fat has been eaten, the same effect may be produced by a little liquor. Indeed, it is even preferable to spice, inasmuch as it contains ether, which alone is able to dissolve fat.
Thus we have seen that liquor is a kind of medicine. And although every one must strive to do without medicine, still he must not condemn it; he should scorn rather the wantonness which throws itself on the mercy of medicine. It is right to oppose the enjoyment of much fat; but if once too much of it has been taken, there is no reasonwhy we should remonstrate against the medical application of a small quantity of liquor. To those who believe that they see in alcohol the evil spirit himself, it may some time or other happen, that even they eat a little too much fat, and then seek relief by taking some patent or other medicine, dropped on sugar. Most medicines used in such cases, however, are nothing but mixtures of sulphuric ether and alcohol; and if alcohol is the evil spirit, he is certainly not changed into an angel by putting him on sugar.
But liquor has yet another effect of great importance.
The alcohol it contains is immediately conveyed to the blood; through this it affects the brain and the nerves, exciting them to increased activity. By also affecting the nerves of the heart, it accelerates the circulation of the blood; this produces throughout the body a more rapid vital activity.
"Wine," the Bible says, "maketh glad the heart of man."
And wine itself is nothing else but an alcohol-combination. The animating element in wine is the same as the one in liquor. But it makes man's heart glad; which means as much as, it increases our vital activity; it rouses; it strengthens the weary and him who is exhausted bodily or mentally; it excites the body as well as the mind to move vigorous action. Taken in very small quantity, liquor has the same effect. It is therefore not only good for digestion, but also a prompt remedy for exhaustion. The reanimation, however, produced by the use of stimulants, is by no means a real gain; for he who feels tired and weary is best restored by nature herself. Artificial stimulation is followed by a greater reaction, by which all is lost again that has been gained by artificial animation. Yet many cases occur in human life when there is no time for the natural restoration of strength lost; thus, when it is preferable to complete one's task without delay, without restuntil it is finished. In such cases the desire for artificial stimulants is easily explained; then we ought not to condemn a moderate use of them, because that use is necessary.
The wanderer on his travels, the soldier in camp or battle, have often neither time nor opportunity to refresh themselves with a meal, or to recruit strength by a good rest. With them it is important to complete their journey or task, and to rest afterwards. A common workman may, at times, be in the same situation. In such cases a little brandy is of great service. It increases vital activity and courage; in many countries the army is for this reason permitted to use liquor, although, of course, sparingly.
Having now spoken of the medicinal use of liquor, we wish to examine more closely its dangers, and to explain the reason why its enjoyment is to many so great a temptation as often to become a passion.
A slight quantity of liquor taken at breakfast, makes one feel increased vital activity. The pulse beats quicker, the mind is stirred up, digestion easier, and before the food has been transformed into blood, we feel animated to vigorous bodily activity and motion. The enjoyment of spirit fills the long pause between the meal itself and its change into blood. He who feels exhausted and eats, has yet but satisfied the demands of the stomach, without therewith replenishing his blood. It takes a long time, often from five to six hours, before the blood is directly benefited. It is owing to this, that after dinner we do not feel lively, but inactive, disposed to rest. Now, he who after dinner cannot rest, but must continue to work, is anxious to stimulate himself by a dram of liquor, because this will act more quickly than the food he has taken. The spirits he took fill the long pause which exists between his meal and its complete transformation into blood.
Is it any longer surprising, that it is the workmen whomostly are subject to the use of spirits? No, we are not surprised; we feel sorry that they are not taught better; that instead of imparting to the people a knowledge of things useful to the preservation of health, we constantly remind them of the "devil and hell;" and that in place of teaching them, by the study of nature, how to avoid errors and dangers, we merely try to frighten them with future punishments.
The danger of spirits consists in this, that their good qualities, their advantageous effects, manifest themselves immediately, while their evils appear later. Liquor is not unlike a man whose virtues are laid open to every one; whose vices, however, are hidden, and who therefore is seductive and dangerous. If we wish to warn our fellow-men against such a one, we must not do it by denying or concealing his virtues; on the contrary, we must openly tell all his good qualities; the warning in which we lay bare his vices, will then be more, all the more readily heeded.
True, liquor is a medicine; but, like every other medical remedy, it becomes poisonous in the body of him who puts himself continually in such a condition as to be obliged to use it.
He who wishes to preserve his health, must not try to help nature by artificial means; he will only become weak. To illustrate this by an example: it is a well-known fact, that milk contains all the constituent parts of the blood; but if we were to feed a man merely on milk, those organs given him by nature to digest solid food, would weaken to such a degree that he would fall mortally ill. Man is healthy only when he permits nature the free and unlimited exercise of her functions; if he helps nature too much he may kill himself. It is similar with the use of liquor. The person who only now and then corrects nature, that is, when she actually needs it, is perfectly right. But heis very wrong and harms himself greatly, who wishes to assist nature when she needs no help. Unfortunately, the latter is very often the case, and the prime source of evil. The ignorant, having once had the experience that brandy promotes digestion, thinks it is good for him to continue to help his stomach; but he is greatly mistaken. By accustoming his stomach to secrete gastric juice only after the partaking of brandy, he weakens it; the natural digestion becomes defective through this; and the enjoyment of spirits, at first a medical remedy, rapidly becomes an indispensable necessity, with all its evil consequences.
INJURIOUSNESS OF DRINKING LIQUOR.
He who accustoms his stomach to secrete gastric juice only after a stimulus effected by spirits, destroys his digestive power. Unhappy man! He is no longer able to digest food, unless he stimulate his stomach with liquor. The already weak stomach is, by this habit, weakened more and more. Soon a small quantity will no longer suffice; a larger portion must effect what formerly was done by the smaller; this goes further and further, until finally thedrinkerbecomes—adrunkard.
It is well to look at the terrible consequences of such a condition more closely, to obtain a clear idea of it; and to examine all the circumstances which unfortunately produce it, mostly among the poorer and working classes.
The condition of an intoxicated person is to be distinguished from that of a regular drunkard. The former has taken alcohol; it goes into the blood, arrives in the brain, and excites the nerves to increased action. The nerves of the heart are also affected by it, and cause violent beating of the heart and pulse. The blood courses through the veins and rushes to the brain. This produces illusions of the senses, and confusion of sensations; sparks before the eyes; buzzing in the ears; dizziness, which makes the walk unsteady; redness of the skin and eyes; increased perspiration; greater activity in the lungs; a shorter and more rapid breathing; excitement of the mind to anger, and dimness of the faculties of judgment, causing the inebriate to believe that he possesses superior strength. If he beginsto move about, these manifestations, and especially the dizziness, increase; the slightest obstacle in the road causes him to stumble or fall; he cannot raise himself to his feet, nor can he sit up; but, lying on the ground, he is unconscious of everything around him; overcome with complete exhaustion—the effect of the reaction—he at last falls asleep; but his sleep does not rest him, although, if sufficiently long, it will restore the unfortunate to consciousness. He now suffers from that peculiar fatigue and lassitude which usually follow intoxication.
To this abject state every one is brought who in the enjoyment of spirits loses self-control. It is an unworthy, disgraceful and disgusting condition; but even the best of men may once fall into it; all the more so, if he is no habitual drinker. Strictly speaking, this subject belongs to another chapter; it belongs to that of intemperance, dissoluteness or bad society. If such a calamity has befallen an otherwise good man, let him amend his bodily ache by a cold bath; and his moral ache by an earnest vow not to do the like again.
Far more serious, however, is the lot of the real drunkard. This belongs to the chapter on nutrition, for it is true, we are sorry to say, that drunkards are produced mostly through want of proper nutriment; and it is always the case that constant intemperance is accompanied by that sickly condition in which the stomach is unable to digest solid food.
In a word, he who has accustomed his stomach to perform digestion only after the use of stimulants, has laid the foundation for drunkenness. With wealthy people, we know it to be frequently the case, that they take something "strong" in order to promote digestion; but the danger is here less great. For if the rich be convinced of his wrong, even at a late period, he can yet proceed in his reform energetically. He can afford to take liquid, easilydigestible food instead of solid. He will eat little meat; but that little very savory and prepared in a manner to be easily digested. He will choose but light vegetables. He will flavor his breakfast with caviare and lemon; and at dinner he will relish rich stewed fruit, by means of which appetite and digestion are increased. Should he not feel strengthened immediately after dinner, he has sufficient time to wait till his food is transformed into blood. He takes a nap after dinner, and a pleasant walk in the open air, to get an appetite for his well-selected supper.
Now, all these are excellent means to restore the wealthy man's appetite and digestive powers, even if he has gone so far in drinking as to weaken his stomach. It is notvirtueandtemperancethat causes thelessnumber of drunkards among the rich, but the readycompensationthey can afford, to cure themselves. And it not unfrequently occurs, that when the rich man loses his fortune, or, in other words, when he becomes poor, he becomes a drunkard. People generally excuse this, saying, "it is from despair;" but the truth is, that now he can no longer afford the costly compensation which previously preserved him from such a fate.
But what will the poor do in such a case more especially the workman?