COFFEE, MEDICINALLY AND DIETETICALLY CONSIDERED.——THE
TRUE THEORY OF STIMULATION.[84]
“The chief constituent of the coffee berry, the alkaloid _caffeine_——in
chemical analysis recognized as identical with that of the tea plant,
_theine_——when separated from the other constituents, ... so as to be seen
in its perfect purity, appears in snow-white, silky, filiform crystals,
flexible and fragile, without odor, but having a mildly bitter taste....
But it remains an important consideration that this crystallized
constituent ... is built on the chemical type of the alkaloid, a class of
bodies which nature forms in plants, but not in food-plants——bodies that
include narcotics, stimulants, hypnotics, deliriants, poisons, tonics;
some of them affecting the whole nervous system, one to excite and another
to depress; and others influencing only parts of the nervous system, for
special functions of the body.”[85]
[Footnote 84: This paper first appeared in the Boston _Journal of
Chemistry_ and _Popular Science Review_, May and June, 1882.]
[Footnote 85: Professor Albert B. Prescott, in _Popular Science Monthly_,
Jan., 1882, “Chemistry of Tea and Coffee.”]
“Medically speaking, this theine has a totally distinctive action from the
infusions of which it forms a part. In the form of an infusion of tea or
coffee, we have to deal with a large proportion of astringent matter, in
the form of tannic acid, and with the presence of the essential oil, which
is an excitant to the nervous system, and is the substance to which must
be ascribed disorders of the nervous system which result from tea and
coffee drinking, such as palpitation of the heart and sleeplessness. The
theine, upon the other hand, of which there is about one-tenth of a grain
in an ordinary cup of tea, is the restorative agent to the nervous system,
and is opposed, in its therapeutic properties, to the action of the
essential oil. The infusion, therefore, of tea or coffee may induce
palpitation in a heart liable to excessive or incoordinate action; but
theine, on the contrary, may be looked to, therapeutically, to quiet
palpitation. The infusion, by being an excitant, may prevent sleep.
Theine, by being a restorative and an indirect sustainer and regulator of
the circulation, may induce sleep. Individual medical investigators have,
more than this, attempted, from time to time, to show that the action of
theine is allied to that of quinine.”[86]
[Footnote 86: “Tea and Coffee as Nervines,” by Dr. Lewis Shapter, in
_British Medical Journal_.]
It can not be questioned that the administration of coffee, in the form of
an infusion or otherwise, is entirely in accord with the theory and
practice of medicine at the present day. It is, however, a fact well known
to practitioners, and indeed generally to “laymen,” that the constant and
long-continued use of any medicine transforms its “remedial” influence
into one promotive of disease that may perhaps demand the curative aid of
some other drug.
A strong infusion of _café noir_ (administered, it is to be presumed, to
one not an habitual user) has been recently claimed by a celebrated French
physician as an effectual antidote for the blood-poison that exists in
typhus, typhoid, and yellow fevers. While this may be true, I am sure that
there are, on the other hand, good grounds for the belief that the
habitual use of coffee as an article of diet aids materially in the
accumulation of the poison, and in the production of that abnormal
condition or quality of the tissues of the body which the vital forces
seek to rectify by means of the expulsive efforts which constitute the
symptoms of typhoid and other fevers. Indeed, Dr. Segur, who evidently
regards coffee as the nearest approach to the Elixir of Life, claims, as
one of the _benefits_ resulting from its use, that “it lessens the waste
of tissue, and therefore renders less food necessary.” Now, to interfere
with or hinder any of the normal processes of the organism, especially
those most vital to the economy, as, for example, that of the constant
breaking down and excretion of the tissues, is not only to invite, but the
impairment of these functions in and of itself constitutes, disease. He
further says, “After a heavy meal, it relieves the sense of oppression and
helps digestion.” What it really accomplishes, however, in such cases, is
this: it mitigates the immediate effects of excess by diluting and washing
away a portion of the food (of course unprepared for intestinal
digestion), and, after the first congestive effects have subsided, by
producing anæmia of the stomach, thereby _hindering_ digestion, it
relieves temporarily, but at great cost ultimately, the sense of
oppression produced by a gluttonous meal. By hindering digestion, in this
or in any other manner, as, for example, by resuming muscular or mental
labor directly after eating, we may prevent or delay plethora——the
surcharge of the blood with nutritive material that results from the rapid
absorption of an over-full meal;[87] but later on there will take place in
the alimentary tract more or less fermentation of its undigested contents,
which, with the foul and noxious gases generated thereby, will, to a
greater or less degree, be absorbed into the circulation. Thus we observe
the two-fold effect of this most delicious and seductive beverage: by
“lessening the waste,” it prevents the body from remaining sound in its
tissues, (see index: “fossil bodies”) and causes blood-poisoning from
indigestion. For if, by reason of anæmia of the stomach and intestines,
the digestive fluids are not secreted in sufficient amount to preserve it,
“the food rapidly undergoes chemical decomposition in the alimentary
canal, and often putrefies.”[88] This accounts for the gas coming from the
stomach and bowels of persons troubled with indigestion and constipation,
who frequently complain of a rotten-egg taste in the mouth. “This gas, in
its poisonous effect, is similar to hydrocyanic or prussic acid, only not
so powerful. It is a very destructive agent in its interference with those
vital processes concerned in ultimate nutrition, robbing the blood
corpuscles of vitality, and preventing the transformation into tissue of
the nutriment conveyed by the circulation, and of worn-out tissue into
waste, thus poisoning the blood and nervous centers, and disturbing the
whole animal economy.” In view of this state of things, need we search
with microscopes for the causes of sickness, go outside of our own bodies
for “malaria,” or look to any extraordinary circumstance as essential to
generate the most deadly diseases? According to the recent experiments (on
dogs) of M. Lennen, communicated to the Paris Society of Biology, coffee
does produce “anæmia of the stomach, retards digestion, and, the anæmia
repeating itself, ends by bringing on habitual increased congestion of the
stomach, which, according to M. Lennen, is synonymous with dyspepsia.”
[Footnote 87: As explained elsewhere (p. 201), gentle exercise in the open
air, after such a meal, though not the best, is nevertheless a remedy.]
[Footnote 88: Effects of Excess in Diet, “Physiology and Hygiene,” p. 402,
Huxley.]
It is not difficult, then, to comprehend why the final effect of coffee
must be especially injurious, if not disastrous, to asthmatics and
“consumptives,” the head and front of whose disease is dyspepsia, pure and
simple. (See “Consumption.”) The _British Medical Journal_, after noting
the experiments of M. Lennen, and favoring his conclusions, goes on to
say: “It is well known——and English physicians have laid great stress upon
this point——that the abuse of coffee and tea often brings on gastralgia,
dyspepsia, and, at the same time, more or less disturbance of the
_apparatus of innervation_.” The question naturally arises, What
constitutes an “abuse” of a medicine? I should say its daily use as a
beverage.
Coffee is a _purgative_——a very agreeable form of breakfast pill——but, as
with all purgative medicines, an increasing dose is necessary, and its
final effect is constipation, with no end of possibilities as a result of
the retention of waste matters in the blood. Constipation, however
produced, is a _predisposing_ cause, and the continuance of the habits
that have produced and now maintain it constitutes a sufficient _exciting_
cause, of such diseases as neuralgia, rheumatism, erysipelas, fevers of
various sorts (including scarlet fever and “head cold,”) and, with the aid
of sewer gas _insufficiently diluted with outdoor air_——by means of
ventilation——diphtheria, or any of the zymotic “diseases.” Worst of all,
those more terrible maladies (because more permanent and enduring, and
unrecognized as symptoms of disease), as nervousness, peevishness,
irritability, and general unreasonableness, are due, in great measure, to
impoverishment of the blood; the nerves are insufficiently nourished, and
the brain is “set on edge” by the poisoned circulation.
Professor Prescott makes this very interesting remark with regard to the
chemistry of coffee and tea: “But the change of guanine into theine is
easily accomplished. It is perfectly practicable to bring guano material
to the laboratory, and send away the same atomic elements transformed into
the snow-white, silky crystals of theine. Given only sufficient demand for
the pure stimulant principle of tea and coffee, and a market high enough
above the cost of its vegetable sources, and it might then safely be
predicted that not many months would elapse before companies with
thousands of capital stock would engage successfully in the chemical
manufacture of theine from guano. Then, very likely, rival companies would
establish the claim to manufacture a still purer article from certain of
the waste substances of the world——articles more accessible than guano.”
As to the nutritive properties of coffee, although the food constituents
of the _berry_ are considerable in quantity, yet so deficient are they in
digestibility that, in the infusion especially, it is more than doubtful
if they are of advantage in supporting life, under any circumstances;
indeed, I have no doubt that the poisonous effects of the alkaloid and
tannin far outweigh any gain from the nutrients. At any rate, he would be
a bold man, indeed, and I doubt not a defeated one in the end, who should
attempt to imitate Mr. John Griscomb’s fast of forty-five days (which was
attended by no discomfort even), substituting coffee infusion for pure
water.
Coffee interferes with digestion, and, consequently, with nutrition, aside
from its specific or general effects upon the digestive organs, by the
manner in which it is usually taken: a mouthful of food and then a draught
of the beverage prevents the necessity of chewing[89] and prohibits the
secretion of the saliva and its admixture with the starchy elements of
the cereals and vegetables, so essential to the preparation of this class
of food for digestion further on. The first process in the transformation
of starch into blood, is its conversion into grape sugar, and we know that
saliva fulfills this function; and while it is believed that the
intestinal juices also act in the same manner, still, we are not at
liberty to suppose that the preliminary change designed to be begun in the
mouth is unnecessary. Or, if it be in a measure true that this fluid,
being constantly secreted and swallowed, _thus_ performs its legitimate
function, it is certain that the salivary glands are injured, their
functions impaired, and the quality and quantity of their secretions
modified by the ingestion of hot, astringent fluids; and this must
certainly be one of the injurious effects of tobacco-chewing or smoking.
No one would suppose for one moment that the glands of the liver, or
kidneys, for example, could continue their offices satisfactorily in face
of constant contact with a poultice of tobacco, corresponding in size to
an ordinary quid, which would, in the mouth of a novice, produce purgative
effects, often within one minute from its application. In fact, it may be
relied upon that the ingestion into the mouth or stomach of any substance
that causes the bowels to “act,” in the common understanding of this term,
whether the dose be in solid or liquid form——tends to, and the constant
or frequent use of such devices will, impair and permanently injure the
entire alimentary tract, from mouth to anus, and all its secreting and
excreting glands.
[Footnote 89: The prevalence of “bad teeth” is in my opinion referable
chiefly to three causes: (1) innutrition resulting from the use of
impoverished or indigestible food substance, (2) the use of hot drinks,
(3) _non-use_ of the teeth; dental exercise is the best dentifrice.
Observe the quality, whiteness and clean condition of the dogs’ teeth:
from early youth their “tooth-brushes” are bones, which they are
constantly gnawing. Bread-crusts, or wheat-kernels, would do the business
for our young growing children, replacing “candy,” for instance.]
Coffee is a _diuretic_, and hence its habitual use promotes disease of the
kidneys. “Very warm drinks are in themselves debilitating to the stomach,
but the addition of the properties of tea, coffee, or other herbs, burdens
the kidneys and urinary apparatus with an unnatural amount of labor
continually. (See Bright’s Disease.) These organs, kept constantly
over-excited, must become debilitated, and preternaturally irritable, and
this condition of debility and irritability extends sympathetically to all
the surrounding viscera; finally, the abdominal muscles themselves become
relaxed, and, with the general nervous exhaustion produced by the active
nervine and narcotic properties of the herb throughout the system, a
foundation is laid for the whole train of maladies, displacements of
organs, disordered functions, and ‘weaknesses,’ which are so general at
the present day.”
Again, coffee is often referred to as a respiratory food. It does, in
small doses, and at first, have the effect to excite abnormally the nerves
governing the respiratory movements, as well as those of the heart,
stomach, etc.——stimulates them; hence the tendency, finally, to sluggish
action of these organs, and even paralysis: a peculiar type of “nightmare”
often met with among coffee and tobacco users, illustrates this well,
although the connection is not usually comprehended,——a feeling of
suffocation, following one of pressure, or “rushing feeling,” at the base
of the brain, as it is often described; usually observed at night just as
the individual is dropping off to sleep, seemingly at the very moment of
“losing” himself, and very naturally, too, at this particular moment:
prior thereto there had been somewhat of a constrained feeling, perhaps,
unobserved by the victim, who, while awake, would continue the process of
breathing by means of an unconscious, but still real, degree of voluntary
effort. In sleep, the suffocation which ensues causes the victim to wake
with a start and with a violent palpitation of the heart; or he may not
succeed in rousing himself: this means death. In fact, all stimulants and
poisons, as tobacco, coffee, distilled liquors, etc., _tend_ to local and
general paralysis.
Coffee is styled the drink, _par excellence_, of the brain-worker. Cases
like the following are by no means rare: Under the influence of two or
three cups of strong coffee the brain of an essayist works satisfactorily,
perhaps for hours; the hands and feet meanwhile growing cold and clammy,
and the entire surface “chilly,” while the brain throbs with congestion,
until, finally, the mind becomes confused, strange mistakes are made,
words are repeated or misspelled, and although the over-stimulated but now
clogged and exhausted brain can see, dimly outlined within itself, pages,
whole chapters perhaps, that must be written now or be forever lost——or at
least his diseased imagination thus pictures it——still he finds it
impossible to proceed, and with a martyr spirit, or perhaps despairingly,
he ceases from his labors. A night of disturbed sleep (see article on
Insomnia) almost surely follows, and during its waking intervals the brain
often does its best work, which is worse than lost, unless the sufferer
rises in (what should be) “the dead hours of the night” to record his
brilliant thoughts. This effort he is often loath to make: he can think,
or rather can not stop thinking, but he feels too weak to rise. Imperfect,
however, as may be his repose, still, he may, with the aid of fresh
stimulation, be enabled to take up his work again for the day. This may go
on indefinitely, but with less and less satisfactory results from month to
month,——neuralgic pains, “nervous headaches,” or other evidence of
visceral irritation, meantime adding to the sufferings to be
endured,——until, after a time, becoming alarmed, he feels the need of a
long vacation. If, however, in spite of all premonitions of danger, he
keeps on denying himself the “rest” (from stimulation as well as from
labor) he so much needs, it is like pulling a heavy load up-hill, and a
little later he finds himself utterly prostrated. Whether, now, he dies
speedily of paralysis, “heart disease,” or “nervous prostration”; fails
gradually and dies of “consumption”; or recovers some degree of health,
after a long illness, the cause of his disease is believed by himself,
friends——and physician, perhaps——to have been “overwork.”[90] In fact, it
is the effect of _stimulation_ inciting to excessive brain, to the
neglect of physical, exercise; the brain is clogged by its own unexcreted
waste, and the entire system unbalanced and unstrung. It is in such cases
that a resort to “tonic treatment,” beef-tea, or a “generous diet” of
flesh-food——for which, perhaps, a fictitious appetite is created by the
use of “regular” or irregular bitters——often destroys the patient’s last
chance for recovery. “It is,” says Professor Brunton, “piling on fuel,
instead of removing ash.”[91]
[Footnote 90: The same amount of the stimulant alone (coffee, tobacco,
wine, or what not), _without_ the hard work that tended to aid in its
elimination, would have made quicker work of it. What such a person
requires under these circumstances is to give his brain rest from severe
mental application. Nor is it, in my opinion, sound doctrine to say that a
weary-brained man may rest by rushing at muscular exercise, or _vice
versa_. To a certain extent the rule holds good; but the exhausted or very
tired man requires a period of absolute rest, before taking up any form of
work. At the proper time, however, he will be improved by taking up active
exercise in the open air, and performing daily such regular muscular and
literary work as he can comfortably, however little this may be, without
any sort of stimulation other than that derived from simple, nutritious
food and pure air. (See article on Consumption for hint as to exercise.)]
[Footnote 91: “Indigestion as a Cause of Nervous Prostration,” _Popular
Science Monthly_, January, 1881.]
The illustration here given is one of the worst cases, but such instances
are frequently observed among the class usually designated as brain
workers, not only, but among business men, whose work, scheming, mishaps,
and unnatural habits altogether, bring them to sick-beds and premature
graves; while mild forms are met with constantly everywhere.
Whatever degree of eminence our brain-workers may hope to attain under any
form of stimulation, before their lives shall be prematurely ended, all
may rest assured that by obeying the laws of life and building up a
healthy body they will, in the long run——the “run” made longer thereby——do
more and better work without than with artificial aid. The stimulus of
good health is far better than that derived from any stimulating drink.
The most brilliant productions of the brain, under stimulation, may,
strictly speaking, be called _premature births_.
Professor Proctor, in the paper before alluded to, further says:
“Notwithstanding the adoption of theine-containing beverages by mankind at
large, we can not hesitate to commend that robust habit which discards all
dependence on adventitious food, even on so mild a stimulus as that of the
tea-cup, and preserves through life the fresh integrity of full nervous
susceptibility. And probably there was never a time when there were so
many persons as now who are disposed, by conviction and by a desire for a
stalwart physical independence, to refuse to fix any habit that holds the
nervous system.”
Dr. Segur asserts that “habitual coffee-drinkers generally enjoy good
health and live to a good old age.” We find, however, that a very large
proportion of those coffee-drinkers who are observing and conscientious
freely confess to the ill effects of the beverage: It makes them “nervous,
irritable, or gives them headache frequently,” they say; and it is quite
common to hear them declare that they would leave it off if they could,
but they “depend on it——it is the principal part of breakfast.” Often
enough it is all the breakfast taken. It prevents hunger or appeases it by
rendering the stomach anæmic, and its stimulating effects are mistaken for
added strength. And it is even worse where the coffee-drinker is at the
same time a full-feeder; for, are we not told that this beverage “lessens
the waste of tissue and renders less food necessary?” Quite a percentage
of even robust people, beginning to feel, or to recognize after having
long felt, the twinges of dyspepsia do, either on their own judgment or by
the advice of the family physician, give up the habit, and find great
benefit from the change; and but for clinging to other unnatural
practices, they might often bid adieu to all their physical ills.
A few, comparatively, of the most vigorous men and women, it can not be
denied, do “enjoy good health and live to a good old age,” in spite of
many injurious practices, including the habitual use of the stimulant
coffee. But even these have their intervals of suffering, more or less
severe——“attacks” that better habits would prevent. Of the latter class,
out of scores whom I might mention, the experience of O. B. Frothingham is
noteworthy. He says: “Although no positive ill effect has been traceable
to either of them [tea and coffee] or wine, all of which have been used
sparingly, yet, were my life to live over again, I should accustom myself
to abstinence from all three. It seems to me now, on looking back, that
something of dullness and languor, something of exhaustion and dreaminess,
something of lethargy, something too of heat and irritability, may be
chargeable to a practice not in any grave degree harmful or blameworthy.
The faculties have been less keen and patient than they would have been
under a strictly natural regimen.”
It might, perhaps, in this connection, be profitable to ask,
WHAT IS A “STIMULANT”?
In reply I would say that any poisonous or unnatural substance ingested
into the living body, in amount within the ability of the vital organism
to _readily_ expel it; or even of the most wholesome food substance in
excess of the _needs_ of the organism, and yet, again, not so excessive as
to depress the vital forces instead of spurring them to increased efforts
to thrust it out, is a stimulant. In short, anything of an injurious
nature, by reason of quality, amount, or the conditions under which it is
administered, may produce stimulating effects. But the inevitable
“reaction” of stimulation is depression; although, from natural causes,
convalescents often make sufficient progress to overwhelm, or at least
obscure, the evidence of the secondary effects.
Speaking with direct reference to the effect of alkaloids in general,
Professor Prescott says, “While a certain portion stimulates the nervous
system, a large portion acts as a sedative, so that a difference in
quantity of the potion causes a difference in kind of its effects.” It
should ever be borne in mind that the increased action under stimulation
is simply the extra effort forced upon the vital organism to expel an
intruder——the intruder being the stimulant itself. If this be the case, it
necessarily follows that stimulants deplete, and can never replenish the
vital exchequer. Instances have been noted of children who were observed
to be unusually active and jubilant immediately prior to an “attack” of
diphtheria. In such case——and a true history of every case might
establish this as the rule——the diphtheritic poison acts as a stimulant;
nature is trying to thrust it out, and all the life forces are abnormally
active. We can not know in how many instances she succeeds in these
efforts, nor yet how often her defeats are due to the administration of
poisons, and food that for want of digestion becomes a poison, altogether
so adding to the toxic condition that nature finally ends an evil she can
not cure. After a vigorous expulsive efforts, for example, the system,
temporarily quiescent, gathering fresh strength for a renewal of the
conflict to dislodge the enemy, or, possibly, having already accomplished
the main work, now rests in the stage preceding convalescence——is supposed
to require the aid of a stimulant, and food also must be given at frequent
intervals “to prevent the patient from sinking;” but alas, this proves the
weight about his neck that carries him to the bottom——“supported” to
death. In comparing the stimulation of the vital organism, in sickness, to
the spurring up of a tired or lazy animal to greater exertion, there is
always this grand difference: the former will every time, and always,
exert its entire force, that is, will exert it better, more savingly to
life, without, than with, stimulation. “Self-preservation is the first law
of nature;” and no other circumstance possible to imagine, better
illustrates this law, than the living organism in sickness.
Coffee makes the timid or diffident man brave——gives him confidence in
himself; but, by “reaction,” this fictitious bravery gives place to
nervousness. Many persons experience a certain undefinable dread of
approaching danger, a veritable “can’t-sleep-for-fear-of-burglars” sort
of wakefulness, which leaves them after a few weeks’ abstinence from
coffee-stimulation. Hot coffee or tea makes one warm——the very finger-tips
tingle with warm blood; but later, in default of another dram——perhaps in
spite of it——he feels chilly, even in a warm room; there is a
“can’t-get-warm-any-way” sort of feeling, to be accounted for, he fancies,
only upon the theory that he has “caught cold!” He is suffering from
coffee poisoning.
Although personally a dear lover of coffee, and, by reason of an
exceptionally robust habit of body, at present, able to indulge in its use
with less apparent harm than I find, upon long and careful inquiry and
observation, is the case with most people, yet, nevertheless, I stand
condemned by the eulogy of Abd-el-Kadir Anasari Dgezeri Hambali, son of
Mahomet: “O coffee! thou dispellest the cares of the great; thou bringest
back those who wander from the paths of knowledge. Coffee is the beverage
of the people of God, and the cordial of his servants who thirst for
wisdom. When coffee is infused into the bowl, it exhales the _odor of
musk_, and is of the _color of ink_. The truth is not known except to the
wise, who drink it from the foaming coffee-cup. God has deprived fools of
coffee, who, with invincible obstinacy, condemn it as injurious.”
According to Professor Prescott, “the administration of theine in small
portions, to animals or to man, quickens the circulation and effects some
degree of mental exhilaration and wakefulness. In final result, the
excretion of carbonic-acid gas is diminished, and the flow of blood
through the capillaries is retarded.” “Larger portions,” he continues,
“prove poisonous, causing painful restlessness, rigidity of the muscles,
and general exhaustion. Not more than three or four grains at once can be
properly taken for medicinal or experimental purposes.” As often prepared
for old coffee-tipplers, two cupfuls (about 16 oz.) of the infusion will
contain this quantity of the alkaloid. As usually taken, of course, the
proportion of the alkaloid is much less. In conclusion, I would repeat
that it may with propriety be claimed for coffee that its administration
as a medicine is as legitimate as that of any other, and no more so;
certainly its daily use as an article of diet is as inconsistent and
contrary to reason, as the similar use of any drug in the materia medica.
* * * * *
NOTE.——In the foregoing I have not considered the question of
the influence of tea and coffee upon the “temperance movement.”
One of the keenest observers of human nature, as well as one of
our soundest _thinkers_, Dr. Oswald, from whose Physical
Education I have freely drawn in the chapters on Consumption--
and his view in this matter is endorsed by many very able
physiologists and sociologists——says (p. 64): “The road to the
rum-cellar leads through the coffee-house. Abstinence from _all_
stimulants, only, is easier than temperance.” Everywhere do I
find temperance reformers essaying to lead rum-drinkers back _by
the road they came_, viz: back through the coffee-house——taking
a drink _en route_. I think that, in the long run, they will do
better to try to conduct them from the “gin-mill” squarely into
the street, and thence home. While not desiring to furnish
arguments for the opponents of temperance (I would that _all_
stimulants were done away with), I cannot forbear pointing out
what seems to me a glaring inconsistency among my co-laborers in
reform. Of course all must admit that, in many respects, there
can be no comparison drawn between liquor-drinking and tea and
coffee-drinking: Other things equal, the man who drinks “rum” to
excess, works vastly more misery in the world than the coffee
toper; though, individually, if the latter were to indulge as
copiously as does his spirit-drinking contemporary, he would
suffer as much, probably more, in his health——would die more
speedily. Of course we know that few coffee and tea-drinkers
indulge to this extreme; but when we consider the almost
universal use of these beverages——by women and growing children,
as well as by men, it is more than doubtful whether they do not,
_per se_, from a health point of view (considering, moreover,
the influence of disease upon morals) aggregate more harm than
their _more_ “ardent” rivals. Added to this, the fact that the
use of one stimulant often leads to the use of others and
stronger (as we have always argued that beer and wine lead on to
whisky and brandy), the friends of true reform may well ask
themselves whether, in their own indulgence in tea and coffee,
and in the effort to increase their use among the people, they
are not hitting wide of the mark? I am well aware that
wine-drinkers, and those who indulge moderately in stronger
drink, often pertinently reply to temperance workers, “When all
the temperance reformers leave off _their_ favorite stimulants
we will leave off ours.” Says Dr. Dudley A. Sargent, Professor
of Physical Culture at Harvard College, “I am convinced that
coffee works more injury to mankind than beer.”