EATING AND SLEEPING
For his sleep
Was aery light, from pure digestion bred.
MILTON.
We do not have to depend upon mere irresponsible guesses for the new
faith in the possibility of longer life for man. Scientists have been
experimenting along this line for some years, and Metchnikoff assures
us that the average human life should exceed “three-score years and
ten” by four decades.
He points out that the greatly increased number of persons who remain
physically and mentally active past the age of seventy-five and eighty
years is itself a proof that life may be prolonged. He recognizes that
merely to extend existence is not a sufficient end to work for—it must
be an active, worthwhile existence, and he has experimented toward this
end.
All of us can recall instances of “old people” who have preserved
their physical and mental faculties until their last years. We have
been in the habit of regarding these people as exceptions and have
perhaps not noticed that these “exceptions” are already almost
frequent enough to prove that there is no such rule for longevity.
Whenever we investigate a new and wonderful thing, we find that
its causes are simple and ordinary. So Metchnikoff and kindred
experimenters are beginning to show us that prolonging life is a
comparatively simple matter. It comes back again to diet and sleep on
the physical side and to understanding of the universal laws on the
mental and the emotional side of life.
All scientific men agree that nearly all of us eat too much, or eat
improper food. Most of them say that we sleep too much, or try to sleep
too much. They advise simple diet, varied but not heavy. It is probable
that the early human being ate as the wild animals do, to appease
hunger, and had to eat whatever he could find without regard to taste.
As civilization advanced and he learned ways of getting increased
returns from Nature, he began to select and choose what he should eat.
In this way he developed “appetite” as apart from natural hunger, and
as his knowledge increased, and his taste became more and more refined,
appetite gradually took the place of hunger.
People ordinarily seldom know the pleasure of satisfying real hunger.
Because of habit, the appetite stirs as often as three or five times
a day and we gratify it. We must have certain foods prepared in a
certain way. Eating becomes an end in itself, rather than merely a
means to an end. If appetite is fully indulged, he becomes heavy,
suffers from indigestion and sleeplessness, talks of stomach trouble
and consequent “loss of appetite.” He seeks a physician to restore
what he is really better without. Not every physician is as wise as
the one to whom a cook once applied. She told her story of inability
to eat her meals, of uncertain and unrestful sleep, increased weight,
and shortness of breath. The physician heard her tale of woe and asked
her the size of the family for which she cooked and about their mode
of living. He learned that the family consisted of five, and that they
entertained lavishly. “Do you taste all the food you prepare?” was the
next question.
“Yes, sir; I must taste it to be sure it is just right.” “Ah!”
replied the doctor; “put on a plate exactly the same quantity of
everything that you take to taste—no more, no less—and send it to me
to-morrow evening.”
Much to the cook’s astonishment, at the close of the next day, which
had included a dinner-party, there was a heaping platter of food, more
than she would have thought it possible to eat even at three meals.
“It is not a tonic you want,” said the physician. “You already eat
too much, which accounts for your loss of appetite, shortness of
breath, and sleeplessness. It may be necessary for you to taste all
the food you cook, but take smaller ‘tastes’ and eat nothing else on
cooking days. I cannot help you; you must help yourself.” (Being an
ignorant woman, she went to another doctor and got some ill-tasting
drug.)
And such is, after all, the decision of all the scientific
investigators into the life and health of men: We must help ourselves
by understanding the laws of life and observing them.
Most rich persons are really like the man who applied to his physician
about “loss of appetite.” “Try beginning dinner with raw oysters,”
said the doctor. In a few days the patient returned, to say that the
oysters did no good.
“Maybe you didn’t eat enough?” said the doctor.
“Well,” said the man, “I ate four dozen.”