I have not had a large experience in the matter of alcoholic drinks.

I find that about two glasses of champagne are an admirable stimulant

to the tongue, and is, perhaps, the happiest inspiration for an after

dinner speech which can be found; but, as far as my experience goes,

wine is a clog to the pen, not an inspiration. I have never seen the

time when I could write to my satisfaction after drinking even one

glass of wine. As regards smoking, my testimony is of the opposite

character. I am forty-six years old, and I have smoked immoderately

during thirty-eight years, with the exception of a few intervals,

which I will speak of presently. During the first seven years of my

life I had no health--I may almost say that I lived on allopathic

medicine, but since that period I have hardly known what sickness is.

My health has been excellent, and remains so. As I have already said,

I began to smoke immoderately when I was eight years old; that is, I

began with one hundred cigars a month, and by the time I was twenty I

had increased my allowance to two hundred a month. Before I was

thirty, I had increased it to three hundred a month. I think I do not

smoke more than that now; I am quite sure I never smoke less. Once,

when I was fifteen, I ceased from smoking for three months, but I do

not remember whether the effect resulting was good or evil. I repeated

this experiment when I was twenty-two; again I do not remember what

the result was. I repeated the experiment once more, when I was

thirty-four, and ceased from smoking during a year and a half. My

health did not improve, because it was not possible to improve health

which was already perfect. As I never permitted myself to regret this

abstinence, I experienced no sort of inconvenience from it. I wrote

nothing but occasional magazine articles during pastime, find as I

never wrote one except under strong impulse, I observed no lapse of

facility. But by and by I sat down with a contract behind me to write

a book of five or six hundred pages--the book called "Roughing it"--

and then I found myself most seriously obstructed. I was three weeks

writing six chapters. Then I gave up the fight, resumed my three

hundred cigars, burned the six chapters, and wrote the book in three

months, without any bother or difficulty. I find cigar smoking to be

the best of all inspirations for the pen, and, in my particular case,

no sort of detriment to the health. During eight months of the year I

am at home, and that period is my holiday. In it I do nothing but very

occasional miscellaneous work; therefore, three hundred cigars a month

is a sufficient amount to keep my constitution on a firm basis. During

the family's summer vacation, which we spend elsewhere, I work five

hours every day, and five days in every week, and allow no

interruption under any pretext. I allow myself the fullest possible

marvel of inspiration; consequently, I ordinarily smoke fifteen cigars

during my five hours' labours, and if my interest reaches the

enthusiastic point, I smoke more. I smoke with all my might, and allow

no intervals.

MARK TWAIN.

March 14, 1882.

MR. CORNELIUS WALFORD, F. S. S., F. I. A.

The subject you enquire about is one of vital consequence to

brain-workers. I am distinctly of opinion that all stimulants are

decidedly injurious to the physical system, and that as a consequence

they tend to weaken and destroy the mental powers. I believe tobacco

to be a more insidious stimulant than alcoholic beverages. It can be

indulged in more constantly without visible degradation; but surely it

saps the powers of the mind. In this view I gave it up some years ago.

Many men say they smoke to make them think. I notice that a number of

them seem to think to very small purpose, either for themselves or

mankind generally. I am not a total abstainer, and theoretically have

had a belief that pure wine ought to be beneficial to the human

system. In practice I have not found it so, though I have always been

a very moderate drinker. I certainly never drank a glass of wine or

any other liquor in view of mental stimulus, and did not know it was

ever seriously regarded as having any such effect, except in so far

as it might invigorate the body, which I now find it does not do; but

in case of sedentary occupations is positively injurious in its

effects. Until mankind can rise above beer and tobacco, the race will

remain degraded, as it now is, mentally, socially and physically.

P.S.--I have never had so large an amount of mental labour on hand as

now--three works in the press (including an encyclopedia, whereof all

the articles are written by myself), all requiring much thought and

research. I am taking no stimulants whatever.

CORNELIUS WALFORD.

March 9, 1882.

MR. G. F. WATTS, R. A.

In answer to your letter asking for my experience and opinion as a

worker, on the subject of tobacco and alcoholic stimulants, I must

begin by saying that reflection and experience should teach us the

truth of the adage that "What is one man's meat is another man's

poison," and that what may be wisely recommended in some cases is by

no means desirable in all; in fact, that it is equally unwise and

illiberal to dogmatise upon any subject that is not capable of

scientific proof. Being myself a total abstainer from tobacco, and

equally so, when not recommended by my doctor, from wine and all

stimulants, I confess to having a strong prejudice against them. The

use of wine seems to be natural to man, and it is possible he would be

the better for it if it could be restrained within very moderate

limits; but I have good reason for concluding that the more active

stimulants are altogether harmful. It is natural as time goes on that

new wants should be acquired, and new luxuries discovered, and

doubtless it is in the abuse, and not in the use, of such things that

the danger lies; but we all know how prone humanity is to abuse in its

indulgences. It is, I believe, an admitted fact that even people who

are considered to be strictly temperate as a rule, habitually take

more wine than is good for them. With regard to tobacco, I cannot help

thinking that its introduction by civilised races has been an unmixed

evil. History shows us that before it was known the most splendid

mental achievements were carried put, and the most heroic endurance

exhibited, things done which if it be possible to rival, it is quite

impossible to excel. The soldier, and sailor, the night-watchman

especially in malarious districts may derive comfort and benefit from

its use, and there I think it should be left; for my observation has

induced me to think that nothing but evil results from its use as a

luxurious habit. The subject is doubtless one of vital interest and

importance; but I must end as I began by disclaiming a right to

dogmatise.

G. F. WATTS.

Feb. 19, 1882.

PROFESSOR ANDREW WILSON, Ph. D., F. R. S. E.

The question you ask concerning the effects of alcohol and tobacco

upon the health of brain-workers, relatively (I presume) to myself, is

a complex one. Personally, I find with often excessive work in the way

of lecturing, long railway journeys, and late hours, writing at other

times, that I digest my food with greater ease when I take a little

claret or beer with meals. Experiment has convinced me that the slight

amount of alcohol I imbibe in my claret is a grateful stimulus to

digestion. As to smoking, I take an occasional cigar, but only after

dinner, and never during the day. As to health, I never suffer even

from a headache. I usually deliver 18 lectures a week, often more; and

I have often to make journeys of over 50 miles after a hard day's work

here, to lecture in the country. My writing is done at night chiefly,

but as a rule, I don't sit after 12-30. My work is exceptionally

constant, yet I seem to be exceptionally healthy. I regard my claret

or wine to meals in the same light in which others regard their tea,

as a pleasant stimulus, followed in my case by good effect. At the

same time, there may be others who may do the same amount of work as

abstainers. My position in this matter has always been that of

recognising the individual phases of the matter as the true basis of

its settlement. What I can urge is, that I am an exceptionally healthy

man, doing what I may fairly claim to be exceptionally hard work, and

careful in every respect of health, finding that a moderate quantity

of alcohol, with food, is for me better than total abstinence.

Whiskey, or alcohol, in its strong forms I never taste.

ANDREW WILSON.

Feb. 14, 1882.

MR. JUSTIN WINSER.

Referring to your note, I may say that I have never used stimulants

to incite intellectual work, but have found occasionally in social

gatherings a certain intellectual exhilaration arising from its use,

which conduces to quickness of wit, etc., but perhaps not so much from

alcoholic liquors as from coffee, a cup of coffee being with me a good

preparation for an after-dinner speech. My moderate use of a stimulant

has not disclosed to me beneficial or hurtful effects. I often go long

intervals without it; and have never indulged in it, to great extent,

so that my testimony is of a narrow experience. My use of tobacco is

so inconsiderable as to show nothing.

JUSTIN WlNSER.

March 9, 1882.

M. WURTZ,

PARIS.

In reply to your letter of the 7th February, I have the honour to

recall you the opinion which is current to-day among doctors of the

highest authority, namely, that the abuse of alcohol and tobacco

offers the greatest inconvenience from the point of view of health.

Alcoholism produces a state of disorder of the organism to which a

great number of maladies attach themselves. It is not a question of

the moderate use of excitants, but the limit between use and abuse is

difficult to trace, because it varies according to the country, the

climate, and the habits of the individual constitution.

A. WURTZ.

March 14, 1882.

APPENDIX.

DR. RISDON BENNETT.

"There are few people, I believe, who are aided in the actual

performance of brain-work by alcohol; not that many, nay, most

persons, are not rendered more ready and brilliant in conversation, or

have their imagination quickened for a time. But the steady, continued

exercise of the mental powers demanded of professional men is more

often impeded than aided at the time by alcohol."

_Contemporary Review_, vol. 34, p. 343.

THE REV. STOPFORD A. BROOKE, M. A.

"It has been said that moderate doses of alcohol stimulate work into

greater activity, and make life happier and brighter. My experience,

since I became a total abstainer, has been the opposite. I have found

myself able to work better. I have a greater command over any powers I

possess. I can make use of them when I please. When I call upon them,

they answer; and I need not wait for them to be in the humour. It is

all the difference between a machine well oiled and one which has

something, among the wheels which catches and retards the movement at

unexpected times. As to the pleasure of life, it has been also

increased. I enjoy Nature, books, and men more than I did--and my

previous enjoyment of them was not small. Those attacks of depression

which come to every man at times who lives too sedentary a life rarely

visit me now, and when depression does come from any trouble, I can

overcome it far more quickly than before. The fact is, alcohol, even

in the small quantities I took it, while it did not seem to injure

health, injures the fineness of that physical balance which means a

state of health in which all the world is pleasant. That is my

experience after four months of water-drinking, and it is all the more

striking to me, because for the last four or five years I have been a

very moderate drinker. However, the experience of one man is not that

of another, and mine only goes for what it is worth to those to whom,

as much alcohol as is contained in one glass of sherry, or port,

alters away from the standard of health. I have discovered, since

abstinence, that that is true of me. And I am sure, from inquiries, I

have made, that it is true for a great many other people who do not at

all suspect it. Therefore, I appeal to the young and the old, to try

abstinence for the very reasons they now use alcohol--in order to

increase their power of work and their enjoyment of life. Let the

young make the experiment of working on water only. Alcohol slowly

corrupts and certainly retards the activity of the brain of the

greater number of men. They will be able to do all they have to do

more swiftly. And this swiftness will leave them leisure--the blessing

we want most in this over-worked world. And the leisure, not being led

away by alcohol into idleness, into depression which craves unnatural

excitement, into noisy or slothful company, will be more nobly used

and with greater joy in the usage. And the older men, who find it so

difficult to find leisure, and who when they find it cannot enjoy it

because they have a number of slight ailments which do not allow them

perfect health, or which keep them in over-excitement or

over-depression, let them try--though it will need a struggle--whether

the total abandonment of alcohol will not lessen all their ailments,

and by restoring a better temper to the body--for the body with

alcohol in it is like a house with an irritable man in it--enable them

not only to work better, but to enjoy their leisure. It is not too

much to say that the work of the world would be one-third better done,

and more swiftly done, and the enjoyment of life increased by

one-half, if no one took a drop of alcohol."

Speech at Bedford Chapel,

July 20th, 1882.

WILLIAM C. BRYANT.

(BORN 1794; DIED 1878.)

I promised to give you some account of my habits of life, so far, at

least, as regards diet, exercise, and occupation. I have reached a

pretty advanced period of life, without the usual infirmities of old

age, and with my strength, activity, and bodily faculties generally in

pretty good preservation. How far this may be the effect of my way of

life, adopted long ago, and steadily adhered to, is perhaps uncertain.

I rise early, at this time of the year about 5 1/2; in summer, half an

hour, or even an hour, earlier. Immediately, with very little

incumbrance of clothing, I begin a series of exercises, for the most

part designed to expand the chest, and at the same time call into

action all the muscles and articulations of the body. These are

performed with dumb-bells, the very lightest, covered with flannel;

with a pole, a horizontal bar, and a light chair swung around my head.

After a full hour, and sometimes more, passed in this manner, I bathe

from head to foot. When at my place in the country, I sometimes

shorten my exercises in the chamber, and, going out, occupy myself for

half an hour or more in some work which requires brisk exercise. After

my bath, if breakfast be not ready, I sit down to my studies until I

am called.

My breakfast is a simple one--hominy and milk, or in place of hominy,

brown bread, or oat-meal, or wheaten grits, and, in the season, baked

sweet apples. Buckwheat cakes I do not decline, nor any other article

of vegetable food, but animal food I never take at breakfast. Tea and

coffee I never touch at any time. Sometimes I take a cup of chocolate,

which has no narcotic effect, and agrees with me very well. At

breakfast I often take fruit, either in its natural state or freshly

stewed.

After breakfast I occupy myself for awhile with my studies, and then,

when in town, I walk down to the office of _The Evening Post_,

nearly three miles distant, and after about three hours, return,

always walking, whatever be the weather or the state of the streets.

In the country I am engaged in my literary tasks till a feeling of

weariness drives me out into the open air, and I go upon my farm or

into the garden and prune the trees, or perform some other work about

them which they need, and then go back to my books. I do not often

drive out, preferring to walk.

In the country I dine early, and it is only at that meal that I take

either meat or fish, and of these but a moderate quantity, making my

dinner mostly of vegetables. At the meal which is called "tea," I take

only a little bread and butter, with fruit, if it be on the table. In

town, where I dine later, I make but two meals a day. Fruit makes a

considerable part of my diet, and I eat it at almost any part of the

day without inconvenience. My drink is water, yet I sometimes, though

rarely, take a glass of wine. I am a natural temperance man, finding

myself rather confused than exhilarated by wine. I never meddle with

tobacco, except to quarrel with its use.

That I may rise early, I, of course, go to bed early: in town, as

early as 10; in the country, somewhat earlier. For many years I have

avoided in the evening every kind of literary occupation which tasks

the faculties, such as composition, even to the writing of letters,

for the reason that it excites the nervous system and prevents sound

sleep.

My brother told me, not long since, that he had seen in a Chicago

newspaper, and several other Western journals, a paragraph in which it

is said that I am in the habit of taking quinine as a stimulant; that

I have depended upon the excitement it produces in writing my verses,

and that, in consequence of using it in that way, I had become as deaf

as a post. As to my deafness, you know that to be false, and the rest

of the story is equally so. I abominate all drugs and narcotics, and

have always carefully avoided every thing which spurs nature to

exertions which it would not otherwise make. Even with my food I do

not take the usual condiments, such as pepper, and the like.

March 30, 1871.

_Hygiene of the Brain_, New York, 1878.

DR. KING CHAMBERS,

HONORARY PHYSICIAN TO H. R. H. THE PRINCE OF WALES.

"The physiology of the action of alcohol has a very practical bearing

on the physical regimen of the mental functions. Alcohol has the power

of curbing, arresting, and suspending all the phenomena connected with

the nervous system. We feel its influence on our thoughts as soon as

on any other part of the man. Sometimes it brings them more completely

under our command, controls and steadies them; sometimes it confuses

or disconnects them; then breaks off our power and the action of the

senses altogether. The first effect is desirable, the others to be

avoided. When a man has tired himself with intellectual exertion a

moderate quantity of alcohol taken with food acts as an anaesthetic,

stays the wear of the system which is going on, and allows the nervous

force to be diverted to the due digestion of the meal. But it must be

followed by rest from mental labour, and is, in fact, a part of the

same regimen which enforces rest--it is an artificial _rest_. To

continue to labour and at the same time to take the anaesthetic is an

inconsistency. It merely blunts the painful feeling of weariness, and

prevents it from acting as a warning. I very much doubt the quickening

or brightening of the wits which bacchanalian poets have

conventionally attributed to alcohol. An abstainer in a party of even

moderate topers finds their jokes dull and their anecdotes pointless,

and his principal amusement consists in his observation of their

curious bluntness to the groundlessness of their merriment. There is

no more fatal habit to a literary man than that of using alcohol as a

stimulant between meals. The vital powers go on getting worn out more

and more without their cry for help being perceived, and in the end

break down suddenly, and often irrevocably. The temptation is greater

perhaps to a literary man than to any other in the same social

position, especially if he has been induced by avarice, or ambition,

to work wastefully against them; and if he cannot resist it, he had

better abjure the use of alcohol altogether.... Mental activity

certainly renders the brain less capable of bearing an amount of

alcohol, which in seasons of rest and relaxation does not injuriously

affect it. When any extraordinary toil is temporarily imposed, extreme

temperance, or even total abstinence, should be the rule. Much to the

point is the experience of Byron's Sardanapalus:--

"The _goblet_ I reserve for hours of ease, I war on

_water_."

"It is true that Byron assumes in his poetry the character of a

_debauche_, and says he wrote Don Juan under the influence of gin

and water. But much of that sort of talk is merely for stage effect,

and we see how industrious he was, and read of his training vigorously

to reduce corpulence, and of his being such an exceptionally

experienced swimmer as to rival Leander in crossing the Hellespont....

The machinery of sensitive souls is as delicate as it is valuable, and

cannot bear the rough usage which coarse customs inflict upon it. It

is broken to pieces by blows which common natures laugh at. The

literary man, with his highly-cultivated, tightly-strung sensations,

is often more than others susceptible of the noxious, and less

susceptible of the beneficial results of alcohol. His mind is easier

to cloud, and there is a deeper responsibility in clouding it....

Equally when we descend into the lower regions of Parnassus, the

abodes of talent and cleverness, and the supply of periodical literary

requirements, we find the due care of the body absolutely essential to

the continued usefulness of the intellect. The first thing to which

one entering the profession of literature must make up his mind is to

be healthy, and he can only be so by temperance.... Tobacco should not

be indulged in during working hours. Whatever physiological effect it

has is sedative, and so obstructs mental operations."

_Manual of Diet in Health and Disease_.

1876, p. 162.

PROFESSOR THOMAS R. FRASER, EDINBURGH.

"The stimulating action on the brain of quantities far short of

intoxicating, is accompanied with a paralysing action which seems most

rapidly and powerfully to involve the higher faculties. Mental work

may seem to be rendered more easy, but ease is gained at the expense

of quality. The editor of a newspaper will tell you that, if he has

been dining out, he cannot with confidence write a leading article until

he has allowed sufficient time to elapse from the effect of the wine

he has drunk, in moderation, to pass away; and even the novelist,

whose brain-work is in the regions of imagination, will relate a

similar experience.... In a person accustomed to the use of tobacco

the intellectual work is difficult when smoking cannot be indulged in,

the mind cannot easily be concentrated on a subject, and unrest is

produced--but this disappears when recourse is had to smoking; and

probably some of its reputation as a soothing agent has on this

account been acquired. The circulation is also a little excited, and

no doubt this assists in rendering brain work more easy. In a short

time, however, the circulation is slightly depressed, the pulse

becoming smaller; and this may assist in producing the soothing effect

generally experienced."

_The Use and Abuse of Alcoholic Stimulants and Tobacco_.

1881

HUBERT HERKOMER, A. R. A.

"It is no credit to me for being an abstainer. The credit is due to

my father, who gave up smoking, drinking, intoxicating drinks, and

eating meat at the same time, about twenty years ago; and as I was

only ten years old then, I naturally grew into my father's habits (I

now eat meat, however). The blessings of that reform have come down

upon my children."

Sherlock's _Heroes in the Strife_.

COLONEL THOMAS WENTWORTH HIGGINSON.

"I have been a busy worker with the brain all my life, and have

enjoyed very unusual health. I am now fifty-three, and have not been

confined to the house by illness since I was seventeen, except for a

short time during the war, when suffering from the results of a wound.

This favourable result I attribute to (1) a good constitution--and an

elastic temperament; (2) simple tastes, disinclining me to stimulants

and narcotics, such as tea, coffee, wine, spirits, and tobacco; (3) a

love of athletic exercises; (4) a life-long habit of writing by

daylight only; (5) the use of homoeopathic medicines in the early

stages of slight ailments. I have never been a special devotee of

health, I think, but have followed out my natural tastes; and have

certainly enjoyed physical life very much. It may be well to add that,

though, as I said, my constitution was good and my frame always large,

I had yet an unusual number of children's diseases, and have often

been told that my life was several times preserved, in infancy,

against all expectation, by the unwearied care and devotion of my

mother. This may encourage some anxious parents."

Nov. 11, 1877.

_Hygiene of the Brain_, N.Y., 1878.

WILLIAM HOWITT.

I have read with very great pleasure the letter of Mr. Bryant.... Let

me observe that while the modes of my own life and those of Mr. Bryant

very much accord, in a few particulars they differ, as, I suppose,

must be the case in almost any two individuals. Mr. Bryant never takes

coffee or tea. I regularly take both, find the greatest refreshment in

both, and never experienced any deleterious effects from either,

except in one instance, when, by mistake, I took a cup of tea strong

enough for ten men. On the contrary, tea is to me a wonderful

refresher and reviver. After long-continued exertion, as in the great

pedestrian journeys that I formerly made, tea would always, in a

manner almost miraculous, banish all my fatigue, and diffuse through

my whole frame comfort and exhilaration, without any subsequent evil

effect.

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