Stomachs weakened by the continued use of stimulants revolt at milk, which is the only food of most animals when young, and, as such, contains a large amount of nutriment, which is not the case with tea or coffee. I know a lady, the wife of one of Napoleon's marshals, who, for some complaint, was prescribed a milk diet. During a period of twenty years she has not taken an ounce of anything in the shape of food, having confined herself entirely to milk. Her health has been invariably good, and, though no longer young, can endure an excursion on foot over the mountains of Switzerland better than any of my female acquaintances. Does not this speak volumes in favour of milk as a diet for children or adults? At Gräfenberg, patients who cannot drink milk mix it with water until the stomach gains tone; others drink sour milk, and find it agree with them, when common milk would not: this is to be accounted for from the milk having already undergone the first process of fermentation, which process would otherwise have taken place in the stomach. Most new-comers to Gräfenberg have a strong prejudice against sour milk, which, after persevering in taking it for some time, generally ends in their liking it exceedingly. Sour milk, with sugar and strawberries, is delicious. Boiled milk, with bread broken in it, agrees with most people, and makes a nourishing meal. To those with whom milk alone does not agree, cocoa, with plenty of milk, is recommended as wholesome and economical. It has been observed by an able writer, that some people think that to live well means only to eat, and, it might be added, to drink. To hear that a man can enjoy the pleasures of the table, who refrains from wine and beer, and whose only beverage is water, appears paradoxical. Some go so far as to say that they prefer death to purchasing life on such terms, forgetting that a temporary indulgence at the table for a couple of hours may render them uncomfortable for the remainder of the twenty-four, and that the exciting, overcharging, and thickening of the blood, renders them hypochondriacal and morose, and makes invalids of men who ought to be in the enjoyment of robust health. It is hardly to be expected that nature will deal mercifully with him who has for so many years sinned against her mandates: she will, doubtless, sooner or later reward the crimes of _lèse majesté_ committed against her high prerogatives. "Nothing like the simple element dilutes The food, or gives the chyle so soon to flow." The _bon-vivant_, from the excited state of his system, is not only more subject to complaints than persons who live temperately, but is more difficult of cure. When overtaken with pain and illness, notwithstanding his stoicism in declaring for a short life and a merry one, no one desires to be restored to health with greater earnestness, or manifests a more ardent clinging to life than himself.