Of alcoholic liquors it is impossible to speak so favourably. They are made use of, indeed, almost as extensively as tea or coffee; they have been made the theme of the poet, and hailed as the emblems of all that is genial and convivial. Yet there can be little doubt that, when a balance is struck between the good and evil which have resulted to man from their use, the latter is found largely to preponderate. The consideration of these evils belongs, however, rather to the moralist than to the physiologist. I have here simply to consider alcoholic liquors as articles of food. There can be little doubt that, when used with caution and judgment, they afford in certain cases an important adjunct to those articles which are directly applied to the reparation of bodily waste. Without absolutely nourishing the frame, they ultimately lead to this end by encouraging the digestive processes which result in the assimilation of nutritive articles of food. But the quantity of alcohol necessary to effect this is far less than is usually taken even by persons who are termed temperate. It is also certain that hundreds make use of alcoholic liquors who have no necessity for them, and who would be better without them. Those who require them most are men who lead a studious sedentary life; and it is such men, also, who suffer most from excess in the use of alcoholic liquors. It remains that I should make a few remarks on mistakes respecting the quantity of food. Some persons fall into the habit of taking an excessive quantity of food, not from greediness, but from the idea that a large amount of food is necessary for the maintenance of their strength. They thus overtax the digestive organs, and not only fail of their purpose, but weaken instead of strengthening the system. Especially serious is the mistake often made by persons in delicate health of swallowing—no other word can be used, for the digestive organs altogether refuse to respond to the action of the mouth—large quantities of some concentrated form of food, such as even the strongest stomach could not deal with in that form. I knew a person who, though suffering from weakness such as should have suggested the blandest and simplest forms of food, adopted as a suitable breakfast mutton-chops and bottled stout, arguing, when remonstrated with, that he required more support than persons in stronger health. He was simply requiring his weak digestive organs to accomplish work which would have taxed the digestive energies of the most stalwart labourer working daily in the open air for many hours.