Daily experience tells us that the glass of wine taken with our dinner, or the thimble-full of _liqueur_ taken after dessert, diminishes the feeling of heaviness, and enables us sooner to go to work. Of indigestion and its accompanying sensations, we are unable to speak from experience; but Mr. Parton feelingly describes the effects of alcohol as follows. "When we have taken too much shad for breakfast, we find that a wineglass of whisky instantly mitigates the horrors of indigestion, and enables us again to contemplate the future without dismay." Now, if Mr. Parton's ideas on this subject were correct, his dose of whisky ought to exasperate his torment. The fact that it comforts him shows that it serves to quicken the too sluggish stomach to its normal activity. It is a very good clinical experiment indeed. Alcohol, however, aids digestion only when taken in moderate quantities. A narcotic dose, by paralyzing the medulla and the sympathetic, interferes with the flow of gastric juice. Here, as in most cases, the large quantity does just the reverse of what the small quantity will do. The same is true of food. Digestible food, in moderate amount, stimulates the gastric secretion; in excessive amount, it arrests its action. "Another curious fact is, that although the addition of organic acids increases the digestive power of this fluid, there is a limit at which this increase ceases, and beyond it, excess of acid suspends the whole digestive power."[12] It is therefore a wise thing to eat heartily, but a silly thing to eat voraciously; it is wise to eat pickles, but silly to make one's dinner of them; it is wise to drink a glass of sherry, but silly to empty the bottle. The happy mean is the thing to be maintained, in digestion as in every thing else. [12] Lewes, loc. cit.