portant part in the "fall of man" from that higher estate, the
Eden without its dyspepsia.

What shall we eat? The fig-leaved savage under his bread-fruit tree, the
fur-clad Eskimo in his ice-hut, need not be asked: the needed food is in
all due supply with little cost of muscle and less of mind--and he has
no mental condition that can disturb the digestion.

The simpler waste-restoring foods have a flavor of their own that needs
little reinforcement if developed by due mastication and with adequate
hunger. In my own case butter duly salted seems to be my only natural
appetizer aside from hunger; and yet I must own that at times new honey
has a wonderful effect on the mouth-glands.

The difference between eating from hunger and mere relish, as fruits and
the various sweetened foods are eaten, is a new study in dietetics, and
one more important can scarcely be conceived. It can hardly be
intelligently studied without taking into due account this new
physiology. With rarest exceptions the need of food is estimated by the
mere pleasure that comes from relish--that kind of relish that is
evolved from the pies, puddings, ice creams, the last course in Sunday
dinners, never taken until the limits of stomach expansion are nearly
reached.

X.

Some of the external evidences of that general regeneration which comes
through Nature will now be given. We will study the human face as we
study the earth when the favoring conditions of Spring rouse all Nature
to newness of life. The face shall be our human landscape.

I select a face in which the eyes are dull from debility, in which there
is no sparkle of soul, and beneath are the dark venus-hanging clouds.
The face has a dull, lifeless cast; the veins are all enlarged from
debility, and cover the larger arteries as with a mourner's pall, save
where there are patches as of clouds on fire, where disease of the skin
enlivens the drear landscape. There are pimples large and small, some
with overflowing volcanoes; there are no lines of expression: these are
changed to lines of morbid anatomy. We listen, and there are no echoes
of departed joys; look as we will, and we see no evidence of the
existence of a soul.

The ultimate of this picture is death from unrecognized suicide; death,
a slow dying to every sense that made life worth living. There is this
about these deaths that go on through the months and years: they
exaggerate the worst instincts of the soul as it is drag