From my birth up to within the past twelve months I have had the misfortune to be afflicted with one of the most dreadful diseases that flesh is heir to. It is one that entails suffering both to body and mind, and from which a vast proportion of humanity suffers in a more or less aggravated form. It is a slow and insidious disease that never decreases of its own accord, but on the contrary develops itself with one’s increasing years as surely as the most virulent cancer. It has this advantage, however, over this latter dreadful complaint—that it invariably yields to treatment conscientiously applied; but it has also this disadvantage, that, whereas other afflictions invariably enlist the sympathy of our fellow-creatures, this one never fails to be jeered and hooted at and turned into ridicule by the coarse and vulgar of our species. This complaint, surprising as it may appear, is held in contempt by most of the faculty, and I doubt whether it has ever received baptism in the English or any other pharmacopoeia. I will therefore without further preamble state, for the benefit of afflicted humanity, that it is called “obesity.” In the course of my remarks I may be led into the use of what may appear strong expressions; and if I should unwittingly offend the susceptibilities of any fat reader, he or she will, I trust, forgive it, as coming from one who has, as it were, gone through the mill, and been subjected to the like ridicule and the like temptations as themselves.

For thirty-eight years I’ve been a martyr to obesity. At my birth, as I am credibly informed, I was enormous—a freak of nature that was clearly intended for twins. As I developed into boyhood I still maintained the same pronounced pattern; and when I entered the Army as an ensign, it was said, with a certain amount of truth, that I was eighteen years of age and 18 stone in weight. I am particular in giving these otherwise uninteresting details, for I am aware from experience how fat people catch at every straw to evade a “regimen,” and invariably say as I did, “Nothing will make me thin,” “I’ve tried everything,” “It’s natural in our family,” “My father weighed nineteen stone,” &c., &c. I say to these people, “This is rubbish. I don’t care if your father weighed forty and your grandmother fifty stone; I’ll GUARANTEE to REDUCE you perceptibly and with PERFECT SAFETY if you’ll guarantee to follow my instructions.”

For the past fifteen years I’ve tried every remedy, with, however, the invariable result—that they did me no good, or at least so little that I came to the conclusion that the result did not repay the inconvenience. It must here be understood that when I refer to “remedies,” I do not speak of some that aspire to that title, which, if they don’t kill, don’t certainly cure; nor of others which will assuredly first cure and then as certainly kill—though I confess to have given even these a trial, and swallowed ingredients that don’t come well out of analysis. I would warn all zealous fat people to be careful of these concoctions, and at least consult a physician before saturating their systems with poisons. I do not even refer to other “remedies,” admittedly and which I have found safe, though before concluding my hints I shall have a word to say about them, and give my opinion of their respective titles to merit, on the principle that “a wink is as good as a nod to a blind horse.” In support of my claim to credence I may state that my appearance was known to almost everybody, many of whom have since seen me as I now am; and though I cannot produce testimonials from a corpulent clergyman in Australia who weighed 40 stone and now only 14, and never felt better in his life, nor from the fat Countess del Quackador, of Buenos Ayres, who attributes her recovery to the sole use of —, still I can produce myself, and seeing is usually admitted to be half way to believing. My theory is based on that of that excellent man and apostle of corpulency, the late Mr. Banting—a theory which, as propounded by him, was in a crude state, but, like all great discoveries, is capable of improvement based on experience. In short, I agree with him as a whole, but differ on many essential points. I felt, whilst practising his treatment, that something was wanting, and my experience has since discovered what that something is. Others like myself may have found the Banting theory deficient beyond a certain point. I would ask these to give mine a fair trial for three months.

Anyone who has waded through my narrative will observe that the dietary I subsisted on for some months of my life was in itself incapable of reducing a man; and it was thanks to the liberal margin I had to work upon, and the facilities I enjoyed for not only weighing myself, but also my food, that I attribute in a great measure the perfecting of my theory, and the reliance that may be placed on it. Banting lays down as a principle that “quantity may fairly be left to the natural appetite, provided the quality is rigidly adhered to.” In this I disagree with him, but on the contrary confidently assert that until the subject is reduced to its proper size, it is absolutely imperative to limit the quantity as well as the quality. The quantity, however, is a liberal one, both as regards solid and fluid. At the same time it must be remembered that great ignorance exists as to the weight of the commonest articles of dietary, and to form an estimate of their weight by their appearance can only be attained by experience. One often hears of persons that “don’t eat more than a bird,” and stout people are invariably accredited with being small eaters. It would astonish these persons to find that they consume in blissful ignorance three or four pounds a day. I would recommend every corpulent person to purchase a set of cheap scales capable of weighing accurately one, two, four, and eight ounces (an ounce is a word that conveys a diminutive impression, yet eight of them constitute half a pound); these can be procured at any ironmonger’s at a cost of two or three shillings. I would also suggest a half-pint measure; this involves an outlay of about twopence. Without these two articles no corpulent person’s house can be considered properly furnished. Before commencing the experiment it is indispensable to be accurately weighed, taking care to weigh all you have on (separately and at another time), so that your exact weight can be arrived at, whether attired in summer or winter clothing. By degrees this weekly weighing becomes an amusement, and one that increases as your weight decreases.

The following table may be accepted as fairly accurate, and shows what the respective natural weights of persons ought to be. I do not lay down a hard and fast rule, that in no case ought it to be exceeded. On the contrary, my theory, based on personal experience, convinces me that every person has his own peculiar weight and dimensions as intended by Nature, and when he has found his “bearings”—which he will have no difficulty in doing, as I shall explain hereafter, by unmistakable symptoms—any further reduction is attended with difficulty, and is, indeed, unnecessary. Taken, however, as something to work upon, the following scale, obtained from a leading insurance company, may be studied with advantage; and when the corpulent reader has arrived within half a stone of the specified weight—a generous concession surely—he may then, but not till then, begin to take occasional liberties, both as regards quantity and quality. I am offering these remarks to those only who conscientiously intend to give my theory a fair trial. To those lukewarm disciples who would like to be thin, without possessing the self-denial necessary for this most simple remedy, I cannot do better than apply the views I once heard expressed by a piper to a cockney officer in a Highland regiment who asked him to play the “Mabel” valse—that “it would only be making a fool of the tune and a fool of the pipes.”

When the reader has attained to within half a stone of these figures, he will have the game in his own hands, and can regulate his system with as much accuracy as a clock. On November 25th, 1881, I weighed the enormous weight of 19 stone 13 lbs. On October 1st, 1882, I weighed 12 stone 4 lbs., and with a loss of 18 inches in girth—i.e., a reduction of 7 stone 9 lbs.; and as this can be verified, my opinion is at least worthy of attention. I consider it absolutely necessary that one should at first limit one’s self to 2 pounds solid and 3 pints fluid daily; and I cannot do better than give the dietary I have pursued for the past five or six months in the south of France:—

At 6 A.M.—I take half-a-pint of black coffee and one ounce of coarse brown bread or biscuit.At 9 A.M.—I breakfast off four ounces of lean meat, three ounces of brown bread or biscuit, and half-a-pint of black coffee.

At 2 P.M.—I have six ounces lean meat, three ounces brown bread or biscuit, six ounces green vegetables, and half-a-pint of any fluid except ale, effervescing wines, or aËrated waters.

After Dinner—I take half-a-pint of coffee.

At 6 P.M.—I take half-a-pint of coffee.

At Supper—I have two ounces brown bread or biscuit, and a couple of glasses of sherry or claret.

Independently of this I eat fruit ad lib. I find as a broad rule that all vegetables that grow above ground, such as cauliflower, artichokes, sprouts, &c. (except peas and rice), are conducive to health; whereas all that grow underground, such as potatoes, carrots, beet-root, &c., are fat persons’ poison. It is immaterial what meat one eats, whether fish, flesh—except pork—or fowl, but it is necessary to avoid the fat. Stout persons will find, as I did, an inclination to smuggle in a little, but they must flee from the temptation. A severe trial at first is confining one’s self to this quantity and quality, whilst others are indulging to a greater extent at the same table; but the feeling soon wears off, and must be looked on as the penalty attached to Pharaoh’s fat kine. Fat people never consider that if they were suffering from a cancer they would not hesitate to submit to amputation—and amputation is not unattended with pain—to prolong life; and yet they waver regarding the treatment of corpulency—an equally certain enemy to life—with a painless remedy! Do they invariably also, in other paths of life, return good for evil, and heap coals of fire on an enemy’s head? And yet here is a hideous, ungainly, deadly foe pampered and fattened at the cost of life, comfort, and appearance. And then the ridicule! I ask you, amiable fat reader, is that agreeable? I would, in fact, make obesity penal, as calling for special legislation, whereby the police would be justified in arresting oleaginous pedestrians, clapping them into the scales at the nearest police-station, and if they exceeded a certain number of feet in circumference, or weight, at once procure their summary imprisonment, without the option of a fine. The streets would thus be cleared of these fleshy obstructions; besides which, if the law recognises attempted suicide as a crime in one way, why not in another? The dietary I have suggested is conducive to constipation, a result that brown bread remedies considerably, if not entirely removes. There are brown breads and brown breads, however, and after trying a good many, I have come to the conclusion that the “whole meal bread” made by Messrs. Hill and Son, of 60, Bishopsgate Street Within, and 3, Albert Mansions, Victoria Street, is admirably adapted to the requirements of the corpulent. It keeps the bowels open, is delicious in flavour, and entirely free from the alum that finds its way into many other kinds. Some six months ago I had an interview with a member of this firm, and explained my views of the advantages that would attend a biscuit made of the same meal. I have lately tasted some made by them, that are apparently specially adapted for the consumption of the corpulent; and as they have agents in every part of the kingdom, the regular supply is within the reach of all. I strongly commend these to all my readers. There is one more item to which I attach great importance, namely, the taking at bed-time of one teaspoonful of liquorice-powder (German Pharmacopoeia) in half a tumbler of water. This quantity may be gradually increased, as circumstances seem to require; and as a good deal depends on the purity and freshness of this drug, the advisability of going to a good chemist cannot be too strongly urged. I have often been told that smoking is injurious to the corpulent, but this I consider sheer nonsense. I smoke from morning to night, and, on the contrary, believe it makes up for the larger amount of food one had previously been in the habit of consuming. In America, where I spent many happy years, I was never without “a smoke,” a habit I still continue, though with the disadvantage of having to substitute British for the fragrant Oronoko and Perique tobaccos. This latter is, in my estimation, whether used as cigar, cigarette, or in a pipe, the finest tobacco in the world. I have discovered, beyond doubt, that a person afflicted with obesity is affected by the smallest transgression of the strict regimen. I have for experiment taken one lump of sugar in my coffee at meals, and found that this single innovation has produced an increase of a pound in my weight in a week; indeed, a person disposed to this affliction is as sensitive as an aneroid. It was in May last that I first determined to reap at least one benefit from my late incarceration, and, by a careful regard to quantity and quality, to test effects that my position and the time at my disposal offered great facilities for, and thus reduce corpulency to a science, and its reduction to a certainty. A reference to other portions of this narrative will put it beyond a doubt that the unlimited amount of food at my disposal made this an easy task. I will not here go into these particulars, as a detailed account necessary for the unbroken interest in my narrative will be found elsewhere, but will confine myself to giving a table of the reduction I made in myself by my own free-will and determination.

Making a total loss of 107 lbs. (7 stone 9 lbs.) in 318 days. This loss was not obtained without great determination and self denial, but was it not worth it? If any corpulent reader could see my photograph of November, 1881, and November, 1882, he would, I think, admit it was, and receive a stimulus to persevere as I did. A reference to the above table will show no diminution between June 20th and July 2nd. I attribute this to my having found what I call my “bearings,” for though continuing in the same course, I could not get away from 15 stone 8 lbs. I persisted, however, and eventually succeeded; and the next date shows a steady decline. I would recommend no experimentalist to transgress this bound, and when they find that after a fortnight’s continuance of the strict system they have obtained no perceptible diminution of weight they should STOP; they have found their “bearings,” and any further perseverance is attended with unnecessary inconvenience. The time, however, has then come for most careful watch and guard, and the slightest liberty is accompanied by a proportionate increase. Yielding to the kindly meant advice of friends, I some months ago took new milk and other fattening luxuries, with the result of increasing a stone in six weeks. I had, however, the remedy in my own hands, and can now play fast and loose with an amusing degree of certainty. I can, without an effort, reduce or increase my weight three or four pounds in a week, and having attained the comfortable weight of 13 stone 10 lbs, I am determined never again to turn the scale beyond 14 stone. I allow this margin as the legitimate perquisite of advancing years.

In conclusion, I guarantee reduction with perfect safety to all who will honestly try the following regimen in its integrity for three months:—

Breakfast—Eight ounces coarse brown bread (yesterday’s baking); four ounces lean meat; one pint coffee or other fluid.

Dinner.—Four and a-half ounces brown bread; six ounces any lean meat (or, if preferred as an occasional substitute, half-pint of soup—ten ounces); six ounces green vegetables; one pint fluid.

Tea.—One and a-half ounces brown bread; half a pint of coffee.

Supper.—One or two glasses of wine, or a glass of spirit and water (except rum); and two ounces biscuit.

Total.—Two pounds solid and three pints fluid.Bed-time.—One teaspoonful liquorice powder (German pharmacopoeia) in half a tumbler of water.

I have parcelled the above out into meals to meet the ordinary taste, though it is quite immaterial how or when the quantity is taken. It is, moreover, a matter of perfect indifference whether tea (no sugar or milk), claret, or, in fact, any other fluid (except ale and aËrated or effervescing drinks), is substituted for coffee.

The principal points on which I differ from the so-called “Banting” system are:—

(a) The limiting of the quantity till a proper reduction has taken place.

(b) The occasional substituting (if desired) of soup for meat, which I have found attended with no inconvenience.

(c) The substitution of brown bread or brown biscuit for toast or rusk—thereby obviating constipation.

(d) The taking of liquorice powder at bed-time in lieu of the alkaline on rising.

To the uninitiated the above may appear trifles; their advantage can only be estimated by those who have tried both systems.