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diff --git a/old/69859-0.txt b/old/69859-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 1ff85fb..0000000 --- a/old/69859-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,17193 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of Table Traits, with something on them, -by Dr. John Doran - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: Table Traits, with something on them - -Author: Dr. John Doran - -Release Date: January 22, 2023 [eBook #69859] - -Language: English - -Produced by: Susan Skinner, Krista Zaleski and the Online Distributed - Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was - produced from images generously made available by The - Internet Archive) - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TABLE TRAITS, WITH SOMETHING -ON THEM *** - - - - - - - TABLE TRAITS, - - WITH - - SOMETHING ON THEM. - - BY - - DR. DORAN. - - “Je suis aujourd’hui en train de conter; plaise à Dieu que cela ne - soit pas une calamité publique.”--BRILLAT SAVARIN. - - LONDON: - - RICHARD BENTLEY, NEW BURLINGTON STREET; - - OLIVER & BOYD, EDINBURGH; HODGES & SMITH, DUBLIN; - - AND TO BE HAD OF ALL BOOKSELLERS, AND AT THE RAILWAY STATIONS. - - 1854. - - - - - LONDON: - - R. CLAY, PRINTER, BREAD STREET HILL. - - - - - TO - - THE RIGHT HONOURABLE - - HENRY, EARL OF HAREWOOD, - - IN GRATEFUL MEMORY OF BY-GONE - - HAPPY YEARS, - - THIS VOLUME IS INSCRIBED - - BY - - THE AUTHOR. - - - - -BILL OF FARE. - - - PAGE - - The Legend of Amphitryon--a Prologue 1 - - Diet and Digestion 9 - - Water 14 - - Breakfast 26 - - Materials for Breakfast 31 - - Corn, Bread, &c. 36 - - Tea 48 - - Coffee 57 - - Chocolate 64 - - The Old Coffee Houses 67 - - The French Cafés 80 - - The Ancient Cook and his Art 86 - - The Modern Cook and his Science 99 - - Pen and Ink Sketch of Carême 114 - - Dinner Traits 123 - - The Materials for Dining 136 - - A Light Dinner for two 169 - - Sauces 190 - - The Parasite 219 - - Table Traits of Utopia and the Golden Age 230 - - Table Traits of England in the Early Times 244 - - Table Traits of the Last Century 260 - - Wine and Water 282 - - The Birth of the Vine, and what has come of it 287 - - The Making and Marring of Wine 303 - - Imperial Drinkers and Incidents in Germany 312 - - An Incident of Travel 313 - - A few odd Glasses of Wine 324 - - The Tables of the Ancient and Modern Egyptians 341 - - The Diet of Saints of Old 353 - - The Bridal and Banquet of Ferques 372 - - The Support of Modern Saints 377 - - The Cæsars at Table 394 - - Their Majesties at Meat 412 - - English Kings at their Tables 442 - - Strange Banquets 467 - - The Castellan Von Coucy 473 - - Authors and their Dietetics 487 - - The Liquor-loving Laureates 508 - - Supper 513 - - - - -TABLE TRAITS, - -WITH SOMETHING ON THEM. - - - - -THE LEGEND OF AMPHITRYON. - -A PROLOGUE. - -“_Le véritable Amphitryon est l’Amphitryon où l’on dîne._”--MOLIÈRE. - - -Among well-worn illustrations and similes, there are few that have -been more hardly worked than the above line of Poquelin-Molière. It is -a line which tells us pleasantly enough, that he who sits at the head -of a table is among those “respectable” powers who find an alacrity -of worship at the hands of man. I say, “at the hands;” for what is -“adoration” but the act of putting the hand to the mouth (as expressed -by its components _ad_ and _os_, _oris_)? and what worship is so common -as that which takes this form, especially when the Amphitryon is -amiable, and his altar well supplied? - -But such a solution of the question affords us, after all, no -enlightenment as to the mystery of the reality of Amphitryon himself, -whose name is now worn, and sometimes usurped, by those who preside -at modern banquets. Was he real? is he a myth? was he ever in the -body? or is his name that of a shadow only, employed for purposes of -significance? If real, whence came he? What does classic story say of -the abused husband of Alcmena? - -Amphitryon was a Theban gentleman, who had two nephews, fast young -men, who were slain by the Teleboans. This is a myth. They were -extravagant individuals, of the class of those who count the chimes -at midnight. Their father could not help them; and so the uncle, a -bachelor, was expected to do his avuncular office, spend his substance -for the benefit of his brother’s children, and get small thanks for -his trouble. His brother, however, had an article of small value,--a -daughter, named Alcmena; and this lady was given in marriage to her -uncle, without any scruple about the laws of affinity. As soon as the -ceremony of the betrothal was over, Amphitryon departed to punish the -Teleboans; and he had not been long absent, when Jupiter presented -himself in the likeness of the absent husband, set up a household with -the readily-convinced Alcmena, and became the father of Hercules. When -Amphitryon returned, his surprise was natural, and his ill-temper -not to be wondered at. But Jupiter explained the imbroglio in a very -cavalier way, as was his custom, and which they who are curious may see -in the liveliest of the lively comedies of the miller’s man, Plautus. - -An incident connected with the story shows us that Amphitryon, fond of -good living generally, and of beef in particular, made a razzia among -the Teleboan herds, and brought back all the cows and oxen he found -amongst them. He was exhibiting the cattle to his brother Electryon, -when one of the animals strayed from the herd; and Amphitryon, in -order to bring it back, flung a stick at it, but with such violence, -that the weapon, falling on the horns, rebounded as violently upon -Electryon, who died upon the spot. But this, too, is a myth; and I have -no doubt but that Electryon died of indigestion; for the Teleboan beef -was famous for its toughness. Indeed, many of the Teleboës themselves -were so disgusted with it, that they abandoned their Ætolian homes, and -settled in the island of Capreæ. - -The Egyptians claim Amphitryon for their own. They boast that his -dinners at Memphis were divine, and that Hercules, his son, was among -the last-born of the gods; for Hercules was more than a hero among -the leek-worshippers of Egypt. But the truth is, that the story of -Amphitryon, his strength, his good fare, and his hard fate, belongs -to a more distant period and land. It is a Hindoo story, the actors -are children of the sun, and Voltaire declares that the tale is to -be found in Dow’s “Hindostan;” but that is as much of a fable as the -legend itself of Amphitryon, whose name, by the way, may be as easily -“Indicized” as that of Pythagoras. - -In Scotland, the crime of child-stealing is distinguished by the title -of “plagiary;” and an instance of the latter is here before us. When -Plautus sat in his master’s mill, and thought over the subject of his -lively comedy, founded on the story of Amphitryon, he took for granted -all that he had been told of his hero’s birth and parentage. But the -classical Amphitryon is, as I have said, but a stolen child. His home -is in the far East; and his history was calling up smiles upon the -faces of listeners by the Indus long before the twin founders of Rome -had been intrusted, by their nurse Lupa, to walk alone. The Hindoo -Amphitryon was a fellow of some renown, and here is his story. - -A Hindoo, whose name, indeed, has not descended to us,--but he was the -individual whom the Greeks stole, and called Amphitryon,--lived many -years ago. He was remarkable for his gigantic strength and stature; and -he not only found the former a good thing to possess, but he used it -_like_ a giant. He had for the wife of his bosom a fair, but fragile, -girl, who lay in his embrace, as she sang to him at sunset, “like Hebe -in Hercules’ arms.” It was not often, however, that such passages -of peace embellished the course of their daily life. The Hindoo was -jealous, and his little wife was coquettish. The lady had smiles for -flatterers; and her monster of a husband had a stick, which showered -blows upon her when he detected her neglecting her household work. -Cudgelling took its turn with caressing, as it did in the more modern, -and consequently more vulgar, case of Captain Wattle and Miss Roe; and -finally there was much more of the first than there was of the last. -One summer eve, the husband, in a fit of frantic jealousy, assaulted -his wife so ferociously, that he left her insensible on the threshold -of their house, and threatened never again to keep up a _ménage_ with -so incorrigible a partner. - -A Hindoo deity, of an inferior order,--not the King of gods and men, -as in the Grecian legend,--had witnessed the whole proceeding from -his abiding place in a neighbouring cloud. He smiled as the husband -disappeared; and, gradually descending in his little palace to the -ground, he lightly leaped on to the firm set earth, gave a hurried -glance at the unconscious and thickly-bruised beauty, and then, in -testimony of his ecstatic delight, he clapped his hands, and commenced -revolving on one leg, as D’Egville used to do, when Venua’s violin led -the orchestra, and gave him strength. - -The spirit, having subsided into repose, thought for a while, and -speedily arrived at a resolution. It infused itself into a human -body, which was found without difficulty, and it clothed the whole -under the counterfeit presentment of the errant husband. These feats -of transmutation were common among the eastern deities; and I take -for granted that my readers are aware that Pythagoras himself--who is -connected with Table Traits, on the subject of beans--was no other -than Buddha Goroos, who slipped into a vacant body, and taught the -metempsychosis to wondering Europe. - -The wife of the Hindoo giant was something astonished, on recovering -herself, to find that she was seated, without any sense of pain, on -a bench in the little garden, with her apparent husband at her feet, -pouring out protestations of love and assurances of fidelity. She -accepted all, without questioning; for it was all too pleasant to be -refused. A new life commenced. The married pair became the admiring -theme of the village; and when a son was born to them, there ensued -such showers of felicitations and flowers as had never fallen upon -married lovers since the Hindoo world first started on its career, on -the back of the self-supporting elephant. Their moon never ceased to -shed honey; and this was flowing, sweetly and copiously as ever, when, -one sultry noon, the vagrant husband returned home, and, confronting -the counterfeit at an inner door, bitterly satirized the vanity of -women who indulged in capricious tempers and Psyche glasses. In -an instant, however, he was conscious that his other self was not -a reflection, but only the cause of many that began crowding into -the brain of the true man. The cool complacency of the counterfeit -irritated the bewildered and legitimate husband, and an affray ensued, -in which the mortal got all the blows, and his rival all the advantage. -The wife was herself perplexed, but manifested a leaning towards the -irresistible divinity. In vain did the gigantic original roar forth the -tale of his wrongs, and claim his undoubted rights; and it was only -during a lull in the storm that he heeded a suggestion made, to the -effect, that all the parties should submit their case to the judgment -of an inspired Brahmin. - -This eminent individual speedily perceived that, of the double-man that -stood before him, one was a dupe, and the other a deity,--something, -at all events, above humanity. The question was, how to discover the -divinity. After much cogitation, this was the judgment pronounced -by the dusky Solomon: “Madam,” said he to the perplexed lady, “your -husband was known as being the most robust man ever made out of the -red earth, of which was composed the father of us all. Now, let these -two litigants salute you on the lips; and we pronounce him to be the -true man who comes off with the loudest report.” The trial took place -forthwith in presence of the assembled multitude. The Indian mortal -first approached the up-raised lips of his wife; and he performed -the required feat with an echo that was as half a hundred culverins -to the “pistol-shot” kiss recorded of Petruchio. The Judge and the -people looked curiously to the defendant, as wondering how, on the -pretty instrument before him, he could strike a note higher than his -rival. The Indian god addressed him to what seemed a rose-bud wet with -dew; and therewith ensued a sound as though all the artillery of the -skies were saluting, too, in honour of the achievement. The multitude -and the Brahmin looked, for all the world, as if they had lost their -hearing; and it was calculated that the astounding din might have -been heard by the slumbering tortoise below the antipodes. At length, -the assembly hailed the deity as the undoubted Simon Pure, and looked -towards the Brahmin for confirmation of their award; but the Brahmin -merely remarked to them, with urbanity, that they were the sons and -fathers of asses, and were unable to distinguish between the almost -invisible seed which diets the bird of Paradise, and the gigantic palm -of the garden of the gods, each leaf of which is of such extent that an -earthly courser, at his utmost speed, could not traverse it in fifty -millions of mortal-measured years. “Here is the true husband,” added -the Judge, putting his hand upon the shoulder of the Indian, “who has -done all that human being, in the particular vocation required, could -do; and here,” added he, turning reverentially to the other, “is some -supreme being, who has been pleased to amuse himself at the expense of -his servants.” - -The god smiled, and confessed to the excellence of the Judge’s -perspicuity by revealing himself in his true, and somewhat operatic, -form. He ascended the cloud, which appeared in waiting for him like -an aërial cab, and, looking from over its side, laughingly bade the -edified multitude farewell, adding, that he was the deity appointed to -preside at tables that were not ungraced by the fair;--and, “if these -have a cause for complaint, it is my privilege to avenge them according -to my good pleasure.” The ladies thereupon flung flowers to him as he -rose, and the husbands saluted his departure with rather faint cheers; -but throughout India, while orthodoxy lasted, there never was a table -spread, but the master thereat, prince or peasant, invoked the Hindoo -deity to cast the beams of the sun of his gaiety upon the board. -Heresy, however, in this matter, has crept in; and, if Hindoo feasts -lack real brilliancy, it is because the sunlight of the god no longer -beams from the eyes of the fair, who are no longer present sharers -in the banquet. It is otherwise in Europe, whither, perhaps, the god -came, and aped Jupiter, as well as Amphitryon, when he perplexed the -household of Alcmena. He sits presiding at our feast, ensconced within -a rose; from thence his smiles urge to enjoyment, and the finger on his -lip to discretion; and every docile guest whispers _sub rosâ_, and -acknowledges the present god. - -It is said, in India, that this divinity was the one who gave men diet, -but forgot digestion. It was like giving them philosophical lectures, -without power to understand them; and the case is still common enough -upon earth. These subjects demand brief notice, were it only by way of -appendix to this prolegomenical chapter. - - - - -DIET AND DIGESTION. - -“No digest of law’s like the law of digestion.”--MOORE. - - -Our good neighbours the French, or rather, the philosophers among them, -have asserted that the perfecting of man and his species depends upon -attention to diet and digestion; and, in a material point of view, they -are not far wrong; and, indeed, in a non-material point of view, it may -be said that the spirit, without judgment, is very likely to be exposed -to indigestion; and perhaps ignorance complete is to be preferred to an -ill-digested erudition. With diet and patience, Walpole thought all the -diseases of man might be easily cured. Montesquieu, on the other hand, -held that health purchased by rigorously watching over diet, was but a -tedious disease. But Walpole was nearly correct, while Montesquieu was -not very distant from the truth. Dieting, like other things, must be -undertaken on common-sense principles; for, though there be multitudes -of mad people in the world, society generally is not to be put upon the -_régime_ of “Bedlam.” - -We live, not by what we eat, but by what we digest; and what one man -may digest, another would die of attempting. Rules on this subject are -almost useless. Each man may soon learn the powers of his stomach, in -health or disease, in this respect; and this ascertained, he has no -more business to bring on indigestion than he has to get intoxicated -or fall into debt. He who offends on these three points, deserves to -forfeit stomach, head, and his electoral franchise! - -Generally speaking, fat and spices resist the digestive power; and too -much nutritious food is the next evil to too little. Good cookery, by -developing flavour, increases the nutritiousness of food, which bad -cookery would perhaps render indigestible. Hence a good cook rises to -the dignity of “artist.” He may rank with the chemists, if not with the -physicians. - -Animal food, of mild quality, is more digestible than vegetable, and -fresh meats are preferable to salted. In the latter the salt is a -different composition from that which is taken at meals, and which -is indispensable to health. Fish fills rather than feeds; but there -are exceptions to this. Vegetables are accounted as doing little to -maintain stamina; but there have been races and classes of men who -have been heroes upon bread, fruit, and vegetables. The poor cannot -live upon “curry,” it is true; but in England, with less drink and -more vegetable food, they would be an improved race. Not that they -could live like a Lazzaroni on maccaroni and the open air. Layard says -the Bedouin owes his health and strength to his spare diet. But even -a Bedouin swallows lumps of butter till he becomes bilious; and were -he to live in England instead of the desert, he would not keep up his -strength by living on the dishes which support him in Arabia Felix. -The golden rule is “moderation and regularity.” He who transgresses -the rule, will pay for it by present suffering and a “check” after -Christmas. - -A false hunger ought not to be soothed, nor a false thirst to be -satisfied; for satisfaction here is only adding fuel to a fire that -would otherwise go out. On the other hand, the bilious and sedentary -man need not be afraid of beer; it is a better stomachic than wine. -For him, and for all lords of that heritage of woe, a weak stomach, -the common-sense system of cookery, as it is called, is most required. -It is something between the hard crude system of the English, and the -juice-extracting method of the French; with a leaning, however, towards -the latter, (with whom it is common to reduce food to a condition of -pulp,) but uniting with it so much of the English custom as allows the -gelatinous matter to be retained, especially in the meats. “_Festina -lente_,” is “_Latin de cuisine_,” for “Eat slowly,” and it is of -first-rate value. He who does so, gives best chance for healthy chyle; -and that wanting, I should like to know where the _post-prandial_ -enjoyment would be. Without it, digestion is not; and when digestion is -away, Death is always peering about to profit by his absence. “See to -it!” as the Chinese “chop” says. - -There are upwards of seventeen hundred works extant on the subject of -diet and digestion. Sufferers may study the question till they are -driven mad by doubt and dyspepsia, and difference of opinions among the -doctors. Fordyce saw no use in the saliva, and Paris maintains that -without it digestion is not. “_Quot homines, tot sententiæ_,” is as -applicable here as in every other vexed question. But Paris’s book on -Diet is the safest guide I know for a man who, being dyspeptic, wants -to cure himself, or simply to discover the definement of his degree -of suffering. On the other hand, every man may find comfort in the -reflection, that with early hours, abundant exercise, generous diet, -but not too much of it, and occupation,--without which a worse devil -than the former enters on possession of the victim,--dyspepsia cannot -assume a chronic form. It may be a casual visitor, but it will be the -easiest thing possible to get rid of him. But philosophy has said as -much from the beginning, and yet dyspepsia prevails and physicians ride -in carriages. Exactly! and why? Because philosophers themselves, like -the Stoic gentleman in Marmontel, after praising simplicity of living, -sink to sleep, on heavy suppers and beds of down, with the suicidal -remark, that “_Le Luxe est une jolie chose._” - -We must neither act unreservedly on the _dictum_ of books, nor copy -slavishly the examples of others, if we would have the digestion -in a healthy condition. There is a self-monitor that may safely be -consulted. Of his existence there can be no doubt; for every man who -wakes with a headache most ungratefully blames that same monitory -“self.” - -If any class may fairly complain of others in this respect, rather -than of themselves, it is the “babies.” The Rajpoots do not slay half -so many of their infants out of pride, as we do by indiscreet dieting; -or, to speak plainly, over-feeding. The New Zealand mother is not more -foolish, who thrusts stones down the throat of her babe, in order to -make him a stern and fearless warrior, and only mars him for a healthy -man. And Christian matrons have been quite as savage without intending -it. Brantome’s uncle, Chastargnerage, was no sooner weaned than, by the -advice of a Neapolitan physician, he took gold, steel, and iron, (in -powders,) mixed up with all he ate and drank. This regimen he followed -until he was twelve years old, by which time (we are asked to believe) -it had so strengthened him that he could stop a wild bull in full -course. This diet, however, seems little likely to have produced such -an effect. As soon might one expect that the Bolton ass, which chewed -tobacco and took snuff, was made swift as a race-horse by so doing. -I think that it is of Dean Nowell it is said, that he grew strong by -drinking ale. He was the accidental inventor of bottled ale. He was -out fishing with a bottle of the freshly-drawn beverage at his side, -when intelligence reached him touching the peril his life was in, under -Mary, which made him fly, after flinging away his rod, and thrusting -his bottle of ale under the grass. When he could again safely resort -to the same spot, he looked for his bottle, which, on being disturbed, -drove out the cork like a pellet from a gun, and contained so creamy a -fluid, that the Dean, noting the fact, and rejoicing therein, took care -to be well provided with the same thenceforward. As Henry II. was the -first King who acted as sewer, and placed the boar’s head on the table -of his young son, just crowned, so Dean Nowell was the first church -dignitary who laid the foundation of red noses, by bringing bottled ale -to the notice of the clergy. There is an old tradition, that what this -ale used to do for churchmen, cider used to effect for Africans. - -As we have said, “moderation” is the first principle of digestion; -and as, according to the Latin proverb, “water gives moderation,” it -behoves us to look for a few minutes into the much praised, and little -appreciated, _aqua pura_. - - - - -WATER. - - -A Kentucky man, who was lately at one of the great tables in an hotel -in the States, where the bill of fare was in French, after sorely -puzzling himself with descriptions which he could not comprehend, -“_cotelettes à la Maintenon_” and “_œufs à la braise_;” exclaimed, “I -shall go back to first principles: give me some roast beef!” So, after -speaking of the birth of him, whose putative father has lent a name -to liberal hosts, let us also fall back upon first principles, and -contemplate the uses of water. - -There is nothing in nature _more_ useful; but, commonly speaking, -you can neither buy any thing with it, nor get any article for it in -exchange. Adam Smith strikingly compares with it the uselessness and -the value of a diamond: the latter has scarcely any value in use, but -much that is valuable may be had in exchange for it. In the desert a -cup full of water is worth one full of diamonds; that is, in certain -emergencies. The diamond and the water illustrate the difference -between value in use and value in exchange. - -If water be not, according to Pindar and the legend over the Bath -Pump-Room, the best of things, few things would attain to excellence -without it. Greek philosophy was not wrong which made it the principle -of life, and the popular belief scarcely erred in seeing in every -stream, spring, and fountain a resident deity. Water was so reverenced -by certain ancient nations, that they would never desecrate it by -purifying themselves therewith! The ancient Persians and Cappadocians -exemplified their devotion by personal dirtiness. In presence of -the visible power of the stream, altars were raised, and adoration -paid to the god whose existence was evidenced by such power. The -Egyptians gave their divine river more than prayers, because their -dependence on it was more absolute than that of other nations on their -respective streams. The Nile, swelling beneficently, bestowed food, -health, and therewith content on the Egyptians; and they, in return, -flung gratefully into the stream corn, sugar, and fruit. When human -sacrifices were made to rivers, it was probably because the river was -recognised as giving life, and was worthy of being paid in kind. We may -smile superciliously at this old reverence for the “liquid good,” but -there was connected therewith much that we might profitably condescend -to copy. Greece had her officers appointed to keep her streams pure. -Had those officials exposed the people to drink such indescribable -matter as we draw from the Thames, they would have been thrown into it -by popular indignation. In Rome, Ancus Martius was long remembered, not -for his victories, but for his care to supply the city with salubrious -and sufficient water; and if people generally cursed Nero for his -crimes, they acknowledged that he had at least not damaged the public -aqueducts; and that in his reign ice-houses were first built, the -contents of which enabled thousands to quaff the cool beverage which is -so commendably spoken of by Aristotle. - -The fountains were the ornaments of the public places, as the crystal -_ampulla_, with its slender neck and its globular body, was of the -sideboards of private houses in Rome. The common people drank to -excess, both of hot water and cold: the former they drank in large -measures;--this was in winter, and in taverns where they fed largely -upon pork, and drank the water as a stimulant! The Emperor Claudius -looked upon this regimen as an immoral indulgence, and he closed the -taverns where proprietors injured the public stomach by such a diet. -Some Romans were so particular as to boil the water they intended to -drink, in vessels at their own table. They were like the epicures who -never intrust the boiling of an egg to their own cooks. We may notice -that Augustus employed it lavishly, both as a bather and drinker. The -“faculty” were unanimous in recommending a similar use of it, and some -of these gentlemen made considerable fortunes by the various methods -of applying it. For instance, patients resorting to Charmis, to take -cold baths in winter under his direction, were required to pay him a -consulting fee of £800! He was the first “water-cure” Doctor that ever -practised, and he realized a fortune such as his successors may aim at -in vain. - -Horace Walpole, forgetting what he had once before said, namely, that -diet and patience formed the universal panacea, declared that his -“great nostrum was the use of cold water, inwardly and outwardly, on -all occasions, and that with disregard of precaution against catching -cold. I have often,” he continues, “had the gout in my face and eyes, -and instantly dip my head in a pail of cold water, which always cures -it, and does not send it any where else.” And again, alluding to -another use of water, he says sneeringly, “Whether Christianity will be -laid aside I cannot say. As nothing of the spirit is left, the forms, -I think, signify very little. Surely, it is not an age of morality and -principle; does it import whether profligacy is baptized or not?” - -With regard to the sanitary application of water, as noticed by -Walpole, there can be no doubt but that diet and digestion proceed -the more perfectly, as the ablution of the body is general and daily, -and made with cold water. But discretion must be used; for there -are conditions of the body which cannot endure cold bathing without -palpitation of the heart following. In such case, tepid water should -be used for a time, when the palpitations will soon cease, unless the -heart be organically affected. - -The same writer’s remarks on the Christian uses of water, remind me -of what is said of some such uses in Weever’s “Funeral Monuments.” He -cites the inscriptions that used to be placed over the holy water in -ancient churches. Some deposed that the sprinkling of it drove away -devils:-- - - “_Hujus aquæ tactus depellit dæmonis actus._” - -Others promised a blessing, as, for example:-- - - “_Asperget vos Deus cum omnibus sanctis suis ad vitam æternam._” - -Another implied, that six benefits arose from its use; namely,-- - - ----“_Sex operantur aquâ benedictâ: - Cor mundat, accidiam (?) fugat, venalia tollit, - Auget opem; removetque hostem, phantasmata pellit._” - -Homer, too, it will be recollected, speaks of the sound of water -inspiring consolatory thoughts, in the passage where he describes one -“suffering cruel wounds from a diseased heart, but he found a remedy; -for, sitting down beneath a lofty rock, looking down upon the sea, he -began to sing.” - -The dormitories of many of the old convents were adorned with -inscriptions recommendatory of personal cleanliness; but the inmates -generally were more content with the theory than the practice: they -were, in some degree, like the man at Bishop-Middleham, who died with -the reputation of a water-drinker, but who really killed himself by -secret drunkenness. He praised water in public, but drank brandy in -private, though it was not till after death that his delinquency was -discovered. - -The use of water against the spells of witchcraft lingered longer in -Scotland than elsewhere. The Strathdown Highlander even now, it is -said, is not ashamed to drink “the water of the dead and living ford,” -on New Year’s Day, as a charm to secure him from sorcery until the -ensuing New Year. - -St. Bernard, the Abbot, made application of water for another purpose. -Butler says of him, that he _once_ happened to fix his eyes on the face -of a woman; but immediately reflecting that this was a temptation, he -ran to a pond, and leaped up to the neck into the water, which was then -as cold as ice, to punish himself, and to vanquish the enemy! - -There is a second incident connected with water, that will bear to be -told as an illustration, at least, of old times. When Patricius was -Bishop of Prusa, the Proconsul Julius resorted thither to the famous -baths, and was restored to such vigorous health thereby, that he not -only made sacrifice of thanksgiving to Esculapius and Health, but -required the Bishop to follow his example. The Prelate declined, and -the Proconsul ordered him to be thrown into a caldron of boiling water, -by which he was no more affected than if he had been enjoying a bath of -tepid rose-water. Whereupon he was taken out and beheaded. The power -that kept the water cool did not interfere to blunt the axe. - -We have seen the reverence paid by certain “ancients of old” to the -supposed divinities whose crystal thrones were veiled beneath the -waves. Men under a better dispensation have shown, perhaps, a worse -superstition. Bede makes mention of a Monk who thought he would purify -his sin-stained spirit by actual ablution. He had, the church-historian -tells us, a solitary place of residence assigned him in the monastery, -adjacent to a river: into the latter he was accustomed to plunge, by -way of penance to his body. He went manfully to the bottom, and his -mouth was no sooner again in upper air, than it was opened to give -utterance to lusty prayer and praise. He would sometimes thus stand for -hours, up to the neck, and uttering his orisons aloud. He was in full -dress when this penance was performed, and, on coming from the stream, -he let his wet, and sometimes frozen, garments dry upon his person. A -Friar, once seeing him break the ice, in order that he might make his -penitential plunge, expressed shiveringly his wonder at the feat: “It -must be so _very_ cold,” said the Friar. “I have seen greater cold,” -was the sole remark of the devotional diver. “Such austerity _I_ never -beheld,” exclaimed another spectator. “_I_ have beheld far greater,” -replied the Monk. “And thus,” adds the historian, as simply as any -of them, “thus he forwarded the salvation of many by his words and -example.” - -Connected with a pious man of our own time, I may mention an incident -touching water, which is rather remarkable:--the person to whom I -allude is Bishop Gobat, of Jerusalem. He states, in his last Annual -Letter, that he is building a school which will cost him about £600: -the school is not yet finished; but the water used for mixing the -mortar has already cost the enormous sum of £60. It is, in fact, a -luxury which must be paid for. Where it is so dear, it were well if the -people never were thirsty; and there were such people of old. - -The late Vice-Chancellor of England, Sir Lancelot Shadwell, was as -indefatigable a bather as the Monk noticed by Bede. Every morning -throughout the year, during his residence at Barnes Elms, he might -be seen wrestling joyously with the Thames. It is said that, on one -occasion, a party, in urgent need of an injunction, after looking -for the Judge in a hundred places where he was not to be found, at -length took boat, and encountered him as he was swimming in the river. -There he is said to have heard the case, listening to the details as -the astonished applicants made them, and now and then performing a -frolicsome “summersault,” when they paused for want of breath. The -injunction was granted, it is said; after which the applicants left the -Judge to continue his favourite aquatic sport by himself. - -If the late amiable and able Vice-Chancellor was a water-lawyer, so -was the late Archdeacon Singleton a water-divine. When tutor to the -young Lords Percy, he, and the eldest of the sons of the then Duke -of Northumberland,--Hugh, Earl Percy,--were expert swimmers, and -often, by their achievements, excited the admiration of less daring -venturers. The Archdeacon was accustomed to float away for miles from -Sion, depending upon the tide to float him back again. At first, many a -boatman looked inquiringly at the motionless body carrying on with the -stream; but, when he was better known, his appearance thus excited no -more surprise than if he had been in an outrigger, calmly taking a pull -before the hour of dinner. - -With respect to water-drinkers, they seem to have abounded among the -good old Heathens, of whom so many stories are told that we are not -called upon to believe. - -Aristotle, who, like Dr. Macnish, wrote an “Anatomy of Drunkenness,” -(Περὶ Mέθης,) states therein, that he knew, or had heard, of many -people who never experienced what it was to be thirsty. Archonides, -of Argos, is cited by him as a man who could eat salt beef for a -week without caring to drink, therewith or thereafter. Mago, the -Carthaginian, is famous for having twice crossed the Desert without -having once tasted water, or any other beverage. The Iberians, -wealthy and showy people as they were, were water-drinkers; and it -was peculiar to some of the Sophists of Elis, that they lived upon -nothing but water and dried figs. Their bodily strength, which was -great, is said to have been the result of such diet; but, it is added, -that the pores of their skin exuded any thing but a celestial ichor, -and that, whenever they went to the baths, all the other bathers -fled, holding their offended noses between their fingers! Matris, -of Athens, lived all his life upon myrtle-berries and water; but, -as nobody knows how long he _did_ live, it would be rather rash to -imitate him in hopes of obtaining extension of existence. Lamprus, the -musician, was a water-drinker, as were Polemon, the Academician, and -Diocles, of Peparethus; but, as they were never famous for any thing -else, they are hardly worth citing. It is different when we contrast -Demosthenes with Demades. Demosthenes states, in his second Philippic, -that he was a water-drinker; and Pytheas was right, when he bade the -Athenians remark, that the sober demagogue was, like Dr. Young, in -fact, constantly engaged in solemn Night Thoughts. “Not so your other -demagogue, Demades,” said Pytheas; “_he_ is an unclean fellow, who is -daily drunk, and who never comes into your assemblies but to exhibit -his enormous paunch.” Such was the style of election speeches in -Greece; and it has a smack of the hustings, and, indeed, of the market, -too, in Covent Garden. - -To turn from old to modern mythology, I may notice that water entered -into the old sports of St. Distaff’s Day, or the morrow after Twelfth -Day. It is thus alluded to by one whose “mind was jocund, but his life -was chaste,”--the lyric Parson of Dean Priors:-- - - “Partly work and partly play - Ye must, on St. Distaff’s Day. - From the plough soon free your team, - Then come home and fother them. - If the maids a-spinning go, - Burn the flax, and fire the tow, - Scorch their plackets, but beware - That ye singe no maiden-hair. - Bring in pails of water then, - Let the maids bewash the men. - Give St. Distaff all the right, - Then bid Christmas sport ‘Good-night;’ - And next morrow ev’ry one - To his own vocation.” - -When Herrick wrote these lines, I do not know how it may have been at -Dean Priors, but London was but indifferently supplied with water. -But _now_ London is supplied with water from eight different sources. -Five of them are on the north, or Middlesex, side of London, three -on the Southwark and Surrey side. The first comprise the New River, -at Islington; the East London, at Old Ford, on the Lea; the West -Middlesex, on the Thames, at Brentford and Hammersmith; and the Chelsea -and Grand Junction, on the same river, at Chelsea. The south side is -entirely supplied from the Thames, by the Southwark, Lambeth, and -Vauxhall Waterworks, whose names are descriptive of their locality. - -The daily supply amounts to about 35,000,000 of gallons, of which -more than a third is supplied by the New River Company. The original -projector of this Company was Sir Hugh Myddelton, who proposed to -supply the London conduits from the wells about Amwell and Ware. The -project was completed in 1613, to the benefit of posterity and the ruin -of the projector. The old hundred-pound shares are now worth ten times -their original cost. - -In 1682 the private houses of the metropolis were only supplied with -fresh water twice a week. Mr. Cunningham, in his “Handbook of London,” -informs us that the old sources of supply were the Wells, or Fleet -River, Wallbrook and Langbourne Waters, Clement’s, Clerk’s, and Holy -Well, Tyburn, and the River Lea. Tyburn first supplied the City in the -year 1285, the Thames not being pressed into the service of the City -conduits till 1568, when it supplied the conduit at Dowgate. There were -people who stole water from the pipes then, as there are who steal gas -now. “This yere,” (1479,) writes an old chronicler of London, quoted -by Mr. Cunningham, “a wax-charndler in Flete Strete had bi craft -perced a pipe of the condite withynne the ground, and so conveied the -water into his selar; wherefore he was judged to ride thurgh the Citee -with a condite upon his hedde.” The first engine which conveyed water -into private houses, by leaden pipes, was erected at London Bridge, -in 1582. The pipes were laid over the steeple of St. Magnus; and the -engineer was Maurice, a Dutchman. Bulmer, an Englishman, erected a -second engine, at Broken Wharf. Previous to 1656, the Strand and -Covent Garden, though so near to the river, were only supplied by -water-tankards, which were carried by those who sold the water, or by -the apprentice, if there were one in the house, whose duty it was to -fill the house-tankard at the conduit, or in the river. In the middle -of the seventeenth century, Ford erected water-works on the Thames, -in front of Somerset House; but the Queen of Charles II.--like the -Princess Borghese, who pulled down a church next to her palace, because -the incense turned her sick, and the organ made her head ache--ordered -the works to be demolished, because they obstructed a clear view -on the river. The inhabitants of the district depended upon their -tankards and water-carriers, until the reign of William III., when the -York-buildings Waterworks were erected. The frequently-occurring name -of Conduit-street, or Conduit-court, indicates the whereabout of many -of the old sources whence our forefathers drew their scanty supplies. - -Water is not necessarily unhealthy, because of a little earthy matter -in it; mineral, or animal, or vegetable matter held in it, by solution, -or otherwise, renders it decidedly unwholesome. Rain water is the -purest water, when it is to be had by its natural distillation in the -open fields. When collected near towns, it should never be used without -being previously boiled and strained. - -The hardness of water is generally caused by the presence of sulphate -of lime. Horses commonly refuse to drink hard water,--a water that can -make neither good tea, nor good beer, and which frequently contains -many salts. Soft water, which is a powerful solvent of all vegetable -matters, is to be preferred for all domestic purposes. River water is -seldom pure enough for drinking. Where purest, it has lost its carbonic -acid from long exposure; and in the neighbourhood of cities it is -often a slow poison, and nothing more, scarcely to be rescued from the -name by the process of filtration. London is still supplied, at a very -costly price, with water which is “offensive to the sight, disgusting -to the imagination, and destructive to the health.” Thames water, as at -present flowing into our houses, is at once the jackal and aide-de-camp -of cholera. People are apt to praise it, as being the water from which -is made the purest porter in the world; but it is a well-known fact, -that the great London brewers never employ it for that purpose. - -The more a spring is drawn from, the softer the water will become; -hence old wells furnish a purer water than those which are more recent; -but a well of soft water is sensibly hardened by a coating of bricks. -To obviate this, the bricks should be coated with cement. Snow water -deserves a better reputation than it has acquired. Lake water is -fitted only for the commonest household detergent purposes. But the -salubrity of water is converted into poison by the conveyances which -bring it almost to our lips; and we have not yet adopted in full the -recommendation of Vitruvius and Columella to use pipes of earthenware, -as being not only cheaper, but more durable and more wholesome, than -lead. We still convey away refuse water in earthenware, and bring fresh -water into our houses in lead! The noted choleraic colic of Amsterdam, -in the last century, was entirely caused by the action of vegetable -matter in the water-pipes. - -Filtration produces no good effect upon hard water. The sulphate of -lime, and still more the super-carbonate of lime, are only to be -destroyed by boiling. Boiled water, cooled, and agitated in contact -with the atmosphere, before use, is a safe and not an unpleasant -beverage. It is essential that the water be boiling when “toast and -water” is the beverage to be taken. - -Water, doubtless, is the natural drink of man--in a natural state. It -is the only liquid which truly appeases thirst; and a small quantity is -sufficient for that effect. The other liquids are, for the most part, -palliatives merely. If man had kept to water, the saying would not be -applicable to him, that “he is the only animal privileged to drink -without being thirsty.” But, then, where would the medical profession -have been? - -But he does well who, at all events, commences the day with water and -prayer. With such an one we go hand in hand, not only in that service, -but, as now, to Breakfast. - - - - -BREAKFAST. - - -Swift lent dignity to this repast, and to laundresses partaking of it, -when he said, in illustration of modern Epicureanism, that “the world -must be encompassed before a washerwoman can sit down to breakfast.” - -Franklin, who made a “morality” of every sentiment, and put opinions -into dramatical action, has a passage in some one of his Essays, in -which he says, that “Disorder breakfasts with Plenty, dines with -Poverty, sups with Misery, and sleeps with Death.” It is an unpleasant -division of the day, but it is truly described, as far as it goes. -On the other hand, it is not to be concluded that Disorder is the -favourite guest of Abundance; and I do not know any one who has -described a plentiful breakfast, with regularity presiding, better -than another essayist, though one of a less matter-of-fact quality -than Franklin,--I mean Leigh Hunt. In the “Indicator” he invites us -to a “Breakfast in Cold Weather.” “Here it is,” he says, “ready laid. -_Imprimis_, tea and coffee; secondly, dry toast; thirdly, butter; -fourthly, eggs; fifthly, ham; sixthly, something potted; seventhly, -bread, salt, mustard, knives, forks, &c. One of the first things that -belong to a breakfast, is a good fire. There is a delightful mixture of -the lively and the snug, in coming down to one’s breakfast-room of a -cold morning, and seeing every thing prepared for us,--a blazing grate, -a clean table-cloth and tea-things; the newly-washed faces and combed -heads of a set of good-humoured urchins; and the sole empty chair, -at its accustomed corner, ready for occupation. When we lived alone,” -he adds, “we could not help reading at meals; and it is certainly a -delicious thing to resume an entertaining book, at a particularly -interesting passage, with a hot cup of tea at one’s elbow, and a -piece of buttered toast in one’s hand. The first look at the page, -accompanied by a co-existent bite of the toast, comes under the head -of ‘intensities.’” Under the head of “&c.” in the above list, I should -be disposed to include “sunshine;” for sunshine in a breakfast-room -in winter, is almost as glorious a thing as the fire itself. It is -a positive tonic; it cheers the spirits, strengthens the body, and -promotes digestion. As for breakfast in hot weather, all well-disposed -persons who have gardens take that meal, of course, in “the arbour,” -and amid flowers. Breakfasts _al-fresco_ are all the more intensely -enjoyed, because so few may be discussed in the open air in a country -whose summer consists of “three hot days and a thunder-storm;” and in -a climate wherein, according to Boerhaave, people should not leave off -their winter clothing till Midsummer-Day, resuming the same the next -morning when they are dressing for breakfast! Walpole and Boerhaave are -right; our summers do sometimes set in with extraordinary severity. - -The breakfast of a Greek soldier, taken at dawn of day, required a -strong head to bear it. It consisted of bread soaked in wine. If -Princes were in the habit of so breaking their fast, we hardly need -wonder at the denunciation in Ecclesiastes against those who eat in -the morning. The Greek patricians sat daily down to but one solid -meal. Soldiers and plebeians had less controllable appetites, and -these could not be appeased with less than two meals a day. They were -accounted peculiarly coarse people who consumed three. The Romans were, -in this respect, similar to the Greeks. Fashionable people ate little -or nothing before the hour when they compensated for a long fast by -a daily meal, where they fed hugely. A simple breakfast, as soon as -they awoke, of “bread and cheese,” has a very unclassical sound; but -good authority assures us, that it was a custom duly honoured with -much observance. Not of such light fare, however, was the breakfast of -Galba. Suetonius says that the old Emperor used to cry for his morning -repast long before day-break. This was in winter time. He took the -meal in bed, and was probably induced to do so by indisposition; for -he was a huge, ogre-like supper-eater,--eating much, leaving more, and -ordering the remains to be divided among the attendants, who duly, -rather than dignifiedly, scrambled for the same. - -Modern epicures would hardly approve of some of the dishes -half-consumed by the hungry Galba at breakfast; but potentates of our -own days have made their first meal upon very questionable matter. - -When Clapperton, the African traveller, breakfasted with the Sultan -of Baussa, which is a collection of straggling villages on the banks -of the Quorra, among the delicacies presented were a large grilled -water-rat, and alligators’ eggs, fried or stewed. The company were -much amazed at the singularity of taste which prompted the stranger to -choose fish and rice in preference to those savoury viands. The Prince, -who gave this public breakfast in honour of a foreign commoner, was -disgusted at the fastidious super-delicacy of his guest. In the last -century, our commoners used to give similar entertainments in honour of -Princes. - -“Ælia Lælia” Chudleigh, as Walpole calls the famous lady who was -still more famous as Duchess of Kingston, gave splendidly untidy -entertainments of this sort in a splendidly untidy mansion. Her suppers -will be found noticed in another page. In 1763, she gave a concert -and vast cold collation, or “breakfast,” in honour of Prince Edward’s -birthday. The _scene_ is admirably painted by Walpole. “The house -is not fine, nor in good taste, but loaded with finery. Execrable -varnished pictures, chests, cabinets, commodes, tables, stands, boxes, -riding on one another’s backs, and loaded with terrenes, figures, -filligrees, and every thing upon earth! Every favour she has bestowed -is registered by a bit of Dresden China. There is a large case full -of enamels, eggs, ambers, lapis-lazuli, cameos, tooth-pick cases, and -all kinds of trinkets, things that she told me were her playthings. -Another cupboard full of the finest japan, and candlesticks, and vases -of rock-crystal, ready to be thrown down in every corner. But of all -curiosities are the conveniencies in every bed-chamber; great mahogany -projections, with brass handles, cocks, &c. I could not help saying it -was the loosest family I ever saw.” - -There was a philosopher of the same century, at whom even Walpole -dared not have sneered. I allude to Dr. Black, whom Lavoisier called -“the Nestor of the Chemical Revolution.” Dr. Black was famous for the -frugality of his breakfasts, and for the singularity of his death, -when seated at that repast. His usual fare was a little bread, a few -prunes, and a measured quantity of milk and water. One morning in -November, 1799, he was seated at this modest meal. His cup was in his -hand, when the Inevitable Angel beckoned to him, and the Christian -philosopher calmly obeyed. He placed the cup on his knees, “which were -joined together, and kept it steady with his hand, in the manner of a -person perfectly at his ease; and in this attitude he expired, without -a drop being spilt, or a feature in his countenance changed, as if -an experiment had been required, to show to his friends the facility -with which he departed.” There was neither convulsion, shock, nor -stupor, we are told, to announce or retard the approach of death. This -was a more becoming end than that of another chemist, the younger -Berthollet,--although in the latter there was something heroical, -too. He had taken his last breakfast, when he calmly proceeded to a -sacrifice which he made to the interests of science. He destroyed his -life by enclosing himself in an atmosphere of carbonic acid. There he -began registering all the successive feelings he experienced, which -were such as would have been occasioned by a narcotic;--“a pause, and -then an almost illegible word occurred. It is presumed that the pen -dropped from his hand, and he was no more.” - -I have spoken of winter and of summer breakfasts. I must have recourse -to Mr. Forrester’s “Norway in 1848 and 1849,” to show what a breakfast -for a traveller should be; namely, oatmeal porridge, or stir-about, -with a slice of rye or wheaten bread. Such a breakfast, he says, will -not only fortify the traveller for a lengthened period, but to the -sedentary, the bilious, and the dyspeptic, its adoption will afford -more relief than the best prescription of a physician. But this -breakfast must be prepared with due care, and this is the fashion of -it: “Take two or three handsfull of oatmeal; I prefer it of mixed -coarse and fine meal, in the proportion of one third of the latter -to two of the former. Mingle the meal in a basin of cold water, and -pour it into a saucepan containing about a quart of boiling water; -add a small portion of salt. Set the saucepan over the fire, and -keep stirring it, sprinkling, from time to time, small quantities of -the meal, till the composition boils, and has acquired the proper -consistency. That may be known by its glutinous state as it drops from -the spoon. Let it simmer for ten minutes, and then pour it, not into -a deep dish, but into common dinner plates, and it will form a soft, -thin, jellied cake; spoon out portions of this, and float it in new -milk, adding moist sugar, to your taste.” For the benefit of others, I -may add my testimony touching this recipe. I have strictly followed the -instruction given, and I certainly never tasted any thing to equal the -dish. It was execrable! But it has the double recommendation of being -easy to digest, and of keeping off the sensation of hunger for a very -long time. Use alone is needed to make it a popular breakfast, and he -is a hero who uses it till he likes it. But it is time to consider the -various - - -MATERIALS FOR BREAKFAST. - -And first of milk. If Britons really have, what they so much boast -of,--a birth-right,--the least disputable article of that class, is -their undoubted right to that lacteal treasure which their mother holds -from Nature, on trust, for their use and advantage. - -It is a curious fact, that aristocratic infants are those who are most -ordinarily deprived of this first right of their citizenship, and -are sent to slake their thirst and fortify their thews and sinews at -ochlocratic breasts. Jean Jacques Rousseau was not often right, but he -was triumphantly so when he denounced the young and healthy mother, -let her rank be what it might, who made surrender of what should be -one of the purest of a young mother’s pleasures, and flung her child -to the bosom of a stranger. Who can say what bad principles may not -have been drawn in with these “early breakfasts?” Certainly this -vicarious exercise of the office of maternity is an abomination; and -the abomination of having one’s child suckled by a mercenary stranger -can only be next in intensity to that of having him----but let us keep -to “Table Traits.” - -Milk is too popularly known to need description; but it is not all that -is sold under that name that comes from the cow. The cow with one arm, -that produces what fresh medical students call the _aqua pumpaginis_, -has very much to do with the dairies of London. Metropolitan milk-maids -are not as unsophisticated as the milk-maids of the olden time; if, -indeed, maids or milk were particularly pure even then; for milk was -a propitiatory offering to Mercury, and if ever there was a deity who -loved mischief, why, Dan Mercury was the one. - -In Rome milk was used as a cosmetic, and for baths as well as beverage. -Five hundred asses supplied the bath and toilette-vases of the Empress -Poppæa; and some dozen or two were kept to maintain the decaying -strength of Francis I. Of course, asses’ milk became fashionable in -Paris immediately, just as bolster cravats did with us, when the Regent -took to them in order to conceal a temporary disease in the neck. - -“Oil of milk” and “cow-cheese” were classical names for butter,--a -substance which was not known in either Greece or Rome until -comparatively late periods. Greece received it from Asia, and Rome knew -it not as an article of food until the legionaries saw the use to which -it was applied by the German matrons. The Scythians, like the modern -Bedouins, were great butter-consumers. Their churners were slaves, -captured in war, and blinded before they were chained to the sticks -beside the tub, at which, with sightless orbs, they were set to work. - -There have been seasons when, as now in Abyssinia, butter has been -burned in the lamps in churches, instead of oil. The “butter-tower” of -the cathedral at Rouen owes its distinctive appellation to its having -been built from the proceeds of a tax levied in return for permissions -to eat butter at uncanonical times; so that the tower is a monument of -the violation of the ecclesiastical canons. But there is great licence -in these matters; and chapels in Ireland have been constructed with -money raised by putting up Moore’s erotic works to be raffled for, at -half-a-crown a ticket! - -Goats, cows, sheep, asses, and mares have all contributed their milk -towards the making of cheese; and national prejudice has run so high -on the question of superiority, that as many broken heads have been -the result, as there have been rivulets of blood spilt at Dinant on -the question of copper kettles. The Phrygian cheese is said to have -owed its excellence to the fact, that it was made of asses’ and mares’ -milk mixed together. I doubt, however, if the strong-smelling Phrygian -cheese was equal to our Stilton,--which, by the way, is not made _at_ -Stilton,--and whose ripeness has been judiciously assisted by the -addition of a pint of Madeira. Delicate persons at Rome breakfasted on -bread and cheese,--principally goat cheese. It was administered, on the -same principle that we prescribe rump-steak, as strengthening. People -in rude health flourished in spite of it, and therefore ailing people -_must_, it was thought, be invigorated because of it. However, our own -system is less open to objection than that of the ancient faculty. - -I do not know whether mothers will consider it complimentary or not; -but it is a fact, that the milk of asses more nearly resembles human -milk than any other. Like the human milk, it contains more saccharine -matter than that of the cow, and deposits a large proportion of curd by -mere repose. - -Milk is easily assimilated, nourishes quickly, and but slightly excites -to vascular action. It is stringent, however, and has a tendency to -create acidity; but an addition of oatmeal gruel will correct both -these matters. Suet, inserted in a muslin bag, and simmered with the -milk, is of highly nourishing quality; but it is sometimes more -than weak stomachs can bear. Lime-water with milk is recommended as -sovereign against the acidity which milk alone is apt to create in -feeble stomachs. - -Eggs have been as violently eulogized as they have been condemned, and -both in extremes. In some parts of Africa, where they are very scarce, -and the Priests are very fond of them, it has been revealed to the -people, that it is sacrilege for any but clerical gentlemen to eat -eggs! The lay scruple, if I may so speak, is quieted by the assurance, -that, though the sacred hens produce only for the servants at the -altar, the latter never address themselves to the food in question, -without the whole body of the laity profiting thereby! I suppose that -Dissenters naturally abound in this part of Africa. There is nothing so -unsatisfactory as vicarious feeding. Feeding is a duty which every man -is disposed to perform for himself, whether it be expected of him or -not. All the eggs in Africa, passing the œsophagus of a Priest, could -hardly nourish a layman, even though the eggs were as gigantic as those -which an old author says are presented by ladies in the moon to their -profoundly delighted husbands, and from which spring young babies, six -feet high, and men at all points. - -If the matrons in the moon were thus remarkable in this respect, the -Egyptian shepherds on earth were not less so in another: they had a -singular method of cooking eggs, without the aid of fire. They laid -them in a sling, and then applied so violent a rotatory motion thereto, -that they were heated and cooked by the very friction of the air -through which they passed! - -Diviners and dreamers dealt largely in eggs. Livia was told, just -before the birth of Tiberius, to hatch one in her bosom, and that the -sex of the chick would foretell that of the expected little stranger. -In Rome and Greece eggs were among the introductory portions of every -banquet. But Rome knew only of twenty different manners of cooking -them. What an advance in civilization has been made in Paris, which, -according to Mr. Robert Fudge, boasts of six hundred and eighty-five -ways to dress eggs! - -Eggs, filled with salt, used to be eaten by curious maidens, after a -whole day’s fasting, on St. Agnes’ Eve: the profit of such a meal was, -that she who partook of it had information, in her after-dreams, of -that very interesting personage, her future husband! - -There is a story narrated of a Welsh weaver, that he could tell, by -the look of the egg, whether the bird would be worth any thing or not. -He reminds me of an old Monk I heard of, when in Prague, who, on a man -passing him, could tell whether he were an honest man, or a knave, by -the smell! But the Welsh weaver was even more clever than this. He -could not only judge of eggs, but hatch them. A badger once carried -off his sitting-hen, and no plumed nurse was near to supply her place. -The weaver, thereupon, took the eggs (there were six of them) to bed -with him, and in about two days hatched them all! Of this brood he only -reared a cock and a hen. The cock was a gallant bird, that used to -win flitches of bacon for his master at cock-fights; and the hen was -as prolific as Mrs. Partlett could have desired. The result was, that -they kept their step-mother, the weaver, in bacon and eggs for many a -month; and the two days spent in bed were not so entirely thrown away -as might, at first sight, appear. - -Let it be understood that eggs may lose their nourishment by cooking. -The yolk, raw or very slightly boiled, is exceedingly nutritious. -It is, moreover, the only food for those afflicted with jaundice. -When an egg has been exposed to a long continuance of culinary heat, -its nature is entirely changed. A slightly-boiled egg, however, is -more easy of digestion than a raw one. The best accompaniment for a -hard egg is vinegar. Raw eggs have a laxative effect; hard-boiled, -the contrary. There is an idiosyncrasy in some persons, which shows -itself in the utter disgust which they experience, not only against -the egg itself, but also against any preparation of which it forms an -ingredient, however slight. Eggs should always be liberally accompanied -by bread;--of which I will now say a few words, and first of - - -CORN. - -Our first parents received the mission to cultivate the garden which -was given them for a home. Their Hebrew descendants looked upon tillage -of all descriptions with a reverence worthy of the authority which -they professed to obey. The sons of the tribes stood proudly by the -plough, the daughters of the patriarchs were gleaners, warriors lent -their strength in the threshing barn, Kings guided oxen, and Prophets -were summoned from the furrows to put on their mantles, and go forth -and tell of things that were to come. What Heaven had enjoined, the law -enforced. The people were taught to love and hold by the land which -was in their own possession. To alienate it was to commit a crime. And -it is from this ancient rule, probably, that has descended to us the -feeling which universally prevails,--that he alone is aristocratic, has -the best of power, who is lord of the land upon which he has built his -earthly tabernacle. - -The fields of Palestine were fertile beyond what was known elsewhere; -her cattle produced more abundantly, and the very appellations of -many of her localities have reference to the beauty and the blessings -showered down upon them by the Lord. - -Next to it, perhaps, in richness and productiveness, was Egypt, the -home of fugitives from other homes where temporary famine reigned. -Egypt was long the granary of the Roman empire, and twenty million -bushels of corn was the life-sustaining tribute which she annually -poured into the store-houses of Imperial Rome. That territory could -hardly be more productive, of which an old Latin author speaks, and -touching which he says, that a rod thrust into the soil at night would -be found budding before morning. And this ancient story, I may notice, -has been the venerable father of a large family of similar jokes among -our Transatlantic cousins. - -The Egyptians recognised Osiris as their instructor how to subdue and -use the earth. The Greeks took the teaching from Ceres. Romulus, too, -acknowledged the divine influence; and his first public act, as King, -was to raise the twelve sons of his nurse into a priesthood, charged -with watching over the fields, and paying sacrifice and prayer to Jove -for yearly increase of harvests. - -It was a selfish wish; but not more so than that of the Italian -peasants, who, when one who was a native of their district had been -raised to the tiara, sent a delegation to request an especial favour at -his hands. The new Pope looked on his old acquaintances benevolently, -and bade them express their wish. “They wanted but a modest boon,” -they replied: “nothing more than a declaration from the Pontiff that -their district should be henceforth distinguished by its having _two_ -harvests every year!” And the obliging “successor of the Fisherman” -smiled, and not only granted their request, but promised more than he -was petitioned for. “To do honour to my old friends,” said he, “not -alone shall they have two harvests every year, but henceforth the year -in their district shall be twice as long as it is in any other!” And -therewith the simple people departed joyously. - -The older Romans honoured agriculture, as did the Jews. Their language -bore reference to this, their coin was stamped with symbols in -connexion therewith, and their public treasury “_pascua_” showed, -by its name, that “pasturage” was wealth. So he who was rich in -minted coin enjoyed the _pecunia_, or “money,” for which “flocks” -(_pecus_) were bought and sold. The owner of an “estate” (_locus_) was -_locuples_, a term for a man well endowed with worldly goods; and he -was in possession of a “salary,” who had his _salarium_, his allowance -of salt-money, or of salt, wherewith to savour the food by which he -lived. - -The Greeks refreshed the mouths of their ploughing oxen with wine. The -labour was considerable; for, although the plough was light, it lacked -the conveniencies of the more modern implement. Like the Anglo-Norman -plough, it had no wheels: the wheeled plough is the work of the -inventive Gauls. - -The French Republicans made a show of paying honour to agriculture by -public demonstrations, the chief actors in which were the foremost men -in the Land of Equality. They, absurdly enough, took their idea from -the example presented them by a Monarch, all of whom they pronounced -execrable; and by one, too, who was the most despotic upon earth,--the -Emperor of China. - -And, in the case of the Emperor, there probably was more ostentation -than any better motive for the act. Grimm, in his “Correspondence,” -says, truly enough, that the ceremony is a fine one, which places -the Emperor of China, every year, at the tail of the plough; but, as -he adds, it is possible that, like much of the etiquette of European -Courts, such a custom may have sunk into a mere observance, exercising -no influence on the public mind. “I defy you,” he says, “to find a -more impressive ceremony than that by which the Doge of Venice yearly -declares himself the husband of the Adriatic Sea. How exalting!--how -stimulating!--how proudly inspiring for the Venetians, when their -nation was, in reality, sovereign of the seas! But now it is little -more than a ridiculous sport, and without any other effect than that of -attracting a multitude of people to the Fair of the Ascension.” - -Charles IX., infamous as he was in most respects, was honourable in -one; namely, in exempting from arrest for debt all persons engaged -in the cultivation of land, “with intent to raise grain and fruit -necessary for the sustenance of men and beasts.” All the property of -such husbandmen was alike exempted from seizure; and it strikes us, -that this was a much more reasonably-founded exemption than that with -which we endow _roué_ Members of Parliament, who have no excuse for -exceeding their income. They are free from arrest for six weeks from -the prorogation of Parliament; and this is the cause of the farce -which is so often played in the autumn and winter, when Parliament is -“further prorogued.” The Great Council would be all the better for the -absence of men who so far forget their duty as to cheat her Majesty’s -lieges by exceeding their own income. The Senate could better spare -the spendthrifts, than the land could spare the presence of him whose -mission it is to render it productive. - -Wheat is a native of Asia,--some say, of Siberia; others, of Tartary; -but it is a matter of doubt, whether it can now be found there growing -in a wild state. The Romans created a corn-god, and then asked its -protection. The powerful deity was called Robigus, and he was solemnly -invoked, on every 25th of April, to keep mildew from the grain. The -Romans had a reverence for corn, but barley was excepted from this -homage; and to threaten to put an offending soldier on rations of -barley, was to menace him with disgrace. The Italian antipathy still -exists, if we may believe the Italian Professor, who, being offered -a basin of gruel, (made from barley,) declared its proper appellation -to be “_acqua crudele_.” He accounted of it, as Pliny did of rye, that -it was detestable, and could only be swallowed by an extremely hungry -man. Oats were only esteemed a degree higher by Virgil. The poet speaks -of them almost as disparagingly as Johnson did, when he described them -as “food for horses in England, and for men in Scotland.” The grain, -however, found a good advocate in him who asked, “----where did you -ever see such horses and such men?” The meal is, nevertheless, of a -heating quality, and certain cutaneous diseases are traced to a too -exclusive use of it. But oatmeal cakes are not bad eating,--where -better is not to be procured,--though they are less attractive to the -palate than those sweet buns made from sesame grain, and which the -Romans not only swallowed with delight, but used the name proverbially. -The lover who was treating his mistress to sugared phrases, was said to -be regaling her with “sesame cakes.” This sort of provision was very -largely dealt in by Latin lovers. It was to be had cheaply; and nymphs -consumed as fast as swains presented. - -If lovers gave the light bread of persuasion to win a maiden’s -affection, the Government distributed solid loaves, or corn to make -them with, to the people, in order to gain the popular esteem, and -suppress sedition. In some cases, it was as a “poor’s rate” paid by -the Emperors, and costing them nothing. In too many cases, it was ill -applied; and if Adrian daily fed all the children of the poor, other -imperial rulers showered their tens of thousands of bushels daily on -an idle populace and a half-dressed soldiery. It was easily procured. -Sixty millions of bushels--twenty times that number of pounds’ -weight--were supplied by Africa; and those “sweet nurses of Rome,” the -islands of the Mediterranean, also poured into the imperial granaries -an abundant tribute of the golden seed. It is a fact, however, that -neither Romans nor Gauls were, till a late period, acquainted with the -method of making fermented bread. - -Ambrosia, nine times sweeter than honey, was the food of the gods; the -first men existed on more bitter fare,--bread made from acorns. Ceres -has the honour of having introduced a better fare. Men worshipped her -accordingly; and, abandoning acorns, took also to eating the pig, -now allowed to fatten on them at his leisure. Ceres and King Miletus -dispute the renown of having invented grinding-stones. The hand-mill -was one of the trophies which the Roman eagles bore back with them from -Asia. Mola, the goddess charged therewith, looked to the well-being -of mills, millers, and bread. In Greece, Mercury had something to do -with this. It was he, at least, who sent to the Athenian market-women, -selling bread, their customers; and, as he was the God of Eloquence, -it is, doubtless, from this ancient source that all market-women are -endowed with shrewdness and loquacity. - -The Athenian bread-sellers are said to have possessed both. Our ladies -of the Gate, in Billing’s Ward, are, probably, not behind them; and I -am inclined to think that a true old-fashioned Bristol market-woman -would surpass both. Let me cite an instance. - -Some years ago, an old member of this ancient sisterhood was standing -at her stall, in front of one of the Bristol banks. She had a £10 -Bank-of-England note in her hand; and as, in her younger days, she had -been nurse-maid in the family of one of the partners, she thought she -might venture to enter, and ask for gold for her note. She did so; but -it was at a time when guineas were worth five-and-twenty shillings -a-piece, and gold was scarce, and----in short, she met with a refusal. -The quick-witted market-woman, without exhibiting any disappointment, -thereupon asked the cashier to let her have ten of the bank’s £1 notes -in exchange for her “Bank-of-Englander.” The cashier was delighted to -accommodate her in this fashion. The exchange being completed, the old -lady, taking up one of the provincial notes, read aloud the promise -engraved upon it, to pay the bearer in cash. “Very good!” said she, -with a gleesome chuckle, “now gi’ me goold for _your_ notes, or I’ll -run to the door, and call out, ‘Bank’s broke!’” There was no resisting -this, and the market-woman departed triumphantly with her gold. -Light-heeled Mercury could not have helped her better than she helped -herself, by means of her own sharp wit. - -Despite what Virgil says of oats, the Roman soldiery, for many years, -had no better food than gruel made from oatmeal, and sharpened for the -appetite by a little vinegar. The vinegar was an addition suggested by -Numa, who also not only improved the very rude ideas which previously -prevailed with regard to the making of bread, but turned baker himself, -and sent his loaves to the ovens which he had erected, and to the -bakers whom he had raised into a “guild,” placed under the protection -of the goddess Fornax;--and a very indifferent, nay, disreputable, -deity she was! The public ovens were to the people of Rome what a -barber’s shop is to a village in war time,--the temple of gossip. It -had been well had they never been any thing worse! The vocation of -baker was hereditary in a family; the son was compelled to follow his -father’s calling. Occasionally, a member of the fraternity was offered -a senatorship; but then he was required to make over his property, -realized by baking, to his successors; and, consequently, the honour -was as deeply declined as the London mayoralty would be by the Governor -of the Bank of England. - -If Fornax was the goddess to whose patronage the bakers were consigned -by the State, she suffered by the religious liberty exercised by the -bakers themselves, who chose to pay adoration to Vesta. Vesta was the -very antipodes in character and attributes to Fornax; and the selection -of the former would seem to show, that the generally reviled bakers -could not only praise virtue, but practise it. - -Endless were the varieties of bread sold in the markets at Rome. There -was Cappadocian bread for the wealthy; pugilistic loaves for the -athletæ; batter-bread for the strong, and Greek rolls for the weak, of -stomach: and there were the prepared bread poultices, which people who, -like Pompey’s young soldiers, were afraid of injuring their complexion, -were wont to keep applied to their cheeks during the hours of sleep. -Anadyomene so slumbering, with Adonis at her side similarly poulticed, -can hardly be said to be a subject for a painter; and yet many a -blooming Caia slept on the bosom of her Caius, and more _panis madidus_ -than blushes on the cheeks of either. - -Pliny ventures on a strange statement with regard to oats. He says that -oats and barley are so nearly allied, that when a man sows the one, -he is not sure that he may not reap the other! He also illustrates -the prolificness of millet, by asserting that a single grain produced -“innumerable ears of corn; and that a bushel (twenty pounds’ weight) -of millet would make more than sixty pounds of wholesome bread!” The -Romans and the Greeks also appear to have been acquainted with Indian -corn. - -Jean Jacques Rousseau, much as he affected to love nature,--and he was -himself one of the most artificial of characters,--knew very little -about her, or her productions. Some of our great men are described as -being in much the same condition of ignorance. Three poets of the last -century were one day walking through a field, promising a glorious -harvest of grain. One of them extolled the beauty of the wheat. “Nay,” -said the second, “it is rye.” “Not so,” remarked the third, “it is a -field of barley.” A clown, standing by, heard and marvelled at the -triple ignorance. “You are all wrong, gentlemen,” said he; “those be -oats.” The poets were town-bred; or were of that class of people who go -through a country with their eyes open, and are unable to distinguish -between its productions. I have seen Londoners contemplating, with a -very puzzled look, the “canary” crops growing in the vicinity of Herne -Bay; and I was once gravely asked if it was “teazle!” - -These crops are, as I was told by a grower, “capricious.” They will -grow abundantly upon certain land having certain aspects; but where the -aspect is changed, although the land be chemically the same, the canary -will scarcely grow at all. It is shipped in large quantities from Herne -Bay for London, where it is used for many purposes. None of its uses -are so singular as one to which corn was applied, some thirty years -ago, in the western settlements of America, namely, for stretching -boots and shoes. The boot or shoe was well filled with corn, and made -secure by such tight tying that none could escape. It was then immersed -for several hours in water; during which the leather was distended by -the gradual swelling of the grain. After being taken from the water, a -coating of neat’s-foot oil, laid on and left to dry, rendered the boot -or shoe fit for wear. - -A more interesting anecdote in connexion with corn, and illustrative -of character, is afforded us by Dr. Chalmers in his Diary. The -Doctor, as is well known,--and he was ever ready to confess his -weakness,--occasionally let his warm temper get the better of his -excellent judgment. Here is an instance, which shows, moreover, how -Christian judgment recovered itself from the influence of human nature: -“Nov. 20th, 1812.--Was provoked with Thomas taking it upon him to ask -more corn for my horse. It has got feeble under his administration of -corn, and I am not without suspicion that he appropriates it; and his -eagerness to have it strengthens the suspicion. Erred in betraying -anger to my servant and wife; and, though I afterwards got my feelings -into a state of placidity and forbearance, upon Christian principles, -was moved and agitated when I came to talk of it to himself. Let -me take the corn into my own hand, but carry it to him with entire -charity. O, my God, support me!” Was it not to Socrates that some one -said?--“To judge from your looks, you are the best-tempered man in the -world.” “Then my looks belie me,” replied the philosopher; “I have the -worst possible temper, by nature; with the strongest possible control -over it, by philosophy.” Chalmers was, in one sense, like Socrates; but -the control over his stubborn infirmity had something better “than your -philosophy” for its support. - -Reverting to the feeding of horses, I may notice, that, according to -the Earl of Northumberland’s “Household-Book,” the corn was not thrown -loose into the manger, but made into loaves. It has been conjectured, -that the English poor formerly ate the same bread. There can be no -question about it; and even at the present time it is no uncommon -sight, in some towns of the Continent, to see a driver feeding his -horse from a loaf, and occasionally taking a slice therefrom for -himself. - -There is no greater consumer of corn in England than the pigeon. -Vancouver, in laudable zeal for the hungry poor, calls pigeons -“voracious and insatiate vermin.” He calculates the pigeons of England -and Wales at nearly a million and a quarter; “consuming 159,500,000 -pints of corn annually, to the value of £1,476,562. 10_s._” It is -impossible for calculation to be made closer. Darwin says of pigeons, -that they have an organ in the stomach for secreting milk. And it is -not alone in the way of devouring corn that they are destructive. In -the “Philosophical Transactions,” it is mentioned that pigeons for -many ages built under the roof of the great church of Pisa. Their dung -spontaneously took fire, at last, and the church was consumed. - -I have said that the Roman soldiers marched to victory under the -influence of no more exciting stimulant than gruel and vinegar. A -little oatmeal has often sustained the strength of our own legions in -the hour of struggle. The Germans, brave as they are, sometimes require -a more substantial support. Thus, after a defeat endured by the Great -Frederick, hundreds of respectable burgesses of the province of Mark -set out as volunteers for the royal army,--the Hellengers in white, the -Sauerlanders in blue jackets,--each man with a stout staff in his hand, -and a rye loaf and a ham on his back. “Fritz” glared with astonishment -when they presented themselves at his head-quarters. “Where do you -fellows come from?” said he. “From Mark, to help our King.” “Who -doesn’t want you,” interrupted Fritz. “So much the better; we are here -of our own accord.” “Where are your officers?” “We have none.” “And -how many of you deserted by the way?” “Deserted!” cried the Markers -indignantly: “if any of us had been capable of _that_, we should not -be what we are,--volunteers.” “True!” said the King, “and I can depend -upon you. You shall have fire enough soon to toast your bread and cook -your hams by.” - -When Henri IV. was besieging Paris, held by the Leaguers, the want -most severely felt by the famished inhabitants was that of bread. -The Guise party, who held the city,--and the most active agent of -that party was the Duchess of Montpensier, the sister of Duke Henri -of Guise,--endeavoured to keep life in the people by means that -nature revolts at. When every other sort of food had disappeared, the -Government within the walls distributed very diminutive rolls made of a -paste, the chief ingredient in which was human bones ground to powder. -The people devoured them under the name of “Madame de Montpensier’s -cakes;”--no wonder that they soon after exultingly welcomed the entry -of a King, who declared that his first desire was to secure to every -man in France his “_poule au pot!_” But enough of bread. Let us examine -briefly the subject of - - -BUTTER. - -The illustrious Ude, or some one constituting him the authority for -the nonce, has sneered at the English as being a nation having twenty -religions, and only one sauce,--melted butter. A French commentator -has added, that we have nothing polished about us but our steel, and -that our only ripe fruit is baked apples. Guy Pantin traces the alleged -dislike of the French of his day for the English, to the circumstance -that the latter poured melted butter over their roast veal. The French -execration is amusingly said to have been further directed against -us, on account of the declared barbarism of eating oyster-sauce with -rump-steak, and “poultice,” as they cruelly characterize “bread sauce,” -with pheasant. But, to return to butter:--the spilling of it has more -than once been elucidative of character. When, in the days of the old -_régime_, an English servant accidentally let a drop or two of melted -butter fall upon the silken suit of a French _petit-maître_, the latter -indignantly declared that “blood and butter were an Englishman’s food.” -The conclusion was illogical, but the arguer was excited. Lord John -Townshend manifested better temper and wit, when a similar accident -befell him, as he was dining at a friend’s table, where the coachman -was the only servant in waiting. “John,” said my Lord, “you should -never grease anything but your coach-wheels.” - -It was an old popular error that a pound of butter might consist -of any number of ounces. It is an equally popular error, that a -breakfast cannot be, unless bread and butter be of it. Marcus Antoninus -breakfasted on dry biscuits; and many a person of less rank, and higher -worth, is equally incapable of digesting any thing stronger. Solid -breakfasts are only fit for those who have much solid exercise to take -after it; otherwise heartburn may be looked for. Avoid new bread and -spongy rolls; look on muffins and crumpets as inventions of men of -worse than sanguinary principles, and hot buttered toast as of equally -wicked origin. Dry toast is the safest morning food, perhaps, for -persons of indifferent powers of digestion; or they may substitute for -it the imperial fashion set by Marcus Antoninus. Of liquids I may next -speak; and in this our ancient friend, Tea, takes the precedence. - - -TEA. - -The origin of tea is very satisfactorily accounted for by the Indian -mythologists. Darma, a Hindoo Prince, went on a pilgrimage to China, -vowing he would never take rest by the way; but he once fell asleep, -and he was so angry with himself, on awaking, that he cut off his -eye-lids, and flung them on the ground. They sprang up in the form of -tea shrubs; and he who drinks of the infusion thereof, imbibes the -juice of the eye-lids of Darma. Tea, however, is said to have been -first used in China as a corrective for bad water; and _that_ not at a -remote date. - -In the seventeenth century, half the physicians of Holland published -treatises in favour of tea. It was hailed as a panacea, and the most -moderate eulogizers affirmed that two hundred cups a day might be -drunk without injury to the stomach of the drinker. In the ninth -century, tea was taken in China simply as a medicine; and it then -had the repute of being a panacea. The early Dutch physicians who so -earnestly recommended its use as a common beverage, met with strenuous -opposition. France, Germany, and Scotland, in the persons of Patin, -Hahnemann, and Duncan, decried tea as an impertinent novelty, and -the vendors of it as immoral and mercenary. Nor was Holland itself -unanimous in panegyrizing the refreshing herb. Some, indeed, eulogized -the infusion as the fountain of health, if not of youth; but others -again, and those of the Dutch faculty, indignantly derided it as filthy -“hay-water.” Olearius, the German, on the other hand, recognised its -dietetic virtues as early as 1133; while a Russian Ambassador, at about -the same period, refused a pound or two of it, offered him by the Mogul -as a present to the Czar, on the ground that the gift was neither -useful nor agreeable. - -The Dutch appear to have been the first who discovered the value of -the shrub, in a double sense. They not only procured it for the sake -of its virtues, but contrived to do so by a very profitable species of -barter. They exchanged with the Chinese a pound of sago for three or -four pounds of tea; and it is very possible that each party, preferring -its own acquisition, looked on the opposite party as duped. - -Tea is supposed to have been first imported into England, from Holland, -in 1666, by Lords Arundel and Ossory. We cannot be surprised that it -was slow in acquiring the popular favour, if its original cost was, -as it is said to have been, 60s. per pound. But great uncertainty -rests as well upon the period of introduction, as upon the original -importers, and the value of the merchandise. One fact connected with it -is well ascertained; namely, that European Companies had long traded -with China before they discovered the value and uses of tea. - -It is said to have been in favour at the Court of Charles II., owing to -the example of Catherine, his Queen, who had been used to drink it in -Portugal. Medical men thought, at that time, that health could not be -more effectually promoted than by increasing the fluidity of the blood; -and that the infusion of Indian tea was the best means of attaining -that object. In 1678, Bontekoe, a Dutch physician, published a -celebrated treatise in favour of tea, and to his authority its general -use in so many parts of Europe is to be attributed. - -The first tea-dealer was also a tobacconist, and sold the two weeds of -novelty together, or separately. His name was Garway, (“Garraway’s,”) -and his _locale_, Exchange-alley. It was looked upon chiefly as a -medicinal herb; and Garway, in the seventeenth century, not only “made -up prescriptions,” in which tea was the sole ingredient, but parcels -for presents, and cups of the infusion for those who resorted to his -house to drink it over his counter. Its price then varied from 11_s._ -to 50_s._ per pound. The taking tea with a visitor was soon a domestic -circumstance; and, towards the end of the century, Lord Clarendon and -Père Couplet supped together, and had a cup of tea after supper, an -occurrence which is journalized by his Lordship without any remark to -lead us to suppose that it was an extraordinary event. - -Dr. Lettsom has written largely, and plagiarized unreservedly, on -the subject of tea; adding, as Mr. Disraeli remarks, his own dry -medical reflections to the sparkling facts of others; but he was the -first, perhaps, who established the unwholesomeness of green tea. He -“distilled some green tea, injected three drachms of the very odorous -and pellucid water which he obtained, into the cavity of the abdomen -and cellular membrane of a frog, by which he paralysed the animal. -He applied it to the cavity of the abdomen and ischiatic nerves of -another, and the frog died; and this he thought proved green tea to be -unwholesome”--to the frogs, and so applied, as it undoubtedly was. Such -experiments, however, are unsatisfactory. _Nux vomica_, for instance, -deadly poison to man, may be taken, almost with impunity, by many -animals. - -The first brewers of tea were often sorely perplexed with the -preparation of the new mystery. “Mrs. Hutchinson’s great grandmother -was one of a party who sat down to the first pound of tea that ever -came into Penrith. It was sent as a present, and without directions how -to use it. They boiled the whole at once in a bottle, and sat down to -eat the leaves with butter and salt, and they wondered how any person -could like such a diet.” - -Steele, in “The Funeral,” laughs at the “cups which cheer, but not -inebriate.” “Don’t you see,” says he, “how they swallow gallons of the -juice of tea, while their own dock-leaves are trodden under foot?” - -What Bishop Berkeley did with “Tar Water,” when he made his Essay -thereupon a ground for a Dissertation on the Trinity, Joseph -Williams--“the Christian merchant” of the early and middle part of last -century, whose biography is well known to serious readers--did, when -he wrote to his friend Green upon the necessity of “setting the Lord -always before us.” When treating of this subject, the pious layman -adverts to a present of that new thing called “tea,” which Green had -sent him, and which had lost some of its flavour in the transit. There -is something amusing in the half sensual, half spiritual way in which -worthy Joseph Williams mixes his Jeremiad upon tea with one upon -human morals. “The tea,” he says, “came safe to hand, but it hath lost -the elegant flavour it had when we drank of it at Sherborne, owing, I -suppose, to its conveyance in paper, which, being very porous, easily -admits effluvia from other goods packed up with it, and emits effluvia -from the tea. Such are the moral tendencies of evil communications -among men, which nothing will prevent, (like canisters for tea,) but -taking to us the whole armour of God. Had the tea been packed up with -cloves, mace, and cinnamon, it would have been tinctured with these -sweet spices; so ‘he that walks with wise men shall be wise.’ He that -converses with heaven-born souls, whose conversation is in heaven, -whose treasure and whose hearts are there, will catch some sparks from -their holy fire; but ‘evil communications corrupt good manners.’ I have -put the tea into a canister, and am told it will recover its original -flavour, as the pious soul which hath received some ill impressions -from vicious or vain conversation will, by retiring from the world, -by communing with his own heart, by heavenly meditation, and fervent -prayer, recover his spiritual ardour.” The simile, however, limps -a little; for if every man canistered himself, and a good example, -from the world, the wide-spreading aroma of that example would never -seductively insinuate itself into the souls of men. It is by contact -we brighten, and sometimes suffer. We must not canister our virtue -as Mr. Williams did his tea: the latter was for selfish enjoyment. A -guinea may be kept for ever unstained by the commerce of the world, -in the very centre of the chest of avarice; but what good does it do -there? Let it circulate merrily through the hundred hands of the giant -Industry, and there will be more profit than evil effected by the -process. But good Joseph Williams would not have agreed with us, and he -_would_ take his saintly similes from traits of the table. “O that I -may walk humbly,” he says, “and look on myself, when fullest of divine -communications, but as a drinking-glass without a foot, and which, -consequently, cannot stand of itself, nor retain what may be put into -it.” A very tipsy-like simile! - -I may be permitted to add that, after all, religion happily proved -stronger than tea, but not without still stronger opposition; and we -are told by the disgusted _Connoisseur_, that “persons of fashion -cannot but lament that the Sunday evening tea-drinkings in Ranelagh -were laid aside, from a superstitious regard to religion.” A remark -which shows how very poor a _connoisseur_ this writer was in matters of -propriety. Not, indeed, that diet and divinity could not be seated at -the same table. On Easter-day, for instance, the first dish that used -to be placed before the jubilant guests was a red-herring on horseback, -set in a corn salad. Some hundred and fifty years ago, too, there was -a semi-religious, semi-roystering club held at the “Northern Ale-house -in St. Paul’s Alley,” every member of which was of the name of Adam. It -was formed in honour and remembrance of the first man. The honour was -more than Adam deserved; for the first created man not only betrayed -his trust, but he shabbily sought to lay the responsibility upon the -first woman. And as for “remembrance,” he has managed to survive -even the memory of the club founded by his namesakes, and long since -defunct. The members were hard drinkers, but not of saffron posset, -which Arabella, in “The Committee,” recommends as “a very good drink -against the heaviness of the spirits.” The Adamites mostly died, as the -legend says Adam himself did, of hereditary gout,--an assertion which -would seem to indicate that the author of it was of Hibernian origin! - -There are various passages of our poets which tend to show that “tea” -and “coffee” became, very early, fixed social observances. Pope, -writing, in 1715, of a lady who left town after the coronation of -George I., says that she went to the country-- - - “To part her time ’twixt reading and Bohea, - To muse, and spill her solitary tea; - Or o’er cold coffee trifle with the spoon, - Count the slow clock, and dine exact at noon.” - -At the same period, the more fortunate belles who remained in town made -of tea a means for other ends than shortening time. Dr. Young, in his -“Satires,” says of Memmia, that-- - - “Her two red lips affected zephyrs blow, - To cool the Bohea and inflame the beau; - While one white finger and a thumb conspire - To lift the cup and make the world admire.” - -Dr. Parr’s delicate compliment is well known; but I may be pardoned, -perhaps, for introducing it here. He was not very partial to the _Thea -Sinensis_, though lauded so warmly by a French writer, as “_nostris -gratissima Musis_;” but once being invited to take tea by a lady, he, -with a mixture of wit and gallantry, exclaimed, “_Nec teacum possum -vivere, nec sine te!_” The Christchurch men at Oxford were remarkable, -at an early period, for their love of tea; and, in reference to it, -they were pleasantly recommended to adopt as their motto: “_Te veniente -die, te decedente notamus._” In 1718, Pope draws an illustration -from tea, when writing to Mr. Digby: “My Lady Scudamore,” he remarks -jocosely, “from having rusticated in your company too long, really -behaves herself scandalously among us. She pretends to open her eyes -for the sake of seeing the sun, and to sleep because it is night; -drinks tea at nine in the morning, and is thought to have said her -prayers before; talks, without any manner of shame, of good books, and -has not seen Cibber’s play of ‘The Nonjuror.’” This is a pleasant -picture of the “good woman” of the last century. She drank tea at nine -in the morning, not sleeping on till noon, to be aroused at last, like -Belinda, by-- - - “Shock, who thought she slept too long, - Leap’d up and waked his mistress with his tongue.” - -Tea is little nutritious; it is often injurious from being drunk at -too high a temperature, when the same quantity of the fluid at a lower -temperature would be beneficial. It is astringent and narcotic; but its -effects are various on various individuals, and the cup which refreshes -and invigorates one, depresses or unnaturally excites and damages -the digestive powers of others. Green tea can in no case be useful, -except medicinally, in cases where there has been excessive fatigue of -the mind or body; and even then the dose should be small. Tea, as a -promoter of digestion, or rather, as a comforter of the stomach when -the digestive process has been completed, should not be taken earlier -than from three to four hours after the principal meal. Taken too -early, it disturbs digestion by arresting chymification, and by causing -distension. The astringency of tea is diminished by adding milk, and -its true taste more than its virtue is spoiled by the addition of sugar. - -These remarks are applicable to tea in its pure state, and not to the -adulterated messes which come from China, or are made up in England. -If sloe leaves here are made to pass for Souchong, so also is many an -unbroken chest of “tea” landed, which is largely composed of leaves -that are not the least akin to the genuine shrub. Black teas are -converted into green, some say by means of a poisonous dye, others by -roasting on copper; but I do not think this process is extensively -adopted. At one time the chests were rendered heavy by an adulterated -mixture of a considerable quantity of tea, and a not inconsiderable -quantity of earthy _detritus_, strongly impregnated with iron. But our -searchers soon put a stop to this knavery. They just dipped a powerful -magnet into the chest, stirred it about, and, when drawn out, the iron -particles, if any, were sure to be found adhering to the irresistible -“detective.” I have heard that Lady Morgan’s tea-parties, in Dublin, -were remarkable for the excellent qualities both of the beverage and -the company; and also for her Ladyship’s stereotyped joke, of “Sugar -yourselves, gentlemen, and I’ll milk you all.” - -Tea-parties, I may observe in conclusion, are not confined in China -to festive occasions. Tea is solemnly drunk on serious celebrations, -with squibs to follow. Thus, for instance, at the funeral of a Buddhist -Priest, there is thought taken for the living as well as for the dead, -for the appetites of mortals as well as for the gratification of -the gods. The latter are presented with various sorts of food, save -animal. It is placed on the altar, and it is eaten at night by the -deities, of course. While the ceremonies preliminary to the interment -are proceeding, a servant enters the temple, and hands tea round to -the reverend gentlemen who are officiating! The interment usually -takes place in the morning, and it is numerously attended; but if, -as the long procession is advancing, the hour of breakfast should -happen to arrive, the corpse is suddenly dropped in the highway, the -entire assembly rush to their respective homes, and not till they -have consumed their tea and toast, or whatever materials go to the -constituting of a Chinese _déjeûner_, do they return to carry the corse -to its final resting-place, and fire no end of squibs over it, in -testimony of their affliction. Which done, more refreshment follows; -and perhaps some of the mourners retire to Chinese taverns, where -inviting placards promise them “A cup of tea and a bird’s nest for -4_d._!” - - -COFFEE. - -The English and French dispute the honour of being the first -introducers of coffee into Western Europe. The Dutch assert that they -_assisted_ in this introduction; and, although coffee was not drunk at -Rome, until long after it had been known to, and tasted by, Italian -travellers at Constantinople, the Church looked with pleasure on a -beverage, one effect of which was to keep both Priests and people awake. - -An Arab author of the fifteenth century--Sherbaddin--asserts, that the -first man who drank coffee was a certain Muphti of Aden, who lived in -the ninth century of the Hegira, about A.D. 1500. The popular tradition -is, that the Superior of a Dervish community, observing the effects -of coffee-berries when eaten by some goats, rendering them much more -lively and skittish than before, prescribed it for the brotherhood, in -order to cure them of drowsiness and indolence. - -It was originally known by the name of _cahui_ or _kauhi_,--an -orthography which comes near to that of the ingenious Town-Councillor -of Leeds, who, writing out a bill of fare for a public breakfast, -contrived to spell “coffee” without employing a single letter that -occurs in that word,--to wit, _kawphy_! - -Sandys, a traveller of the seventeenth century, gives it no very -attractive character. Good for digestion and mirth, he allows it to be; -but he says that in taste as in colour it is nearly as black as soot. - -The coffee-houses of England take precedence of those of France, though -the latter have more enduringly flourished. In 1652, a Greek, in the -service of an English Turkey merchant, opened a house in London. “I -have discovered his hand-bill,” says Mr. Disraeli, “in which he sets -forth the virtue of the coffee drink, first publiquely made and sold -in England, by Pasqua Rosee, of St. Michael’s Alley, Cornhill, at the -sign of his own head.” Mr. Peter Cunningham cites a MS. of Oldys in his -possession, in which some fuller details of much interest are given. -Oldys says, “The first use of coffee in England was known in 1657, -when Mr. Daniel Edwards, a Turkey merchant, brought from Smyrna to -London one Pasqua Rosee, a Ragusan youth, who prepared this drink for -him every morning. But the novelty thereof drawing too much company to -him, he allowed his said servant, with another of his son-in-law’s, to -sell it publicly; and they set up the first coffee-house in London, -in St. Michael’s Alley, Cornhill. But they separating, Pasqua kept in -the house; and he who had been his partner obtained leave to pitch a -tent, and sell the liquor, in St. Michael’s churchyard.” Aubrey, in -his Anecdotes, states that the first vendor of coffee in London was -one Bowman, coachman to a Turkey merchant, named Hodges, who was the -father-in-law of Edwards, and the partner of Pasqua, who got into -difficulties, partly by his not being a freeman, and who left the -country. Bowman was not only patronized, but a magnificent contribution -of one thousand sixpences was presented to him, wherewith he made great -improvements in his coffee-house. Bowman took an apprentice, (Paynter,) -who soon learnt the mystery, and in four years set up for himself. The -coffee-houses soon became numerous: the principal were Farres’, the -Rainbow, at the Inner-Temple Gate, and John’s, in Fuller’s Rents. “Sir -Henry Blount,” says Aubrey, “was a great upholder of coffee, and a -constant frequenter of coffee-houses.” - -The frequenters of these places, however, were considered as -belonging to the idle and dissipated classes; and the reputation -was not altogether undeserved. Respectable people denounced the -coffee-drinking evils, illustriously obscure and loyal people dreaded -the politics that were discussed at the drinking, and tipsy satirists -hurled strong contempt and weak verse at the new-fangled fashion of -abandoning Canary wine for the Arabian infusion. The fashion, however, -extended rapidly; the more so, that cups were soon to be had at so low -a price, that the shops where they were sold went by the name of “Penny -Universities.” The ladies, who were excluded from public participation -in the bitter enjoyment, made some characteristic complaints against -the male drinkers, and intimated that the indulgence of coffee-drinking -would in time deteriorate, if not destroy, the human race; but the -imbibers heeded not the complaint, their answer to which was that of -Béranger’s gay marital philosopher:-- - - “_Nous laisserions finir le monde, - Si nos femmes le voulaient bien._” - -While the ladies, through their poetical representatives, were -complaining, male philanthropists quickly discerned the social uses of -the cup; and Sir Henry Blount acknowledges, with grateful pleasure, -that the custom, on the part of labouring men and apprentices, of -drinking a cup of coffee in the morning, instead of their ordinary -matinal draught of beer or wine, was chiefly owing to Sir James -Muddiford, “who introduced the practice hereof first in London.” - -The Government of the Stuarts, hating free discussion, and not -particularly caring for wit, watched the coffee-houses with much -jealousy, and placed as much restriction upon them as they possibly -could strain the law to. The vexatious proceeding did not secure the -desired result; and the coffee-house wits laughed at the Government. -The wits, however, were not always successful either in their praise -of, or satire against, coffee. Pepys, on the 15th of October, 1667, -went to the Duke’s House, to see the comedy of “Taruga’s Wiles; or, -the Coffee-House,” of which he says, “The most ridiculous, insipid -play that ever I saw in my life; and glad we were that Betterton had -no part in it.” But Pepys was probably not in the true vein to decide -critically that night; for his pretty maid Willett was sitting at his -side; and his wife, who was on the other, spoiled the effect of the -play by her remarks on the girl’s “confidence.” Perhaps one of the most -curious apologies for coffee-houses was that of Aubrey, who declared -that he should never have acquired so extensive an acquaintance but -for “the modern advantages of coffee-houses in this great city, before -which men knew not how to be acquainted but with their own relations -_and societies_.” And Aubrey, who has been called the small Boswell of -his day, “was a man who had more acquaintances than friends.” - -Yemen is the accepted birth-place, if we may so speak, of the -coffee-tree. Pietro de la Vallé introduced it into Italy, La Royne -into Marseilles, and Thevenot brought it with him to Paris. In 1643, -a Levantine opened a coffee-house in Paris, in the Place du Petit -Chatelet; but it was Soleiman Aga, Turkish Ambassador in Paris, in -1689, who was the medium through which coffee found its way into the -realm of fashion. Had it been really what some have supposed it to -have been,--the black broth of the Lacedæmonians,--he could have made -it modish by his method of service. This was marked by all the minute -details of oriental fashion,--small cups and foot-boys, gold-fringed -napkins and pages, coffee wreathing with smoke, and Ganymedes wreathed -with garlands, the first all aroma, and the hand-bearers all otto -of roses: the whole thing was too dazzling and dramatic to escape -adoption. But the intolerable vulgar would imitate their betters, and -coffee became as common at taverns as wine, beer, and smoking. It -would have inevitably been abandoned to coarse appetites only, but for -François Procope, a Sicilian, who, in the Rue de l’Ancienne Comédie, -exactly opposite to the old play-house in the Faubourg St. Germain, -opened an establishment expressly for the sale of coffee, but with such -innocent additional articles as ices, lemonade, and the like harmless -appliances, to make pleasant the seasons in their change. The _Café -Procope_ became the immediate resort of all the wits, philosophers, and -refined _roués_ of Paris. There Rousseau wrote or repeated the lines -which brought him into such frequent trouble. There Piron muttered -the verses with which the incitement of devils inspired him. There -Voltaire tried to rule supreme, but found himself in frequent bitter -contest with Palissot and Freron. The _Café Procope_ was the morning -journal, the foreign news-mart, the exchange,--literary, witty, and -emphatically charming. There Lamothe renewed the contest between the -ancient and modern, the classical and the romantic, drama. There the -brilliant Chevalier de St. Georges gave lessons in fencing to the -men of letters; and thence Dorat addressed his amorous missives to -Mademoiselle Saunier. There Marmontel praised Clairon, and the Marquis -de Bièvre tried his calembourgs; and there Duclos and Mercier made -their sketches of society, at once serious and sarcastic. The universal -favour in which coffee is still held in Paris, and the crowds which -still wait on “Andromaque,” sufficiently belie the famous prophecy of -Madame de Sévigné, that “coffee and Racine would have their day.” The -dark infusion reigns without a rival, the _demi-tasse_ follows dinner -oftener than “grace,” Rachel helps to keep Racine alive, and _café_, in -its turn, has the reputation of being _one_ of the favourite stimulants -of the great _tragédienne_. - -With regard to the making of coffee, there is no doubt that the -Turkish method of pounding the coffee in a mortar is infinitely -superior to grinding it in a mill, as with us. But after either method -the process recommended by M. Soyer may be advantageously adopted; -namely, “Put two ounces of ground coffee into a stew-pan, which set -upon the fire, stirring the coffee round with a spoon until quite hot, -then pour over a pint of boiling water; cover over closely for five -minutes, pass it through a cloth, warm again, and serve.” - -The chemist Laplace explained to Napoleon the results of various -methods of manipulation. “How is it, Sir,” said the Emperor, “that a -glass of water in which I melt a lump of sugar, always appears to me -to be superior in taste to one in which I put the same quantity of -powdered sugar?” “Sire,” said the sage, “there exist three substances, -whose elements are precisely the same; namely, sugar, gum, and starch. -They only differ under certain conditions, the secret of which Nature -has reserved to herself; and I believe that it is possible, that, by -the collision caused by the pestle, some of the portions of the sugar -pass into the condition of gum or starch, and thence arises the result -which has been observed.” - -Medical men are widely at issue as to the merits of coffee. All, -however, are agreed that it stimulates the brain, and banishes -somnolency. Voltaire and Buffon were great coffee-drinkers; but I do -not know that we are authorized to attribute the lucidity of the one -or the harmony of the other to the habit in question. Ability would be -cheaply purchased if that were the case; and the “royal road” would -have been discovered where it had never been looked for. - -The sleeplessness produced by coffee is not one of an unpleasant -character. It is simply a painless vigilance; but, if often repeated, -it may be exceedingly prejudicial. Brillat de Savarin illustrates the -power of coffee by remarking, that a man may live many years who takes -two bottles of wine daily; but the same quantity of strong coffee would -soon make him imbecile, or drive him into a consumption. - -Taken immediately after dinner, coffee aids the dyspeptic, especially -to digest fat and oily aliment, which, without such stimulant, would -undoubtedly create much disturbance. The Turks drink it to modify the -effects of opium. _Café au lait_, that is, three parts milk to one of -coffee, is the proper thing for breakfast; but the addition of milk -to that taken after dinner is a cruelty to the stomach. A Dutchman, -named Nieudorff, is said to have been the first who ventured on the -experiment of mixing milk with coffee. When he had the courage to do -this, the two liquids together were considered something of such an -abomination as we should now consider brown sugar with oysters. - -I must not omit to mention, that the favourite beverage of Voltaire, -at the _Café Procope_, was “_choca_,”--a mixture of coffee (with milk) -and chocolate. The Emperor Napoleon was as fond of the same mixture as -he was of Chambertin; and, in truth, I do not know a draught which so -perfectly soothes and revives as that of hot, well-frothed “_choca_.” - -Substances mixed with coffee, or substitutes for the berry altogether, -have been tried with various degrees of success. Roasted acorns have -been made to pass for it when ground. There is more chicory than coffee -consumed at the present time in France; and the infusion of the lupin -does duty for it at poor hearths in Flanders; as that of roasted rye -(the nearest resemblance to coffee) does in America. Experimentalists -say, that an excellent substitute for coffee may be made from -asparagus; and Frankfort, alarmed lest the complications of the -“Eastern Question” should deprive it of the facilities for procuring -the berry as heretofore, is gravely consulting as to whether asparagus -coffee may be a beverage likely to be acceptable as a substitute for -the much prized “_demi-tasse_.” - - -CHOCOLATE. - -Ferdinand Cortez went to Mexico in search of gold; but the first -discovery he made was of chocolate. The discovery was not welcomed -ecclesiastically, as coffee was. This new substance was considered a -sort of wicked luxury, at least for Monks, who were among the earliest -to adopt it, but who were solemnly warned against its supposed peculiar -effects. The moralists quite as eagerly condemned it; and in England -Roger North angrily asserted, that “the use of coffee-houses seems -much improved by a new invention, called ‘chocolate-houses,’ for the -benefit of rooks and cullies of quality, where gambling is added to -all the rest, and the summons of W---- seldom fails; as if the devil -had erected a new university, and these were the colleges of its -Professors, as well as his schools of discipline.” The Stuart jealousy -of these localities, where free discussion was amply enjoyed, seems -to have influenced the Attorney-General of James II.; for, although -they may not have been frequented, he says, by “the factious gentry -he so much dreaded,” he adds, “This way of passing time might have -been stopped at first, before people had possessed themselves of some -convenience from them of meeting for short dispatches, and passing -evenings with small expenses.” Of what chiefly recommended these -places, the stern official thus made a grievance. - -Chocolate (or, as the Mexicans term it, _chocolalt_) is the popular -name for the seeds of the cocoa, or, more correctly, the _cacao_, -plant, in a prepared state, generally with sugar and cinnamon. The -Mexicans improve the flavour of the inferior sorts of cacao seeds by -burying them in the earth for a month, and allowing them to ferment. -The nutritious quality of either cacao or chocolate is entirely owing -to the oil or butter of cacao which it contains. Cacao-nibs, the best -form of taking this production, are the seeds roughly crushed. When -the seed is crushed between rollers, the result is flake cacao. Common -cacao is the seed reduced to a paste, and pressed into cakes. The cheap -kinds of chocolate are said to be largely adulterated with lard, sago, -and red-lead,--a pernicious mixture for healthy stomachs; but what must -it be for weak stomachs craving for food at once nutritious and easy of -digestion? The “patent” chocolates of the shops are nothing more than -various modes of preparing the cacao seeds. - -The ladies of Mexico are so excessively fond of chocolate, that they -not only take it several times during the day, but they occasionally -have it brought to them in church, and during the service. A cup of -good chocolate may, indeed, afford the drinker strength and patience -to undergo a bad sermon. The Bishops opposed it for a time, but they -at length closed their eyes to the practice. I am afraid there is no -chance of the fashion being introduced into England. The advantages -would be acknowledged; but then there would be a savour of Popery -detected about it, that would inevitably cause its rejection. The -Church herself found a boon in this exquisite supporter of strength. -The Monks took it of a morning before celebrating Mass, even in Lent. -The orthodox and strong-stomached raised a dreadful cry at the scandal; -but Escobar metaphysically proved, that chocolate made with water did -not break a fast; thus establishing the ancient maxim, “_Liquidum non -frangit jejunium._” - -Spain welcomed the gift of chocolate made her by Mexico with as -much enthusiasm as she did that of gold by Peru; the metal she soon -squandered, but chocolate is still to be found in abundance in the -Peninsula: it is an especial favourite with ladies and Monks, and it -always appears on occasions when courtesy requires that refreshments -be offered. The Spanish Monks sent presents of it to their brethren -in French monasteries; and Anne of Austria, daughter of Philip II. -of Spain, when she brought across the Pyrenees her hand, but not her -heart, to the unenergetic Louis XIII., brought a supply of chocolate -therewith; and henceforth it became an established fact. In the days -of the Regency it was far more commonly consumed than coffee; for it -was then taken as an agreeable aliment, while coffee was still looked -upon as a somewhat strange beverage, but certainly akin to luxury. In -the opinion of Linnæus it must have surpassed all other nutritious -preparations, or that naturalist would hardly have conferred upon it, -as he did, the proud name of _Theobroma_, “food for the gods!” - -Invalids will do well to remember, that chocolate made with vanilla -is indigestible, and injurious to the nerves. Indeed, there are few -stomachs at all that can bear chocolate as a daily meal. It is a highly -concentrated aliment; and all such cease to act nutritiously if taken -into constant use. - -We will now look into some of those famous resorts of by-gone days, -where coffee and chocolate were prepared, and wit was bright and -spontaneous. - - - - -THE OLD COFFEE-HOUSES. - - -The “Grecian” appears to have been the oldest of the better-known -coffee-houses, and to have lasted the longest. It was opened by -Constantine, a Grecian, “living in Threadneedle-street, over against -St. Christopher’s Church,” in the early part of the last half of the -seventeenth century. Its career came to a close towards the middle of -the nineteenth century; namely, in 1843, when the Grecian Coffee-house, -then in Devereux-court, Strand, where it had existed for very many -years, was converted into the “Grecian Chambers,” or lodgings for -bachelors. - -Constantine not only sold “the right Turkey coffee berry, or -chocolate,” but gave instructions how to “prepare the said liquors -gratis.” The “Grecian” was the resort rather of the learned than the -dissipated. The antiquarians sat at its tables; and, despising the -news of the day, discussed the events of the Trojan war, and similar -lively, but remote, matters. The laborious trifling was ridiculed by -the satirists; and it is clear that there were some pedants as well -as philosophers there. It was a time when both sages and sciolists -wore swords; and it is on record that two friendly scholars, sipping -their coffee at the “Grecian,” became enemies in argument, the subject -of which was the accent of a Greek word. Whatever the accent ought -to have been, the quarrel was acute, and its conclusion grave. The -scholars rushed into Devereux-court, drew their swords, and, as one -was run through the body and killed on the spot, it is to be supposed -that he was necessarily wrong. But the duel was the strangest method -of settling a question in grammar that I ever heard of. Still it was -rather the scholars than the rakes who patronized the “Grecian;” and -there were to be found the Committee of the Royal Society, and Oxford -Professors, enjoying their leisure and hot cups, after philosophical -discussion and scientific lecturing; and even the Privy Council Board -sometimes assembled there to take coffee after Council. - -The “coffee-houses,” which were resorted to for mere conversation as -well as coffee, began on a first floor; they were the seed, as it -were, whence has arisen the political and exclusive “club” of the -present day. The advantages of association were first experienced in -coffee-houses; but at the same time was felt the annoyance caused by -intrusive and unwelcome strangers. The club, with its ballot-box to -settle elections of members, was the natural result. - -William Urwin’s Coffee-house, known as “Will’s,” from its owner’s name, -and recognised as the “Wits’,” from its company, was on the first floor -of the house at the west corner of Bow-street and Russell-street, -Covent Garden. In the last half of the seventeenth century, it was at -the height of its good fortune and reputation. The shop beneath it was -kept by a woollen-draper. - -Tom Brown says that a wit was set up at a small cost; he was made -by “peeping once a day in at Will’s,” and by relating “two or three -second-hand sayings.” It was at Will’s that Dryden “pedagogued” -without restraint, accepted flattery without a blush, and praised with -happy complacency the perfection of his own works. He was the great -attraction of the place, and his presence there of an evening filled -the room with admiring listeners, or indiscreet adulators. Dryden -had the good sense to retire early, when the tables were full, and -he knew he had made a favourable impression, which the company might -improve in his absence. Addison, more given to jolly fellowship, sat -late with those who tarried to drink. Pepys, recording his first visit, -in February, 1663-4, says that he stepped in on his way to fetch his -wife, “where Dryden the poet, (I knew at Cambridge,) and all the wits -of the town, and Harris the player, and Mr. Hoole of our College. And -had I had time then, as I could at other times, it will be good coming -thither; for there I perceive is very witty and pleasant discourse. But -I could not tarry; and, as it was late, they were all ready to go away.” - -The reign of Dryden at Will’s was not, however, without its pains. -Occasionally, a daring stranger, like young Lockier, raw from the -country, would object to the _dicta_ of the despot. Thus, when Dryden -praised his “Mac Flecknoe,” as the first satire “written in heroics,” -the future Dean timidly suggested that the “Lutrin” and the “_Secchia -Rapita_” were so written; and Dryden acknowledged that his corrector -was right. The London beaux would have been afraid, or incapable, -of setting Dryden right; they were sufficiently happy if they were -but permitted to dip their fingers into the poet’s snuff-box, and, -at a separate table, listen to the criticisms uttered by the graver -authorities who were seated round another, at the upper end of the -room. Of the disputes that there arose, “glorious John” was arbiter; -for his particular use a chair was especially reserved; therein -enthroned, he sat by the hearth or the balcony, according to the -season, and delivered judgments which were not always final. - -No man was better qualified to do so, for the “specialty” of Will’s -Coffee-house was poetry. Songs, epigrams, and satires, circulated from -table to table; and the wits judged plays, even Dryden’s, until the -playwrights began to satirize the wits. With Dryden, “Will’s” lost -some of its dignity. Late hours, card-playing, and politics; poets -more didactic in their verse, and essayists more instructive in their -prose, than in their daily practice; “dissipateurs” like Addison, and -peers who shared in Addison’s lower tastes, without either his talent -or occasional refinement,--spoiled the character of “Will’s,” where, by -the way, Pope had been introduced by Sir Charles Wogan, though, years -before, in his youth, he had been proud to follow old Wycherley about -from coffee-house to coffee-house; and then “Button’s” attracted the -better portion of the company, and left Will’s to the vulgar and the -witless. - -“Button’s” Coffee-house was so named from its original proprietor, who -had been a servant of the Countess of Warwick, the wife of Addison. -It was situated in Great Russell-street, on the south side, about two -doors from Covent Garden. What Dryden had been at “Will’s,” Addison was -at “Button’s.” There,--after writing during the morning at his house -in St. James’s Place, where his breakfast-table was attended by such -men as Steele, Budgell, Philips, Carey, Davenant, and Colonel Brett, -with some of whom he generally dined at a tavern,--he was to be found -of an evening, until the supper hour called him and his companions to -some other tavern, where, if not at Button’s, they made a night of -it. Pope was of the company for almost a year, but left it because -the late hours injured his health; and furthermore, perhaps, for the -reason, that his irritable temper had rendered him unpopular, and -that he had so provoked Ambrose Philips, that the latter suspended a -birchen rod over Pope’s usual seat, in intimation of what the ordinary -occupant would get if he ventured into it. The Buttonians were famous -for the fierceness of their criticism, but it appears to have been -altogether a better organized establishment than Will’s; for while -the parish registers show that the landlord of the latter was fined -for misdemeanour, the vestry-books of St. Paul (Covent Garden), prove -that Button paid “for two places in the pew No. 18, on the south side -of the north aisle, £2. 2_s._;” and charity leads us to conclude that -Daniel and his wife occupied the places so paid for, and were orthodox -as well as loyal. The “Lion’s Head” of the “Guardian,” which was put -up at Button’s, over the box destined to receive contributions for the -editor, is now at Woburn, in the possession of the Duke of Bedford. - -Of coffee-houses that went by the name of “Tom’s” there were three. At -the one in Birchin-lane, Garrick occasionally appeared among the young -merchants; and Chatterton, before despair slew even ambition, more than -once dined. At the second house so called, in Devereux-court, many of -the scholars, critics, and scientific men of the last century used to -congregate. There Akenside essayed to rule over the tables as Dryden -had done at “Will’s,” and Addison at “Button’s;” but his imperious rule -was often overthrown by “flat rebellion.” _The_ “Tom’s” was opposite -“Button’s,” and stood on the north side of Great Russell-street, No. -17. It received its name from the Christian appellation of its master, -Thomas West, who committed suicide in 1722. If guests gained celebrity -in the latter days at “Will’s” for writing a “posie for a ring,” so at -“Tom’s” Mr. Ince was held in due respect, for the reason that he had -composed a solitary paper for the “Spectator.” It was a place where the -tables were generally crowded from the time of Queen Anne to that of -George III. Seven hundred of the nobility, foreign Ministers, gentry, -and geniuses of the age, subscribed a guinea each, in 1714, for the -erection of a card-room; and this fact, with the additional one that, -only four years later, an enlarged room for cards and conversation was -constructed, may serve to show by what sort of people, and for what -particular purposes, “Tom’s” was patronized. - -At the time that White’s Chocolate-house was opened at the bottom of -St. James’s-street,--the close of the last century,--it was probably -thought vulgar; for there was a garden attached, and it had a suburban -air. At the tables in the house or garden more than one highwayman -took his chocolate, or threw his main, before he quietly mounted his -horse and rode slowly down Piccadilly towards Bagshot. Before the -establishment was burned down, in 1733, it was famous rather for -intensity of gaming than excellence of chocolate. It arose from its -ashes, and settled, at the top of the street, into a fixedness of -fashion that has never swerved. Gallantry, pleasure, and entertainment -were the characteristics of the place. The celebrated Lord Chesterfield -there “gamed, and pronounced witticisms among the boys of quality.” -Steele dated all his love-news in the “Tatler” from White’s. It was -stigmatized as “the common rendezvous of infamous sharpers and noble -cullies;” and bets were laid to the effect that Sir William Burdett, -one of its members, would be the first Baronet who would be hanged. The -gambling went on till dawn of day; and Pelham, when Prime Minister, -was not ashamed to divide his time between his official table and the -picquet-table at White’s. Selwyn, like Chesterfield, enlivened the room -with his wit. As a sample of the spirit of betting which prevailed, -Walpole quotes “a good story made at White’s.” A man dropped down -dead at the door, and was carried in; the Club immediately made bets -whether he was dead or not, and, when they were going to bleed him, -the wagerers for his death interposed, and said it would affect the -fairness of the bet! - -Some of the old rules of the houses are rich in “table traits.” Thus, -in 1736, every member was required to pay an extra guinea a year -“towards having a good cook.” The supper was on table at ten o’clock; -the bill at twelve. In 1758, it was agreed that he who transgressed -the rules for balloting should pay the supper reckoning. In 1797 -we find, “Dinner at 10_s._ 6_d._ per head, (malt liquor, biscuits, -oranges, apples, and olives included,) to be on table at six o’clock; -the bill to be brought at nine.” “That no hot suppers be provided, -unless particularly ordered; and then be paid for at the rate of 8_s._ -per head. That in one of the rooms there be laid every night (from the -Queen’s to the King’s birthday) a table, with cold meat, oysters, &c. -Each person partaking thereof to pay 4_s._, malt liquors only included.” - -Colley Cibber was a member, but, as it would seem, an honorary one -only, who dined with the Manager of the Club, and was tolerated -afterwards by the company for the sake of his wit. Mr. Cunningham -states, that at the supper given by the Club in 1814, at Burlington -House, to the Allied Sovereigns, there were covers laid for 2,400 -people, and that the cost was “£9,849. 2_s._ 6_d._” “Three weeks after -this, (July 6, 1814,) the Club gave a dinner to the Duke of Wellington, -which cost £2,840. 10_s._ 9_d._” The dinner given, in the month of -February of the present year, to Prince George of Cambridge, was one -not to welcome a victorious warrior, but to cheer an untried, about to -go forth to show himself worthy of his spurs. White’s ceased to be an -open Chocolate-house in 1736, from which period it has been as private -an establishment as a Club can be said to be. - -The politicians had their coffee-houses as well as the wits. The “Cocoa -Tree,” in St. James’s-street, was the Tory house in the reign of Queen -Anne. The “St. James’s” was the Whig house. It was a well-frequented -house in the latter days of George II., when Gibbon recorded his -surprise at seeing a score or two of the noblest and wealthiest in the -land, seated in a noisy coffee-room, at little tables covered by small -napkins, supping off cold meat or sandwiches, and finishing with strong -punch and confused politics. - -The St. James’s Coffee-house ranked Addison, Swift, Steele, and, -subsequently, Goldsmith and Garrick, among its _habitués_. It had a -more solid practical reputation than any of the other coffee-houses; -for within its walls Goldsmith’s poem of “Retaliation” originated. -But politics was its “staple;” and poor politicians seem to have been -among its members, seeing that many of them were in arrears with their -subscriptions: but these were probably the outer-room men; for the -magnates, who were accustomed to sit and watch the line of Bourbon, -within the steam of the great coffee-pot, were doubtless punctual -in their payments ere they could have earned the privilege. And yet -their poetical acumen was often more correct than their political -discernment; for while the company at Button’s ascribed the “Town -Eclogues” to Gay, the coffee-drinkers at St. James’s were unanimous in -giving them to a lady of quality. - -Of the coffee-houses of a second order, the “Bedford,” in Covent -Garden, was probably the first; but, for good-fellowship, it equalled -any of the more exclusive houses; for Garrick, and Quin, and Murphy, -and Foote, were of the company. Wit was the serious occupation of all -its members; and it never gave any of them serious trouble to produce -in abundance. Quin, above all, was brilliant in the double achievements -of Epicureanism and sparkling repartee. Garrick, in allusion to the -sentiments often expressed here by his brother actor, wrote the -epigrammatic lines, supposed to be uttered by Quin, in reference -to a discussion on embalming the dead, and which will be found in -a subsequent chapter, under the head of “Table Traits of the last -Century.” - -Æsopus, the actor, who was to Cicero what Quin was to George the -Third,--he “taught the boy to speak,”--Æsopus was as great an epicure, -in his way, as Quin himself. It is related of him, that one day he -dined off a costly dish of birds, the whole of which, when living, had -been taught either to sing or speak. Æsopus was as fond of such a dish -as his fellow-comedian, Quin, was of mullet; for which, and for some -other of his favourite _morceaux_, he used to say that a man ought to -have a swallow as long as from London to Botany Bay, and palate all the -way! When the fish in question was in season, his first inquiry of the -servant who used to awaken him was, “Is there any mullet in the market -this morning, John?” and if John replied in the negative, his master’s -reported rejoinder was, “Then call me at nine to-morrow, John.” - -The Bedford Coffee-house had its disadvantages, as when bullies, like -Tiger Roach, endeavoured to hold sovereignty over the members. But -usurpers like the Tiger were deposed as easily by the cane as by the -sword; but such occurrences marred the peace of the coffee-house, -nevertheless. It was, indeed, a strange company that sometimes was to -be found within these houses. At Batem’s, the City House, patronized -by Blackmore, the brother of Lord Southwell was to be found enacting -the parasite, and existing by the aid of men who thought his wit -worth paying for. Child’s Coffee-house, St. Paul’s Church-yard, -was patronized by the Clergy, who assembled there, especially the -younger Clergy, in gowns, cassocks, and scarfs, smoked till they were -invisible, and obtained the honorary appellation of “Doctor” from the -waiters. Clerical visitants were also to be found at the “Smyrna,” in -Pall Mall. Swift was often there with Prior; and the politics of the -day were so loudly discussed, that the chairmen and porters in waiting -outside used to derive that sort of edification therefrom which is now -to be had in the cheap weekly periodicals. “Garraway’s” takes us once -more into the City. Garway, as the original proprietor was called, -was one of the earliest sellers of tea in London; and his house was -frequented by nobles who had business in the City, who attended the -lotteries at his house, or who wished to partake of his tea and coffee. -Foreign Bankers and Ministers patronized “Robin’s;” the buyers and -sellers of Stock collected at “Jonathan’s;” and the shipping interest -went, as now, to “Lloyd’s.” All these places were in full activity of -business and coffee-drinking in the reign of Queen Anne. Finally, the -lawyers crowded “Squire’s,” in Fulwood’s Rents; and there, it will be -remembered, Sir Roger de Coverley smoked a pipe, over a dish of coffee, -with the Spectator. But enough of these places, whose names are more -familiar to many of us than their whereabout, but whose connexion -with what may be called the table life of past times gives me warrant -for the notice of them, with which, perhaps, I have only troubled the -reader. I will only add, that the ceremony of serving chocolate was -never such a solemnity in England as in France. In the latter country, -as late as the days of Louis XVI., a “man of condition” required no -less than four footmen, each with two watches in his fob, according to -the fashion, to help him to take a single cup of chocolate. One bore -the tray, and one the chocolate-pot, a third presented the cup, and a -fourth stood in waiting with a napkin!--and all this coil to carry a -morning draught to a poor wretch, whose red heels to his shoes were -symbols of the rank which gave him the privilege of being helpless. - -The old coffee-houses were not simply resorts for the critics, the -politicians, and the fine gentlemen. Gay, writing to Congreve, in -1715, says, “Amidst clouds of tobacco, at a coffee-house, I write -this letter. There is a grand revolution at Will’s. Moira has quitted -for a coffee-house in the City; and Titcomb is restored, to the great -joy of Cromwell, who was at a great loss for a person to converse -with upon the Fathers and church history. The knowledge I gain from -him is entirely in painting and poetry; and Mr. Pope owes all his -skill in astronomy to him and Mr. Whiston.” Pope learnt his astronomy -by the assistance of what Moore calls, “the sun of the table;” for, -adding a postscript to Gay’s letter to Congreve, he says, “I sit up -till two o’clock, over Burgundy and Champagne.” Ten years before, the -coffee-house and London life had less charms for him. Witness the -paragraph in the letter to Wycherley, in 1705, to this effect: “I have -now changed the scene from town to country,--from Will’s Coffee-house -to Windsor Forest. I found no other difference than this betwixt the -common town wits and the downright country fools,--that the first are -partly in the wrong, with a little more flourish and gaiety; and the -last, neither in the right nor the wrong, but confirmed in a stupid -settled medium, betwixt both.” But, ten years later than the period of -Pope’s postscript to Congreve, in which he boasted of sitting over wine -during the “wee short hours ayont the twal’,” as Burns calls them, we -find the boaster stricken. Swift, writing to him, in 1726, remarks, -“I always apprehend most for you after a great dinner; for the least -transgression of yours, if it be only two bits and one sup more than -your stint, is a great debauch, for which you certainly pay more than -those sots who are carried drunk to bed.” - -In England, the chocolate and coffee-houses were not confined to the -metropolis and its rather rakish inhabitants. The Universities had -their coffee-houses, as London had; and the company there, albeit -_alumni_ of the various Colleges, do not appear to have been remarkable -for refinement. Dr. Ewins, at Cambridge, in the last century, acquired -the ill-will both of Town and Gown for exercising a sort of censorship -over their conduct. According to Cole, the Antiquary, they needed -it; for he says, with especial allusion to the Undergraduates, that -“they never were more licentious, riotous, and debauched. They often -broke the Doctor’s windows,” he adds, “as they said he had been caught -listening on their staircases and (at their) doors.” The Doctor, like -his adversaries, was in the habit of visiting the Union Coffee-house, -opposite St. Radigund’s (or Jesus) lane,--a fashionable rendezvous. He -was there one night about Christmas, 1771, or January, 1772, “when some -Fellow-Commoners, who owed him a grudge, sitting in the box near him, -in order to affront him, pretended to call their dog ‘Squintum,’ and -frequently repeated the name very loudly in the coffee-house; and, in -their joviality, swore many oaths, and caressed their dog. Dr. Ewin, as -did his father, squinted very much, as did Whitefield, the Methodist -teacher, who was vulgarly called Dr. Squintum, from the blemish in -his eyes. Dr. Ewin was sufficiently mortified to be so affronted in -public. However, he carefully marked down the number of oaths sworn -by these gentlemen, whom he made to pay severely the penalty of five -shillings for each oath, which amounted to a good round sum.” The next -week, ballad-singers sang, in the streets of Cambridge, a ballad, which -they gave away to all who would accept a copy, and from which the -following verses are extracted. They will show--if nothing else--that -the University coffee-house poet was less elegant than Horace, and -that the “well of English” into which he had dipped was not altogether -“undefiled:”-- - - “Of all the blockheads in the Town, - That strut and bully up and down, - And bring complaints against the Gown, - There’s none like Dr. Squintum. - - “With gimlet eyes and dapper wig, - This Justice thinks he looks so big: - A most infernal stupid gig - Is this same Dr. Squintum. - - “What pedlar can forbear to grin, - Before his Worship that has been, - To think what folly lurks within - This Just Ass Dr. Squintum?” - -Old René d’Anjou used to say, that, as soon as a man had breakfasted, -it was his bounden duty to devote himself to the great business of the -day,--think of dinner. We will in some wise follow the instructions -given,--first, however, saying a word or two upon French coffee-houses, -and then upon those who naturally take precedence of “dinners,”--the -cooks by whom dinners are prepared. - - - - -THE FRENCH CAFÉS. - - -In the reign of Louis XV. there were not less than six hundred _cafés_ -in Paris. London, at the same period, could not count as many dozens. -Under Louis Napoleon, the _cafés_ have reached to the amazing number of -between three and four thousand. All these establishments acknowledge -the _Café Procope_ as the founder of the dynasty, although, indeed, -there were coffee-vendors in Paris before the time of the accomplished -Sicilian. “_Vixerunt fortes ante Agamemnona._” - -The consumption of coffee in Paris, at the period of the breaking out -of the Revolution, was something enormous. The French West-Indian -Islands furnished eighty millions of pounds annually, and this -was irrespective of what was derived from the East. The two -sources together were not sufficient to supply the kingdom. Thence -adulterations, fortunes to the adulterators, and that supremacy of -chicory, which has destroyed the well-earned reputation of French -coffee. - -I have already spoken of the _Café Procope_, and here I will only add -an anecdote illustrative of the scenes that sometimes occurred there, -and of the national character generally in the reign of Louis XV. One -afternoon that M. de Saint Foix was seated at his usual table, an -officer of the King’s Body-Guard entered, sat down, and ordered “a -cup of coffee, with milk, and a roll,” adding, “It will serve me for -a dinner!” At this Saint Foix remarked aloud, that “a cup of coffee, -with milk, and a roll, was a confoundedly poor dinner.” The officer -remonstrated; Saint Foix reiterated his remark, and again and again -declared, that nothing the gallant officer could say to the contrary, -would convince him that a cup of coffee, with milk, and a roll, was -_not_ a confoundedly poor dinner. Thereupon a challenge was given and -accepted, and the whole of the persons present adjourned as spectators -of a fight, which ended by Saint Foix receiving a wound in the arm. -“That is all very well,” said the wounded combatant; “but I call you -to witness, gentlemen, that I am still profoundly convinced, that a -cup of coffee, with milk, and a roll, is a confoundedly poor dinner!” -At this moment, the principals were arrested, and carried before the -Duke de Noailles, in whose presence Saint Foix, without waiting to -be questioned, said, “Monseigneur, I had not the slightest intention -of offending the gallant officer, who, I doubt not, is an honourable -man; but Your Excellency can never prevent my asserting, that a cup -of coffee, with milk, and a roll, is a confoundedly poor dinner.” -“Why, so it is,” said the Duke. “Then I am not in the wrong,” remarked -Saint Foix; “and a cup of coffee,”----at these words Magistrates, -delinquents, and auditory, burst into a roar of laughter, and the -antagonists became friends. It was a more bloodless issue than that -which occurred to Michel Lepelletier, in later years, at the _Café -Février_. He was seated at dinner there, when an _ex-garde-du-corps_, -named Paris, approached him, inquired if he were the Lepelletier who -had voted for the death of Louis XVI., and, receiving an affirmative -reply, drew forth a dagger, and swiftly slew him on the spot. - -Before Procope, the Armenian, Pascal, sold coffee at the Fair of -St. Germain, at three-halfpence a cup; and the beverage was sung by -the poet Thomas in terms not exactly like those with which Delille -subsequently sang the virtues of the tree. The French coffee-houses at -once gained the popularity to which they aspired. To Pascal succeeded -Maliban, and then Gregoire opened his establishment in the Rue Mazarin, -in the vicinity of players and play-goers. At the same time, there -was a man in Paris, called “the lame Candiot,” who carried ready-made -coffee about from door to door, and sold it for a penny per cup, -sugar included. The _café_ at the foot of the bridge of Notre-Dame -was founded by Joseph; that at the foot of the bridge of St. Michel, -by Etienne; and both of these are more ancient than that of Procope, -who was the first, however, who made a fortune by his speculation. The -_Quai de l’Ecole_ had its establishment, (the _Café Manoury_,) which -I believe still exists, as does the _Café de la Régence_, which dates -from the time of the Regent Duke of Orleans, and where Rousseau used -to play at chess, and appear in his Armenian costume. It was also -frequented, _incog._, by the Emperor Joseph. The oldest _café_ in the -Palais Royal is the celebrated _Café de Foy_, so called from the name -of its founder. Carl Vernet was one of its most constant patrons. He -was there on one occasion, when some repairs were going on, and, in -his impatience, he flung a wet colouring brush from him, which struck -the ceiling and left a spot. He immediately ascended the ladder, and -with a touch of his finger converted the stain into a swallow; and -his handywork was still to be seen on the ceiling, when I was last -in Paris. It was before the _Café de Foy_ that Camille Desmoulins -harangued the mob, in July, 1789, with such effect, that they took up -arms, destroyed the Bastille, and inaugurated the Revolution. - -The _Café de Valois_ will long be remembered for its aristocratic -character; that of Montansier, on the other hand, was remarkable for -the coarseness of its frequenters, and the violence with which they -discussed politics, especially at the period of the Restoration. The -_Café du Caveau_ was more joyously noisy with its gay artists and broad -songs. The Empire brought two establishments into popular favour, both -of which appealed to the lovers of beauty as well as of coffee. The -first was the _Café du Bosquet_, and the second the _Café des Mille -Colonnes_. Each was celebrated for the magnificent attractions of the -presiding lady,--the _belle limonadière_, as she was at first called, -or the _dame du comptoir_, as refinement chose to name her. Madame -Romain, at the _Mille Colonnes_, had a longer reign than her rival; -and the lady was altogether a more remarkable person. In the reign -of Louis XVIII., her seat was composed of the throne of Jerome, King -of Westphalia,--which was sold by auction on the bankruptcy of his -Majesty. Madame Romain descended from it, like a weary Queen, to take -refuge in a nunnery; and, curiously enough, the ex-King has recovered -his “throne,” which now figures, in the reduced aspect of a simple -arm-chair, in the _salon_ of his residence at the Palais Royal. After -the abdication of Madame Romain, the _Mille Colonnes_ endeavoured to -secure success by very meretricious means. Girls of a brazen quality -of beauty bore through the apartments flaming bowls of punch, usually -taken after the coffee; and the beverage and the bearers were equally -bad. - -As the _Café Chrêtien_ was once thoroughly Jacobin, so the _Café -Lemblin_ became entirely Imperial, and was the focus of the Opposition -after the return of the Bourbons. It was famous for its chocolate, -as well as for its coffee. When the Allies were at Paris, it was -hardly safe for the officers to enter the _Café Lemblin_, and many -scenes of violence are described as having occurred there, and many -a duel was fought with fatal effect, after a _café_ dispute between -French and foreign officers,--and all for national honour. The Bourbon -officers were far more insulting in the _cafés_ to the ex-imperial -“braves,” than the latter were to the invading Captains,--and they -generally paid dearly for their temerity. Finally,--for to name all -the _cafés_ in Paris, would require an encyclopædia,--it is worthy of -notice that Tortoni’s, which is now a grave adjunct to the _Bourse_, -first achieved success by the opposite process of billiard-playing. -A broken-down provincial advocate, Spolar of Rennes, came to Paris -with a bad character, and a capital cue; and the latter he handled so -wonderfully at the _Café Tortoni_, that all Paris went to witness his -feats. Talleyrand patronized him, backed his playing, and gained no -inconsiderable sum by the cue-driving of Spolar, whose star culminated -when he was appointed “Professor of Billiards to Queen Hortense,”--an -appointment which sounds strange, but which was thought natural enough -at the time; and, considering all things, so it was. - -There is one feature in the French _cafés_ which strikes an observer -as he first contemplates it. I allude to the intensity, gravity, and -extent of the domino-playing. A quartett party will spend half the -evening at this mystery, with nothing to enliven it but the gentlest -of conversation, and the lightest of beer, or a simple _petit verre_. -The Government wisely thinks that a grave domino-player can be given to -neither immorality nor conspiracies. But a British Government proudly -scorns to tolerate such insipidities in Britons. British tradesmen, -at the end of the day, may be perfectly idle, spout blasphemy, and -get as drunk as they please, in any London tavern, provided they -do not therewith break the peace; _but_, let the reprobates only -remain obstinately sober, and play at dominoes, then they offend the -immaculate justice of Justices, and landlords and players are liable -to be fined. So, on Sabbath nights, the working-classes have thrown -open to their edification the gin-palaces, which invite not in vain; -but if one of these same classes should, on the same Sunday evening, -knock at the religiously-closed door of a so-called free library, the -secretary’s maid who answers the appeal would be pale with horror at -the atrocity of the applicant. And what is the bewildered Briton to do? -He looks in at church, where, if there be a few free seats, they have a -look about them so as to make him understand that he is in his fustian, -and that he and the miserable sinners in their fine cloth are not on an -equality in the house of God; and so he turns sighingly away, and goes -where the law allows him,--to the house of gin. - -But, leaving the further consideration of these matters to my readers, -let us now address ourselves to the sketching of a class whose most -illustrious members have borne witness to their own excellency, not -exactly according to the fashion spoken of by Shakspeare; namely, by -putting a strange face on their own perfection. - - - - -THE ANCIENT COOK, AND HIS ART. - - -It is an incontestable fact, that he who lives soberly does not depend -upon his cook for the pleasure which he derives from his repast. -Nevertheless, the cook is one of the most important of personages; -and even appetite, without him, would not be of the value that it is -at present. A great _artiste_ knows his vocation. When the cook of -Louis XVIII. was reproached, by His Majesty’s Physician, with ruining -the royal health by savoury juices, the dignitary of the kitchen -sententiously remarked, that it was the office of the cook to supply -His Majesty with pleasant dishes, and that it was the duty of the -doctor to enable the King to digest them. The division of labour, and -the responsibilities of office, could not have been better defined. - -From old times the cook has had a proper sense of the solemn importance -of his wonderful art. The _Coquus Gloriosus_, in a fragment of -Philemon, shows us what these artists were in the very olden time. -He swears by Minerva that he is delighted at his success, and that -he cooked a fish so exquisitely, that it returned him admiring and -grateful looks from the frying-pan! He had not covered it with grated -cheese, not disguised it with sauce; but he had treated it with such -daintiness and delicacy, that, even when fully cooked, it lay on the -dish as fresh-looking as if it had just been taken from the lake. This -result seems to have been a rarity; for, when the fish was served -up at table, the delighted guests tore it from one another, and a -running struggle was kept up around the board to get possession of -this exquisitely prepared _morceau_. “And yet,” says the cook, “I -had nothing better to exhibit my talent upon than a wretched river -fish, nourished in mud. But, O Jupiter Saviour! if I had only had at -my disposal some of the fish of Attica or Argos, or a conger from -pleasant Sicyon, like those which Neptune serves to the gods in -Olympus, why, the guests would have thought they had become divinities -themselves. Yes,” adds the culinary boaster, “I think I may say that -I have discovered the principle of immortality, and that the odour of -my dishes would recall life into the nostrils of the very dead.” The -resonant vaunt is not unlike that of Béchamel, who said that, with the -sauce that he had invented, a man would experience nothing but delight -in eating his own grandfather! - -Hegesippus further illustrates the vanity of the _genus coquorum_ -of _his_ days. In a dialogue between Syrus and his chef, the master -declares that the culinary art appears to have reached its limit, and -that he would fain hear something novel upon the subject. The cook’s -reply admits us to an insight into ancient manners. “I am not one of -those fellows,” says the personage in question, “who are content to -suppose that they learn their art by wearing an apron for a couple -of years. My study of the art has not been superficial: it has been -the work of my life; and I have learned the use and appliances of -every herb that grows--for kitchen purposes. But I especially shine -in getting up funeral dinners. When the mourners have returned from -the doleful ceremony, it is I who introduce them to the mitigated -affliction department. While they are yet in their mourning attire, -I lift the lids of my kettles, and straightway the weepers begin to -laugh. They sit down with their senses so enchanted, that every guest -fancies himself at a wedding. If I can only have all I require, -Syrus,” adds the artist, “if my kitchen be only properly furnished, -you will see renewed the scenes which used to take place on the coasts -frequented by the Syrens. It will be impossible for any one to pass the -door; all who scent the process will be compelled, despite themselves, -to stop. There they will stand, mute, open-mouthed, and nostrils -extended; nor will it be possible to make them ‘move on,’ unless -the police, coming to their aid, shut out the irresistible scent by -plugging their noses.” - -Posidippus shows us a classical master-cook instructing his pupils. -Leucon is the name of the teacher; and the first truth he impresses on -his young friend is, that the most precious sauce for the purpose of a -cook is impudence. “Boast away,” he says, “and never be tired of it.” -For, as he logically remarks, “if there be many a Captain under whose -dragon-embossed cuirass lies a poor hare, why should not we, who kill -hares, pass for better than we are, like the Captains?” “A modest cook -must be looked on,” he says, “as a contradiction in nature. If he be -hired out to cook a dinner in another man’s house, he will only get -considered in proportion to his impudence and overbearing conduct. If -he be quiet and modest, he will be held as a pitiful cook.” - -Alexis, another artist, takes other and higher ground. He says, that -in all the arts the resulting pleasure does not depend solely on those -who exercise the art; there must be others who possess the science of -enjoyment. This is true; and Alexis further adds, that the guest who -keeps a dinner waiting, or a master who suddenly demands it before its -time, are alike enemies to the art which Alexis professes. - -The earthly paradise of the early cooks was, unquestionably, among the -Sybarites,--the people to whom the crumpling of a rose under the side -on which they lay, gave exquisite pain. They were as self-luxurious -as though the world was made for them alone, and they and the world -were intended to last for ever. They would not admit into their city -any persons whose professions entailed noise in the practice of them: -the trunkmaker at the corner of St. Paul’s would have been flogged to -death with thistle-down, if he had carried on his trade in Sybaris for -an hour, and if a Sybarite could have been found with energy enough to -wield the instrument of execution! The crowing of one of the proscribed -race of cocks once put all the gentlemen of the city into fits; and, on -another occasion, a Sybarite telling a friend how his nerves had been -shaken by hearing the tools of some labouring men in another country -strike against each other, at their work, the friend was so overcome, -that he merely exclaimed, “Good gracious!” and fainted away. - -Athenæus, borrowing, if I remember rightly, from one of the authors -whose works were in that Alexandrian library, the destruction of which -by the Caliph Omar, Dr. Cumming tells us in his “Finger of God,” is a -circumstance at which he is rather glad than sorry,--Athenæus mentions -the visit of a Sybarite to Sparta, where he was invited to one of -the public dinners, at which the citizens ate very black broth, in -common, out of wooden bowls. Having tasted the national diet, he feebly -uttered the Sybaritic expression for “Stap my vitals!” and convulsively -remarked, that “he no longer wondered why the Lacedæmonians sought -death in battle, seeing that such a fate was preferable to life with -such broth!” - -Certainly the public repasts of the Sybarites were of another quality. -The giver of such repasts was enrolled among the benefactors of their -country, and the cook who had distinguished himself was invested with -a golden crown, and an opera ticket; that is, free admission to those -public games where hired dancers voluptuously perverted time and the -human form divine. - -I am afraid that all cooks in remote ages enjoyed but an indifferent -reputation, and thoroughly deserved what they enjoyed. The comic -Dionysius introduces one of the succulent brotherhood, impressing upon -a young apprentice the propriety of stealing in houses where they were -hired to cook dinners. The instruction is worthy of Professor Fagan of -the Saffron-Hill University. “Whatever you can prig,” says the elder -rogue, “belongs to yourself, as long as you are in the house. When you -get past the porter into the street, it then becomes _my_ property. So -fake away! (Βάδιζε δεῦρ’ ἅμα,) and look out for unconnected trifles.” - -And yet Athenæus asserts that nothing has so powerfully contributed -to instil piety into the souls of men, as good cookery! His proof -is, that when men devoured each other, they were beasts,--which is a -self-evident proposition; but that when they took to cooked meats, and -were particular with regard to these, why, then alone they began to -live cleanly,--which is a proposition by no means so self-evident. In -his opinion, a man to be supremely happy only needed the gift of Ceres -to Pandora,--a good appetite, and an irreproachable indigestion. These -are, doubtless, great portions of happiness; and if felicity can do -without them,--which is questionable,--where they are not, comfort is -absent, and a good conscience is hardly a sufficient compensation. - -If Sybaris was the paradise of cooks, Lacedæmon was their purgatory. -They were blamed if men grew fat on their diet, and plump children -were legally condemned to get spare again upon their gruel. The -Romans, again, restored the cook to his proper place in society. He -might be still a slave, and so were greater men than he; but he was -the confidant of his master, and there were not a few who would have -exchanged their liberty for such a post and chains. And who dare affirm -that the _coquus_ was not an officer of distinction? He who knows how -to prepare food for digestion and delight, is a greater man, in one -particular at least, than Achilles, who could go no farther in culinary -science than turning the spit; than Ulysses, who could light fires and -lay cloths with the dexterity of a Frankfort waiter; or than Patroclus, -who could draw wine and drink it, but who knew no more how to make a -stew, than he did how to solve the logarithms of Napier. - -When it is asserted that it was Cadmus, the grandfather of Bacchus, who -first taught men how to eat as civilized beings should, it is thereby -further intimated that good eating should be followed by good drinking. - -We have heard of cooks in monasteries who made dissertations on eternal -flames by the heat of their own fires: so Timachidas, of Rhodes, -made patties and poetry at the same stove, and both after a fashion -to please their several admirers. Artemidorus was the Dr. Johnson of -his own art, and wrote a Kitchen Lexicon for the benefit of students. -Sicily especially was celebrated for its literary cooks, and Mithœcus -wrote a treatise on the art; while Archestratus, the Syracusan, looking -into causes and effects, meditated on stomachs as well as sauces, -and first showed how digestion might be taught to wait on appetite. -Then theoretical laymen came in to the aid of the practical cook, and -gastronomists hit upon all sorts of strange ideas to help them to -renewed enjoyments. Pithyllus, for instance, invented a sheath for the -tongue, in order that he might swallow the hottest viands faster than -other guests, who wisely preferred rather to slowly please the palate -than suddenly satisfy the stomach. It is of Pithyllus the Dainty, that -it is related how, after meals, he used to clean his tongue by rubbing -it with a piece of rough fish-skin; and his taking up hot viands with -his hand, like that of Götz von Berlichingen, encased in a glove, is -cited as proof that the Greeks used no forks. The spoons of the Romans -had a pointed end, at the extremity of the handle, for the purpose of -picking fish from the shell. - -Then came the age when, if men had not appetites of nature’s making, -they were made for them by the cooks; and the latter, in return, were -crowned with flowers by the guests who had eaten largely, and had no -fears of indigestion. The inventor of a new dish had a patent for its -exclusive preparation for a year. But ere that time it had probably -been forgotten in something more novel discovered by a Sicilian -rival; for the Greeks looked on Sicily as the Parisians of the last -century used to look on Languedoc,--as the only place on earth where -cooks were born and bred, and were worth the paying. The artists of -both countries, and of the opposite ages mentioned, were especially -skilled in the preparation of materials which were made to appear the -things they were not; and a seemingly grand dinner of fish, flesh, -and fowl, was really fashioned out of the supplies furnished by the -kitchen-garden. The Greeks, however, never descended to the bad taste -of which the diarists of the last century show the French to have been -guilty; namely, in having wooden joints, carved and painted, placed -upon their tables for show. Artificial flowers may be tolerated, but an -artificial sirloin, made of a block of deal, would be very intolerable -board indeed, particularly to the hungry guests, who saw the seemingly -liberal fare, but who could make very little of the deal before them. - -In Sicily, the goddess of good cheer, Adephagia, had her especial -altars, and thence, perhaps, the estimation in which the Sicilian cooks -were held, who prayed to her for inspiration. Her ministers were paid -salaries as rich as the sauces they invented. Something like £800 _per -annum_ formed the _honorarium_ of the learned and juicy gentleman. But -he was not always to be had, even at that price; and the disgusted -Languedocien who would not remain in the _cuisine_ of the Duke of -Richmond, when Governor of Ireland, for the sufficient reason that -there was no Opera in Dublin, had his prototype among his Sicilian -predecessors. The jealousy of the culinary bondsman in Greek households -against the free cook from Sicily, must have been sometimes deadly in -its results. - -The best-feed cook on record is the happy mortal to whom his master -Antony gave a city, because he had cooked a repast which had called -forth encomium from that dreadful jade, Cleopatra. - -But money was the last thing thought of by the wearied epicures of -Rome, especially when what they gave belonged to somebody else. When -Lucullus spent £1,000 sterling on a snug dinner for three,--himself, -Cæsar, and Pompey,--he doubtless spent his creditors’ money; at least, -extravagant people generally do. Claudius dined often with six hundred -guests, and the Roman people paid the cooks. The dinners of Vitellius -cost that sacrilegious feeder upwards of £3,000 each, but the bills -were discharged by a levy on the public pocket. When Tiberius ordered -several thousands sterling to be bestowed on the author of a piece -wherein every thing eatable was made to speak wittily, the author was -really paid out of the popular pocket; and when Geta insisted on having -as many courses at each repast as there were letters in the alphabet, -and all the viands at each course so named that their initials should -be the same as that of the course itself, he was the last person who -troubled himself about the payment for such extravagance. - -The cooks of such epicures must necessarily, however, have been as -despotic in the kitchen as their lord was in the saloon. The slaves -there, who hurried to and fro, bearing their tributes of good things -from the market-place, or distributing them according to his bidding, -obeyed the cook’s very nod, nay, anticipated his very wishes. They -were, in fact, the ministers of an awful Sovereign. The cook was their -Lord paramount. The stewards possessed no little power; but when the -fires were lighted, and the dinner had to be thought of, the head cook -was the kitchen Jupiter; and when he spoke, obedience, silence, and -trembling followed upon his word. - -From his raised platform, the _Archimagirus_, as he was called, could -overlook all the preparations, and with his tremendous spoon of office -he could break the heads of his least skilful disciples, and taste the -sauces seething in the remotest saucepans. The effect must have been -quite pantomimic; and to complete it, there was only wanted a crash -of discordant music to accompany the rapid descent of the gigantic -spoon upon the skull or ribs of an offender. The work was done in -presence of the gods, and scullions blew the fires under the gaze of -the _Lares_,--sooty divinities to whom, the legend says, inferior cooks -were sometimes sacrificed in the month of December. “But,” as Othello -says, “that’s a fable!” - -Great Roman kitchens were as well worth seeing, and perhaps were as -often inspected by the curious and privileged, as that of the Reform -Club. “Order reigned” there quite as much as it did, according to -Marshal Sebastiani, at Warsaw, amid the most abject slavery. Art and -costliness were lavished upon the vessels, but the human beings there -were exactly the things that were made the least account of. - -No doubt that the triumph of the art of the cook consisted in serving -up an entire pig at once roasted and boiled. The elder Disraeli has -shown from Archestratus how this was done. “The animal had been bled -to death by a wound under the shoulder, whence, after copious effusion, -the master-cook extracted the entrails, washed them with wine, and -hanged the animal by the feet. He crammed down the throat the stuffings -already prepared. Then, covering the half of the pig with a paste of -barley thickened with wine and oil, he put it in a small oven, or on -a heated table of brass, where it was gently roasted with all due -care. When the skin was browned, he boiled the other side, and then, -taking away the barley paste, the pig was served up, at once boiled and -roasted.” And such was the way by which the best of cooks spoiled the -best of pigs. - -According to Plautus, cooks alone were privileged in the old days to -carry knives in their girdles. In the “_Aulularia_,” old Euclio says to -Congrio, the cook, “_Ad tres viros jam ego deferam tuum nomen_,”--“I’ll -go and inform against you to the Magistrates.” “Why so?” asks Congrio. -“Because you carry a knife,”--“_Quia cultrum habes._” “Well,” says the -artist, standing on his rights, “_cocum decet_,” “it is the sign of my -profession.” From another of the many cooks of Plautus we learn, in the -“_Menæchmei_,” that, when a parasite was at table, his appetite was -reckoned as equivalent to that of eight guests; and when Cylindrus is -ordered to prepare a dinner for Menæchmus, his “lady,” and the official -parasite, “Then,” says the cook, “that’s as good as ten; for your -parasite does the work of eight:”-- - - “_Jam isti sunt decem, - Nam parasitus octo hominum munus facile fungitur._” - -The musicians would appear to have lived as pleasantly as the -parasites. Simo remarks to Tranio, in the “_Mostellaria_,” that he -lives on the best the cooks and vintners can procure for him,--a real -fiddler’s destiny:-- - - “_Musice hercle agitis ætatem: ita ut vos decet. - Vino et victu, piscatu probe electili, - Vitam colitis._” - -Stalino complains in the “_Casina_,” that, clever as cooks are, they -cannot put a little essence of love into all their dishes,--a sauce, -he says, that would please everybody. Their reputation in Rome for -stealing was much the same as that enjoyed by their Grecian brethren. -The scene of the “_Casina_,” indeed, is in Athens; but Olympio utters -a Roman sentiment when he says, that cooks use their hands as much -for larceny as cookery, and that wherever they are they bring double -ruin, through extravagance and robbery, upon their masters: “_Ubi sunt, -duplici damno dominos multant._” This is further proved by the speech -of _Epidicus_, in the comedy so called, where that slave-cook speaks of -his master’s purse as if it were game, to disembowel which, he says, he -will use his professional knife:-- - - “_Acutum cultrum habeo, senis qui exenterem - Marsupium._” - -We learn something of the pay of a cook from a speech of one of the -craft, in the “_Pseudolus_.” Ballio, seeing a single practitioner -remaining in the square to be hired, asks how it is that he has not -been engaged. “_Eloquar_,” says the cook, “here is the reason:-- - - “He who, now-a-days, comes here to hire cooks, - No longer seeks the best, that is, the dearest, - But some poor spoil-sauce who for nothing works. - Therefore you see me here alone to-day. - A poor drachma hath my brethren purchased; - But under a crown I cook a dish for no man. - For ’twixt the common herd and me, you see, - There is a diff’rence: they into a dish - Fling whole meadows, and the guests they treat, Sir, - As though they were but oxen out at grass. - Herbs season they with herbs, and grass with grass; - And in the mess, garlic, coriander, fennel, - Sorrel, rochet, beet-root, leeks, and greens, - All go together, with a pound of benzoin, - And mustard ditto, that compels the tears - From out the eyes of those that have to mix it. - - * * * * * - - “If men are short-lived now, the reason’s plain: - They put death into their stomachs, and so - Of indigestion and bad cookery die. - Their sauces but to think of, makes me shudder; - Yet men will eat what asses would not bend to. - - * * * * * - - “Who of _my_ dishes eats, obtains at least - Two hundred happy years of life renew’d. - I season Neptune’s fishes with a juice - Made up of Cicilindrum, Muscadel, - Sipolindrum, and Sancapatides. - The odour of my mutton, nicely stuffed - With Cicimandrum, Nappalopsides, - And of Cataractaria a pinch, - Feeds Jupiter himself, who, when I rest, - Sleeps on Olympus, sad and supperless. - As for my potions, he who deeply drinks, - Gulps with the draught the gift of endless youth.” - -Finally, after inventing the above names unpronounceable of sauces that -do not exist, the boaster adds, that his fee is a crown, provided he is -not overlooked; but that if there be supervision to check him in his -perquisites, he is not to be hired under a mina:-- - - “_Si credis, nummos; si non, ne mina quidem!_” - -I do not know if cooks more especially used different fingers in -mingling their sauces, according as they were employed on wedding -banquets, martial feasts, senatorial entertainments, _al-fresco -déjeuners_, or commercial suppers; but certain it is, that the fingers -were sacred to diverse deities. The thumb was devoted to Venus, the -index finger to Mars, the longest finger to Saturn, the next to the -Sun, and the little finger to Mercury. - -I conclude with a remark that I hope will be gratifying to all -culinary artists who respect themselves and their calling, and who -are anxious to prove that their vocation is of ancient and honourable -descent. Cadmus, who introduced letters into Greece, had formerly -been cook to the King of Sidon. Thus learning ascended to us from -the kitchen; and to the ex-cook of the King of Sidon we perhaps owe -all the epics that have ever been written. By this genealogy, even -“Paradise Lost” may be traced to the patties of Cadmus. But cooks in -England may boast of a _noblesse de cuisine_, which dates from the -Norman Conquest. When William, who wooed his wife Matilda by knocking -her down, had established himself in England, he gave a banquet, at -which his cook, Tezelin, served a new white soup of such exquisite -flavour, that William sent for the artist, and inquired its name. “I -call it _Dillegrout_,” said Tezelin. “A scurvy name for so good a -soup,” said the Conqueror; “but let that pass. We make you Lord of the -Manor of Addington!” Thus modern cooks may boast of a descent from the -landed aristocracy of the Conquest! Some of their masters cannot do as -much; and this, perhaps, accounts for the pride of the one, and the -simplicity of the other. - - - - -THE MODERN COOK, AND HIS SCIENCE. - - -If it were necessary that the cook of the ancient world should be a -Sicilian, and that the _cuisinier_ of the ancient régime should be of -Languedoc, (the native place of “_blanc manger_,”) so in these modern -times he alone is considered a true graduate in the noble science _de -la gueule_ who is a Gaul by birth, or who has gone through his studies -in the University of French Kitchens. In England, it must be confessed -that great cooks have formed the exception rather than the rule; and -that our native culinary literature, however interesting in certain -national details, is chiefly based upon a French foundation. And yet we -may boast of some native professors who were illustrious in their way. -Master John Murrel, for instance, wrote a cookery book in 1630, and -dedicated it to the daughter of the Lord Mayor. He starts by asserting -that cookery books generally mar rather than make good meats; and then -shows what good meats were in his estimation, by teaching how to dress -“minced bullock’s kidney, a rack of veal, a farced leg of mutton, an -umble pie, and a chewit of stockfish.” He is succulently eloquent on a -compound production, consisting of marrow bones, a leg of mutton, fowls -and pullets, and a dozen larks, all in one dish. - -The Duke of Newcastle, in the last century, had a female cook of some -renown, named “Chloe.” General Guise, at the siege of Carthagena, saw -some wild fowl on the wing, and, amid the din of war, he thought of -“Chloe” and her sauces. She was famous for her stewed mushrooms, and -there is an anecdote connected therewith that will bear repeating. -“Poor Dr. Shaw,” writes Horace Walpole, “being sent for in great haste -to Claremont, (it seems the Duchess had caught a violent cold by a hair -of her own whisker getting up her nose, and making her sneeze,) the -poor Doctor, I say, having eaten a few mushrooms before he set out, -was taken so ill that he was forced to stop at Kingston; and, being -carried to the first apothecary’s, prescribed a medicine for himself -which immediately cured him. This catastrophe so alarmed the Duke of -Newcastle, that he immediately ordered all the mushroom-beds to be -destroyed; and even the toadstools in the park did not escape scalping -in this general measure. And a voice of lamentation was heard at Ramah -in Claremont, ‘_Chloe_’ weeping for _her_ mushrooms, and they are not!” -But, let us turn to trace lightly the genealogy of the cooks of modern -times. - -The descent of the barbarians from the north was the ruin of cooks as -well as of Kings, of kitchens as well as constitutions. Many of the -cooks of the classic period were slain like the Druid Priests at the -fire of their own altars. A patriotic few fled rather than feed the -invader; and the servile souls who tremblingly offered to prepare a -_fricassée_ of ostrich brains for the Northmen, were dismissed with -contempt by warrior princes, who lived on under-done beef, and very -much of it! - -But as sure as the Saxon blood beats out the Norman, so does good -cookery prevail over barbarous appetites. The old cooks were a sacred -race, whose heirs took up the mission of their sires. This mission was -so far triumphant, that, at the period of Charlemagne, the imperial -kitchen recognised in its _chef_ the representative of the Emperor. The -oriental pheasant and the peacock, in all the glories of expanded tail, -took the place, or appeared at the side, of coarser viands. The dignity -and the mirth of Charlemagne’s table were heightened by the presence -of ladies. Brillat de Savarin states, that since that period the -presence of the fair sex has ever been a law of society. But in this he -errs; for the Marquis de Bouillé, in his admirable work on the Dukes of -Guise, affirms that the good civilizing custom had fallen into disuse, -but that a permanent improvement was commenced in the reign of Francis -I., when the Cardinal of Lorraine induced that Monarch to invite ladies -to be present at all entertainments given at Court. Society followed -the fashion of the Sovereign; and as it used to be said, “No feast, no -Levite,” so now it was felt that where there was no lady, there was no -refined enjoyment. - -At whatever period the emancipation of the ladies from their forced -seclusion took place, from that period the tone of social life was -elevated. They went about, like Eve, “on hospitable thoughts intent.” -The highest in rank did not disdain to supervise the kitchen; they -displayed their talents in the invention of new dishes, as well as in -the preparation of the old; and they occasionally well-nigh ruined -their lords by the magnificence of their tastes, and their sublime -disregard of expense. All the sumptuary laws of Kings to restrain this -household extravagance were joyously evaded, and banquets became deadly -destructive to men’s estates. - -The French Kings granted corporate rights to the different trades -connected with the kitchen and the table; and perhaps the most valued -privilege was that conceded by Charles IX. to the pastrycooks, who -alone were permitted to make bread for the service of the Mass. - -Montaigne, in his pleasant way, recounts a conversation he had with an -Italian _chef_ who had served in the kitchen of Cardinal Caraffa, up -to the period of the death of his gastronomic Eminence. “I made him,” -says the great Essayist, “tell me something about his post. He gave -me a lecture on the science of eating, with a gravity and magisterial -countenance as if he had been determining some vexed question in -theology. He deciphered to me, as it were, the distinction that exists -between appetites:--the appetite at fasting; that which people have -at the end of the second or third service; the means of awaking and -exciting it; the general ‘police,’ so to speak, of his sauces; and -then particularized their ingredients and effects. The differences of -salads, according to the seasons, he next discoursed upon. He explained -what sorts ought to be prepared warm, and those which should always be -served cold; the way of adorning and embellishing them, in order to -render them seductive to the eye. After this he entered on the order of -table-services,--a subject full of fine and important considerations; -and all this was puffed up with rich and magnificent terms; phrases, -indeed, such as are employed by statesmen and diplomatists, when they -are discoursing on the government of an empire.” We see by this what -the “_art de la gueule_” was in the days of Charles IX., whose mother, -Catherine de Medicis, had introduced it into France, as a science -whereby men should enjoy life. The same lady introduced also poisoning, -as a science whereby men might be deprived of life. Her own career was -full of opposing facts like these,--facts which caused a poetic cook to -write the epitaph upon her, which says:-- - - “Here lieth a Queen, who was angel and devil, - Admirer of good, and a doer of evil; - She supported the State, and the State she destroyed; - She reconciled friends, and she friendships alloyed; - She brought forth three Kings, thrice endanger’d the Crown, - Built palaces up, and threw whole cities down; - Made many good laws, many bad ones as well, - And merited richly both heaven and hell.” - -The mention of Cardinal de Caraffa, by Montaigne, reminds me that, for -a gastronome, the Cardinal was singularly sanguinary in spirit. I know -no one to compare with him, except Dr. Cahill, who is not averse to -good living, and who has earned so gloomy a notoriety by his terrible -sentiment of the massacre of Protestants being “a glorious idea.” -Caraffa was enabled to enjoy both his propensities, of swallowing good -things and slaughtering heretics. “Having obtained leave from the Pope -to establish the Inquisition at Rome, at a time when the resources of -the State ran low, he turned his private property to the use of his -zeal, and set up a small Inquisition at his own expense.” Thus he could -dine within hearing of the groans of his victims; his cook could inform -him that the hares and heretics had both been roasted; and he _may_ -have been occasionally puzzled to know whether that smell of burning -came from the patties or the Protestants. - -The Italian cooks were, for a season, fashionable in France; but they -had a passion for poetry as well as for pies, and were given to let -their sauces burn while they recited whole pages of “Orlando Furioso.” -They were critics as well as cooks, and the kitchens resounded with -their denunciations of all who objected to the merits of the divine -Ariosto. But even the Papal ennobling of a cook could not compensate -for an indifferent dinner; and though Leo X., in a fit of modest -delight at a sauce made by his cook during Lent, named him from -that circumstance “Jack o’ Lent,” or “_Jean de Carême_,” the French -would not allow that such an event authorized the _artiste_ to be -dreaming over epics, when he should be wide awake to the working of -his proper mystery. But the mystery itself was much obstructed by -the political events of the times. There were the bloody wars of the -Guises, the troubles of the League, the despotic reign of Richelieu, -the cacochymical temperament (as the editor of the “_Almanach des -Gourmands_” would call it) of Louis XIII., and the ridiculous war of -the Fronde. The glory of the French kitchen rose with that of the -_Grand Monarque_, and Vatel and Louis XIV. were contemporaries. Vatel -slew himself to save his honour! The King had come to dine with Condé; -but the cod had not arrived in time to be dressed for the King, and -thereupon the heroic artist fell upon his sword, like an ancient Roman, -and is immortalized for ever by his glorious folly! - -But there was nothing really heroic in the death of Vatel, whose sword -was pointed at his breast by wounded vanity. Far more heroic was the -death of the cook of the Austrian Consul, in the late cruel massacre, -by the cowardly Russian fleet, at Sinope. The Consul’s cook was a young -woman of thirty years of age. The Muscovite murderers were at the very -height of their bloody enjoyment, and sending shots into the town, -when the cook attempted to cross a garden, to procure some herbs; for -Consuls _must_ dine, though half the world be dying. She had performed -her mission, and was returning, when a thirty-six pounder shot cut her -completely in two. Rather than give up the parsley for her master’s -soup, she thus encountered death. What was Vatel and his bodkin, to -this more modern cook and the thirty-six pounder, loaded by the Czar -for her destruction? - -The cooks “looked up” in the nights and suppers of the Regency, -and the days and dinners of Louis XV. It would be difficult to say -whether under the Regent, or under the King, the culinary art and its -professors most flourished. I am inclined, however, to think, that, -during the tranquil and voluptuous period of the reign of Louis XV., -the cooks of France rose to that importance from which they have never -descended. They became a recognised and esteemed class in society, -whose spoiled children they were; and, in return, it was very like -spoiled children that they behaved. But how could it be otherwise, -when the noble, the brave, and the fair girded aprons to their loins, -and stood over stew-pans, with the air of alchymists over alembics? It -is to the nobility and other distinguished persons in high life, yet -not noble, in France, that gastronomy owes many a dish, whose very name -betrays to ecstasy. And here are a few of these droll benefactors of -mankind. - -The Marquis de Béchamel immortalized his name, in the reign of Louis -XIV., by his invention of cream-sauce, for turbot and cod. Madame de -Maintenon imagined the “cutlets in curl-papers” which go by her name, -and which her ingenuity created in order to guard the sacred stomach -of the Grand Monarque from the grease which he could not digest. The -“_Chartreuse à la Mauconseil_” is the work, and the most innocent -one, of the free and easy Marchioness of that name. A woman more free -and easy still, the Duchess of Villeroy, (Maréchale de Luxembourg,) -produced, in her hours of reflection, the dish known as the _poulets -à la Villeroy_. They were eaten with bread _à la Régent_, of which -the author was the _roué_ Duke of Orleans. His too “well-beloved” -daughter, the Duchess of Berry, had a gastronomic turn of mind, like -her illustrious father. She was an epicurean lady, who tasted of all -the pleasures of life without moderation, whose device was, “Short -and sweet,” and who was contented to die young, seeing that she had -exhausted all enjoyment, and had achieved a renown, that should embalm -her name for ever, as the inventor of the _filets de lapereau_. The -_gigot à la Mailly_ was the result of much study, on the part of -the first mistress of Louis XV., to rid herself of a sister who was -a rival. Madame de Pompadour, another of the same King’s “ladies,” -testified her gratitude for the present which the Monarch made her -of the Château de Bellevue, by the production of the _filets de -volaille à la Bellevue_. The Queen of Louis was more devout, but -not less epicurean, than his mistresses; and the _petites bouchées à -la Reine_, if they were not of her creating, were named in honour of -Maria Leczinzka. Louis himself had a contempt for female cooks; but -Madame Du Barry had one so well-trained, that with a charming dinner -of _coulis de faisans_, _croustades de la foie de lottes_, _salmis de -bécassine_, _pain de volaille à la suprême_, _poularde au cresson_, -_écrevisses au vin de Sauterne_, _bisquets de pêches au Noyau_, and -_crème de cerneaux_, the King was so overcome with ecstasy, that, after -recovering from the temporary disgust he experienced at hearing that it -was the handywork of a woman, he consented to ennoble her by conferring -upon her the _cordon bleu_,--which phrase, from that time, has been -accepted as signifying a skilled female cook. - -With respect to other dishes and their authors, the _vol au vent -à la Nèsle_ owns a Marquis for its father; and the _poularde à la -Montmorency_ is the offspring of a Duke. The _Bayonnoise_, or the -_Mabonnoise_ rather, recalls one of the victories of the Duke de -Richelieu; and _veau à la Montgolfier_, well inflated, was the tribute -of a culinary artist to the hero who first rode the air at the tail -of a balloon. The _sorbet à la Donizetti_ was the masterpiece of the -Italian confectioner of the late Duke of Beaufort. He had been to -the Opera; and one of the composer’s charming airs having given him -an idea, he brooded over it, till, an hour or so before dawn, it was -hatched into reality, when he rushed to the Duke’s bed-chamber, and, -“drawing Priam’s bed-curtains in the night,” announced to his startled -Grace the achievement of a new _sorbet_. - -The _tendrons d’agneaux au soleil_, and the _filets de poulets à la -Pompadour_, were two of the dishes invented by the famous lady of -that name. The _carbonnade à la Soubise_, and the _carré de veau à -la Guemenée_, date--the first from the reign of Louis XV., the last -from that of Louis XVI.,--periods when the people were famishing. -The Pompadour was a great patron of the arts, and especially of the -culinary art; and the _cuisine des petits appartements_, during _her_ -reign, was at the very height of its savoury reputation. The Prince of -Soubise was a poor General, but a rich glutton; and his son-in-law, the -Prince de Guemenée, was famous for his invention of various _ragoûts_, -his inordinate extravagance, and his bankruptcy, with liabilities -against him amounting to twenty-eight millions of francs. Madame la -Maréchale de Mirepoix was the authoress of _cailles à la Mirepoix_; -and her descendants live on the reputation acquired thereby by their -epicurean ancestress. The Bourbons vied with the aristocracy in taxing -their genius, and cudgelling their brains, in order to produce new -dishes. Thus, the _potage à la Xavier_ was the production of Louis -XVIII., in the days of his early manhood; while the _soupe à la Condé_ -was a rival dish invented by his princely cousin,--a cousin, by the -way, who, when a refugee in England, used to pass his evenings at -Astley’s, with his pockets full of apples, which he gallantly presented -to ladies as highly, but not as naturally, coloured as the fruit. -Perhaps the reputation of the Maréchal de Richelieu rests more on his -_boudins à la carpe_, than on his battles and _billets-doux_. Finally, -a mysterious obscurity conceals from us the name of the inventor of -the _petites bouchées de foie gras_. He is the Junius of gastronomic -literature; but if he be guessed at in vain, he is blessed abundantly, -as one who has concentrated paradise, (an Epicurean’s paradise,) and -given an antepast thereof, in a single mouthful. - -The Prince de Soubise was famous in the reign of Louis XV. for giving -great dinners, and paying nobody but his cooks, and the young ladies of -the opera. He once varied his extravagance by a splendid fête, which -was to terminate by a supper. His _chef_ waited on him with the bill -of fare for the banquet, and the first article which attracted his -attention was “fifty hams.” “Half a hundred hams!” said the Prince, -“that’s a coarse idea, Bertrand. You have not got to feed my regiment -of cavalry.” “Truly, Prince! and only one ham will appear on the table; -I want the remaining forty-nine for adjuncts, seasonings, flavourings, -and a dozen other purposes.” “Bertrand,” replied the Prince, “you are -robbing me, and I cannot allow this article to pass.” “Monseigneur!” -exclaimed the offended _artiste_, “you doubt my morals, and libel my -merit. You do not know what a treasure you possess in me; you have only -to order it, and those fifty hams which so terribly offend you, why, I -will put them all into a phial not bigger than my thumb!” The Prince -smiled, and Bertrand triumphed. - -The cooks of the young King Louis XVI. remarked, with mingled terror -and disgust, that his appetite was rather voracious than delicate. -He cared little what he ate, provided there was enough of it; and he -looked to nutrition rather than niceness. A succulent joint with him -had more merit than the most singular of dishes, the invention of which -had perhaps caused three nights of wakefulness to its author. But the -aristocracy, the law, and finance, maintained tables which ought to -have been the pride of Versailles. Late dinners, or gorgeous suppers, -were indulged in to such a degree by the moneyed classes, that it -was familiarly said, that of an evening the chimneys of the Faubourg -Saint Honoré made fragrant with their incense the entire capital. It -was reckoned that, at this period, twenty thousand men had no other -profession than that of “diner-out,” which they carried on, like the -parasites of old, by retailing anecdotes and news in return for the -repast. It was a time when “Monseigneur” thought nothing of dispatching -his cook to London to procure a turtle; which, after all, was less -extravagant than the process of Cambacères, who had his Périgord -pies sent to him through the post, “On His Majesty’s Service.” The -Languedocien cooks in France were paid the quadruple of the salary of -the family tutor, good eating being so much more essential to life -than mere instruction; and, besides, could the family tutor have -accomplished any thing that could equal the achievement of the family -cook who could bring to table _entire_ a “_sanglier à la crapaudine_?” -The cooks of the age of Louis XVI. invented the “_bouillie_” and the -“_consommé_,” because mastication was considered by them a vulgar -process; and the royal cooks, during Passion Week, manipulated the -vegetables placed before the King into the forms of ocean-dwelling -fish, and gave to the semblance the taste of the reality for which it -passed to the eye. - -The glory of gastronomy was again rising when it was suddenly quenched -by the revolutionary torrent, and the nation was put on a three years’ -meagre dietary by the Jacobins and the Directory. But the Revolution, -which affected to hate cooks as aristocratic appendages that ought to -be suppressed, sometimes made, where it hoped to mar. The case of Ude -is one in point. - -Monsieur Ude, like Prince Eugene, was originally intended for the -Church. At the breaking out of the French Revolution, he was residing, -for instruction, with an Abbé, and master and pupil had to fly before -the popular indignation, which, for a time, assailed the Church, and -all therewith connected. Ude’s life was in peril in the public streets, -and he just saved it, by rushing into the shop of a pastrycook, where -he found a permanent asylum. The “house of Ude,” like other great -houses, nearly perished in the great political shipwreck of the day, -and this particular scion thereof took to the study of practical -gastronomy, and became chief supreme in various great kitchens, from -that of royalty down to that of Crockford. - -When the sluices of the French Revolution were opened, how diverse were -the fortunes of those who fled from before it! It was the same with -the gentlemen who had followed the fortunes of Napoleon. They were -scattered, like the Generals of Alexander, without being able, like -them, to retire upon independent sovereignties, and rear dynasties of -barbaric splendour. Some went to Greece to crush despotism, some went -to Lahore to aid it. A few, like Latour d’Auvergne, took to the Church; -but, saving that portly person himself, none had the good luck to reach -the archiepiscopate. Those who failed to procure employment in foreign -armies, and yet could not lay aside their propensity for killing, went -to the East, and prescribed as Physicians. Such of the rest as were -absolutely fit for nothing, and willing to do it, inundated England, -and undertook the light and irresponsible office of Private Tutors! - -But it was the earlier Revolution that afforded examples of the -greatest contrasts. Many young men, intended for the Church, changed -their profession, and became popular, useful, and rich, in the -households of European royalty, as civilizers of the kitchen, who -raised cookery from its barbarous condition to a matter of science -and taste. Perhaps the most curious of the waifs and strays of the -Revolution flung upon our shores, was the Chevalier D’Aubigné, who -contrived to live, as so many French gentlemen of that time did, in -bitter poverty, without a sacrifice of dignity. He had one day been -invited by an English friend to dine with the latter at a tavern. -In the course of the repast, he took upon himself to mix the salad; -and the way in which he did this, attracted the notice of all the -other guests in the room. Previous to the period of which I am -speaking, lettuces were commonly eaten, by tavern frequenters at -least, _au naturel_, with no more dressing than Nebuchadnezzar had -to his grass when he dieted daily among the beasts. Consequently, -when D’Aubigné handled the preparation for which he had asked, like -a chymist concocting elixir in his laboratory, the guests were lost -in admiration; for the refreshing aroma of a _Mayonnaise_ was warrant -to their senses, that the French Knight had discovered for them a -new pleasure. One of them approached the foreign magician, and said, -“Sir, it is universally known that your nation excels all others in -the making a salad. Would it be too great a liberty to ask you to do -us the favour to mix one for the party at my table?” The courteous -Frenchman smiled, was flattered, performed the office asked of him, -and put four gentlemen in a state of uncontrollable ecstasy. He had -talked cheerfully, as he mixed gracefully and scientifically, and, in -the few minutes required by him to complete his work of enchantment, -he contrived to explain his position as emigrant, and his dependence -on the pecuniary aid afforded by the English Government. The guests -did not let the poor Chevalier depart without slipping into his hand -a golden fee, which he received with as little embarrassment, and as -much dignity, as though he had been the Physician De Portal taking an -_honorarium_ from the hands of the Cardinal de Rohan. - -He had communicated his address, and he, perhaps, was not very much -surprised when, a few days after, he received a letter in which he -was politely requested to repair to a house in Grosvenor Square, for -the purpose of mixing a salad for a dinner party there to be given. -D’Aubigné obeyed the summons; and, after performing his mission, -returned home richer by a five-pound note than when he went out. - -Henceforth he became the recognised “fashionable salad-maker;” and -ladies “died” for his salads, as they do now for Constantine’s -simulative bouquets. The preparer was soon enabled to proceed to his -responsible duties in a carriage; and a servant attended him, carrying -a mahogany case, containing the necessary ingredients for concocting -various salads, according to the respective tastes of his employers. -At a later period, he sold, by hundreds, similar mahogany cases, which -he had caused to be made, and which were furnished with all matters -necessary for the making an irreproachable salad, and with directions -how to administer them. The Chevalier, too, was, like old Carré,--whose -will was so cleverly made by the very disinterested friends who had -never before spoken to him,--a prudent and a saving man; and by the -period which re-opened France to the _émigrés_, he had realized some -eighty thousand francs, upon which he enjoyed a dignified retirement in -a provincial town. He invested sixty thousand francs in the Funds; with -the other twenty thousand he purchased a little estate in the Limousin, -and, if he lacked a “legend” to his device, I would have helped him to -one in “_Sal adfert_.” - -A Knight over a salad-bowl is not a chivalrous picture; but the stern -necessity of the case gave it dignity, and the resulting profits -quieted the scruples of the gentleman. When Booth pounced upon Captain -Bath, sitting in a dirty flannel gown, and warming his sister’s posset -at the fire, the noble and gaunt Captain was taken something aback, and -said, in a little confusion, “I did not expect, Sir, to be seen by you -in this situation.” Booth told him “he thought it impossible he could -appear in a situation more becoming his character.” The compliment -was equivocal; but the Captain said, “You do not? By G-- I am very -much obliged to you for that opinion; but I believe, Sir, however my -weakness may prevail on me to descend from it, no man can be more -conscious of his own dignity than myself.” The apology of good Captain -Bath in Fielding’s “Amelia,” would have served the Chevalier who made -salads, had he needed one. - -If a salad made the fortune of a Chevalier, it on one occasion made -that of a female cook, with whose dexterity in this respect a learned -English Judge was so enchanted, that he raised the lucky maiden to -the quality of wife. If we discuss the traits of life at table, we -have nothing to do with the secrets of household; but an incident, -illustrative of the consequences of this match, may be mentioned. The -Judge ever after was famous for protracting the sittings in court -beyond all precedent and patience; and when weary Barristers were -aghast at hearing a new cause called on, when the night was half spent, -and fairly remonstrated against the judicial cruelty, the learned -husband of his cook would remark with a sigh, “Gentlemen, we _must_ be -somewhere; we cannot be better any where than where we now are,”--the -half of which assertion was stoutly denied by his hearers. - -Our aristocracy are not quite so famous for their invention of dishes -as that of France; but their love for good dinners, and their knowledge -of what they ought to be, are not inferior to the affection and science -of our neighbours. When Lord Marcus Hill officiated as whipper-in -to the Whig Government, it was part of his office to order the fish -dinner at which Ministers regale themselves when sessional cares no -longer molest them. The fish dinners of Lord Marcus are remembered with -satisfaction and gratitude; for they were first-rate in their way. The -reputation of the Carlton _cuisine_ and cellar is said to be chiefly -owing to Sir Alexander Grant, of whom a gastronomic critic says, “No -living Amphitryon has given better dinners in his time; and few can -boast of having entertained more distinguished guests.” His name, as a -patron, reminds me of that of Carême, as a practitioner. - - - - -PEN AND INK SKETCH OF CARÈME. - - -It would be as easy to compile a Dictionary of Cooks, as of Musicians -or Painters; but it would not be so amusing or so edifying, except -perhaps to those who think more of their stomach than of their mind. -But it _would_ then be attractive and useful to the majority of -readers; for the sages themselves are not unmindful of their stomachs, -and, according to a sage, they would be unworthy of the name if they -neglected that vital matter. Johnson, you know, lived in an age when -things were called by their real names. “_J’appelle un chat un chat_,” -was the device of the plain-spoken, when not only men, but ladies, bold -as the Thalestris of Young’s pungent satire, loudly dared to name what -nature dared to give. Dr. Johnson, then, says, “Some people have a -foolish way of not minding, or pretending not to mind, what they eat. -For my part, I mind my _belly_ very studiously; for I look upon it that -he who does not mind his _belly_, will hardly mind any thing else!” - -To the world, then, even a Biographical Dictionary of Cooks might be -captivating; but as my present mission is not to write an Encyclopædia, -but rather deferentially to offer my little sketches to gentle, and not -too critical, readers, with leisure half-hours at their command, so do -I offer them a sketch of Carême, as the knowledge of the individual may -stand for that of the class. - -He was illustrious by descent; for one of his ancestors had served in -the household of a Pope, who himself made more sauces than saints, Leo -X. But Carême was one of so poor and so numerous a family, that when -he came into the world, he was no more welcome than Oliver Goldsmith -was: the respective parents of the little-cared-for babes did not know -what future great men lay in naked helplessness before them. One wrote -immortal poetry, and starved: the other made delicious pastry, and -rode in a chariot! We know how much Oliver received for his “Vicar;” -while Anthony Carême used to receive twice as much for merely writing -out a recipe to make a “_pâté_.” Nay, Carême’s untouched patties, -when they left royal tables, were bought up at a cost which would -have supported Goldsmith for a month; and a cold sugared _entremets_, -at the making of which Carême had presided, readily fetched a higher -price than the public now pay for the “Complete Works” of the poet of -Green-Arbour-court! - -Carême studied under various great masters, but he perfected his -studies under Boucher, _chef des services_ of the Prince Talleyrand. -The glory of Carême was co-eval with that of Napoleon: those two -individuals were great men at the same period; but the glory of one -will, perhaps, be a little more enduring than that of the other. I will -not say _whose_ glory will thus last the longer; for as was remarked -courteously by the Oxford candidate for honours, who was more courteous -than “crammed,” and who was asked which were the minor Prophets, “I am -not willing to draw invidious distinctions!” - -In the days of the Empire,--the era of the greatness, of the -achievements, and of the reflections of Carême,--the possession of him -was as eagerly contested by the rich as that of a nymph by the satyrs. -He was alternately the glory of Talleyrand, the boast of Lavalette, -and the pride of the Saxon Ambassador. In their houses, too, his -hand was as often on his pen as on the handle of his _casserole_; -and inspiration never visited his brain without the call being -duly registered in his note-book, with reflections thereon highly -philosophical and gastronomic. - -But Carême was capricious. It was not that he was unfaithful, but he -was _volage_; and he passed from kitchen to kitchen, as the bee wings -from flower to flower. The Emperor Alexander dined with Talleyrand, -and forthwith he seduced Carême: the seduction-money was only £100 -sterling per month, and the culinary expenses. Carême did not yield -without much coyness. He urged his love for study, his desire to refine -the race of which he made himself the model, his love for his country; -and he even accompanied, for a brief moment, “Lord Stewart” to Vienna; -but it was more in the way of policy than pastry: for Count Orloff was -sent after him on a mission, and Carême, after flying, with the full -intention of being followed, to London and Paris, yielded to the golden -solicitation, and did the Emperor Alexander the honour of becoming the -head of the imperial kitchen in whatever palace His Majesty presided. -But the delicate susceptibility of Carême was wounded by discovering -that his book of expenses was subjected to supervision. He flung up -his appointment in disgust, and hastened across Europe to England. -The jealous winds wished to detain him for France, and they blew him -back on the coast between Calais and Boulogne, exactly as they did -another gentleman, who may not be so widely known as Carême, but who -has been heard of in England under the name of William Wordsworth. -Carême accepted the omen, repaired to Paris, entered the service of -the Princess Bagration, and served the table of that capricious lady, -_en maître d’hôtel_. As the guests uttered ecstatic praises of the -fare, the Princess would smile upon him as he stood before her, and -exclaim, “He is the pearl of cooks!” Is it a matter of surprise that -he was vain? Fancy being called a “pearl” by a Princess! On reading it -we think of the days when Lady Mary Wortley Montague put nasty footmen -into eclogues, and deified the dirty passions of Mrs. Mahony’s lacquey. - -The Princess, however, ate herself into a permanent indigestion, and -Carême transferred his services to the English Ambassador at the Court -of Vienna. There, every morning, seated in his magnificent kitchen, -Carême received the visit of “Milor Stewart,” who seldom left him -without presents and encouragements. Indeed, these rained upon the -immortal artist. The Emperor Alexander had consented to have Carême’s -projects in culinary architecture dedicated to him, and, with notice of -consent, sent him a diamond ring. When Prince Walkouski placed it on -his finger, the cook forgot his dignity, and burst into tears. So did -all the other cooks in the Austrian capital,--out of sheer jealousy. - -Carême, two years before George IV. was King, had been for a short -period a member of the Regent’s household. He left Vienna to be present -at the Coronation; but he arrived too late; and he does not scruple to -say, very ungenerously, that the banquet was spoiled for want of his -presence, nor to insinuate that the colleagues with whom he would have -been associated were unworthy of such association,--an insinuation -at once base and baseless. After being the object of a species of -semi-worship, and yielding to every new offer, yet affecting to despise -them all, Carême ultimately tabernacled with Baron Rothschild in Paris; -and the super-human excellency of his dinners, is it not written in the -“Book without a Name” of Lady Morgan? And was not his residence there -the object of envy, and cause of much melancholy, and opportunity for -much eulogy, on the part of George IV.? Well, Anthony Carême would have -us believe as much with respect to himself and the King; but we do -not believe a word of it; for the royal table was never better cared -for by the royal officers, whose duty lay in such care, than at this -very period. George IV. is said to have tempted him by offering triple -salaries; but all in vain; for London was too _triste_ an abiding -place for a man whose whole soul, out of kitchen hours, was given to -study. And so Carême remained with his Jewish patron until infirmity -overtook his noble nature, and he retired to dictate his immortal works -(like Milton, very!) to his accomplished daughter. _Les beaux restes_ -of Carême were eagerly sought after; but he would not heed what was -no longer a temptation; for he was realizing twenty thousand francs a -year from the booksellers, besides the interest of the money he had -saved. Think of it, shade of Milton! Eight hundred pounds sterling -_yearly_, for writing on kitchen-stuff! Who would compose epics -after that? But Carême’s books were epics after their sort, and they -are highly creditable to the scribe who wrote them from his notes. -Finally, even Antony Carême died, like cooks of less degree; but he -had been the imperial despot of European kitchens, had been “beringed” -by Monarchs, and been smiled on by Princesses; he had received Lords -in his kitchen, and had encountered ladies who gave him a great deal -for a very little knowledge in return; and finally, as Fulke Greville -had inscribed on his tomb that he had been the friend of Sir Philip -Sidney, so the crowning joy of Carême’s life might have been chiselled -on his monument, indicating that he had been the friend of one whom -he would have accounted a greater man than the knightly hero in -question,--namely, _il Maestro Rossini_! Carême’s cup was thereat full; -and he died, perfectly convinced that paradise itself would be glad at -his coming. - -The celebrated Damvers was _chef_ to the as celebrated financier -Grimaud de la Reynière, in the last century. Grimaud died a martyr to -his epicurean tastes. He was dining on a _pâté de foies gras_, when he -allowed his appetite to overpower his digestion, and he died of the -excess. Barthe, the author of “_Les Fausses Infidélités_,” also fell on -the field of the dining-room. He was extremely short-sighted, and ate -of every thing on the table. He did not consult his appetite, but his -servant, asking him, “Have I eaten of that?” “Have I had any of this?” -It was after partaking too freely, both of “this” _and_ “that,” that -poor M. Barthe let his temper get the better of him in an argument, and -a stroke of apoplexy sent him under the table. His cook deplored in him -the loss of a man of taste. - -The cook of the Count de Tessé, Master of the Horse to Marie -Antoinette, was famous for dressing artichokes. The great Morillian -surpassed him, however; but this feat did not save the artist from -ending his days in poverty. The elder Robert was, perhaps, equal to -either of them, in this or in any other respect connected with his -art. The great Carême, ignorant of every thing else, was at least an -accomplished cook. There is, as I have said, a tradition that his -_petits pâtés_, when they left the Regent’s table, were sold, like -the second-hand pies from the royal table at Versailles, for fabulous -prices. As I have before intimated, it was for Leo X. that Carême the -First invented those succulent, but orthodox, dishes, which pleased -the pontifical palate at a season when gratification by gravy would -have been scandalous! It was in the Baron Rothschild’s household that -Carême the Second invented his famous _sauce piquante_, the result of -his studies under Richaut, Asne, and the elder Robert. It was in and -for France that Carême published the learned and curious work of which -he is the reputed author, and which he may have dictated, but which -he could not have written. It is marked by philosophical inquiry, -instruction, and pleasant trifling; and neither book nor reputed author -has been excelled by any artist, or any sample of kitchen literature, -that has appeared since that period. - -Before the age of Carême, the popular kitchen in France was not very -superior to our own; and the patrons of _tavernes_ and _traiteurs_ were -as coarsely fed as our frequenters of ordinaries. But as royalty fell, -the _restaurateurs_ rose; and when, in 1786, the cooks of Louis XVI. -began to augur badly of their prospects, three provincial brothers, -Barthélemy, Mannielles, and Simon, opened their famous _restaurant_, -“_Les Trois Frères Provençaux_,” in the Palais Royal, and constituted -themselves the cooks of another King,--the sovereign people. The new -establishment created an era in the history of cookery, and men of -all shades of politics, and Generals of all grades of reputation, -resorted to the tables of the Brothers. General Bonaparte and Barras -were to be seen there daily, before they took their cheap pleasure at -the theatre of Mlle. Montansier. During the wars of the Empire it was -the chosen stage for the farewell banquets of brethren in arms, and at -this period the receipts amounted to not less than £500 sterling daily. -The triumvirate of proprietors endured longer than any such union in -the political world; and it was not till the reign of Louis Philippe -that the establishment of “_Les Trois Frères_” descended, under a new -proprietary, into a more unpretending position than that which it -had proudly sustained during half a century. The _casseroles_ of the -savoury Brothers had remained unshaken, while Kings and constitutions -had fallen around them. - -The fortune of the Provincial Brothers tempted another country cook -from his obscurity; and some four years after the former had set up -their tables in the Palais Royal, the immortal Véry thrust his feet -into wooden clogs, and trudged from a village on the Meuse up to the -capital, to give it a taste of his quality. He enchanted Marshal Duroc -with some of his _plats_, and henceforth his fortune was secure. -He married a beautiful woman, whose pen kept his books, whose face -attracted customers, and whose heart was devoted to her husband. A -quarter of a century sufficed to enable Véry to die immensely rich, -after working excessively hard, and to be magnificently entombed in the -_Cimetière Montmartre_, under a marble column, which bore the engraved -assurance that “his whole life was devoted to the useful arts.” - -Beauvilliers appeared in Paris about the same time as “the Three -Brothers;” he made and unmade his fortune three or four times, and died -poor, three years after Véry died so rich. Beauvilliers was the author -of “_L’Art du Cuisinier_,” a book almost as interesting as “The Art of -Dining;” and one cannot name either without standing mentally _chapeau -bas!_ before the author. - -Beauvilliers was famous for his splendid wines and heavy bill. The -_Veau qui tette_ was renowned for its sheep-trotters. The reputation of -others was built upon kidneys; that of Véry, on his _entrées truffées_. -The “Three Provincial Brothers” enjoyed a wide esteem for the way in -which they dressed cod with garlic. Baleine kept a house that was -crowded by the admirers of fish; while that of Robert was distinguished -for the graceful attention with which previously ordered dinners were -served; and that of Henneveu for the splendid _boudoirs_ in which -shy couples, too modest to encounter the public gaze, could dine in -private, and cease to find their modesty oppressive. Beauvilliers’, -as I have intimated, was a costly house; but it was not _therefore_ -the most excellent in Paris. The excellence of a dinner is not to be -determined by its price. Four years ago an illustrious party dined at -Philippe’s, in the Rue Montorgueil, at a far lower cost, and after a -far more exquisite fashion, than if they had joined the Epicureans of -the Clarendon, at £5 per head. The party consisted of Lords Brougham -and Dufferin, the Honourable W. Stuart, two other “Britishers,” and -Count D’Orsay and M. Alexandre Dumas. The dinner on this occasion was -a _recherchée_ affair. It had been as anxiously meditated upon as an -epic poem; and it was a far pleasanter thing. “The most successful -dishes,” says the author of “The Art of Dining,” “were the _bisques_, -the _fritures à l’Italienne_, and the _gigot à la Bretanne_. Out of -compliment to the world-wide fame of Lord Brougham and Alexandre Dumas, -M. Philippe produced some _Clos de Vougeot_, which, (like his namesake -in ‘High Life Below Stairs,’) he vowed, should never go down the throat -of a man whom he did not esteem and admire; and it was voted first-rate -by acclamation.” - -The French repasts are not always good, even when they are rather -costly. In 1807, a party of twenty-two sat down to a repast at the -younger “Robert’s,” in Paris. The Amphitryon of the feast was M. -Daolouis; and the bill, exclusive of wine, amounted to thirty louis. -There were but three or four great dishes, and two or three sauces. -The discontent of the guests was general, and the giver of the feast -allowed that the dinner was not near so good as that of the “_Société -des Mercredis_,” at _Le Gacque’s_, which cost only seven francs per -head, ordinary wine, liqueurs, and coffee included. “_Mais, à dîner, -Messieurs, à dîner!_” - - - - -DINNER TRAITS. - - -“For these and all His mercies”----once began Dr. Johnson, whose good -custom it was always to thank Heaven for the good things set before -him; but he almost as invariably found fault with the food given. And -of this see-saw process Mrs. Johnson grew tired; and on the occasion -alluded to, she stopped her husband by remarking that it was a farce -to pretend to be grateful for dishes which, in two minutes, he -would pronounce to be as worthless as the worst of Jeremiah’s figs! -And so there was no blessing. Mrs. Johnson might have supplied the -one employed by merry old Lady Hobart at a dinner where she looked -inquiringly, but vainly, for a grace-sayer. “Well,” remarked the good -ancient dame, “I think I must say as one did in the like case, ‘God -be thanked!--nobody will say grace!’” It is seldom that “grace” is -properly said or sung. The last is a terribly melodious mockery at -public dinners; but then every man should silently and fervently make -thanksgiving in his own heart. He is an ungracious knave who sits down -to a meal without at least a silent acknowledgment of gratitude to Him, -without whom there could have been no spreading of the banquet. Such a -defaulter deserves to be the bound slave of dyspepsia, until he learn -better manners. “Come, gentlemen,” Beau Nash used to say, “eat, and -welcome!” It was all his grace; and had he said, “Come, gentlemen, -be thankful and eat,” it would have been more like the Christian -gentleman, and less like the “beau.” - -It was a good old rule that prescribed as a law of numbers at the -dinner-table, that the company should not be more than the Muses nor -less than the Graces. There was not always unlimited freedom of action -in the matter; for, by the _Lex Faunia_, a man was forbidden to invite -more than three strangers (not of his family) to dinner, except on -market days, (three times a month,) when he might invite five. The host -was restricted to spending only two and a half _drachmas_; but he might -consume annually one hundred and twenty Roman pounds of meat for each -person in his house, and eat at discretion of all plants and herbs that -grew wild; and, indeed, little restriction was put upon vegetables at -all. One consequence was, that this law against luxury begot a great -deal of it, and ruined men’s stomachs in consequence. When the French -Mayor ordered all good citizens in his dark district to carry lanterns -at night, he forgot to say a word about candles, and the wits walked -about with the lanterns unfurnished. The official rectified the mistake -by ordering the candles; but as he omitted to say that these were to be -lighted, the public did not profit by the decree. So the _Lex Faunia_, -when it allowed unrestrained liberty in thistles, forgot to limit -sauces; and vegetables generally were eaten with such luscious aids to -which the name of “sauce” was given, that even the grave Cicero yielded -to the temptation, spoiled his digestion, and got a liver complaint! -After all, it is said that only three Romans could be found who -rigorously observed the _Faunia_ Law, according to their oaths. These -were men more easily satisfied than Apicius, who cried like a child, -when, of all his vast fortune, he had only about £250,000 sterling that -he could devote to gluttony; or than Lucullus, who never supped in the -“Apollo” without its costing him at least ten thousand pounds. - -Notwithstanding this, the _Faunia_ Law was an absurd impertinence. It -was like the folly of Antigonus, who one day, seeing the poet Antagoras -in the camp, cooking a dish of congers for his dinner, asked, “O -Antagoras, dost thou think that Homer sang the deeds of heroes while he -boiled fish?” “And you, O King,” returned the poet, “thinkest thou that -Agamemnon gained renown for his exploits, by trying to find out who had -boiled fish for dinner in his camp?” The moral is, that it is best to -leave men at liberty to eat as they like. Society is strong enough to -make laws on these matters for itself; and no one now could commit the -crime of the greedy Demylos, who, to secure a superb dish of fish for -himself, ἐνέπτυσεν εἰς αὐτήν, “spat in it;” and if my readers refer to -the chapter illustrating “Their Majesties at Meat,” they will find that -so dirty a trick was not the reserved privilege of Heathenism. - -The Pythagoreans were clean eaters, and dined daily on bread and honey. -On the smell of the latter Democritus did not indeed dine, but died. -He had determined to commit suicide, and had cut down his allowance -to such small rations, that his death was expected daily. But the fun -and the festival of Ceres was at hand; and the ladies of his house -begged him to be good enough not to spoil the frolic by dying at such -a mirthful moment. He consented, asked for a pot of honey, and kept -himself alive by smelling at it, till the festival was over, when his -family hoped that he would die whenever he found it convenient. He -took one sniff more at the pot, and in the effort his breath passed -away for ever. There was nothing reprehensible in the conduct of those -ladies. They did not outrage the spirit of their times. I think worse -of Madam du Deffand, who went out to dine on the day her old lover -died, remarking, as she entered the room, how lucky it was that he had -expired before six o’clock, as otherwise she would have been too late -for the gay party expecting her. The brilliant society who played cards -by the side of the bed of the dying Mlle. de l’Espinasse, and counted -their tricks while they commented upon her “rattles,” may be pronounced -as being twice as Pagan as the ladies of the household of Democritus. - -A small portion of soup is a good preparative to excite the digestive -powers generally for what is to follow. Oysters form a far less -commonly safe introduction to the more solid repast, their chill, which -even Chablis cannot always rectify, paralysing rather than arousing the -stomach. The French _bouilli_ after soup is a dangerous vulgarity; for -it is simply, as a distinguished professor has styled it, “meat, all -but its nourishing juice.” - -“Poultry,” says M. Brillat, “is to the sick man who has been floating -over an uncertain and uneasy sea, like the first odour or sight of land -to the storm-beaten mariner.” But a skilful cook can render almost any -dish attractive to any and every quality of appetite. In this respect, -the French and Chinese cooks are really professional brethren; much -more so than a general practitioner and a veterinary surgeon! - -The Chinese are exceedingly skilful cooks, and exhibit taste and -judgment in the selection of their food. With a few beans, and the meal -of rice and corn, they will make a palatable and nutritious dish. They -eat horse-flesh, rats, mice, and young dogs. Why not? All these are -far cleaner feeders than pigs and lobsters. A thorough-bred horse is -so nice in his appetite, that he will refuse the corn which has been -breathed upon by another horse. The Tonquin birds’ nests eaten in China -may be described as young Mr. Fudge describes the Paris _grisettes_: -“Rather eatable things, those _grisettes_, by the bye!” So are the -birds’ nests, composed as they are of small shell-fish and a glutinous -matter, supplied by the plumed inhabitant of the edible houses. Bears’ -paws, rolled in pepper and nutmeg, dried in the sun, and subsequently -soaked in rice-water, and boiled in the gravy of a kid, form a dish -that would make ecstatic the grave Confucius himself. - -There are some men for whom cooks toil in vain. The Duke of -Wellington’s cook had serious doubts as to his master being a great -man,--he so loved simple fare. Suwarrow was another General who was the -despair of cooks. His biographer says of him, that he was at dinner -when Col. Hamilton appeared before him to announce an Austrian victory -over the French. The General had one huge plate before him, a sort of -Irish stew, with every thing for sauce, from which he ate greedily, -spitting out the bones, “as was his custom.” He was so delighted with -the message and the messenger, that he received him as Galba did -Icelus, the announcer of Nero’s death: with his unwiped mouth, he began -kissing the latter, (as the half-shaven Duke of Newcastle once did the -bearer of some welcome intelligence,) and insisted on his sitting down -and eating from the General’s plate, “without ceremony.” The great -Coligny was, like Suwarrow, a rapid eater; but he was more nice in his -diet. The characteristic of Coligny was, that he always used to eat his -tooth-picks! - -According to ancient rule, an invitation not replied to within -four-and-twenty hours was deemed accepted; and from an invitation given -and accepted, nothing releases the contracting parties but illness, -imprisonment, or death! Nothing suffers so much by delay as dinner; -and if punctuality be the politeness of Kings, it should also be the -policy both of guests and cooks. Lack of punctuality on the part of -the former has been illustrated in the cases of men, of whom it is said -that they never saw soup and fish but at their own tables. The late -Lord Dudley Ward used to cite two brothers as startling examples of -want of punctuality: “If you asked Robert for Wednesday, at seven, you -got Charles on Thursday, at eight!” On the other hand, an unpunctual -cook is scarcely to be accounted a cook; and an unpunctual master -is not worthy of a cook whose dinner is ready to be served at the -moment it has been ordered. The great “_artiste_” who dismissed his -patron because he never sat down to dinner until after he had kept it -waiting for an hour, was thoroughly acquainted with the dignity of his -profession. - -At the beginning of the present century, it was the custom in France to -serve the soup immediately before the company entered the dining-room. -The resulting advantage was a simultaneous operation on the part of -the guests. The innovation was introduced by Mlle. Emilie Contat, the -actress; but it was tolerated only for a season. It was, at the same -period, of rigorous necessity, when eggs were eaten at dinner, to crush -the empty shell. To allow the latter to leave the table whole was a -breach in good manners; but the reason of this prandial law I have -never been able to discover. Mlle. Contat was almost as famous for her -love of good cheer as our own Foote, and both were, equally often, “on -hospitable thoughts intent.” - -It would appear that in Foote’s time Scotland was not famous for a -lavish hospitality. The old actor gave some glorious dinners to the -first people in the city, and his preliminary proceedings thereto -were intended to be highly satirical upon what he considered Scottish -parsimony. Every night, before retiring to bed, he used to paper the -curls of his wig with Scotch bank-notes,--promissory paper, as he -said, of no value. When his cook waited on him at breakfast-time for -orders, “Sam” gravely uncurled his locks, flung the papers to the -attendant, as purchase-money for the necessary provisions, and sent -her to market in a sedan-chair. But the old actor was as eccentric and -ostentatious at his own table in London, as he was any where. When the -wines were placed on the board, he solemnly, and as it were with a -shade of disgust, inquired, “If any body drank port?” As no one dared -to answer in the affirmative at his table, (though the owner took it -“medicinally,”) he would direct the servant to “take away the ink!” - -If Foote disliked port, Bentley, on the other hand, had a contempt for -claret, “which,” said he, “would be port, if it could!” The latter -individual was not like Flood, the Irishman, who used to raise his -glass of claret aloft, with a cry, “If this be war, may we never have -peace!” - -Comparatively speaking, claret is a very modern wine. Indeed, none -of the Bourdeaux wines were fashionable, that is, consumed in large -quantities out of the province, before the reign of Louis XV. That -Sovereign is said to have asked Richelieu if Bourdeaux wines were -“drinkable.” “From father to son the Bourbon race,” says Bungener, in -his incomparable work, “_Trois Sermons sous Louis XIV._,” ate and drank -with relish; and it was no jest that among the three talents attributed -by the old song to Henri IV., (their ancestor,) was numbered that of -a “good drinker.” “None of them, however, with the exception of the -Regent, carried it to excess; but what was not excess for them, would -have been so for many others. Louis XIV., at the summit of his glory, -and Louis XVI., surrounded by his jailers, submitted equally to the -laws of their imperious appetite.” - -When Louis XV. asked Richelieu if Bourdeaux wines were drinkable, -the Duke answered him in terms which I may cite, because of their -correctness. “Sire,” he replied, “they have, what they call, ‘white -Sauterne,’ which, though far from being so good as that of Monrachet, -or that of the little slopes in Burgundy, is still not to be despised. -There is also a certain wine from Grave, which smacks of the flint, -like an old carbine. It resembles Moselle wine, but keeps better. They -have besides, in Medoc and Bazadois, two or three sorts of red wine, -of which they boast a great deal. It is nectar fit for the gods, if -one is to believe them. Yet it is certainly not comparable to the wine -of Upper Burgundy. Its flavour is not bad, however, and it has an -indescribable sort of dull, saturnine acid, which is not disagreeable. -Besides, one can drink as much as one will. It puts people to sleep, -and that is all!” “It puts people to sleep,” said the King: “send for a -pipe of it!” This is as just a description of good, healthy Bourdeaux, -as was that given by Sheridan, I believe, of Champagne: “It does not -enter,” he said, “and steal your reason; it simply makes a runaway -knock at a man’s head, and there’s an end of it!” - -But we are indulging in too much wine at dinner. Let us return to the -solids. Of the self-important personages who daily cross our path, -perhaps the most important circumstance of their life is, that they -have dined every day of it. But it is a necessity. All men must, or -should; and sorrow of the saddest sort is subdued before the anguish of -appetite. As Jules Janin says, in his “_Gaietés Champêtres_,” “Nemorin -takes leave of Estelle, and returns home, overcome by hunger. Don Kyrie -Eleison de Montauban, after running, all day long, after Mademoiselle -Blaisir de-ma-vie, goes and knocks at the door of the neighbouring -_château_, and asks to be invited to supper. Niobe herself, in the -‘Iliad,’ as afflicted as woman can be, does not forget, when night -comes, to take a little refreshment.” If Seneca derided such doings, it -was only after dinner, when appetite failed him. Human nature is made -up of sentiment and hunger; and Hood’s sentimentalist was not unnatural -with his epicurean reminiscences, when he said,-- - - “’Twas at Christmas, I think, that I met with Miss Chase,-- - Yes, for Morris had ask’d me to dine; - And I thought I had never beheld such a face, - Or so noble a turkey and chine.” - -This conglomeration of feeling and feeding is mixed up with all the -acts of most importance in our lives; and though Bacchus, Cupid, Comus, -and Diana be no longer the deities or the _beati_ of the earth, the -substantial worship remains; and, as M. Brillat Savarin asserts, under -the most serious of all beliefs, we celebrate by repasts not only -births, baptisms, and marriages, but even interments. - -The last-named writer fixes the era of dinners from the time when -men, ceasing to live upon fruits, took to flesh; for then the family -necessarily assembled to devour what had been slain and cooked. They -know the pleasures of eating, which is the satisfaction of the animal -appetite; but the true, refined pleasures of the table date only from -the time when Prometheus fired the soul with heavenly flame, from which -sprang intellect, with a host of radiant followers in its train. A good -dinner sharpens wit, while it softens the heart. A hungry man is as -slow at a joke as he is at a favour. - -Nelson never knew the sensation of “fear,” but when he was asked to -dine with a Mayor. He had a horror of great dinners generally: and he -was right; for true intellectual enjoyment is seldom there. Horace, -with his modest repasts and fair wine, was something of the same -opinion as Horatio. Where the wine is indifferent, the guests too -numerous and ill-assorted, the spirit heavy, the time short, and the -repast too eagerly consumed, there is no dinner, in the legitimate -sense of the word. I never so much admired one of the most hospitable -of Amphitryons, my friend M. Watier, as when he once prefaced one of -his exquisite dinners by saying, with a solemn smile, “_Mes amis, ne -nous pressons pas!_” I thought of Talleyrand and his advice to a too -willing Secretary:--“_Surtout, pas de zèle!_” The most accomplished -professor of his time has laid down, as rules for securing to their -utmost degree the prandial pleasures of table, that the guests do -not exceed twelve, so that the conversation be general; that they -be of varied occupations, but analogous tastes; that the lighting, -cheerful cleanliness, and temperature of the dining-room be carefully -considered; that the viands be exquisite rather than numerous, and the -wines of first quality, each in its degree; the progression of the -former from the more substantial to the more light; of the latter, -from the more brilliant to the more perfumed. It is further enjoined -that there be no accelerated movement; all the guests are to consider -themselves as fellow-travellers, bound to reach one point at the same -time. The rules for the “after-dinner” in the drawing-room are those -more commonly observed in this country, with the exception that “punch” -expired when lemons ceased to be dear at the Peace; but the concluding -rule is worth noticing:--“That no one withdraw before eleven, and that -all be asleep by midnight.” - -I have spoken of the aids which the French nobility have given to -table enjoyment. To them may be added the innovation introduced by -Talleyrand, of offering Parmesan with soup, and presenting after it -a glass of dry Madeira. Talleyrand had one thing in common with St. -Peter,--he was hungry at the hour of mid-day, the dinner-time of the -Jews; and he would have also come under the anathema in Ecclesiastes -which is levelled against the Princes who eat in the morning. - -Plato was rather shocked at those people of Italy who made two -substantial meals daily; and Seneca was satisfied with one meal,--a -dinner of bread and figs. The Roman Priests of Mars dined jollily and -sumptuously in a secret room of the temple, and they would not be -disturbed. They were like Baillie de Suffren, who, being waited on in -India by a deputation, just as he was sitting down to dine, sent out -word that his religion would not allow of his interrupting his repast; -and the delegates retired, profoundly struck by the strictness of his -conscience. The original dinner hour of the mediæval ages was, as I -have elsewhere stated, ten o’clock, the _dixième heure_; hence the -name. It was not till the reign of Louis XIV. that so late an hour as -noon was fixed for the repast. It is clear, however, that we have not -so much changed the hours as changed the names of our meals. A French -historian shows us how a Dauphin of France dined (at ten o’clock) in -the fifteenth century:-- - -“As an every-day fare, the Dauphin took for his dinner rice pottage, -with leeks or cabbage, a piece of beef, another of salt pork, a dish -of six hens or twelve pullets, divided in two, a piece of roast -pork, cheese, and fruit.” The supper was nearly as plentiful; but, -on particular days, the bill of fare was varied. It is added, that -the Barons of the Court had always the half of the quantity of the -Dauphin; the Knights, the quarter; and the Equerries and Chaplains, the -eighth. “Take pride from Priests, and nothing remains,” once remarked -an Encyclopædist to Voltaire. “Umph!” said Voltaire; “do you, then, -reckon gluttony for nothing?” Gluttony, at least, does not seem to have -characterized the Dauphin’s Chaplains, in the fifteenth century, seeing -that they took an eighth where a Baron had half. - -But there was a late Prince of Bourbon, who dined after a more singular -fashion than that of the Dauphins, his ancestors. I allude to the -Prince mentioned by Maurepas, and whose imagination was so sick, that -he fancied himself a hare, and would not allow a bell to be rung, -lest it should terrify him into the woods, where he might be shot by -his own game-keepers, and afterwards served up at his own table. At -another time, he had a fancy that he would look well dished up; and, -dreaming himself a cauliflower, he stuck his feet in the mould of his -kitchen-garden, and called upon his people to come and water him! At -length, he pronounced himself dead, and refused to dine at all, as an -insult to his spiritual entity. He would have died, had he not been -visited by two friends, who introduced themselves as his late father, -and the deceased Maréchal de Luxembourg; and who solemnly invited him -to descend with them to the shades, and dine with the ghost of Maréchal -Turenne. The melancholy Prince accepted with alacrity, and went down -with them to a cellar already prepared for the banquet of the departed; -and he not only made a hearty meal, but, as long as his fancy made of -himself a ghost, he insisted every day on dining with congenial shadows -in the coal-cellar! In spite of this monomaniacal fantasy, he was -excessively shrewd in all matters of business, especially where his own -interests were concerned. - -Thus much--briefly and imperfectly, I fear--for Dinner Traits. In the -next chapter we will put something on them. And as we have been drawing -examples from folly, let us end this section by adding a maxim full of -wisdom. “Be not made a beggar,” says _Ecclesiasticus_, “by banqueting -upon borrowing, when thou hast nothing in thy purse.” If this maxim -were generally adopted, there might be fewer dinners given, but there -would be more dinners paid for. But some people are like the ancient -Belgians, who borrowed, and, indeed, lent, upon promises of repayment -in the world to come! Many a dinner-giver belongs to the class of -the borrowing Belgians of antiquity. After all, there was, perhaps, -more intended honesty in the compact than _we_ can distinguish. A -compact far less honest was made some years ago by an Irish Baronet, -who had given so many dinners for which he had not paid, that he was -compelled to pledge his plate in order to raise means to satisfy the -most pressing of his creditors. Some time subsequently, he induced -the pawnbroker to lend him the plate for one evening, on hire; the -pawnbroker’s men were to wait at the dinner in livery, and convey the -silver back as soon as the repast was concluded. The dinner was given -and enjoyed, and the company made the attendants drunk, helped the -Baronet to pack up his forks, spoons, ladles, and épergnes, with which -he set off for Paris, where some of them afterwards visited him at the -little dinners he used to give in the Rue de Bourbon, and laughed over -the matter as a very capital jest. - -I will only add here the record of the fact, that sitting at table to -drink, after dinner was over, was introduced by Margaret Atheling, the -Saxon Queen of Scotland. She was shocked to see the Scottish gentlemen -rise from table before _grace_ could be said by her Chaplain, Turgot; -and she offered a cup of choice wine to all who would remain. Thence -the fashion of hard drinking following the “thanksgiving.” - - - - -THE MATERIALS FOR DINING. - - -“All flesh is grass;” and grass has been the foundation of all feasts, -in a double sense. It was not only a part of the early repast, in -some shape or another, by derivation rather than immediately, but -it formed the most ancient seats occupied by primitive and pastoral -guests in very remote times. Dr. Johnson approved of asparagus being -called “grass.” Romulus thought grass a sacred emblem, or he would -not have suddenly converted his twelve lay foster-brothers into a -priesthood to look after it. When Baber had defeated the Afghans of -Kohat, they approached him in despair, and, according to their custom -when in extremities, with grass between their teeth, to signify, as -the imperial autobiographer says, “We are your oxen.” Baber treated -them worse than oxen; for the amiable savage says, “All that were taken -alive were beheaded by my order, and at the next halting-place we -erected a minaret of their skulls.” And the conqueror dined pleasantly -in front of the monument. - -My friend, Captain Lionel da Costa, tells me, that on accompanying (_en -amateur_) a French force on a razzia against an Arab tribe in Algeria, -he witnessed the employment of grass as an emblem of defiance rather -than of submission. The French officers had assembled the Arab Chiefs, -and, telling them that the foreigners had filled up their wells, -carried off their cattle, and burned their dwellings, exhorted them to -submission, asking them what they would do further against a country -so powerful as France? The Arabs, as if impelled simultaneously, -stooped to the earth, plucked some scant blades of grass there growing, -and began chewing the same in angry silence: this was all their reply, -and by it they intimated that they would eat what the earth gave, like -the beasts that are upon it, rather than surrender. Their enemies could -not refrain from admiring and feeding such adversaries; their mute -eloquence was worth more than any thing uttered to tyrants by Power’s -statue of the Greek Slave, which, according to Mrs. Elizabeth Browning, -“thunders white silence,”--a silence that must have been akin to that -in the French Tragedy, “_silence qui se fit entendre_!” - -Soup, as I have remarked, is not a bad preparation for the stomach. -Some one calls it the “preface of a dinner,” adding, however, that -a good work needs no preface. Soup is of very ancient date. Rebecca -and Jacob ate of a pottage, in which the meat was cut into small bits -_before_ the muscular fibres had cooled and become hardened, and stewed -in milk, thickened with meal and herbs. The famous French gastronomist, -the Marquis de Cussy, was orthodox in his gastronomy, fed well, but -heeded the church. His favourite soup in Lent was an onion soup, -composed of a score of small bulbs, well cleaned, sliced, and put into -a stew-pan, with a lump of fresh butter and a little sugar. They were -turned over the fire till they became of a fine golden colour, when -they were moistened with broth, and the necessary quantity of bread -added. Before the soup was served, its excellence was perfected by the -addition of two small glasses of very old Cognac brandy. This Lent fare -was, however, only the preface to salmon and asparagus, with which the -orthodox epicure mortified his appetite. - -The famous Carême did with the soups he discovered, what the most -famous navigators have done with the new territories on which they were -the first to land; namely, give them the names of the most illustrious -contemporaries then existing. Royalty was honoured in the “_Potage -Condé_;” music in that of “Boieldieu;” and the medical faculty, which -Carême generally despised, in the “_Soupes à la Broussais_, _Roques_, -and _Segalas_;” poetry was illustrated in the “_Lamartine_;” history -in the “_Dumesnil_;” and philosophy in the “_Potage Buffon_.” The -last name he thus bestowed, was to his last culinary inspiration just -before death, when he conferred on a vegetable soup the name of “Victor -Hugo.” It was after reading the “_Messéniennes_,” that he created the -“_Matelotte à la Delavigne_;” and he paid the doctor who had cured -him of an indigestion, by inventing the dish of fish which he called -“_Perche à la Gaubert_.” And with this record we will put the fish on -our own table. - -“It is only the Arabs of the desert that affect to despise fish.” This -eastern proverb is tantamount to the more homely one of, “The grapes -are sour;” for the Arabs only affect to despise that which they cannot -readily obtain. The Jews were prohibited from eating fishes without -scales or fins. The Egyptian Priests cared not for fish of any sort, -but they generally allowed the people to eat with what appetite they -chose, of what the priesthood declined to taste. It is said in the -legend, that St. Kevin lived by the fish he caught in the Lake of -Glendaloch; and that when the celebrated beauty tempted him, she did it -by flattery and suggestion:-- - - “‘You’re a rare hand at fishing,’ says Kate, - ‘It’s yourself, dear, that knows how to hook them; - But, when you have caught them, agrah! - Don’t you want a young woman to cook them?’” - -Gatis, Queen of Spain, was something like Mr. Lover’s “Kate;” for, if -her subjects caught fish well, she it was who first taught them how to -cook what they caught, and how to enjoy what they cooked. - -When philosophers were occupied with inquiries touching the soul of -an oyster, fish was probably not a popular diet. It certainly was not -so in Greece, until a comparatively late period. Then fish became -fashionable: the legislature secured their freshness by decreeing that -no seller should sit down until he had sold his entire stock; sages -discussed their qualities, and tragic writers introduced heroes holding -dialogues on the qualities of fish-sauce. There was a Greek society at -that day “against cruelty to fish,” by devouring what also, allegedly, -made the devourer ferocious and inhuman; but general society did not -allow its appetite to be influenced thereby. - -The Romans were enthusiastic for the mullet. It was for them _the_ -fish, _par excellence_. It was sometimes served up six pounds in -weight, and such a fish was worth £60 sterling. It was cooked on the -table, for the benefit and pleasure of the guests. In a glass vessel -filled with brine made from water, the blood of the mackerel, and salt, -the live mullet, stripped of its scales, was enclosed; and as its -fine pink colour passed through its dying gradations, until paleness -and death ensued, the _convives_ looked on admiringly, and lauded the -spectacle. - -The turbot was next in estimation; but as, occasionally, offending -slaves were flung into the turbot preserves for the fish to feed upon, -some gastronomists have affected to be horror-stricken at the idea of -eating a _turbot à la Romaine_; quite forgetting that so many of our -sea-fish, in their own domain, feed largely on the human bodies which -accident, or what men call by that name, casts into the deep. Our own -early ancestors in Britain were said to have entirely abstained from -fish. In later days, however, here as in France, the finny tribes were -protected by royal decrees; and certain fish were named--the sturgeon -was one--as to be caught for the royal table alone. In the same days -porpoises and seals were devoured by the commonalty, and the latter -knew not the art of the cooks of Louis XIV., who could so dress fish as -to give it the taste of any flesh they pleased to fix on as an object -of imitation. By this means, the King in Lent, while he obeyed the -church, enjoyed the gratification of feeling as though he were cheating -Heaven,--and with impunity, too! - -The most curious fish of which I have ever read, were those of a lake -attached to a Burgundian convent, and which were always of the same -number as the monks. If one of these sickened and died, the same -circumstance occurred with the fish; and if a new brother appeared in -the refectory, there was also sure to be found a new denizen in the -pond. These fish were, of course, piously inclined; but they did not -come up, in that respect, to the parrot of Cardinal Ascanius, which -could not only repeat the Creed, but could maintain a thesis! I believe -that the Burgundian fish were principally perch; and they _are_ an -eccentric fish. Arthur Young says, that “about the year 1760, perch -first appeared in all the lakes of Ireland and in the Shannon at the -same time.” - -As a singularity with respect to the cooking of fish, I may mention -that observed by the Romans with the _sepia_, or “cuttle-fish.” They -invariably took out the eyes before boiling it. It is in allusion to -this custom that Trachalion says, in the _Rudens_,-- - - “_Age nunc jam, - Jube oculos elidere, itidem ut sepiis faciunt coqui._” - -I think I have read somewhere, that the cuttle-fish was esteemed a -fitting sacrifice to the gods; but I do not know if pious people had -their pet _sepiæ_, as they had their pet lambs and pigs, (“_Sunt domi -agni et porci sacres_,” says the orthodox husband in the _Rudens_,) -reared for the purpose of being offered at the altars. - -The sturgeon is at this day, in China, reserved for the imperial -table. At those of Greece it was introduced by sound of trumpet, and -it was almost as esteemed a subject at those of Rome, until Vespasian -condescended not to care for it, and to bring other fish into fashion. -“It is _caviare_ to the general,” is a proverb which Shakspeare has -popularized. The _caviare_ is the roe of the sturgeon dried; that of -the larger sturgeon, which produces hundredweights of eggs, and tons -of oil, is _caviare_ for the general, and is not worth eating. The -delicate white _caviare_ is the produce of the smaller sturgeon, and it -is highly esteemed by gastronomists. It forms a great portion of the -food taken by the Greeks during their long Lent. - -We have heard of an American who tried to tame an oyster. The Romans -were more successful with their sea-eels, which would come when called, -and feed from the hands of men, who occasionally fattened them upon -live slaves. Vedius Pollio would have grown sick and disgusted, if he -had been asked to eat one of these slaves; but he was particularly fond -of the fish that had been fed upon such fare; and so he only ate his -slaves at second-hand; for _their_ flesh was declared by him to have -greatly improved the taste of the eel. Epicures with less ferocious -appetites preferred the fish that had been fattened upon veal steeped -in blood. Vitellius put the fish altogether out of fashion by only -eating the roes, which were procured for him at a great expense; and -Heliogabalus caused even the roes to cease to be modish, by forcing -them upon the Mediterranean peasants, who got as sick of their -repasts as English servants in the Scottish Highlands grow weary of -the everlasting sameness of their dinners consisting of venison and -salmon. The Egyptians placed the sea-eel in their Pantheon; and even -the unorthodox cannot deny that he was as good a deity as any to be -found there; and we are told that among the Sybarites, the fishers -and vendors of the eel were exempt from taxation! The origin of these -honours is, however, unknown. Nearly as great were offered, even in -Rome, to the fish known as the sea-wolf, which abounded in the most -filthy parts of the Tiber, and which some epicures distinguished by -the appellation of “child of the gods.” The Romans paid high prices -for it, as they did for the regicide lamprey,--a fish which killed our -first Henry, and which Italian cooks used to kill, as the murderers did -maudlin Clarence, in his Malmsey butt, by plunging the victim, decked -for the sacrifice with a nutmeg in his mouth, and a clove in either -gill, into a pan of Candian wine; after which, covered with almonds, -bread crumbs, and spices, he was exposed to a slow fire, and then to -the jaws that impatiently awaited him. It was once as popular as the -tunny,--a fish, by the way, which once so enriched the city of Sinope, -that the coin minted there bore the figure of the fish. Where they are -found at all, it is generally in shoals; but these are never to the -extent which Pliny speaks of, when he says that they so obstructed -the fleet of Alexander, that the pilots of the Macedonian madman were -compelled to shape a different course; and though they are to be found -in something like abundance in the Mediterranean, yet tourists who -resort thither must not expect to see realized the gay picture of -Vernet. It does not appear, however, that the tunny was ever in such -favour at ancient tables as the eel, which was greedily eaten where -it was not devoutly worshipped, or where medical ordinances had not -been directed against it, as unfavourable to the weak of digestion, -and perilous to those affected by pulmonary diseases. The pike, emblem -of fecundity and example of lengthened years, was still less popular. -The carp, which even surpasses the pike in fecundity, and is a long -liver to boot, was, on the other hand, an especial favourite, but it -was served up with sauces that would certainly not tempt a modern -gastronomist to eat a fish which is seldom worth eating, and which is -almost defiant of digestion. Carp, reduced to a pulp, and served up -with sows’ paps, and yolk of egg, must have been as nasty as gold fish -with carrots and myrtle leaves,--the delight of the Roman loungers at -their “Blackwall,” on the Tiber. So the Greeks spoiled good cod by -eating it with grated cheese and vinegar; and the Romans made perch -more indigestible than it was before, by swallowing Damascus plums -with it. But the ancients had strangely accommodating stomachs; a -sauce of honey could induce them to eat cuttle-fish. Garlic and cheese -made the swordfish delicacies; the rhombus floated into Greek stomachs -on a sauce of wine and brine; the ladies of Rome ate onions with the -muzil, and pine-nuts with the pilchard. The more refined Greeks, on -the other hand, would not touch the pilchard; and the same difference -of taste existed with regard to the loach; while, again, both Rome -and Greece united in admiration of the gudgeon. To neither of these -countries was the herring known. The Scots found the fish, and the -Dutch bought, pickled, and sold, or ate them; and it is said that -Charles V., in 1536, ate a herring upon the tomb of Beuckels, the first -salter of that fish, and therewith friend of the poor, and enricher of -the State. The profit realized by Holland exceeded two millions and -a half sterling, annually. But neither Greece nor Rome felt the want -of the herring while there was an abundant supply of the favourite -oyster. This shell-fish was easily procured by the Greeks from Pelorus, -Abydos, and Polarea; by the Romans, from Brindés, the Lake of Lucrinus, -Armorica, and even from Britain. The Romans were hardly worthy of the -delicacy, seeing that they abused it by mincing oysters, mussels, and -sea hedgehogs together, stewed the whole with pine-almonds and hot -condiments, and devoured the mixture scalding! Others, however, ate -them raw, when they were opened at table by a slave; and the larger the -fish, the more the Roman epicures liked them. They were not only eaten -before a feast to stimulate the appetite, but during a banquet, when -the appetite began to be palled. They excited to fresh exertion, and it -was a cleaner custom (perhaps) than that imperial one of exonerating -the stomach by tickling the throat with a peacock’s feather. The -Bourdeaux oyster was the favourite fish of most of the Emperors. It is -very inferior to the Whitstable oyster, however, and also to that which -goes by the name of “Colchester,” and which is not caught there. The -passion for the savoury fish is well illustrated in the epitaph which -says,-- - - “Tom ---- - Lies buried in these cloisters; - If, at the last trump, - He does not quickly jump, - Only cry ‘_Oysters_!’” - -If the Emperors affected oysters, the gods themselves patronized -mussels, a dish of which was contributed by Jupiter to the wedding -banquet of Hebe. The mythological sanction has, however, failed to -render the mussel popular, and for good reasons. It is often extremely -poisonous, and in certain conditions of the stomach they who eat -mussels may reckon upon being attacked by violent cutaneous disorders, -painfully participated in by the oppressed intestines. - -It was otherwise with the tortoise, the blood of which was reckoned -good in cases of ophthalmia, and the flesh of which was eagerly -devoured. The natural history of the products of those early times -seems to have been written by philosophers with very poetical -imaginations. We read of shells of tortoises being converted into roofs -of cottages, as we are told by Pliny of crawfish measuring four cubits -in length. It was then that men ate lobsters _au naturel_, and crabs -converted into sausages. But this latter dish was a more dainty one -than that afforded by the frog,--the abhorrence of early gastronomists, -but the delight of many French and German epicures, who first find -delight in angling for these unclean beasts with a bait of yellow soap, -and then swallowing, with delight more intense, the hind-quarters of -the animal they have caught. But if the moderns swallow frogs, the -ancients ate the polypus,--and which were the nastiest even I could not -tell! The Romans were especially fond of fish; and some “fast” epicures -among them not only had preserve ponds of fish on the roofs of their -houses, but little rivulets stocked therewith around the dinner-table, -whence the guests selected their fish, and delivered them to be cooked. - -It was once thought that the prawn, or shrimp, was somehow necessary to -the production of soles, acting, it was believed, as a sort of nurse, -or foster-parent, to the spawn. But this I suppose to be about as true -as that soles always swim in pairs, with three-pennyworth of shrimps -behind them, ready for sauce. - -I remember two anecdotes connected with fish at table, which a guest -may retail when he is next at that period of the repast. Talleyrand -was dining, in the year 1805, with the Minister of Finance, who did -the honours of his house in the very best style. A very fine carp was -on the table opposite to Talleyrand, but the fish was already cold. -“That is a magnificent carp,” said the financier: “how do you like it? -It came from my estate of Vir-sur-Aisne.” “Did it?” said Talleyrand, -“but why did you not have it cooked _here_?” This reply was not as -fatal to the utterer of it, as a remark once made by Poodle Byng at -Belvoir Castle. “Ah, ah!” he exclaimed, as he saw the fish uncovered at -the Duke of Rutland’s board, “my old friend Haddock! I have not seen a -haddock, at a gentleman’s table, since I was a boy.” The implication -shut the gates of Belvoir on the unlucky Poodle from that day forward. -He was never again the Duke’s guest. - -Some French writers have asserted, after tracing the “vestiges of -creation” according to a fashion of their own, that man originally -sprang from the ocean; and that his present condition is one of -development, the consequence of life ashore, and exposure to -atmospheric air! According to this theory, I suppose, Venus Anadyomene -was the Eve of our fishy generation, and mermaids show the transition -state, when our ancestors were of both land and sea, and yet properly -of neither! - -As judges of fish, the moderns are inferior to the ancients. A Greek -or Roman epicure could, at first sight, tell in what waters the fish -before him had been caught. This sort of wisdom is, however, not -uncommon to oyster-eaters, who swallow so greedily what contains -little nourishment, but what may be easily digested. It was not -unusual, some years ago, in France, for a gourmand to prepare for -dinner by swallowing a gross, or a dozen dozen, of oysters! Twelve of -them, including the liquor, will weigh four ounces; and the gross, -four pounds (Troy)!--a pretty amount of ballast whereupon to take in -freight. The skin of such a feeder had need be in a good condition; but -so, indeed, ought that of every one who cares for his digestion. When -we remember that a person in health, who takes eight pounds of aliment -during twenty-four hours of his wakefulness, discharges five of the -eight pounds solely through the pores by perspiration, it will at once -be seen that to hold the skin clean, and keep the pores unobstructed, -is of first-rate necessity for the sake of digestion and comfort. - -There are sea-board populations who live almost exclusively on fish. -They feed their domestic animals upon it, and with it manure their -ground; so that the pork they may occasionally indulge in, acquires -a fish-like flavour, and their bread is but a consequence of the -plentiful rottenness of sprats. Such populations are usually lean and -sallow, but they are strong-muscled and active-limbed; and altogether -they afford good testimony in favour of the efficacy of a fish diet, -when no better is to be had. As a diet, fish is only so far stimulating -that it augments the lymph rather than renews the blood. It is a puzzle -to many gastronomic philosophers that fish was so constant a diet of -the monkish orders. Its heating quality hardly suited men who were -required to be ever coolly contemplative. But this matter I leave to -the philosophers to determine. One of them,--that is, a gastronomic -philosopher,--M. Fayot, says, that “if you would have a dinner composed -altogether of fish,” the meal should consist of “a turbot, a large -salmon done in a _court-bouillon_, flanked with aromatic herbs, and -covered with a fresh winding-sheet of delicate seasoning. In such -dinners, sea-fish have, undoubtedly, the first rank; and among them -the Cherbourg lobster, the shrimp of Honfleur, the cray-fish of the -Seine, and the smelts of that river’s mouth, and numerous fresh-water -fish mingle agreeably. Salmon and turbot should be done briskly; -drink afterwards a glass of those old wines which give a digestive -action to the stomach.” With M. Fayot, the turbot is “the king of -fish, especially in Lent, as it is then of most majestic size. You may -serve up salmon with as much ornament as you will, but a turbot asks -for nothing but aristocratic simplicity. On the day after he makes -his first appearance, it is quite another affair. It may be then -disguised; and the best manner of effecting this is, to dress him _à -la Béchamel_,--a preparation thus called from the Marquis de Béchamel, -who, in the reign of Louis XIV., for ever immortalized himself by this -one _ragoût_.” - -The _Almanach des Gourmands_ speaks of a Lorraine carp which was fed on -bread and wine, and which was twice sent to the Paris market, in the -care of a courier who travelled by the mail. It returned to its native -waters in default of a purchaser willing to give thirty _louis-d’ors_ -for the monstrous delicacy. This was when fish dinners were much in -vogue in Paris. There was then a _table d’hôte_ for a fish repast only, -held at a house profanely called, “The Name of Jesus.” This house -stood in the “Cloître St. Jacques de l’Hôpital,” and every Wednesday -and Friday it was crowded by the Clergy, who dined magnificently on -_maigre_ fare, for about 2_s._ a head. It is of one of these that -Fayot recounts a pleasant story, the locality, however, of which was -the _Rocher de Cancale_. A certain Abbé dined there so copiously off -salmon, that a fit of indigestion was the consequence. Some days -afterwards, when celebrating Mass, the savoury memories of the fish -flocked into his mind; and he was heard to murmur, not the _meâ culpâ_ -of the “_Confiteor_,” but, as he quietly beat his breast, “Ah! that -capital salmon! that capital salmon!” - -Of the more nutritive species of fish, turbot, cod, whiting, haddock, -flounder, and sole, are the least heating. Of these, the cod is the -least easy of digestion, though turbot is quite as difficult of -digestion when much lobster sauce is taken with it. The crimping of -cod facilitates the digesting of the fish. Sole and whiting are easily -digested. Salmon is nutritive, but it is oily, heating, and not very -digestible; far less so than salmon trout. The favourite parts of -most of these fish are the least fit for weak stomachs, and the most -trying to strong ones. Salmon, caught after the spawning season has -commenced, is almost poisonous; and eels are objectionable at all -seasons, from their excessive oiliness. Shell-fish generally may be put -down as “indigestible,” particularly the under-boiled lobsters of the -London market. The mussel is especially so; and these are not rendered -innocuous by the removal of the beard, which is not more hurtful than -any other part. Shell-fish, and, indeed, fish generally, affects the -skin, by sympathy with the stomach. The effect is, sometimes, as if a -poison had been generated: at others it very sensibly affects the odour -of the cutaneous secretions. This effect was thoroughly understood when -the Levitical Priests, like those of Egypt, were prohibited from eating -fish. The prohibition was based upon a just principle. - -The Egyptian and Levitical Priests were more obedient to such -prohibitions than St. Patrick, who once, overcome by hunger, helped -himself to pork chops on a fast-day. An angel met him with the -forbidden cutlets in his hand; but the saint popped them into a pail -of water, pattered an Ave-Mary over them, and our indulgent Lady -heeded the appeal by turning them into a couple of respectable and -orthodox-looking trout. The angel looked perplexed, and went away, -with his index finger on the side of his nose. And see what came of -it! In Ireland, meat dipped into water, and christened by the name of -“St. Patrick’s Fish,” is commonly eaten there even on fast-days, and -to the great regret of all those who eat greedily enough to acquire an -indigestion. - -St. Patrick’s fish ought to have fetched as high a price as the four -cod which formed the sole supply in Billingsgate-market on one of the -great frost-days in January, 1809; they were sold to one dealer for -fourteen guineas. During the same month, salmon was sold at a guinea -a pound! When fish is so high-priced, it is time to have done with -it. So, _enlevez_! and let us to the succeeding courses of viands more -substantial. While the fish is being removed, I will merely relate -that it was the practice of Sir Joshua Reynolds, who gave plentiful -dinners to admirable men, in his house in Leicester Square, always to -choose his own fish, of which he was a capital judge. He was, on those -occasions, ever the first visitor to the fish-shop still existing, in -its primitive simplicity, in Coventry-street. He selected the best; -and later in the day, his niece, Miss Palmer, used to call, dispute -the price, and pay for the fish. Sir Joshua’s table is said to have -been too crowded, both as to guests and dishes, while there was scant -attendance, and a difficulty of getting served; but the hilarity -compensated for all. The guests enjoyed themselves with a vulgar -delight that would have very much ruffled the dignity of such a pompous -president at repasts as the bewigged, bepatched, and bepowdered Sir -Peter Lely. - -With the introduction of animal food is dated the era of professional -cooks; and that era itself is set down by M. Soyer, a competent -authority, as having commenced in the year of the world 1656. Other -authorities give 2412 as the proper date, when Prometheus, or -Forethought, as his name implies, taught men the use of fire, and -cooked an ox. But I think that both dates and mythology are somewhat -loose here, and that the period is easier of conjecture than of -determination. Ceres killed the pig that devoured her corn, Bacchus -the goat that nibbled at the tendrils of the vine, and Jupiter the -ox that swallowed his sacred cakes; and the animals slain by deities -were roasted and eaten by men. Another tradition is, that roast meat -originally smoked only on the altars of the gods, and that the Priests -lived on the pretended sacrifices, until some lean and greedy heretic, -having wickedly pilfered the sacred viands, so improved under the diet, -that his example was promptly followed, and men took to animal food, -in spite of the thunder of gods and the anathemas of Priests. I need -not say where there is better authority than all these pretty tales -for man’s subduing to his use and service the beasts of the earth, the -birds of the air, and the fishes of the sea. - -A rearer of cattle was, in the olden time, an aristocrat in his way. -The gods looked after his herds, and the law gave its protection where -Olympian divinity so often proved worthless. Bubona sat the watchful -goddess of their fattening; and it was she who blessed the cabbages -steeped in vinegar, the straw and wheat-bran, and the bruised barley, -wherewith the oxen were prepared for the cattle-show or the market. In -the latter, the office of the Roman Prefect fixed the selling price: -the breeder could neither ask more nor take less than according to -the official tariff. There was a singular custom at one time in Rome, -which proves, however, that the seller had a voice in declaring the -value of his stock. Purchaser and vendor simultaneously closed, and -then suddenly opened, one of their hands, or some of the fingers. If -the number of fingers on both sides was even, the vendor obtained the -price which he had previously asked for his meat; but if the number was -uneven, the buyer received the viands for the sum he had just before -tendered. This was as singular a custom as, and a more honest one than, -that adopted by the first Dutch settlers in America. In their trading -with the Indians a Dutchman’s fist was established as the standard of -weight, with this understanding, that when a Dutchman was selling to an -Indian his fist weighed a pound, but that it should only be half that -weight when the Hollander was a purchaser! - -The Roman markets were well supplied, and the pig seems to have been -the national favourite. The Emperors used to distribute thousands -of pounds of pork to the poor, as on festive occasions we, less -magnificently, divide among the needy our time-honoured English roast -beef. There was even an edict against making sausages of any thing -_but_ pork,--an edict which is much needed in some of our suburbs, -where “pork sausages” are made of any thing but pig;--and, after all, -they could not be made of a dirtier animal. But the grave Romans -strangely reverenced this unclean beast. Pliny places him only one -degree below humanity; and certainly the porcine and human stomachs -are very much alike! In the East, our ancient friend was a Pariah, and -his position among the unclean was fixed by a Jewish doctor, who said, -that if ten measures of leprosy were flung into the world, nine of them -would naturally fall to the execrated pig. There is no doubt that the -eating of the flesh of the pig in hot climates would bring on diseases -in the human system akin to leprosy; and this fact may have tended to -establish the unpopularity of the animal throughout the East, and to -account also for the prohibition. Galen, however, prescribed it as good -food for people who worked hard; and there are modern practitioners -who maintain that it is the most easily digested of all meats. It is -certainly more easy of digestion than that respectable impostor, the -boiled chicken, which used so cruelly to test, and defy, the feeble -powers of invalids. - -Pigs were fatted, both in Greece and Rome, until they had attained -nearly the bulk of the elephant. These fetched prices of the most -“fancy” description; and they were served up whole, with an entire -Noah’s-ark collection of smaller animals inside, by way of stuffing. -A clever cook could so dress this meat as to make it have the flavour -of any other viand; and the first culinary _artistes_ of the day -prided themselves on the preparation of a _ragoût_ composed of young -pigs stifled before they were littered. The mother would have had no -difficulty in performing this feat herself for her own young, if sows -generally had been as huge as the one mentioned by Varro, and which he -says was so fat as to be incapable of movement, and to be unconscious -that a mouse, with a young family, had settled in the folds of her fat, -where they lived like mites in cheese. - -In another page, I have spoken of what were called “the sacred pigs -and lambs.” Menæchmus, in Plautus, asks the price of the “_porci -sacres, sinceri_.” “_Sacres_” was applied to all animals intended -for immolation. The _sinceri porci_ were the white and spotless pigs -offered to the Lares on behalf of the insane. The merchant who gives -instruction, in the _Pseudolus_, to his servant, as to the splendid -repast that is to be served up on his birthday, is very particular -on the subject of pork; and he shows us what parts formed a dish -that might tempt princes,--the ham, and the head: “_Pernam, callum, -glandium, sumen, facito in aquâ jaceant_.” - -If men were not, anciently, fonder of beef than of pork, the reason, -perhaps, was, that the ox was religiously reverenced, because of his -use to man, whereas the pig was really of no value at all but for -consumption. The excellence of the ox as food was, nevertheless, very -early ascertained, and acted on by some primitive people. The Jews were -permitted to eat of that of which Abraham had offered a portion to -angels; and calf and ox were alike an enjoined food. The Greeks, too, -devoured both with much complacency, as they also did tripe, which was -deemed a dainty fit for heroes. Indeed, for tripe there was an ancient -and long-standing propensity among the early nations. It formed the -chief dish at the banquets of men who met to celebrate the victory of -mortals and gods over the sacrilegious Titans. - -The lamb and the kid have smoked upon divine altars and humble tables. -The Greeks were especially fond of both, and the Romans were like them -in this respect; but the Egyptians religiously abstained from the kid; -and more than one Eastern nation held, as of faith, that the lamb was -more fitting as an offering to the gods than as a dish for men. On -the other hand, there were people who preferred the flesh of the ass, -which was not an uncommon dish at Roman tables, where dogs, too, were -served as a dainty; for Hippocrates had recommended them as a refined -food; and the Greeks swallowed the diet thus authoritatively described. -The Romans, however, are said to have eaten the dog out of vengeance. -The curs of the Capitol were sleeping, when the sacred and watchful -geese saved it by their cackling; and thence arose, it is believed, the -avenging appetite with which puppies, dressed like hares, were tossed -into the stomachs of the unforgiving Romans. They were also sacrificed -to the Dog-star. - -It is worthy of remark, that Mexico was partly conquered by aid of the -pig. Cortez was in need of supplies of fresh meat on his march, and he -took with him a large herd of swine,--sows as well as pigs,--“these -animals being very suitable for a long journey, on account of their -endurance of fatigue, and because they multiply greatly.” The Indians, -on most occasions, however, appear to have been able to have supplied -him plentifully: for we read, that at Campeche, for instance, in return -for his presents, they placed before him partridges, turtle-doves, -goslings, cocks, hares, stags, and other animals which were good to -eat, and bread made from Indian corn, and fruits. It was, for all the -world, like meeting a burglar at your dining-room door, and asking him -to stay and take breakfast, before he went off with the plate! - -When the uncle of Job entertained his heavenly visitors, the dish he -placed before them was “roasted veal,” of a freshly killed calf. It -was tender, because the muscular fibres had not had time to become -stiff; and its pleasant accompaniments were melted butter, milk, -and meal-cakes. Veal is the national dish of Germany, where mutton -is scarce, and calves abundant. It is poor food at any time; but -the German veal is the most tasteless of meats. There, indeed, is -applicable the smart saying of that ardent young experimentalist, who -declared that eating veal was as insipid an enjoyment as kissing one’s -sister! Cardinal Zinzendorf used to denounce pork quite as strongly. -He deemed pigs to have been of no use but for their blood, of which -he himself used to make a bath for his legs, whenever he had the -gout. Quixote Bowles, on the other hand, held pig, in any form, to -be the divinest of meats, and the animal the happiest of all created -things. With true Apician fervour, he would travel any distance to -feast on the sight of a fatted porker; and a view of that prize pig -of Prince Albert’s, which was so uniformly huge that, at first sight, -it was difficult to distinguish the head from the tail, would have -made him swoon with gentle ecstasy. Bowles was an epicure in bacon; -and, whenever he went out to dinner, he took a piece of it, of his -own curing, in his pocket, and requested the cook to dress it. The -people of the Society Islands carry respect for pigs even beyond the -compass of Bowles. They believe that there is a distinct heaven for the -porcine souls; and this paradise of pigs is called by them “Ofatuna.” -The Polynesian pig is certainly a more highly favoured animal than his -cousin in Ireland; for, in a Polynesian farm household, every pig has -his proper name, as regularly as every member of the family. Perhaps, -the strangest cross of pigs ever heard of, was that of Mr. Tinney’s -famous breed for porkers,--Chinese, crossed by a half-African boar; -the meat was said to be delicious. Finally, with respect to pigs, -they are connected with a popular expletive, with which they have, in -reality, nothing to do. “Please the pigs!” is shown, I think by Southey -in his “Espriella,” to be a corruption of “Please the pyx!” The pyx is -the receptacle which contains the consecrated wafer on Romish altars; -and the exclamation is equal to “Please God!” The corruption is as -curious a one as that of “tawdry,” from “’t Audrey,” or St. Audrey’s -fair, famous for the sale of frippery,--showy, cheap, and worthless. - -They who are half as particular about mutton as Quixote Bowles was -about pork, would do well to remember, that sheep continue improving -as long as their teeth remain sound, which is usually six years; and -that, at all events up to this time, the older the mutton, the finer -the flavour. A spayed ewe, kept five years before she is fattened, is -superior to any wether mutton. Dr. Paris, however, states that wedder -mutton is in perfection at five years old, and ewe mutton at two years -old; but he acknowledges that the older is the more digestible. It is -the glory of one locality, famous for its sheep, that the rot was never -known to be caught upon the South Downs. It is further said, that a -marsh, occasionally overflowed with salt water, was never known to rot -sheep. A curious fact is stated by Young, in his “Survey of Sussex;” -namely, that Lord Egremont had, in his park, three large flocks of -the Hereford, South-Down, and Dishley breeds; and that these three -flocks kept themselves perfectly distinct, although each had as much -opportunity of mixing with the others as they had with themselves. - -I have alluded, in another page, to a circumstance first noticed, I -believe, by Madame Dacier,--that there is no mention of boiled meat, -as food, throughout Homer’s Iliad. The fair commentator is right; but -“boiling” is, nevertheless, used by the poet as a simile. When (in the -twenty-first book) Neptune applies his flames to check the swelling -fury of Scamander,-- - - “The bubbling waters yield a hissing sound, - As when the flames beneath a caldron rise, - To melt the fat of some rich sacrifice. - Amid the fierce embrace of circling fires - The waters foam, the heavy smoke aspires: - So boils th’ imprison’d flood, forbid to flow, - And, choked with vapours, feels his bottom glow!” - -This is not a very elegant version of the original, it must be -confessed, albeit the translation is Pope’s. It is, however, the only -reference to boiling to be found in Homer, and here the fat of the -sacrifice boiled down is that of a pig. - - Κνίσσῃ κελδόμενος ἁπαλοτρεφέος σιάλοιο. - -I do not know that I can take leave of mutton and the meats by doing -them greater honour than by mentioning that Napoleon ate hastily of -mutton before he entered on the contest at Leipsic, and he lost the -triumph of the bloody day through a fit of indigestion. - -Before the era of kitchen gardens, scurvy was one of the processes by -which the English population was kept down. Cabbages were not known -here until the period of Henry VIII.; and turnips are so comparatively -new to some parts of England, that their introduction into the northern -counties is hardly a century old. A diet exclusively of animal food is -too highly stimulant for such a climate as ours; and an exclusively -vegetable diet is far less injurious in its effects. No meat is so -digestible as tender mutton. It has just that degree of consistency -which the stomach requires. Beef is not less nutritious, but it is -rather less easy of digestion, than mutton: much, however, depends -upon the cooking, which process may, really not inaptly, be called -the first stage of digestion. The comparative indigestibility of lamb -and veal arises from the meat being of a more stringy and indivisible -nature. Old laws ordained that butchers should expose no beef for sale, -but of an animal that had been baited. The nature of the death rendered -the flesh more tender. A coursed hare is thus more delicious eating -than one that has been shot; and pigs whipped till they die, may be -eaten with relish, even by young ladies who pronounce life intolerable. -A little vinegar, administered to animals about to be killed, is said, -also, to render the flesh less tough; and it is not unusual to give -a spoonful of this acid to poultry, whose life is required for the -immediate benefit of the consumer. Some carnivorous animals have been -very expert at furnishing their own larder. Thus we read, that the -eagles in Norway exhibit as much cunning in procuring their beef as can -well be imagined; and more, perhaps, than can well be believed. They -dive into the sea, we are told, then roll in the sand, and afterwards -destroy an ox by shaking the sand in his eyes, while they attack him. -I think the French eagle tried a similar plan with the English bull, -during the wars of the Empire, and very ineffectually. It dived into -the sea, and rolled itself in the sand at Boulogne, and shook abundance -of it across the Channel; but the English bull more quietly shook it -off again from his mane, and the eagle turned to an easier quarry in -Austria. Animals not carnivorous have sometimes been as expert. There -have been horses, for instance, who have had their peculiar appetite -also for meat. Some twenty years ago, we heard of one at Brussels, -which, fond of flesh generally, was particularly so of raw mutton, -which it would greedily devour whenever it could get, as it sometimes -did, to a butcher’s shop. - -The Jews, it is said, never ate poultry under their old dispensation; -and French gastronomists assert that this species of food was -expressly reserved to enrich the banquets of a more deserving people. -About the merits of the people the poultry, and winged animals -generally, would perhaps have an opinion of their own, were they -capable of entertaining one; for nowhere, as in France, have those -unfortunate races been so tortured, and merely in order to extract -out of their anguish a little more exquisite enjoyment for the palled -appetites of epicures. The turkey has, perhaps, the least suffered -at the hands of the Gallic experimentalists, though _he_ has not -altogether escaped. The goose has been the most cruelly treated, -especially in the case of his being kept caged before a huge fire, and -fed to repletion until he dies, the Daniel Lambert of his species, -of a diseased liver, which is the most delicious thing possible in a -pie. But it is ignoble treatment for the only bird which is said to be -prescient of approaching earthquakes. The goose saved Rome, and was -eaten in spite of his patriotism. He is skilled in natural philosophy, -and his science does not save him from death and sage-and-onions. Nay, -even a female Sovereign of England could not hear of the defeat of the -Spanish Armada without decreeing “death to the geese,” until the time -comes when Mr. Macaulay’s Huron friend shall be standing on a fragment -of Blackfriars’ Bridge, sketching the ruins of St. Paul’s. - -It must be allowed, however, that the scientific ladies of farm-yards -have improved upon the knowledge of their ancestresses. Formerly, of -turkeys alone, full one-half that pierced the shell perished; but now -we rear more than fifteen out of twenty. I do not know, however, that -that fact is at all consolatory to the turkey destined to be dined upon. - -Themistocles ordered his victory over Xerxes to be yearly commemorated -by a cock-fight; and the bird itself was eaten out of honour, as -dogs in Rome were for reasons of vengeance. At Rome, the hen was -the favourite bird; but hens were consumed in such quantities, that -Fannius, the Consul, issued a decree, prohibiting their being slain -for food, during a certain period; and, in the mean time, the Romans -“invented the capon.” The duck was devoured medicinally, that is, on -medical assurance that it was good diet for weak stomachs; and there -were great sages who not only taught that duck, as a food, would -maintain men in health, but that, if they were ill, the ample feeding -thereon would soon restore them again. Mithridates, it is alleged, ate -it as a counter-poison; other people, of other times and places, simply -because they liked it. The goose was in as much favour as the duck -with the digestion-gifted stomachs of the older races. It was _the_ -royal diet in Egypt, where the Monarch did not, like Queen Elizabeth, -recommend it to the people, but selfishly decreed that it was only to -be served at his own table. Gigantic geese, with ultra-gigantic livers, -were as much the delight of epicures in Rome, as the livers, if not the -geese, are now the _voluptas suprema_ of the epicure of France, and -of countries subject to the French code of diet. A liver weighing as -much as the rest of the animal without it, was a _morceau_, in Rome, -to make a philosopher’s mouth water. This was not proof of a more -depraved taste than that exhibited by a Christian Queen of France, who -spent sixteen hundred francs in fattening three geese, the delicate -livers of which alone Her Majesty intended to dine upon. The pigeon and -guinea-hen never attained to such popularity as the goose and duck; -while the turkey, and especially the truffled turkey-hen, has its value -sufficiently pointed out by the saying of the gastronome, that there -must be two at the eating of a truffled turkey,--the eater and the -turkey! The turkey, originally from the East, was slowly propagated -in Europe, and the breed appears to have gradually passed away, like -the bustard in England. It was brought hither again from America, and -its first re-appearance is said to have been at the wedding-dinner of -Charles IX. of France. - -The turkey was not protected, as the peacock was by Alexander, by a -decree denouncing death against whomsoever should kill this divine -bird, with its devilish note. The decree did not affect Quintus -Hortensius, who had one served up at the dinner which celebrated his -accession to the office of Augur. Tiberius, however, preserved the -peacock with great jealousy, and it was only rich breeders that could -exhibit this bird at their banquets. - -A man who passes through Essex may see whole “herds” of geese and -ducks in the fields there, fattening without thought of the future, -and supremely happy in their want of reflection. These birds are -“foreigners;” at least, nearly all of them are so. They are Irish by -birth, but they are brought over by steam, in order to be perfected by -an English education; and when the due state of perfection has been -attained, they are, like many other young people partaking of the -“duck” or the “goose,” transferred to London, and “done for.” - -Some gastronomic enthusiasts, unable to wait for their favourite -birds, have gone in search of them. This was the case with the oily -Jesuit, Fabi, who so loved beccaficoes. “As soon as the cry of the -bird was heard in the fields around Belley,” says the author of the -“_Physiologie du Goût_,” “the general cry was, ‘The beccaficoes are -come, we shall soon have Father Fabi among us.’ And never did he fail -to arrive, with a friend, on the 1st of September. They came for -the express purpose of regaling themselves on beccaficoes, during -the period of the passage of the bird across the district. To every -house they were invited in town, and they took their departure again -about the 23rd.” This good Father died in our “glorious memory” year -of 1688; and one of his choice bits of delirium was, that he had -discovered the circulation of the blood before Harvey! - -And now do I not hear that gentleman-like person at the lower end of -the table remark, that the circulation of the blood was a conceived -idea long before Harvey? You are quite right, my dear Sir; and your -remark is a very appropriate one, both as to time and theme, for -the circulation of the blood is one of the results of cooking. As -for preconception of the idea, it is sufficient for Harvey, that he -demonstrated the fact. The Doctors of ancient Roman days supposed that -the blood came from the liver; and that, in passing through the _vena -cava_ and its branches, a considerable quantity of it turned about, and -entered into the right cavity of the heart. What Harvey demonstrated -was, that the blood flows from the heart into all parts of the body, -by the arteries, from whence it is brought back to the heart again, by -the veins. Well, Sir, I know what you are about to remark,--that Paolo -Sarpi, that pleasantest of table-companions, claimed to have made the -demonstration before Harvey. True, Sarpi used to say, that he did not -dare publish his discovery, for dread of the Inquisition; but that he -confided it to brother Fabi da Aqua-pendente, who kept it close for -the same reason, but told it in confidence to Harvey, who published it -as his own. Well, Sir, Sir George Ent exploded all that, by proving -that Sarpi himself had first learned the fact from Harvey’s lips. -The Italians have the same right in this case, as they have to their -boast of having produced what old Ritson used to style, “that thing -you choose to call a poem, ‘Paradise Lost.’” It was an invention or -discovery at second-hand. - -What conceits Cowley has in his verses on Harvey! He makes the -philosophical Doctor pursue coy Nature through sap, and catch her at -last in the human blood. He speaks, too, of the heart beating tuneful -marches to its vital heat; a conceit which Longfellow twisted into -prettiness, when he said, that our “muffled hearts were beating funeral -marches to the grave.” You will remember, Sir, that Shakspeare makes -Brutus say, that Portia was to him “dear as the drops that visit this -sad heart.” Brutus himself would, perhaps, have said “liver;” and, by -the way, how very much to the same tune is the line in Gray’s “Bard,” -wherein we find,-- - - “Dear as the light that visits these sad eyes.” - -But there is in tuneful Edmund, in our ever-glorious friend Spenser, -a stanza which contains something that may pass for the circulation -theory. You remember, in the first canto of the Second Book, where the -bleeding lady is found by the good Sir Guyon:-- - - “Out of her goréd wound the cruel steel - He lightly snatch’d, and did the flood-gates stop - With his faire garment; then ’gan softly feel - Her feeble pulse, to prove if any drop - Of living blood yet in her veynes did hop; - Which when he felt to move, he hopéd faire - To call back life to her forsaken shop. - So well he did her deadly wounds repaire, - That at the last shee ’gan to breathe out living aire.” - -And now, Sir, I shall be happy to take a glass of wine with you, -obsolete as that once honoured custom has become. And allow me to send -you a slice of this venison. A little more of the fat? Certainly; -but, if you _will_ take currant jelly with it, the sin be upon your -own head. It has always been the approved plan, you say. Ah, my dear -Sir! think what the approved plan was, for years, in the treatment of -small-pox. That was not a gastronomic matter, you say? I am not so -sure of that; for the patient, swathed in scarlet cloth, had to drink -mulled port wine. But, on a question of diet, time and numbers, you -think, may be taken for authority. Alas, my dear Sir! did you ever -try the once popular receipt of Apicius for a thick sauce to roasted -chicken? Never! of course you have not; for, in such case, your young -widow would already have touched that pretty life-assurance we wot -of. English tastes, you urge? Ah! in that case, if old rule be good -rule, you must camp in Kensington Gardens, and eat acorns. In Germany, -where venison is a national dish, the idea of currant jelly would ruin -the digestion of a whole company. But I see you are incorrigible, and -William is at your elbow with the doubtful sauce. - -Galen could not appreciate venison as the early Patriarchs and the -Jewish people did, and as the Roman ladies did, who ate of it as a -preserver of youth, as well as a lengthener of life. A roebuck of -Melos would have brought tears of delight into the eyes of Diogenes. -The deer was preferred to the roebuck at Rome; but the wild boar was -also a favourite; and the Sicilian slave, _chef_ to Servilius Rullus, -cooked not less than three of different sizes in one. The largest had -baskets of dates suspended to its tusks, and a litter of young ones in -pastry lying in the same dish. Within the first was a second, within -the second a third, and within the third some small birds. Cicero, who -was _the_ guest for whom the dinner was got up, was as delighted with -the culinary slave, as Lucullus had been a few days before, when he -had eaten a dish of sows’ paps prepared by the same artist; and the -enraptured gastronome thought that all Olympus was dissolving in his -mouth! - -A wild boar was at marriage feasts what our wedding cakes are at those -dreadful destroyers of time and digestion,--wedding breakfasts,--an -indispensable accompaniment. Caranus, the Macedonian, has the -reputation of having exceeded all others in his nuptial magnificence; -for, instead of one boar at his banquet, he had twenty. But I have seen -more than that at many a breakfast in Britain. - -The ancient Britons abstained from the hare, like the Jews. Hippocrates -held that, as a food, it thickened the blood, and kept people from -sleep; but Galen--and such instances among the faculty are not -uncommon--differed from his professional brother. People followed the -advice of Galen; and though few, like Alexander Severus, could eat a -whole hare at every repast, yet many ate as plentifully as they well -could, accounting such diet profitable both to health and good looks. - -Hares were nearly as injuriously abundant in Greece as rabbits were -in Spain, where the latter animals are said to have once destroyed -Tarragona, by undermining it in burrowing! Nay, more: the Balearic -Isles were so overrun with them, that the inhabitants, afraid of being -devoured, sent an embassy to Rome; and Augustus dispatched a military -force, which not only slaughtered the enemy, but ate the half of them! -The more refined gluttons of Rome did not dine on the rabbit after this -fashion. They only picked a little of the young taken alive from the -slaughtered mother, or killed soon after birth. They were preferable to -the rabbits of the Parisian _gargottes_, where _fricassée de lapins_ -is invariably made of cats. And these, perhaps, are as dainty eating -as the hunch of the camel, or the feet of the elephant,--pettitoes for -Brobdignagian lovers to sup upon. - -But we _almost_ as villanously disguise our poultry. The latter, if not -_now_, used--according to Darwin--to be fed for the London market, by -mixing gin, and even opium, with their food, and keeping them in the -dark; but “they must be killed as soon as they are fattened, or they -become weak and emaciated, like human drunkards.” - -Game was almost as sacred to the Egyptian Priests, as eggs to the -sacerdotal gentlemen of some of the modern tribes of Africa. Under the -head of “game,” we no longer admit the birds which, according to Belon, -figured at the gastronomic tables of France in the sixteenth century. -These were the crane, the crow, and the cormorant, the heron, the swan, -the stork, and the bittern. The last-named bird was in high estimation, -although the taste for it was confessedly an “acquired” one. The larger -birds of prey were not then altogether despised by epicures, some of -whom could sit down with an appetite to roast vulture, while they -turned with loathing from the plump pheasant. - -This eastern bird, however, has, with this exception, enjoyed a -deserved reputation from the earliest ages. The Egyptian Kings kept -large numbers of them to grace their aviaries and their triumphs. -The Greeks reared them for the less sentimental gratification of the -stomach; and a simple Athenian republican, when giving a banquet, -prided himself on having on his board as many pheasants as there were -guests invited. - -Pheasants’ brains were among the ingredients of the dish that Vitellius -invented, and which he designated by the name of “Shield of Minerva.” -They were greedily eaten by many other of the Cæsars; and an offering -of them to the statue of Caligula was deemed to be propitiatory of -that very equivocal deity. The Emperors generally esteemed them above -partridges, which were trained for fighting, as well as fattened for -eating. Roman epicures fixed on the breast as the most “eatable” -portion of the gallant bird. The Greeks thought of it as we do of the -woodcock; and with them the leg of the partridge was the part the most -highly esteemed. At a Greek table would not have occurred the smart -dialogue which is said to have taken place at an English dinner. “Shall -I send you a leg or a wing?” said a carver to a guest he was about to -help. “It is a matter of perfect indifference to me,” was the reply; -and it is _not_ a courteous one. “It is a matter of equal indifference -to me,” said the first speaker, at the same time resuming his own knife -and fork, and going on with his dinner. - -Quails are variously said either to have recalled Hercules to life, or -to have cured him of epilepsy. The Romans, however, rather feared them, -as tending to cause epileptic fits. Galen thought so; Aristotle took a -different view, and the Greeks devoured them as readily as though they -had Aristotle’s especial authorization; and the Romans were only slowly -converted to the same way of thinking. Quails, like partridges and the -game-cock, were long reared for the arena; and legislators thought that -youth might learn courage from contemplating the contests of quails! - -The thrush was perhaps the most popular bird at delicate tables in -Greece. They were kept from the young, lest the taste should give -birth to permanent greediness; but when a girl married, she was sure -of a brace of thrushes, for her especial eating at the wedding-feast. -They were still more popular in Rome, where patrician ladies reared -thousands yearly for the market, and made a further profit by selling -the manure for the land. The thrush aviary of Varro’s aunt was one of -the sights of Rome, where men ruined themselves in procuring dishes -composed of these birds for their guests. Greatly, however, as they -abounded, there was occasionally a scarcity of them; for when the -physician of Pompey prescribed a thrush, by way of exciting the wayward -stomach of the wayward soldier to enjoyment, there was not one to be -found for sale in all Rome. Lucullus, indeed, had scores of them; but -Pompey, like many other obstinate people, chose rather to suffer than -put himself under an obligation; and he contrived to get well on other -diet. - -The diet was, nevertheless, held to be exceedingly strengthening; and -blackbirds, also, were prescribed as fitting food for weak digestions. -It was perhaps for this reason that the celebrated - - “Four-and-twenty blackbirds baked in a pie,” - -were the dainty dish set before the legendary and, presumedly, -dyspeptic King! In later times, we have had as foolish ideas connected -with them. The oil in which they were cooked was said to be good -for sciatica, or hip-gout; and Vieillot says that freckles might be -instantaneously removed from the skin, if----but ladies would never try -what Vieillot recommends. - -The blackbird was not imperially patronized. The stomachs of the -gastronomic Cæsars gave more greedy welcome to the flamingo. Caligula, -Vitellius, and Heliogabalus ruined their digestions by _ragoûts_ of -this bird, the tongues of which were converted into a stimulating -sauce. Dampier ate the bird, when he could get nothing else; and -thought the Cæsars fools for doing so when they could get any thing -beside. The ancients, whether Greeks or Romans, showed more taste -in eating beccaficoes,--that delicate little bird, all tender and -succulent, the essence of the juice of the fruits (especially the -fig) on which it feeds. The only thing to be compared with it is the -ortolan. Had Heliogabalus confined himself to these more savoury birds, -instead of acquiring indigestion on ostrich brains and flamingoes, -his name would have held a more respectable place in the annals of -gastronomy. But master and people were alike barbarous in many of -their tastes. Who now would think of killing turtle-doves for the -sake of eating their legs “devilled?” And yet _we_ eat the lark, that -herald of the skies, and earliest chorister of the morn. We eat this -ethereal bird with as little compunction as we do the savoury, yet -unclean, of the earth, earthy, duck. And this thought reminds me of a -story, for which I am indebted to a friend, himself the most amiable -of Amphitryons, the good things at whose table have ever wit, wisdom, -mirth, and good-fellowship attendant, as aids to digestion.[1] - - -A LIGHT DINNER FOR TWO. - -Many years ago, when railways were things undreamt of, and when the -journeys from Oxford to the metropolis were inevitably performed on -that goodly and pleasant high road which is now dreary and forlorn, a -gentleman and his son, the latter newly flushed with College fame and -University honours, rode forth over Magdalen Bridge and the Cherwell, -purposing to reach London in a leisurely ride. A groom, their only -attendant, carrying their scanty baggage with him on a good stout cob, -had been sent on in advance to order dinner at a well-known road-side -hostelry, where Oxford nags baited, and where their more adventurous -riders frequently caroused, out of reach of any supervision by -Principals or Pro-Proctors. - -Pleasant is the spot, well approved by past generations of Freshmen, -picturesque and charming to an eye content with rich fields, luxuriant -meadows, and pretty streams, tributaries of the now adolescent Thames, -whose waters had not at that date been polluted by barge or lighter at -that point of its course. The neighbourhood is famous for its plump -larks; and whether in a savoury pudding, swimming with beefsteak gravy, -or roasted, a round half-dozen together, on an iron skewer or a tiny -spit, those little warblers furnished forth a pretty adjunct on a -well-spread table, tempting to an appetite somewhat appeased by heavier -and more substantial viands. Mine host at our road-side quarters had a -cook who dressed them to a nicety; contriving to produce or develope a -succulency and flavour which meaner practitioners would scarcely have -deemed practicable. Now Martin, pursuant to his master’s instructions -for securing a repast of ducks and the dainty lark, finding the -landlord brought out from his shady porch by the clatter of the horse’s -hoofs on the well-beaten road, announced the approaching arrival, and -ordered dinner. “My master wishes to find a couple of larks, and a -dozen of ducks, well roasted, on his arrival at four o’clock.” “Did -I understand you rightly, young man?” said Boniface. “O!” said the -varlet, pettishly, “in Oxford no landlord needs twice telling;”--and -betook himself to the stables, looking forward to the enjoyment of a -tankard of good house-brewed ale,--no brewer’s iniquitous mixture,--and -the opportunity of shining with some lustre in the tap, or the kitchen, -before country bumpkins, eager to listen to a man like himself, who -had seen racing at Newmarket and Doncaster, and high life at Bath and -Cheltenham. Meantime, his masters came leisurely along the road, nor -thought of applying a spur, until the craving bowels of the younger -horseman, whose digestive organs were unimpaired by College theses and -examinations, suggested a lack of provender; and, their watches, when -consulted, indicating the near approach of the dinner hour, they broke -off their chat, and soon drew rein at their place of temporary sojourn. - -Finding the cloth laid, and the busy waiter’s preparations nearly -complete, they glanced with satisfaction at a table of somewhat -unnecessary dimensions, considering the limited extent of the party, -which our young Hellenist would have described as a “duality.” Just as -our travellers were growing impatient, the landlord, having previously -satisfied himself, by obsequious inquiry, that his guests were quite -ready, re-entered, bearing a dish with bright cover, and heading as -good a procession of domestics, each similarly laden, as the limited -resources of his modest establishment admitted. The large number -of dishes rather surprised the elder of the twain, whose mind was -less absorbed by the suggestions of appetite; and, having dispatched -the sole attendant left for a bottle of the best Madeira the cellar -could supply, and a jug of that malt liquor for which the house had -obtained some notoriety, he proceeded to look under the formidable -range of covers. Seeing under the first a couple of ducks, he said, -“Come, this is all right!” but finding the next, and the next, and -still the next, but a repetition of the same, either with or without -the odour of seasoning, he fairly stood aghast, when six couple of -goodly ducks stood revealed before him. The young collegian’s mirth -was great, his laugh hearty, at the climax of two pretty little chubby -larks which closed the line of dishes. Apple sauce and gravy, broccoli -and potatoes, stood sentries, flanking the array. Upon his ringing -the bell with no gentle hand, the landlord himself stepped in from -the passage, where he appeared to have awaited a summons; and, in -answer to a question the reader may easily anticipate, replied that -the servant’s order was precise, and that it was impatiently repeated -upon his own hesitation in accepting it. The respectability of the -landlord, and the evident truthfulness of his manner, stayed all -further questions. But the elder gentleman said firmly, that he should -not pay for what had been so absurdly provided; alleging, that no two, -or even three, persons could be found who would do justice to such -provisions. The landlord, like Othello, “upon that hint spake;” for he -saw a faint chance of righting a somewhat difficult matter. “O, Sir,” -said he, “I think I could find a man hard by, who would not consider -the supplies too much for his own appetite.” “Produce him,” said the -guest, “and settle the point; for, if you do, I will pay for the -whole.” The anxious landlord said no more; but, bowing, left in search -of a neighbouring cobbler, whose prowess with the knife and fork was -pre-eminent in the vicinity. Meantime, our hungry travellers sat down -to dinner with such good will, that each of them disposed of one of -the regiment; and, in a joint attack, a third fell mutilated, leaving -but fragmentary relics. A lark a-piece was a mere practical joke; and -cheese, with celery, left nothing farther wanting to appease those -cravings which had prompted them to action. While these little matters -were in progress, the landlord had found the shoemaker, and told his -story. “Well,” said Lapstone, “this is plaguy unlucky, for I’ve just -had a gallon of broth! Such a famous chance, too; for if there is any -thing I am particularly fond of, certainly ducks is a weak point, Sir.” -Boniface, thinking it his only chance, urged him to try; and the man -of bristles, nothing loth, consented. On being duly introduced, orders -were given for setting-to on the spot, to insure fair play, and defeat -any supplementary aid, or a deposit in any other pocket, save that with -which the savage in a nude state finds himself provided,--the stomach. -While the travellers sipped their wine, and trifled with their dessert, -the voracious cobbler fell heartily to work on the row of eight ducks -before him: one having been sent down for the undeserving groom, whose -blunder had proved a godsend to the man of leather. Wisely eschewing -vegetables, and eating scantily of bread, the _disjecta membra_ of the -doomed ducks rapidly yielded up their savoury integuments. But flesh -is weak, and cobblers’ appetites are not wholly unappeasable; so that -while the fifth victim was under discussion, a stimulant, in the shape -of “a little brandy,” was requested; and when the sixth was but slowly -and more slowly disappearing, poor Lapstone, who began to think farther -progress impossible, was seen whispering to the landlord. The gentleman -loudly demanded what the fellow was saying. “Sir,” said the landlord, -promptly and cunningly, “he says, he wishes there were half-a-dozen -more; for he is just beginning to enjoy them.” “Confound the rascal’s -gluttony,” cried the travellers; “not a bit more shall he have. Put -the remaining couple by for our supper; for we shall not leave your -house till to-morrow:”--an arrangement affording much relief to the -shoemaker, and entire satisfaction to the innkeeper. - - * * * * * - -To return to the lark. It is worthy of notice, that London is annually -supplied, from the country about Dunstable alone, with not less -than four thousand dozen of these succulent songsters. At Leipsic, -the excise on larks, for that single city, amounts to nearly £1,000 -sterling yearly. The larks of Dunstable and Leipsic are, I presume, -“caught napping.” They are not, then, like the nightingale, who is said -to sing all night, to keep herself awake, lest the slow-worm should -devour her. - -And this reminds me of a remark which I once heard made by one who -disputed the fact, that every thing had its use. Mr. Jerdan could -not conjecture what use there could be in the _cimex_, that domestic -“B flat,” which may be found in old beds and old parchments. So -my friend could not divine the utility of a slow-worm, or of that -unclean parasite, the “louse,” which, by the way, infects birds as -well as dirty humanity, and even reaches these same aspiring larks. -For the use of the slow-worm I referred him to natural history; for -that of the _pediculus_, I could only state that it is swallowed by -some country-people as a cure for jaundice! At Hardenberg, in Sweden, -it held a position of some importance. When a Burgomaster had to be -chosen, the eligible candidates sat with their beards upon the table, -in the centre of which was placed a louse; and the one in whose beard -he took cover was the Magistrate for the ensuing year. After the -ceremony, the company supped upon ducks, and sang like larks. - -The household of Job was of a hospitable cast. “His sons went and -feasted in their houses, every one on his day;” (which is explained as -being the _birth_-day;) “and sent and called for their three sisters -to eat and drink with them.” We know what materials the joyous family -had to make a superb feast; and doubtless he who presided thereat was -as proud as the Knight who, by virtue of triumphing in the tournament, -alone had the right to carve the peacock which was placed before -him--plumage, tail, and all--by the fairest “she” to be found in the -vicinity. After all, the peacock was inferior to the succulent and -sweet-throated thrush. The proper time for eating thrushes, and, -indeed, much other of the small game of the bird species, is towards -the end of November. The reason assigned by a French epicure is, -that, after they have been fattened in the fields and vineyards, -they then give a biting, bitter aroma to their flesh by feeding on -juniper-berries. The Romans fed them on a paste made up of figs, wheat, -and aromatic grains. The Roman epicures were as fond of them as the -Marquis de Cussy was of red partridges, one of which he ate on the -day of his death, and after a six months’ illness. It was his last -act; and, in gastronomic annals, it is recorded, as Nelson’s calling -for sealing-wax amid the thunders of Copenhagen, or his writing to -Horatia before he went to meet death at Trafalgar, is noticed by the -biographers of our naval heroes. Statistics, which are as pleasantly -void of truth as poetry, generally speaking, set down the enormous -total of nearly fifty-two millions of francs as the sum expended -yearly in France for fowls of all species. Taking the amount of -population into consideration, this would prove that France is a more -fowl-consuming nation than any other on the face of the globe. - -In a dietetic point of view, it would be well for weak stomachs to -remember, that wild birds are more nutritious than their domesticated -cousins, and more digestible. But the white breast or wing of a chicken -is less heating than the flesh of winged game. Other game--such as -venison, which is dark-coloured, and contains a large proportion of -fibrine--produces highly stimulating chyle; and, consequently, the -digestion is an easy and rapid affair for the stomach. But, though -the whiter meats be detained longer in the stomach, furnish less -stimulating chyle, and be suffered to run into acetous fermentation, -their lesser stimulating quality may recommend them when the general -system is not in want of a spur. Meats are wholesome, or otherwise, -less with reference to themselves than to the consumer. “To assert -a thing to be wholesome,” says Van Swieten, “without a knowledge of -the condition of the person for whom it is intended, is like a sailor -pronouncing the wind to be fair, without knowing to what port the -vessel is bound.” - -Cardinal Fesch would have made an exception in the case of -“blackbirds.” His dinners at Lyons were reverenced for the excellence -and variety of these dishes. The birds were sent to him weekly from -Corsica; and they were said to incense half the archiepiscopal city. -They were served with great form; and none who ate thereof ever forgot -the flavour which melted along his palate. The Cardinal used to say -that it was like swallowing paradise, and that the smell alone of his -blackbirds was enough to revivify half the defunct in his diocese. - -Quite as rich a dish may be found in the pheasant which has been -suspended by the tail, and which detaches himself from his caudine -appendage, by way of intimation that he is ready. It is thus, we are -told, that a pheasant hung up on Shrove Tuesday is susceptible of being -spitted on Easter-day! It is popularly said in France of the pheasant, -that it only lacks something to be equal to the turkey! A wise saying, -indeed! but, the truth is, the two cannot be compared. Our own popular -adage regarding the partridge and woodcock has far better grounds for -what they assert:-- - - “If the partridge had but the woodcock’s thigh, - ’Twould be the best bird that ever did fly. - If the woodcock had but the partridge’s breast, - ’Twould be the best bird that ever was dress’d.” - -The partridge is much on the ground, the woodcock ever on the wing; and -these parts, and the immediate vicinity of them, acquire a muscular -toughness, not admired by epicures. - -The vegetarians may boast of a descent as ancient as that claimed -by the Freemasons. In ancient days, if, indeed, flesh-meat was not -denounced, unmeasured honour was paid to vegetables. Monarchs exchanged -them as gifts, wise men and warriors supped on them after study -and battle, Chiefs of the noblest descent prepared them with their -own hands for their own tables, agricultural chymists tended their -planting, and pious populations raised some of them to the rank of gods. - -The Licinian Law enacted their use, while it restricted the consumption -of meat; and the greatest families in Rome derived their names from -them. Fabius was but General _Bean_, Cicero was Vice-Chancellor _Pea_, -and the house of Lentulus took its appellation from the slow-growing -_Lentil_. - -The kitchen-garden of Henry VIII. was worse supplied than that of -Charlemagne, who not only raised vegetables, but, as Gustavus Vasa’s -Queen did with her eggs and milk, made money by them. He was a royal -market-gardener, and found more profit in his salads than he did in -his sons. A salad, by the way, was so scarce an article during the -early part of the last century, that George I. was obliged to send to -Holland to procure a lettuce for his Queen; and now lettuces are flung -by cart-loads to the pigs. Asparagus and artichokes were strangers to -us until a still later period. - -The bean has, from remote times, held a distinguished place. Isidorus -asserts that it was the first food used by man. Pythagoras held that -human life was in it. By others the black spot was accounted typical -of death; and the _Flamen_ of Jupiter would neither look upon it nor -pronounce its name. The Priests of Apollo, on the other hand, banqueted -on a dish of beans at one of the festivals of their god. Those of -Æsculapius taught that the smell of beans in blossom was prejudicial -to health; and farmers’ wives, in the days of Baucis and Philemon, -maintained that hens reared on beans would never lay eggs. - -The “bean” was once the principal feature in the Twelfth-Night cake; -and he to whose share fell the piece containing the vegetable was -King for the night. The last Twelfth Night observed, with ancient -strictness, at the Tuileries, was when Louis XVIII. was yet reigning. -Among his guests was Louis Philippe, Duke of Orleans, who was lucky -enough to draw the bean, and thereby became Monarch for the nonce. “My -cousin,” said Louis XVIII., “is King at last!” “I will never accept -such title,” answered the over-modest Duke; “I acknowledge no other -King in France but your Majesty, and will not usurp the name even in -jest!” Excellent man! he was at that very moment intriguing to tumble -from his throne that very King, loyalty for whom he expressed with so -much of unnecessary and enforced ceremony. - -The _haricot blanc_, or white kidney bean, deserves to be introduced -more generally into our kitchens. There are various methods of -dressing them; but the best is to have them softened in the gravy of -a leg of mutton; they are then a good substitute for potatoes. They -are nearly as good, dressed with oil or butter; and Napoleon was -exceedingly fond of them, dressed as a salad. Of course, we allude here -to the bean which, in full maturity, is taken from the pod, and eaten -in winter. In England we eat the pod itself, (in summer,) split, and -served with roast mutton and venison. The mature bean, however, makes -an excellent dish. - -And, _à-propos_ to Monarchs, it is to Alexander that we are indebted -for the Indian “haricot;” and the vegetable had a fashion in Greece -and Rome worthy of its distinguished introducer. But this fashion was -not a mere consequence; for grey peas were as universally eaten. The -people were so fond of these, that political aspirants bought votes of -electors in exchange for them. They formed the principal refreshment of -the lower citizens at the circus and the theatre, where, instead of the -modern cry of “Oranges, biscuits, porter, and bill of the play!” was to -be heard that of “Peas! peas! ram peas! grey peas! and a programme of -the beasts and actors!” - -Green peas were not known in France until the middle of the sixteenth -century. They were grown, but people no more thought of eating them -than we do the sweet pea. The gardener Michaux was born, and he it was -who first sent green peas to a Christian table. - -When Alexander, son of Pyrrhus, wished to keep all the beans that grew -in the Thesprotian Marsh for his own eating, the gods dried up the -marsh, and beans could never be made to grow there again. So, when King -Antigonus put a tax on the healing spring that flowed at Edessa, the -waters disappeared; and the people were not, in either case, benefited. -What lumbering avengers were those heathen deities! - -The cabbage has had a singular destiny,--in one country an object of -worship; in another, of contempt. The Egyptians made of it a god; and -it was the first dish they touched at their repasts. The Greeks and -Romans took it as a remedy for the languor following inebriation. -Cato said that in the cabbage was a panacea for the ills of man. -Erasistratus recommended it as a specific in paralysis; Hippocrates -accounted it a sovereign remedy, boiled with salt, for the colic; and -Athenian medical men prescribed it to young nursing-mothers, who wished -to see lusty babies lying in their arms. Diphilus preferred the beet to -the cabbage, both as food and as medicine,--in the latter case, as a -vermifuge. The same physician extols mallows, not for fomentation, but -as a good edible vegetable, appeasing hunger and curing the sore-throat -at the same time. The asparagus, as we are accustomed to see it, has -derogated from its ancient magnificence. The original “grass” was from -twelve to twenty feet high; and a dish of them could only have been -served to the Brobdignagians. Under the Romans, stems of asparagus -were raised of three pounds’ weight,--heavy enough to knock down a -slave in waiting with. The Greeks ate them of more moderate dimensions, -or would have eat them, but that the publishing doctors of their day -denounced asparagus as injurious to the sight. But then it was also -said, that a slice or two of boiled pumpkin would re-invigorate the -sight which had been deteriorated by asparagus. “Do that as quickly as -you should asparagus!” is a proverb descended to us from Augustus, and -illustrative of the mode in which the vegetable was prepared for the -table. - -The gourd does not figure at our repasts as commonly as it did in -the east of Europe in mythological times, when it was greedily -eaten, boiled hot, or preserved in pickle. The readers of Athenæus -will remember, how a party of philosophers lost their temper, in a -discussion as to whether the gourd was round, square, or oblong,--how a -coarse-minded doctor interrupted the discussion by a very incongruous -remark,--and how the venerable sage who was in the chair called the -rude man to order, and then bade the disputants proceed with their -argument. - -A still more favourite dish, at Athens, was turnips, from Thebes. -Carrots, too, formed a distinguished dish at Greek and Roman tables. -Purslain was rather honoured as a cure against poisons, whether in -the blood by wounds, or in the stomach from beverage. I have heard it -asserted in France, that if you briskly rub a glass with fingers which -have been previously rubbed with purslain, or parsley, the glass will -certainly break. I have tried the experiment, but only to find that the -glass resisted the pretended charm. - -Broccoli was the favourite vegetable food of Drusus. He ate greedily -thereof; and, as his father, Tiberius, was as fond of it as he, the -master of the Roman world and his illustrious heir were constantly -quarrelling, like two clowns, when a dish of broccoli stood between -them. Artichokes grew less rapidly into aristocratic favour; the -_dictum_ of Galen was against them; and, for a long time, they were -only used by drinkers, against headache, and by singers, to strengthen -their voice. Pliny pronounced artichokes excellent food for poor people -and donkeys! For nobler stomachs he preferred the cucumber,--the -Nemesis of vegetables. But people were at issue touching the merits of -the cucumber. Not so, regarding the lettuce, which has been universally -honoured. It was the most highly esteemed dish of the beautiful -Adonis. It was prescribed as provocative to sleep; and it cured -Augustus of the malady which sits so heavily on the soul of Leopold of -Belgium,--_hypochondriasis_. Science and rank eulogized the lettuce, -and philosophy sanctioned the eulogy in the person of Aristoxenus, who -not only grew lettuces as the pride of his garden, but irrigated them -with wine, in order to increase their flavour. - -But we must not place too much trust in the stories either of sages or -apothecaries. These Pagans recommended the seductive, but indigestible, -endive, as good against the headache, and young onions and honey as -admirable preservers of health, when taken fasting; but this was a -prescription for rustic swains and nymphs,--the higher classes, in -town or country, would hardly venture on it. And yet the mother of -Apollo ate raw leeks, and loved them of gigantic dimensions. For this -reason, perhaps, was the leek accounted, not only as salubrious, but -as a beautifier. The love for melons was derived, in similar fashion, -probably, from Tiberius, who cared for them even more than he did -for broccoli. The German Cæsars inherited the taste of their Roman -predecessor, carrying it, indeed, to excess; for more than one of them, -as may be seen in another page, submitted to die after eating melons, -rather than live by renouncing them. - -I have spoken of gigantic asparagus: the Jews had radishes that could -vie with them, if it be true that a fox and cubs could burrow in the -hollow of one, and that it was not uncommon to grow them of a hundred -pounds in weight. It must have been such radishes as these that were -employed by seditious mobs of old, as weapons, in insurrections. In -such case, a rebellious people were always well victualled, and had -peculiar facilities, not only to beat their adversaries, but to eat -their own arms. The horse-radish is, probably, a descendant of this -gigantic ancestor. It had, at one period, a gigantic reputation. Dipped -in poison, it rendered the draught innocuous, and, rubbed on the hands, -it made an encounter with venomed serpents mere play. In short, it was -celebrated as being a cure for every evil in life,--the only exception -being, that it destroyed the teeth. There was far more difference -of opinion touching garlic, than there was touching the radish. The -Egyptians deified it, as they did the leek and the cabbage; the Greeks -devoted it to Gehenna,--and to soldiers, sailors, and cocks that were -not “game.” Medicinally, it was held to be useful in many diseases, if -the root used were originally sown when the moon was below the horizon. -No one who had eaten of it, however, could presume to enter the Temple -of Cybele. Alphonso of Castile was as particular as this goddess; and -a Knight of Castile, “detected as being guilty of garlic,” suffered -banishment from the royal presence during an entire month. - -Parsley has fared better, both with gods and men. Hercules and Anacreon -crowned themselves with it. It was worn both at joyous banquets and -funeral feasts; and not only horses, but those who bestrode them, ate -of the herb, in order to find the excitement to daring which otherwise -lacked. In contrast with parsley stood the water-cress, a plant -honoured and eaten only by the Persians. It was, indeed, medically -esteemed as curative of consumption, and, by placing it in the ears, -of toothache. But the wits and Plutarch denounced its use in any case; -and few cared to affect love for a plant which was popularly declared -to have the power of twisting the noses of those who put it into their -mouths! - -Parsley was as popular in what may be called “classical” times, as the -asparagus has invariably been with a particular class in France. This -vegetable has ever been, I know not wherefore, a favourite vegetable -with the officials of the Gallican Church. One day, Monseigneur -Courtois de Quincy, Bishop of Belley, was informed that an asparagus -head had just pierced the soil in His Eminence’s kitchen-garden, and -that it was worth looking at. Cardinal and _convives_ rose from table, -visited the spot, and were lost in admiration at what they saw. Day by -day the Bishop watched the growth of the delicious giant. His mouth -watered as he looked at it, and happy was he when the day arrived in -which he might with his own hands take it from the ground. When he did -so, he found, to his disappointment, that he held a wooden counterfeit, -admirably turned and painted by the Canon Rosset, who was famous for -his artistic abilities, and also for his practical jokes. The joke on -this occasion was taken in good part, and the counterfeit asparagus was -admitted to the honour of lying on the Bishop’s table. - -I have noticed, that asparagus has been suggested as one of the -substitutes for coffee. In this case, the seeds are taken from the -berries, by drying the latter in an oven, and rubbing them on a sieve. -When ground, the seeds make a full-flavoured coffee, not inferior, it -is said,--but that is doubtful,--to the best Mocha. - -It was the opinion of Pliny, that nature intended asparagus to grow -wild, in order that all might eat thereof. That was esteemed the -best which grew naturally on the mountain-sides. The famous Ravenna -asparagus was cultivated with such perfection, that three of them -weighed a pound. Lobster surrounded with asparagus was a favourite -dish; and the rapidity with which the latter should be cooked, is -illustrated, as I have said, by a proverb: “_Velocius quam asparagi -coquuntur!_” There is a story told of an intrusive traveller forcing -his company at supper on another wayfarer, before whom were placed -an omelette and some asparagus. The intruder had not before seen any -“grass,” and inquired what it was. “O, it is very well in its way,” -said the other, “and we will divide both omelette and asparagus;” and -therewith, after carving the first, he cut the bunch in two, and gave -the white ends to the importunate visitor. The greatest indignation -ever experienced by Carême, was once at hearing that some guests had -eaten asparagus with one of his new _entremets_, and mixed it in their -mouths with iced champagne. - -There is an opinion current in some parts of England, that they who eat -of old parsnips that have been long in the ground invariably go mad; -and on this account the root is called “mad-nip.” On some such “insane -root,” it is said, the Indians, named by Garcilasso, whetted their -appetites before they ate their dead parents. Such form of entombment -was accounted most dignified and dutiful. If the defunct was lean, -the children boiled their parent; but obesity was always honoured by -roasting. Fathers and mothers were religiously picked to the very -bones, and the bones themselves were then consigned to the earth. This, -however, is not an exclusively Indian custom. The Indians only devoured -their deceased parents; but I have seen, in Christian England, many a -son devouring father and mother, too, during their lives, swallowing -their very substance, and _then_, like the Indians, committing their -bones to the bosom of a tender mother,--earth. - -Perhaps there is nothing, in the vegetable way, more insipid than -parsnips; but these are sometimes as mischievous as insipid persons. -This is the case, if the above-named tradition be worthy of credit, -wherein we are told, that _old_ parsnips are called “mad-nips,” and -that the maids who eat of them invariably become more like Salmacis -than the youth she wooed, and are as much given to dancing as though -they had been bitten by a tarantula. I fear the “mad-nip” is too much -eaten in many of our rural districts, and perhaps by the _acerba virgo_ -of metropolitan towns and episcopal cities also. But let us look at our -ancient friend, the potato. - -It has been well said, that the first art in boiling a potato, is to -prevent the boiling of the potato. “Upon the heat and flame of the -distemper sprinkle cool patience;” for without patience, care, and -attention,--extreme vigilance being implied by the latter, a potato -will never come out of the pot triumphantly well boiled. - -The potato has been found in an indigenous state in Chili, on the -mountains near Valparaiso and Mendoza; also near Monte Video, Lima, -Quito, in Santa Fé da Bogota, and on the banks of the Orizaba, in -Mexico. Cobbett cursed the root as being that of the ruin of Ireland, -where it is said to have been first planted by Raleigh, on his estate -at Youghal, near Cork. Its introduction into England is described as -the effect of accident, in consequence of the wrecking of a vessel on -the coast of Lancashire, which had a quantity of this “fruit” on board. - -The common potato (_solanum tuberosum_) was probably first brought -to Spain from Quito by the Spaniards, in the early part of the -sixteenth century. In both of those countries the _tubers_ are known -by the designation of _papas_. In passing from Spain into Italy, -it naturalized itself under the name of “the truffle.” In 1598, we -hear of its arrival at Vienna, and thence spreading over Europe. -It certainly was not known in North America in 1586, the period at -which Raleigh’s colonists in Virginia are said to have sent it to -England; and in the latter country it was not known until long after -its introduction, as noticed above, into Ireland. In Gerard’s Herbal -(1597) the _Batata Virginiana_, as it is called, to distinguish it -from the _Batata Edulis_, or “sweet potato,” is described; and the -author recommends the root, not for common food, but as “a delicate -dish.” The sweet potato was the “delicate dish” at English tables long -before the introduction of its honest cousin. We imported it from Spain -and the Canaries, and in very considerable quantities. It enjoyed -the reputation of possessing power to restore decayed vigour. This -reputation has not escaped Shakspeare, who makes Falstaff exultingly -remark, in a fit of pleasant excitement, that “it rains potatoes!” The -Royal Society of England, in 1663, urgently recommended the extensive -cultivation of the root as a resource against threatened famine; but as -late as the end of that century, a good hundred years after its first -introduction, the writers on gardening continued to treat its merits -with a contemptuous indifference; though one of them does “damn with -faint praise,” by remarking, that “they are much used in Ireland and -America as bread, and may be propagated with advantage to poor people.” -As late as 1719, the potato was not deemed worthy of being named in the -“Complete Gardener” of Loudon and Wise, and it was not till the middle -of the last century that it became generally used in Britain and North -America. The “conservatives of gulosity” of that day continued long to -disparagingly describe it as “a root found in the New World, consisting -of little knobs, held together by strings: if you boil it well, it -_can_ be eaten; it _may_ become an article of food; it will certainly -do for hogs; and though it is rather flatulent and acid in the human -stomach, perhaps, if you boil it with dates, it may serve to keep soul -and body together, among those who can find nothing better.” - -Some sixty years since, the Dutch introduced the potato into Bengal. -The produce was sold in Calcutta at 5_s._ a pound. The English tried -to raise them, and all their plants grew like Jack’s bean-stalk, but -lacked its strength. The Hollanders continually cut the swiftly-growing -plant, and so compelled it to produce its fruit beneath the ground. -The secret was as well worth knowing as that other touching potatoes -during frost. The only precaution necessary is, to retain the potato -in a perfectly dark place, for some days after the thaw has commenced. -In America, where they are sometimes frozen as hard as stones, they -rot if thawed in open day; but if thawed in darkness, they do not -rot, and lose very little of their natural odour and properties. So, -at least, they assert, who profess to have means of best knowing. The -potato is said to have been first planted, in England, in the county -of Lancashire, which was once as famous for the plant as Lithuania -is for beet-root. It is not much more than a century since cabbages -reached us from Holland. They were first planted in Dorsetshire, by the -Ashleys; and I may add here what I have omitted in speaking of it in -earlier times, namely, that the Athenians administered the juice of it -in cases of slow parturition. Let me farther add, that such terms as -“cow-cabbage,” “horse-radish,” “bull-rush,” and the like, do not imply -any connexion between the article and the animal. The animal prefix is -simply to signify unusual size. The prefix was commonly so applied by -the ancients: hence the name of Alexander’s charger; and a not less -familiar illustration is afforded us in the case of the “horse-leech.” -Cabbage used to have said of it what Lemery, physician of Louis XIV., -more truly said of spinach; namely, that “it stops coughing, allays -the sharp humours of the breast, and keeps the body open.” Spinach, -to be truly enjoyed, should never be eaten without liberal saturation -of gravy; and French epicures say, “Do not forget the nutmeg.” This -vegetable goes excellently with swine’s flesh in every shape, but -especially ham, the stimulating flavour of which it strongly modifies. - -Rice, as an article of food, has something remarkable in it. Its -cultivation destroys life; and when the grain is eaten, its value as -a supporter of strength is very uncertain. The cultivation of this -production, where it does not destroy life, does destroy comfort, and -slaves may be compelled, but freemen will not go voluntarily, to raise -the “paddy crop.” In India, where the people of many districts depend -upon it entirely as a chief article of food, famine is often the -result, simply because the failure of one crop leaves the unenergetic -people without any other present resource. - -And now, by way of a concluding word to those who read medicinally, I -would say, on the best authority, first, that of the haricot-bean I -have nothing to add to what I have already stated. With regard to peas, -they are, like many other things, most pleasant and wholesome when -young. Old, they are the fathers of gaseous colic; and, when swallowed -with the additional tenacity of texture derived from being made into -pudding,--why, then the unhappy consumer is a man to be pitied. -Potatoes are best baked, or roasted lightly. In the latter case, they -are scarcely less nutritious than bread; but the potato must be in -full health, and the cooking unexceptionable. There is many a cook -who could execute, to a charm, the _fricandeau_, invented by Leo X., -who has not the remotest idea of cooking a potato. When the Flemings -sent us the carrot, in the reign of Elizabeth, it is a pity they could -not have deprived it of its fibrine texture, the drawback to be set -against its saccharine nutritiveness. As the Romans waxed strong upon -the turnip, we may allow that it has some virtues, and that Charles the -First’s Secretary, Lord Townshend, did good service by re-introducing -it to his countrymen. Like the Jerusalem artichoke, it requires a -strong accompaniment of salt and pepper, to counteract its watery and -flatulent influences. As for radishes, he who eats them is tormenting -his stomach with bad water, woody fibre, and acrid poison; and if his -stomach resents such treatment, why, it most emphatically “serves him -right.” As for cucumber, in the days of Evelyn, it was looked upon as -only one remove from poison, and it had better be eaten and enjoyed -with that opinion in memory. It is a pity that what is pleasant is -not always what is proper. Thus the cucumber is attractive, but not -nutritive; while the onion, at whose very name every man stands with -his hand to his mouth, like a Persian in the act of _ad-oration_, -is exceedingly nourishing and wholesome. But I can never think of -it, without remembering the story of the man who, having breakfasted -early on bread and onions, entered an inn on a bitterly cold morning, -with the remark, that for the last two hours he had had the wind in -his teeth. “Had you?” said the unfortunate person who happened to be -nearest to him: “then, by Jove, the wind had the worst of it!” - -An onion is all very well as an ingredient in a sauce, but to make -a meal of it! Well! it is on record that a dinner _has_ been made, -at which nothing was served but sauces. A dinner of sauces must have -been quickly prepared; but, for quick preparation, I know nothing that -can vie with a feat accomplished, on the 18th of March of the present -year, at the Freemasons’ Tavern. The “Round-Catch-and-Canon Club” were -to dine there at half-past five P.M. An hour previously, the active -Secretary, Mr. Francis, Vicar-Choral of St. Paul’s, arrived, to see -that “all was right.” He found all wrong. Through some mistake, no -company was expected; and, there being no other dinners ordered for -that day, the weary proprietors, and their chief “aids,” were enjoying -a little relaxation. Not only were the high priestesses of the kitchen -“out,” but the sacred fires of the altars had followed their example. -Great was the horror of the able counter-tenor Secretary; but the -difficulty was triumphantly met by the accomplished officers of the -establishment; and, at six o’clock precisely, forty-two of us sat -down to so perfect a banquet, that the shade of Carême might have -contemplated it with a smile of unalloyed satisfaction. This house may -boast of this _tour de force_ for ever! - - - - -SAUCES. - - -The donor of the sauce dinner, mentioned in the last page, was an -eccentric old Major. He invited three persons to partake of this unique -repast. The soup consisted of gravy sauce, and oyster and lobster -sauce were handed round instead of _filet de sole_. Then came the -sirloin in guise of egg sauce, on the ground, I suppose, that an egg -is proverbially “full of meat.” There was no pheasant, but there was -bread sauce, to put his guests in mind of the flavour; and if they had -not plum-pudding, they had as much towards it as could be implied by -brandy sauce; just as Heyne says, that Munich is the modern Athens in -this far,--that if it has not the philosophers, it has the hemlock, -and has Alcibiades’ dog, as a preparation towards getting Alcibiades. -The sauce-boats were emptied by the guests. The wine was well-resorted -to after each boat, and a little brandy settled the viand that was -represented by the egg sauce. Half the guests, between excess of -lobster sauce and Cognac, were all the worse for the banquet; but that -proved rather the weakness of their stomachs, than the non-excellence -of the feast. It is said that the Major, when alone in the evening, -wound up with a rump-steak supper,--a process rather characteristic of -the “old soldier;” but I have heard, in a provincial town, of large -parties to “tea,” followed by a snug family party, when the guests were -all departed, to a hot supper, with the usual _et cæteras_. But let -_us_ get back from the supper to the matter of seasonings. - -Seasonings may be said to form an important item in the practice and -results of cookery. The first, and most useful and natural, is salt. -The ancients did not allow, at one time, of its use in sacrifices; but -Homer called it “divine,” and Plutarch speaks of it as acceptable to -the gods. Its value was not known to men until the Phœnicians, Selech -and Misor,--so, at least, says an ancient legend,--taught mankind the -real worth of this production as a condiment, and thereby gave to -meat increased flavour, and to the eaters of it increased health and -improved digestions. - -The Roman soldiers received their pay in _salarium_, or “salt-money.” -The Mexican rulers punished rebellious provinces by interdicting the -use of salt; and Holland, some years since, cruelly took vengeance -on the breakers of the law, by serving them with food, without salt, -during the term of their imprisonment. The poor wretches were almost -devoured by worms, in consequence of this inhuman proceeding. - -Of course, the salt-money of the soldiery was, like the pin-money of -a married lady, employed in other ways than those warranted by its -appellation. For above three centuries, soldiers served _gratis_, and -supported themselves. Then came “salt-money,” or _salarium_, in the -shape of a couple of _oboli_ daily to the foot, and a _drachma_ to -the cavalry. This was to the common men. The Tribunes were, however, -exorbitantly paid, if Juvenal’s allusion may be trusted, wherein he -says that,-- - - ----“_alter enim, quantum in legione Tribuni - Accipiunt, donat Calvinæ vel Catienæ_;” - -or, as it may be translated,-- - - “Such sums as a full Colonel’s coffers swell, - He flings to Lola, or to Laura Bell!” - -But this must have been in very late times, previous to which -frugality, modesty, and indifferent pay were ever the Tribune’s share -of the national virtues and their consequences, lauded by Livy. The -first Cæsar doubled the _salarium_ of the army, and decreed that -it should never be reduced. His successors followed the example of -increase. Augustus fixed the salt-money at ten _asses_ a day, and by -the time of Domitian it was considerably more than double that amount. -From that period, the soldiery fed better, and fought worse, than ever. -Up to the time of the Empire they had been frugal livers, and were not -above preparing the rations of corn allowed them with their own hands: -some ground it in hand-mills, others pounded it between stones, and the -hastily-baked cakes were eaten contentedly upon the turf, with nothing -better to wash them down than pure water, or, at best, _posca_, which -was water mixed with vinegar,--and a very wholesome beverage, too, in -hot weather. - -The Jewish dispensation, unlike that of the early Olympian theology, -enforced the use of salt in all sacrificial ceremonies. That of the -Dead Sea was abundant; and Galen pronounced it as the most favourable -for seasoning, and for promoting digestion. The Greeks learned to call -it “divine,” and at last consecrated it to their gods. Spilling salt -was accounted as unlucky in the days when “young Time counted his -birthdays by the sun,” as in these modern times when the schoolmaster -is abroad,--sometimes too much abroad. - -Ancus Martius was the first of the Roman Kings who levied a duty on -salt. He was not visited by the gods--as legends say other Kings were -who created such imposts--by some dire calamity. The bad example of -Ancus Martius has continued over nearly the whole of Europe; and a -slave cannot eat salt to his bread without paying tribute to the King. - -The word “salt” was often used for life itself. When Dordalus says -to Toxilus, in the “_Persa_,” “_Eodem mihi pretio sal præhibetur quæ -tibi_,”--“I get my salt at the same price as you do,”--he simply -means that his manner of life is as good as that of Toxilus, and that -a slave-merchant is as respectable as the very best-fed of slaves -themselves. Catullus employs the word to denote beauty; other poets -use it to signify virtues of various kinds; and in Terence we find a -man without salt to mean a man without sense. Plutarch was not wrong -when he styled salt “the condiment of condiments.” I do not know that -it has ever been used to point a proverb with a contemptuous meaning, -except in Greece, where he who had nothing to dine upon was called -a “salt-licker.” Rome, where it was of such commercial importance, -honoured it more by giving to the road along which it was conveyed the -name of “the Salarian Way.” - -There were people who never knew its use, as in Epeiros; some who have -steadily rejected it, as the Bathurst tribe in Australia. The Peruvians -delighted in it, and ate it mixed with hot pepper and bitter herbs, as -a sort of “sweetmeat.” How sacred it is in Arabia, we all know; and, -in illustration of it, I have heard of an Arab burglar accidentally -letting his tongue come in contact, as he was plundering a house by -night, with a piece of salt. He instantly deemed he had partaken of the -owner’s hospitality, and he departed without booty. Could Christian -thieves be so influenced, we should salt our plate-baskets and -cash-boxes nightly! - -In Sicily a salt is spoken of that melts only in fire, and hardens in -water. At Utica, one of the great salt suppliers of the ancient world, -it lay about in such huge mounds, hardened by the sun and moon, that -the pickaxe would scarcely penetrate it. In Arabia whole cities were -once built of it, the blocks of salt being cemented by water. It is -still procured with most difficulty in Abyssinia, where the clouds are -supposed to deposit the crystal in sandy plains, of heat so furious, -that it is only during one or two hours of the night that the seekers -of it dare dash into the locality, and carry off, as hastily as -possible, what they seek. It is procured far more pleasantly in those -parts of Chili where it is found deposited on the leaves of plants. -Off the warmer coasts of South America, and the still hotter shores of -Africa, blocks weighing from one to two hundred weight have been picked -up. Some writers tell us that lakes are nothing more than salt plains -in solution; and others, that salt plains are merely lakes congealed. -However this may be, it is known that generally four gallons of water -produce one of salt; but there is great difference of result in various -localities, some water yielding a sixth, other only a sixteenth. The -deep sea-water is the most highly productive. There are various strange -ingredients, too, used in different places to make the salt “grain” -properly. White of egg, butter, ale, and even blood, are employed -to produce the desired result. In its fossil or mineral state it is -nowhere seen to such great advantage as in the mines of Williska, in -Poland. I have seen those near Salzburg, in southern Austria; but these -are mere salt-cellars, compared with the Polish mine, which forms a -large subterranean city, has its streets, citizens, and coteries, and -is an underground republic, many of the natives of which die without -seeing a blade of grass, or a gleam of sunlight, upon the bosom of the -upper earth. - -Finally, salt is the most natural stimulant for the digestive organs; -but it should be remembered that too much of it is _almost_ as bad -as too little. The lowering of the price of salt, a consequence of -the abolition of the duty, was beneficial to the poor, and ruinous to -the worm-doctors. It is a singular production. In small quantities it -is a stimulating manure; in large quantities it begets sterility. A -little of it accelerates putrefaction, while a large quantity prevents -it. Farther, it is to be remembered,--and I have mentioned the fact -in another page,--that the salt in salted meat is not (whatever it -may once have been) the table salt, the use of which is so favourable -to digestion. In the meat it undergoes a chymical change, by which -it deteriorates itself as well as the object to which it is applied. -“Sweet salt” was the name once given to sugar; and in reference to this -latter production, it may be safely averred, that its introduction -worked a considerable change in society. And it appears to have been -early added to that “significant luxury,” wheat. In Isaiah xliii. 24 -there is an allusion made to it in these words: “Thou hast bought me -no sweet cane with money, neither hast thou filled me with the fat of -sacrifices.” And again, in Jeremiah vi. 20: “To what purpose cometh -there to me incense from Sheba, and sweet cane from a far country?” It -would seem, however, that though the sweet cane may have been known, -its uses were not very speedily appreciated, or, if they were, that -they were for a long time forgotten. Thus, as late as the thirteenth -century of our era, a writer speaks of a novel sort of salt that has -been discovered, the flavour of which was sweet, and, as he suggests, -might be found acceptable to sick persons, because of its soothing and -cooling properties. “Honey out of the rock,” which was the sweetener -most early noticed in Scripture, fell into comparative disuse, after -sugar had become a necessary of life, after being first a medicine, -and then a luxury. The Spaniards received it from the Arabs, and -familiarized it in Europe. Its first settlement beyond the Continent -was in Madeira, and at length it found a congenial soil in the islands -of the Western Indies. God gave the gift, but man has discovered how -to abuse it to his own destruction; and, from the sweet food offered -by an angel, he has distilled the fire-water, which slays like the -pestilence. But to return, for a moment, from the sweets to the salts, -and especially to the latter in the form of brine. - -The Romans were fond of brine,--water in which bay-salt had been -dissolved,--as a seasoning; and after dinner, those who could not guess -the riddles that were put to them, were punished, like the refractory -gentlemen at the Nightingale Club, by being compelled to swallow a -cupful, without drawing breath. Apicius invented a composition made up -of salt, pepper, ginger, thyme, celery, rocket, and anise-seed, with -lamoni, wild marjoram, holy thistle, spikenard, parsley, and hyssop, as -a specific to be taken, after heavy dinners, against indigestion. They -who could digest the remedy need not have been afraid of the dinner. - -That universal seasoning of the classical world, the _garum_, was -originally a shrimp sauce; but it was subsequently made of the -intestines of almost any fish, macerated in water, saturated with salt; -and when symptoms of putrefaction began to appear, a little parsley -and vinegar were added; and there was the famous _garum_, of which -the inventors were so proud,--and particularly of a _garum_ which was -prepared in Spain. Flesh instead of fish was occasionally used, with no -difference in the process of preparation; and it would be difficult to -say which was the nastier. But, perhaps, if we could see the witchery -of preparing any of our own flavouring sauces, we should be reluctant -ever to allow a drop of the polluted mixture to pass our lips. There -_is_ a bliss in ignorance. - -Pythagoras showed better taste in the science of seasonings, when he -took to eating nothing but honey wherewith to flavour his bread. -Hybla sounds sweet, the very word smells sweet, from its association -with honey. Aristæus, who is said to have discovered its use, merited -the patent of nobility, whereby he was declared to have descended -from the gods; and the placing the honeycomb and its makers under the -protection of Mellona, expressly made by men for this purpose, was a -proof of the value in which they were held. Theophrastus placed sugar -among the honeys,--the honey of reeds,--or the “salt of India,” as some -strangely called it. The Greek physicians recommended its use, both as -food and as flavourer. It was at one time as scarce as cinnamon,--that -precious bark of which the phœnix made its nest, and which the Cæsars -monopolized. Cinnamon and cloves were not employed in seasoning until a -comparatively modern period. The good people of earlier days preferred -verjuice, in certain cases prescribed by Galen. They seemed to have a -taste for acids: hence the admiration, both in Greece and Rome, for -vinegar and pickles. Vinegar figured in the army statistics of Rome -especially; but it once, at least, figured in a still more remarkable -way in the statistics of the French army, in the time of Louis XIII., -when the Duc de la Meilleraye, Grand Master of the Artillery of France, -put down £52,000 as the sum expended by him in cooling cannons. How hot -the war must have been, and at what a price the fever must have been -maintained, when the merely refrigerating process cost so much! - -French epicures maintain that the pig was born to be “ringed,” and that -his mission was to rout at the foot of the yoke-elm trees, and turn up -truffles! Pliny gravely looked upon the truffle as a prodigy sown by -the thunderbolt in autumnal storms. However this may be, all lovers of -good things eat the truffle with a sort of devout ecstasy, in spite -of the wide differences of opinion which exist among the faculty of -guessers, as to whether the truffle be nutritious or poisonous, fit for -food, or monster sire of indigestion. The fact is, that they should be -delicately dealt with, like mushrooms; of which he who eats little is -wise, and he who eats not of them at all is safe from blaming them for -bringing on indigestion--as far as _he_ is concerned. - -The truffle is thus elaborately, yet not verbosely, described by -Archimagirus Soyer: “The truffle is a very remarkable vegetable, -which, without stems, roots, or fibres, grows of itself, isolated in -the bosom of the earth, absorbing the nutritive juice. Its form is -round, more or less regular; its surface is smooth, or tuberculous; -the colour, dark brown outside, brown, grey, or white within. Its -tissue is formed of articulated filaments, between which are spheric -vesicles, and in the interior are placed reproductive bodies, small -brown spheres, called ‘_truffinelles_.’ Truffles vegetate to the depth -of five or six inches in the high sandy soils of the south-west of -France, Piedmont, &c. Their mode of vegetation and reproduction is not -known. (?) Dogs are trained to find them, as well as pigs, and boars -also, who are very fond of them. They are eaten cooked under the ashes, -or in wine and water. They are preserved when prepared in oil, which is -soon impregnated with their odour. Poultry is stuffed with them; also -geese’s livers, pies, and cooked pork, besides numerous _ragoûts_. They -possess, as it is said, exciting virtues.” The latter, we suppose, is -a paraphrase for the sentiment of “Falstaff,” before cited, “It rains -potatoes!” Shell-fish had the same reputation in the olden time. “_Tene -marsupium_,” says Italius to Olympio, in the _Rudens_:-- - - “_Abi atque obsonia propera; sed lepidè volo - Molliculas escas, ut ipsa mollicula est._” - -As for the mushroom, if it be not in itself deadly, it has been made -the vehicle of death. Agrippina poisoned Claudius in one, and Nero, -his successor, had a respect for this production ever after. Tiberius, -in Pagan, and Clement VII., in Papal, Rome, as well as Charles VI. -of France, are also said to have been “approximately” killed by -mushrooms. Seneca calls them “voluptuous poison,” and of this poison -his countrymen ate heartily, and suffered dreadfully. The mushroom was -not rendered harmless by the process of Nicander,--raising them under -the shadow of a well-irrigated and richly-manured fig-tree. - -One of the most perfect illustrations of “sauce,” in its popular sense, -with which I am acquainted, is conveyed in the reply once given by a -French _Curé_ to his Bishop. It is a regulation made by canonical law, -that a Priest cannot keep a female servant to manage his household, -unless she be of the assigned age of, at least, forty years. It once -happened that a Bishop dined with a _Curé_, at whose house the Prelate -had arrived in the course of a visitation tour. On that occasion he -found that they were waited on at dinner by two quietly pretty female -attendants, of some twenty years each. When diocesan and subordinate -were once more alone, the former remarked on the uncanonical condition -of the household, and asked the _Curé_ if he were not aware that, by -rule of church, he could maintain but one _menagère_, who must have -attained, at least, forty years of age? “I am quite aware of it, -_Monseigneur_,” said the rubicund _Curé_; “but, as you see, I prefer -having my housekeeper in two volumes!” - -With respect to the use of spices, it may be safely said, that the -less they are used, the better for the stomach. A _soupçon_ of them -in certain preparations is not to be objected to; but it must be -recollected that in most cases, however pleasant they may be to the -palate, the apparent vigour which they give to the stomach is at the -expense of the liver, and the reaction leaves the former in a worse -condition than it was in before. - -The world probably never saw a second time such a trade in spices -as that which was carried on of old between Canaan and Egypt. The -Dutch and Amboyna was a huckstering matter compared with it. Egypt -sent Canaan her corn, wine, oil, and linen; and Canaan sent, in -return, her spicery, balm, myrrh, precious woods, and minerals. The -Ishmaelites were the carrying merchants; and, while each class of them -had its especial article of commerce, they all dabbled a little in -slave-dealing. Thus, the men of the tribe that purchased Joseph dealt -in spicery only,--a term including balm and myrrh. The Egyptian demand -for the article was enormous. At the period of the sale of Joseph, -spicery was most extensively used, not only for the embalming of men, -but of sacred animals. In after times, this practice ceased to a great -extent, on account of a large failure in the supply. - -There is something very characteristic of the “ancient nation” in -the transaction of the brethren with respect to Joseph. The general -proposal was to slay him; but it was Judah, first of his race, who, -with a strong eye to business, exclaimed, “What _profit_ to slay -our brother, and conceal his blood? Come, let us _sell him_ to the -Ishmaelites.” The opposition to fratricide, on the part of Judah, -was not on the principle that it was a crime, but that it brought -nothing. But, no sooner had he pointed out how they might get rid of -the troublesome brother, and put money in their purses to boot, than -the profligate kinsmen adopted the project with alacrity, preferring -lucrative felony to downright profitless murder.--Do I hear you remark, -Sir, that it has ever been thus with this rebellious Jewish people? -Well, let us not be rash in assertions. Judah was a very mercenary -fellow, no doubt; but it was better to sell a live brother into a -slavery which gave him the chance of sitting at the table of Pharaoh -Phiops, than to murder one for the mere sake of making money by the -sale of the body, as was done by a Christian gentleman of the name of -Burke. - -There are some plants used in seasoning which have been esteemed for -other virtues besides lending a fillip to the appetite. Others of these -seasoning plants have acquired an evil reputation. Thus orach was said -to cause pallor and dropsy. Rocket had a double use: it not only was -said to remove freckles, but an infusion of it in wine rendered the -hide of a scourged convict insensible to the whip. Fennel was, unlike -asparagus, held to be good for the sight. Dill, on the other hand, -injured the eyes, while it strengthened the stomach. Anise-seed was in -great favour with the medical philosophers, who prescribed it to be -taken, fasting, in wine; and hyssop wine was a specific for cutaneous -eruptions, brought on by drinking wine of a stronger quality. Wild -thyme cured the bite of serpents,--if the sufferer could only collect -it in time; and pennyroyal was sovereign for indigestion. Rue cured the -ear-ache, and nullified poisons; for which latter purpose it was much -used by Mithridates. Mint was gaily eaten, with many a joke, because -it was said to have been originally a pretty girl, metamorphosed by -Proserpine. The Romans, now and then, ate camomile at table, just as -old country ladies, when tea was first introduced, and sent to them as -a present, used to boil the leaves, and serve them, at dinner, like -spinach. Capers, in the olden time, were vulgar berries, and left for -democratic digestion. “I once saw growing in Italy,” said an Irish -traveller, fit to be “own correspondent” to one of the morning papers, -“the finest anchovies I ever beheld!” A listener naturally doubted the -alleged fact; and the offended Irishman not only called him out, but -shattered his knee-cap by a pistol-shot. As he was leaping about with -intensity of pain, the Irishman’s second remarked to his principal, -that he had made his adversary cut capers, at any rate. “Capers!” -exclaimed the Hibernian, “capers! ’faith, that’s it. Sure, Sir,” -he added, advancing to his antagonist, “you were right; it was not -anchovies, but capers, that I saw growing. I beg pardon: don’t think -any more about it.” Let us add, that, if the aristocratic ancients -deeply declined capers, they were exceedingly fond of assafœtida, as a -seasoning ingredient. Green ginger was also a popular condiment; and it -is commonly eaten in Madagascar at this day. I suppose that, in former -times, Hull imported this production in large quantities, and that -therefore one of her streets is called “the Land of Green Ginger.” The -Romans gave wormwood wine to the charioteers, perhaps considering that -the stomachic beverage would secure them from dizziness. - -I have mentioned above that Mithridates patronized rue as a nullifier -of poisons. He was in the habit of swallowing poisons, as people in -the summer swallow ices; and he was famous for inventing antidotes, to -enable him to take them with impunity. One consequence is, that he has -gained a sort of immortality in our pharmacopœia; and “Mithridate,” -in pharmacy, is a compound medicine, in form of an electuary, serving -as either a remedy or a preservative against poisons, being also -accounted a cordial, opiate, sudorific, and alexipharmic. “Mithridate” -is, or rather, I suppose, was, one of the capital medicines in the -apothecaries’ shops. The preparation of it, according to the direction -of the College, is as follows; and I request my readers to peruse it -attentively, and to get it by heart, in case of necessity supervening. -Here is the facile recipe: “Take of cinnamon, fourteen drachms; of -myrrh, eleven drachms; agarick, spikenard, ginger, saffron, seeds of -treacle-mustard, frankincense, Chio turpentine, of each ten drachms; -camel’s hay, costus, Indian leaf, French lavender, long pepper, seeds -of hartwort, juice of the rape of cistus, strained storax, opopanax, -strained galbanum, balsam of Gilead, or, in its stead, expressed oil -of nutmegs, Russian castor, of each an ounce; poly-mountain, water -germander, the fruit of the balsam tree, seeds of the carrot of Crete, -bdellium strained, of each seven drachms; Celtic nard, gentian root, -leaves of dittany of Crete, red roses, seed of Macedonian parsley, the -lesser Cardanum seeds freed from their husks, sweet fennel seeds, gum -Arabic, opium strained, of each five drachms; root of the sweet flag, -root of wild valerian, anise-seed, sagapenum strained, of each three -drachms; spignel, St. John’s wort, juice of acacia, the bellies of -scinks, of each two drachms and a half; of clarified honey, thrice the -weight of all the rest: dissolve the opium first in a little wine, and -then mix it with the honey made hot. In the mean time, melt together, -in another vessel, the galbanum, storax, turpentine, and the balsam of -Gilead, or the expressed oil of nutmeg,” (I have no doubt that one will -do quite as well as the other; and this must be highly satisfactory for -sufferers to know,) “continually stirring them round, that they may -not burn; and, as soon as these are melted, add to them the hot honey, -first by spoonsful, and afterwards more freely. Lastly, when this -mixture is nearly cold, add by degrees the rest of the spices reduced -to powder,”----_and_, as the French quack used to say of his specific -for the toothache, if it does you no harm, it will certainly do you no -good. For my own part, I think the remedy worse than the disease; but a -gentleman just poisoned may be of another opinion; and I can only say, -that if, with prussic acid knocking at his pylorus, he has leisure to -wait till the above prescription is made up for him,--till the bellies -of scinks and the camel’s hay are procured, and till the ingredients -are amalgamated “by degrees,”--he will, _if_ he survive the poison, the -waiting, and the remedy, have deserved to be called, κατ’ ἐξοχὴν, the -“patient.” But here are the pastry and the fruits; and there ARE people -who are given to believe that pastry and poison are not very wide -asunder. - -When Murat wished to instigate the Italians to labour, he cut down -their olive-trees. The Jews were forbidden to destroy fruit-trees, even -in an enemy’s country; and it used to be a law in France, and may be -so still, that when an individual had received permission to cut down -one of his trees, it was on condition of his planting two. The planters -of vineyards enjoyed many privileges under the Jewish dispensation, -and heathen governments placed both vineyards and orchards under the -protection of the most graceful of their deities, and these deities -were supposed to have an especial affection for particular trees. The -Romans were skilled in forcing their fruits, which were produced at the -third course, and not, as with the Greeks, at the second. - -Minerva is popularly said to have given birth to the olive, which was -the emblem of Peace, the latter being naturally born of Wisdom. But -the poisoned shafts of Hercules were made of the olive, perhaps to -symbolize those armed neutralities which are generally so fatal to -powers with whom the neutrals affect to be at peace. The Autocrat of -Russia, for instance, has been dealing very largely in olive shafts, -tipped with death. But the olive was known to the world before Wisdom, -taking flesh, sprang in her bright panoply from the brain of her sire, -and was called Minerva. From Judea the olive was taken into Greece; -it was not planted within the territory of Rome until a later period; -and, finally, in Spain it found a soil as favourable to cultivation as -that of Decapolis, on holy ground. The Ancona olives were the most -highly esteemed by the Roman Patricians, at whose tables they opened -and closed the banquet. While the olives were greedily swallowed, -the expressed oil was distributed by way of largess to the people. -It was declared to possess, if not a vital principle, something -that stimulated and maintained vitality. Augustus, who was for ever -whiningly hoping that he might die easily, and for ever chanting the -prayer, “Euthanasia!” asked Pollio how he might best maintain his -health and strength in old age. “You have nothing in the world to -do,” said Pollio, “but to drink abundance of wine, and lubricate your -imperial carcase with plenty of oil!”--a prescription which does not -say much for the medical instruction of Pollio. Olive oil was so scarce -at one time, in Europe, that in 817 the Council of Aix-la-Chapelle -authorized the priests to manufacture anointing oil from bacon. With -regard to the fruit itself, it has not even yet undisputed possession -of the public approval; and I am very much of the opinion of the -farmer who, having taken some at his landlord’s table, expressed his -indignation on reaching home, that he had been served with gooseberries -stewed in----brine. - -The palm-tree wine of the Hebrews inspired song, and thence, perhaps, -did the palm itself pass into the possession of the mythological Muses. -The palm-tree deserved to be a popular tree: its wood furnished man -with a house, its branches with fuel; its leaves afforded him garments, -and a bed; and from them he could manufacture baskets, wherein to -carry the fruit, bread, and cakes which he could make from its dates. -I am only astonished that tradition has not made the palm, rather than -the beech or the oak, the original tree which first fed, clothed, and -sheltered man. - -The cherry, compared with the palm, is but as a rustic beauty, -compared with Cleopatra. Mithridates and Lucullus share the glory of -making men acquainted with its fruit. From Cerasus, in Asia, Lucullus, -no doubt, transplanted a cultivated fruit-tree, of a peculiarly fine -sort; but the fruit itself was not unknown to the Romans long anterior -to the time of Lucullus. It was slow in acquiring an esteem in Italy. -The most extraordinary species of cherry with which I am acquainted, -is the Australian cherry, which grows with the stone on the outside. -But Nature, in Australia, is distinguished for her freaks. There the -pears are made of wood, and salt-water fish abound in the fresh-water -rivers! The nastiest species I know of, grows in the vicinity of, and -some of them within, the cemetery of Père-la-Chaise, at Paris. They are -magnificent to the eye, and are not ill-flavoured; but, at the heart of -each there is a maggot, as fat as one of Rubens’s Cupids, and, saving -a slight bitterness, with as much of the taste of the cherry in him as -a citizen of ripe Stilton has of the cheese of which he is so lively a -part. There is not a bad story told of an old and poor Spanish Grandee, -who used to put on spectacles when he sat down to his modest dinner of -bread and cherries, in order that the fruit might gain, apparently, -in magnitude. There was philosophy in this pleasant conceit! If the -poor nobleman had had a dish of our cherries, from Kent, Berks, or -Oxfordshire, he would not have stood in need of his merry delusion. - -How grateful to the palate is the Armenian apricot, blushing, in its -precocity, like a young nymph; or the Persian peach, for a couple -of which the Romans would give a score of pounds! The peach has an -evil tradition with it. It is said to have been originally poisonous, -but to have lost its deadliness when it was transplanted. Perhaps -the peculiarly peachy odour of prussic acid may have contributed to -give currency to a very long-lived, but entirely foundationless, -tradition,--except, indeed, that poison may be extracted from the -kernel; but so may arsenic from a Turkey carpet, and, indeed, from -apple-pips also, as Sir Fitzroy Kelly told the jury, when endeavouring -to save from the gallows a man who had murdered his mistress, in -order that he might not put in peril his respectability! Perhaps the -plum-tree, whether of Africa or Asia, from Egypt or Damascus, has -been more fatal to health, if not to life, than any other of the -stone-fruits. When Pliny complained of their superabundant propagation -in Italy, he probably had in view the usual consequences of a very -plentiful plum season. - -The apricot was not known in France till the eleventh century, and -then they were accounted dear at a farthing each. In the same century -cherries used to appear at the royal table in May. To effect this, lime -was laid at the roots of the tree, which was irrigated with warm water! -Louis XIII. was fond of early fruit, and he had strawberries in March, -and figs in June: this is more than the most expert fig-rearers in -Sussex ever accomplished! The fig used to be esteemed as only inferior -to that compound of luscious savours, the pine,--a fruit which, in the -seventeenth century, was religiously patronized by the Jesuits. The -same sort of sanction was given in the East to dates, though these were -fashionable in Rome, after a basket of them had been sent from Jericho -to Augustus. The Tunis dates are the best; but indulgence in them is -said to loosen the teeth, and produce scurvy. The Tunisian ladies, -however, were as fond of them as the French ladies were of sweet -citrons, before oranges were patronized by Louis XIV. The ladies used -to carry them about, and occasionally suck them, the operation being -considered excellent to produce ruby lips. The citron was hardly less -popular than the Reine Claude plum, which received its pretty name from -the Queen of Francis I., and daughter of Louis XII. I have noticed -the Sussex fig: the white fig of the Channel Islands is also highly -prized; and there is a tree at Hampton Court renowned for its fruit, -but they who eat had better not too curiously inquire as to where the -root of that productive tree penetrates, in order to accomplish its -productiveness. In Sicily, they acupuncture the tree, and drop into it -a little oil, and this is said to improve the flavour of the fruit. -To what I have previously said of the peach, I may add here what the -Chinese say of it; namely, that it produces eternity of life, and -prevents corruption until the end of the world. This species would be a -popular one in England. - -Some writers assert that the apple was originally an African; but a -Negro with a red nose would be an anomaly; and the apple-tree does -not look as if it came from the country of the children of the sun. -Nevertheless, historians assert that it crossed the Mediterranean, -and reached Normandy through Spain and France. The apple has been as -productive of similes as of cider; and perhaps the prettiest is that -of Jeremy Taylor, who says, in his Sermon on the “Marriage Ring,” -that the “celibate, like the fly in the heart of an apple, dwells in -a perpetual sweetness; but sits alone, and is confined, and dies in -singularity:”--a figure of speech, by the way, not highly calculated -to frighten a bachelor. But, after all, the sentiment of Jeremy Taylor -is preferable to that of Gregory of Nazianzum, who calls a wife “an -acquired evil; and, what is worse, one that cannot be put away.” -However this may be, apples were once productive of matrimony in Wales. -When the fruit-dealers there could not find a market, they proclaimed -a dance. The revellers paid entrance-money, and received apples in -return. These meetings were called “apple lakings;” and the fruit was -sauce for many a consequent wedding-dinner. The finest used to be -kept for accompaniment to the roast goose eaten on St. Crispin’s Day. -Brides, in remote times, used to carry a love-apple in their bosoms; -as fond thereof as the pitman’s wife of Northumberland was of the -two lambs which she suckled, after their dams had been killed in a -storm. This was a more creditable affection than that of Marc Antony’s -daughter for a lamprey, which she adorned with ear-rings, and which she -exhibited at dinner; as Lord Erskine did the leeches which had cured -him of some complaint, and which, enclosed in a bottle, he sent round -with the wine. He called one “Cline” and the other “Home,” from the -great surgeons of those names; and noble guests, before filling their -glasses, gravely inspected the leeches, and then duly passed on the -reptiles and the wine. - -This is what a Frenchman would have called a “_triste plaisanterie, -à l’Anglaise_;” and, by the way, I may remark, that Théophile de -Garancières imputes the alleged melancholic nature of Englishmen to the -great use which we make of sugar. Our sires used to make one curious -use of sugar, undoubtedly; namely, when they put it into the mouth -of the dying, in order that their souls might pass away with less -bitterness! - -There is a German proverb which says, that “it is unadvisable to eat -cherries with potentates.” In English this might mean, “Do not make too -free with your betters.” Few royal families, however, have given their -inferiors more frequent opportunities to “eat cherries” with them, -than that of Prussia. I am reminded of this while upon the subject of -pine-apple, a slice of which was once given by Frederick William III. -to a lad employed in the gardens at Sans Souci. “Here,” said the King, -pleasantly, “eat, enjoy, and reflect while thou art eating. Now, what -does it taste like?” The boy looked puzzled, as he munched the pine; -thought of all the most delightful things that had ever passed over -his palate and clung to his memory, and, at last, with a satisfied -expression, exclaimed, “I think,--yes, it does,--it tastes like -sausage!” The courtiers laughed aloud; and the King, philosophizing on -the boy’s answer, said, “Well, every one has his own standard of taste, -guiding his feelings and judgment, and each one believes himself to be -right. One fancies he discovers in the pine-apple the flavour of the -melon; another, of the pear; a third, the plum. Yon lad, in his sphere -of tastes, finds therein his favourite food--the sausage.” - -The lad’s answer was as much food for mirth at Sans Souci, as was that -of the Eton boy who was invited by Queen Adelaide to dine at Windsor -Castle, and who was honoured with a seat at Her Majesty’s side. The boy -was bashful,--the Queen encouraging; and, when the sweets were on the -table, she kindly asked him what he would like to take. The Etonian’s -eyes glanced hurriedly and nervously from dish to dish; pointing to -one of which, he, in some agitation, exclaimed, “One of those twopenny -tarts!” His young eye had recognised the favourite “_tuck_” he was in -the habit of indulging in at _the_ shop in Eton, and he asked for it -according to the local phrase in fashion. Reverting to the lad who -compared pine-apple to German sausage, I may remark, that pine-apple -is most to be enjoyed when the weather is of that condition which made -Sydney Smith once express a wish, that he could “slip out of his fat, -and sit in his bones.” - -The quince is a native of Cydon, in Crete; and first Greece, and then -Rome, Gaul, and Spain, learned to love the fruit, and drink a quince -wine, which was said to be excellent either as a stomachic or as a -counter-poison. - -Galen recommended the pear as an astringent, which is more than a -modern practitioner will do. St. Francis de Paul introduced one sort -into France when he paid a medical visit to Louis XI. The species was -named from the saint, “_le bon Chrétien_.” - -The apple may lay fair claim to antiquity of birth. The fruit has -been diversely estimated by divers nations; but the general favour -has usually awaited it. In ancient times, both in Greece and Persia, -it was the custom for a bridegroom at his nuptial feast to partake -of a single apple, and of nothing else. The origin of the custom is -said to arise from a decree issued by Solon. It was the sight of an -apple that always put Vladislas, King of Poland, into fits. It is the -best fruit that can be taken as an accompaniment to wine; and the -best sorts for such a purpose are the Ribstone Pippin and the Coster -Pearmain. The golden apples stolen by Hercules were lemons; and they -are suspected to have been the “Median apples” of Theophrastus. The -Romans, at first, employed this Asiatic fruit only as a means for -keeping moths out of garments; from this household use it passed into -the ancient pharmacopœia, and it took rank among the counter-poisons. -Its acknowledged reputation in scurvy and punch, if I may so express -myself, was not made until a much later period of civilization. The -orange disputes with the lemon the honour of being the “Hesperides -apples,”--which is a dispute of a very Hibernian character. China -was probably its native place; and the Portuguese oranges are merely -descendants of the original “Chinaman.” It was not known in France -until introduced there by the Constable de Bourbon. In England, an -orange, stuck full of cloves, was a fitting New Year’s present from a -lover,--being typical of warmth and sweetness. - -The fig-tree appears to have been, like the vine, very early used as a -symbol of peace and plenty. It was a tree of Eden; yet the Athenians -claimed it as a native tree, asserting, by way of proof, that it had -been given them by Ceres,--not reflecting that Ceres _may_ have brought -it from a region farther east. If it be commonly employed in Scripture -as a symbol, so an American poet has taken it, with its scriptural -allusions, to illustrate worldly marriages, of which he says, that-- - - ----they are like unto - Jeremiah’s figs: - The good are very good indeed; - The bad, not fit for pigs. - -The authorities of Attica were so fond of _their_ figs, that they -passed a law against the exportation of the fruit. The advocates of -free trade in figs broke the law when they could do so with profit; -and the men who affected to be on friendly terms with them, in order -to betray their proceedings to the Magistrates, were called by a -name which is now given to all fawning traitors,--they were styled, -_sycophants_, or “fig-declarers.” Even the philosophers in Greece -became greedy in presence of figs; and with figs famished armies have -been braced anew for the fight. The _athletæ_ ate of them before -appearing in the arena; and more than one invasion has been traced to -the taste of the invader for figs. Medical men were divided in opinion -as to the merits of this fruit. It was considered indigestible; but, to -remedy that, almonds were recommended to be eaten with it! The Romans, -perhaps, were wiser, who took pepper with them, as we do with melon; -and Dr. Madden says that we should never eat figs at all, if we could -only spend half an hour in Smyrna, and see them packed. So, as I have -before said, a sight of the kitchen, just before dinner, would take -away appetite; but as people do not commonly go to Smyrna, or sit with -their cooks, why, figs and dinners will continue to be eaten. Modern -professors have resembled ancient philosophers in an uncontrollable -appetite for figs. Who has not heard of the famous Oxford fig, which, -in its progress to luscious maturity, was protected by an inscription -appended to it, conveying information to the effect that “this is the -Principal’s fig!” which a daring Undergraduate one day devoured, and -added insult to injury by changing the old placard for one on which -was written, “A fig for the Principal?” The felonious fig-stealer -must have been more rapid in his sacrilege, than the poet Thomson -was in his method of enjoying his own peaches in his garden at Kew. -Attired in the loosest and dirtiest of morning-gowns, the author of the -“Castle of Indolence” used to watch his peaches ripening in the sun. -When he saw one bursting with liquid promise, he was too lazy to take -his unwashed hands from his well-worn pockets, and pluck the blushing -treasure. No; “Jamie” simply sauntered up to it, contemplated it for a -moment with a yawn, and finished his yawn by biting a piece out of the -fruit,--leaving the ghastly remains on the branch for wasps and birds -to divide between them. - -As the Athenian rulers kept their figs, so did the Persian Kings -their walnuts,--and more selfishly; for no one but their most sacred -Majesties dared eat any; but one would think that even they would find -it hard to digest all the walnuts that the country could produce. It -is averred, that walnuts entered largely into the Mithridatic recipe -against poison. The modern recipe, called “Mithridate,” I have given -elsewhere; but that which Pompey is said to have found in the palace of -the King whom he had overthrown, was as follows: “Pound, with care, two -walnuts, two dried figs, twenty pounds of rue, and _a grain of salt_.” -Yes, we should say it must be taken _cum grano_. Howbeit, the royal -physician goes on to say, “Swallow this mixture,--precipitate it with a -little wine,--and you have nothing to fear from the action of the most -active poison, for the space of four-and-twenty hours.” There would, -probably, be less to fear after that time had elapsed than before. - -Nuts have not had respectability conferred on them, even by Nero, -who was wont to go _incog._ to the upper gallery of the theatre, and -take delight in pelting them on the bald head of the Prætor, who -sat below. That official knew the offender, and was rewarded for -bearing the attack good-humouredly; and thence, perhaps, the proverb -which characterizes something falling, at once sudden and pleasant, -by the term, “That’s nuts!” Of course, nuts were in fashion; not so -chestnuts,--these were as much disliked by the Patricians as the -filbert and hazel were said, in France, to be hated by the sun. When -they were ripening, the inhabitants used to issue forth at sunrise, -and endeavour to frighten the luminary out of the firmament, by making -a horrid uproar, with pots, pans, and kitchen utensils generally. And -this was done under a Christian dispensation. The people were not -heathen Chinese, trying to cure an eclipsed planet by attacking the -dragon that was supposed to be swallowing it, with a _tintamarre_ of -caldron, kettle, tongs, and trivet. - -The Athenians were great hands at dumplings, consisting of fruit, -covered with a light and perfumed paste; and Rhodes, verifying the -proverb, that “extremes meet,” was as famous for its gingerbread as -for its Colossus. The Roman wedding-cake was a simple mixture of sweet -wine and flour; and the _savilum_ pie, made of flour, cheese, honey, -and eggs, was a dish to make all sorts of guests jubilant. It was, -in short, the national pie; and if there were a dish that was more -popular, it was the _artocreas_, a huge mince-pie, and the imperial -pie of Verus, compounded of sow’s flank, pheasant, peacock, ham, and -wild boar, all hashed together, and covered with crust. If Emperors -invented pies, so did philosophers create cakes; and the _libuna_ of -Cato was a real cheesecake, that gave as much delight as any of the -same author’s works in literature. Cheese was a favourite foundation -for many of the Roman cakes; but he was a bold man who added chalk, and -so invented the _placenta_. Yet the _placenta_ was eaten as readily -as Charles XII. swallowed raspberry-tarts, Frederick II. Savoy cakes, -or Marshal Saxe--who loved pastry, pastrycooks, and pastrycooks’ -daughters--macaroons. - -The Church honoured pastry,--or would so pious a King as St. Louis have -raised the pastrycooks to the dignity of a guild? The Abbey of St. -Denis, long before this, stipulated with the tenant-farmers, that they -should deliver a certain quantity of flour, to make pastry with; and, -in some cases, in France, portions of the rent for lands was to be paid -in puff pastry. This was at a time when fennel-root tooth-picks used to -appear at table, thrust into the preserved fruits, and every one was -expected to help himself. Certainly our refined neighbours had some -questionable customs. See what L’Etoile says: (1596) “_Les confitures -sèches et les massepains y étaient si peu épargnés que les dames et -demoiselles étaient contraintes de s’en décharger sur les pages et -laquais, auxquels on les baillait tout entiers._” - -Prince George of Denmark, the consort of Queen Anne, was never -suspected of intermeddling with the foreign policy of the kingdom; -but he was something renowned for his appetite, and for the bent of -it towards pastry. I think it is Archdeacon Coxe, in his “Life of the -Duke of Marlborough,” who says of this illustrious Prince, that he -would leave the battle-field, in the very heat of action, and come into -camp, with the hungry inquiry, if it were not yet dinner-time. This -was something worse than drawing off the hounds, or unloading the -fowling-pieces, because the “Castle bell” was peremptorily ringing to -luncheon. Prince George was just the sort of man--fond of good living, -and able to entertain others with the same predilection--who was -likely to be surrounded by parasites; and the remembrance of this fact -suggests that, while the wine is passing round, I may venture to give a -sketch of that ancient and remarkable gentleman, “the Parasite.” It is -better than getting upon controversial subjects, which are productive -of any thing but unanimity. I remember one of the very pleasantest -of “after-dinners” being marred by a guest, who, having slipped into -the assertion that the Jews were the earliest of created people, was -indiscreet enough to try to maintain what he had asserted, and weak -enough to be angry at finding it summarily rejected. Why, Father -Abraham himself was but a foreign Heathen, from Ur of the Chaldees; -and to claim primeval antiquity for the Jews is only as absurd as if -one were to say, that Yankees and mint julep were anterior to Alfred’s -cakes and the Anglo-Saxons. - -But many a hasty assertion has been simply the effect of an antagonism -between imperfect chymification and the oppressed intellect. Mind -and matter have much influence on each other; and, for the guidance -of those interested in such questions, I may, while on the subject -of dinner, notice, that from Dr. Beaumont’s “Table,” drawn out to -show the mean time of digestion in the stomach (or _chymification_) -of various articles of food, we learn that boiled tripe ranks first -in amiable facility, being disposed of in about one hour. Venison -steak requires some half-hour more. Boiled turkey and roast pig are -classed together, as requiring two hours and twenty-five minutes for -the process of digestion; while roast turkey and hashed meat demand -five minutes more. Fricasséed chicken is not more facile of digestion -than boiled salt beef, both requiring two hours and three-quarters. -Boiled mutton, broiled beefsteak, and soft-boiled eggs, take three -hours; while roast beef and old strong cheese trouble the stomach for -some three hours and a half. Roast duck, and fowls, whether boiled or -roasted, are alike slow of digestion: they require four hours as their -mean time of chymification, and are only exceeded by boiled cabbage, -which requires full half-an-hour more. I borrow these details from an -article in the “Journal of Psychological Medicine,” for January, 1851, -a periodical edited by Dr. Forbes Winslow. I believe I do not err in -attributing the article in question (“Mental Dietetics”) to the able -pen of the accomplished Editor himself, than whom no man has a better -right to speak _ex cathedrâ_ on the subject in question. It will be -seen, by the following extract from this article, that diet influences -the mind as well as the body. “The nutritive particles of the food,” -says Dr. Winslow, “being in the form of chyle, mixed with the blood, -and supplying it with the elements which enable it to repair the waste -of the animal system, it is obvious that the health, both of the body -and of the mind, must depend on the quality and quantity of the vital -stream. According to Lecanu, the proportion of the red globules of the -blood may be regarded as a measure of vital energy; for the action of -the serum and of the globules on the nervous system is very different. -The former scarcely excites it, the latter do so powerfully. Now those -causes which tend to increase the mass of blood, tend also to increase -the proportion of red globules; whilst those which tend to diminish the -mass of blood, tend to diminish the proportion of the globules. The -result is obvious. A large quantity of stimulating animal food, without -a proper amount of exercise, augments the number of the red globules, -and diminishes the aqueous part of the blood. Hence the nervous system -becomes oppressed, the brain frequently congested, and the intellectual -faculties no longer enjoy their wonted activity. In the mean time, the -system endeavours to relieve itself by throwing a counter-stimulus upon -certain other organs, the functions of which are morbidly increased. -The blood, in such cases, becomes preternaturally thickened, and its -coagulum unusually firm. On the other hand, if the system be not -supplied with the requisite amount of nutrition, the blood becomes, -by the loss of its red corpuscles, impoverished in quality, and, in -cases of extreme abstinence, diminished in quantity. In these cases the -powers of the mind soon become enfeebled.” - -But we will pass from these scientific matters, to seek the company of -one who, if ignorant of science, was, generally, a great man in the -profession of his peculiar art,--the ancient parasite. - - - - -THE PARASITE. - - ----“Pity those whose flanks grow great, - Swell’d by the lard of others’ meat.”--HERRICK. - - -Para, “near,” and _sitos_, “corn,” pretty well explain what the Greeks -understood by the word “parasite.” As the worthless weed among the -wheat, so was this classical Skimpole in the field of society. As the -weed hung for support to the substance that promised to yield it, so -did the parasite cling to the side of those who kept good tables, and -lacked wit to enliven them. - -The parasite was too delicate a fellow to allow of invidious -distinctions. He supped or dined wherever he was invited, and at -marriage feasts waited for no invitation at all. _There_ he was in his -glory. He was the cracker of jokes, and of the heads of those who did -not agree with every word that fell from the lips of the Amphitryon of -the hour. He usually, however, got his own skull bruised by the watch, -when staggering home through the dark, “full of the god,” and without -a slave to direct his steps. But it was only with the morning that he -became conscious at once of pain from the bruises, and the necessity of -providing, at the cost of others, for his own breakfast. - -These professional “livers out” were, however, not always unattended. -The victims whom they flattered sometimes lent them a slave. Their -wardrobe seldom extended beyond two suits, one for the public, and -one for wear at home. They looked abroad for dupes, just as our -ring-droppers used to do, and for the same purpose. The parasite -generally attached himself to the first simple-looking personage he -encountered, provided he bore with him proofs of being a man who could -afford to live well. _Simplex_ usually swallowed with complacency all -the three-piled flattery with which the parasite troubled him; and if -he were expecting friends to dinner, the gastronome, who wanted one, -was probably invited. But there was always an understanding, that, in -return for the invitation, he was to maintain, for the diversion of the -company, a continual fire of jokes. If he proved but a sorry jester, -he was promptly scourged into the street, down which he ran, nothing -abashed, to look for hearers whom indifferent jests could move to ready -laughter. - -The parasite looked upon the fortune and table of others as a property -which was properly to be held in common. Monsieur Prudhon really -started a parasitical precept, when he tried to establish, that what -belonged to one man belonged to a great many others besides. But if, as -regarded his own share in property that was _not_ his own, the parasite -was so far a Communist, he was the most charitable of fellows, his -earnest prayer being, that none of his patrons might ever fall into -such distress as to be unable to give good dinners. The dinner-table -was his arena. If he got but one meal a day, he consumed enough thereat -to satisfy half-a-dozen appetites; and, as he ate, it was matter of -perfect indifference to him whether he was called upon to find wit -for the guests, or to be the butt of their own. You might buffet him -till he were senseless, provided the blows were afterwards paid for in -brimming glasses. - -He was always first at a feast; and as he was as common an object at -a feast as the sauce itself, so “sauce” was the common name for a -parasite. There he was not only wit, butt, and bully, but porter also; -and his office was not merely to knock down the drunken, but to carry -them out when incapable of performing that office for themselves. The -parasites had a dash, too, of the “bravo” in their character, and -let themselves out for a dozen other purposes besides dining. The -stronger-bodied and the braver-souled let out their strength. “Do you -want a wrestler?” says the parasite, in Antiphæus, “here I am, an -Antæus. If you want a door forced, I have a head like a ram to do it; -and I can scale a wall like Capaneus. Telamon was not stronger than my -wrist; and I can wreathe into the ear of beauty like smoke.” Some of -these Bobadils are even said to have ventured into battle, and to have -especially distinguished themselves in the Commissariat department! - -Others boasted of their powers of fasting,--always provided good pay -assured them of compensating banquets at the end of their service. “I -can live on as little as Tithymallus,” says one; and the individual -in question is said to have supported life on eight lupines a day,--a -hint to Poor-Law Commissioners. Another makes a merit of being as -thin as Philippides, who, like Hood’s friend, was _so_ thin, that, -when he stood side-ways, you could not see him! The merits of a third -are summed up by him in saying, that he can live on water, like a -frog; on vegetables, like a caterpillar; can go without bathing, like -Dirtiness herself, if there be such a deity; can live in winter with -no roof but the sky, like a bird; can support heat, and sing beneath a -noon-day sun, like a grasshopper; do without oil, like the dust; walk -bare-footed from break of day, like the crane; and keep wide awake all -night, like the owl. - -Of such a profession the parasite was proud, and even declared that its -origin was divine; and that Jupiter Amicalis (Ζεὺς ὁ φίλιος) was its -patron saint! As Jove entered where he chose, ate and drank of what -most took his fancy, and, after creating an atmosphere of enjoyment, -retired without having any thing to pay; just so, it was argued, -was it with the parasite. In Attica, parasites were admitted to the -commemorative banquets that followed the sacrifices to Hercules; proof -enough that they were accounted as being of the same kidney as heroes. -In later times came degenerate men and manners; and then, instead of -honourable men sitting with gods and heroes, the office of parasite was -so degraded, that none but the hungry wits exercised it. Flattery to -mortals then took the place of praise to gods. The parasite was ready -to laud every act of the master of the feast,-- - - “----_laudare paratus - Si bene ructavit, si rectum minxit amicus_,” - -and to eulogize a great number of other acts besides, as may be -found noted by those who are very curious, and not over-nice, in the -fragments of Diodorus of Sinope. - -The fellows were witty, too, however degraded. When Chœrephon had, -uninvited, slipped into a vacant position at a wedding-dinner, the -gynæconomes, as inspectors of the feast, counting the guests, came upon -him last, and said, “You are the thirty-first: it is against the law; -you must withdraw.” “I do not dispute the law,” said the parasite, “but -I object to your manner of counting. Begin the numbering by me, and -your conclusions will be indisputable.” - -The parasite, Philoxenus, happened to be supping with a host who -gave his guests nothing but black bread. “This is not a loaf, but a -spectre,” whispered the professional wit: “if we eat any more of it, we -shall soon be in the shades.” - -There was more wit in Bithys, the parasite of the avaricious King -Lysimachus, who one day, at dinner, flung a wooden scorpion at the -flatterer. The latter affected great fright, but afterwards remarked, -“I will, in my turn, terrify you, O King; be good enough to give me a -talent.” - -Clisophus, another of this strange brotherhood, either fooled or -flattered King Philip to the very top of his bent. The King having -lost an eye, Clisophus always sat down to dinner in his presence with -a bandage over one of his own; and when the Monarch limped, from a -wound in the leg, Clisophus went “halting at his side;” and if, by -chance, an ill odour affected the royal nostrils, Clisophus wore, -all day long, a grimace upon his features, as if he were sick with -disgust. However absurd this may appear, the parasites of Louis XIV. -flattered him as grossly as the original practitioners did the early -and heathen Kings. People shaved their heads and wore periwigs, because -the Monarch, having little hair of his own, wore long locks cropped -from other heads. So, when once at dinner he complained of having lost -his teeth, a young flatterer who sat next him swore, with a broad smile -which displayed his own incisors, that nobody had teeth now-a-days. -And again, when the King, on his seventieth birthday, inquired the age -of a person from whom he had received a petition, the reply was, that -the person was of everybody’s age,--about threescore and ten. Nay, -the Court preachers flattered the Sovereign quite as coarsely as the -mere courtiers, and would not have received invitations to dinner, -if they had not done so. “My brethren,” said one of these, “all men -must die;” and at that very moment he perceived the eye of the King -glaring uneasily upon him:--“that is to say, Sire, _almost all_ men!” -and the complaisant preacher was at the royal table that day. The same -parasitical spirit prevailed at the English Court, especially when -bolster neckcloths were worn, simply because the King was compelled to -wear one, in consequence of a disease in the glands of the neck. But, -to translate the sentiment of the French poet,-- - - “From royal example slaves have never shrunk: - When Auguste tippled, Poland soon got drunk. - When the great Monarch breathed the air of love, - Hey, presto, pass! Paris was Venus’ grove! - But turn’d a Churchman and devout, alas! - The courtiers ran and beat their breasts at mass.” - -It is said by ancient writers that the species of flattery which -Clisophus paid Philip, was obligatory on all the guests and officials -in the ancient royal Courts of Arabia. There, if the King suffered -in any member, every courtier was bound to be in pain in the same -limb. This species of flattery was, in fact, a conclusion logically -arrived at; for the Arab lawgivers said that it would be absurd in -the courtiers to vie with one another for the honour of being buried -alive with the King defunct, if they did not suffer with him in all his -bodily pains when living. - -The Celtic King of the Sotians maintained a body of men who were -called the “Eucholimes,” or the “Death Volunteers.” They amounted to -six hundred men; they were lodged, clothed, and tended like the King, -with whom they daily sat at meat; but they were also bound to die with -their master; and it is alleged that the chance was eagerly incurred, -and that no man ever failed, when called upon by the King’s decease, to -accompany His Majesty on a visit to his royal cousin, Orcus. - -But your regular parasite preferred to live and flatter living -Monarchs. “See,” said Niceas, when he saw Alexander troubled by a -fly that stung him, “there is one that will be King over all flies; -for he has imbibed the blood of him who is King over all men.” The -flattery was not more delicate which Chirisophus once paid at dinner -to Dionysius the Tyrant. Chirisophus, seeing the King smile at the -other end of the table, burst into a roar of laughter. The King -asked, “Wherefore?” seeing that the parasite could not have heard the -joke. “True,” said Chirisophus; “but I saw that Your Majesty had heard -something worth laughing at, and I laughed in sympathy.” This species -of parasite is not uncommon in English houses; but perhaps they do -their office more refinedly than Chirisophus. - -The flatterers of the younger Dionysius were far more disgusting in -their adulation. They were simply absurd, when they pretended to be -short-sighted, like him, and to be unable to see a dish, unless they -thrust their noses into it. But they were filthy followers when they -offered their faces for the King to “void his rheum” upon, and even -went to extremes of nastiness at which human nature shudders, but at -which Dionysius smiled. And yet Dionysius was hailed by some of them as -a god. It was the custom, we are told, in Sicily, for every individual -to make sacrifices, in his own house, before the figures of the nymphs, -to get devoutly drunk before the altar, and to dance round it as long -as the pious devotee could keep upon his legs. It was accounted as an -exquisite piece of flattery in Damocles, the parasite, that he refused -to perform such service before inanimate deities, while he went through -the whole duty before Dionysius as his god. The Athenians, it will be -remembered, were horror-stricken at such impious laudation as this. -They fined Demades ten talents for having proposed to award divine -honours to Alexander; and Timagoras, whom they had sent as Ambassador -to the King of Persia, they put to death for compromising the Athenian -dignity by prostrating himself before that King. And, indeed, let us do -justice to Alexander himself. He had more than misgiving touching his -own alleged divinity. He had once--“his custom in the afternoon”--eaten -and drunk so enormously, that in the evening he was forced to a -necessity which compels very mortal people,--take physic. He made -as many contortions, on swallowing it, as a refractory child; and -Philarches, his parasite, remarked, with a rascally hypocritical smile, -“Ah! what must be the sufferings of mortal man under such medicine, if -you, who are a divinity, feel it so much!” The idea of a deity drawing -health out of an apothecary’s phial, was too much even for Alexander, -who declined to accept the apotheosis, and called Philarches an ass. - -But Philarches was only giving the King a taste of the parasite’s -professional craft. The noble Nicostratus of Argos quite as impiously -flattered the Sovereign of Persia, when, for the sake of currying -favour with that majestic barbarian, he every night, in his own house, -prepared a solemn supper, richly provided, and offered to the genius of -the King, (τῶ δαίμονι τοῦ Βασιλέως,) for no better reason than that he -had learned that such was the custom in Persia. Whether he profited or -not by this delicate attention, Theopompus does not inform us. - -The Anactes or Princes of the royal family of Salamis maintained two -distinct families, in whom, if I understand Athenæus rightly, the -office of flatterer (and of spy, I may add) was hereditary. These were -the Gerginoi and the Promalangai. The former did the dirty work of -circulating among the people, worming themselves into their confidence, -getting invited to their tables, and then reporting to the Promalangai -all they had heard. The last-named took such portions of the report as -were worth communicating to the Anactes, with whom they sat at table, -where such a dish of scandal was daily served as would puzzle the -social spies of Paris to set before their lord. - -But the profession was not accounted vile; and the professors -themselves gloried in their vocation. They extolled the easiness of -their life, compared, for instance, with that of the painter, or the -labourer, or, in fact, with that of any other individual but those -of their own guild. “Truly,” says one, in a fragment of Antiphanes, -“since the most important business in life is to play, laugh, trifle, -and drink, I should like to know where you would find a condition more -agreeable than ours.” - -Once, and once only, a faction of parasites contrived to get possession -of a kingdom; and the dinners they gave, and the government they -maintained, are matters to which description can hardly do justice. -The faction in question was headed by, and almost solely consisted -of, three men in Erythra, who stood, in regard to Cnopus, the King, -as “adorers and flatterers” (πρόσκυνες καὶ κόλακες). They murdered -their Sovereign, and, by a _coup-d’état_, possessed themselves of -his authority. Their names were Ortyges, Irus, and Echarus; and they -ruled with a triple rod of iron, held in very effeminate fingers. -They silenced all opponents by slaying them; and, when no one dared -utter a breath against them, they vaunted their universal popularity. -They administered a ferociously absurd sort of justice at the gates -of Erythra, where they sat decked out in purple and gold. They were -sandaled like women, wore ornaments only suitable to females, and sat -down to dinner in diadems that dazzled the company. - -The guests were once free citizens, who were now compelled to bear the -litters of their _parvenu_ masters, to cleanse the streets, and then, -by way of contrast, to attend the banquet of the Triumvirs, with their -wives and daughters. If they objected to drag these latter to the scene -of splendid infamy, the objection was only made at the price of death. -The unhappy women were nothing the safer from insult by the decease of -their natural protectors; and the scenes at the palace were such as -only the uncleanest of demons could rejoice in. If the authorities had -reason to be grave, the whole city was compelled to affect sorrow; and -duly-appointed officers went round, with hard-thonged whips, to scourge -a sense of “decent horror” into the countenances of the bewildered -inhabitants. Things at last reached such a pitch of extravagant -atrocity, that the people took heart of grace, screwed up their courage -by Chian wine, and swept their oppressors into Hades;--and, for years -afterwards, commemorative banquets celebrated the restoration of the -people from the oppression of the parasites. - -I would recommend those who would see the parasite in action, to -study the comedies of Plautus, wherein he figures as necessarily -as the impertinent valet in a Spanish comedy. Plautus calls the -parasites _poetæ_, as being given to lying; and it is singular that -the Gauls called their poets “parasites,” as being fond of good -living, and not being always in a condition to procure it. They had -their “dull season:” it was when the wealthy were at their villas; -at which time the parasites dined upon nothing, in town, with good -“Duke Humphrey.” When the city was again resorted to by the rich, -then the parasite might sometimes be seen purchasing, by order of his -patron, the provisions for the evening feast. We find one of these -gentry, in Plautus, boasting that he knows a story that will be worth -thirty dinners to him. Before the era of printing, the parasite, with -his jests and histories, was a sort of living Circulating Library. -Saturion (another of Plautus’s pictures of the parasite) is at peace -with himself, because, as he says, he can provide for his daughter by -bequeathing to her his rich collection of jokes and dinner-stories. -“They are all sparkling Attic,” he says; “and there is not a dull -Sicilian anecdote among them.” - -If the race were, in some sense of the word, “literary,” they were -not at all in love with science, or the improvements wrought by -its application. Witness the bitterness with which Plautus makes -one denounce the sun-dial, then of recent introduction. Before that -tell-tale appeared, dinners used to be served when people were hungry; -but _now_ even hungry people wait for the appointed hour. In short, -throughout life, they worked but for the sake of the banquet and -wine-pot; and, even after death, they longed for libations, as appears -in the epitaph on the parasite, Sergius of Pola, who is made to say, -from the grave,-- - - “_Si urbani perhiberi vultis - Arenti meo cineri, - Cantharo piaculum vinarium festinate._” - - “If you’ve any regard for this corpse here of mine, - Be so good as to damp it with hogsheads of wine.” - -Finally, these diners-out by profession were essentially selfish; and -the fire of their attachment blazed up, or died away, according to that -in the kitchen of the Amphitryon by whom they were maintained. - -A good specimen of the parasite of the last century may be found in the -Captain Cormorant of Anstey’s “Bath Guide;” but the race is by no means -extinct, though the individual be more rarely met with; and, be it said -as their due, they execute their office with something more of decency -than did their ancient predecessors. Modern flattery, like modern oils, -is “double refined.” Let us see if we can trace the course of this -refinement through the Table Traits of Utopia and the Golden Age. - - - - -THE TABLES OF UTOPIA AND THE GOLDEN AGE. - - -The good Archbishop Fénelon, in his “_Voyage dans l’Ile des Plaisirs_,” -cites some charming examples of the pleasant way in which people lived -in the Utopian Land of Cocagne, which he describes from imagination, -and where the laws were characterized by more good sense than -distinguishes the legislation of the Utopian authorities of More. - -The “_Voyage_” of Fénelon was probably founded on a fragment of -Teleclides, who has narrated, in rattling Greek metres, how the -citizens of the world lived and banqueted in the golden age of its -lusty youth. The poet puts the description into the mouth of Saturn, -who says, “I will tell you what sort of life I vouchsafed to men in the -early ages of creation. In the first place, peace reigned universally, -and was as common as the water you wash your hands with. Fear and -disease were entirely unknown; and the earth provided spontaneously for -every human want. The rivers then poured cataracts of wine into the -valleys; and cakes disputed with loaves to get into the mouth of man, -as he walked abroad, supplicating to be eaten, and giving assurances of -excellent flavour and quality. The tables were covered with fish which -floated into the kitchens, and courteously put themselves to roast. -By the sides of the couches rolled streams of sauces, bearing with -them joints of ready-roasted meat; while rivulets full of _ragoûts_ -were near the guests, who dipped in, and took therefrom, according to -their fancy. Every one could eat of what he pleased; and all that he -ate was sweet and succulent. There were countless pomegranate seeds -for seasoning; little _pâtés_ and _grives_, done to a turn, insinuated -themselves into the mouths of the banqueters; and tarts got smashed in -trying to force their way into the throat. The children played with -sow-paps and other delicacies as they would with toys; and the men were -gigantic in height, and obese in figure.” - -The above is a specimen of the classical idea of that delicious-- - - ----“Land of Cocagne, - That Elysium of all that is friand and nice, - Where for hail they have bon-bons, and claret for rain, - And the skaters, in winter, show off on cream-ice.” - -It is a theme with which modern poets have been as fond of dealing as -Teleclides and others of the tuneful children of song, in the early -period when young Time counted his birthdays by the sun. It has been -well treated by Béranger, who thus describes, through my imperfect -translation, his own impressions of - - -A JOURNEY TO THE LAND OF COCAGNE. - - Ho, friends, every one! - Let us up, and be gone;-- - To where care is not known, - Let us hasten away! - Yes; fired with champagne, - I reel o’er the plain, - And see dear Cocagne - In its sunny array. - - O! land full of glee,-- - Here long may I be, - And laugh merrilie - At Fate’s changeable way. - For here--what a treat!-- - I may love, drink, and eat, - And--this makes it more sweet-- - There is nothing to pay! - - My appetite’s great, - And I see the huge gate - Of a tower of state - At my elbow, handy: - The tower is a pie;-- - And tall guards, standing by, - Carry spears ten feet high, - All in sugar-candy. - - Ah! banquet of fun, - It will please ev’ry one: - Look, there is not a gun - But of sugar is made! - See the paintings, how grand! - And the statues, they stand, - All wrought by the hand - Out of sweet marmalade. - - Here the people repair - In gay crowds to the square, - Where the jests of a fair - With loud merriment shine; - Where the fountains so gay - Not with water do play, - But are sparkling away - With rich, rosy, old wine! - - Here, the baking’s begun; - There, the baking is done;-- - See the folks how they run, - With beef, mutton, and veal. - And the eaters think fit, - That the man who lacks wit, - Shall be made a “turnspit,” - And be bound to the wheel. - - To the palace I haste, - With two Falstaffs I feast, - (Twenty stone weighs the least,) - And with them hob and nob. - And here, too, I’ve found, - Where such good things abound, - Shy Venus quite round, - And young Cupid a squab. - - No sadness of brow, - No pedantic vain show, - No pompous state-bow, - Can be ever allow’d:-- - But with feasting and song - We carry night on, - Drink deep and drink long, - And toast beauty aloud. - - Now, good-natured lasses, - To the music of glasses, - As the sweet dessert passes, - Let’s laugh the time by. - Let fools sigh and snuffle, - And merriment muffle, - But you, dears, shall ruffle - Our pro--priety. - - * * * * * - - So, in this joyous way, - With fresh loves ev’ry day, - And with no debts to pay, - We scamper time o’er; - While between drinking deep, - And light visions in sleep, - Our young years will creep - To a hundred or more. - - Yes, dear old Cocagne, - It’s with thee,--free from pain,-- - But who checks my strain, - In an accent so shrill? - For, while singing, I thought,-- - But, my friends, we are caught,-- - ’Tis the waiter who’s brought - His confounded long bill. - -The fairy-land of Cocagne is said to derive its name from the Latin, -_coquere_, “to cook.” Duchat says, that its flocks and herds present -themselves perfectly cooked, and that the larks descend from the skies -ready roasted. For it is there alone-- - - “Where so ready all nature its cookery yields, - _Maccaroni au parmesan_ grows in the fields; - Little birds fly about with the true pheasant taint, - And the geese are all born with a liver complaint.” - -The Utopian banquets, which are described by More, present an imaginary -view of society in another extreme. The learned Chancellor, amid much -invented nonsense, pictures the manners of the citizens of Amaurat -after the fashion of those of Crete and Lacedæmonia, especially with -regard to their common halls for their repasts,--a fashion, by the way, -which was partially followed in the club-rooms of Attica. Others of the -author’s ideas have been realized since he wrote; and, in this respect, -his Utopia may be said to have done good service; but there is a woful -residue of nonsense, nevertheless, which is neither amusing nor useful. - -Sir Thomas describes the citizens of Amaurat as possessing -provision markets abundantly supplied with herbs, fruits, bread, -fowl, and cattle. The latter were previously slain in extra-mural -slaughter-houses, well-furnished with running water, for washing away -the filth after killing. The butchers were slaves, (for serfdom “was a -peculiar institution” of this happy republic,) the free citizens not -being permitted to kill animals, lest such pursuit should harden their -singularly tender characters. “In every street,” we are told by the -author, “there are great halls that lie at an equal distance from one -another, and are marked by peculiar names. The Syphogrants dwell in -those, that are set over thirty families, fifteen lying on one side of -it, and as many on the other. In these they do all meet and eat. The -stewards of every one of them come to the market-place at an appointed -hour, and, according to the number of those that belong to their hall, -they carry home provisions. But they take more care of their sick than -of any others.... After the steward of the hospitals has taken for them -whatever the physician does prescribe for them, at the market-place, -then the best things that remain are distributed equally among the -halls, in proportion to their numbers; only, in the first place, they -serve the Prince, the Chief Priest, the Tranibors, and Ambassadors, -and strangers, if there are any, which, indeed, falls out but seldom, -and for whom there are houses well-furnished, particularly appointed, -when they come among them. At the hours of dinner and supper, the -Syphogranty, being called together by sound of trumpet, meets and -eats together, except only such as are in the hospitals, or lie sick -at home. Yet, after the halls are served, no man is hindered to carry -provisions home from the market-place, for they know none does that -but for some good reason; for, though any that will may eat at home, -yet none does it willingly, since it is both an indecent and foolish -thing for any to give themselves the trouble to make ready an ill -dinner at home, when there is a much more plentiful one made ready for -him so near at hand. All the uneasy and sordid services about these -halls are done by their slaves; but the dressing and cooking of their -meat, and ordering of their tables, belong only to the women, which -goes round all the women of every family by turns. They sit at three -or more tables, according to their numbers; the men sit towards the -wall, and the women sit on the other side, that if any of them fall -suddenly ill, which is ordinary to those expecting to be mothers, she -may, without disturbing the rest, rise and go to the nurses’ room, who -are there with the suckling children, where there is always fire and -clean water at hand, and some cradles in which they may lay the young -children,” &c. But, to return from this public nursery to the public -dining hall, “all the children under five years of age dined with the -nurses: the rest of the younger sort of both sexes, till they are fit -for marriage, do either serve those that sit at table; or, if they are -not strong enough for that, they stand by them in great silence, and -eat that which is given them by those that sit at table, nor have they -any other formality of dining.” The whole formality was bad enough, and -that last-mentioned was a Doric custom prevailing in Crete. As to the -personal arrangements at these Utopian tables, the infelicitous guests -stood much upon their order of precedence: the syphogrant and his -wife, the _gnädige Frau Syphograntinn_, presided at the centre of the -cross-table, at the upper end of the hall. After the Magistrates and -their mates, came the Priests and their ladies,--for More placed the -Church below the State, and hinted that celibacy in the Clergy was not -to be commended. Below these, groups of the young and gay were placed, -between flanking companies of the aged and grave, to spoil their mirth, -and improve their manners; and this Spartan custom was occasionally -imitated at Athenian feasts, albeit the Athenians looked with something -like contempt upon the institutions of old Laconia. The best dishes -were placed before the oldest men, and the latter gave of the dainty -bits to the young, if these merited such favour by their behaviour; if -not, they took their chance of what the older gourmands might leave, or -were obliged to be content with the plainer fare allotted to them. - -During this delectable process, the young could not have offended by -their gaiety, nor the old have improved them by conversation, seeing -that a reader was appointed, to assist digestion by reading aloud an -Essay on Morality. The Romans had the same office performed at some of -their meals by learned slaves. More expressly says that the Utopian -lecture was so short, that it was neither tedious nor uneasy to those -that heard it; and that after it, the elders not only wagged their -beards by “pleasant enlargements,” but encouraged the young to follow -them in the same track. This must have been after the supper, when it -was the law of Utopia, not to “run a mile,” but to “rest awhile.” The -dinners were dispatched quickly, because work awaited the diners, while -the supper-eaters had nothing to do afterwards but sleep. This must -have been all terribly dreary, if it had ever been realized. The only -pleasant feature in More’s Utopian banquets is, that wherein he says -that there was always music at supper, and fruit served up after meat, -(which, by the way, was a cruel trial for the digestive powers,) and -that as the repast proceeded, “some burn perfumes, and sprinkle about -sweet ointments, and sweet waters; and they are wanting in nothing -that may cheer up their spirits; for they give themselves a large -allowance in that way, and indulge themselves in all such pleasures as -are attended with no inconvenience. Thus,” he adds, “do they that are -in towns eat together; but in the country, where they live at a greater -distance, every one eats at home, and no family wants any necessary -sort of provision; for it is from them that provisions are sent in to -them that live in the towns.” - -I have noticed above the slave-readers at Roman dinners. These were -seldom born slaves; indeed, of born slaves, among the Greeks or Romans, -the numbers were fewer than might be reasonably imagined. Those who -became authors or teachers, were the distinguished and illustrious of -their class; and it was they who relieved the tedium of a Roman repast -by reading livelier sallies than Essays on Morality, like the Utopians. -If their rank in humanity was low, their ability secured for them many -privileges which even freedmen did not enjoy. Of this rank of reading -slaves was Andronicus, the inventor of dramatic poetry. Plautus, the -witty, but coarse, play-writer, miller, and Jack of all trades, was -a slave. Terence was also a dramatist, and not only a slave, but a -Negro slave. Æsop the fabulist, Phædrus, his imitator, and the moral -philosopher Epictetus, were slaves. The latter, who was as low in -condition among bondsmen as he was exalted in his character of teacher -of mankind, was the slave of one who had been a slave,--a depth of -degradation than which there can be none deeper. But his mission was -a great one; for he appears to me to have been an instrument employed -to prepare men’s minds for a change from the vices of Paganism to the -virtues of Christianity. His writings are as stepping-stones across the -dark and rapid stream dividing error from truth. They are admirably -calculated to enable men to go forward; not only to induce them to -make the first step out of infidelity; but, having made it, rather to -make a second in advance towards Christ, than go backward again in the -direction of the dazzling unintelligibilities of the Capitoline Jove. - -From slavery, if we turn our eyes towards mere poverty, the next -condition to it, we shall see that the poor men characteristically -paid their addresses to poetry;--and they were the “lions” at the -dinners and assemblies of Rome. Such was Horace, who, if he were not -in want, was of inferior descent, his father having been a slave, and -subsequently, on being enfranchised, a tax-gatherer. Virgil was of -equally mean descent on the paternal side; but he derived some portion -of nobility from his mother. Juvenal, too, was not only poor and a -poet,--a condition that could draw upon it only a serf’s contempt,--but -he was, moreover, an exceedingly angry poet. In equal proportion as he -was poor, angry, and satirical in poetry, was Lucian poor, angry, and -satirical in prose. - -If the dining-out poets were poor, it was much the same with the -philosophers. The proudest walks of philosophy were trodden by -Demosthenes, the blacksmith. Socrates was the ill-featured, but -original-minded, son of a mason and midwife. Epicurus was only rich in -a valueless boast of being descended from Ajax; and Isocrates, whose -father manufactured the musical ancestry from which are descended the -modern families of piano-forte and fiddle, was also one of the immortal -race of intellectual giants.... Of other writers we may remark, that -Quintus Curtius, whose “Alexander the Great” is the first historical -romance that ever was written, and contains the best description of a -Babylonian banquet that ever was painted in words, was of an ignoble -family. Celsus was, at least, not a Roman citizen, though resident at -Rome; and Plutarch was just “respectable,” and nothing more;--though -to be worthy of respect, as the term implies, is as high rank as a man -need sigh for. - -But though art and science, though the Nine Sisters who made -Parnassus vocal, were thus worshipped by the slave and his cousin the -beggar, wealth was by no means a synonymous term for either sloth -or incapacity. The opulent Lucretius, who believed nothing; the two -Plinies, the soul of one of whom, “with a difference,” entered into -Horace Walpole, and who wrote about his slave Zozimus, as Walpole does -of his favourite servants; the tender and chivalrous Tibullus,--a -Latin Sir Philip Sidney; the profligate Sophocles; Æschylus, the -bottle-drainer; and the lofty Euripides: all these mounted Pegasus -with golden spurs, and gave glorious dinners to guests with whom they -could contend in the battle of brains. Some, like Martial, got their -mouths filled with the sugar-candy of imperial recompence. Cæsar, the -Commentator, was the descendant of the Sabine Kings, and the founder -of an empire. In Plato we see the double condition of aristocrat and -slave. From the latter condition he was rescued by his noble friends -at the cost of three thousand _drachmas_; more fortunate in this than -Diogenes, who, being friendless, was left to hug his irons, and teach -his master’s sons to love virtue and liberty. - -And the mention of the name of Plato reminds me of a more modern -philosopher, who did not lack reverence for him,--I mean Bacon,--and -Bacon naturally brings me from my digression to the subject of -“Table Traits” in imaginary Utopias. This philosopher, in his “New -Atlantis,” is even more infelicitous than More, both in the framing -of his fiction, and the extracting from it of a moral. The table laws -spoken of in Solomon’s house, have more of a jolly aspect than those -drawn by Sir Thomas More. For instance, “I will not hold you long with -recounting of our brewhouses, bakehouses, and kitchens, where are made -divers drinks, breads, and meats, rare and of special effects. Wines we -have of grapes, and drinks of other juice, of fruits, of grains, and of -roots; and of mixtures with honey, sugar, manna, and fruits dried and -decocted; also of the tears and woundings of trees, and of the pulp of -canes: and these drinks are of several ages, some to the age at least -of forty years. We have drinks also brewed of several herbs or roots, -and spices, yea, with several fleshes and wine-meats, whereof some of -the drinks are such as they are in effect meat and drink both. So that -divers, especially in age, do desire to live with them, with little or -no meat or bread; and, above all, we strive to have drinks of extreme -thin parts, to insinuate into the body, and yet without all biting -sharpness, or fretting; insomuch as some of them put upon the back of -your hand will, with a little stay, pass through to the palm, and yet -taste mild to the mouth. We have also waters which we ripen in that -fashion as they become nourishing, so that they are, indeed, excellent -drink, and many will use no other. Breads we have of several grains, -roots, and kernels, yea, and some of flesh and fish dried, with divers -kinds of leavenings and seasonings, so that some do extremely move -appetites; some do nourish so as divers do live of them without any -other meat, who live very long. So, for meats, we have some of them so -beaten and made tender and mortified, yet without all corrupting, as a -weak heat of the stomach will turn them into good chylus, as well as a -strong heat would meat otherwise prepared. We have some meats, also, -and breads and drinks which, taken by some, enable them to fast long -after; and some other that will make the very flesh of men’s bodies -sensibly more hard and tough, and their strength far greater than -otherwise it would be.” - -In this way could philosophy disport itself, and not with much -attendant profit, beyond amusement. Before I conclude this section, I -may notice a more graceful fiction touching banquets, than any thing -to be met with among the philosophers. The inhabitants of the coast of -Malabar believe that the double cocoas of the Moluccas, annually thrown -on their shore by the waves, and joyfully welcomed by the expecting -inhabitants, are the produce of a palm-tree growing in the fathomless -recesses of the ocean; and that they arise from among coral-groves -endowed with supernatural qualities and attributes. For a detailed -account of this supposed phænomenon, and a very pretty illustration -of the theory of seeds transported by winds and currents, I refer all -curious inquirers to the “Annals of _My_ Village,” by a Lady. In the -mean time, I venture to put into verse, the supposed scene which occurs -at the annual cocoa-banquet in Malabar:-- - - ’Neath the waves of Mincoy grows a magical tree, - In the sunless retreat of a dark coral-grove, - Where slumber young sprites,--the gay elves of a sea - Flinging back the bright blue of its heaven above. - There they sip the sweet fruit of that palm-tree, and leave - Of its best and its ripest for maidens who stray, - And laugh away time with their lovers at eve, - And sing to those elves of the deep by the way. - - Ο! to see them at sunset, when down by the shore - Of their own Malabar in gay clusters they stand, - Like spirits of light shedding softness all o’er - The broad sea, and its tribute of fruit, from the land! - There troops of young girls, in their light-hearted mirth, - Are laughing at youths who, reclined on the earth, - Drink the white wine of Kishna;--while some are at play, - Flinging glances and handsfull of roses, in showers, - That their lovers can’t tell, as they bend ’neath the fray, - Which are falling the fastest,--the glances, or flowers. - - And then on the sands where these young people meet, - What hushing of songs and suppressing of glee, - As the waves bring in gently, and waft to their feet, - The ripe fruit of the palm that lives under the sea! - There, while, half in earnest, fair Malabar’s daughters, - Half play, dip their white, sandal’d feet in the waters, - To catch the ripe cocoas, and run back again, - As the wave washes over their small anklet bells, - There are some, youths and maidens, who, link’d in a chain, - Like pearls strung, and mix’d, here and there, with sea-shells, - Dash into the flood for the fruit of the palm, - Which they strive for, and, winning, bring joyously out; - Then lean on their lovers, all panting and warm - With laughter and splashing the waters about. - - O, who would not like to pass summer away - Amid scenes such as this? O, who would not love - With Malabar’s daughters, at twilight, to play, - And taste the ripe fruit of that dark coral-grove? - -The Malabar palm was not the only tree of its kind that used to -afford holidays and banquetings to the people of the East, that is, -according to the poets. The Talipot palm of Ceylon, or, as the natives -somewhat unmusically call it, “_lanka dwipa_,” _was_, in the olden -time of pleasant fiction, one of this gifted species. But the banquet -it afforded was not of annual occurrence; for the tree never flowers -till it is fifty years old, and dies immediately after producing its -fruit. The Kings of Candy used to bestow the rich gift of some of its -blossoms on the favoured fair one whose head rested on the bosom of -the Sovereign at the feast, and who lifted the bowl to his painted -lips. It was, however highly esteemed, not such a present as Demetrius -Poliorcetes made to Lamia, after that accomplished courtezan had -erected at Sicyon a portico so superb, that Polemo wrote a book to -describe it; and poem and portico became the table-talk of all Greece. -The gift of Demetrius was a magnificent purse, containing two hundred -and fifty talents, which, by the way, he had compelled the reluctant -Athenians to contribute; and this he sent to Lamia, saying, that it was -merely “for soap.” The extravagant lady spent it all in one single, -but consuming, feast! How pleasantly, by contrast, shines that other -courtezan, Leæna, whose wit made guests forget that the feast was -frugal; and to whom the Athenians erected a bronze lioness, without a -tongue, in honour of the lady who heroically had bitten out her own, -that torture might not make her betray the accomplices of her protector -Harmodius, in the murder of her tyrant Hipparchus!---- - -We have not found much of the refinement we looked for in these remote -periods and banquets. Let us see what may be discovered in the Table -Traits of England in Early Times. - - - - -TABLE TRAITS OF ENGLAND IN EARLY TIMES. - - -When Diodorus Siculus wrote an account of the aboriginal inhabitants of -Britain, some fifty years before the Christian era, he described the -island as being thickly inhabited, ruled by many Kings and Princes, and -all living peaceably together,--though with war-chariots and strong -arms, to settle quarrels when they occurred. But if our ancestors -lived peaceably among themselves, they can hardly be said to have -lived comfortably. Their habitations were of reed, or of wood; and -they gathered in the harvest by cutting off the ears of corn. These -ears they garnered in subterranean repositories, wherefrom they daily -culled the ripest grain; and, rudely dressing the same, had thence -their sustenance. Diodorus says that our primitive sires were far -removed from the cunning and wickedness of the rest of the world; and -other writers contrast them favourably with the Irish, who are said to -have fed on human flesh, to have had enormous appetites for such food, -and to have been given to the nasty habit of devouring their deceased -fathers; but it is not uncommon for others, as well as for Irish sons, -to devour, at least, their parents’ substance, even at the present day. -The food of an Irish child was certainly illustrative of character,--we -should rather say that the solemnity of offering the first food to a -child was characteristic. Caius Julius Solinus, a writer of the first -century, says, that “when a Hibernian mother gives birth to a male -child, she puts its first food on the point of her husband’s sword, and -lightly inserts this foretaste of meat into the mouth of the infant, -on its very tip; and, by family vows, desires that it may never die -but under arms.” In other words, the relations wished that the little -stranger might never be in want of a row, when disposed to distinguish -the family name! - -In the days of Julius Cæsar, our stalwart sires supported their thews -and sinews on milk and flesh,--the diet of a pugilist. We see how much -progress was made by the time of Constantine,--the Constantine that was -crowned in Britain,--“when,” says a contemporary writer, “the harvests -sufficed alike for the gifts of Ceres and Bacchus, and the pastures -were covered with innumerable multitudes of tame flocks, distended with -milk, or laden with fleeces.” - -I very much fear, however, notwithstanding the rather poetical accounts -of certain early writers, that our aboriginal ancestry were very little -superior to the New Zealanders. They were, perhaps, more uncivilized, -and quite as ignorant; and their abstinence from the flesh of hares and -poultry, and, in the northern parts of the island, from fish, bespeaks -a race who lacked, at once, industry and knowledge. Indeed, it is by no -means certain, that we do not wrong the New Zealanders by suggesting -their possible inferiority to the Britons, seeing that the latter -are very strongly suspected of being guilty of the most revolting -cannibalism. - -They were clever enough to brew mead and ale; but wine and civilization -were brought to them by their enemies, the Romans,--invaders whom, for -some reasons, they might have welcomed with a sentiment akin to the -line in Béranger:-- - - “_Vivent nos amis! nos amis, les ennemis!_” - -They ate but twice a day. The last meal was the more important one. -Their seats were skins, or bundles of hay, flung on the ground. The -table was a low stool, around which British Chiefs sat, and, even in -the locality occupied by modern Belgravia, tore their food with teeth -and nails, or hacked at it with a wretched knife, as bad as any thing -of the sort now in common use in Gaul. In short, they committed a -thousand solecisms, the very idea of which is sufficient to make the -Sybarites of Belgravia very much ashamed of their descent from the -savages of Britain. - -It was characteristic of the sort of civilization which the -Anglo-Saxons brought with them to England, that they introduced the -rather vulgar custom of taking four meals a day. The custom was, -however, one solemnly observed by the high-feeding nobility of the -Saxons. They ate good solid joints of flesh-meat, boiled, baked, or -broiled. It would seem, that, in those days, cooks were not of such -an illustrious guild as that which they subsequently formed. A cook -among the Anglo-Saxons was little more accounted of than the calf -he cut up into collops. The cook, in fact, was a slave; and was as -unceremoniously bequeathed by his owner, in the latter’s last will -and testament, as though the culinary artist had been a mere kitchen -utensil. At Saxon tables, both sexes sat together,--a custom refined -in itself, refining in its effects, and of such importance, that -half-a-dozen nations claim the honour of being the inventors of that -excellent custom. In Europe, Turkey alone has obstinately refused to -follow this civilizing example; and Turkey is falling to pieces. It -may, therefore, be logically proved, that where table rights are not -conceded to the ladies, nations slowly perish; and--“serve them right.” - -It is a mark of Anglo-Saxon delicacy, that table-cloths were features -at Anglo-Saxon feasts; but, as the long ends were used in place of -napkins, the delicacy would be of a somewhat dirty hue, if the cloth -were made to serve at a second feast. There was a rude sort of display -upon the board; but the order of service was of a quality that would -strike the “Jeameses” of the age of Victoria with inexpressible -disgust. The meat was never “dished,” and “covers” were as yet unknown. -The attendants brought the viands into the dining hall on the spits, -knelt to each guest, presented the spit to his consideration; and, -the guest having helped himself, the attendant went through the same -ceremony with the next guest. Hard drinking followed upon these same -ceremonies; and even the monasteries were not exempt from the sins -of gluttony and drunkenness. Notwithstanding these bad habits, the -Anglo-Saxons were a cleanly people. The warm bath was in general use. -Water, for hands and feet, was brought to every stranger on entering a -house wherein he was about to tarry and feed; and, it is said that one -of the severest penances of the Church was the temporary denial of the -bath, and of cutting the hair and nails. - -With the Normans came greater grandeur and increased discomfort. They -neither knew nor tolerated the use of table-cloths or plain steel -forks; but their bill of fare showed more variety and costliness -than the Saxons cared for. Their cookery was such an improvement on -that of their predecessors in the island, that Norman French, and -Norman dishes, flung the Saxon tongue and table into the annihilating -position of “vulgarity.” The art was so much esteemed, that Monarchs -even granted estates, on condition that the holder thereof should, -through his cook, prepare a certain dish at stated periods, and set -it before the King. It was under the Normans that the boar’s head -had regal honours paid it; and its progress from the kitchen to the -banquet was under escort of a guard, and behind the deafening salutes -of puffy-cheeked trumpeters. The crane was then what the goose is -now,--highly esteemed; yet labouring under the shadow of a suspicion -of being “common.” The peacock, on the other hand, was only seen, tail -and all, at the tables of the wealthy. Their beverage was of a very -bilious character,--spicy and cordialed; namely, hippocras, piment, -morat, and mead. The drink of the humbler classes partook of a more -choleraic quality. It consisted of cider, perry, and ale. The Norman -maxim for good living and plenty of it, was to “rise at five, dine at -nine, sup at five, and bed at nine, if you’d live to a hundred all -but one.” _Dinner_ at nine is, however, a contradiction of terms; for -_dinner_, as I have said, is the abbreviation of _dixième heure_, or -“ten o’clock,” the time at which all people sat down to a solid repast -in the days of the first Williams. - -In the two following centuries, cooks and Kings launched into far -greater magnificence than had ever, hitherto, been seen in England. -Richard II. entertained ten thousand guests daily at his numerous -tables; and the exceedingly fast Earl of Leicester, grandson of the -equally slow Henry III., is said to have spent twenty-two thousand -pounds of silver in one year, in eating, alone. His thirsty household -retainers drank no less than three hundred and seventy-one pipes of -wine, in the same space of time. At great banquets, the dishes were -reckoned by thousands, and Kings in vain dictated decrees denouncing -such dinners; for cooks and _convives_ considered them with contempt. -As a show of moderation, the old four meals a day were now reduced to -two; but these two were connected by such a savoury chain of intermeats -and refections, that the board was spread all day long, and guests were -never weary:-- - - “Their life like the life of the Germans would be, - _Du lit à la table; de la table au lit_.” - -To have things “brennying like wildfire,” was the characteristic of -the cookery of the period. Confectionery of the richest sorts were -the lighter materials of meals, which were abundantly irrigated by -hippocras, piment, or _claret_, or the simpler and purer wines of -France, Spain, Syria, and Greece. Thus might a host say:-- - - “Ye shall have rumney and malespine, - Both ypocrasse and vernage wine; - Mountrasse and wyne of Greke, - Both algrade and despice eke, - Antioche and bastarde, - Pyment also and garnarde, - Wyne of Greke and muscadell, - Both clary, pyment, and Rochelle.” - -Ricobaldi of Ferrara, writing, about the year 1300, of the Italian -social condition in the age of Frederick II., illustrates the former -rudeness of the Italian manners, by showing that in those days “a man -and his wife ate off the same plate. There were no wooden-handled -knives, nor more than one or two drinking-cups in a house. Candles of -wax or tallow were unknown; a servant held a torch during supper. The -clothes of men were of leather unlined; scarcely any gold or silver -was seen on their dress. The common people ate flesh but three times a -week, and kept their cold meat for supper. Many did not drink wine in -summer. A small stock of corn seemed riches. The portions of women were -small; their dress, even after marriage, was simple. The pride of men -was to be well provided with arms and horses; that of the nobility to -have lofty towers, of which all the cities in Italy were full. But now, -frugality has been changed for sumptuousness; every thing exquisite is -sought after in dress,--gold, silver, pearls, silks, and rich furs.” - -The Household-Book of the Earl of Northumberland admirably illustrates -the interior and table life of the greater nobles of the period of -Henry VII. In this well-known and well-kept record, the family is -described as consisting of one hundred and sixty-six persons, masters -and servants; and hospitable reckoning is allowed for more than half -a hundred strangers who are expected daily to partake of the Earl’s -good cheer. The cost for each individual, for board and fuel, is -settled at twopence halfpenny daily, about one and sixpence of our -present money, if we take into account the relative value of money, -and the relative prices of provisions. The Earl allots for his annual -expenditure £1178. 17_s._ 8_d._ More than two-thirds of this is -consumed in meat, drink, and firing; namely, £797. 11_s._ 2_d._ The -book carefully states the number of pieces which the carver is to cut -out of each quarter of beef, mutton, veal, pork, nay, even stockfish -and salmon; and supervising clerks were appointed to see that this -was carried into effect, and to make due entry of the same in their -registers. An absent servant’s share is to be accounted for, and not -to be divided among the rest. The absentee, if he be on “my Lord’s” -business, received 8_d._ per day, board wages, in winter, and 5_d._ in -summer; with 2_d._ additional daily for the keep of a horse. A little -more than a quarter of wheat, estimated at 5_s._ 8_d._ per quarter, is -allowed for every month throughout the year; with this, 250 quarters -of malt, at 4_s._, (two hogsheads to the quarter,) and producing about -a bottle and a third of intermediate beer to each person, does not say -much for the liberality of the Lord, though it may for the temperance -of his retainers. One hundred and nine fat beeves are to be bought at -All-Hallow’s Tide, at 13_s._ 4_d._ each; a couple of dozen of lean -kine, at 8_s._, are to be bought at St. Helen’s, to be fattened for -service between Midsummer and Michaelmas. All the rest of the year, -nine weary months, the family was on salted provisions, to aid the -digestion of which, the Earl, so chary of his liquor, allows the -profuse aid of one hundred and sixty-six gallons of mustard. 647 sheep -at 1_s._ 8_d._, to be eaten salted between Lammas and Michaelmas; -25 hogs at 2_s._, 28 calves at 1_s._ 8_d._, 40 lambs at 10_d._ or -1_s._,--are other articles which seem to have been reserved rather for -the upper table than for the servants, whose chief fare was salted -beef, without vegetables, but with mustard _à discretion_! There was -great scarcity of linen, and the little there was, except that for the -chapel, not often washed. No mention is made of sheets; and though -“my Lord’s” table had eight “table-cloths” for the year, that of the -Knights had but one, and probably went uncovered while the cloth was -“at the wash.” If the ale was limited, the wine appears to have been -more liberally dispensed; and ten tuns and two hogsheads of Gascony -wine, at £4. 13_s._ 4_d._ per tun, show the bent of the Earl’s taste. -Ninety-one dozens of candles for the year, and no fires after Lady-Day, -except half-fires in the great room and the nursery; twenty-four fires, -with a peck of coals daily for each, (for the offices,) and eighty -chaldrons of coals, at 4_s._ 10_d._, with sixty-four loads of wood, -at 1_s._ a load,--are the provisions made for lighting and firing. -It must have been cold work to live in the noble Earl’s house in -Yorkshire, from Lady-Day till the warm summer came; which advent is -sometimes put off till next year. The family rose at six, or before; -for Mass was especially ordered at that hour, in order to force the -household to rise early. The dinner hour was ten A.M.; four P.M. was -the hour for supper; and at nine the bell rang for bed. I have omitted -the breakfast, which took place at seven, after Mass; when my Lord and -Lady sat down to a repast of two pieces of salt fish, and half-a-dozen -red herrings, with four fresh ones, or a dish of sprats, and a quart -of beer, and the same measure of wine. This was on meagre days. At -other seasons, half a chine of mutton, or of boiled beef, graced -the board of the delicate Earl and Countess, who sometimes forgot -that they had to dine at ten. Capons, at 2_d._ each, were only on the -Lord’s table, and plovers, at a penny, (at Christmas,) were deemed too -good for any digestion that was not carried on in a “noble” stomach. -Game generally is specified, but without intimation as to limit of -the board. No doubt the fragments were not rejected at the servants’ -table; but much certainly went in doles at the gate. My Lord maintained -between twenty and thirty horses for his own use. His mounted servants -found their own; but their keep was at the noble master’s cost. Of -mounted servants, not less than three dozen attended their Lord on -a journey; and when this journey was for change of residence from -one mansion to another, the illustrious Percy carried with him bed -and bedding, household furniture, pots, pans, and kitchen utensils -generally. The baggage waggon bore these _impedimenta_; and before and -behind them went chiefs and serving men, including in the array eleven -Priests,--two hundred and twenty-three persons in all,--and only two -cooks to look after their material happiness! No notice is taken of -plate; but the “hiring of pewter vessels” is mentioned; and with these -rough elements did the Earl construct his imperfect social system, so -far taking care for his soul as well as his body, inasmuch as that he -contributed a groat a year to the shrine of our Lady of Walsingham, and -the same magnificent sum to the holy blood at Hales, on the express -condition of the interest of the Virgin for the promotion of the future -welfare of the Earl in heaven. Such is an outline of a nobleman’s -household in the good old days of Henry VII. - -In the reign of the same King, fish was a scarce article, and for a -singular reason; namely, people destroyed them at an unlawful season, -for the purpose of feeding their pigs or manuring the ground. The -favourite wine at table was Malmsey: it came from Candy; and there was -a legal restriction against its costing more than four pounds per butt. -In this reign our cooks wrought at fires made with wood imported from -Gascony and Languedoc, whence also much wine was brought, but, by law, -only in English bottoms. The richest man of this reign was Sir William -Stanley, into whose hands fell nearly all the spoil of Bosworth Field; -and therewith he maintained a far more princely house and table than -his master. - -In Pegge’s “_Cury_” there is an account of the rolls of provisions, -with their prices, in the time of Henry VIII.; and we find that, at the -dinner given at the marriage of Gervase Clifton and Mary Nevile, the -price of three hogsheads of wine (one white, one red, one claret) was -set down at £5. 5_s._ - -The dining-rooms--and, indeed, these were the common living rooms in -the greatest houses--were still uncomfortable places. The walls were -of stone, partially concealed by tapestry hung upon timber hooks, -and taken down whenever the family removed, (leaving bare the stone -walls,) lest the damp should rot it. It was a fashion that had lasted -for centuries; but it began to disappear when mansions ceased to be -fortresses. The tapestry, it may be observed, was suspended on a -wooden frame projecting from the wall, between which and the hangings -there was a passage wide enough to kill a man, as Hamlet did Polonius, -“behind the arras.” It was not till the reign of Charles I. that houses -were built with underground rooms; the pantry, cellars, kitchens, and -store-rooms were, previous to this reign, all on the ground floor; and -the officials presiding in each took there, respectively, their solemn -post on great days of state-dinners. There were certain days when the -contents of these several offices, meat and drink, were bountifully -supplied to every applicant. To revert to tapestry: we see the time of -its change, in the speech of Falstaff, who wishes his hostess to sell -her tapestry, and adopt the cheaper painted canvas which came from -Holland. - -At this time, and, indeed, long after, our English yeomanry and -tradesmen were more anxious to invigorate their bodies by a generous -diet, than to dwell in well-furnished houses, or to find comfort in -cleanliness and elegance. “These English,” said the Spaniards who came -over with Philip II., “have their houses made of sticks and dirt; but -they fare commonly as well as the King.” - -Previous to the age of Elizabeth, even the Monarch, well as he might -fare, and gloriously as he shone in pageants, was but simply lodged. -The furniture of the bed-room of Henry VIII. was of the very simplest; -and the magnificent Wolsey was content with deal for the material -of most of the furniture of his palace. But the community generally -was, from this period, both boarded and bedded more comfortably and -refinedly than before. The hours for meals were eight, noon, and six; -but “after-meats,” and “after-suppers,” filled up the intervals. It was -chiefly at the “after-supper” that wine was used. The dinner, however, -had become the principal meal of the day. It was abundant; but the -jester and harper were no longer tolerated at it, with their lively -sauce of mirth and music. It was the fashion to be sad, and ceremonious -dinners were celebrated in stately silence, or a dignified _sotto -voce_. Each guest took his place according to a properly marshalled -order of precedence; and, before sitting down to dinner, they washed -with rose-water and perfumes, like the parochial boards of half a -century ago, who used also to deduct the expenses of both dinners and -rose-water from the rates levied for the relief of the poor; this, too, -at a time when men who were _not_ parish authorities were being hanged -for stealing to the amount of a few shillings. - -By the reign of Elizabeth, napkins had been added to table-cloths. The -wealthy ate the manchet, or fine wheaten bread; the middle classes -were content with a bread of coarser quality called “_chete_;” and the -ravelled, brown, or _maslin_ bread was consumed by those who could -afford to procure no better. There was a passion for strong wines at -this time. Of this, France sent more than half a hundred different -sorts, and thirty-six various kinds were imported from other parts of -Europe. About 30,000 tuns were imported yearly, exclusive of what the -nobility imported _free of duty_. The compound wines were in great -request; and ladies did not disdain to put their lips to distilled -liquors, such as _rosa-solis_ and _aqua-vitæ_. Ale was brewed stronger -than these distillations; and our ancestors drank thereof to an extent -that is terrific only to think of. Camden ascribes the prevailing -drunkenness to the long wars in the Netherlands, previous to which, we -had been held, “of all the northern nations, the most commended for -sobriety.” The barbarous terms formerly used in drinking matches, are -all of Dutch, German, or Danish origin, and this serves to confirm -Camden’s assertion. The statutes passed to correct the evil were -disregarded. James I. was particularly desirous to enforce these -statutes; but his chief difficulty lay in the fact, that he was the -first to infringe them. - -In Elizabeth’s reign the “watching candles” of Alfred (to mark the -time) were in use in many houses. This is a curious trait of in-door -life. We have an “exterior” one, in the fact that the Vicar of Hurly, -who served Maidenhead, had an addition of stipend on account of the -danger he ran, in crossing the thicket, when he passed to or from the -church--and his inn. It was not a delicate period, and if caraways -always appeared at dessert, every one knew that they were there for -the kind purpose of curing expected flatulence in the guests. - -In James the First’s reign, the fashion of Malmsey had passed away, -and the Hungarian red wine (_Ofener_) had taken its place. It came by -Breslau to Hamburg, where it was shipped to England. It is a strong -wine, and bears some resemblance to port. - -In country-houses in the seventeenth century, the Knight or Squire -was head of a host of retainers, three-fourths of whom consumed the -substance of the master on whose estate they were born, without -rendering him much other service than drinking his ale, eating his -beef, and wearing his livery. Brief family prayers, and heavy family -breakfasts, a run with the hounds, and an early dinner, followed by -long and heavy drinking, till supper-time, when more feeding and -imbibing went on until each man finished his posset, or carried it -with him to bed,--such was the ordinary course: but it admitted of -exceptions where the master was a man of intellect, and then the -country-house was a temple of hospitality rather than of riot; and good -sense and ripe wit took the place of the sensuality, obscurity, and -ignorance that distinguished the boards where the Squire was simply a -“brute.” - -Of the table traits of this century, the best examples are to be found -in Pepys and Evelyn. In the Diary of the former, may be seen what a -jolly tavern life could be led by a grave official, and no scandal -given. Evelyn takes us into better company. We find him at the Spanish -Ambassador’s, when his Excellency, by way of dessert, endeavoured to -convert him to the Roman Catholic Church. We go with him to the feast -where the Envoy from the Emperor of Morocco figured as so civilized a -gentleman, while the representative of the Czar of Muscovy comported -himself like a rude clown; and we dine with him at Lady Sunderland’s, -where the noble hostess had engaged, for the amusement of the guests, -a man who swallowed stones, and who not only performed the feat in -presence of the company, but convinced them there was no cheat, by -making the stones rattle in his stomach. But, _nous avons changé tout -cela_, and not only changed in taste, but improved in manners. - -Pepys gives a curious account of a Lord Mayor’s dinner in 1663. It was -served in the Guildhall, at one o’clock in the day. A bill of fare -was placed with every salt-cellar, and at the end of each table was a -list of “the persons proper” there to be seated. Here is a mixture of -abundance and barbarism. “Many were the tables, but none in the hall, -but the Mayor’s and the Lords’ of the Privy Council, _that had napkins -or knives_, which was very strange. I sat at the merchant-strangers’ -table, where ten good dishes to a mess, with plenty of wine of all -sorts; but it was very unpleasing that we had no napkins, nor change -of trenchers, and drank out of earthen pitchers and wooden dishes. -The dinner, it seems, is made by the Mayor and two Sheriffs for the -time being, and the whole is reckoned to come to £700 or £800 at -most.” Pepys took his spoon and fork with him, as was the custom -of those days with guests invited to great entertainments. “Forks” -came in with Tom Coryat, in the reign of James I.; but they were not -“familiar” till after the Restoration. The “laying of napkins,” as -it was called, was a profession of itself. Pepys mentions, the _day -before_ one of his dinner-parties, that he went home, and “there found -one laying of my napkins against to-morrow, in figures of all sorts, -which is mighty pretty, and, it seems, is his trade, and he gets much -money by it.” The age of Pepys, we may further notice, was the great -“supping age.” Pepys himself supped heartily on venison pasty; but his -occasional “next morning” remark was like that of Scrub: “My head -aches consumedly!” The dashing Duchess of Cleveland supped off such -substantials as roast chine of beef; much more solid fare than that of -the Squires in a succeeding reign, who were content, with Sir Roger de -Coverley, to wind up the day with “good Cheshire cheese, best mustard, -a golden pippin, and a pipe of John Sly’s best.” - -A few years earlier, Laud had leisure to write anxiously to Strafford -on the subject of Ulster eels. “Your Ulster eels are the fattest and -fairest that ever I saw, and it’s a thousand pities there should be -any error in their salting, or any thing else about them; for how the -carriage should hurt them I do not see, considering that other salted -eels are brought as far, and retain their goodness; but the dried fish -was exceeding good.” There was a good deal of error in the preserving -of other things besides eels, if Laud had only known as much. - -It may be mentioned as something of a “Table Trait,” illustrating the -popular appetite in the reign of Charles II., that he sent sea stores -to the people encamped in Moorfields; but they were so well provisioned -by the liberality of the nation, that they turned up their noses at -the King’s biscuits, and sent them back, “not having been used to the -same.” There was some ungrateful impertinence in this; but there was -less meanness in it than was shown by the great ladies of Queen Anne’s -reign, who were curious in old china, and who indulged their passion by -“swopping” their old clothes for fragile cups and saucers, instead of -giving the former to the poor. - -Dryden speaks, in the Preface to his “Love Triumphant,” of a remarkable -trait of the time of William III. “It is the usual practice,” he says, -“of our decayed gentry, to look about them for some illustrious family, -and then endeavour to fix their young darling, where he may be both -well educated and supported.” - -Shaftesbury reveals to us an illustration of George the First’s reign. -“In latter days,” he says, “it has become the fashion to eat with -less ceremony and method. Every one chooses to carve for himself. The -learned manner of dissection is out of request; and a certain method -of cookery has been introduced, by which the anatomical science of -the table is entirely set aside. _Ragoûts_ and _fricassées_ are the -reigning dishes, in which every thing is so dismembered, and thrown out -of all order and form, that no part of the mess can properly be divided -or distinguished from another.” But we have come to a period that -demands a chapter to itself; and even with that implied space, we can -hardly do justice to the Table Traits of the Last Century. - - - - -TABLE TRAITS OF THE LAST CENTURY. - - -When Mr. Chute intimated to Horace Walpole that his “temperance diet -and milk” had rendered him stupid, Walpole protested pleasantly against -such an idea. “I have such lamentable proofs,” he says, “every day, of -the stupifying qualities of beef, ale, and wine, that I have contracted -a most religious veneration for your spiritual nouriture. Only imagine -that I here, (Houghton,) every day, see men who are mountains of roast -beef, and only seem just roughly hewn out into the outlines of human -form, like the giant rock at Pratolino! I shudder when I see them -brandish their knives, in act to carve, and look on them as savages -that devour one another. I should not stare at all more than I do, if -yonder Alderman, at the end of the table, was to stick his fork into -his jolly neighbour’s cheek, and cut a brave slice of brown and fat. -Why, I’ll swear I see no difference between a country gentleman and a -sirloin: whenever the first laughs, or the latter is cut, there run out -just the same streams of gravy! Indeed, the sirloin does not ask quite -so many questions. I have an aunt here, a family piece of goods, an old -remnant of inquisitive hospitality and economy, who, to all intents and -purposes, is as beefy as her neighbours.” - -Certainly, I think it may be considered that, in diet and in -principles, we have improved upon the fashion of one hundred and -ten years ago;--and, perhaps, the improvement in principles is a -consequence of that in diet. There was a profound meaning in the point -of faith of some old religionists, that the stomach was the seat of -the soul. However this may be, the “beefy” men of Walpole’s time had, -occasionally, strange ideas touching honour. Old Nourse, for instance, -challenged Lord Windsor, who refused to fight him, either with sword or -pistols, on the plea that Nourse was too aged a man. Thereupon Nourse, -in a fit of vexation and indigestion, went home from the coffee-house -and cut his throat! “It was strange, yet very English,” says Walpole. -Old Nourse must have had Japanese blood in him. At Jeddo, when a -nobleman feels himself slighted, he walks home, takes the sharpest -knife he can find, and rips himself open, from the _umbilicus_ to the -_trachea_! - -Quite as certainly, strong diet and weak principles prevailed among -our great-grandsires and their dames. Lady Townshend fell in love with -the rebel Lord Kilmarnock, from merely seeing him at his trial. She -forthwith cast off her old lover, Sir Harry Nisbett, and became “as -yellow as a jonquil” for the new object of her versatile affection. -She even took a French master, in order that she might forget the -language of “the bloody English!” She was not so afflicted, but that -she could bear the company of gay George Selwyn to dine with her; and -he, believing that her passion was feigned, joked with her, on what -was always a favourite topic with himself,--the approaching execution. -Lady Townshend forthwith rushed from the table in rage and tears, and -Mr. Selwyn finished the bottle with “Mrs. Dorcas, her woman,” who -begged of him to help her to a sight of the execution! Mrs. Dorcas had -a friend who had promised to protect her, and, added she, “I can lie -in the Tower the night before!” This is a pretty dining-room interior -of the last century. As for George Selwyn, that most celebrated of -the diners-out of a hundred years ago, he said the pleasantest thing -possible at dessert, after the execution of Lord Lovat. Some ladies -asked him how he could be such a barbarian as to see the head cut -off. “Nay,” said he, “if that was such a crime, I am sure I have made -amends; for I went to see it sewed on again!” “George,” says Walpole, -“never thinks but _à la tête tranchée_; he came to town t’other -day to have a tooth drawn, and told the man that he would drop his -handkerchief for the signal.” - -Selwyn kept his powers bright by keeping good company; while Gray the -poet was but indifferent society, from living reclusely, added to a -natural turn for melancholy, and “a little too much dignity.” Young, -a greater poet than Gray, was as brilliant in conversation as Selwyn -himself, as long as, like Selwyn, he polished his wit by contact with -the world. When he dined with Garrick, Quin, and George Anne Bellamy, -he was the sprightliest of the four; but when he took to realizing -the solitude he had epically praised, Young, too, became a proser. -Quin loved good living as much as he did sparkling conversation; and -Garrick, the other guest noticed above, has perfectly delineated Quin -the epicure in the following epigram, as he subsequently did Quin, the -man and brother of men, in his epitaph in Bath Abbey:-- - - “A plague on Egypt’s art! I say; - Embalm the dead, on senseless clay - Rich wines and spices waste! - Like sturgeon, or like brawn, shall I, - Bound in a precious pickle, lie, - Which I shall never taste? - - “Let me embalm this flesh of mine - With turtle fat and Bordeaux wine, - And spoil th’ Egyptian trade. - Than Humphrey’s Duke more happy I; - Embalm’d alive, old Quin shall die, - A mummy, ready-made.” - -A good many female mummies were prepared during the last century after -a similar receipt. Witness Walpole’s neighbour at Strawberry Hill, “an -attorney’s wife, and much given to the bottle. By the time she has -finished that and daylight, she grows afraid of thieves, and makes -her servants fire minute-guns out of the garret windows. The divine -Asheton,” he proceeds, “will give you an account of the astonishment we -were in last night at hearing guns. I began to think that the Duke (of -Cumberland) had brought some of his defeats from Flanders.” - -Young denounces, in his “Satires,” both tea and wine, as abused by the -fair sex of the last century. In Memmia he paints Lady Betty Germain, -in the lines I have quoted under the head of “Tea;” and then, hurling -his shafts of satire at that which another poet has described as “cups -which cheer, but not inebriate,” he adds,-- - - “Tea! how I tremble at thy fatal stream! - As Lethe, dreadful to the love of fame. - What devastations on thy banks are seen! - What shades of mighty names which once have been! - A hecatomb of characters supplies - Thy painted altar’s daily sacrifice. - Hervey, Pearce, Blount, aspersed by thee, decay, - As grains of finest sugars melt away, - And recommend thee more to mortal taste: - Scandal’s the sweetener of a female feast.” - -And then, adverting to the ladies who, like Walpole’s “attorney’s -wife,” were much given to the bottle, the poet exclaims,-- - - “But this inhuman triumph shall decline, - And thy revolting Naiads call for wine; - Spirits no longer shall serve under thee, - But reign in thy own cup, exploded Tea! - Citronia’s nose declares thy ruin nigh; - And who dares give Citronia’s nose the lie? - The ladies long at men of drink exclaim’d, - And what impair’d both health and virtue blamed. - At length, to rescue man, the generous lass - Stole from her consort the pernicious glass. - As glorious as the British Queen renown’d, - Who suck’d the poison from her husband’s wound.” - -Manners and morals generally go hand in hand; but those of the ladies -satirized by Young were not so bad as those of the French Princesses -of a few years before, when they and Duchesses were so addicted to -drinking, that no one thought it a vice, since royalty and aristocracy -practised it. The Dauphine of Burgundy is indeed praised by her -biographers as not drinking to any great excess during the three last -years of her life. But this was exceptional. The Duchess of Bourbon -and her daughters drank like dragoons; but the latter were unruly -in their cups, whereas the old lady carried her liquor discreetly. -Henrietta, Madame de Montespan, and the Princess di Monaco, were all -addicted, more or less, to tippling. The Duchess de Bourbon and Her -Grace of Chartres added smoking to their other boon qualities; and the -Dauphin once surprised them with pipes which had been _cullotés_ for -them by common soldiers of the Swiss Guard! In France, devotion even -was made a means towards drunkenness. Bungener tells us, in his “_Trois -Sermons sous Louis XV._,” that Monsieur Basquiat de la House owned a -small estate in Gascony, which produced a wine which no one would buy. -Being at Rome, as Secretary of an Embassy, he procured a body from the -catacombs, which he christened by the name of a saint venerated in his -part of the country. The people received it with great pomp. A _fête_ -was appointed by the Pope, a fair by the Government, and the wine was -sold by hogsheads! It was a wine as thin as the beverage which Mr. -Chute lived on when he had the gout, at which time, says Walpole, “he -keeps himself very low, and lives upon very thin ink.” - -There was a good deal of latitude of observation and conversation at -the dinner-tables of the last century; and the letter-writer I have -just cited affords us ample evidence of the fact. John Stanhope, of the -Admiralty, he informs us, “was sitting by an old Mr. Curzon, a nasty -wretch, and very covetous; his nose wanted blowing, and continued to -want it; at last Mr. Stanhope, with the greatest good breeding, said, -‘Indeed, Sir, if you don’t wipe your nose, you will lose that drop.’” - -A hundred years ago, Walpole remarked that Methodism, drinking, and -gambling were all on the increase. Of the first he sneeringly says, -“It increases as fast as any religious nonsense did.” Of the second he -remarks, “Drinking is at the highest wine-mark;” and he speaks of the -third as being so violent, that “at the last Newmarket meeting, in the -rapidity of both gaming and drinking, a bank bill was thrown down, and, -nobody immediately claiming it, they agreed to give it to a man who was -standing by!” - -There was a love of good eating, as well as of deep drinking, even -among the upper classes of the last century. What a picture of a -Duchess is that of her Grace of Queensberry, posting down to Parson’s -Green, to tell Lady Sophia Thomas “something of importance;” namely, -“Take a couple of beefsteaks, clap them together as if they were for -a dumpling, and eat them with pepper and salt: it is the best thing -you ever tasted! I could not help coming to tell you this;”--and then -she drove back to town. And what a picture of a Magistrate is that of -Fielding, seated at supper with a blind man, a Drury-Lane Chloris, -and three Irishmen, all eating cold mutton and ham from one dish, on -a very dirty cloth, and “his worship” refusing to rise to attend to -the administration of Justices’ justice! It is but fair, however, to -Fielding to add, that he might have had better fare had he been more -oppressive touching fees. And, besides, great dignitaries set him but -an indifferent example. Gray, speaking of the Duke of Newcastle’s -installation at Oxford, remarks, that “every one was very gay and very -busy in the morning, and very owlish and very tipsy at night. I make -no exceptions, from the Chancellor to Blewcoat.” Lord Pembroke, truly, -was temperate enough to live upon vegetables; but the diet did not -improve either his temper or his morals. Ladies--and they were not over -delicate a century ago--as much dreaded sitting near him at dinner, as -their daughters and grand-daughters dreaded to be near the late Duke -of Cumberland, who was pretty sure to say something in the course of -dinner expressly to embarrass them. The vegetarian Lord Pomfret was so -blasphemous at tennis, that the Primate of Ireland, Dr. George Stone, -was compelled to leave off playing with him. For Primates handled the -rackets then, as Pope and Cardinals do now the cue. Pio Nono and the -expertest of the Sacred College play _la poule_ at billiards, after -dinner, with the view of keeping down the good Pontiff’s obesity. This -is almost as curious a trait as that of Taafe, the Irishman, who, -conceiving himself to have been insulted at a dinner, and not being -then able, as a Roman Catholic, to wear a sword, changed his religion, -and ran his adversary through the body. The confusion of ideas which -prompted a man to follow a particular faith, in order that he might -commit murder, was something like that which influenced the poor woman -who, suddenly becoming pious, after hearing a sermon from Rowland Hill, -went to a book-stall, and stole a Bible. - -I have noticed the love of good eating, and the coarseness connected -with it. There was also a coarse economy attendant on it. The -Duchess of Devonshire would call out to the Duke, when both were -presiding at supper after one of their assemblies, “Good God, Duke! -don’t cut the ham; nobody will eat any;” and then she would relate -the circumstances of her private _ménage_ to her neighbour: “When -there’s only my Lord and I, besides a pudding, we have always a dish -of roast,”--no very dainty fare for a ducal pair. Indeed, there was -much want of daintiness, and of dignity, too, in many of those with -whom both might have been looked for as a possession. Lord Coventry -chased his Lady round the dinner-table, and scrubbed the paint off -her cheeks with a napkin. The Duke and Duchess of Hamilton were more -contemptible in their pomposity than their Graces of Devonshire were -in their plainness. At their own house they walked in to dinner before -their company, sat together at the upper end of their own table, ate -together off one plate, and drank to nobody beneath the rank of Earl. -It was, indeed, a wonder that they could get any one of any rank -to dine with them at all. But, in point of dinners, people are not -“nice” even now. Dukes very recently dined with a railway potentate, -in hopes of profiting by the condescension; and Duchesses heard, -without a smile, that potentate’s lady superbly dismiss them with an -“_au reservoir_!”--an expression, by the way, which is refined, when -compared with that taught by our nobility, a hundred years ago, to -the rich Bohemian Countess Chamfelt; namely, “D--n you!” and, “Kiss -me!” but it was apologetically said of her, that she never used the -former but upon the miscarriage of the latter. This was at a time when -vast assemblies were followed by vast suppers, vast suppers by vast -drinking, and when nymphs and swains reached home at dawn with wigs, -like Ranger’s in the comedy, vastly battered, and not very fit to be -seen. - -Pope, in the last century, moralized, with effect, on the deaths of -the dissolute Buckingham and the avaricious Cutler; and the avarice -of Sir John was perhaps more detestable than any extravagance that -is satirized by Pope, or witticized by Walpole. But Sir John Cutler -was ingenious in his thrift. This rich miser ordinarily travelled on -horseback and alone, in order to avoid expense. On reaching his inn at -night, he feigned indisposition, as an excuse for not taking supper. -He would simply order the hostler to bring a little straw to his room, -to put in his boots. He then had his bed warmed, and got into it, but -only to get out of it again as soon as the servant had left the room. -Then, with the straw in his boots and the candle at his bed-side, he -kindled a little fire, at which he toasted a herring which he drew from -his pocket. This, with a bit of bread which he carried with him, and a -little water from the jug, enabled the lord of countless thousands to -sup at a very moderate cost. - -Well, this sordidness was less culpable perhaps than slightly -overstepping income by giving assemblies and suppers. At the latter -there was, at least, wit, and as much of it as was ever to be found at -Madame du Deffand’s, where, by the way, the people did _not_ sup. “Last -night, at my Lady Hervey’s,” says Walpole, “Mrs. Dives was expressing -great panic about the French,” who were said to be preparing to invade -England. “My Lady Rochford, looking down on her fan, said, with great -softness, ‘I don’t know; I don’t think the French are a sort of people -that women need be afraid of.’” This was more commendable wit than that -of Madame du Deffand herself, who, as I have previously remarked, made -a whole assembly laugh, at Madame de Marchais’, when her old lover was -known to be dying, by saying as she entered, “He is gone; and wasn’t it -lucky? He died at six, or I could not possibly have shown myself here -to-night.” - -Our vain lady-wits, however, too often lacked refinement. “If I drink -any more,” said Lady Coventry at Lord Hertford’s table, “if I drink -any more, I shall be ‘muckibus.’” “Lord!” said Lady Mary Coke, “what -is that?” “O,” was the reply, “it is Irish for _sentimental_!” In -those days there were no wedding breakfasts: the nuptial banquet was -a dinner, and bride and bridegroom saw it out. Walpole congratulates -himself that, at the marriage of his niece Maria, “there was neither -form nor indecency, both which generally meet on such occasions. They -were married,” he adds, “at my brother’s in Pall Mall, just before -dinner, by Mr. Keppel; the company, my brother, his son, Mrs. Keppel -and Charlotte, Lady Elizabeth Keppel, Lady Betty Waldegrave, and I. -We dined there; the Earl and new Countess got into their post-chaise -at eight o’clock, and went to Navestock alone, where they stay till -Saturday night.” Walpole gives instances enough--and more than -enough--where matters did not go off so becomingly. Lords and Ladies -were terribly coarse in sentiment and expression; and the women were -often worse than the men. “Miss Pett,” says the writer whom I have so -often quoted, “has dismissed Lord Buckingham: _tant mieux pour lui_! -She damns her eyes that she will marry some Captain: _tant mieux pour -elle_.” This is a sample of Table Traits in 1760; and it was long -before manners and morals improved. The example was not of the best -sort even in high places. The mistress of Alfieri dined at Court, as -widow of the Pretender; and Madame du Barry was publicly feasted by our -potential Lord Mayor. - -Some of the women were not only coarse in speech, but furies in act, -and often sharpers to boot. Thus, when “Jemmy Lumley,” in 1761, had -a party of ladies at his house, with whom, after dinner, he played -whist, from six at night till noon the next day, he lost two thousand -pounds, which, suspecting knavery, he refused to pay. His antagonist, -Mrs. Mackenzie, subsequently pounced upon him in the garden of an -inn at Hampstead, where he was about to give a dinner to some other -ladies. The sturdy “Scotchwoman,” as Gray calls her, demanded her -money, and, on meeting with a refusal, she “horsewhipped, trampled, -bruised,” and served him with worse indignities still, as may be seen -by the curious, in Gray’s Letter to Warton. Lumley’s servants only with -difficulty rescued their master from the fury, who carried a horse-whip -beneath her hoop. The gentlemen do not appear to have been so generous, -in their character of lovers, as their French brethren, who ruined -themselves for “_les beaux yeux_” of some temporary idol. Miss Ford -laughed consumedly at Lord Jersey, for sending her (“an odd first and -only present to a beloved mistress”) a boar’s head, which, she says, “I -had often the honour to meet at your Lordship’s table before ... and -would have eat it, had it been eatable.” - -The public are pretty familiar with the Household-Book of the Earl of -Northumberland; and have learned much therefrom touching the Table -Traits of the early period in which it was written. A later Earl did -not inherit the spirit of organization which influenced his ancestor. -“I was to dine at Northumberland House,” says Walpole, in 1765, “and -went there a little after hour. There I found the Countess, Lady Betty -Mackinsy, Lady Strafford, my Lady Finlater,--who was never out of -Scotland before,--a tall lad of fifteen, her son, Lord Drogheda, and -Mr. Worseley. At five” (which is conjectured to have been the hour of -extreme fashion a century ago) “arrived Mr. Mitchell, who said the -Lords had commenced to read the Poor Bill, which would take, at least, -two hours, and, perhaps, would debate it afterwards. We concluded -dinner would be called for; it not being very precedented for ladies -to wait for gentlemen. No such thing! Six o’clock came,--seven o’clock -came,--our coaches came! Well, we sent them away; and excuses were, -we were engaged. Still, the Countess’s heart did not relent, nor -uttered a syllable of apology. We wore out the wind and the weather, -the opera and the play, Mrs. Cornely’s and Almack’s, and every topic -that would do in a formal circle. We hinted, represented--in vain. -The clock struck eight. My Lady, at last, said she would go and order -dinner; but it was a good half-hour before it appeared. We then sat -down to a table of fourteen covers; but, instead of substantials, -there was nothing but a profusion of plates, striped red, green, and -yellow,--gilt plate, blacks, and uniforms. My Lady Finlater, who never -saw those embroidered dinners, nor dined after three, was famished. -The first course stayed as long as possible, in hopes of the Lords; -so did the second. The dessert at last arrived, and the middle dish -was actually set on, when Lord Finlater and Mr. Mackay arrived! Would -you believe it?--the dessert was remanded, and the whole first course -brought back again! Stay--I have not done! Just as this second first -course had done its duty, Lord Northumberland, Lord Strafford, and -Mackinsy came in; and the whole began a third time. Then the second -course, and the dessert! I thought we should have dropped from our -chairs with fatigue and fumes. When the clock struck eleven, we were -asked to return to the drawing-room, and take tea and coffee; but I -said I was engaged to supper, and came home to bed!” This dinner may -be contrasted with another given, at a later period, by a member of -the same house. The Nobleman in question was an Earl Percy, who was -in Ireland with his regiment,--the Fifth Infantry; and who, after -much consideration, consented to give a dinner to the officers in -garrison at Limerick. The gallant, but cautious, Earl ordered the -repast at a tavern, specifying that it should be for fifty persons, at -eighteen-pence per head. The officers heard of the arrangement, and -they ordered the landlord to provide a banquet at a guinea _per_ head, -promising to pay the difference, in the event of their entertainer -declining to do so. When the banquet was served, there was but one -astonished and uncomfortable individual at the board; and that was -the Earl himself, who beheld a feast for the gods, and heard himself -gratefully complimented upon the excellence both of viands and wines. -The astonished Earl experienced an easily-understood difficulty in -returning thanks when his health was drunk with an enthusiasm that -bewildered him; and, on retiring early, he sought out the landlord, in -order to have a solution of an enigma that sorely puzzled him. Boniface -told the unadorned and unwelcome truth; and the inexperienced young -Earl, acknowledging his mistake, discharged the bill with a sigh on -himself, and a cheque on his banker. - -A host, after all, _may_ appear parsimonious without intending to -be so. “This wine,” said one of this sort to the late Mr. Pocock of -Bristol, who had been dining with him, “costs me six shillings a -bottle!” “Does it?” asked the guest, with a quaint look of gay reproof, -“then pass it round, and let me have another six-penn’orth!” - -But, to return to our Table Traits of the Last Century. In 1753, on -the 4th of June, there was an installation of Knights of the Garter, -at Windsor Castle, followed by a grand dinner, and a ball. It would -seem as if the public claimed the right of seeing the _spectacle_ -for which they had to pay; for we read that “the populace attempted -several times to force their way into the hall where the Knights were -at dinner, against the Guards, on which some were cut and wounded, and -the Guards fired several times on them, with powder, to deter them, but -without effect, till they had orders to load with ball, which made them -desist.” This is an ill-worded paragraph from the papers of the day; -but it is a graphic illustration of the manners of the period. - -These few samples of what society was in the last century, would -suffice alone to show that it was sadly out of joint. What caused it? -Any one who will take the trouble to go carefully through the columns -of the ill-printed newspapers of the early part of the last century, -will find that drunkenness, dissoluteness, and the sword hanging on -every fool’s thigh, ready to do his bidding, were the characteristics -of the period. People got drunk at dinners, and then slew one another, -or in some other way broke the law. Lord Mohun and Captain Hall dined -together before they made their attempt to carry off Mrs. Bracegirdle; -and when defeated in their Tarquin-like endeavour, they slaughtered -poor Will Montford, the player, in the public streets, for no better -reason than that Montford admired the lady, and Hall was jealous of the -admirer. But neither copious dining, nor copious drinking, could make -a brave man of Mohun. In proof of this, it is only necessary to state -that before he fought his butchering duel with the Duke of Hamilton, -he spent the previous night feasting and drinking at the Bagnio, which -place he left in the morning, with his second, Major-General M’Carty, -as the “Post-boy” remarks, “seized with fear and trembling.” “The dog -Mohun,” as Swift styled him, was slain, and so was the Duke; but it is -uncertain whether the latter fell by the hand of his adversary, or the -sword of that adversary’s second. A few years later we read of Fulwood, -the lawyer, going to the play after dinner, drawing upon Beau Fielding, -running him through, rushing in triumph to another house, meeting -another antagonist, and getting slain by him, without any one caring to -interfere. - -In one of the numbers of the “Daily Post” for 1726, I find it recorded -that a bevy of gallants, having joyously dined or supped together, -descended from a hackney-coach in Piccadilly, bilked the coachman, -beat him to a mummy, and stabbed his horses. Flushed with victory, -they rushed into a neighbouring public-house, drew upon the gallants, -terrified the ladies, and laughed at the mistress of the establishment, -who declared that they would bring down ruin upon a place noted for -“its safety and secrecy.” The succeeding paragraph in the paper -announces to the public that the Bishop of London will preach on the -following Sunday in Bow-church, Cheapside, on the necessity for a -reformation of manners! - -The Clubs, and especially the “Sword Clubs,” with their feastings and -fightings, were the chief causes that manners were as depraved as they -were. After supper, these Clubs took possession of the town, and held -their sword against every man, and found every man’s sword against -them. The “Bold Bucks,” and the “Hell-Fires,” divided the Metropolis -between them. The latter, a comparatively innocent association, found -their simple amusement in mutilating watchmen and citizens. The “Bold -Bucks” took for their devilish device, “Blind and Bold Love,” and, -under it, committed atrocities, the very thought of which makes the -heart of human nature palpitate with horror and disgust. No man could -become a member who did not denounce the claims both of nature and God! -They used to assemble every Sunday at a tavern, close to the church -of St. Mary-le-Strand. During divine service, they kept a noisy band -of horns and drums continually at work; and, after service, they sat -down to dinner, the principal dish at which was a “Holy-Ghost pie!” -Assuredly the sermon of the metropolitan Prelate was much needed; but, -when preached, reformation did but very slowly follow, especially in -high places. At the very end of the century we hear of the Prince of -Wales dining at the Duke of Queensberry’s, at Richmond, with the last -mistress of Louis XV.; and nobody appears to have been scandalized. And -this was the characteristic of the time: vice was not only general, -but it did not very seriously offend the few exceptional individuals. -For the first three quarters of the century the epitaph of that time -might have been taken from the eulogium passed by a May-Fair preacher -in his Funeral Sermon upon Frederick, Prince of Wales: “He had no great -parts, but he had great virtues; indeed, they degenerated into vices: -he was very generous; but I hear his generosity has ruined a great many -people; and then his condescension was such, that he kept very bad -company.” - -I have, elsewhere, spoken of some of the roystering Clubs of the last -century; but I cannot refrain from adding two other instances here, -as examples of the Table Traits of the same period. The Calves’-Head -Club established itself in Suffolk-Street, Charing Cross, on the -anniversary of the martyrdom of King Charles, in the year 1735. The -gentlemen members had an entertainment of calves’ heads, some of which -they showed to the mob outside, whom they treated with strong beer. -In the evening, they caused a bonfire to be made before the door, and -threw into it, with loud huzzas, a calf’s head, dressed up in a napkin. -They also dipped their napkins in red wine, and waved them from the -windows, at the same time drinking toasts publicly. The mob huzzaed, as -well as their fellow brutes of the Club; but, at length, to show their -superior refinement, they broke the windows; and at length became so -mischievous, that the Guards were called in to prevent further outrage. - -The above was, no doubt, a demonstration on the part of gentlemen of -republican principles. Some few years later, a different instance -occurs. The “Monthly Review,” May, 1757, mentions, that “seven -gentlemen dined at a house of public entertainment in London, and -were supposed to have run as great lengths in luxury and expense, if -not greater, than the same number of persons were ever known to do -before at a private regale. They afterwards played a game of cards, to -decide which of them should pay the bill. It amounted to £81. 11_s._ -6_d._; besides a turtle, which was a present to the company.” This was -certainly a heavy bill. A party of the same number at the Clarendon, -and with turtle charged in the bill, would, in our days, find exceeding -difficulty in spending more than £5 each. Their grandsires expended -more than twice as much for a dinner not half as good. - -It is only with the present century that old customs disappeared; -and, with regard to some of them, society is all the better for -their disappearance. Even plum-porridge did not survive the first -year of this half century; when the more solid and stable dynasty -of plum-pudding was finally established. Brand relates, that on -Christmas-Day, 1801, he dined at the Chaplain’s table, at St. James’s, -“and partook of the first thing served and eaten on that festival, at -that table, namely, a tureen full of rich, luscious plum-porridge. I -do not know,” he says, “that the custom is anywhere else retained.” -The great innovation, after this, was in the days of the Regent, when -oysters were served as a prelude to dinner. This fashion was adopted -by the Prince on the recommendation of a gentleman of his household, -the elder Mr. Watier, who brought it with him from France, and added -an “_experto crede_” to his recommendation. This fashion, however, -like others, has passed away; and oysters and drams, as overtures to -dinner, are things that have fallen into the domain of history. - -There is a custom of these later days, much observed at Christmas time, -which deserves a word of notice. I allude to the “Christmas-tree.” The -custom is one, however novel in England, of very ancient observance -elsewhere. Its birth-place is Egypt. The tree there used was the -palm; and the ceremony was in full force long before the days of -Antony and Cleopatra. The palm puts forth a fresh shoot every month. -Its periodical leaves appear as regularly as those of Mr. Bentley’s -“Miscellany.” In the time of the winter solstice, when parties were -given in ancient Misraim, a spray of this tree, with twelve shoots, -was suspended, to symbolize the completion of another year. The custom -passed into Italy, where the fir-tree was employed for the purposes -of celebration; and its pyramidal tips were decorated with burning -candles, in honour of Saturn. This festival, the _Saturnalia_, was -observed at the winter solstice, from the 17th to the 21st of December, -and, during its continuance, Davus was as good a man as Chremes. The -_Sigillaria_, days for interchanging presents of figures in wax, like -those on the Christmas-tree, followed; and, finally, the _Juvenalia_, -when men became “boys with boys,” matrons turned children once again, -and young and old indulged in the solemn romps with which the festival -closed, and which _used_ to mark our own old-fashioned festivities at -Christmas time. That the Egyptian tree passed into Germany, may be -seen in the pyramids which sometimes there are substituted for the -tree. But the antique northern mythology has supplied some of the -observances. The _Juel Fesi_ was the mid-winter “Wheel Feast;” and the -wheel represented the circling years which end but to begin again. The -yule-log, as we call it, was the wheel-shaped log; in front of which -was roasted the great boar,--an animal hateful to the god of the sun, -but the flesh of which was religiously eaten by his worshippers. At -this festival presents were made, which were concealed in wrappers, and -flung in at open windows, emblematical, we are told, of the good, but -as yet hidden, things which the opening year had in store. - -The Church generally made selection of the heathen festivals for its -own holy-days. In the early days, this was done chiefly to enable -Christians to be merry without danger to themselves. It would not -have been safe for them to eat, drink, and rejoice on days when Pagan -Governments put on mourning. They were glad, then, when these were -glad, and feasted with them, but holding other celebrations in view. -Hence the German tree; only, for the sun which crowned the Roman tree, -in honour of Apollo, the Germans place a figure of the Son of God; and, -for the Phœbus and his flocks at the foot, they substitute “the Good -Shepherd.” The waxen figures are also the _sigillaria_, but with more -holy impress. The _Saturnalia_ have a place in the table joys that -attend the exhibition of the tree, in presence of which joy is supposed -to wither. - -In conclusion, I cannot but notice one other table custom, which is of -Teutonic origin. I allude to the Cabinet dinners given by Ministers -previous to the opening of Parliament, and at which the Royal Speech -is read, before it is declared in the presence of collective wisdom. -This, at all events, reminds us of the ancient German custom, mentioned -by Tacitus, who tells us, that the Teutonic legislators and warriors -consulted twice touching every question of importance: once, by night, -and over the bowl; and once, by day, when they were perfectly sober. Of -course, I would not insinuate that Ministers could possibly indulge too -fondly over their cups, like the Senators of the Hercynian forest; and -yet Viscount Sidmouth’s vice, as Lord Holland tells us, “was wine;” -and we have heard even of grave Lord-Stewards so drunk as to pull -down the Monarchs they held by the hand, and _should_ have supported. -The last unfortunate official who so offended, should have craftily -qualified his wine with water; and the mention of that subject reminds -me of the origin of wine and water, of which I will say a few words, -after adding one or two more traits of table manners. - -I have spoken, in another page, of the unlucky exclamation touching -haddock, which caused the perpetual exile of Poodle Byng from Belvoir. -There was, however, no offence meant. How different was the case with -that impudent coxcomb, Brummell, who managed to be the copper-Captain -of fashion in London, when the true Captains were fighting their -country’s battles! When Brummell was living almost on the charity of -Mr. Marshall, he was one of a dinner party at that gentleman’s house, -whither he took with him, according to his most impertinent custom, one -of his favourite dogs. The “Beau” had, during dinner, helped himself -to the wing of a roasted capon stuffed with truffles. He chose to -fancy that the wing was tough, and, delicately seizing the end of it -with a napkin-covered finger and thumb, he passed it under the table -to his dog, with the remark, “Here, _Atout_! try if you can get your -teeth through this; for I’ll be d--d if I can.” Not less ungratefully -impudent was this gentleman-beggar on another occasion. A French family -had given a dinner entirely on his account. It was perfect in its -way. The ortolans came from Toulouse, the salmon was from the waters -in the neighbourhood of Rouen, and the company most select. A friend, -encountering him next day, asked how the dinner had gone off. Brummell -lifted up his hands, shook his head in a deprecatory manner, and said, -“Don’t ask me, my good fellow; but, poor man! he did his best.” - -The two most recent examples of Table Traits of the present century, -that I have met with, illustrate the two extremes of society; and as -they refer to a period of not above a month ago, they will serve, not -inaptly, to close this section of my series. The first example is -that afforded by a dinner given at Boston, in Lincolnshire, to twenty -aged labourers. At this dinner, one of the gentlemen donors of the -feast, gave “the Ladies,” and called on the octogenarian Chairman to -return thanks. The old President, however, shook his head, with a -mixed melancholy and cunning air, as if he too well knew there was -nothing to return thanks for. The venerable “Vice” was then appealed -to; but his reply was, that the least said about the subject of the -toast would be the soonest mended. At length, a sprightly old man of -threescore and ten was requested to respond, he having a gay look about -him which seemed warranting gallantry; but he surprised the toast-giver -by answering, that “as for t’leddies, he’d nowt to say; for his part, -he’d never liked ’em.” This unchivalrous sentiment awoke, at last, the -spirit of a strip of a lad who was only sixty-five; and he responded -to the toast, with a touch of satire, however, in his remarks, that -left it uncertain whether he were so much a champion of the fair sex, -as the company had expected to find in him. The second “Trait” of the -customs of this country is presented by the dinner given in February -of the present year, by Earl Granville, the guests at which were Lord -Aberdeen, the Bishop of Oxford, and Mr. Bright. There were not such -startling contrasts at the reconciliation dinner which brought Wilkes -and Johnson together, as at Earl Granville’s unique banquet. The host -and the Premier represented--the first, smiling courtesy; the second, -the most frigid severity of a freezing civility. But the strongest -contrast was in the persons of the Bishop and the “Friend:”--Dr. -Wilberforce, highest of Churchmen, briefest of Preachers, and twice as -much curled as the son of Clinias himself; while Mr. Bright, with every -hair as if a plummet depended at the end of it, hating the Church, but -not indifferent to _petits pâtés à la braise_, must have looked like -the vinegar of voluntaryism that would _not_ mingle with the oil of -orthodoxy. To have made this banquet complete, there should have been -two more guests,--Dr. Cumming and Dr. Cahill, with appropriate dishes -before each:--a plate of sweetbreads in front of the gentle apostle -of the Kirk; and a bowl of blood-puddings opposite the surpliced -Priest who has gained a gloomy notoriety by the “glorious idea,” to -which I have referred, of a massacre of English heretic beef-eaters, -by the light-dieted holders of Catholic and continental bayonets. But -Dr. Cahill, it may be hoped, is something insane, or would he have -deliberately recorded, as he did the other day in the “Tablet,” that it -were much better for Romanists to read immoral works than the English -Bible? His excellent reason is, that “the Church” easily forgives -immorality, but has no mercy for heresy. Well, well; we should not -like to catch a Confessor of this school sitting next our daughter -at dinner, and intimating that Holywell-street literature was better -reading than the English version of the Sermon on the Mount.--But let -us sweeten our imagination with a little Wine and Water. - - - - -WINE AND WATER. - - -Early ages, and the oldest poets, confessed, that wine was the gift -of the gods to men. The latter would appear to have abused the gift, -if we may believe Philonides the physician, who wrote a treatise “On -Perfumes and Garlands” (Περὶ Μύρων καὶ Στεφάνων). In this treatise he -asserts, that, when Bacchus brought the vine from the Red Sea into -Greece, men drank to such excess, that they became as beasts, and -incapable of performing manly duties. A party of these revellers were -once drinking by the sea-shore, when a sudden storm drove them into a -cave for shelter. They do not seem, however, to have been inveterate -tipplers; for, according to Philonides, they left their cups on the -beach. When the shower had passed, they found the wine in them mingled -with rain water; and, very much to their credit, they liked the mixture -so well, that they solemnly thanked the “good genius” who had sent it. -Hence, when wine was served at Grecian repasts, the guests invoked -this good genius; and when the turn came for wine mixed with water, -they acknowledged the benevolent inventor by the name of _Jupiter -Saviour_. I may take this opportunity to state, that, at one period, it -was the fashion to attend these drinking entertainments in a pair of -“Alcibiades,” or boots which had been rendered popular by being first -worn by the curled son of Clinias. Thus we see, that in our fashion -of conferring on boots the authorities of great names, we are doing -nothing original; and that men used to call for their “Alcibiades,” as -they do now for their “Wellingtons,” “Bluchers,” or “Alberts.” - -To revert, for a moment, to the question of wine and water, I would -state, that it has been discussed in its separate divisions by German -writers, the substance of whose opinions I will venture to give in -verse, without desiring, however, to be considered as endorsing every -sentiment in full. As French music-books say, it is an “_Air à faire_.” - - Do you ask what now glows - In this goblet of mine? - Wine! wine! wine! wine! - To the stream, do ye ask, - Shall my cup-bearer go? - No! no! no! no! - - Let water its own frigid nature retain; - Since water it is, let it water remain! - Let it ripple and run in meandering rills, - And set the wheels going in brook-sided mills. - In the desert, where streams do but scantily run, - If so much they’re allow’d by the thirsty old sun, - There water _may_ be, as it’s quaff’d by each man, - Productive of fun to a whole caravan. - But ask what now glows, &c. - - Yes, water, and welcome, in billows may rise, - Till it shiver its feathery crest ’gainst the skies; - Or in dashing cascades it may joyously leap, - Or in silvery lakes lie entranced and asleep;-- - Or, e’en better still, in full showers of hope, - Let it gaily descend on some rich vineyard’s slope, - That its sides may bear clusters of ripening bliss, - Which, in Autumn, shall melt into nectar like this, - Like this that now glows, &c. - - Let it bear up the vessel that bringeth us o’er - Its freight of glad wine from some happier shore. - Let it run through each land that in ignorance lies: - It the Heathen will do very well to baptize. - Yes, water shall have ev’ry due praise of mine, - Whether salt, like the ocean, or fresh, like the Rhine. - Yes, praised to the echo pure water shall be, - But wine, wine alone is the nectar for me! - For ’tis that which now glows - In this goblet of mine. - Wine! wine! wine! wine! - No attendant for me - To the river need go. - No! no! no! no! - -The various merits and uses of the respective liquids are fairly -allowed in the above lines; but I may observe, that wine apologists, -generally, are sadly apt to forget, that there are such things as -conscience and to-morrow morning. For their edification and use, I -indite the following colloquy, to be kept in mind, rather than sung, at -all festivities where the “_Aqua Pumpaginis_” is held in abhorrence:-- - - See the wine in the bowl, - How it sparkles to-night! - Tell us what can compete - With that red sea of light; - Which breathes forth a perfume - That deadens all sorrow, - And leaves us bless’d now, - (Conscience _loquitur_,) - “With a headache to-morrow!” - - Where are spirits like those - That we find in the bowl, - Shedding joy round our brows, - Breathing peace to the soul? - Our tongues feel the magic, - There our strains, too, we borrow: - We’re Apollos to-night, - (Conscience _loquitur_,) - “To be songless to-morrow!” - - O, this rare inspiration! - How gay are the dreams - Of the thrice triple blest - Who may quaff of thy streams! - It expels from the heart - Sulky care, that old horror, - And tells laughter to-night - (Conscience, ashamed of the rhyme) - “To wake sadness to-morrow!” - - Drink deep, though there be - Thirstless fools, who may preach - Of the sins of the bowl,-- - Do they act as they teach? - If we’re sinners, what then! - As we’re not friends to sorrow, - We’ll be glad ones to-night, - (Conscience _loquitur_,) - “To be sad ones to-morrow!” - - Ah! that was old Conscience: - _Him_ we’ll drown in the wine! - Plunge him in! hold him down! - Ah! he dies!--now the Nine - May, to write in his praise, - From our Helicon borrow. - He’s done talking to-night; - (Conscience, from the bowl,) - “You shall hear me to-morrow!” - -Finally, being on Pegasus, and he ambling along through this chapter -of Wine and Water, I will take the opportunity, as connected with my -subject, of doing justice to a flower whose “capability,” as Mr. Browne -used very properly to say, has been overlooked,--I mean the tulip:-- - - Praise they who will the saucy vine, - With her thousand rings and her curls so fine! - But I fill up - To the tulip-cup, - All looking as though it were bathed in wine. - Ah, show me the flower, - In vale or bower, - That looks half so well as this bowl of mine! - O, who this night will fail to fill up, - Or to sing in praise of the tulip-cup? - - Praise they who will the willow-tree, - With her drooping neck and her tresses free, - That bend to the brink - Of the brook, and drink - Of a liquid that never will do for me! - While the tulip-cup - Is for ever held up, - As though she could drink for eternity. - And that is the very best bowl for me, - Who hate the sickly willow-tree! - - The water-lily praise who will: - Of water we know that she loves her fill. - But what, pray, is she - To the tulip, that we - Have loved for so long, and love so well still? - Ah! who doth not think her - A mere water-drinker, - That quaffs but such wine she can get from the rill? - Then fill up to-night to the tulip tall, - Who holds forth her cups, and can drain them all! - -See how naturally we drop out of the subject of “Wine and Water,” into -that of “Wine,” to which we now, reverently, yet joyously, address -ourselves. - - - - -THE BIRTH OF THE VINE, AND WHAT HAS COME OF IT. - - -The birth of the vine was in this wise. On the day of the creation, -the trees vied with each other in boasting; and each exulted in the -enjoyment of his own existence. “The Lord himself,” said the lofty -cedar, “planted me, and in me has he united stability and fragrance, -strength and durability.” “Me,” said the shade-spreading palm, “hath -the beneficence of Jehovah appointed for a blessing, joining together -in me utility and beauty.” Then the apple-tree spoke: “As a bridegroom -among youths, so am I resplendent among the trees of the woods.” “And -I,” said the myrtle, “stand among the lowly bushes, like a rose among -thorns.” In this manner boasted they all, the olive and the fig; yea, -the pine even, and the fir exulted. - -The vine alone, in silence, stooped to the ground. “It seems,” said -she to herself, “as if every thing were denied me,--stem and branch, -blossom and fruit; but, such as I am, I will hope and wait.” Thus -speaking, she sank to the earth, and her branches wept. - -But not long did she thus wait and weep; for, behold, cheerful man, the -earthly god, drew nigh unto her. He saw a weak plant, the plaything of -the breeze, sinking under its own weight, and pining for assistance. -Touched with compassionate feeling, he upheld it, and trained the -delicate tree over his own bower. More freely now sported the air -among its branches. The warmth of the sun penetrated the hard green -berries, preparing therein the delicious juice,--a drink for gods and -men. Laden with clustering grapes, the vine now bowed herself before -her lord, and the latter tasted of her refreshing sweets, and named her -his friend, his own grateful favourite. It was now that the proud trees -envied her, but many of them lived on in sterility, while she rejoiced, -full of gratitude at her slender growth, and patient humility; and -therefore it is, that it is given to her to make glad the heart of -sorrowing man, to elevate the cast-down spirit, and to cheer the -afflicted. - -“Despair not,” says Herder, who thus tells the old traditionary story -of the vine,--“Despair not, O thou that art deserted, but endure -patiently. Sweet streams issue from unlikely sources; and the feeble -vine affords the most potent draught in the world.” - -Let us, however, turn from poetical tradition to prosaic reality. The -vine is, by birth, a Persian. Its cradle was on the sunny slopes of -the hilly regions on the south shores of the Caspian Sea. There, in -the Caucasus, and in Cashmere, the wild vine still climbs and clings -to the very necks of the most towering trees. Its life-blood in those -regions is seldom turned to evil purpose. In Caubul it is taken less -in potions than in powder. The Caubulese dry and grind it to dust, and -eat thereof, finding it a pleasant acid. This is half matter of taste -and half matter of medicine, just as over-wearied digestions in Germany -drive their wretched owners into vineyards, to abstain from meat, and -live, for a while, upon raisins. Indeed, the vine was never meant -entirely for enjoyment. It is one of the most perfect of chymists; and -if it offers grapes in clusters, its twigs afford carbonate of potash, -serviceable for many purposes, and, among others, for correcting the -acidity brought on by too free indulgence in the fruit, or in its -expressed liquid. - -In the olden days, when the Patriarchs worshipped Heaven in the -“cathedral of immensity,” Palestine was renowned for the glory of -its grapes. There were none other to compare with them upon earth. -When the desert-treaders were waiting the return of their emissaries, -whom they had sent from Kadesh-Barnea to spy the Promised Land, their -thirsty impatience was exchanged for delight at beholding their agents -re-appear, bearing between them, upon poles, gigantic clusters,--the -near fountains whence their dried up souls might draw new life and -vigour. The grapes of Palestine are still remarkable for their great -size. Clusters are spoken of, each of which exceeds a stone in weight; -and vines are mentioned, whose stems measured a foot and a half -in diameter, and whose height reached to thirty feet; while their -branches afforded a tabernacle of shade, to the extent of thirty feet -square. But it could not have been from such a vine that the men from -Kadesh-Barnea collected the grapes which they could scarcely carry. -The Welbeck grapes which the Duke of Portland sent to the Marquess -of Rockingham, were of Syrian origin; and these--on a single bunch, -weighing nineteen pounds, and measuring three-and-twenty inches long, -with a maximum diameter of nearly twenty inches--were borne upon a pole -a distance of twenty miles, by four labourers; two to carry, and two -to relieve. So that the conveying grapes in this fashion may have been -more on account of their delicacy than of their weight. The Hampton -Court vine, too, produces clusters of great weight, and covers a space -of not less than 2,200 feet. - -The vine has been figuratively employed as an emblem of fruitfulness, -of security, and peace; and no doubt can exist of its having been -cultivated at a very early period. Noah planted the vine immediately -after the Deluge; and, from the first thing planted, sin came again -into the world, bringing with it widely-extending consequences. Bread -and wine are mentioned in Genesis. Pharaoh’s chief butler dreamed -of a vine with three branches; and the Israelites (in Numbers) -complained that Moses and Aaron had brought them out of Egypt into a -dry and barren land, where there were neither figs nor vines. So, in -after-years, the companions of Columbus sailed tremblingly with their -calm Captain over trackless seas, and murmured at him for bringing them -from the olives and vines of Spain, to the very confines of creation, -where terror reigned, and death sat enthroned. - -Jacopo di Bergamo gives a singular account of the reason which induced -Noah to plant the vine. The Patriarch did so, he says, because he saw -a goat in Sicily eat some wild grapes, and afterwards fight with such -courage, that Noah inferred there must have been virtue in the fruit. -He planted a vine, therefore, and--wherefore is not told--manured it -with the blood of a lion, a lamb, a swine, and a monkey, or ape. But -this, perhaps, only signifies that, by drinking wine, men become bold, -confiding or meek, filthy or obscene. - -It is stated by Theodoret, that Noah himself, after pressing the -grapes, became intoxicated through inexperience, as he had been -a water-drinker for six centuries! The sin of Lot is supposed to -have been committed, not merely under the influences of wine, but -of a maddening and drugged draught. The evil power of wine is well -illustrated by the story of the Monk, to whom Satan offered a choice of -sins,--incest, murder, or drunkenness. The poor Monk chose the last, as -the least of the three; and, when he was drunk, he committed the other -two. - -Commentators pronounce our rendering under the single word “wine,” -the thirteen distinct Hebrew terms used in the Bible to distinguish -between wines of different sorts, ages, and condition, as a defect -of great magnitude; and no doubt it is so. The knowledge of mixing -wines appears to have been extensively applied by the ancient people; -and it is said of the beautiful Helen, that she learned in Egypt the -composition of the exhilarating, or rather, stupefying, ingredients -which she mixed in the bowl, together with the wine, to raise the -spirits of such of her guests as were oppressed with grief. I may -notice, too, here, that our word _shrub_, or _syrup_, is an Eastern -word. In Turkey, a SHIRUB-JEE is simply a “wine-seller.” - -Yes, despite the Prophet, the Turks drink wine more than occasionally, -and under various names. Tavernier speaks of a particular preparation -of the grape drunk by the Grand Seignior, in company with the ladies of -the seraglio; and a similar beverage, it is conjectured, was quaffed by -Belshazzar and his concubines out of the holy vessels, and was offered -in vain to the more scrupulous Daniel. It was a rich and royal drink, -made strong by the addition of drugs; and the object of drinking the -potent mixture was the same as that which induced Conrad Scriblerus -and the daughter of Gaspar Barthius to live for a whole year on goat’s -milk and honey. Either mixture was better than that of the Persians, -who “fortified” their wines, or syrup of sweet wines, by adding to them -the very perilous seasoning of _nux vomica_. But none of these were -so curious as the “wine-cakes” eaten by Mr. Buckingham: these were, I -suppose, made of wine preserves. But pure wine may be eaten, or rather, -be rendered harder than any of our common food. Thus we hear of Russian -troops being compelled, in very hard winters, to cut out their rations -of wine from the cask with a hatchet. - -I think it is the renowned Dissenter, Toplady, who remarks, that the -only sarcastic passage in Scripture is to be found in the cutting -speech of Elisha to the Priests of Baal; “Is not Baal a god, seeing -that he eateth much meat?” There is, however, another ironical passage, -in reference to wine. “Give _Shechar_ unto him who is ready to -perish,” is the satirical speech of Lemuel’s mother, who warns her -royal son against the deceitful influences of intoxicating beverages, -representing them as especially destructive to those who are charged -with the government of nations; and then ironically points to the man -who foolishly concludes, that in the sweet or strong drink he may bury -all memory of the cares and anxieties brought upon him by his own -profligacy. - -There is, however, a difference of opinion touching the spirit in which -the last words quoted from Scripture are used. The Rabbins interpret -the passage as a command to administer wine to the individual about to -suffer death. Thus wine mingled with myrrh was offered to One of whom -the Gospel records, that He refused what His enemies presented. - -The custom of offering doomed criminals a last earthly draught of -refreshment is undoubtedly one of considerable antiquity. The right -of offering wine to criminals on their passage to the scaffold was -often a privilege granted to religious communities. In Paris, the -privilege was held by the convent of Filles-Dieu, the Nuns of which -kept wine prepared for those who were condemned to suffer on the gibbet -of Montfaucon. The gloomy procession halted before the gate of the -monastery, the criminal descended from the cart, and the Nuns, headed -by the Lady Abbess, received him on the steps with as much, perhaps -more heartfelt ceremony than if he had been a King. The poor wretch -was led to a crucifix near the church door, the feet whereof he humbly -kissed. He then received, from the hands of the Superior, three pieces -of bread, (to remind him of the Trinity,) and _one_ glass of wine -(emblem of Unity). The procession then resumed its dread way to the -scaffold. - -Elie Berthet tells us of a poor wretch, who, on being offered the -usual refreshment, quietly swallowed the wine, and coolly put the -bread in his pocket. When again in the cart, his observant Confessor -asked him his reason for the act. “I suppose, Father,” answered the -moribund, “that the good sisters furnished me with the bread that it -may serve me in paradise; on earth, at all events, it can no longer -be of use to me.” “Be of good cheer,” said another Confessor, who was -encouraging a criminal on the _Grève_; “be of good cheer. To-night you -will sup in paradise.” “_Tenez, mon Père_,” answered the poor fellow; -“_allez-y-vous à ma place; car, pour moi, je n’ai pas faim_.” This -incident has been made good use of by the “ballad” writers both of -England and France. - -“Bowl-yard,” St. Giles’s-in-the-Fields, preserves in its name the -memory of a similar custom in England. This yard, or alley, adjacent -to the church, is a portion of the site of the old Hospital for -Lepers, the garden of which was a place of execution. Lord Cobham, -under Henry V., and Babington and his accomplices, for conspiring -against Elizabeth, were executed here. Stow tells us that, “at this -hospital, the prisoners conveyed from the city of London toward Tyburn, -there to be executed for treason, felonies, or other trespasses, -were presented with a great _bowl_ of ale, thereof to drink at their -_pleasure_, (?) as to be their last refreshment in this life.” In -later days, the criminals were sometimes supplied by their friends -from the public-houses on the line of road. In one case, a convict -happily tarried drinking for a longer space of time than usual. The -rope was just round his neck, when the arrival of a reprieve saved him. -Had he drunk a glass less, he would have been hanged a moment sooner; -and society would thus have been deprived of his valuable services. -He was a luckier man than the saddler in Ireland, who, on his way to -the gibbet, refused the ale and wine offered him on the road, who was -accordingly very rapidly dispatched, and for whom a reprieve arrived a -minute too late for him to profit by it. Hence the proverb, applied -by those who press reluctant people to drink, “Ah, now go away wid -you. Ye’re like the obs’inate saddler, who was hanged for refusing -his liquor.” It certainly was not a custom with Irish convicts to -decline the “thrink,” before trial or after. “The night before Larry -was stretch’d,” is a slang lyric, graphically illustrative of the -grace with which Irish criminals took leave of life. The most singular -thing, however, connected with the popular lay in question, is, that it -was written by a Clergyman. But, at the time of its production, such -authorship excited no surprise in the literary public. The “cloth” -was still of the quality of that in which Fielding’s Newgate Chaplain -walked; and he, it will be remembered, was a pious gentleman, who -candidly avowed that he was the rather given to indulge in punch, as -that was a liquor nowhere spoken against in Scripture! - -But it was not English or Irish Chaplains, of the olden time, who stood -by themselves in their respect for good liquor. If that reverend and -rubicund gentleman, Walter de Mapes, wrote the best Latin drinking-song -that Bacchanalian inspiration ever produced, so did a German Prelate -preach the best sermon on the same text. I allude to the Bishop of -Triers, or Trèves. Here is an odour, caught by the way, of the full -bottle of counsel which he poured out to his hearers:-- - -“Brethren, to whom the high privilege of repentance and penance has -been conceded, you feel the sin of abusing the gifts of Providence. -But, _abusum non tollit usum_. It is written, ‘Wine maketh glad the -heart of man.’ It follows, then, that to use wine moderately is our -duty. Now there is, doubtless, none of my male hearers who cannot drink -his four bottles without affecting his brain. Let him, however,--if -by the fifth or sixth bottle he no longer knoweth his own wife,--if -he beat and kick his children, and look on his dearest friend as an -enemy,--refrain from an excess displeasing to God and man, and which -renders him contemptible in the eyes of his fellows. But whoever, after -drinking his ten or twelve bottles, retains his senses sufficiently -to support his tottering neighbour, or manage his household affairs, -or execute the commands of his temporal and spiritual superiors, let -him take his share quietly, and be thankful for his talent. Still, let -him be cautious how he exceed this; for man is weak, and his powers -limited. It is but seldom that our kind Creator extends to any one the -grace to be able to drink safely sixteen bottles, of which privilege -he hath held me, the meanest of his servants, worthy. And since no -one can say of me that I ever broke out in causeless rage, or failed -to recognise my household friends or relations, or neglected the -performance of my spiritual duties, I may, with thankfulness and a good -conscience, use the gift which hath been intrusted to me. And you, my -pious hearers, each take modestly your allotted portion; and, to avoid -all excess, follow the precept of St. Peter,--‘Try all, and stick by -the best!’” - -The sermon is not a bad illustration of what was, and remains, -historical fact. The first Archbishop of Mayence was the Englishman -Boniface; and most of his successors might have been characterized by -his name. They were more powerful than the Emperors, and more stately -than Moguls. The Canons of the Cathedral, supported by its enormous -revenues, lived a jovial life. The Pope, indeed, reproved them for -their worldly and luxurious habits; but they uproariously returned for -answer, “We have no more wine than is needed for the Mass; and not -enough to turn our mills with!” - -_Good_ living, as it was erroneously called, was certainly, at one -time, an universal observance in Germany, when the sole wish of man -was, that he might have short sermons and long puddings. When this -wish prevailed, every dining-room had its _faulbett_, or sot’s couch, -in one corner, for the accommodation of the first couple of guests -who might chance to be too drunk to be removed. Indeed, in German -village-inns, the most drunken guests were, in former days, by far -the best off; for, while they had the beds allotted them, as standing -in most need of the same, the guests of every degree, whether rich -or poor, the perfectly sober--wherever such phenomena were to be -found--and those not so intoxicated but they could stagger out of the -room, all lodged with the cows among the straw. - -Probably, no country on the earth presented such scenes, arising from -excessive drinking, as were witnessed in Saxony and Bohemia, a few -generations back. These scenes were so commonly attended by murder, -or followed by death, that it was said to be better for a man to fall -among the thickest of his enemies fighting, than among his friends when -drinking. There were deadly brawls in taverns, deadly drunken feuds -in the family circle, and not less deadly contentions in the streets. -When the city-gates were closed at night, the crowds of drunkards, -issuing to their homes in the suburbs, were met by as dense and drunken -a crowd, returning from their revels in the country. And then came the -insulting motion, the provoking word, the hard blow, and the harder -stab. Then fell the wounded and the dead; then rose the shrieks of -women and of children, and, loud above them, the imprecations and -blasphemies born in the wine-sodden brains of men. Suddenly, a shot or -two is fired from the walls, right into the heaving mass below. And -then ensue the flying of the people, and the venting of impotent rage -from the rash and resolute. But, gradually, the two opposing streams -glide through each other, the gates are at length closed; and, by the -light of the moon, on the almost deserted esplanade, may be observed, -stretched on the ground, some half-dozen human forms. Some of these are -dead, some are still drunken and helpless, and both equally uncared for. - -This is no overdrawn picture of an ancient German period. It is on -record that once, on the banks of the Bohemian Sazawa, a party of -husbandmen met for the purpose of drinking twelve casks of wine. There -were ten of them who addressed themselves to this feat; but one of the -ten attempting to retire from the contest before any of his fellows, -the remaining nine seized, bound him, and roasted him alive on a spit. -The murderers were subsequently carried to the palace for judgment; but -the Duke’s funeral was taking place as they entered the hall, and the -Princes who administered justice were all so intoxicated, that they -looked upon the matter in the light of a joke that might be compensated -for by a slight fine. - -There was a joyous revelry at that time in every direction. A father -would not receive a man for a son-in-law who could not drink; and -in Universities the conferring of a degree was always followed by a -carouse, the length of which was fixed, by College rules, as not to -exceed eight hours’ duration. Yet, during this generally dissolute -period, a strange custom was prevalent at the tables of Nuremberg. In -all well-regulated households, there used to hang a little bell beneath -the dining-table; and this bell was struck by the master of the family, -if he were sober enough, whenever any one uttered an unseemly phrase. - -Even so, in public, a voice of indignation was sometimes raised against -the profligacy of the period. The voice to the people at large was as -the bell to the guests at Nuremberg. Its effects who can tell? It may -have induced Luther to be content with dignified Virgil rather than -with unclean Plautus; it may have driven the Monk Schwartz from the -refectory to the alembic; and it may have called Gutenberg from the -brutalities of the camp to the wonders of the printing-press. In the -two latter cases, the consequences bear a very tipsy appearance; for it -was a soldier who invented printing, and a Monk who first manufactured -gunpowder! - -Let us not hasten to condemn our fellows of the olden time and distant -land. Manners as fearfully outraging prevailed but very recently -among young Englishmen. M. de Warenne, a French officer in our Indian -army, describes the manners and customs there prevalent as any thing -but edifying. In his “_Inde-Anglaise_,” he describes himself, on one -occasion, as being disinclined for study, and consequently joining a -party of his comrades who were at the moment occupied in an unreserved -enjoyment of the pleasures of the table. They were from fifteen to -twenty in number, married and single, but all young, full of hope, good -prospects, and gaiety. Deep were the libations made by this riotous -company, seated at a festive board in the open air, looked down upon by -a brilliant moon, and gently fanned by the evening breeze. - -“While the attendant servant,” says the author, “poured out, with -Indian profusion, fresh supplies of tea, coffee, beer, punch, and grog, -a dense vapour rose from our cigars, and joyous shouts rang from every -lip at the conclusion of songs, bacchanalian and anacreontic. Toasts -succeeded each other rapidly, alternately exciting the laughter or -approbation of the carousers. One of them caused in me, at the time, -a singular impression. A young, wild-brained fellow, in pouring out -a bumper, called on us to fill our glasses, in order to sanction the -strange wish of a rash ambition,--‘A bloody war, and a sickly season!’” - -The blasphemous sentiment, as M. de Warenne rightly terms it, was -drunk with enthusiasm; and the gay and thoughtless drinkers had yet -the cup to their lips, when one of them was stricken with the cholera, -the presence of which in camp was hardly known;--the next day the -funeral salute was fired over his grave. The author adds, that the -music played on returning from the funeral was joyously and daily -hummed by the daily diminishing survivors. He says that there was a -mockery in the waltzes they continued to dance; for death was also -daily decreasing their orchestra. The stricken, we are told, felt -themselves relieved from further anxiety, recovered their temporarily -shaken self-possession, and died with indifference. The strong who -lived are described as, for the most part, diverting their thoughts, -outraging decency, and defying God, by composing or chanting songs -whose inspiration certainly savours of hell. Here is a specimen of one -of these devil’s canticles, roared over wine, to frighten away the -cholera:-- - - -I. - - “We meet ’neath the sounding rafter, - And the walls around are bare; - As they shout back our peals of laughter, - It seems as the dead were there. - Then stand to your glasses!--steady! - We drink ’fore our comrades’ eyes; - One cup to the dead already; - Hurrah for the next that dies! - - -II. - - “Not here are the goblets glowing, - Not here is the vintage sweet; - ’Tis cold, as our hearts are growing, - And dark as the doom we meet. - But stand to your glasses!--steady! - And soon shall our pulses rise; - One cup to the dead already; - Hurrah for the next that dies! - - -III. - - “There’s many a hand that’s shaking, - And many a cheek that’s sunk; - But soon, though our hearts are breaking, - They’ll burn with the wine we’ve drunk. - Then stand to your glasses!--steady! - ’Tis here the revival lies; - Quaff a cup to the dead already; - Hurrah for the next that dies! - - -IV. - - “Time was, when we laugh’d at others, - We thought we were wiser then: - Ha! ha! let them think of their mothers, - Who hope to see them again. - No! stand to your glasses!--steady! - The thoughtless is here the wise; - One cup to the dead already; - Hurrah for the next that dies! - - -V. - - “Not a sigh for the lot that darkles, - Not a tear for the friends that sink; - We’ll fall ’mid the wine-cup’s sparkles, - As mute as the wine we drink. - Come! stand to your glasses!--steady! - ’Tis this that the respite buys; - One cup to the dead already; - Hurrah for the next that dies! - - -VI. - - “Who dreads to the dust returning? - Who shrinks from the sable shore, - Where the high and haughty yearning - Of the soul can sting no more? - No! stand to your glasses!--steady! - This world is a world of lies! - One cup to the dead already; - Hurrah for the next that dies! - - -VII. - - “Cut off from the land that bore us, - Betray’d by the land we find, - When the brightest are gone before us, - And the dullest are most behind,-- - Stand! stand! to your glasses!--steady! - ’Tis all we have left to prize! - One cup to the dead already; - Hurrah for the next that dies!” - -After this, the most rigid examiner of public morals in all countries -need not exclusively frown on the old Germans, nor on _their_ profane -canticle, the burthen of which is:-- - - “_Gaudeamus, igitur, juvenes dum sumus! - Post jucundam juventutem. - Post molestam senectutem. - Nos habebit, nos habebit, nos habebit tumulus!_” - -There is, however, more reason, and healthy sentiment, and pure -principle, in such lines as the following,--extracted from Walter -Savage Landor’s “Last Fruit off an Old Tree,”--than in reams of such -fiery invocations to quaff deeply as those cited above. Hear the old -man:-- - - “The chrysolites and rubies Bacchus brings, - To crown the feast where swells the broad-vein’d brow, - Where maidens blush at what the minstrel sings, - They who have courted, may court now. - - “Bring me a cool alcove, the grape uncrush’d, - The peach of pulpy cheek and down mature; - Where ev’ry voice, but bird’s or child’s, is husht, - And ev’ry thought, like the brook nigh, runs pure.” - -There was a Persian sage, whose philosophy was of a different -complexion from that of the eloquent moralist of “the old garden -near Bath.” “In what can I best assist thee?” demanded the Minister, -Nizam-al-Mulk, as he warmly greeted his friend, Omar Keyoomee. “Place -me,” said Omar, enamoured of poetry and ease, “where my life may pass -without care or annoyance, and where wine, in abundance, may inspire my -muse.” A pension was accordingly assigned him in the fertile district -of Nishapour, where Omar lived and died. His tomb still exists, and -Mr. J. B. Fraser, in his “Persia,” informs us that he heard Omar’s -story told over his grave by a brother rhymester, and a most congenial -spirit. The system of Omar was explained by himself, in something after -this fashion:-- - - - I ask not for much: let the miser seek wealth; - Let the proud sigh for titles and fame:-- - All the riches I ask are a fair share of health, - And the hope of a true poet’s name. - Let the flatterer talk of his worth to the Shah,-- - Of his greatness, too, all the day long;-- - I envy them not, for I love better far - To pay my poor tribute in song. - - A kaftan of honour! a gem from the King! - To be gain’d in the field or divan? - Ah! rather around me the bright mantle fling - Of the poets of gay Laristan. - Let the gems be for those of the glittering crowd, - Who would die, the Shah Inshah to please; - But _I’m_ not ambitious, I never was proud, - I sigh but for sherbet and ease. - - Do I wish for command in dark history’s page, - Do I long in fond record to shine? - Yes, let me have sway, till the last sigh of age, - Over cohorts of old Shiraz wine. - And as for renown, it may be very well, - But Keyoomee the honour will wave; - Contented, if some brother rhymester will tell - Keyoomee’s glad life, o’er his grave. - - - - -THE MAKING AND MARRING OF WINE. - - -It used to be said of the old learned and liquor-loving Germans, that -they did not care what Latin they spoke, so long as it _was_ Latin; nor -what sort of wine they drank, so long as it _was_ wine. I have read -somewhere of a feudal German Baron becoming intoxicated upon pious -principles. He was seated, with his wife at his side, at the centre -of his own table, presiding at a banquet. He had drunk till he had -scarcely power left to carry the goblet up to his ever thirsty lips. -The Frau Baroninn had repeatedly remonstrated, in whispers, with her -lord; who replied, that he must needs drink when toasts were given, -or his want of faith would be marked by his guests. He was about to -raise a full goblet to his beard, when his lady, overturning, as if by -accident, the cluster of lights which illuminated the board, begged of -her consort to fling his wine away upon the floor; adding, “It is dark; -nobody will see you.” “Nay,” said the orthodox Baron, solemnly, “God -sees me!” and therewith he finished his draught, and was soon after -conveyed to his couch, under such benison as the Chaplain could give, -who congratulated his master upon the flavour of his wine, and the -strength of his principles! - -In no country in the world has more wine been drunk than in Germany; -and no where has adulteration thereof been practised so systematically. -“_Vaticana bibis, bibis venenum_,” says Martial, in the sixth book of -his Epigrams. For “_Vaticana_,” read “_Germanica_;” and the line had, -at one time, as fitting an application. The method pursued appears to -have been of classical derivation; and the Germans, like the Romans, -adulterated their wine with lead. It has been a matter of vexation to -Teutonic scholars, that they have never been able to discover the name -of the ingenious person who first realized the deadly idea of employing -lead in the adulteration of wine. All that they can say of him is, that -he was very wicked, but decidedly clever. - -The Roman wine-merchants treated the matter in a business-like way. -Lead arrested the acetous fermentation of wine, did not alter its -colour, and did improve its taste. This was all that was desirable, as -regarded _them_ as merchants. If the beverage gave death, by slow or -speedy means, to those who drank, that was an affair which concerned -the imbibers, their medical men, and their families. They were ignorant -and godless Heathens, of course, who committed this crime; and as -nothing like it has ever been known as a characteristic of some of the -professors of a better dispensation,--why, our righteous indignation -may be intense. One excuse, indeed, may be offered for the old Romans. -“At lover’s perjuries,” as they were told, “Jove himself condescended -to laugh;” and, if so, they might feel canonically certain, that -Mercury would not call them to account, but rather applaud their -proficiency in cheating. But Galen was more just than the gods of -either the Greek or Roman mythology, and sternly denounces the tricks -at which the son of Maia would have smiled. - -The same ancients were accustomed to boil new wine in metal vessels; -and, when the quantity had been reduced by the process, to add -sea-water and bad wine, and send the mixture to market as something -that would make the very eyes of Bacchus twinkle with delight. A -process not less distasteful, if less deadly, was that of boiling -lime and plaster of Paris in inferior wine. The former was supposed -to add an intoxicating quality to the mixture, which must have -been as detestable as “Masdeu.” To this day, certain wines of the -Mediterranean are subjected to a similar process; and, perhaps, if lime -be judiciously used, the results may not be very injurious. It corrects -acidity; but too much of it would enable the drinker to find out, as -Falstaff did, that there was “lime in the sack.” We are wise in our -generation, in employing carbonate of soda for this purpose, rather -than lime, slaked or unslaked; and we also do well to reject gypsum,--a -compound of sulphuric acid and lime, and which is seldom procurable -in a sufficiently pure state to authorize its being employed. The -rejection of plaster of Paris, for the purpose of improving wine, is, -however, more general than universal. After all, it is not worse than -calcined shells, and is innocuous when compared with the use of sugar -of lead. - -The Roman law was not levelled against the adulteration of wine; it -no more controlled the sale or manufacture, than, in Thevenot’s days, -the Tunisian Government interfered with the sale of wine at Tunis, -which was left to slaves, who did with it as they liked, for their own -profit, and the destruction of infidel stomachs. It was otherwise in -Germany, where Diets were assembled to discuss what was, in truth, no -unimportant matter; the members of which began to think, that if wine -was worth having, it was worth providing for its purity. For centuries -Governments made laws, but bad wine was drunk in spite of them. - -Beckmann gives it as his opinion, that wines cannot be poisoned by -gypsum; but _that_ is more readily said than proved. The ancients -clarified their wine with it; but they did so at the expense of -a portion of the spirituous part. Old ordinances against the -adulteration of wine, in Brussels, by vitriol, quicksilver, and _lapis -calaminaris_,--and in France, by lead and litharge,--may still be read -as curiosities, but they have no present application. - -A German Monk, named Martin Bayr, is damned to everlasting fame, as -the first who adulterated wines within the territory of the Kaiser. -Pickheimer, the friend of Albert Durer, is particularly inveterate -against Bayr and his followers in evil. The indignation of the lover of -pure wine is carried to an incredible extent. He narrates, in a rapt -fury, the consequences of drinking injurious wines; beginning with -an assurance, that adulterated wine keeps the married childless, and -adding, by a sort of bathos, that it causes certain inward pains, “than -which none can be more excruciating.” He mentions many ingredients -employed, and adverts to some, “the names of which I should be ashamed -to mention;” and then he calls for vengeance on the offenders, both in -this world and the next. “You hang the counterfeiters of the public -coin,” says he; “do not these miscreants, whose misdeeds have caused -indignant Nature to check the growth of our grapes, deserve something -worse? Cast their accursed beverage, I say, into the sewers, and -themselves into the flames: and so may Martin Bayr and his disciples -perish in this world, and inherit everlasting damnation in the next!” - -Adulteration, however, still went on, until the penalty of death, -and confiscation of property, was levelled against the employment of -sulphur and bismuth,--used by the most noble of wine-makers to sweeten -their spoiled and sour commodity. Offenders, however, again grew bold. -The tribunals treated them leniently. First, fines were levied; then -came confiscation of property, imprisonment, and hard labour; next, -banishment: and none of these courses meeting the evil, the Judges at -length cut off the head of an incorrigible criminal, Ehrni of Erlingen; -and, for a while, terrified the whole brotherhood of wine-spoilers into -a temporary observance of honesty. - -The next struggle which occurred in Germany, was between those who -applied tests to detect the presence of metals, and those who invented -processes to defy them. It was a scientific struggle between two -species of assassins,--those who swiftly killed by brewing poisonous -wine, and the physicians who racked their brains to invent detective -tests, and save their patients for a slower process of extinction. This -was very rudely said by rude people, who looked upon themselves as the -victims sought for by two contending parties,--the distillers on one -side, and the doctors on the other. - -The use of milk by the Greeks was, probably, not for adulterating, but -for refining, their wines. Isinglass is at present generally employed -for the last-mentioned purpose. - -As it is the tendency of the world to improve, so the not -inconsiderable world of adulterators in England has profited, like -philosophers, by the discoveries of those who have preceded them. A -mixture of strong port, rectified spirit, Cognac brandy, and rough -cider, can be concocted into what is called “fine old crusted port.” It -costs the maker about sixteen shillings a gallon, and is sold retail -at five shillings a bottle. Sloe-juice is another ingredient, and -poisonous tinctures give it a seductive hue. Powder of catechu does -for it what hair-powder does for the individual,--gives a crust of -antiquity to secure for it the veneration of the ignorant. A decoction -of Brazil-wood, and a little alum, will impart to the corks the -requisite air of corresponding age; and these the credulous gaze at and -believe. - -“Madeira, neat as imported,” is the definition of a beverage cleverly -manufactured much nearer Fenchurch-street than Funchal. Home-made -Madeira is a compound of bad port, Vidonia, that African nastiness -called “Cape,” sugar-candy, and bitter almonds; and the Vidonia, which -is an ingredient in itself, often adulterated with cider and rum; and a -little carbonate of soda, “to contumace the appetite’s acidities.” The -lowest and cruellest insult to human taste and stomachs is, perhaps, -the adulteration of Cape. It is bad enough in itself; but Cape, with -something worse in it, is only fit for the thirsty hounds of Pluto. -Gooseberry, passed off as Champagne, is an impostor, and even with -strawberries in it, to give it an aristocratic pinkness, it is still -a deception; but, compared with Cape, even in its best condition, -gooseberry _may_ be imbibed without very much disgust. - -A _fracas_ between the waiters and their employers at the last Lord -Mayor’s dinner, betrayed another pleasant process regarding wine. The -attendants in question declared that, after many hours’ toil, they -had not had a glass even out of a _dovered_ bottle. They were as much -surprised when the Magistrate asked the meaning of “_dovering_,” as -the sailor was, when he stood before a Lord High Chancellor ignorant -of the signification of “’baft the binnacle.” A complaisant Ganymede -enlightened the darkened mind of the metropolitan Cadi: “_Dovering_,” -said he, “is the collecting of three-quarter emptied decanters from the -dinner-table, and re-decantering the same, serving it up as freshly -uncorked.” Dover has the bad reputation of being the locality where -this process was first invented. - -One of the most ingenious--perhaps we should say, one of the -most scientific--tricks that we have heard of, in connexion with -wine-doctoring, proves that the modern chymical brewers of superior -beverages, which seem what they are not, are vastly superior to the -mere experimentalists of former days. In the royal cellars of Carlton -House, there was enshrined, if we may so speak, a small quantity of -wine which, like the gems worn by the Irish lady, was both “rich and -rare.” It was only produced by George IV. when he had around him his -most select and wittiest friends. The precious deposit gradually -diminished; year by year, as in the case of the famous sha-green -skin of the French novelist Balzac, it grew less; until, at last, a -couple of dozen bottles only were left, gleaming at the bottom of -their bins like gems in a mine, and full of liquid promise to those -who needed the especial comfort which it was their duty to impart. -These, however, were left so long unasked for, that the gentlemen of -the King’s suite who had the control of the grape department, deemed -them forgotten, and at their own mirthful table drank them all but -two, with infinite delight to themselves, and to the better health of -their master. They soon found, however, that there was “garlic in the -flowers,” as the Turkish proverb has it; and their embarrassment was -not small, when the King, giving his orders for a choice dinner on a -certain night, intimated his desire that a good supply of his favourite -wine should grace the board. In Courts, “to hear is to obey;” and the -officials who had drunk the wine, at once resorted to an eminent firm, -well-skilled to give advice in such delicate wine-cases. The physician -asked but for a sample bottle, and to be told the exact hour at which -the favourite draught would be asked for. This was complied with, and -in due time a proper amount of the counterfeit wine was forwarded to -Carlton House, and there broached and drunk with such encomiums, that -the officers who were in the secret had some difficulty in maintaining -an official gravity of countenance. The brewer of the new wine was -certainly a first-rate artist; and if he ever achieved knighthood -and a coat-of-arms, I would give him a “Bruin” for his crest, and, -“The drink! the drink! dear Hamlet!” for his device. This anecdote, -I may farther notice, has often been told, and nearly as often been -discredited; but I am assured by an officer of the household, who -speaks “_avec connaissance de fait_,” that it is substantially true. - -One of the merits of the wine above mentioned consisted in its great -age. There has, indeed, always been a sort of mania for wine that -bears the load of years. But this rage is pronounced by Cyrus Redding -to be one of the most ridiculous errors of modern epicurism. The “bee’s -wing,” the “thick crust on the bottle,” the “loss of strength,” and so -on,--all these are declared by the best judges to be nothing more than -forbidding manifestations of decomposition, and the disappearance of -the very best qualities of the wine. Many years ago, I made a “note” on -this subject, but am now unable to recollect from what work, nor can I -say whether the following remarks on the qualities of wine were made by -the author of an original work, or by a reviewer commenting thereon. -Such as they are, however, they are not without value. - -“The age of maturity,” says the writer, “for exportation from Oporto, -is said to be the second year after the vintage; probably sometimes -not quite so long. Our wine-merchants keep it in wood from two to six -years longer, according to its original strength, &c. Surely this -must be long enough to do all that can be done by keeping it. What -crude wine it must be to require even this time to ameliorate it! the -necessity for which must arise either from some error in the original -manufacture, or a false taste, which does not relish it till time has -changed its original characteristics. - -“Port, like all other wines, ripens in a shorter, or longer, time, -according to its lightness, or its strength, the quality of the grapes, -according to the fermentation they have undergone, and the portion of -brandy that has been added to it. Also one cellar will forward wine -much sooner than another. Sound good port is generally in perfection -when it has been from three to five years in the wood, and from one to -three in bottle. - -“Ordinary port is a very uncleansed fretful wine; and we have been -assured by wine-merchants of good taste, accurate observation, and -extensive experience, that the _best_ port is rather impoverished -than improved by being kept in bottle longer than two years; that is, -supposing it to have been previously from two to four years in the cask -in this country; observing that all that the outrageous advocates for -_vin passé_ really know about it is that sherry is _yellow_, and port -is _black_; and that if they drink (more than) enough of either of -them, according to the colours, it will make them drunk. - -“White wines, especially sherry and Madeira, being more perfectly -fermented and thoroughly fined before they are bottled, if kept in a -cellar of uniform temperature, are not so rapidly deteriorated by age. - -“The temperature of a good cellar is nearly the same throughout the -year. Double doors help to preserve this. It must be dry, and be kept -as clean as possible. - -“The art of preserving wines is to prevent them from fretting, which is -done by keeping them in the same degree of heat and careful working, -in a cellar where they will not be agitated by the motion of carriages -passing. If persons wish to preserve the fine flavour of their wines, -they ought on no account to permit any bacon, cheese, onions, potatoes, -or cider, in the wine-cellars; for if there be any disagreeable stench -in the cellar, the wine will indubitably imbibe it; consequently, -instead of being fragrant, and charming to the nose and palate, it will -be extremely disagreeable. - -“It must be well known that almost all our home-made wines, for public -sale, are made, and suffered to cool, in leaden vats. Nothing can be -more injurious or detrimental to health. Every chymist is aware that -any vegetable acid that comes in contact with lead, and is suffered -to remain only a few hours, produces what we call ‘sugar of lead,’--a -most deadly poison. How many there are that complain that cider will -not agree with them! and several who cannot take even a wine-glass full -without vomiting almost immediately. They know not the reason; and -thus many are prevented from taking a most delightful beverage in warm -weather; while others are labouring under its baneful influence. Often -do we see servants run for vinegar in a pewter or publican’s pot; and -the answer we receive when correcting them for the same is,--they have -often done the same without any serious consequence. May be so; but if -vinegar, or any other vegetable acid, as before said, be suffered to -remain in such vessels only a short time, the health and constitution -must suffer from the acid so taken; and we will venture to say that -almost all paralytic affections are caused by persons, predisposed to -such attacks, drinking water impregnated with lead. For if there be -any carbonic acid in the water, which there most assuredly is in every -kind, a carbonate is thus formed, just as injurious as the acetate -(sugar of lead); and where shall we find a cistern in London that is -not made of this pernicious, yet highly useful, material?” - -The consideration of these subjects, when drinking home-made wines, -(if, indeed, there _be_ people bold enough to venture on such an -experiment,) or the other beverages mentioned above, might serve the -purpose of the custom observed among the ancient Egyptians. It was one -less barbarous than singular. A skeleton of beautiful workmanship, in -ivory, and enclosed in a small coffin, was carried round at a feast, -by a slave, who, holding it up to each guest, remarked, “After death -you will resemble this figure; drink, then, and be happy!” It must have -encouraged the mirth “consumedly.” But there was a grave wisdom in the -custom, notwithstanding. - - - - -IMPERIAL DRINKERS AND INCIDENTS IN GERMANY. - - -The stories of the gigantic drinkers of antiquity are startling; but I -think they may be accounted for. Natural philosophers inform us, that -objects seen through a mist are magnified to the senses; and so it is -with the feats which we are asked to contemplate through the mist of -ages: they are probably not so astounding as they appear. One may say -of each story, so venerable and enlarged by age, as the good Dominican -did to the congregation whom he had affected to tears by the warmth of -one of his legendary sermons. “Do not cry so, my brethren,” said the -Preacher; “for, after all, perhaps it’s not true.” - -It must be allowed, however, that the stories of wine-bibbers of -later times than those when the son of Aristides gained his living by -singing ballads in the streets of Athens, or the heir of Cicero drank -draughts longer than his sire’s orations, lack nothing whatever of the -marvellous. And this reminds me of an incident, _quod alibi narravi_, -and which I will narrate here, by way of illustration of this portion -of my subject. - - -AN INCIDENT OF TRAVEL. - -It is now some twelve years ago that I was, in company with two -Norwegians, in Prague, loitering beneath the tower of that sacred -edifice dedicated to the fearful dancer, St. Vitus. The tower was the -same which the drunken Emperor Wenceslaus had caused to be shortened, -by some thirty or forty feet, because he took it into his head that -it would one day fall, and crush him as he lay on his uneasy couch in -the Hradschin. I remarked to my companions, that the empire, in its -palmy days, had often been well-nigh lost through the mad caprices of -tippling Kaisers. - -“There was not a Kaiser of them all,” said Löwenskiold, “who -permanently injured either himself or his country by his devotion to -drinking.” - -“What!” said I; “not even Maximilian?” - -“Not even Maximilian,” remarked Knudtzen. “The people, indeed, were -occasionally a trifle startled at seeing their ruler proceed, either -to the camp or council, with as much white wine in him as might serve -the universe for sauces. They slightly objected, on hearing that he -walked rosy and reeling to confession; and they were not edified at -understanding that his private Almoner stirred up his punch with a -silver crucifix. They even remonstrated with Maximilian when he had -been once within an ace of destroying Ulm in a drunken frolic. And what -was his reply? He kept the deputation of remonstrants the whole night -in his palace, and invited the citizens to assemble, at day-break, on -whatever spots commanded a view of the towers of the cathedral. The -Emperor and the Committee of Moderates finished two hundred and ten -bottles of Rhine wine while they waited for sunrise. This, among a -temperate party of one score and one, was a tolerable allowance for -each individual. At dawn, all Ulm was up, and every eye directed to -the cathedral. The towers had scarcely flung back the first rays from -heaven, when a joyous procession issued from the imperial residence. -The whole party, the Emperor excepted, were as drunk as Æschylus. With -difficulty did they follow their Lord, who, at the very top of his -speed, and carrying a heavy waggon-wheel on his shoulder, ran to the -cathedral, ascended the stairs leading to the summit of one of the -towers, and appeared on the rampart, before his straggling followers -had reached the low-arched door beneath. With a light bound, he sprang -on one of the highest parts of the castellated portion, where there -was scarcely footing for him. In that position, however, he poised -the wheel aloft with his right hand, let it gently descend on to the -foot which he extended above the heads of the multitude, and, holding -it there for a moment or two, ended by hurling it into the air, and -catching it again, ere it fell on the astounded and admiring crowd -below. - -“‘There, you calves!’ cried the Emperor, as he gazed tranquilly down -on the sea of heads below; ‘do you dare complain that Niedersteiner -touches your master’s nerves?’ - -“‘Never again!’ exclaimed the delighted mass. ‘What can we do to -testify our affection for Your Majesty?’ - -“‘Toss those gentlemen into a tub of Selzer-water,’ said Maximilian, -‘and send me half-a-dozen of Hochheimer, and half-a-dozen -blood-puddings, for breakfast.’” - -I could _almost_ believe this tradition; for I had seen a nearly -similar feat once performed by a woman on a projecting mass of rock -in the Ahr Thal. The rock is, doubtless, well known to all who have -ascended that lovely Rhine-valley, at eve, to eat _Forellen_, and drink -Wallportzheimer. They who do so, generally return the next morning with -an inclination for nothing but the cooling mineral waters to be had at -Hippingen. - -“Besides,” said Knudtzen, “_à-propos_ to cathedrals, sober principles -have done them more injury than jolly Emperors. Do you forget that -Caroline Bonaparte razed a cathedral in Italy to the ground?” - -“I remember hearing of the deed as connected with a church,” said I; -“but I have forgotten the reason alleged for it.” - -“It was a very sufficient reason for a Bonaparte. Her Highness lived -next door to the church; and she had it destroyed, because the noise of -the organ kept her awake, and the smell of the incense made her head -ache.” - -“Royal minds,” I remarked, “cannot condescend to the weaknesses of -common people. According to our ‘Philosophical Transactions,’ the -pigeons at Pisa were as destructive as Caroline Bonaparte. Pigeons, -for many ages, built under the roof of the great church there. Their -dung spontaneously took fire at last; and the church was consumed. -But, to return to the old, defunct King of Saxony. He was afflicted -with a super-delicate attack of virtue; and, during the prevalence -of the disorder, he issued a decree for the expulsion, from his -picture-gallery, of all those master-pieces, the merit of which lay -in the glory of their flesh-colouring. He had grown as modest as the -Monk who declared that he had never seen any portion of his body save -his face and hands. He is worthy of going down to posterity arm in arm -with that old Polish King, who was a cleaner, but not a less delicate, -man than the Monk, and who boasted to his Confessor that his purity of -mind was so excessive, that he had never touched his own skin with an -ungloved hand. In short, the old King of Saxony admirably illustrated -the saying of Dean Swift, that ‘a nice man was a man of nasty ideas.’ -He had not been a sparer of the wine-flask. Indeed, he had rather -sinned that way; and, in expiation thereof, he undertook to perform -a pilgrimage to the Holy Sepulchre on foot. A fever of expectation -shook Dresden, all the china in it, and the whole line of road, at -the idea of again beholding a Christian King turning to the neglected -shrine. The expectation was not altogether fulfilled; but the Monarch, -nevertheless, performed the pilgrimage.” - -“We never heard of it,” exclaimed the travellers, looking at each other -with some manifestation of surprise. - -“That is to say,” I resumed, “that his Majesty performed it after -a fashion. He inquired the distance from his own country-house at -Pilnitz, to the Armenian Convent at the Holy City; and, in spite of -his education, he was nothing less than astonished, to find that it -was something more serious than a promenade to Töplitz. I do not know -if he had a vision of boiling his peas, as an English pilgrim did, of -whom I could tell you something; but he certainly experienced some -unpleasant sensations at the idea that, the way being so long, he might -chance to find himself without peas to boil. He wept at the reflection -that he might not only be a devout, but a hungry, King, while one-half -of Dresden were solacing their appetites on the terrace of Bruhl, and -the other, at the Baths of Link, or at the Bastei. He thought of the -dangers; but he _would_ be devout. The attendant pains were great; but -the resulting pleasures were not to be denied. In short, he would _not_ -go to Jerusalem; but he _would_ perform the pilgrimage. Accordingly, -the exact distance having been ascertained, he started from his room, -and walked the entire number of leagues by pacing up and down a long -gallery, deducting from the distance the amount of water passage, -which was but fair. If admiration had been great at the commencement, -surprising fun was excited during the performance. Every evening the -citizens of Dresden knew how far their religious Ruler had proceeded -on his way, or how far he would have proceeded, if he had but set out. -_Now_, he was breakfasting, in imagination, at Breslau; sleeping (in -fancy) at Olmutz; and passing, by a pleasant fiction, through Buda. -During two days that his Majesty suffered from a real bilious attack, -the result, perhaps, of a Barmecidal repast at Essek on the Drave, the -King rested at Belgrade, while confined to his bed in Dresden. But his -zeal soon re-invigorated his liver; and, as he glided to and fro by his -palace windows, the mystified multitude below learned that the Monarch -was lodging in the house of the Saxon Legation at Istamboul. The -pilgrim-traveller suffered a little from the heat (of the room) as he -descended from the western coast of Asia Minor; but the inconveniencies -of the route were things beneath the thoughts of him who--whether at -Bursa, Smyrna, or any other locality on his way--could ring his bell -in the Desert, and order Champagne out of his own cellar. The King was -puzzled one mid-day, (he had by calculation just reached Beyrout,) -his progress being checked by the unexpected arrival of a portion of -the imperial family from Vienna. Visitors of such condition must be -attended to; nevertheless, his pilgrimage must be continued; and he, -like the clever and facetious palmer that he was, did both. He attended -his guests with much politeness, during their stay of two days; and he -put down the time thus spent, as consumed in a sea voyage from Beyrout -to Acre. The moment they left, the royal pilgrim went ashore again, -and happily accomplished the remaining distance to Jerusalem, through -Nassara and Nablous, without any other hinderance or obstruction than -his going one night to see a French _vaudeville_, while supposed to -be enjoying his well-earned repose at Rama or Muddin. And thus was -accomplished that royal pilgrimage that was never performed. The King -reached Jerusalem without going there; and the people saw _him_ return -who had never departed.” - -“Well,” said Harold Knudtzen, “the Kings of Saxony are no longer such -simpletons. The present Monarch loves, indeed, good wine, ‘craftily -qualified;’ but he also, like Uzziah, King of Judah, loves husbandry. -Josephine herself had not half so frantic a passion for flowers as he; -and not for flowers alone in their beauty,--not for botany, either, -merely for amusement’s sake, but for phytology and pharmacy, as -connected with it.” - -“He lisped Linnæus,” said Löwenskiold, “before he could speak plainly.” - -“And, by reputation, he knew Tournefort better than he did Knecht -Rupert,” added Harold. - -“He himself told us, when we met him in Dalmatia,” continued the -latter, “that he could spell _Dodecandria_ and _Trigynia_ before -he could read Grimm’s Story-Book; and that he knew the meanings of -_monopetalous_ and _campaniform_ before he was acquainted with the -languages from which the terms were derived. I never saw a man so -eager in pursuit of _apetalous amentaceous_ flowers; and as for -_carryophylous_”---- - -“Leave off your abominable phrases!” said I, “and begin by telling -me how you two very modest fellows introduced yourselves to the -acquaintance of the Sovereign of Saxony.” - -“The introduction was effected through a very light-hearted and -intelligent fellow-botanizer, whom we met on our way from Zara up to -the mountains. We had all three lost our way while endeavouring to find -an _infundibuliform_”---- - -“Nay,” interrupted I, “I care not what you found, if you choose to tell -it in pentameters.” - -“Well,” resumed Knudtzen, “we were in a wild part of the -country,--weary, hungry, cold, and in the dark. Wanderers could not -well be in a worse plight. We were as _flûté_ as Juno’s columns near -the church of St. Helia; and the skeleton doing duty there for that of -St. Simeon of Judæa, the pride and palladium of the people of Zara, -looked in far better condition, and in, especially, better raiment, -than could be boasted of by us humble pedestrians. We had walked many -leagues, when we reached a sorry inn kept by a Gipsy, where we hoped -to find rest and refreshment, but were permitted to enjoy neither. Our -swarthy host stood in his door-way, like Horatius Cocles at the head of -the bridge. Beds he did not even profess to find for travellers. He had -not slept in one himself for years, and was none the worse, he said, -for the privation. Leopold asked for wine. - -“‘We have three sorts of wine,’ said the Gipsy, ‘which travellers like -yourselves once tasted and paid for. I have the very wines which the -seven Schwaben asked for in the Goldenes Kreutz at Ueberlingen.’ - -“‘What! old Sauerampfer?’ cried Löwenskiold. - -“‘The same,’ said our singular host. ‘It is not quite so sour as -vinegar, but it will pierce the marrow of your bones like a sword; -and it will so twist your mouth, that you shall never get it straight -again.’ - -“‘We will try something better than this acid water,’ said I: ‘we -will’---- - -“‘Try the Dreimännerswein? I am sorry there are only women in the -house!’ - -“‘What, in the name of all your saints in Zara, have your women to do -with the refreshment we need?’ - -“‘Do! nothing in the world! that is precisely it! You will want three -men each of you. For Dreimännerswein is three times as rough and ten -times as sour as vinegar; and he who drinks it must be held fast by two -men, while a third pours the liquid down his throat!’ - -“‘And what of the third of these Olympic beverages?’ said I. - -“‘It is called _Rachenputzer_, and has peculiar qualities too. He who -lies down to sleep with a flask of it in his body, must be aroused -every half-hour, and turned over. Otherwise a pint of Rachenputzer -would eat a hole right through his side!’ - -“The Gipsy laughed aloud as he uttered these words. We ourselves -laughed in despite of our vexation; and, somewhat startlingly, a fourth -voice took up the cachinnatory affection, and laughed even louder -than the original three. As the new-comer stood in the light of the -door-way, the landlord touched his cap, withdrew hastily into the -passage, and slammed the door in our faces, leaving us in Cimmerian -darkness, summer trousers, and a drizzling rain. The matter was no -longer risible, and we were beginning to be seriously annoyed, when the -mysterious stranger, whom we could but indistinctly see, invited us to -accompany him we knew not whither, and hospitably to partake of we knew -not what. We accepted the invitation most gratefully; and after a full -half-hour’s walk, we found ourselves on the skirts of a wood. In less -than half that time, we subsequently reached a neat little house within -the wood itself; and I do not think ten minutes had elapsed, ere we had -made such toilette as travellers may, and, with some doubts as to the -reality of the circumstance, detected ourselves in the act of eating -vermicelli soup, and wondering how it had reached us. - -“Before our repast was entirely dispatched, our host, in whom we saw a -young, well-made, and exceedingly amiable personage, informed us that -he was on a botanizing expedition for the benefit of an establishment -in Northern Germany; that he had been two months settled in the house -in which we then were, and that he had already given temporary shelter -to three plant-explorers, who had resorted, in their need, to the house -of Djewitzki, the Gipsy, and who had found to their sorrow, that it had -nothing of the quality of an inn about it, except the sign. - -“We talked of flowers that night,” continued Knudtzen, “as though they -were the foremost as well as the fairest things in all the world. But -we were sciolists in the science, and, contrasted with us, our host -was a sage. He knew that agrimony was under Jupiter, and angelica -under the Sun in Leo; that milfoil was under the influence of Venus, -and that garden basil was a herb of Mars. If every new idea be worth -the knowing, why, we gained knowledge by the information, that all the -dodders are under Saturn. We heard, for the first time, the virtues of -the plant enchusa.” - -“But,” interrupted Löwenskiold, “we were enabled to remind our host of -what Dioscorides says about it,--that if any who have newly eaten of it -do but spit in the mouth of a serpent, the reptile instantly dies.” - -“True,” said Knudtzen, “we have not been at Upsal for nothing.” - -“We may all aid each other by turns,” I remarked to my two friends, -as we arrived, after descending from the cathedral, on the old bridge -over the Moldau. A large herd of cattle was crossing it at the time; -and some of the foremost black oxen of this herd had bunches of _amara -dulcis_ (or, “woody nightshade”) hung round their necks; a common -custom in Germany, as I told the young travellers, and employed as a -remedy against dizziness in the head. - -“Of the owner or the ox?” said Harold, with a laugh. - -“Of him who wears it,” I rejoined. “But I want to see the entry of your -King of Saxony,” I continued, “and not to listen to the description, -uses, and property of herbs, plants, and flowers; maiden-hair, -moon-wort, and _ornithogalum spicatum_.” - -“So much the worse!” answered Knudtzen, “or Leopold and I had told -you what we learned from our entertainer of celandine; and what he -told us, from Pliny, of the anemone: how he recommended us, should we -ever visit Naples, never to retire to rest without strewing about our -bed-chamber some chopped leaves of arse-smart, a herb most murderous -to the numerous light troops cantoned in Neapolitan sleeping-rooms; -how balm was good for the bite of scorpions; how Pliny recommends -endweed for the quinsy;--and a thousand other matters touching leaves, -herbs, trees, flowers, roots, and barks. But I _will_ tell you that -our Amphitryon was light as well as learned, and loved fun as he did -flowers. He would discourse upon _ballets_ as well as battles; knew -all about logarithms and the new opera; told anecdotes; remembered -sermons; and, finally, lighted us to bed, with a Latin quotation, and -a brass candlestick. By day-break we were all out in the vicinity of -the house, looking for rare plants, with as much avidity as though they -equalled diamonds in value. We returned together to a breakfast exactly -adapted to our tastes and capacities; after which, our knapsacks were -once more on our shoulders, and, having made due acknowledgment for the -hospitality received, we begged to be permitted to know the name of our -entertainer. - -“‘You might call me,’ said he, ‘the Dalmatian botanist, if I -particularly cared about maintaining my _incognito_. But I hope we -shall meet again; and, if you ever visit Dresden, come to me, and you -shall have better fare than I have been able to afford you here. Ask -for the King of Saxony,’ he added, observing our inquiring looks; ‘and -in the mean time write your names on these tablets, and you shall find -that in Dresden I have not forgotten the night in Dalmatia.’” - -“And did you and the good Frederick Augustus ever meet again?” - -“Twice,” said Harold. “We saw one another for a moment, a month -afterwards, in Zara. He was accompanying the Emperor of Austria, -followed by a brilliant staff, to a review, and he gave us a smile of -recognition as he passed.” - -“The second time we met him,” added Leopold, “was in the gardens of the -Nymphenberg, near Munich. He was alone, amusing himself with feeding -the beavers. We spent a very agreeable hour with him in exploring that -pleasant retreat of the Kings of Bavaria; and, on parting, he repeated -his wish that we might meet again in Dresden,--a circumstance not very -unlikely, as we are now on our way to the Sächsische Schweitz.” - - - - -A FEW ODD GLASSES OF WINE. - - -The ancient people who loved the juice of the grape, kept in grateful -remembrance the names of the first planters of vines. Bacchus came -from India, through Egypt, into Europe; and he and his joyous company -made vineyards bloom amid many a desert. But the introduction of the -vine was not unopposed. The Chians accepted gratefully the rosy gift -from Œnopia; and the branch was hailed on its passage through Greece, -Sicily, and Italy. But in Greece the vines were destroyed wherever the -order of Lycurgus had force; and it was in Athens that, under King -Cranaus, men first diluted the potent draught with water. The gods -visited Greece with an inundation in consequence; but the Sicilians, -nothing daunted, adopted the temperance that was not sanctioned in -Olympus. Domitian did for the vines carried into Gaul, from Tuscany, -what Lycurgus did for those of Lacedæmonia; but Probus restored them to -the thirsty Gauls. Numa had taught his people to train the vine which -Janus had given them; and, by placing the statue of Minerva by the side -of that of Bacchus, he taught them a lesson which Domitian could not -comprehend. _He_ did _not_ know how to be merry and wise. - -It was long before the Egyptians acknowledged, by grateful use, the -excellence of the vine. The Scythians, some of the Persians, and the -Cappadocians would not drink the delusive draught upon any account; -but then these were barbarians. The Cappadocians especially not only -refused wine, but liberty. When the latter was offered them by the -Romans, the reply of the water-drinkers was, “that they would neither -accept liberty nor tolerate it!” It is to be remarked, however, that -all these people tardily attained to a better taste, like the great -Hippocrates himself, who, after touching on the advisability of mixing -wine with water, finally decides, like the enthusiastic Athenians, -that it is much better to take the beverage neat. He thinks that, when -grief is at the heart, pure wine is a specific; and no doubt Ariadne -thought so too, or she would not have turned to Bacchus after Theseus -had abandoned her to a short-lived inconsolability. Rome long honoured -Bacchus even as Ariadne did; and he who stole a bunch of grapes from -a vineyard incurred the penalty of death. Italy was, indeed, proud of -her vines and their produce. Of the two hundred varieties of wine then -known in the world, only fourscore were declared to be “excellent;” and -of these fourscore, nearly thirty were said to be natives of Italy. The -Chian wines, however, maintained for ages a marked pre-eminence. It -was a vase filled with wine of Chios that the poet Ion gave to every -Athenian who was present at the representation of a tragedy, for which -the poet was publicly crowned. “_Pauper es, ut solent poetæ_,” was -therefore, evidently, a line that could not be universally applied to the -poets of Greece. - -They loved old wine, too, did those old people. Wine, as old as the -years to which ravens are reported to attain,--a century, or even -two,--was served up at Rome. It was in consistency something like -the clotted cream of Devonshire. But there was wine of a more solid -consistency than this. I have elsewhere spoken of wine chopped in -pieces by an axe, before it could be used. This was because of an -accident which had happened to the wine; but the Romans had vinous -preparations which were served up in lumps; and we hear of wines being -kept in the chimney like modern bacon, and presented to the guests -“as hard as salt.” The ancients are also reported to have been able to -change red wine into white, by means of white of egg and bean-flour, -shaken together with the red wine in a flagon. It would require much -shaking before a degenerate modern could effect the mutation in -question. But if Cato could imitate the best Chian by means of his own -gooseberries, the other feat may hardly be disputed. It is certain that -the ancients could boldly swallow some questionable mixtures. Thus they -drank their wine with sea-water, in order to stimulate and whip up -energies exhausted by being over-driven the night before. Myrtle wine, -on the other hand, was copiously drunk at dawn by those who could not -sleep, but who could afford to remain in bed, and try to court Nature’s -soft nurse. - -There were Roman ladies who were not born before nerves were in -fashion. These had their especial drinks, sovereign in their effects, -to calm a nervous system too sorely excited. The most efficacious of -these was the “_Adynamon_,” or “powerless wine;” that is, powerless -to intoxicate, but excellent as an invigorator. It consisted simply -of a mixture of water and white-wort; and when Julia or Lalage had -tremblingly sipped thereof, her nerves were so braced, that she could -stand by and look on while Geta was flogged for an hour. - -On the point of secret drinking, the early Romans were quite as -particular and more merciless regarding their wives. When Micennius -detected his wife in the act of “sucking the monkey,” that is, -feloniously imbibing his wine through a straw at the bung-hole, he -then and there slew her. Complaint was made by her friends to Romulus; -but that chief and sole magistrate confined himself to the remark, -that she had been justly served. The wine-casks at home were for years -afterwards accounted sacred by the wives in the absence of their -lords. It would appear, too, by this incident, that wine was commonly -produced long before Numa introduced the improvement of training the -vine. There _were_ ladies who were rendered more cautious, but not -less bold, by the judgment pronounced by Romulus. We hear of one -caught in the fact by some members of her own family, who were so -disgusted with her immorality, that to preserve the respectability -of their house, they starved her to death. As years wore on, Judges -grew more good-natured, and only deprived tippling married women of -all right in their marriage portions. The Empire could hardly have -been inaugurated, before thirsty ladies adopted a custom that had been -denied them under the Commonwealth. Livia, the consort of Augustus, was -eighty-two when she died; and it was her boast that wine alone had made -her an octogenarian. What wine she drank is not stated. She may have -had a head that could bear old Falernian undiluted; but that was not -the case with many of her sex. The Roman ladies’ wine was, generally -speaking, little more than a sweet _tisane_, distilled from asparagus -or marjoram; from parsley, mint, rue, wild thyme, or pennyroyal. These -were sipped at breakfast-time; and the hour and the ingredient would -seem rather to point to Æsculapius than to Bacchus. They were, in fact, -medicinal drinks. The strong wines were drunk at other hours, and these -more innocent draughts were swallowed in the morning, with reflections -as bitter as the beverage. Wormwood wine, too, was a favourite morning -stimulant with intoxication; and it cannot be denied, that if modern -guests were condemned to a “pint of salt and water” with their wine, -the hilarity after dinner would not be of a very joyous aspect. Some of -the “sea-wines” of the Greeks, however, owed their name and reputation -chiefly to being immersed, in casks, in the ocean. Our Madeira may thus -be called a “sea-wine,” when it has been to the East Indies and back -for the benefit of its health. - -“Chambertin” was the favourite wine of Napoleon. The “_vinum dulce_” -obtained after drying the grapes in the sun, during three days, and -crushing them beneath the feet, in the hottest hours of the fourth -day, was the drink for which Commodus had a predilection. It was after -draughts of this beverage that he used to fight in the Circus as the -“Roman Hercules,” as proud of his performance as Mr. Ducrow, when he -used to ride round it in the same character. Commodus, too, like the -great equestrian, was an artist in his way; but he ruined the managers -by the exorbitant salaries which he wrung from them, whenever he -condescended to appear in the arena! - -For the games of the Circus, and for bread after the sport was over, -the Romans have been reproachfully pointed at as alone caring. -Considering the plight into which they had been plunged by their Rulers -and Priests, they seem to me to have been wise in their sentiment. One -circumstance is clear,--that they might dip their pennyworth of bread -into a deep cup of “sack” at the same price. Wine cost but sixpence a -gallon,--a sufficient quantity for half-a-dozen gentlemen just returned -from the Circus; or for half-a-dozen ladies, who had learned to break -through the total-abstinence principle of the women of the Republic. -There was much wine to be had for a trifling outlay of money. In -Greece, it was cheaper still. In Athens, wine was dear at fourpence per -gallon; and ordinarily, Davus, out on a holiday, might get drunk upon -four quarts of it, at a halfpenny per quart; but Chremes would nearly -flay him alive, if he caught him before he was sober. - -I may add, that this was the price of wine, that is, of French wine, in -England, under John. A tun of Rochelle wine cost twenty shillings, and -it was retailed at fourpence per gallon. But taking the value of money -into consideration, this was rather a high price. - -When Probus restored the vine to the Gauls, he sent cuttings of -the precious plant into Britain; and many localities in the south -part of the island produced a very respectable beverage, of which -the parent stock had no reason to be ashamed. “As sure as God is in -Gloucestershire!” was a common phrase when that picturesque county was -covered with monasteries; and many of the monastic gardens were famous -for their grapes and the liquor distilled from them. The little village -of Durweston, near Blandford, in Dorsetshire, was once as remarkable -for its peculiar grape and its product, as that restricted Rhenish -locality, whose grapes produce the Lieb Frauenmilch. Of the respective -merits of the English grapes, I will say nothing. The merits of French -wines have, however, occupied the attention of rival medical colleges, -whose professors have shed much ink, and cracked whole legions of -bottles, in order to discuss, rather than settle, the divers deserts -of Burgundy and Champagne. The question is yet an undecided one, as is -also that respecting the devotion of the Gauls to the grapes. Arnaud -de Villeneuve praises the mediæval people of France, who intoxicated -themselves monthly upon hygienic principles. While other writers -assert, that “in the middle ages, and in the sixteenth century, -intoxication was severely punished in France.” I am the more inclined -to believe in the latter assertion, as the laws against drinking and -drinkers, from Charlemagne to Francis I., have often been cited; and -they are marked by a severity--which Rabelais did not care for, a -button! - -Our own wine-trade with France began after the Norman Conquest, and -was very considerable when our English Kings were proprietors of the -French wine districts. About the middle of the sixteenth century, the -_maximum_ price of wine was fixed at twelve-pence per gallon; but at -this time no one was allowed to have in his house a measure that would -contain above ten gallons, unless, indeed, he were of noble birth, or -could expend a hundred marks annually. - -Of all French wines, that of Burgundy is the most difficult of -carriage. Some Burgundies cannot bear it at all; others are transported -in bottles covered with a cottony paper, or bedded in salt. Pure -Burgundy exhilarates without intoxicating; and there is not a liver -complaint in a hogshead of it. It is the alcoholic wines that massacre -the _jecur_. - -The Burgundy vineyards were originally in connexion with the Burgundian -monasteries, and there were no better _vignerons_ than the monks. The -modern quality of the wine is inferior to its ancient reputation, -simply because modern proprietors are not artistical monks, but mere -money-makers. Napoleon adhered to the wine as long as he could; but at -St. Helena he took to Bordeaux,--Chambertin would have lost its best -qualities in the voyage thither. - -The Emperor was, perhaps, the best judge of his favourite Chambertin -that France ever could boast of, except, probably, in the case of -the good Lindsay, of Balcarras, Bishop of Kildare. This Prelate long -resided at Tours, and was an excellent connoisseur in wine, though he -modestly used to say, “_If_ I know any thing, it is the management -of turnip crops and mangel-wurzel.” It is no disparagement of the -episcopal bench to say, that many of its members could not justifiably -make a similar boast. Lord Brougham, I believe, used to say, that “if -_he_ knew any thing, it was, that claret should always be drunk after -game.” There is an imperial authority in favour of Champagne. When -the Emperor Wenceslaus visited France in the fourteenth century, to -negotiate with Charles VI., it was impossible ever to get him sober -to a conference. “It was no matter,” he said; “they might decide as -they liked, and he would drink as _he_ liked; and thus both parties -would be on an equality.” There is something curious in the caprices of -Champagne; particularly of the _vin mousseux_, or effervescing wine. In -the same cellar, the same wine, all similarly placed, will _mousser_ -in some bottles, and not in others. It will even, when poured from the -same bottle, _mousser_ in some glasses into which it is poured, while -in others it will fall as heavily placid as oil. In warm weather, -however, a great Champagne cellar is a very lively place; so lively, -that it is unsafe to walk through the serried hosts of bottles, without -a wire mask over the face. - -There are one or two sorts of French wine which are considered to be -improved by letting a small portion of the stalk be trodden in with -the grape. But, probably, in the selection of the grape, there is no -where such care taken, as in the matter of imperial Tokay. The grapes -are selected with the greatest care; sometimes a second selection -is made from the first selected lot. No grape is chosen that is not -perfectly sound. The resulting wine is of a highly delicious flavour; -but I need not add, that the general public know but very little about -it. To them is vouchsafed the brewage from the damaged grape, or the -distillation of the refuse of the first grape. The product is an acid -one, resembling moderately good Rhine wine; but it is _not_ Tokay. - -“Old Wortley Montague” was a great drinker of Tokay. He lived to the -patriarchal age of eighty-three. Gray, writing of him, says, that -it was not mere avarice, and its companion, abstinence, that kept -him alive so long. He imported his own wine from Hungary, in greater -quantity than he could use, and he sold the overplus,--drinking himself -a half-pint every day,--for any price he chose to set upon it. It was a -fashionable wine with the drinkers of the last century. Walpole records -its being offered at a supper given by Miss Chudleigh to the Duke of -Kingston, her then “protector.” “At supper she offered him Tokay, and -told him she believed he would find it good.” The entertainment was -splendid, and untidy. “The supper was in two rooms, and very fine; and -on all the sideboards, and _even on the chairs_, were pyramids and -troughs of strawberries and cherries; you would have thought she was -kept by Vertumnus!” - -Our ancient acquaintance, “mustard,” was originally raised to the -character of “wine,” in common with some other of the seeds used at -ancient tables. Our warm friend mustard was the _mustum ardens_, or -“hot wine.” It was held as good for persons of bilious temperament, and -as being more beneficial in summer than in winter. Coriander was used -in the same season. It was mixed with vinegar, and poured over meat -to preserve its freshness. There are some men who faint at the smell -of linseed. A bread made therefrom was once, however, readily eaten -by various European and Asiatic people. Cakes made of it were placed -before the altars of gods,--men making willing sacrifice of what they -accounted as of small value. Similar sacrifices are made daily even -now; only they are not in the form of aniseed cakes. - -It is said of the Arabs, that they manufactured an intoxicating wine -from linseed. This beverage was worthy of being served with that -strange dish at dessert,--fried hempseed,--a dish that would have been -appropriate enough at a highwayman’s last supper, the night before he -rode to Tyburn. - -It used to be said of old, that wine was a sympathetic liquor; and -this is alluded to by more than one writer. Sir Kenelm Digby, in his -“Dissertation on the Cure of Wounds,” makes a singular remark with -respect to wine. “The wine-merchants observe every where, (where there -is wine,) that during the season the vines are in the flower, the wines -in the cellar make a kind of fermentation, and percolate forth a little -white lee (which I think they call ‘the mother of the wine’) upon the -surface of the wine, which continues in a kind of disorder till the -flower of the vines be fallen; and then, this agitation being ceased, -all the wine returns to the same state as it was in before.” - -It was a custom with the ancients to swallow, to the health of their -mistresses, as many cups or glasses as there were letters in her name. -To this custom Martial refers:-- - - “_Nævia sex cyathis, septem Justina bibatur, Quinque Lycas, - Lyde quatuor, Ida tribus: Omnis ab infuso numeretur amica - Falerno._” - -It became us, as a more mechanical people, to drink upon pegs rather -than letters: the peg-tankards were said to be the invention of King -Edgar. The two-gallon measure had eight pegs; and the half-pint, from -peg to peg, was deemed a fitting draught for an honest man; but as -the statute, or custom, did not define how often the toper might be -permitted to indulge in this measure, people of thirsty propensities -got rather more inebriated than they had dared to be previously. As -the half-pint was roughly set down as the _maximum_ of their draught, -it was a point of honour with them never to drink less,--and to drink -to that extent as often as opportunity offered. The Council of London -(Archbishop Anselm’s “Canons,” A.D. 1102) expressly warned the Clergy -against the perils of peg-drinking; but the same Council looked upon -perukes as being quite as perilous as these pegged half-pints, and -denounced wigs with as much intensity as tankards,--and to about as -much purpose. Karloman understood the Ecclesiastics better; at least, -if traditionary history be worthy of any respect. - -Among the legends of the Rhine connected with my present subject of -wine, there is one which is worth mentioning. The great Karloman, who -loved good liquor, bequeathed to the brotherhood of Monks at Rheinfeld -a marvellous and covetable butt of wine, which had not only the merit -of being of first-rate quality, but which never decreased, though it -was continually running at the spigot! This wine was for the use of -the brethren; but the good Emperor also left a sum of money which he -desired should be spent in treating visitors to the monastery with good -Rhenish wine. When a weary traveller claimed the hospitality of the -Monks, he was immediately conducted to an inner apartment. Here he was -invested with the collar of Karloman, and gravely informed that, it -being necessary that he should be baptized, he had only to say whether -he preferred that the ceremony should be performed with wine or with -water. If, like an honest fellow, he selected wine, he was gently -constrained to swallow three monster bumpers of Muscatel. He was then -crowned with a parcel-gilt coronet, and so became installed one of -the jolly Knaves of St. Goar. There were some privileges attached to -this dignity; among others, was the right to fish on the summit of the -Lurley Berg, where there is no water; and of hunting on the sand-banks -of the Rhine, where there is not safe footing for a sparrow. The poor -temperate wight, on the other hand, who preferred the modest medium of -water for the ceremony of his baptism, was proclaimed a blind Heathen, -and was immediately drenched to the skin, from outpouring buckets of -water that were showered upon him in all directions. Such was the -solemnity of the Hänsel, as instituted by Karloman. This Emperor’s -affection for the Rhine and its vicinity was as strong as that of an -old gastronomic English Bishop for his native island. The episcopal -attachment is exemplified in the story of the Prelate’s last moments, -when his faithful servant John endeavoured to encourage him. “Be -comforted, my Lord,” said John: “your Lordship is going to a better -place.” “Ah, John!” said the Bishop, “there is no place like old -England!” - -There was a practice among the Romans with regard to wine, which -should win the respect of all our Inns of Court. All law business was -suspended during vintage time. “_Sanè_,” says Minucius Felix, “_et -ad vindemiam feriæ judiciorum curam relaxaverunt_;” and this was no -poor holiday: it was the Long Vacation of the Roman bar, extending, -as the Rev. Hubert Ashton Holden remarks, in his admirable edition of -the “_Octavius_,” from August 22nd to October 15th. And here let me -remark, parenthetically, how much preferable it would be to make a -school-book of the “_Octavius_” of Minucius Felix, so rich in early -Christian information, and so pure in its Latinity, rather than pursue -the old course of letting boys read Ovid and similar authors. The Abbé -Gaume, in his “_Ver Rongeur_,” traces all the evils by which society -is afflicted, to the study of erotic Latin and Greek authors. The -Abbé rushes from one extreme into its opposite, and wishes to confine -our sons to the mawkish Latinity of the Lives of the Saints, and the -Pastorals (so unlike the Eclogues) of Bishops. The work of Minucius -Felix just occupies the safe medium of the two remote points,--erotic -Heathenism, and Monkish mendacity, told with much violation of grammar. -It is a book that ought to be on the list of works to be studied in -every locality devoted to the education of “ingenuous youth.” - -It is hardly necessary to write of the effects of wine on the bodily -economy. They are too familiarly known. There was an old adage that-- - - “He who goes to bed, and goes to bed sober, - Falls as the leaves do, and dies in October; - But he who goes to bed, and goes to bed mellow, - Lives as he ought to do, and dies a good fellow.” - -This is poor poetry, worse sentiment, and deadly counsel. Half the -evils that torture men arise from intemperance; and, next to excess -in alcohol, immoderation in wine is the most fatal practice to which -humanity can bind itself slave. An Arab says of his horse, that the -horse’s belly is the measure of its corn. Men are too apt to allow a -similar metage with respect to themselves in the matter of wine. It -were safer to remember that we cannot drink too little, and that we -soon may be drinking too much. Panard very justly says,-- - - “_Se piquer d’être grand buveur, - Est un abus qui je déplore. - Fuyons ce titre peu flatteur; - C’est un honneur qui déshonore. - Quand on boît trop, on s’assoupit, - Et l’on tombe en délire: - Buvons pour avoir de l’esprit, - Et non pour le détruire._” - -As good advice, more eloquently delivered, is given by our own Herbert, -a poet next to Shakespeare for felicity of expression. Our reverend -minstrel and monitor says,-- - - “Drink not the third glass, which thou canst not tame - When once it is within thee, but before - May’st rule it as thou list; and pour the shame, - Which it would pour on thee, upon the floor. - It is most just to throw that on the ground, - Which would throw _me_ there, if I keep the round.” - -And again:-- - - “If reason move not, gallants, quit the room; - (All in a shipwreck shift their several way;) - Let not a common ruin thee entomb; - Be not a beast in courtesy, but stay, - Stay at the third cup, or forego the place: - Wine, above all things, does God’s stamp deface.” - -This is admirable counsel, logic, and theology. The people who least -stood in need of such a triad of excellent aids to good living were the -Egyptians, at that particular period of their career when they confined -themselves to drinking - - “Beer small as comfort, dead as charity.” - -And this may naturally lead us to look in, for a moment, on both the -ancient and the modern Egyptians, when seated at table. But, previous -to doing so, there is a little philological matter I would fain settle, -as far as so indifferent an authority may presume to do so, and which -may interest, not merely wine-bibbers, but etymologists, and zealous -correspondents to “Notes and Queries.” It may be very briefly discussed. - -I have noticed, in another page, the fact that nearly all our -old-fashioned drinking phrases are but corruptions of foreign terms. -A “carouse,” for instance, is derived from “_gar aus_,” “altogether -empty,” sufficiently indicative of what a reveller was to do with -his full glass. There is one--a rather vulgar term--of the origin of -which, however, I have never heard any account. But I think I may have -discovered it in a little German poem, by Pfarrius, called “_Der Trunk -aus dem Stiefel_,” and which, thus roughly done into English, may serve -to show - - -THE ORIGIN OF “BOOSEY.” - - In the Rheingraf’s hall were of Knights a score, - And they drained their goblets o’er and o’er, - And the torches they flung a lurid glow - On the Knights who were drinking there below. - - “Ho, ho!” said the Rheingraf, “Sir Knights, I find, - Our courier has left a boot behind; - He who can empty it off at a breath,-- - The Hufflesheim village is his till death.” - - Then laughing, he filled the boot to the rim, - Till the bright red wine flowed over the brim; - And said, as he mark’d their sparkling eyes,-- - “Good luck to you, Knights--you know the prize!” - - Then Johann von Sponheim sat silent by, - But pushed his neighbour to rise and try; - And Meinhart, his neighbour, could nothing do - But scowl at the boot, and sit silent too. - - Old Florsheim, he nervously stroked his beard; - And Kunz von Stromberg spoke never a word; - And even the giant Chaplain stared - At the monster boot, as though he were scared. - - Then Boos von Waldeck did loudly call,-- - “Here, hand me that thimble!” and “Health to all!” - And then, in one breath, to the very last drain, - He drank, and fell back on his seat again, - - And said, “O, Sir Rheingraf, it were my mind, - Had the fellow his other boot left behind, - To empty that, too, at a breath; and take - For my prize Norheim village, near the lake.” - - Then loud laughed they all at Waldeck’s good jest,-- - Of all landless tipplers, till then, the best; - But the Rheingraf, he kept his knightly word,-- - And Boos of the Boot was Hufflesheim’s lord! - -If therein be not the origin of “boosey,” why, let the lexicographers -look to it. But my readers will have had enough of these uncouth names. -I have now to introduce them to hosts with names equally unmusical; -but, luckily, we have now to do more with acts than appellations, -and therewith pass we to golden Egypt, and her well-spread boards. I -will only first add another word respecting spirits, as a beverage. -All authorities are agreed, that reason has no more deadly foe than -alcohol. The effects of the latter are well described by Dr. Winslow, -whom we have previously quoted in the matter of mental dietetics,--a -gentleman who might, with justice, have given a plump denial to the -remark of Macbeth, had it been addressed to Dr. Winslow, when the -royal patient uncivilly told his medical adviser, “Thou canst not -minister to a mind diseased.” Dr. Winslow says: “The alcoholic elements -introduced into the blood, and brought into immediate contact with -the tissues of different organs, will derange the functions which -they are severally destined to perform; and the amount and character -of the mischief so produced will correspond with, and be modified by, -the peculiarities of their individual organic structure. With these -facts before us, when we consider the delicate structure of the brain, -as revealed to us by the progress of microscopic anatomy, we must be -prepared for the physical and mental derangement which must arise, -either from the alcohol itself, or its elements, being brought into -direct contact with the vesicular neurine or granular matter entering -into the composition of its white and grey substance. According to our -most recent physiological views, the vesicular matter is the source -of nervous power, and associated, as the material instrument of the -mind, with all its manifestations, whether in the simple exercise -of perception, or the more complicated operations of the thinking -principle. We are then to conceive the simple or organic structure -dedicated to this high function brought into contact with irritating -and noxious elements. The result must obviously be a disturbance in the -manifestations of the mind proportioned to the organic derangements so -produced; and without, therefore, taking a materialistic view of the -changes which take place, the obliteration of some, and the derangement -of other of the intellectual faculties, are hereby satisfactorily -accounted for. It is certain, that when the circulation in the grey -matter of the convolutions is retarded by congestion, or accelerated -by unwonted stimulation, there is a corresponding state of stupor or -mental activity, amounting even to delirium, produced; and, indeed, it -has been suggested, by some of our most eminent physiologists, that -every idea of the mind is associated with a corresponding change in -some part, or parts, of the vesicular surface.” And if they who sit -“amid bumpers brightening,” could only hold this truth in sober memory, -there would be less imbibed at night, and more sunshine in their souls -on the morrow. And now let us pass to the cradle of wisdom, the ancient -Misraim, where, despite the national boast, folly was, perhaps, as much -deified as in any locality upon earth. - -Yes, let us now to ancient Egypt, where, as good old Herbert so finely -expresses it,-- - - “Men did sow - Gardens of gods, which every year did grow - Fresh and fine deities. They were at great cost - Who for a god clearly a sallet lost! - O, what a thing is man devoid of grace, - Adoring garlic with a humble face! - Begging his food of that which he may eat, - Starving the while he worshippeth his meat! - Who makes a root a god, how low is he, - If God and man be severed infinitely! - What wretchedness can give him any room, - Whose house is foul, while he adores his broom?” - - - - -THE TABLE OF THE ANCIENT AND MODERN EGYPTIANS. - - -If neither the grave of the Pharaohs nor physiology will, nor Dr. -Hincke nor Chevalier Bunsen can, reveal to us the secret of the -origin of the Egyptians, we, at all events, know that they were -majestically-minded with respect to the table. The science of living -was well understood by them; and the science of killing was splendidly -rewarded; seeing that the soldiery, besides liberal pay, allowance of -land, and exemption from tribute, received daily five pounds of bread, -two of meat, and a quart of wine. With such rations they ought not to -have been beaten by the Persians, when the latter had so degenerated, -that their almost sole national boast was, that they could drink deeper -than any other men, without seeming half so drunk. The Egyptians, too, -were tolerably stout hands, and heads to boot, at the wine-pot; and -there were few among even their Kings who, like the King of Castile, -would have choked of thirst, because the grand butler was not by to -hand the cup. - -The pulse and fruits of Egypt, the fish of the Nile, the corn -waving in its fields, which needed neither sun nor rain to exhibit -productiveness,--all these were the envy, and partly the support, of -surrounding nations. The corn was especially prized; and a reported -threat of St. Athanasius to obstruct the importation of Egyptian corn -into Constantinople, threw the Emperor Constantine into a fit of -mingled fright, fever, and fury. - -An Egyptian Squire commonly possessed a hundred or two cows and oxen, -three hundred rams, four times that number of goats, and five times -that number of swine, for the supply of his own little household. The -apartments in the mansions of these gentlemen were beautifully painted, -and were furnished with tables, chairs, and couches which have supplied -models for the upholstery of modern times. They were lovers of music, -and willingly suspended conversation at their feasts, in order to -listen to the “concord of sweet sounds.” - -Cleopatra was but a febrile creature; but she sat down with good -appetite, and love in her eyes, to the banquet given by Antony, at -which fifteen whole boars smoked upon the board. But Cleopatra, frail -and fragile, like many thin people, ate heartily; and when she herself -treated Cæsar, it was with such a banquet that slaves died to procure -it, and the guests who were present wondered at the rarities of which -they partook. There was every thing there that gastronomy could think -of, except mutton,--an exception in favour of the divine Ammon with the -ram-like head. I believe that even roast beef and plum-pudding were not -lacking; for these delicacies were popular in Thebes, as was broiled -and salted goose, with good brown stout, strong barley-wine, to cheer -the spirits and assist digestion. - -Excessively proud, too, were the old Egyptians of their culinary -ability. When the Egyptians, under their King, attacked Ochus, -Sovereign of Persia, the former were thoroughly beaten, and their -Monarch was captured. Ochus treated him as courteously as the Black -Prince did John of France, and invited him to his own table, at the -simplicity of which the Egyptian laughed outright. “Prince,” said -the uncourteous captive, “if you would really like to know how happy -Kings should feed, just let my cooks--if you have caught the rascals, -as you have me--prepare you a true Egyptian supper.” Ochus consented, -enjoyed himself amazingly at the banquet, and then, turning to his -Egyptian prisoner, punished him by saying, “Why, what a sorry fool -art thou, whose ambition has lost thee such repasts, and reduced thee -to henceforth envy, as thou wilt, the moderate meals that suffice us -honest Persians!” The implied threat was worse than the sentiment. - -The dinner-table of the Egyptians was sometimes covered with a linen -cloth imitating palm-leaves, sometimes left uncovered. Plates and -knives, but not forks, were in common use. In place of the latter -were short-handled spoons of gold, silver, ivory, tortoise-shell, or -alabaster. The dining-table was circular: ornamented rolls of wheaten -bread were placed before each guest; and supplies of the same were -heaped in gay-looking baskets on the side-board, where also were kept -the wine, the water, ewer, and napkins, which slaves, fair or swarthy, -Greek or Negro, were ready to present at the bidding of the guests. - -Previous to sitting down to the repast, the company put a spur to their -appetite, and a cordial to their stomach, in the shape of pungent -vegetables or strong _liqueurs_. Glasses for beer, decanters and -goblets for wine, appear among the ancient pictorial illustrations of -Egyptian table-furniture. It would seem, too, from the position of -those at table, that they rose from their chairs to challenge each -other to drink, to propose toasts or healths, or to inflict speeches -upon the vexed ears of compulsory listeners. - -In these “counterfeit presentments” of Egyptian life may be seen the -entire science of epicureanism, and its practical application put into -action. The poultry-yard, the slaughter-houses, the markets and the -kitchen, are so graphically depicted, that we see at once, that the art -of making life comfortable was one most profoundly respected by the -ancient and mysterious people. The selecting, purchasing, and killing -are vividly portrayed. The cooking is carried on in a large bronze -caldron, on a tripod, over a fire, which is stirred by an under-cook, -with a poker that may have been bought any day at Rippon and Burton’s. -The butcher is there, too, in order decently to dissect the fowls; -and our ancient friend carries before him the identical steel for -sharpening his knife, which may be seen any day hanging from the waists -of the butchers of London. There is a pastrycook, also, in one of -these “civil monuments of Egypt,” who is carrying a tray of tartlets -on his head; and to the tray is appended the inscription signifying -“one thousand,” which probably means, that this “Birch, Pyramid-place, -Cairo,” drives such a trade, that he makes and sells a thousand tarts -or a thousand varieties of them daily. - -A dinner _fresco_, in a tomb at Thebes, shows us an entertainment given -by a naval officer to some of his professional brethren. This _fresco_ -is described as being in compartments, and, perhaps, the most curious -is that in which “you see on one side the arrival of an aristocratic -guest, in his chariot, attended by a train of running footmen, one -of whom hastens forward to announce his arrival by a knock at the -door, sufficient to satisfy the critical ear, and rouse the somnolent -obesity, of the sleepiest and fattest hall-porter in Grosvenor -Square. The other compartment presents you with a _coup-d’œil_ of the -poultry-yard, shambles, pantry, and kitchen; and is completed by a -side view of a novel incident. A grey-headed mendicant, attended by -his faithful dog, and who might pass for Ulysses at his palace-gate, -is receiving, from the hands of a deformed, but charitable, menial, a -bull’s head, and a draught of that beer, for the invention of which we -are beholden to the Thebans.” - -The story of Mycerinus, the Egyptian King, is grandly told by Mr. -Arnold, in his popular volume of poems; and, succinctly, by Herodotus. -An incident of the story connects it with our subject. Mycerinus -was persecuted by the gods for rendering Egypt happy, instead of -oppressing it, like his predecessors, and as the oracles had declared -it should be oppressed for many years to come. In punishment for such -impious piety, as his offence may be called, poor Mycerinus was told by -the oracle at Buto, that he should live only six years longer. “When -Mycerinus heard this, seeing that his sentence was now pronounced -against him, he ordered a great number of lamps to be made, and, having -lighted them, whenever night came on, he drank and enjoyed himself, -never ceasing night or day, roaming about the marshes and groves, -wherever he could hear of places most suited for pleasure; and he had -recourse to this artifice for the purpose of convicting the oracle of -falsehood, that by turning the nights into days, he might live twelve -years instead of six.” Poor fool! He probably succeeded in his object, -but after a sorry fashion. It may be good poetry to say that-- - - “The best of all ways - To lengthen our days - Is to take a few hours from night, my dear;” - -but it is bad in principle, and universally unsuccessful in practice. - -A recent describer of his travels in Egypt has said, that nothing is -so easy as to show that the Egyptians gave jovial banquets within the -sepulchral hall of tombs. I think that nothing would be so difficult -as to prove this. The nearest approach to it would be the case of the -skeleton that was carried about at Egyptian banquets, the bearer, at -the same time, warning the guests that, eat, drink, and laugh as they -might, to _that_ “complexion they must come” at last. The assertion, -however, was probably made, in part, to excuse a barbarous festival, at -which the writer was present, in the tombs of Eilythyias. The _locale_ -was one of the huge halls, whose colossal columns serve to support the -huger mountain that is above. The dinner, we are told, was laid out -between the columns, with strings of small lamps suspended in festoons -over head. - -The civilized and Christian ladies and gentlemen who were the guests -at this feast, broke up the coffins of the pagan and barbarian Kings -and Queens, in order to procure wood to boil their vegetables! They -laughed, joked, and sang joyous songs, and wondered what the buried -majesty of Misraim would say, could it burst its cerements, and see -northern men of unknown tongues drinking Champagne at its august -feet. And if, for a moment, a reflecting guest contrasted the savage -revelry with the ensigns hung out by the King of Terrors to intimate -his irresistible dominion over the company,--why, reflection was soon -banished by the appearance of the Awalim and Ghawazi girls, whom strong -coffee and more potent brandy had primed for their lascivious dancing. -“O Father Abraham! what these Christians are!” - -These tombs are full of instruction to those who can read them. They -show us that the chief butler and cook--the “keeper of the drinks,” and -the Prince (_sar_) of his cooks--were probably Princes of the blood -of Pharaoh. In all pictorial representations of banquets, it is the -eldest son who hands the viands to his father, the eldest daughter to -the mother. The bill of fare of the trimestrial banquet of the dead, -held in the noble hall of the tomb of Nahrai at Benihassan, is still -extant. It is as long as that of a score of Lord Mayors’; and hundreds -of men were fed from what remained. All the retainers of Nahrai, who -was a Prince in Egypt a full century before the time of Joseph, were -buried in the vaults beneath the hall; and every one who could claim -kindred with them had a right to partake of the feast. The manner of -service appears to have been after this fashion:--The youngest children -of the house received the viands from the cooks, and those children -passed them on to the elder, until they reached the first-born, -who placed the dish at the feet of his sire, by whom a portion was -cut off, which the daughters, according to their age, transferred -from one to the other till it reached the separate table of their -mother. All remained standing, at these festival-dinners, until the -two seniors of the house had finished the first dishes of the repast. -Portions from these were then served to the children, when the whole -party sat down together; the children eating of the remains of the -first dish, while “the governor” and his lady partook of the integral -second; and so on, through a long service. On the wall of a tomb at -Ghizeh,--that of Eimei, one of the Princes of the Saphis,--the bill of -fare directs ninety-eight dishes to be placed, at once, on the table, -at the fortnightly banquets which glad survivors held in honour of the -departed, who appear to me always to enjoy an immense advantage over -those whom they leave behind them. - -But now let us look in upon the modern Egyptian. If he be the master -of a house, while he is at ablutions and prayers, his wife is making -his coffee; and it is to be hoped that she is allowed the privilege -alluded to in the Augustinian sentiment, _orat qui laborat_. The cup -of coffee and pipe, taken early, generally suffice the Egyptian till -noon, at which hour comes the actual breakfast, usually consisting of -bread, butter, eggs, cheese, clotted cream, or curdled milk, with, -perhaps, a thin pastry, saturated with butter, folded like a pancake, -and sprinkled with sugar. A dish of horse-beans (terrific dish!) -sometimes adorns the table. They have been slowly simmering through -a whole night in an earthen vessel, buried up to the neck in the hot -ashes of an oven; and the sauce for this indigestible dish is linseed -oil or butter, and, perhaps, a little lime-juice. Those to whom butter -is difficult of procuring, or to whom good dinners are rarities, often -make a meal, and are content, upon dry bread dipped in a mixture of -salt, pepper, wild marjoram, with various other herbs, pungent seeds, -and a quantity of chickpeas. The bread is dipped into this _ragoût_, -and so eaten. - -The supper is the principal meal in Egypt. The cooking is especially -for this repast; and what remains is appropriated for the next day’s -dinner, despite the apophthegm of Boileau, that-- - - “_Un dîner réchauffé ne vaut jamais rien._” - -It is only an amiable _paterfamilias_ that dines with his wives and -children; and, in truth, where the wife appears in the plural number, -the husband can hardly expect a quiet meal. The washing before eating -is almost of universal observation. The table is a round tray placed -low, so that the squatters on the ground may conveniently eat thereat. -Bread and limes are placed on the tray. The bread is round, as among -the ancient Egyptians, and often serves as a plate. The spoons, too, -are of the materials I have named in speaking of the older nation. -The dishes are of tinned copper or china; and several are put upon -the table at one time. Among the Turks, only _one_ dish appears at -a time. Twelve persons, with one knee on the ground and the other -(the right) raised, may sit round a tray three feet in diameter. Each -guest tucks up his right sleeve, and prepares for his work, after -imitating the master of the house in uttering a low _Bismillah_, “In -the name of God.” The host sets the second example of commencing -to eat; and the guests again follow the good precedent. Knives and -forks are not used; spoons only for food like soups and rice. The -thumb and two forefingers are the instruments otherwise employed; and -they are employed delicately enough. Generally, a piece of bread is -taken, doubled together, and dipped into the dish, so as to enclose -the morsel of meat which the guest designs for himself, or, if it be -a savoury bit, and _he_ be courteous, intended for presentation to -his neighbour. The food is suited to such practices. It consists of -stewed meats, with vegetables of endless variety, or of small morsels -of mutton or lamb, roasted on skewers: clarified butter compensates for -want of fat in the meat. A fowl is summarily torn asunder by two hands, -either of the same person, or the right hands of two guests. Dexterous -fellows, like our first-rate carvers, will “joint” a fowl with one -hand. The Arabs do not use the left hand at all at table, because it is -used for unclean purposes. The disjointing is easily done; and even a -whole lamb, stuffed with pistachio nuts, may be pulled to pieces much -more easily than we divide a chicken. Water-melons, sliced, set to -cool, and watched, lest serpents should approach, and poison the dish -by their breath, generally form, when in season, a part of an Egyptian -meal,--a meal which usually closes with a dish of boiled rice, mixed -with butter, salt, and pepper; but occasionally this dish is followed -by a bowl of water, with raisins that have been boiled in it, and sugar -added, with a little rose-water, to give it an odour of refinement. A -bottle of six-year-old port is preferable. - -As soon as each person has satisfied his appetite, he ceases, murmurs, -“Praise be to God!” drinks his sweetened water, rises, and goes his -way. They who drink wine, do it in private, or with confidential -friends, call it “rum” to save their orthodoxy; and if a visitor call -while this process is going on, the ready servant informs him that his -master is abroad or in the harem. Sweet drinks and sherbets, approved -by the Law and _the_ Prophet, are in common use, and pipes and prayer -end “the well-spent day.” - -Egyptian women have some little fancies connected with the table that -may be mentioned. In order to achieve that proportion of obesity -which constitutes the beautiful, they eat mashed beetles, and they -chew frankincense and laudanum, to perfume the breath. The Egyptian -peasantry live upon the very sparest of diets, not often being able to -procure even rice. They, like the Bedouins, are, however, remarkable -for strength and health; but an Egyptian or Bedouin diet would not -produce the same results in an English climate. - -It will have been observed, that in Egypt each man says his own -“grace,” before and after meat, for himself. The same custom prevails -in Servia. At table, instead of one person asking for a blessing on the -food, each individual expresses, _in his own words_, (an improvement on -the Egyptian plan,) his gratitude to the Supreme Being. In drinking, -the toast or sentiment of the Servian is, “To the glory of God!” and -a very excellent sentiment, only the Servian is apt to get very drunk -over it. The Servian qualification for a chairman at a convivial party -is, that he should be able to deliver an extempore prayer; and a very -good qualification, provided it be not a mere formality, and that -the spirit of prayer be the strongest spirit there. The combination, -however, of Collects and conviviality reminds me of some strange -parties at old-fashioned houses in our provincial towns, where comic -songs are followed by discussions on the Millennium, and seed-cake and -ginger wine season both. - -I have spoken more of the achievements of Egyptian cookery, than of the -quality of the cooks. The fact is, that it is far more easy to speak -decidedly of the former, than of the latter. Mr. St. John describes -the Arab cooks in Egypt as being great gastronomers, and serving up -“their dishes in a style which could not have displeased Elagabalus -himself!” Mr. Lane equally lauds their excellence, and the delicacy of -the manner of eating. Herr Werne, on the other hand,--and he is a man -of wide experience in this matter,--speaks very differently both of -Turkish eating and Arab cooking in Egypt. Werne, indeed, speaks of the -remote district of Bellad Sudam, rather than of Cairo and Alexandria; -but his observations have an extensive application, nevertheless. He -is disgusted with the general want of cleanliness; and he remarks, -that “the cooks are dirtier in themselves, and more filthy in their -dress, than any other class of people.” The dirty Arab cook is in a -dirty kitchen, a dirty pipe ever in his mouth, and with the dirtiest of -hands manipulating savoury preparations for the mouths of his masters. -He knows little more than how to boil or roast meat, boil beans, and -prepare vegetable dishes. Even the female slaves of the harem, who act -as cooks to their lords, are remarkable for uncleanliness. “All the -meat to be used for the dinner is sodden together in one huge caldron, -and separated for arrangement in various dishes, all of which partake -of general flavour, having been cooked together, and there is but scant -nourishment in any of them.” The vegetables are described by him as -being wretchedly cooked, and saturated with bad butter, or the water -in which they have been boiled. The dishes are not larger than our -plates; the plates, when such are used by the guests, about the size -of our saucers: but “each guest at once plunges his hand into any or -every dish that pleases him, and gropes about till he gets hold of the -best bits, pulls them out, and swallows them. Very often a bite is only -taken from the piece thus seized on, and the rest returned to the dish; -but, in spite of the clean treatment it has undergone, it is again soon -seized hold of by another, and, perchance, again similarly handled, -till all is finally bolted. The Turks eat incredibly rapidly, as they -bolt every thing, and keep cramming into the mouth more, ere the former -mouthful has been swallowed; while a smacking of lips, and licking of -sauce-dripping fingers, succeed, and proclaim their pleasure in the -meal. Bread is generally to be found on the table, but neither salt, -oil, vinegar, nor pepper; although, when they dine with Europeans, -they show no dislike to highly-seasoned dishes or strong drinks. -Although these dishes are numerous, they contain but little. If there -are many courses, or more dishes than the table will hold at one time, -the entertainer is ever busied making signs to the attendants which -are to be removed; and not seldom the guest finds, that the very dish -he was about to help himself from is carried off from under his very -nose. The Pasha used often to amuse himself by playing tricks on his -guests, by ordering off, with the utmost rapidity, those dishes he saw -their longing eyes fixed on, ere their outstretched hands could convey -any portion of them into their watering mouths. At first, in spite of -the _pilau_, we never were quick enough to get sufficient to eat, not -having been brought up to bolt our food; and that the Turks are so -quickly satisfied, and by so little, is wholly owing to this bolting -of their food, is undeniable; and this also produces the repeated -eructations they so loudly and joyfully give vent to, as proving their -high health and vigour.” - -The Turks and Arabs of Egypt “chaw,” carrying their quid between -the front teeth and upper lip. The blacks of Gesira mix tobacco and -nitron, dissolving the latter in an infusion of the former. This they -call “bucca;” and they take a mouthful of it at a time, which they -keep rinsing over their teeth and gums, for, perhaps, a quarter of -an hour, before they eject it. They have “bucca” parties, as we have -tea-parties; and _then_ is the circle in the very highest state of -enjoyment,--imbibing, gurgling, gargling, and ejecting,--and not a word -uttered, except at the close, when the guests return thanks to their -host “for this very delightful evening!” - -Egypt was the locality wherein the saints of old especially shone with -respect to their table arrangements, or their contempt for them; and -these gentlemen fairly claim a due share of notice at our hands. So, -now “for the Desert!” - - - - -THE DIET OF SAINTS. - - -Feasting, under certain circumstances, at certain seasons, and for -certain ends, is undoubtedly sanctified by apostolical recommendation. -The earlier fathers, however, say little on the subject. Clement of -Alexandria mentions weekly fasts at Easter; and Tertullian, in an -article especially recommending the observation, bitterly bewails that -it has fallen into a general disuse. The Church of Alexandria also -ordained a fast on Wednesdays and Fridays;--on Wednesday, because on -that day Christ was betrayed; on Friday, because on that day he was -crucified. In Alexandria too arose the saying, that the aspen-tree -shook because it was the tree from which the wood for the cross was -taken. The fasting generally consisted in abstaining from food until -three o’clock in the afternoon, but a religious liberty was allowed, -connected with its observance, until the sixth century, when a Council -of Orleans decreed excommunication against all who did not fast -according to the laws of the Church. Nor did the authorities stop -at this penalty; for, in later times the unlucky wight detected in -relieving hunger by eating prohibited meats, was punished by having all -his teeth drawn--the offending members were summarily extracted. The -prohibited food in Lent was flesh, eggs, cheese, and wine; subsequently -flesh alone was prohibited; and this tenderness of orthodoxy so -disgusted the Greek Church, that it lost its temper, flew off into -schism, and forgot charity in maintaining that the use of meat in Lent -was damnable. - -The Xerophagia, or “dry eatings,” were the days on which nothing was -eaten but bread and salt. This was in very early times. Innovators -added pulse, herbs, and fruits--no unpleasant fare in hot countries. -The Montanists made this fast obligatory, and were very much censured -in consequence. The Essenes, who, whether as Jews or Jewish Christians -in Alexandria, were singularly strict observers of the Sabbath, -carrying their strictness to a point which my readers may find in -Jortin, if they are curious thereupon, observed also this fast very -rigidly, and on the stated days ate nothing with their bread but salt -and hyssop. - -Most of the saints recorded on the canon roll of Rome, appear to have -maintained very indifferent tables, and to have considerably marred -thereby their strength and efficiency. Saint Fulgentius abstained from -everything savoury, and even drank no wine, says his biographer; which -looks as if the good men generally _did_ take some for their stomach’s -sake; and indeed Fulgentius himself took a little negus when he was -indisposed to plain water; and “small blame to him” for so harmless a -proceeding. St. Eugenius never broke his fast till sunset; and when a -bunch of grapes was sent to a sick monk of the desert, he forwarded it -to a second, and a second to a third, and so on to a twentieth, until -this health-inspiring offering, made for man by God, was withered and -nasty. These monks did not pray like Pope:-- - - “The blessings thy free bounty gives - Let me not cast away, - For God is paid when man receives,-- - To enjoy is to obey.” - -But this is a sentiment in the opposite extreme, or might be easily -carried in that direction. Palladius says of one of these desert monks, -St. Macarius, that for years together he lived only on raw herbs and -pulse; that during three consecutive years he existed on four or five -ounces of bread daily; and that he consumed but one small measure -of oil in a twelvemonth--a substitute for the gallons of sack with -which profaner men washed down their modicum of bread. St. Macarius, -however, surpassed himself in Lent; and an alderman might be excused -for fainting at the idea of a human being passing forty days and nights -in a standing position, with no more substantial support than a few -raw cabbage-leaves on a Sunday! St. Geneviève was hardly inferior in -austerity, and only ate twice in the week, on Sundays and Thursdays, -and then only beans and bread. When she grew old and infirm, and she -was prematurely both, she indulged in a little fish and milk. Simeon -Stylites surpassed both in culpable austerity. He spent an entire Lent -without allowing anything to pass his lips; and at other seasons this -slow suicidal saint never ate but on Sundays. His chief occupation -upon the pillar, which looks much more like a column of pride than a -monument of humility, was in praying and bowing. An admiring monk, who -must have had as little of active usefulness to employ his time with as -poor Simeon, exultingly records, that he did not eat once during the -day, but that he made one thousand two hundred and forty-four bows of -adoration in that time. Oh, Simeon! well for thee, poor fellow-mortal, -if those reverences be not accounted rather as homage to thyself, than -to Him to whom homage is due. - -It is extremely difficult for the human mind to realize the idea of a -Bishop of London never breaking his fast till the evening, and then -being satisfied with a solitary egg, an inch of bread, and a cup of -milk and water; such, however, is said to have been the daily fare of -St. Cedd, a predecessor of Dr. Blomfield in the metropolitan diocese. -“How unlike _my_ Beverly!” St. Severinus, an Austrian prelate, had a -more indifferent table than St. Cedd, especially in Lent, when he ate -but once a week. St. William of Bourges never tasted meat after he -was ordained. St. Theodosius, the Cenobiarch, was more frugal still, -and bread often lacked, we are told, even for the holy offices of the -Church. This would seem to intimate, however, that the officers of the -Church may have eaten it. Be this as it may, when bread was needed for -the sacrament, a string of mules miraculously appeared in the desert, -bearing the necessary provision. “Necessary provision,” may be well -said, for if the Cenobites consumed little themselves, they presided at -tables where occasionally sat a hundred hungry guests, who must have -much needed a dinner, seeing that they crossed the desert to obtain it. - -Some of the most self-denying saints, like St. Felix of Nola, if they -declined wine in its liquid form, took it in pills,--swallowing grapes. -St. Paul, the first hermit, lived on the fruit of a tree which produced -a fresh supply daily, the bread to temper which was brought every -morning by a raven. The diet was sufficiently invigorating to give -strength to the modest man to bite off his own tongue, and spit it in -the face of a lady who tried to tempt him, as the Irish nymph tempted -the uncourteous St. Kevin of Glendalough. He was, in abstinence, only -second to St. Isidore, who, when hungry, burst into tears, not because -God had mercifully provided him wherewith to satisfy lawful appetite, -but because, sinful man that he was, he dared to eat at all! - -I have spoken of the abstinence of a Bishop of London; there was a -Bishop of Worcester, Wulstan, who is worthy of being mentioned with -him. Wulstan was rather fond of savoury viands, but he was one day, -during mass, so distracted by the smell of meat roasting in a kitchen, -which must have been very close to his church, that he made a vow to -abstain from meat for ever. But I do not know if he kept his vow. St. -Euthymius was a more rational man, for he taught his monks that to -satisfy hunger was no crime, but that to abuse appetite and God’s gifts -too, _was_ an offence. St. Macedonius, the Syrian, did not discover -this truth until he had so impaired his powers by long fasts, that it -was impossible to restore them--as he tried to do on a diet of dry -bread. And yet he was so prematurely gifted, that his own birth is said -to have been the result of his own prayers! - -The table kept by St. Publius for his monks was not of a liberal -character. He allowed them nothing but pulse and herbs, coarse bread, -and water. Nothing else! He prohibited wine, milk, cheese, grapes, and -even vinegar--which every sour brother might have distilled from his -own ichor. From Easter to Whitsuntide was accounted a holiday time, -and during that festive period, the brotherhood were allowed to grow -hilarious, if they could, upon a gill of oil a-piece. St. Paula, “the -widow,” subjected her nuns to the same lively fare, and she moreover -fiercely denounced all ideas of personal neatness and cleanliness, as -an uncleanness of the mind. She accounted herself wise in so doing, but -her nuns might fairly have put to her the question asked by Mizen, in -the Fair Quaker of Deal:--“Do’st thou think that nastiness gives thee a -title to knowledge?” - -St. John Chrysostom was as severe as Paula, and it would not have cost -Olympias much to defray, as she insisted upon doing, the expenses of -his table. The table which the saint kept for guests was, however, -hospitably and delicately laden--and perhaps this was an inconsistency -in a man who censured what he also encouraged. - -They who have made a saint of Charlemagne, aver that he broke his fast -but once a day, and that after sunset. I cannot believe this of a man -who dealt so largely in the eggs laid by his hens, and in vegetables -raised in his garden. Nor do I believe that St. Sulpicius Severus would -have written so capital a biography of St. Martin, had he lived, as it -is said, on herbs, boiled with a little vinegar for seasoning. Surely, -we have heard of the “kitchen” of gentlemen like Sulpicius, and if his -condensed Scripture History be as dry as the bread he ate during the -task, his letters to Claudia seem to have been written on more generous -food. Not that he was immoderate. He kept one cook, a very “plain -cook” indeed, as Sulpicius describes him, when he despatched the boy -to Bishop Paulinus with a letter which commences with a startling bit -of episcopal history, namely, that “_all_ the cooks in the kitchen of -Paulinus had left him without warning, because the prelate was getting -too careless about good living.” Some commentators say that the letter -was a joke; but the reply to it is extant, and therein it may be seen -how Paulinus did not look upon it as a joke. - -Southey, in his “St. Romuald,” mirthful as the story is, has not -exceeded the truth, or rather has not departed from the narrative told -by the good man’s biographers:-- - - “Then, Sir, to see how he would mortify - The flesh! If any one had dainty fare, - Good man, he would come there; - And look at all the delicate things, and cry, - O Belly! Belly! - You would be gormandizing now, I know; - But it shall not be so!-- - Home, to your bread and water. Home, I tell ye.” - -And thus says Alban Butler of him:--“He never would admit of the -least thing to give a savour to the herbs or meal-gruel on which he -supported himself. If anything was brought him better dressed, he, -for the greater self-denial, applied it to his nostrils, and said, -‘Oh Gluttony, Gluttony! thou shalt never taste this! Perpetual war -is declared against thee!’” St. William of Maleval was of the same -opinion when he cried because he ate his dry bread with a relish, -and found that what he called “sensuality” was not inseparable from -the coarsest food. St. Benedict of Anian, on the other hand, did not -decline the use of a little wine, when it was given him; while St. -Martinianus, again, lived upon biscuits and water, brought to him twice -a-year--and very nasty fare it must have been towards the end of each -six months. It must have been worse than that of St. Peter Damian, who -prided himself on never drinking water fresh, and thought there was -virtue in having it four-and-twenty hours old. St. Tarasius must have -maintained a more decent table, for it is said of him that he used to -take the dishes from it and give of them to the poor; and honour be -to his name, because of his good sense and his charity! Our venerable -acquaintance of the principality, St. David, was not half so wise, -however well-intentioned; but St. Charles, Earl of Flanders, followed -the better course, and not only lived moderately well, but acted -better, by daily distributing seven hundred loaves to the poor. The -Welsh saints, generally, kept as austere a table as St. David. There -was, for instance, the cacophonous Winwaloe of Winwaloe, who kept his -monks at starving point all the week, recalling them to life on Sundays -by microscopic rations of hard cheese and shell-fish. His own fare was -barley-bread strewn with ashes, and when Lent arrived, the quantity -of ashes was doubled, in honour of the season! St. Thomas Aquinas was -so abstracted that he never knew, at dinner, what he was eating, nor -could remember, after it, if he had dined, which was likely enough. -St. Frances, Widow, foundress of the Collations, was in more full -possession of her wits; as, indeed, the lady saints were, generally. -She had her little fancies indeed, which were “only charming Fanny’s -way,” and her beverage at eve was dirty water, out of a human skull; -but she had no mercy for lazy devotees, and invariably told sighing -wives that they had active duties to perform, and that they had better -keep out of monasteries, at least till they were widows. She was a -good, humble woman; and, as a commentator says of the abstinence of St. -Euphrasia, without humility these facts would be but facts of devils! - -Another gleam of good sense shines upon us from the person of St. -Benedict. He drank wine, and so did his monks of Vicovara, who liked -his wine better than either the toast or sentiment with which he passed -it round to them, and who tried to get rid of him by poisoning his -glass; but the saint, full of inspired suspicion, made over it the sign -of the cross, and away went the flask into fifty fragments. The taste -of the good saint was known after he left Vicovara, and a pious soul -once sent him a couple of bottles of wine by a faithless messenger, who -delivered but one. “Mind what you are about,” said St. Benedict, “when -you draw the other cork for yourself.” The knave was not abashed, but -when he did secretly open the other bottle for the solace of his own -thirsty throat, he found nothing therein but a lively serpent, which -glided from him after casting at him a reproachful look! - -If St. Benedict was right in the ordering of his table, why St. John of -Egypt was wrong, for he never drank anything but stagnant water, nor -ate anything cooked by fire; even his bread he complacently swallowed -before it was baked;--and what his liver was like, it would puzzle any -but a physician even to conjecture. - -There was infinitely more sense in the table kept by an abbot of the -compound Christian and Pagan title and name of St. Plato. He never ate -anything but what had been raised or procured by the labour of his own -hands; he was consequently never in debt with respect to his household -expenses, and if all men so far followed the example of St. Plato, who -was a better practical philosopher than his heathen namesake, what -a happy world we should make of it! There would be fewer Christmas -bills, and many more joyous dinners, not only at Christmas, but all -the year round! - -St. Plato deserves our respect; he would not live on alms. He was more -useful in his generation than the men who, like St. Aphraates, were -content to exist on the eleemosynary contributions of the faithful, or -than those who, like Zozimus and his followers, wandered through the -desert, trusting to chance and calling it providence. What, compared -with our friend Plato, was that St. Droun, the so-called patron of -shepherds, who during forty years taught them nothing, and lived on the -barley-bread which they brought him in return for his instruction. - -I have given one or two instances of the spare tables kept by a -few of our ancient bishops; I may here add to them the name of St. -Elphege, some time Bishop of Winchester, and subsequently Archbishop -of Canterbury. The smell of roast meat was never known in his palace -on any but “extraordinary occasions.” This, however, is a very -indefinite term, and the table of this primate may have been one to -make a cardinal give unctuous thanks for rich mercies, five days out -of the seven. There was certainly gastronomic work to do in some of -the ancient godly households, or St. James of Sclavonia would not -have passed so many years in one, as he did, in the capacity of cook, -“improving” the occasion, by drawing ideas of hell from his own fires, -which were for ever roasting savoury joints, like those which strike -the visitors with awe and appetite in the kitchens at Maynooth. - -If in some houses there were busy kitchens, in others there were soft -couches, whereon digestion might progress. Thus Adalbert, Bishop of -Prague, was a Saint and Martyr; and it is said, that he had a most -comfortable bed in his dormitory, but that he never slept upon it! -Then, what was the bed for? It is added, that he fasted in private, -with great severity,--but it is no more “of faith” to believe this, -than it is that he slept every night on the floor, under, and not upon, -his own excellent feather-bed; for what says the old refrain?-- - - “A notre coucher - Un lit, des draps blancs, - Une ---- - digue daine, bon! - Voila la vie que ces moines font!” - -But he may have been a profane fellow who wrote these rude rhymes; and -we will no more implicitly trust him, than we will the prose historians -of the doings and dealings of the saintly men. - -It is not an unusual thing to find wine-bibbers mentioned among the -members of holy communities; where wine was generally supposed to be a -luxury never employed but for the service of the altar,--and perhaps of -the sick. The venerable Bede tells a story of a “brother,” whom he had -known, and whom he wishes to God he had never known, and who was given -to worship the spigot. Bede does not give his name, but certifies that -the too jolly friar lived ignobly in a noble monastery, where he was -often reproved for his acts of drunkenness, and only tolerated because -of his gifts,--not spiritual, but as a carpenter. He was a terrible -tippler, but a hard workman to boot, and would, at any time, rather -labour all day and all night at his bench than join the brethren in -chapel. Indeed, when he did go, his thoughts were running on something -else. He was like the profane Yorkshire farmer, who praised the -institution of the Sabbath because it not only brought roast beef with -it as a sacred observance, but it authorized him to attend in his pew -at church, where, said he, “I puts up my legs and thinks o’ nothing!” -Bede’s carpenter was characteristically punished for his bibbing; and -the story was made much of, by way of monition to others. It was to -this effect:--“He, falling sick, and being reduced to extremity, called -the brethren, and with much lamentation, and like one damned, began to -tell them that he saw hell open, and Satan at the bottom thereof, and -also Caiaphas, with the others that slew our Lord, by him delivered up -to avenging flames. ‘In whose neighbourhood,’ said he, ‘I see a place -of eternal perdition prepared for me, miserable wretch that I am!’ -The brothers, hearing these words, began seriously to exhort him that -he should repent even then, while he was in the flesh. He answered in -despair,--‘I have no time now to change my course of life, when I have -myself seen my judgment passed.’ When he had uttered these words, he -died, without having received the saving _viaticum_; and his body was -buried in the remotest part of the monastery; nor did any one dare -to say masses, sing psalms, or even to pray for him.” Which seems a -very hard case; for if any one needed such service it was he; and the -Church’s ability to extricate him could not be denied, when she was -duly pre-paid for the service. - -Curiously enough, St. Monica, the mother of St. Augustin, ranks among -the wine-bibbers. Her pious parents left their children to be brought -up by a servant-maid, who had more zeal than discretion, and who -would allow none of the children to drink, were they ever so thirsty, -except at meal-times, and then only a drop or two of water. “If you -cannot restrain your desire to drink now,” she would say, “what will -it be when you have wine at command?” Now, the effect of this speech -was exactly like that of the confessor to the hostler, when he asked -the latter, if he never greased the horses’ teeth in order to prevent -them eating their corn. It gave the young Monica a new idea. She was -accustomed to draw the wine for her father’s table, and she henceforth -began to drink a portion each time that she went to the cellar with -her pitcher. And I do not know that Mr. Millais, or any other of the -pre-Raphaelite gentlemen, could have a better subject for a picture, -than that representing the scene when the horrified nurse-maid beheld -her young charge indulging in her cups in the parental wine-vault. -The lecture she received worked her conversion, we are told; and she -married, and became the mother of St. Augustin, who so far followed the -maternal example that, in his earlier years, when, with his eyes upon -heaven, his heart was with the good things of the earth, his commonest -prayer used to be, “Lord, make me religious, _but not just yet_.” - -The nurse-maid of Monica deserved to have been the wife,--and perhaps -she was,--of St. Theodotus, the vintner of Ancyra. He was a teetotaller -who kept a tavern, and who passed the live-long day in leaning over his -counter and begging his customers not to drink! Well, men have been -canonized for less useful service to their kind; and Theodotus was -more worthily employed in keeping drunkards from his wine-casks, than -St. Pius V. was when, every day before dinner, by way of mocking his -appetite, he resorted to the public hospitals, and kissed the ulcers -of the patients! Nay, biographers tell us that an English Protestant -gentleman was _suddenly converted_ to Romanism, by observing the -condescension and affection with which Pius kissed the ulcers on the -feet of some poor men! The pope, if he and the convert dined together -after this nasty ceremony, might have confessed that he had been sore -put to it for an argument that should carry conviction to an English -gentleman in search of a religion. - -Let us contrast this pope in his pride with a cardinal in his fall. -“When Wolsey,” says Mr. Hunter the antiquary, “was dismissed by his -tyrannical master to his northern diocese, he passed many weeks -at Scrooby. It is a pleasing picture which his faithful servant, -Cavendish, gives of him at this period of his life:--‘Ministering many -deeds of charity, and attending on Sundays at some parish church in the -neighbourhood; hearing or saying mass himself, and causing some one of -his chaplains to preach to the people; and that done, he would dine -in some honest house of that town, where should be distributed to the -poor a great alms, as well of meat and drink, as of money to supply the -want of sufficient meat, if the number of the poor did so exceed of -necessity.’” Wolsey was no saint certainly, but he was as honest a man -as Pius, and a wiser when he fed the poor rather than kiss their ulcers. - -But there is no accounting for taste; the Russian Boniface used to -roll himself among thorns and nettles, in order to get an appetite, or -to punish himself for indulging over much. St. Germanus, on the other -hand, commenced every repast by putting ashes into his mouth;--the -modern custom of beginning with oysters is certainly better both for -taste and stomach. St. Walthen took wine, but then he put spiders in -it. St. Dominic, too, was singular in his diet, and he sometimes spent -his half-hour before dinner in one of the most curious positions that -gentlemen could possibly fix upon. The Abbot of St. Vincent’s one day -desired his company at dinner, but at the usual hour the saint was in -church, and had forgotten the invitation. In the meantime the turkey -and chine were spoiling, and the hungry abbot despatched a monk in -quest of the loiterer; the messenger hurried to the church, where, to -his very considerable astonishment, he beheld St. Dominic “ravished in -an ecstasy,” whatever that may mean, “raised several cubits above the -ground, and without motion.” The Saint, on being told that dinner was -ready, graciously smiled at the intelligence, and gently descended to -the ground. - -St. Laurence would have joked at this, as he did at his own grilling. -After he had lain for some time extended on his gridiron, he calmly -said to the executioner, “Will you have the kindness to turn me, as I -am quite done on the under side?” The executioner, a trifle astonished, -did as he was required, and soon after, the Saint, again speaking, -said, “I shall be obliged if you’ll take me up, as I am now fit for -eating.” This story reminds me of the remark made by an Irishman, when -first told that St. Patrick had crossed the ocean on a millstone:--“I -can’t contradict it! He was a lucky fellow!” - -We are told of St. Bernard, who used to walk before dinner on the banks -of the Lake of Lausanne, that on hearing two of his monks speak of -the beauty of the lake, he declared that no such lake existed, or he -had been too much absorbed ever to have noticed it. So the Trappists -used to glory in not knowing where or how they dined, or recollecting -anything about it! All this shows less wisdom at table than was -exhibited by the royal St. Louis, who, when a certain friar began to -discuss doctrinal subjects with the pullets, stopped him with the -remark that “all things had their time, and joking was good sauce with -chickens!” - -St. Laurence Justinian, the first patriarch of Venice, was far less -indulgent than the royal saint of France. He was so little so, that -when his thirsty monks sometimes asked for a little wine, declaring -that their throats felt as dry as the high road in summer, he used -quite as drily to remark, that if they could not bear parched throats -now, what would they do in the fires of purgatory? St. John the Dwarf, -Anchoret of Scete, cared as little for wine as St. Laurence, but he -was fond of fruit, and he obtained a supply from a strange source. An -old hermit bade him plant his walking-staff in the ground, and he not -only did so, but he watered it regularly for three years, when it -bore pippins, sweeter than those that grew at Ribstone up to the time -of the death of the late baronet. Before this miraculously-bearing -stick the little man used to read prayers as devoutly as Sir Hollyoak -Goodrick, the present Ribstone baronet, does to the villagers in his -own parish church, and for the same reason each had much to be thankful -for. It must be confessed that John the Dwarf had more taste than -his namesake of Cupertino, who not only ate nothing but vegetables, -but ate no vegetables that any other human being could be induced to -swallow. It was such garbage as only pigs would condescend to. _Arcades -ambo_--nasty creatures both! - -St. Francis of Assisium exhibited something more of true humility at -his table, with a touch of the false metal notwithstanding. He ate -nothing dressed by fire, unless he were very ill, and even then he -covered it with ashes, or dipped it in cold water. His common daily -food was dry bread strewn with ashes; but this founder of the Friars’ -Minors had the good sense not to condemn his followers to the rigorous -diet he observed himself; and “Brother Ass,” as he familiarly called -that self, was in his own opinion worthy of no better fare. - -There was a founder of another community who exhibited more singularity -than St. Francis, who, despite some mistakes, was a man of whom -none other dare speak but with respect,--St. Ammon, founder of the -hermitages of Nitria. At the age of twenty-two this young Egyptian -noble married a fair girl of Memphis; and instead of a nuptial banquet, -he treated his bride to a reading of a particularly edifying chapter -from St. Paul, after which he withdrew to solitary meditation. During -eighteen years he occupied himself in training balsam-trees all day, -after which he returned home to a supper of fruit and herbs; then -came that terrible reiteration of advice from St. Paul, followed by a -separate solitary comment on the part of this exemplary pair. At the -end of the time above specified, he retired altogether from domestic -life, and settled alone on Mount Nitria, and his biographers naïvely -remark, this was “with his wife’s consent.” This saint was of such a -“complexion” of virtue, that one day, on accidentally catching sight of -an uncovered portion of his own body, he was so shocked that he fainted -away. If he had only read “Erasmus Wilson, on the Skin,” he would have -learned to look oftener at his own, and would have been a cleaner man, -a better husband, a more grateful feeder, and an improved Christian. - -But St. Bruno, the founder of the Carthusians, probably exceeded all -other originators of communities in the “fierceness,” so to speak, -of his dietetic laws; he never spared himself, nor his disciples. A -Carthusian is never permitted to eat meat under any pretence whatever. -In addition to this, they fast eight months in the year, and I suppose -they starve in Lent, for during that season they are forbidden to eat -what is called “white meats,” that is, eggs, milk, butter, and cheese. -Dry bread with water is their Lenten fare; and a peculiar law connected -with them is, that they can never change into another order, because -they would thereby profit a little in the way of better living; but -a brother of any other order may become a Carthusian, as thereby he -increases his mortifications and diminishes his diet. Of course from -these remarks the Carthusians of the “Charterhouse” are excepted. If -the thin spirit of St. Bruno ever scents the juicy viands that adorn -the well-spread table _there_, it probably melts into thin air by the -very force of disgust or ghastly envy. - -The table kept by St. Bridget, when she married Ulpho, prince of -Nericia, in Sweden, was a very modest one for so princely a pair, but -what was spared thereby was given to the poor. Bridget and Ulpho, she -sweet sixteen, he two years more, read every evening the soothing -chapter from St. Paul, which formed the favourite study of St. Ammon -and his wife; but, as it would appear, with indifferent success. “They -enrolled themselves,” say their various biographers, “in the Third -Order of St. Francis, and lived in their own house as if it had been -a regular and austere monastery.” The biographers immediately add -without comment,--“They afterwards had eight children: four boys and -four girls;” and as the same paragraph goes on to state that “all -these children were favoured with the blessings of divine grace,” it -may be fairly concluded that a domestic observation of a monastic -regularity and austerity, is a course that will purchase blessings and -olive-branches. - -The case of St. Gomer and his wife, the Lady Gwinmary, may perhaps be -cited as an exception. But this Gwinmary was an exacting lady at all -times, and when St. Gomer betook himself from her to live in the desert -on bitterness and biscuits, he fared as sumptuously and lived far more -quietly than he had done at home. He was one of the most placid of -saints, and it is a positive libel upon him for the French Admiralty -to have given his name to one of the most thundering steamers in the -service. Its broadsides far more nearly resemble the tongue of Gwinmary -than the tones of Gomer. - -In charming contrast with this truculent Gwinmary do we meet and greet -the gentle St. Elizabeth of Hungary. The record of her good deeds would -fill a volume, but out of them I have only to select an exquisite table -trait--to register which is also to eulogize it. I do not allude to her -habitual temperance, to her dry bread and thimble-full of wine, when -she sat at meat with kings and queens, her equals in birth; nor to her -small feasts with her two maids, in the absence of her consort, Louis -the Landgrave; but I allude--and listen, O ye Benedicts, with grateful -rapture--to the fact “that the kitchen she kept out of her own private -purse, not to be the least charge to her husband.” If celibate priests, -who can hardly be supposed capable of appreciating such a fact, -canonized so rare a lady, all married men who love banquets but dislike -the butchers’ bills, will cry “Well done!” and recommend their wives to -read the instructive life of Elizabeth of Hungary. - -Who would expect to hear good of a Borgia?--St. Francis Borgia was -virtuous enough to save his family name from entire infamy. Of no -other man or woman of his house could it be said that they gave up -suppers, in order to have more time for prayers. It was not Alexander -VI., the papal glory of his house and the shame of mankind, that -would have been content with one meal a day, and that meal--a mess -of leeks, or some pulse, with a piece of bread, and a cup of water. -At the same time, Francis Borgia kept a table becoming a man of his -rank, for the gratification of his guests of high degree. There, while -they ate their venison, and quaffed their _lachrymæ Christi_, he -nibbled his leeks, and sipped his water, “and conversed facetiously -with them, though at table his discourse generally turned on piety.” -It was very like a Borgia to make piety facetious, but if fun in -holiness be of the ingredients necessary to the making of a saint, -Sidney Smith has as good a right as Borgia to be on the roll of the -_beati_. Our reverend “joker of jokes,” indeed, would not have smiled -at the cook who put wormwood instead of mint into his broth; and I -doubt if Peter Plimley ever thought of doing what Francis Borgia -did,--namely, chewing his pills, and swallowing physic slowly, as -works of meritorious mortification, bearing compound interest to the -profit of the practitioner. St. Wilfrid, who taught the half-starved -South Saxons to catch the fish that swam at their feet, and thereby -live, seems to me to have performed a far more meritorious work than -if he had passed his life in gnawing leeks or masticating pills. Our -native saint, a good man at table, was often better employed than St. -Theresa, who is so eulogized because when serving at table, or carrying -the dinner from the kitchen, “she was often seen suddenly absorbed in -God, with the utensils or instruments of her business in her hands.” -The hungry and expectant monks might have quoted against the rapt maid, -the assertion of the royal sage, that there is a time to eat, as well -as to fast and pray. But St. Theresa, with all her good qualities, -was as obstinate as the Polish saint Hedwiga, who not only abstained -from meat till abstinence had nearly proved suicidal, but who refused -to save her life by eating any, until the Pope’s legate had issued a -very peremptory precept to that effect. St. Peter of Alcantara lost -all taste by his nearly total-abstinence principle, and when some one -gave him warm water with vinegar in it, he thought it was his usual -dinner of bean broth! That actively good saint, Charles Borromeo, was -only wisely moderate. “His austerities were discreet,” is the phrase -of one of his biographers; and his abstemiousness made his health -rather than marred it. This was so well known, that they who dieted -themselves in order to recover or preserve health, were said to have -adopted the remedy of Doctor Borromeo. St. Francis Xavier had something -of the discretion of Charles Borromeo,--and of the modesty too, for -he dressed his own dinners, even when he was apostolic legate; and -that St. Clement of Alexandria belonged to the same class of sagely -temperate men, is proved by his maintaining that a little wine taken -at evening, after the labours of the day, was good for the body, and -cheering for the spirits. So the sainted Archbishop of York had no -repugnance to a slice of roast goose, for, as he truly remarked, so -good a thing was not designed especially for sinners. And this recalls -to my mind a comment, similar in spirit, made by St. Thomas à Becket. -A monk once saw him eating the wing of a pheasant with much relish, and -the pharisaical fellow thereon affected to be scandalized, saying that -he thought Thomas was more of a mortified man. “Thou art but a ninny,” -said the Archbishop; “knowest thou not that a man may be a glutton upon -horse-beans; while another may enjoy with refinement even the wing of a -pheasant, and have nature’s aid to digest what Heaven’s bounty gave?” - -This was good sense in the Archbishop, who perhaps had been reading -Epicurus, before he sat down to his repast. However this may be, it is -certain that the philosopher in question says something very like what -Becket said to the friar. “Is man,” he asks, “made to disdain the gifts -of nature? Is he placed on earth only to gather bitter fruits? For whom -then are the flowers that the gods strew at the feet of mortals?... -We please Providence when we yield to the divers inclinations which -Providence suggests; our duties have reference to His laws; and our -innocent desires are born of His inspirations.” - - * * * * * - -There are few things more common in the Lives of the Saints, than to -find them, after spare banquets of their own, working penal miracles -at the banquets of others. St. Eloy was gifted with terrible power in -this way, and endless are the stories of revellers turned to stone -by the might of his magic right arm. Other saints had equal power -in turning the tables upon those who slighted them; and I will take -this opportunity of narrating one instance, and will set my Muse in -slippers, to detail what occurred at - - -THE BRIDAL AND BANQUET OF FERQUES. - -Near the marble quarries of Ferques, adjacent to Landrecthun le -Nord, in the Boulonnais, may be seen a circular range of stones, -bearing a close resemblance in their shape, though little in their -magnitude, to those at Stonehenge; as also to the Devil’s Needles, near -Boroughbridge, and to the solitary block on the common at Harrogate. -Learned people recognise the stones at Ferques by the appellation of -the _Mallus_, a Druidical name for an altar; but the traditionary -folks, wiser in their generation, acknowledge no other title for these -remains of antiquity than _Neuches_, an old provincial word, the -corruption, I suppose, of _Noces_, and signifying a bridal, including -the banquet which followed it. According to them, the stones at Ferques -stand there as a testimony of divine vengeance, inflicted on a fiddler -and other individuals belonging to a wedding party who refused to kneel -before the Host, as it was being borne along by a priest to a dying -brother. Rabelais says, that a well-disposed and sensible man believes -all that he is told; (“Un homme de bien, un homme de bon sens, croit -toujours ce qu’on lui dit, et ce qu’il trouve par écrit;”) and _argal_, -as the logical grave-digger in _Hamlet_ has it, this story of a bridal -and banquet will be allowed to pass without question. - - Though around the bleak district there is not a grove - That can boast of a shade, e’en in summer, for love, - Nor a walk by the side of a murmuring stream, - Where somnambulist lovers may talk as they dream; - Nor a valley retir’d, nor sweet mossy dell, - Where young hearts that are aching, their anguish may tell; - Nor a wood where a maiden deserted may sigh, - Or where youths, stripp’d of hope, may with decency die;-- - Though all it can boast be a desolate heath, - Where ’twould puzzle young Cupid to find him a wreath,-- - Yet e’en here the Idalian has furnish’d full work - For the hearts of the youths and the maidens of Ferques. - - Of these there were two in the good days of old, - When the hard iron heel of the baron so bold - Ground those to the dust whom the mere chance of birth - Had deprived of the licence to lord it on earth. - The maid was as light and as shy as the fawn, - Her eyes dark as night, and her brow like the dawn; - And her lips, twice as rich and as red as the rose, - Were more warm than the sky at a summer eve’s close; - While a music fell from them made only to bless; - And her shape--nay! her shape I must leave you to guess. - ’Twould require the power pictorial of Burke, - To record how sublime was this beauty of Ferques. - - The swain was in manhood’s first op’ning bloom, - In doublet, slash’d hose, martial bonnet, and plume; - And he look’d, as he walk’d ’neath the moon’s silver light, - Half hero, half mortal;--half _bourgeois_, half knight. - If upward he gazed into heaven’s soft skies, - He saw nothing there half so soft as her eyes; - Or, at least, the young lover thus gallantly swore, - As he ran the long roll of his soft nonsense o’er, - And mincingly walk’d by the damosel’s side,-- - The latter all fondness, the former all pride;-- - With one arm round the maiden, one hand on his dirk, - Irresistibly fine look’d this gallant of Ferques. - - These walkings, these gazings, the terrible sighing, - With death, or at least earnest threat’nings of dying; - These sinkings of spirit, these meltings away, - With the watchings by night and the dreamings by day, - What could such a mixture combustible bring, - But a state of incendiarism, like Swing? - When hearts are the haystack, and Love holds the torch, - ’Tis odds but the haystack will soon get a scorch. - And what else could arise from those meetings at eve, - From those flaming assertions which maidens believe, - And those vows warmly breath’d ‘’twixt the gloam and the murk,’[2] - But a bridal and banquet to gladden all Ferques? - - Love’s eddying current, I say it in sooth, - Ran, for this young couple, remarkably smooth; - For the fathers paternally look’d on each child, - While the mothers maternally wept as they smiled; - Fraternally too a whole bevy of brothers - Look’d on the alliance as fondly as mothers; - And, if the young bride had possess’d but a sister, - These lines would have told how she tenderly kiss’d her. - Suffice it to say, that there never was seen, - In valley, dale, hamlet, on moorland or green, - An assembly so joyous as met at the kirk, - To view and to envy the lovers of Ferques. - - For, the youthful, the aged, the ugly, the fair, - The idle, the busy, grave and gay, all were there. - Maids with prayers on their lips, for the weal of the bride, - Some who long’d for her looks, some for _him_ by her side, - And, though last, yet most certain, by no means the least, - Stood his Rev’rence, who having been bid to the feast, - Look’d as jocund and joyous, and beaming with smiles, - As the fair Cytherean, when weaving her wiles.[3] - For where is the priest, be he Pagan, Hindoo, - Yellow Bonze from Japan, olive sage from Loo Choo, - A Franciscan Friar, an opium-drench’d Turk, - But loves a fair feast like this banquet at Ferques? - - ’Twould be tedious to tell, when the service was done, - How that of the gallants was warmly begun, - How, like the old suitors in Livy’s old story, - By ‘Cupiditate’ (his words) ‘et Amore,’[4] - The hearts of the damsels they ruthlessly task’d, - And finally gain’d twice as much as they ask’d. - Ah, sigh not to think that in Love’s stricken field, - The maidens of Ferques were so ready to yield; - For Livy declares that no maid can withstand - The wooer who comes with such arms in his hand. - They’re pleasant to talk of, but ’neath them doth lurk - A peril not felt less at Rome than at Ferques. - - The banquet was sped, and the floor being clear’d, - Terpsichore’s summons distinctly was heard, - In the tuning Cremona that squeak’d forth its call, - Inviting all those light of foot to the ball. - - Lovely dance! of thy charms how correct was the notion - Of her who the Poetry, called thee, of Motion![5] - When Beauty her features in smiles deigns to grace, - What are those same smiles but the dance of the face? - And when Dancing and Modesty happily meet, - What is Dancing just then but the smiles of the feet?[6] - I’d defy e’en a hermit the summons to shirk, - Ask’d a measure to tread by the beauties of Ferques. - - When moonlight had risen to silver the scene, - The party adjourn’d from the hall to the green, - And their laughter was shaking the stars in the sky, - When by chance, on the heels of their mirth, there pass’d by - A Franciscan from Boulogne, Franciscanly shod,[7] - Who ask’d them to kneel at the sight of their God, - Whose presence mysterious he fully reveal’d. - But the fiddler, he swore, he’d be hang’d if he kneel’d, - And affirm’d--most irreverent charge ’gainst a monk-- - That the bare-footed priest was decidedly drunk. - And the party applauded each quip and each quirk - That fell from this vile Paganini of Ferques. - - But, oh, wonder! those ribalds their scoffs had scarce utter’d, - When, at a low prayer by the Cordelier mutter’d, - Their laughter was heard to change into a moan, - As the priest transform’d each to a figure of stone. - There motionless still do the revellers stand, - Misshapen, as turn’d from their sculptor’s rough hand; - Save one, who when moonlight pours down from above, - May be seen from the spot vainly trying to move. - Some affirm ’tis the bridegroom aroused from his trance, - Some declare ’tis the bride gliding forth to the dance. - But ’tis only the fiddler endeavouring to jerk - His bow arm o’er the once magic fiddle of Ferques. - - - - -THE SUPPORT OF SAINTS OF LATER DAYS. - - -It may be seen from our last chapter, that the bill of fare of those -who dined in the desert was neither very long nor very varied. It was -otherwise with the better fed, but perhaps not better-taught gentlemen -of the church of later days. Thus, for instance, the Curé of Brequier -kept a very different table from that of the lean Amphitryons of the -desert. Brillat Savarin once called on the holy man just as he had -dismissed the soup and beef from the table. These were replaced by a -leg of mutton _à la royale_, a fat capon, and a splendid salad. The -hour was scarcely noon, and the curé had sat down to this saint’s fare -alone. He was not selfish, however, and he invited his guest to “break -bread” with him, but the guest, a prince of “gastronomers” in his way, -declined, and the curé, like Coriolanus, did it all alone! He finished -the “gigot” to the ivory, the capon to the bones, and the salad to the -polished bottom of the bowl. A colossal cheese was then placed before -him, in which he made a breach of ninety degrees, and having washed -down all with a bottle of wine, he, like the Irishman, thanked God “for -that snack,” and betook himself to digestion and repose. “Le pauvre -homme!” - -The nuns were in no ways behind the priests. Madame d’Arestrel, lady -Abbess of the nuns of the Visitation at Belley, (_faustum nomen_!) -once told a secret to a visitor who feared she was going to expound a -chapter from the Prophets. “If you want a foretaste of Paradise in the -guise of good chocolate,” said she, “be sure to make it over-night, in -an earthenware coffee-pot. Its standing still for a night concentrates -it, and gives it a velvety taste, which is divine! And Heaven cannot be -angry with us for this little luxury, for is not Heaven too divine?” -How wide the distance between St. Paula, widow, and Madame d’Arestrel, -of the convent of the Visitation! I may add, that if the Visitandines -made good chocolate, the monks of the Feuillants, in Paris, were -renowned for their ratafie. But they too have superior authority for -good living. A dainty dish in Italy is commonly called a “mouthful for -a cardinal.”--_un boccone di cardinali._ - -The canons took the tone from the cardinals. When the French canon -Rollet became ill through excessive drinking, his doctor interdicted -all strong beverages, and was not a little wroth, on his next visit, -at finding the dignitary in bed indeed, but at his bed-side a little -table, neatly laid out with bottles and glasses. The canon met the -threatened storm by gently remarking:--“Doctor, when you forbade -me drinking wine, you did not wish to deprive me of the pleasure -of looking at the bottle!” It was such canons who were the best -customers of the nuns who distilled liqueurs, and of the Ursulines who -manufactured the daintiest drops flavoured by the daintiest essences! -But in the Archbishop of Paris himself, M. de Belley, the clergy -of France had example to which they might appeal as authority for -indulging in good cheer. The archiepiscopal face was wreathed in smiles -at the sight of a good dinner. The prelate lived to be a veteran among -gastronomers, and was, in other respects, not an unworthy archbishop. - -But M. de Belley was at least a gentleman in his gastronomic -propensities. He was not, like a Russo-Greek “Papa,” a brandy-bibber. -The Russo-Greek priests sanctify drinking, in the minds of the people, -by their evil example. Monsieur Léverson Le Duc, a French diplomatist -in Russia, tells us that he knows of one parish in Muscovy where the -people lock up their pastor every Saturday night, in order that he -may not be too muzzy for mass on the Sunday. They occasionally find -him very drunk, nevertheless, when they have forgotten previously -to examine beneath his robe, under which the sinning sot sometimes -smuggles his quart of Cognac! Sir George Simpson crossed the Pacific in -a Russian vessel. The chaplain had been sent in her to sea, because he -was always too drunk to officiate on land. He was kept sober expressly -for the hour of service on Sundays, but at other times, he appears to -have realized the verse in the old song of Dibdin’s, wherein it is said -that - - “’Tother day as our chaplain was preaching, - Behind him I curiously slunk; - And while he our duty was teaching, - As how we should never get drunk, - I show’d him the stuff, and he twigg’d it, - And it soon set his Rev’rence agog. - And he swigg’d, and Nick swigg’d, - And Ben swigg’d, and Dick swigg’d, - And we all of us swigg’d it,-- - And we swore there was nothing like grog.” - -These examples, however, must be understood as occurring mostly, if -not exclusively, among the lower classes of the clergy. There was a -time when “the Vicar and Moses” illustrated the sad doings of a similar -class among ourselves. - -The Greek clergy in the South of Europe present us with something no -less curious of aspect. The hall-kitchen of the Greek Patriarch, at -Constantinople, is crowded with inferior clergy, who take their meals -there, and his All-Holiness himself is served with pipes and sweetmeats -by nothing less than gentlemen in Deacon’s orders. Fancy our Lord -Primate ringing his bell for cheroots for two! and having them brought -in on a silver tray by the Curate of St. Margaret’s! - -The Greek usages however are classical. The stranger who dines with -the Patriarch has, previous to falling to, water poured over his hands -as he holds them over a basin with a perforated cover, and the napkins -for drying them are as delicate as rose-leaves. The guest reclines on -a low couch, in ancient fashion, and his repast is placed on a low -stool at his side. The same custom exists in the convents, but meat is -seldom to be found there by a guest who arrives unexpectedly. The monks -themselves never eat it at all. During half the year they have but one -meal a day, and that consists of vegetables and bread. On the other -days of the year they are permitted the more liberal, but sufficiently -eremitic fare of cheese, eggs, fish, wine, and milk; but even on these -gala days they are never allowed more than two meals. Poor fellows! -the majority of them pass their remarkably well-spent time, when not -at table, in tilling the ground or teaching wonderful feats to very -accomplished tom-cats! - -A Greek monk’s idea of an Englishman is that he is a plum-pudding -eater. And no wonder, since the English are almost the exclusive -purchasers of the currant-grapes which are cultivated all along the -northern shores of the Peloponnesus, from Patra to Corinth. As the -Chinese think that we take their tea that we may live, so the Greek -monks conclude that we _must_ buy their currants, or die! At the -convent of Vestizza, the good fathers trouble their heads about nothing -but the produce and price of their great staple crop. If you ask how -many brethren there are in the convent, they will answer, “Three -hundred; and what was the price of currants in England when you left?” -Inquire if their books be in good order, and they will reply in the -negative, adding an assurance that they do their utmost to produce the -best currants in the country. And they will give you permission to see -their church, if you will only promise to recommend their dwarf grapes -to the English merchants who are catering for plum-pudding eaters -at home. The grounds of other convents in the peninsula are famous -for their nuts, in the exportation of which the brethren drive no -inconsiderable trade. - -These worthy people are said to be a trifle more enlightened and a -degree less slothful than they were some thirty years ago. There -was ample room and verge enough for improvement; for at the period -mentioned, the Greek priests resisted the introduction of the potato -into the kitchen-garden, for the very satisfactory reason that the -_pomme de terre_ was the very identical apple with which Satan beguiled -Eve out of Paradise! Yes, these modern and orthodox saints very -generally held that the devil tempted Eve with an “ash-leaf kidney!” - -If we cross over to Abyssinia, we shall find that the priests and -orthodox people there keep as poor tables, at least on fast-days, -as the Greeks. Above eight months in the year are assigned by the -Abyssinian Christians to abstinence! On these occasions an Abyssinian -neither eats nor drinks till long after noon. On festival days, -however, they make up for their moderation by unrestrained excess. -Mr. Mansfield Perkyns, a traveller who has given us the most recent -account of life in Abyssinia, tells us that, in honour of the festival -of the Elevation of the Cross, he gave an early breakfast to some dozen -guests, who were engaged to half-a-dozen other parties in the course -of the same joyous day, and that these guests whetted their appetite -for later meals by consuming at breakfast a fine fat cow, two large -sheep, and endless gallons of mead! On these occasions the mead is -pretty prolific of murder. The guests get dreadfully drunk in honour -of the day, exactly as many highly civilized Christian people in happy -England do on the yearly recurrence of “merry Christmas.” Indeed, a -feast of the Elevation of the Cross without plenty of quarrelling and -bloodshed would be as dull as Donnybrook fair now is without a row. -But the Abyssinian Christian is as clever in establishing a _casus -belli_ as a Donnybrook Romanist. If the latter sees the fair is likely -to end without a fight, he simply takes off his hat, draws a white -line round it with chalk, and declaring that he will break the head of -the first man who denies that such white line is silver lace, he has -speedily abundance of active work before him. So a pious Abyssinian at -an “Elevation” banquet, if he finds things dull, merely remarks to his -dearest friend and next neighbour, “You are a good sort of man, but you -are not so handsome as I am!” and thereupon out fly the knives of the -parties and their respective friends, which they proceed to clean by -plunging them into each other’s ribs! - -The people are brought up on a food likely to encourage such pugnacious -propensities. Mr. Perkyns, speaking of the slaughtering of oxen for -the kitchen, says:--“Almost before the death-struggle is over, persons -are ready to flay the carcase, and pieces of the raw meat are cut -off, and served up before this operation is completed. In fact, as -each part presents itself, it is cut off and eaten while yet warm and -quivering. In this state it is considered, and justly so, to be very -superior in taste to what it is when cold. Raw meat, if kept a little -time, gets tough; whereas, if eaten fresh and warm, it is far tenderer -than the most tender joint that has been hung a week in England. The -taste is perhaps, in imagination, rather disagreeable at first, but far -otherwise when one gets accustomed to it; and I can readily believe -that raw meat would be preferred to cooked meat, by a man who from -childhood had been accustomed to it.” Such fare, I may observe, may not -be out of place at the table of a patriarch who lives in such a climate -as that of Abyssinia, but we suspect that it would as much astonish a -dinner party at an episcopal palace in England, as Mr. Perkyns himself -would do were he to sit down to that dinner in his ordinary Abyssinian -fashion of--a bald head covered with butter! - -I have spoken in another chapter of a Brahmin who stuffed himself -with sweetmeats until he was nearly suffocated, and who exclaimed, on -being recommended to swallow a little water, that if he had had room -for water he would have swallowed more sweetmeats! It is but justice, -however, to these saintly gentlemen to confess that they _can_ fast -when there is anything to be gained by it. Among the Mahrattas, when -a fast man attempts to cheat his creditors, a Brahmin is hired to sit -the _dhurna_, and this is the process--a process, by the way, which -Monsieur Dimanche tried on Don Juan, but unsuccessfully. The Brahmin -goes to the house or tent of the debtor, sometimes attended by numerous -followers, and he announces the _dhurna_, by which the debtor must not -eat until he has discharged his liabilities. The clerical bailiff sits -at his side and is bound to fast also, until the matter is arranged. -He who holds out longest wins the day, and if the debtor be famished -he will pay rather than die outright, for eat he dare not until his -creditor be satisfied; besides, if he were to starve the Brahmin to -death, the crime would be so heinous, that the debtor himself had -better have departed to the world of shadows. It ensues that sitting -_dhurna_ is more successful in certain districts than it would be in -Belgravia, even though the Archbishop of Canterbury himself were to -take his seat in the middle of the square, with a declaration that he -would neither move nor eat until every inhabitant in the parish had -paid his Christmas bills. Poor man! he would have to sit as long as -_infelix Theseus_. - -The saints of our puritan days were great favourers of public fasts; -but these fasts were less numerous after they had consolidated their -power, than before. “In the beginning of the wars,” says Foulis, in -his “History of the wicked Plots of the pretended Saints,” “a public -monthly fast was appointed for the last Wednesday of every month, but -no sooner had they got the king upon the scaffold, and the nation fully -secured to the Rump interest, but they thought it needless to abuse -and gall the people with a multitude of prayers and sermons,” and so, -by a particular act of their worships (April 23, 1649), nulled the -proclamation for the observation of the former; all which verifieth the -old verses:-- - - “‘The devil was sick, the devil a monk would be. - The devil was well, the devil a monk was he.’” - -George Fox, the father of the Quakers, remarks in his Journal, of the -Puritans and their fasts:--“Both in the time of the Long Parliament, -and of the Protector, so called, and of the Committee of Safety, when -they proclaimed fasts, they were commonly like Jezebels, and there -was some mischief to be done.” Taylor, the Water-poet, compares their -fasts to hidden feasts. “They were like the holy maid,” he says, “that -enjoined herself to abstain four days from any meat whatsoever; and -being locked close up in a room, she had nothing but her two books to -feed upon; but the two books were two painted boxes, made in the form -of great Bibles, with clasps and bosses, the inside not having one word -of God in them; but the one was filled with sweetmeats, the other with -wine; upon which this devout votary did fast with zealous meditation, -eating up the contents of one book, and drinking as contentedly the -other.” Dr. South, in his Sermons, is equally severe. He observes -that “their fasts usually lasted from seven in the morning till seven -at night; the pulpit was always the emptiest thing in the church; and -there never was such a fast kept by them, but their hearers had cause -to begin a thanksgiving as soon as they had done.” Butler, in his -Hudibras, hints that the work of fasting was to be accounted to the -faster, righteousness:-- - - “For ’tis not now who’s stout and bold, - But who bears hunger best, and cold. - And he’s approved the most deserving, - Who longest can hold out at starving.” - -The fasting of the civilians, however, was made to turn to the benefit -of the military gentlemen; and, in March, 1644, an ordinance was passed -for the contribution of one meal a week towards the charge of the army. -There was by far a more considerable liberality of spirit among some of -the clergy of the time of Louis XIV. than in the Puritan authorities, -inasmuch as they permitted others to follow clerical example rather -than precept. The celebrated preacher, Father Feuillot, for instance, -stood by while “Monsieur” was enjoying an uncanonical collation in -the middle of Lent. His Highness held up a _macaron_, and remarked, -“This is not breaking fast, is it?” “Nay,” said Feuillot, “you may eat -a calf, if you will only act like a Christian.” I am afraid that we -had not improved at home, in the last century. On one of the fasts of -that period, Walpole comments after his usual gay fashion. “Between -the French and the earthquakes,” he says, in 1756, “you have no notion -how good we are grown; nobody makes a suit of clothes now but of -sackcloth, turned up with ashes. The fast was kept so devoutly, that -Dick Edgecumbe, finding a very lean hazard at White’s, said with a -sigh, ‘Lord! how the times are degenerated! Formerly, a fast would have -brought everybody hither; now it keeps everybody away!’ A few nights -before, two men were walking up the Strand, one said to t’other, ‘Look -how red the sky is! Well, thank God, there is to be no masquerade!’” - -An ex-Capuchin has revealed some of the mysteries of the house of -which he was lately a member, and by this it would appear that the -Friars of the nineteenth century are as little for slender diet as -the fine gentlemen of the eighteenth. “These Capuchins,” he says, -“of squalid appearance, clothed in serge, with shaven heads and bare -feet, presenting the very type of humility and self-renunciation, -enjoy the luxuries of life with a prodigality unknown to you. The poor -friars have, with one exception, no enjoyment of the things of this -world, their only worldly comfort is good cheer. The friars have three -carnivals in the year, of two or three weeks’ duration each. These -are the only periods at which they can recruit their wasted strength, -to enable them to resist the mortifications of the rest of the year. -During these few weeks they have seven courses served at dinner, all -substantial and choice dishes, the most dainty morsels that can be -provided. At supper they have five courses. By that hour, in spite of -their plentiful dinner, they have regained their appetites; and their -digestion is again most active. These courses are as substantial as -those of the dinner, and are despatched with equal facility by these -men of iron frame and tranquil conscience.... _Lent_ is arrived! Well, -you must fast, you must mortify the flesh, but you must not die of -inanition. A good table is necessary, or you will suffer too much from -contrast with the past few weeks. You need double the supply that the -secular orders do when they fast, for your digestion is twice as active -as theirs. Supper is now a sadly scanty meal; it consists simply of -fish, bread, wine, and fruit. A miserable dish! not miserable as to -quantity or quality, but because it is the solitary dish during the -forty days of Lent, always excepting bread and wine _ad libitum_. -Fortunately, the friars are wise and provident; the slender supper is -foreseen and provided against at dinner, which consists of four dishes. -The bottle of good wine is valuable now, or they would be overcome with -weakness.” Such is the testimony of a living witness, who pledges his -reputation for the truth of his depositions. - -I do not know that there is much that is exaggerated in this, for from -M. Saurin we hear that, in France, well-to-do priests mortify the -flesh on maigre days by very pretty eating. The bill of fare of these -saintly men has been known to include soup _au coulis d’écrevisse_, -salmon trout, an omelette _au Thon_, that would have called a dead -_gastronome_ to life; a salad, the very smell of which seemed to give -eternal youth; Semonal cheese, fruit, confectionary, a light wine, and -a cup of coffee. By such self-denial is heaven gained by modern saints, -in orders; having fair fortunes, and looks with the same characteristic. - -The Dominicans of Italy are in no degree behind their brethren in -France. The “late prior and visitor of the order,” who recently -published his dealings with the Inquisition, thus describes his ancient -brethren. “They do nothing,” he says, “which they are bound to do by -their rules, if these are opposed to their inclinations. They profess -never to eat meat in the refectory, or room for their common meals; but -there is another room near it, which they call by another name, where -they eat meat constantly. On Good Friday, they are commanded by their -rules to eat bread and drink water. At the dinner hour they all go -together into the refectory, to eat bread and drink water, but having -done so for the sake of appearance, they go one after another into -another room, where a good dinner is prepared for them all. I do not -blame them for enjoying it; but I blame them for feigning an abstinence -which none of them intend to keep.” These Dominicans, honest fellows! -are more hungry than the gods of the old régime of whom it is said,-- - - “The Gods require the thighs - Of beeves for sacrifice; - Which roasted, we the steam - Must sacrifice to them, - Who, though they do not eat, - Yet love the smell of meat.” - -But our poor friend the monk has witnesses in his favour, as well as -opposed to him. Some men call him a living mummy swathed in faith. -Another says he is “a moral gladiator who wrestles with his passions, -and either stifles them or is devoured by them.” A third, describes -him picturesquely as a sea-worthy vessel moored in a stagnant dock; -and a fourth dismisses him contemptuously as a coward who won’t fight. -Even allowing him to be all these, it does not follow that he is to -be deprived of his dinner. If _he_ pays homage with his body to the -saints, he has earned what has been called the mind’s daily homage to -the body. Dinner should be the peculiar privilege of the monk, for it -is as _he_ is, in some sense, “the open friend of poverty, the secret -foe of riches” and if dinner be “the breakfast of the poor and the -supper of the rich,” it is doubly due to the monk, who can claim it by -either title. And it must not be supposed that they do not know how to -enjoy pleasure like sensible men. The Abbé of St. Sulpice, a Bernardine -monastery in the south of France, once invited a party of merry -and musical gentlemen from the neighbouring town to come up to the -monastery, and give the monks a treat of good music on the _fête_ day -of their patron saint. A joyous company ascended at early dawn to the -monastery; the most remarkable incident connected with which is, that -it is seated at the edge of a pine forest, from which a hurricane swept -down, in one night, thirty-seven thousand trees. The visitors were -received by the cellarer, the abbé not being yet risen, who conducted -them to the refectory, where they found awaiting them a pâté as big as -a church; flanked on the north by a quarter of cold veal; on the south -by a monster ham; on the east by a monumental pile of butter; and on -the west by a bushel of artichokes _à la poivrade_. All the necessary -adjuncts were at hand; and among others, a party of lay brethren ready -to wait upon the visitors, and very much astonished to find themselves -out of bed at so early an hour. An array of a hundred bottles of wine -bespoke the fathers’ idea of good cheer; and the cellarer, having -bidden them fall-to and welcome, deplored his inability to join them, -not having yet said mass,--and he then took his leave to go and sing -“matins.” - -The breakfast was done ample justice to; after which the visitors -retired to take a short repose, subsequently repairing to the church, -where they performed a musical service with the usual zeal and energy -of amateurs, and received modestly the showers of thanks that descended -upon them in return. - -Monks and musicians then sat down to a dinner,--ample, admirably -cooked, excellently served, and thoroughly enjoyed. The abundance -that marked it may be judged of by the fact, that at the second -course there were not less than fifteen dishes of roasted meats. The -dessert would have made the eyes of a queen sparkle; the liqueurs were -choice, and the coffee redolent of Araby the Blest. The enjoyment was -long and perfect; and by the end of the repast, there was not man or -monk present who was not in charity with all the world. The “pious, -glorious, and immortal memory” of St. Bernard was not forgotten among -the toasts. - -And then came vespers and more amateur music,--probably more vigorously -performed than in the morning. And after vespers there was a division -of pleasures: some took to quiet games at cards, some chose a ramble -in the wood, and a few looked in again upon their friend the cellarer. -As night came on, all again drew together, but the discreet abbot -retired, willing to allow the brethren full liberty on a festival -which only came “once a year.” And to do the brothers justice, they -began to make a night of it as soon as the superior had disappeared. -Jokes and laughter and winged words flew about like wildfire, and the -exercise got thereby sharpened the general appetite for supper,--a -repast which was discussed with a vivacity as if the guests had been -fasting up to that very hour. Wit and wine, and wisdom and folly, were -all mingled together; and the oldest of the fathers present, with a -flush on the cheek and a light in the eye, joined _chorus_ in table -songs that were _not_ sung to the tune of _Nunc dimittis_. It was when -the fun was flying most fast and furious, that a voice exclaimed, -“Brother cellarer, where is your official dish?” “True!” answered that -reverend individual; “I am not cellarer for nothing;”--and therewith -he disappeared, but speedily returned accompanied by three servitors, -bearing piles of buttered toast and bowls of what worldly men would -have called “punch.” If the fun had waxed fast before, it grew fiery -now, and fervour for the patron saint glowed at the very fiercest heat -that punch could give it. In the midst of it all, the hour of midnight -was solemnly tolled out by the convent bell, and the revellers, -reverend and laic, swang merrily to bed, satisfied with the day well -spent in honour of St. Bernard. - -I have now spoken of the Dominicans, Capuchins, and Bernardins. The -Franciscans are a not less lively fraternity. When the author of -Eöthen was at the Franciscan Monastery in Damascus, he asked one of -the monks to tell what places were best worth seeing, in reference to -their association with St. Paul. “There is nothing in all Damascus,” -said the good man, “half so well worth seeing as our cellars;” and -forthwith he invited the stranger to “go and admire the long range of -liquid treasures that he and his brethren had laid up for themselves -upon earth.” And, adds the author, “these I soon found were not as the -treasures of the miser, that lie in unprofitable disuse; for day by -day, and hour by hour, the golden juice ascended from the dark recesses -of the cellar to the uppermost brains of the friars, dear old fellows! -In the midst of that solemn land, their Christian laughter rang loudly -and merrily. Their eyes kept flashing with joyous bonfires, and their -heavy woollen petticoats could no more weigh down the springiness of -their paces, than the filmy gauze of a _danseuse_ can cloy her bounding -step.” - -Richard the First, as worthless a human being as ever lived, bankrupt -in every virtue save that of brute courage, in making legacy of his -vices, said he would bequeath gluttony to the priests. It was rather -a compliment than otherwise, for the inference was, that they lacked -what he was willing to surrender, when he could no longer enjoy it. St. -Augustin settled this vexed question as to what was “good living,” when -he said, that “the great fast was abstinence from vice.” And in the -true spirit of St. Augustin’s prose, rings the rich rhyme in Herrick’s -Noble Numbers. “Is this,” he says, - - “Is this a fast, to keep - The larder leane - And cleane - From fat of veales and sheep? - - “Is it to quit the dish - Of flesh, yet still - To fill - The platter high with fish? - - “Is it to faste an houre? - Or ragged to go, - Or show - A downcast look, and soure? - - “No; ’tis a fast, to dole - Thy sheaf of wheat, - And meat, - Unto the hungry soule. - - “It is to fast from strife, - From old debate, - And hate; - To circumcise thy life. - - “To show a heart grief-rent, - To starve thy sin, - Not bin: - And that’s to keep thy Lent.” - -This is better philosophy than that given on a similar subject by -Montesquieu, who only recommends moderation on the ground that it -lengthens the term of enjoyment. “I call moderation,” says Pythagoras, -“all that does not engender pain;” and by this maxim of the Hellenized -Hindoo, Buddha Ghooros, the saints both of the desert and the -dining-room may, perhaps, in their several ways be condemned. - -In treating of the diet of more modern saints than those of the days -of martyrdom, I might have noticed the fact, that in not very remote -times, the parsonage-house at Langdale, in Westmoreland, was licensed -as an ale-house, the living being too poor to allow the incumbent to -make anything like one upon it for himself. The ale-cask became to the -priest, what the fruit of the amrite tree was to the Tibetians--the -spring of life. This Westmoreland ale was accounted a great -strengthener, but so have many less likely things. But enough of the -“saints,” good men and true the majority of them, earning their right -to enjoy the rich blessings of God, by fairer means, perhaps, than many -of their censurers. I know no set of men so well to contrast with the -saints, as the “Cæsars,” and we have yet time before supper to attend -that august company to table. - - - - -THE CÆSARS AT TABLE. - - -It is a well-ascertained truth, that the Cæsars at table by no means -generally conducted themselves as though they were under the influence -of a Roman Chesterfield, as regarded their behaviour; or a Roman -Abernethy, as regarded their moderation. Perhaps the great Julius -was as much of a gentleman in both the above respects as any of his -imperial successors; and even he could reform the calendar with far -more ease than he could reform himself. - -When he was commanding in the Roman provinces, beyond the Italian -frontier, he kept two distinct tables. At one sat his inferior officers -and the Greeks who were in his service. The latter do not appear to -have expressed any discontent at not ranking with their Roman comrades. -At the other table sat none but Romans of high state, with such native -guests of quality as Cæsar chose to invite to meet them. He would watch -his servants as sharply as he did the enemy; and on one occasion, -having observed that his baker had put down to his guests a coarser -bread than that which he had served to Cæsar, he sent the knave to -prison, there to learn better manners. - -Cæsar was as sober as Sir Charles Napier, who used to sign himself -“Governor of Scinde, because I was always a sober man.” Cato said -of Julius, that he was the only sober man who had ever attempted to -subvert a government; “a cutting sarcasm on all preceding patriots.” -As for sauces, the Duke of Wellington did not inspire Francatelli -with more despair upon that head, than Cæsar did _his_ cook. It was -immaterial to him whether he had sauce to his meat, or not; and as to -the quality, he never concerned himself about it. He ate, thankfully -perhaps, but thoughtlessly, certainly. His politeness was sometimes -ridiculously excessive, as when he ate up the ointment which had been -served instead of sauce, at a table where he was a guest, and where he -was courteously resolved to find everything excellent. But although -the great Julius was, according to Cato, the only man who came sober -to the subversion of his country, he had some unsoberly habits about -him. Thus, when invited to a feast, he used to whet his appetite by -taking an emetic. This is attested by Cicero, who says, in his letters -to Atticus, (lib. xiii. p. 52,) “Unctus est; accubuit; ἐμετικήν agebat. -Itaque edit et bibit ἀδεῶς et jucunde.” Suetonius agrees with Cato, -that Cæsar was moderate with regard to wine:--“Vini parcissimum ne -quidem inimici negaverunt.” - -It is singular that a man who cared so little as he was reported to -have done for his stomach, should have cared so much about the outside -of his head. He could eat pomatum, and yet be ashamed of the baldness -which a proper application of the unguent might perhaps have cured. - -Augustus Cæsar, who visited prisoners, like Howard, and cut off heads -like an Algerine Dey, was moderate in his cups, and endeavoured to make -the people so. When the latter once complained that wine was not only -dear, but scarce, he gravely proclaimed that his son-in-law Agrippa had -been looking to the aqueducts, and there was no fear of any one dying -of thirst. - -There were seasons, however, when he could be more than imperially -extravagant. Witness the little supper he gave to chosen guests, all of -whom attended in the attire of gods and goddesses; and at which feast -he presided in the character of Apollo. The wits of the day, who were -not invited, denounced this supper as an orgy at which decent people -would not have been present, even if asked. Such stupendous iniquity -was said there to have been enacted, that the real gods who had at -first looked laughingly down from Olympus, withdrew one by one behind -their respective clouds. Even Jove himself, who sat gazing longest, at -length hurried away from the sight of men, who were greater beasts than -the privileged gods! - -Like some of the extravagant and unclean banquets at Versailles, this -entertainment was given when there was a famine in the city. On the -following day, the people exclaimed in the streets, “It is the gods who -have devoured the food.” The less fearful than these raised an altar to -Augustus Phœbus, and there paid mock worship to the Emperor, under the -title of Apollo the Tormentor. - -It was not every one that deemed himself entitled, that could find -access to the table of Cæsar Augustus. He was extremely nice with -regard to his associates, but he was not so nice with respect to -keeping his guests waiting for his company. It was the maxim of Sir -Joshua Reynolds, that it was far less courteous on principle to allow -hungry guests to be kept from table out of respect to one man, than it -was to go to dinner without him. So also Augustus thought that the many -should not be made to wait for one; and, accordingly, he frequently -did not appear at table till the repast was half over; and sometimes -departed even then, after tasting of from three to half-a-dozen dishes, -before it was concluded. - -He was dignified and condescending, enjoyed the jokes of those who were -bold enough to make them, and encouraged the reserved to be bold and -jocund too. When jests lacked from either of those parties, the master -of the Roman world then laughed, as he sipped his moderate draught, at -the quips and cranks of the hired jesters, whose office it was to be -cheerful when the guests grew dull. - -It has come down to us that he was a lover of brown bread, small fish, -green cheese and green figs. He was so far intemperate that he would -never let his appetite tarry till meal-time. He ate when he was hungry, -and perhaps he was right. And yet it was but an unedifying sight to see -him passing in his chariot through the public streets, returning the -greetings of the people with one hand full of bread, the other full -of dates, and his almost sacred mouth full of both. He was, in fact, -wayward in his attentions to his appetite, and would occasionally fast -till sunset if the caprice took him. As to what is said of him that he -sometimes rose from the most sumptuous banquets, leaving the viands -untouched,--this was perhaps because the edge of his appetite had been -altogether destroyed by brown bread and indigestible fruit. - -In the day-time he quenched his thirst by eating of bread dipped in -water, by drinking water itself, or by taking a slice of cucumber, -lettuce, or unripe apple. His moderation in drinking, when he _did_ -take up the goblet at the evening repast, is much spoken of, but as we -hear more of the quantity than of the strength of what he drank, it is -difficult to decide upon this point. Suetonius admiringly records that -“he never exceeded a quart for his share, or if he did, he was sure -to throw it up again.” This is but equivocal praise after all. He was -a very great man, no doubt, but, demi-god as he almost was, he spelt -after the “cacological” fashion of Lord Duberly; and he was more afraid -of lying awake in the dark than any little baron or squire in the -nurseries of Belgravia and the adjacent squares. - -Tiberius, like his predecessor, treated his soldiers occasionally like -schoolboys, and when they displeased him, he used to put them on a -regimen of barley. Tiberius himself was not a profuse eater; he was -rather moderate than otherwise, and when gastronomic extravagancy had -reached a high pitch in Rome, he used to dine in public, like the kings -of France, but, unlike them, upon cold meat, as a reproof to the luxury -of the times. He was not, however, at all moderate in his cups, and the -Roman wits, who, like those of Paris, used to make merry epigrams on -the worst of their woes, punningly transformed his names of Tiberius -Claudius Nero, into _Biberius Caldius Mero_. He had a reverence too -for great draughts, and he once raised a common fellow to the office -of quæstor, simply because he could drink off a measure of three pints -of wine without drawing breath. Most of the Cæsars must have been very -unsatisfactory people to dine with, but none more so than Tiberius, who -loved discussion, but if he found himself worsted in it, he invariably -ordered his opponent to retire--and commit suicide. A hot bath and a -vein or two opened soon disposed of an inconvenient adversary. He used -to puzzle his guests with all sorts of strange questions, such as would -puzzle even the editor of _Notes and Queries_ to answer. One of these -interrogatory puzzles was “the name of the song chanted by the Syrens.” -He would not speak the fashionable Greek at table, but conversed in -Latin; and his favourite feat at dessert was to run his forefinger -through a hard green apple. - -Caligula must have been a most unpleasant person to dine with. He -entertained himself and his guests with the sight of men tortured on -the rack, and he got up little private executions on those occasions -to enliven the scene. We read of Her Majesty’s private concerts, and -how “Mrs. Anderson” presided at the piano. But the Romans only heard -of their Emperor’s killing fun to frighten his guests with, and how -his Divinity’s private headsman, Niger Barbatus, performed, as usual, -with his well-known dexterity. His frolics were really of a frightful -character. It was after a banquet, when the capital jest of slaying -had failed to make him as merry as usual, that he rushed to the -sacrificial altar, attired in the dress of a victim-killer, that is, -with a linen apron for his sole costume. He seized the mallet as though -he were about to slay the appointed victim, but he turned suddenly -round on the resident official and butchered him instead. And thereat, -all who had witnessed the frolicsome deed of their master, declared -that “’Fore Jove, ’twas a more capital joke than the last!” His answer -to the Consuls who ventured to ask the cause of a sudden burst of -laughter in which he indulged at a crowded feast, is well known; “I -laugh to think,” said the amiable creature, “that with one wave of my -hand I can sweep all your stupid heads off!” His method of loving was -equally characteristic. He would fling his terrible arm round the fair -neck he professed to admire, and express his delight that he could cut -it off when he pleased. There was the brilliant Cesonia; “I cannot -tell,” said her imperial lover at a feast, “why it is that I am so fond -of that girl. I’ll have her put on the rack for a quarter of an hour, -that she may be compelled to tell me the reason.” Blue Beard was the -mildest of Quaker gentlemen compared with this Caligula. A lady might -as well have been wooed by a boa constrictor. - -Claudius Cæsar has hardly had justice done him, as regards his general -character, but as my office is only to show how he looked at table, -I must be satisfied with making the remark, and pass on to Cæsar at -meat. He was no hero, undoubtedly, for he contemplated suicide, for -no better reason than having a pain in his stomach after a repast. In -this, however, he did not show less courage than Zeno, the father of -the Stoics, who having bruised his finger by a fall, went home and hung -himself. - -He was largely hospitable, and sometimes entertained six hundred -guests at a time. He liked on these occasions to see his own children -and those of the nobility seated, according to the ancient fashion, -at the lower end of the table. It is to be hoped that they were out -of ear-shot of what was being said at the upper end. The jokes were -sometimes pleasant enough in their way. Thus a Roman nobleman having -carried home with him a gold plate from the imperial table, was gently -reminded of his theft when, on the next occasion of dining with -Claudius, he saw a reproachfully vulgar earthenware platter put down -before him. - -He was a man of infinite capacity, was the divine Claudius,--that is, -in gastronomic matters. He was ever ready to devour, and always did -so greedily. He has been known to have suddenly jumped down from his -seat in the forum, allured by the smell of roast meat issuing from the -priest’s table, in the adjacent temple of Mars. And he would sit down -with the reverend gentleman, without waiting for an invitation. It must -have surely made the common-place spectators of the feat broadly smile, -just as if the twelve judges in Westminster Hall were to leap from -their benches, and racing across the churchyard, pour into the first -house in the cloisters where the dinner-bell was ringing loudest, and -the prandial odour was most savoury. - -He ate like Baal, and drank like the beast in Fortunatus. He did both -to repletion; but his attendants would then tickle his throat with -a feather, and so, by exonerating his stomach, enable the imperial -animal to eat and drink again. He contemplated making a decree for the -benefit of guests at table, which was of a Rabelaisian indelicacy, and -which probably never presented itself to the minds of any other men but -Claudius and the Curé of Meudon. - -Caligula had more affection for his horse than for anything human. He -fed him on gilded oats, and the animal was not a more beastly consul -than many who were appointed to that high office. The emperor’s dinner -parties must have presented a strange aspect, when the obsequious -senators stood, napkin in hand, to wait upon the guests. Fancy the -peers of all politics, and the commons of every shade of opinion, all -ranged behind the dinner-table at Windsor Castle, in the professional -uniform of dingy white waistcoats and napless black coats, with their -thumbs duly doubled up in napkins, and all offering anxious service, -and “dindon à la daube” to our Sovereign Lady and her guests,--fancy -this, I say, and you will have the very remotest idea possible of what -the sight was like when the senators changed the plates of Cæsar. The -personages and their qualities are all different, but the strangeness -of one spectacle could only be matched by that of the other. - -Nero (who found sport in sitting in an upper gallery at the theatre, -and flinging down nuts upon the bald head of the prætor below) was a -very common-place individual at table, but he assembled guests about -him who were ever ready to consume his good things and applaud his good -sayings. Galba, his successor, was at once gouty and gluttonous. He -commenced eating at early dawn, and darkness came over him still with -appetite unsatiated. He was as mean, however, as he was voracious. He -did once so far whip up his liberal spirit as to compel himself to give -a dinner party; but when he read the bill of fare, he fairly burst -into tears at the idea of the extravagance and the expense. And yet -the most costly dish he could reprovingly point to, when his steward -challenged him, was a dish of boiled peas;--but perhaps they were out -of season, and Galba knew he should be asked for them at least a guinea -a quart! _He_ would never have been guilty of the prodigality of the -Emperor Otho, who daily wasted more bread and milk in making cosmetic -poultices to lay on his own face than would have served to keep body -and soul together in half-a-dozen families. The father of Vitellius -more gallantly, when he wished to look well at the centre of his table, -was wont to besmear himself with a mixture made up of honey and his -mistress’s saliva. He of course deemed it impossible to say which was -the sweeter of the two ingredients. This was even worse than Galba, who -was, however, essentially greedy; the latter emperor could not eat with -pleasure unless he had more before him than he could digest. When his -stomach cried, “Hold, enough!” he used it as the Somersetshire lad did -_his_. “Ah!” exclaimed the lad of Wincanton, to certain monitions,--“ye -may ake, but, ’vor I ha’ done, I’ll make ye ake worser.” Galba, when -no longer able to eat, lay and gazed at what he hoped to attack more -successfully after digestion had been accomplished. - -Otho is remembered as being the complaisant gentleman who, when Nero -had determined to murder his mother, gave an exquisite little supper to -both parties by way of a pleasant preliminary. But Otho could at least -behave with outward decency, and of this Vitellius was incapable. If he -walked through the market-place, he snatched the meat roasting at the -cooks’ stalls, and greedily devoured it. He was not more reverent even -in the temple; where, taking advantage of his vicinity to the altar, -he would sweep the latter of the barley that was on it, consecrated to -the god, and swallow the same, like the sacrilegious heathen that he -was. When about to fly from the enemies who had overturned his throne, -he selected only his cook and his butler to be the companions of his -flight, and he took the former dear associate with him, in his own -covered chair. - -The chief table trait which I can call to mind as connected with -Vespasian is, that once a month he went without dinner for a day. Such -an observance, he said, saved at once his health and his purse. He had -so much the less to pay to his purveyor; and in consequence of the -fast, less also perhaps than if he had feasted, to his physician. Both -the sons of Vespasian, Titus and Domitian, were modest at the banquet. -The former had ceased to be a free liver before he put on the imperial -mantle; and as for Domitian, he could wash down his Malian apple with a -draught of water, and then address himself to sleep, as though he were -a virtuous anchorite, and not the most thirsty drinker of human blood -that ever disgraced his race. - - * * * * * - -The five succeeding emperors,--Nerva, Trajan, Hadrian, and the two -Antonines,--Antoninus Pius, and Marcus Aurelius,--governed the world -during the eighty years which are said, but questionably I think, -to have been the happiest years of the human race. There is little -on record as to how these potentates disported themselves at table. -Trajan, indeed, is known to have been a fearful drinker; but he loved -a quiet, unceremonious dinner at the house of a friend of modest -degree,--for there he tippled and talked to his heart’s content, and -willingly forgot that he was Cæsar. Hadrian is remembered as the first -Roman emperor who wore a beard. He had warts on his throat, and he did -not like that these should be seen by his guests at table. He once gave -an entertainment which cost upwards of two millions sterling, (when -Verus was made Cæsar,) and he was sorry for it through the remainder -of his life. Many a man of far humbler degree has committed the same -kind of extravagance, and experienced the same enduring repentance. -Antoninus kept the table of a country gentleman; and Marcus Aurelius -dined alone, while Commodus, his son, played at his knee. The board of -that son resembled that of Vitellius, and he fell from it one day, full -of drugged wine administered to him by a concubine, and was strangled -as he lay beneath the table, drunk, and deserving of his fate. - -The modest Pertinax was less happy as emperor than when, as a simple -official, he had charge of the provisions of Rome. Didius Julianus -was deep in the luxuries of the table, and not nearly so deep in -wisdom, when he made a bid for the diadem, a few uneasy dinners in the -palace, and death. Septimius Severus, cared less for the splendour of -his table than the consolidation of his power, but his banquets were -choice things, nevertheless. His sons, Caracalla and Geta, exemplified -their fraternal unanimity by keeping different tables. They never -sat down together at the same board; and there were two factions in -the court, something like that of George the Second, at St. James’s, -and the son whom he hated, Frederick, Prince of Wales, in Leicester -Square. Macrinus was a coarse feeder, and in everything he presented a -remarkable contrast with his successor Heliogabalus. - -Heliogabalus lay on couches stuffed with hare’s down, or partridge -feathers. Ælius Verus reclined on cushions of lily and rose-leaves. -The first-named monster had his funny moments; and sometimes he would -invite a certain number of bald men, or of gouty men, or grey-headed -men, and he was particularly amused at a company of fat men, so crowded -together that they could find room only to perspire. “One of his -favourite diversions consisted in filling a leathern table-couch with -air instead of wool; and while the guests were engaged in drinking, -a tap, concealed under the carpet, was opened, unknown to them,--the -couch sank, and the drinkers rolled pell-mell under the sigma, to the -great delight of the beardless emperor.” He was the first Roman emperor -who wore garments of pure, unmixed silk. He cared little for poets or -philosophers; but he gave liberal premiums to the inventors of new -sauces, provided these pleased his palate. If he disliked them, the -inventor was condemned to eat of nothing else, until he had discovered -a new condiment to win the imperial sanction. Heliogabalus and George -I. had this in common, that they both liked fish a trifle stale. Thus, -it is known that George never cared for oysters till their shells began -spontaneously to gape; and the Oriental master of the Roman empire, -who made a barber prefect of the provisions, would never eat sea-fish -except at a great distance from the sea, when they acquired the taint -he loved. His delight then was to distribute vast quantities of the -rarest sorts, brought at an immense expense, to the peasants of the -inland country. The table of his successor, Alexander Severus, was -that of a gentleman. Its master was the first Roman emperor to whom -that title can be incontestably given; and he loved to have around -him accomplished guests of all varieties of opinion; and this is much -more than can be said for that huge and hungry Goth, Maximin. The -Gordians brought back some of the elegances of social life, which the -uncleanness and severity of Maximin had banished; but at both the -private and public, the humble and the imperial, tables of Rome, there -must have been small ceremony and permanent fear during the brief and -troubled reigns of the foolish men who purchased the right of dining -in an imperial mantle by being speedily enveloped in a bloody shroud. -Gallienus, alone, shines out upon the list as the very prince of cooks; -and if Carême had possessed half the enthusiasm which he so warmly -affected, he would have named his son and heir after this imperial -inventor of _ragoûts_,--who was also the accelerator of the ruin of -Rome. All the temperance of the Gothic Claudius could not restore -the remnant of ancient moderation, which had been destroyed by that -imperial maker of stews, the ever hungry and cruel Gallienus. Aurelian -failed, like Claudius, but the emperor Tacitus was more successful, -and the descendant of the great historian, even during _his_ short -reign, roused the nobles to a sense of dignity, and honoured science by -inviting its disciples to his well-ordered table. - -A subsequent emperor, Carus, was perhaps one of the most frugal, by -habit and inclination, that ever wore the imperial sword upon his -thigh. Carus was at once moderate and mirthful. He was seated on the -grass, supping on dry bread and grey peas, when the Persian ambassadors -came to him, suing for peace. “The matter just stands thus, gentlemen,” -said the emperor, opening his mouth widely, at the same time, to insert -a shovel-like spoonful of peas; “if your master does not acknowledge -the superiority of Rome, I will render Persia,”--and here he took off -the cap which he wore to conceal his entire baldness,--“I will render -Persia as destitute of trees as my head is of hair.” Having said which, -he resumed swallowing his peas, and left the delegates to digest his -remark. - -We are accustomed to consider Diocletian dining at Salona, on the -cabbages he had reared there, as an emperor in reduced circumstances; -but the truth is, that the palace, gardens, and table of the ex-emperor -were all of a splendid character, and if his table was adorned by the -cabbages he had tended to a prize perfection, he was far too wise an -epicure to confine himself to that dish alone. - -The great Constantine appears under a double aspect, and the least -favourable one is offered to us in his maturer years, when he -surrendered himself more unreservedly than before to good living, for -which he had peculiar facilities at Byzantium, took to wearing false -hair, and became altogether a ridiculous old dandy and _bon vivant_; -the ridicule of whom, by his clever and unscrupulous nephew, Julian, -I am not at all surprised at; for what is so eagerly seized upon by -affectionate nephews as the foibles of their indulgent uncles? Julian -was possessed just of that scampish sort of nepotism which leads the -modest young relative to eat an uncle’s dinners and deride the donor. -Julian’s own table would have gained the contempt of an editor of the -_Almanach des Gourmands_. Its frugality was frigidly parsimonious in -its character. The philosophic emperor was a vegetarian, and even of -vegetables he ate sparingly, but swiftly, leaping up, as it were, from -dining thereon, to hurry to his books or the public business, which -he quitted reluctantly when the hour of supper summoned him even to a -more frugal meal than the dinner, which he despatched with a celerity -not at all admired by those who dined with him. Nothing disgusted -him so much as a gross feeder, and probably nothing ever so greatly -surprised him as when, on taking possession of Constantinople, he found -one thousand cooks waiting to prepare the imperial dinner! A thousand -cooks for a man who could dine on a boiled turnip! The Constantines had -been accustomed to dine upon birds from the most distant climates, fish -from the most remote seas; to have a dessert of fruits out of their -natural seasons, and to drink foreign wines cooled in the summer snows -of the lofty hills. All this was as useless to a man who needed but -a crust and an apple to calm his appetite, as were the golden basins -and the jewelled combs to an emperor like Julian, who seldom washed -even his face, and who not only never cleaned his hair, but _felt_ -the lively luxury of leaving it undisturbed. Julian in this respect -was like Anthony Pasquin, who was said to have died of a cold caught -by washing his face. There was a famous Irish member of Parliament, -who, unlike Julian, was a glutton at dinner, but who was remarkable -for his religious abstinence from all ablution. His son was one day -standing in the bow-window of White’s, when the sire was passing down -the opposite side of the street. I believe it was the noble lord who, -when Mr. Gunter in the hunting-field remarked that his horse was too -“hot” to ride comfortably, suggested to the equestrian pastrycook -that he should _ice_ him.--I believe it was the same noble lord who, -on the first occasion alluded to above, said to “Jack T----,” “Jack! -what _does_ make your father’s hands so dirty?” “Well!” said the old -Colonel’s affectionate son, “I believe it arises from a bad habit he -has of putting them up to his face!” And so of Julian we may say, that -if his hands were innocent of water, his famous beard was dirtier than -his hands, and that it was not pleasant to lie near the emperor at -dinner, unless guardedly ensconced to the leeward of his sacred and -dirty person. - -If Gratian, who was the first Roman emperor who refused the pontifical -robe, had lived but as became the master of an imperial household, his -sacrifice would have had more merit; but the emperors of these times -had curious ideas as to duties. Thus the second Valentinian delighted -in giving splendid dinners, but at these entertainments he always, -himself, fasted;--a most discouraging course for the guests,--but -he thought there was merit in the work. But Theodosius was at least -as good a man, and we know that _he_ enjoyed the sensual and social -pleasures of the table without excess; and the same taste was shown by -that emperor Maximus, who is said to have espoused Helena, the daughter -of a wealthy Caernarvonshire lord, and to have renewed the popularity -of boiled leeks in Rome; and this was a better taste than that of -Honorius, who took to feeding poultry and eating them, while Stilicho -ruled the empire, and the eunuchs lived on the very fat of the land. -It was decidedly better too than the taste which led Valentinian the -third, after dining with Petronius Maximus and winning his money, to -carry off his wife; a Tarquinian insult, which he paid for, however, -with his life. Avitus could indulge in such freaks, however, with -impunity; and he not only seduced Roman matrons, but invited their -husbands to dinner, where the slaves smiled at the imperial raillery -directed against them while the courses were changing! His successor, -Majorianus, was a man of another stamp, and I would fain believe the -pleasant anecdote which says of him that he went to Carthage in the -disguise of his own ambassador, and dined with Genseric the king, -who was especially chafed when he afterwards discovered that he had -entertained, without knowing it, the Emperor of the Romans. Anthemius, -if he be famous for little else, is at least famous for the superb -wedding-dinner with which he celebrated the nuptials of his daughter -with Count Ricimer, a wicked son-in-law who devoured the dinners of -his “beau père,” and robbed him of his estate;--no uncommon course for -sons-in-law to take. The count placed on the uneasy and vacant throne -the epicurean Glycorius, who, having murdered Julius Nepos after a -banquet, was made Archbishop of Milan, as one of the recompenses of -the act. And then the empire fell into the delicate hands of the weak -and beautiful Augustulus, who could not find wherewith in the treasury -to maintain a decent table, and who was glad to accept clemency and -an annuity from Odoacer, whereby he was enabled, upon six thousand -pieces of gold annually, to keep such state in the Castle of Lucullus -in Campania, that the surrounding gentry visited him in shoals, and ate -his dinners by way of proof that they looked upon him as a man of the -highest respectability. - -And this was the end of the “twelve vultures,” seen by Romulus, -foreshadowing the “twelve centuries,” more or less, that were to mark -the duration of the dominion which he founded; a dominion commenced -by a hungry adventurer, and which crumbled to nothing in the hand of -that Augustulus, who was but too rejoiced to take in exchange for it, -the bed, board, and six thousand a year with which he set up as a -hospitable country gentleman, in his rustic villa, on the slopes of -Campania. - - * * * * * - -As for the Cæsars of the Eastern Empire, they were rather Oriental -despots than either Greek or Roman monarchs, just as the Byzantines -were ever more Asiatics than Europeans. The sovereigns, for the most -part, ate at golden tables, and were served like gods. Some of them, -like Romanus, were respectable cooks, and more than one was discussing -the merits of a new sauce or dish, when the Saracens were knocking at -the frontier gates of the empire. The sort of merry humour indulged in -by others may be judged of by a single trait of Michael the Drunkard. -This amiable sovereign started up, one day, from table, ere the -imperial dinner was well over, and assuming an episcopal dress, he -descended into the streets followed by his courtiers. The latter bore -the vinegar and mustard that had been on the monarch’s side-board, -and mixing the condiments together, they stopped all passers-by, -compelled them to kneel, and with horrible profanity and mock psalmody, -administered the Sacrament with the above-named horribly compounded -elements. Such was one of the Eastern Cæsars at and after dinner, and -the easy Byzantines were not much scandalized thereat. Indeed, they -troubled themselves very little about the affairs of the government, or -the doings of the governors; and it would never have entered the head -of a Byzantine subject to say of his son what the American citizen -once remarked, touching his heir, to Mrs. Trollope, namely, that he -would much sooner that his son got drunk three times a week than that -he should refrain from meddling with the politics of his times. - -From the palaces of the Cæsars, let us now pass into the mansions of -miscellaneous majesties, and see how the first gentlemen of their -respective days comported themselves “at meat.” Yes, at _meat_; for “la -viande du Roi” was the consecrated phrase, and guards presented arms, -and courtiers bowed low, as the king’s “meat” was solemnly carried to -the royal table, or borne to the bed-side, where it remained under the -name of an _en cas_, “in case” the august appetite should be lively -before morning. - - - - -THEIR MAJESTIES AT MEAT. - - -There was an old custom at Pisa, the origin of which may be traced to -the anti-judaical days of persecution. On a certain day in the year, -I believe, Good Friday or Easter Sunday, every Jew discovered in the -streets, was hunted down by the populace. When the game was caught he -was weighed, and compelled to ransom himself by paying his own weight -of sweetmeats. It was an advantage, then, at Pisa for a Jew to be of a -Cassius cast. It was different in other days, and climes, with regard -to kings. Nations used to weigh their monarchs yearly, and if the -register showed an increase of dignified obesity, great was the popular -rejoicing thereat. If, on the other hand, the too, too solid flesh of -the potentate had yielded to irresistible influences, and the father -of his people exhibited a falling away in his material greatness, the -body of loyal subjects went into mourning and tears, and deplored the -evil days on which they had fallen, when monarchs could not be kept -up to the old monarchical standard of corpulency. Kings who cared for -the affections of their people were, accordingly, disinterestedly -solicitous to support their corporeal requirements; for to be fat was -to be virtuous, and he was really the greatest of monarchs who required -the greatest circumference of belt. You must understand, however, that -if kings encouraged their own increase, it was disloyal in the people -to imitate them. The monarchs of old, in this respect, were like our -Henry VIII, who never stinted his own appetite, but who imprisoned the -Earl of Surrey in Windsor Castle, for daring to touch a lamb chop on a -Friday. - -The most gigantic of royal feeders placed on the record of ancient -history, was Thys, king of Paphlagonia, at whose table “the entire -animal” was served by hundreds. When he fell into the power of Persia -he exhibited more appetite than grief, and banqueted in such a style -that the courtiers spoke of it wonderingly to their king Artaxerxes. -He replied significantly, “Thys is making the most of the shortness of -life.” - -The kings of Persia were but sorry hosts to dine with. Their table was -in a little recess divided from the outward hall by a low curtain. The -king sat alone in his alcove, and could behold, without being seen, the -guests in the outer hall. The latter were of the highest rank; mere -younger brothers, civilians, and undignified people of that sort, sat -at meat in the galleries. It was only on two or three high days that -the king sat at the same table with his subjects. The royalty of old -Persia had once a reputation for temperance, but to be “royally drunk” -was no uncommon characteristic of his majesty and the princes of the -blood. He generally made drinking parties of a dozen favourites. These -sat on the ground, while the king lay on a gold couch, and the conclave -drank like dragoons, and got infinitely more tipsy. - -In the banquets of state there were a few singularities. Horses and -ostriches appear in the bill of fare, among a hundred other delicacies; -but no guest did more than just taste what was placed before him; and -what he did not eat, he carried home with him. A dainty bit from the -king’s table was a present meet for lover to make to his lady; and a -wooer who brought a rump-steak of horse-flesh in his hand, straight -from the regal banquet, was scarcely a man to be refused anything. - -There was something of grandeur in the banquets of Cleopatra, when -Antony dined with her. The service was in gold, and she made a present -of it to her visitor. On the following day there was a new service, -and it was again presented to “the favoured guest.” Antony himself -exhibited infinitely less taste at Athens. He erected in the public -theatre a scene representing the grotto of Bacchus, dressed himself -like the god, and, with a party of followers as worthless as himself, -sat down at day-break, in presence of an admiring and crowded “house,” -and got dreadfully drunk before breakfast-time. And this knave aspired -to rule in Rome! - -Alexander, and, as may be seen in another page, Augustus, was given -to this sort of theological masquerading. The first-named accepted -banquets from his great officers; and these exhibited their taste by -having all the fruit on the table covered thickly with gold, which, -when the fruit itself was presented to the guests, was torn off and -flung on the ground, for the benefit of the servants. The father of -Alexander had shown in his time a better example of economy. He had but -one gold cup, and to prevent that from being stolen, he placed it every -night under his pillow, and went to sleep upon it. The mad Antiochus, -of Syria, was of another kidney, for whenever he heard of a drinking -bout in his own city, he used to order his chariot, and taking with him -a measure of wine and a goblet, he would rush down to the place and -take a seat uninvited. He was such indifferent company, however, that -the guests could not be prevailed upon to tarry, and even the offer of -his golden goblet was unable to bribe a man to sit and get drunk with a -witless king. - -But the most extraordinary meal I have ever heard of was that made by -Cambes, king of Lydia. He was a great eater, a great drinker, and of -insatiable voracity. It is told of him that he one night cut up his -wife and devoured her, and that he awoke the next morning, with one of -her hands sticking in his mouth. But I have little doubt that something -of an allegory lies under this royal story. Cambes probably had had an -argument with his consort,--a lady of the sort spoken of by Dr. Young -as one who - - Shakes the curtain with her good advice. - -His logic “cut up” her assertions, and thereon he addressed himself to -sleep; but he no sooner awoke in the morning than her hand was upon his -mouth, to prevent his speaking while she reiterated her follies of the -previous night. Poor Cambes! he cut his throat in order to escape from -a too loquacious consort, of whom he is accused of being the murderer -by the libelling Xanthus. - -I may add to the record of these exemplary persons, the name of -Dionysius of Heraclea, who, through good living, fell into such -a condition of obesity and somnolency that he could only be made -conscious by running fine gold needles into his flesh. What a droll -thing it must have been for his morning visitors who found the huge -mass fast asleep at table! Shaking hands with him, or any other -equivalent ceremony, would have been useless. They accordingly took -a gold needle from his girdle and tenderly run it into his fat. When -it reached a vital point, the uneasy monarch snorted and opened one -eye; and this being taken as an acknowledgment of their presence, he -straightway went to sleep again. Ptolemy, the seventh king of Egypt, -was in nearly as deplorable a condition, and Magas of Cyrene was -perhaps even worse. The Ephori, it will be remembered, had a horror -of the Lacedæmonians getting fat, and to prevent this undesirable -consummation, the youth were obliged to present themselves undraped -to the magistrates. Woe to the offenders with prominent stomachs, for -they had them punched till the owners hardly knew whether they stood -on their head or their heels, and could not digest a dinner for a month -afterwards. - -They were beaten almost as badly as the unlucky official who went, in -Parthia, by the name of the king’s friend. It was the duty of this -minister to seat himself on the ground at the foot of the lofty couch -on which the king lay, and from which the sovereign flung refuse bits -to his “friend.” If the latter ate too voraciously, his meat was -snatched from him, and he was beaten with rods till he had hardly -strength left to thank his majesty for the entertainment. Of course, if -he ate too slowly, he was subject to similar castigation. The moral, -perhaps, is, that “fast” or “slow,” it is safer not to be “friends” -with the king--of the Parthians. - -But let us turn from the ancient records of how the monarchs of old -deported themselves at their solemn boards, and contemplate a few brief -table traits in connexion with the sovereigns of more modern times. - -Clovis was a Christian king, but his behaviour at dinner was not always -so exemplary as might have been desired. But the Chesterfields of his -time were not exacting, and they probably thought Clovis a gentleman -when, on Bishop (St. Gerome) taking leave of him after dinner, the -monarch pulled out a hair and placed it in the bishop’s palm; the civil -ceremony was imitated by the courtiers, and the prelate left the rude -palace with more hairs on his hand than he had on his head. - -But dismissing the idea of running regularly through the “Tables of -the Sovereigns of Europe,” and elsewhere, I will simply relate such -incidents as are exemplary of royal table life, without pausing to be -very nice with regard to chronological order. Thus it occurs to me that -Russia, in modern times, exhibits as much barbarism as the court of -Clovis, where Christianity and civilization were, as yet, hardly known. - -When Peter the Great and his consort dined together, they were waited -on by a page and the empress’s favourite chambermaid. Even at larger -dinners, he bore uneasily the presence and service of what he called -listening lacqueys. His taste was not an imperial one. He loved, and -most frequently ordered, for his own especial enjoyment, a soup with -four cabbages in it; gruel; pig, with sour cream for sauce; cold roast -meat, with pickled cucumbers or salad; lemons and lampreys; salt meat, -ham, and Limburgh cheese. Previously to addressing himself to the -“consummation” of this supply, he took a glass of aniseed water. At his -repast he quaffed quass, a sort of beer, which would have disgusted -an Egyptian; and he finished with Hungarian or French wine. All this -was the repast of a man who seemed, like the nation of which he was -the head, in a transition state, between barbarism and civilization; -beginning dinner with cabbage water, and closing the banquet with -goblets of Burgundy. - -Peter and his consort had stranger tastes than these. This illustrious -pair once arrived at Stuthof, in Germany, where they claimed not only -the hospitality of the table, but a refuge for the night. The owner -of the country-house at which they sought to be guests was a Herr -Schoppenhauer, who readily agreed to give up to them a small bed-room, -the selection of which had been made by the emperor himself. It was a -room without stove or fire-place, had a brick floor, the walls were -bare; and the season being that of rigorous winter, a difficulty arose -as to warming this chamber. The host soon solved the difficulty. -Several casks of brandy were emptied on the floor, the furniture being -first removed, and the spirit was then set fire to. The czar screamed -with delight as he saw the sea of flames, and smelt the odour of the -Cognac. The fire was no sooner extinguished than the bed was replaced, -and Peter and Catherine straightway betook themselves to their repose, -and not only slept profoundly all night in this gloomy bower, amid the -fumes and steam of burnt brandy, but rose in the morning thoroughly -refreshed and delighted with their couch, and the delicate vapours -which had curtained their repose. - -The emperor was pleased, because when an emergency had presented -itself, provision to meet it was there at hand. Napoleon loved to be -so served at his tables when in the field. He was irregular in the -hours of his repasts, and he ate rapidly and not over delicately. The -absolute will which he applied to most things, was exercised also -in matters appertaining to the appetite. As soon as a sensation of -hunger was experienced, it must be appeased; and his table service was -so arranged that, in any place and at any hour, he had but to give -expression to his will, and the slaves of his word promptly set before -him roast fowls, cutlets, and smoking coffee. He dined off mutton -before risking the battle at Leipsic; and it is said that he lost the -day because he was suffering so severely from indigestion, that he was -unable to arrange, with sufficient coolness, the mental calculations -which he was accustomed to make as helps to victory. - -As Napoleon, the genius of war, was served in the field, Louis XV., -the incarnation of selfishness and vice, was served in his mistress’s -bower. That bower, built at Choisy for Pompadour, cost millions; but -it was one of the wonders of the world. For the royal entertainments, -there were invented those little tables, called “servants” or -“waiters;” they were mechanical contrivances, that immortalized the -artist Loriot. At Choisy, every guest had one of these tables to -himself. No servant stood by to listen, rather than lend aid. Whatever -the guest desired to have, he had but to write his wish on paper, and -touch a spring, when the table sunk through the flooring at his feet, -and speedily re-appeared, laden with fruits, with pastry, or with -wine, according to the order given. Nothing had been seen like this -enchantment in France before; and nothing like it, it is hoped, will -ever be seen there or elsewhere again. The guests thought themselves -little gods, and were not a jot more reasonable than Augustus and his -companions, who sat down to dinner attired as deities. When kings ape -the majesty of gods, it is time for the people to shake the majesty of -kings. - -Perhaps Louis XV. never looked so little like a king as when he dined -or supped in public,--a peculiar manifestation of his kingly character. -The Parisians and their wives used to hurry down to Versailles on a -Sunday, to behold the feeding of the beast which it cost them so much -to keep. On these occasions he always had boiled eggs before him. He -was uncommonly dexterous in decapitating the shell by a single blow -from his fork; and this feat he performed weekly at his own table, for -the sake of the admiration which it excited in the Cockney beholders. -But an egg broken by the king, or Damiens broken alive upon the wheel, -and torn asunder by wild horses,--each was a sight gazed upon, even by -the youthful fair, with a sort of admiration for the executioner! - -The glory of the epicureanism of Louis XV. was his “magic table,” -and the select worthless people especially invited to dine with him -thereat. In 1780 the Countess of Oberkirch saw this table, even then -a relic and wreck of the past. She and a gay party of great people, -who yet hoped that God had created the world only for the comfort of -those whom He had honoured by allowing them to be born “noble,” paid -a visit “to the apartments of the late king” in the Tuileries. There, -among other things, she saw the celebrated magic table, the springs -of which, she says, “had become rusty from disuse.” The good lady, -who had not the slightest intention in the world to be satirical, -thus describes the wondrous article, at the making of which Pompadour -had presided:--“It was placed in the centre of a room, where none -were allowed to enter but the invited guests of Louis XV. It would -accommodate thirty persons. In the centre was a cylinder of gilt -copper, which could be pressed down by springs, and would return with -its top, which was surrounded by a band, covered with dishes. Around -were placed four dumb waiters, on which would be found everything that -was necessary.” In 1789 the Countess says,--“This table no longer -exists, having been long since destroyed, with everything that could -recall the last sad years of a monarch, who would have been good if he -had not been perverted by evil counsels.” - -After all, the gastronomic greatness of Louis XV. was small compared -with that of his predecessor, Louis XIV. The “state” of the latter was, -in all things, more “cumbersome.” To be helpless was to be dignified; -and to do nothing for himself, and to think of nothing _but_ himself, -was the sole life-business of this very illustrious king. A dozen men -dressed him; there was one for every limb that had to be covered. Poor -wretch! His breakfast was as lumbering a matter as his _toilette_; and -he tasted nothing till it had passed through the hands of half-a-dozen -dukes. It took even three noblemen, ending with a prince of the -blood, to present him a napkin with which to wipe his lips, before he -addressed himself to the more serious business of the day. - -Louis XIV. could not be properly got to the dinner-table, entertained -there, and removed, without a still more fussy world of ceremony, -and that of a very Chinese or Ko Tou character. The ushers solemnly -summoned the guard when the cloth was to be laid, and a detachment of -men under arms were at once spectators and guardians at the dressing -of the table. They stood by, exceedingly edified, no doubt, while -the appointed officers touched the royal napkin, spoon, plate, knife, -fork, and tooth-picks, with a piece of bread, which they subsequently -swallowed. This was the “trial” against poisoning. The dishes in the -kitchen were tried in the same way, and were then carried to table -escorted by a file of men with drawn swords. As the dishes were placed -on the table, the loyal officials bowed as though some saintly relics -were on the platter! - -If there was ceremony at the coming in of the meat, how much more was -there at the coming in of him who was about to eat it! Unhappy wretch! -what splendid misery enveloped his mutton-chop! He was looked upon as -very august, but decidedly helpless. Did he wish to wipe his fingers; -three dukes and a prince only could present him with a _damp_ napkin; -but a dry one might be offered him at dinner, without insult, by a -simple valet. Philosophical distinction! Changing his plate required as -much attendant ceremony as would go to the whole crowning of a modern -constitutional king; and when he asked for drink, there was thunder -in heaven, or something like it. The cup-bearer solemnly shouted the -king’s desire to the buffet; and the buffeteers presented goblets -and flasks to the cup-bearer, who carried them to the thirsty but -necessarily patient monarch; and, when he finally received the draught -into his extended throat, all loyal men present seemed the better for -the sight. - -But Louis XIV. was so well-used to this, and much more ceremony than I -have space to detail, that it interfered in nowise with the comfortable -indulgence of his appetite. He was a very gifted eater. The rough old -Duchess of Orleans declares in her Memoirs, that she “often saw him eat -four platesful of different soups, a whole pheasant, a partridge, a -platefull of salad, mutton hashed with garlick, two good-sized slices -of ham, a dish of pastry, and afterwards fruit and sweetmeats!” At the -end of such a repast as this, this “most Christian” king (very much -so, indeed!) must have been in something of the condition of the young -gentleman who went out to dine, and who, after taking enough for three -boys of his size, and being invited to take more, answered that he -thought he could, if they would allow him to stand! - -The Duchess of Orleans, however, is by no means astonished at the -Baal-like ability of the king. Of her own performances in that way -she says, “I am not good at lying in bed; as soon as I awake, I must -get up. I seldom breakfast, and then only on bread and butter. I take -neither chocolate, nor coffee, nor tea, not being able to endure those -foreign drugs. I am German in all my habits, and like nothing in eating -or drinking which is not conformable to our old customs. I eat no -soup but such as I can take with milk, wine, or beer. I cannot bear -broth; whenever I eat anything of which it forms a part, I fall sick -instantly, my body swells, and I am tormented with colics. When I take -broth alone, I am compelled to vomit even to blood, and nothing can -restore the tone of my stomach but--_ham and sausages_!” Poor lady! she -reminds me of the converted cannibal Carib, who was once sick, and who -being asked by a missionary what he could eat, answered sentimentally, -that he thought he could pick a bone or two of a very delicate hand of -a young child! - -At a later period even than that of the Duchess of Orleans above -mentioned, the German taste could hardly be said to have improved. For -instances of this, I need only refer to the Memoirs of the Margravine -of Bareuth. This lady was the daughter of that Frederic William of -Prussia, whose portrait is graphically drawn also by his own son, and -with additional light and shade by Voltaire. The Princess Frederica -subsequently married the Prince of Bareuth--a _mésalliance_ which did -not displease her easy parents;--they were not as proudly vexed at it -as Isaac and Rachel were at the marriage of their son Esau with the -daughter of Beeri the Hittite, which certainly sounds as if Esau’s -father-in-law had been a pugilistic publican;--the Princess Frederica, -I say, paints a portrait of her father in very broad style. He used to -compel her and his other children to come to his room every morning at -nine o’clock, whence they were never allowed to depart till nine in -the evening, “pour quelque raison que ce fût.” The time was spent by -the affectionate sovereign in swearing at them, and he added injury -to insult by half-famishing them. He begrudged them even a wretched -soup made of bare bones and salt. Occasionally, they were kept fasting -the whole day; or, if he graciously allowed them a meal at his own -table, the royal beast would spit into the dishes from which he had -helped himself, in order to prevent their touching them. At other -times he forced them to swallow compositions of the most disgusting -description--“ce qui nous obligeait quelquefois de rendre, en sa -présence, tout ce que nous avions dans le corps!” He would then throw -the plates at their heads; and, as his children rushed by him to escape -his fury, the paternal brute, whom it is too much flattery to himself, -and too much injustice to the brute creation so to name, would strike -fiercely at them with his crutch, and was eminently disappointed when -he failed to crack their little, hard, royal, but very dirty skulls. -It is known that this madman would have slain his own son, “the rascal -Fritz,” as he, “the great Frederic,” as the world afterwards was used -to call him; and little doubt can exist that the great Frederic owed -most of his great vices, and none of his great qualities, to the -education which he received at the knees of his infamous sire. - -The history of the German courts abounds in traits connected with the -table, but I am compelled to go little beyond the announcement of such -a fact. One or two more, however, I may be permitted to notice before -finally leaving this section of my multifaced subject. - -Ernest the “Iron” was, perhaps, the least luxurious of his race. He -married Cymburga of Poland, the lady who brought into the Austrian -family the thick lips, which to this day form a characteristic feature -in the imperial physiognomy. Cymburga cracked her nuts with her -fingers; and when she trained her fruit-trees, she hammered the nails -into the wall with her clenched knuckles! Their table was at once -copious and simple. Their son Frederic had less strength both of body -and judgment. At near fourscore years of age he suffered amputation of -the leg, in order to get rid of a cancerous affection. He was “doing -well” after the operation, when he resolved upon dining on melons. He -was told that such a diet would be fatal to him, as it had already been -to one Austrian archduke of his house. Frederic reflected that he would -probably die at all events, and that he had already reigned longer than -any emperor since the days of Augustus, namely, fifty-three years. “I -_will_ have melons,” said he, “betide what may!” He ate unsparingly, -and death followed close upon the banquet. - -Frederic would neither drink wine himself, nor allow his consort to do -so, although physicians declared that, without it, she was not likely -to achieve the honours of maternity. She did abstain, and despite what -the oracular doctors had asserted, she became the mother of Maximilian, -a prince who drank wine enough to compensate for the abstinence of -both his parents. His second wife, Bianca of Milan, whom Maximilian -the “Moneyless” married for her dowry, was, like the lady in Young’s -Satires, by no means afraid to call things by their very broadest -names; and she died of an indigestion, brought on by eating too -voraciously of snails! They were of the large and lively sort, still -reared for the market in the field-preserves near Ulm. If my readers -should feel sick at the thought, let them remember their juvenile days, -and “periwinkles,” and be gentle in their strictures. Leopold the -“Angel,” the second son of the Emperor Ferdinand, surpassed even his -father in abstinence. He reared the most odoriferous of plants, but -inflicted on himself the mortification of never going near enough to -scent them; and, poor man! he thought that thereby he was adding a step -to a ladder of good works, by which he hoped to scale heaven! - -The grandson of Ferdinand, Joseph I., was a somewhat free liver, and -his intemperate diet was against him when he caught the small-pox. But -the medical men were fiercer foes than his way of life; for when the -eruption was at its worst, they hermetically closed his apartment, kept -up a blazing fire in it, gave him strong drinks, swathed him in twenty -yards of English scarlet broadcloth, and then published, on his dying, -that his majesty’s decease was contrary to all the rules of art. His -brother and successor, Charles, did for himself what the doctors did -for Joseph. In 1740 he had the gout, and _would_ go out hunting in the -wet. He was subsequently seized with what would now be called incipient -cholera, and he _would_ eat--not melons, like some of his obstinate and -imperial predecessors, but that delicate dish for an invalid, mushrooms -stewed in oil! He ate voraciously, and the next day symptoms ensued -which, he was informed, heralded death. Charles, like Louis Philippe, -would not believe his own medical advisers; and there was some reason -in this, for they stood at his bed-side, disputing as to whether -mushrooms were a digestible diet or the contrary. The emperor dismissed -them from his presence, ordered his favourite mushrooms, ate the -forbidden “fruit” with intense gastronomic delight, and died in peace. - -The table of the great Frederic of Prussia was regulated by himself. -There were always from nine to a dozen dishes, and these were brought -in one at a time. The king carved the solitary dish, and helped the -company. One singular circumstance connected with this table was, -that each dish was cooked by a different cook, who had a kitchen to -himself! There was much consequent expense, with little magnificence. -Frederic ate and drank, too, like a boon companion. His last work, -before retiring to bed, was to receive from his chief cook the bill -of fare for the next day; the price of each dish, and of its separate -ingredients, was marked in the margin. The monarch looked it cautiously -through, generally made out an improved edition, cursed all cooks -as common thieves, and then flung down the money for the next day’s -expenses. - -The late King of Prussia was a sensible man with respect to his table -arrangements. On gala days, and when it concerned the honour of Prussia -that the royal hospitality should assume an appearance of splendour, -his table was as glittering and gastronomic as goldsmiths and cooks -could make it. But in the routine of private and unofficial life, it -was simply that of an opulent merchant, something, perhaps, like that -of Sir Balaam after he had grown rich. Even then he partook only of -the least savoury dishes, and it was seldom, indeed, that he exceeded -a third glass of wine. His example enforced moderation, but it did not -mar enjoyment, for he loved every man around him to be merry and wise. - -His own wisdom he manifested by a characteristic trait in 1809. The -royal family had returned to Berlin for the first time since the war -had broken out in 1806. The court marshal, deeming that the piping -times of peace were going to endure for ever, waited on Frederic -William, and asked what amount of champagne he should order for -the royal cellars. “None,” replied the king; “I will drink neither -champagne nor any other wine, until all my subjects--even the very -poorest--can afford to drink beer again.” The incident was made -public, and the king’s poor neighbours were especially delighted. Many -of them testified their gratitude by sending from their gardens or -little farms various articles for his table. The king ate thereof with -pleasure, and did _not_ forget the givers. - -I have spoken of his moderation, but here is an additional trait from -his table worth mentioning. When he came to the crown, the grand -marshal proposed a more extended list of viands for the royal table. -“Marshal,” said the king in reply, “I do not feel that my stomach has -become more capacious since I became king. We will let well alone, and -dine to-day even as we have done heretofore.” - -In another page I have spoken of Bishop Eglert supping with the king. -Such a guest was not an unfrequent one at the royal dining-table. On -one occasion the bishop had preached before the court in the morning -from Luke xiv. 8-11: “When thou art bidden of any man to a wedding, sit -not down in the highest room, lest a more honourable man than thou be -bidden of him; and he that bade thee and him come and say unto thee, -Give this man place, and thou begin with shame to take the lower room,” -&c. &c. - -The bishop profited by the opportunity to expatiate on the virtues of -diffidence and humility, insisting on their observance as necessary for -the preservation of our happiness. Now, many dignified officials were -present at the banquet in question, and the bishop, who had entered the -saloon last, (which does not say much for the courtesy of those who -preceded him,) meekly took his place at the lower end of the table. -There the king’s scrutinizing eye fell upon him; and “Eglert,” said -Frederic William, “I see you are self-applying the text from which you -preached to us to-day. But, if I remember rightly, it is also written, -‘Friend, go higher.’ Come, then, take this chair that is near to me!” -and the simple but highly embarrassed prelate walked blushingly to the -station appointed him, and all in his vicinity began to recognise a man -whom the king himself delighted to honour. - -This anecdote reminds me, albeit it be “rue with a difference,” of -one told of the second of the seven Dukes of Guise, Duke Francis. -This celebrated individual was, during one part of his bloody career, -engaged in the service of the Pope, to fight the battles of the latter -against the King of Naples. He was not successful, and his holiness -showered down upon him mordant epigrams and invitations to dinner. -He had accepted one of the latter, and repaired to the sacro-regal -board, after a day in the course of which he had been engaged serving -as acolyte in the Papal chapel, and holding up the trains of very -obese cardinals. In the banqueting-hall of the descendant of the poor -fisherman, he meekly took the lowest seat. He had scarcely done so, -than a French lieutenant endeavoured to thrust in below him. “How now, -friend!” said the haughty enough Guise; “why pushest thou so rudely to -come where there is no room for thee?” “Marry!” said the soldier, “for -this reason, that it might not be said that the representative of a -king of France had taken the last place at a priest’s table!” It was a -bold piece of table-talk to so powerful a man as Guise, who recovered, -and added to his reputation when he subsequently regained, Calais from -the English. Previously to this last feat, when the occupation of -Calais formed the subject of conversation at social boards, there arose -the proverbial expression applied to the bravest of untried men, and -honourable to the reputation of our own ancestors,--“_He_ is not the -sort of man to drive the English out of France!” The proverb died out -of French society from the day when Guise drove old Lord Wentworth out -of Calais, and cheated his duchess out of the silks which he found -therein, and in which he attired the courtesans whom he invited to his -ducal but _not_ dignified table. - -It may fairly be asserted that kings may wear as graceful an aspect as -guests at others’ tables, as they do when enacting the host at their -own. The Prince Regent, dining off the mutton which he had helped to -cook at Colonel Hanger’s, is indeed no very edifying spectacle. I -will introduce my readers to a royal guest of what Hamlet would call -“another kidney.” - -When the Prussian general Koeckeritz had completed his fiftieth year -of service in 1809, he was residing in modest apartments, becoming -his celibate condition, near the Neustadt Gate at Potsdam. On the -dawn of the day of his martial jubilee, he was harmoniously greeted -by the bands of the garrison; but the hautboys did not discourse such -sweet music as was conveyed to him in a letter from the king, full of -expressions of gratitude for services rendered by him during a long -half century to the crown. At a grand review held in honour of the day, -the king embraced him in presence of the army, giving in his person the -accolade to every other faithful soldier who had served as long; and -when this had been done, Frederic William not only declared he would -escort the old warrior to his plainly furnished lodgings, but requested -to be invited to the _déjeuner à la fourchette_, which he assumed must -then be wanting. Koeckeritz had the pride of Caleb Balderstone, and he -turned pale at the idea of exposing his domestic economy to the eyes -of a king and court. He grew eloquent in excuses, protested that he -was unworthy of the honour designed for him, and piteously muttered -an apologetical phrase about “old bachelors.” “Then why are you a -bachelor?” asked the monarch: “I have often counselled you to marry, -and this very day you shall be punished for your disobedience.” “Well,” -said the general, with a sigh, denoting the resignation of despair, -“if it must be so, I trust your majesty will allow me a few hours in -order to make fitting preparation.” The spirit that possessed Caleb -Balderstone suggested this petition. “Not five minutes!” exclaimed the -sovereign; “you surely have a crust of bread and a glass of wine to -give to us who are your comrades, and we desire no more! Come along, -gentlemen!” - -Of course, no further resistance was to be thought of, and the gay and -brilliant escort led the grave Koeckeritz along, looking very much like -a criminal who was about to be hanged with riotous solemnity at his own -gates. - -But, when he reached those gates, his surprise was extreme. The -threshold was covered with flowers, the little hall was lined with -the royal servants in their state suits, and the space in front of -the house was partly occupied by a score of “trumpets,” who no sooner -perceived the approach of the hero of the day than they received him, -as our theatrical orchestras do stage kings, with a “flourish.” It -is hardly necessary to add, that when the old general conducted his -guests within, he found there such a banquet as Aladdin furnished his -widowed mother with by means of the lamp. Everything was there, whether -in or out of season; and the rare-looking flasks promised pleasure -less equivocal than that held out by a Calais Boniface upon his cards, -whereon his English visitors were told, that “the wine shall leave you -nothing to hope for!” - -“Oh! oh!” exclaimed the king, “here is bachelor’s fare with a -vengeance! Let us be seated, and show that our appetites can appreciate -what our comrade Koeckeritz has provided for them.” Monarch and -servant, honouring and honoured, sat side by side; and so gay and so -prolonged was the festival, that the king surprised all those who knew -how strictly he lived by rule, by ordering the dinner at the palace to -be retarded for a couple of hours. At that banquet he entertained the -veteran, affecting to do so in return for the hospitality displayed -by the latter in the morning. The scene was not without its moving -incidents, for the king had contrived another surprise whereby to -gratify his old friend and servant. As the monarch led him by the hand -to the dining-room, there stood before him three of the surviving -friends of his youth who had fought with him in the Seven Years’ War, -and whom he had not seen for years. The king had got them together, -not without difficulty; the general joy that ensued was as unalloyed -as humanity could make it, and never did monarch sit at meat with -more right to feel pleased, than Frederic William on this day of -Koeckeritz’s jubilee. It was a day that Henri IV. of France would -have delighted in. That king is said never to have dined better than -one evening previous to the battle of Ivry, when he was sojourning -in a country-house under the name of a French officer. There were -no provisions there, but the solitary lady who was the chatelaine -intimated that there was a retired tradesman who lived near, who was -the possessor of a fine turkey, and who would contribute it towards -a dinner, if he were only invited to partake of it. “Is he a jolly -companion?” asked the supposed officer. The reply being affirmatively, -the citizen and turkey were invited together, and two merrier guests -never sat down with a lady to cut up a bird and crush a bottle. Henri -was in the most radiant of humours; and it was when he was at his -brightest, that the _bourgeois_ avowed that he had known him from the -beginning, and that after dining with a king of France, he trusted -that the monarch would not object to grant him letters of nobility. -Henri laughed, which was as good as consenting, and asked what arms his -countship would assume? “I will emblazon the turkey that founded my -good fortune,” answered the aspirant for nobility. “Ventre Saint-Gris!” -exclaimed the king, laughing more immoderately, “then you shall be -a gentleman, and bear your turkey ’en pal’ on a shield!” The happy -citizen purchased a territorial manor near Alençon, and le Comte Morel -d’Inde was _not_ a _conte pour rire_. - -The Russian Empress Catherine used to affect the good-fellowship that -was natural to the first of the Bourbon kings of France. When she dined -with the highly honoured officers of the regiment of which she was -colonel, she used to hand to each a glass of spirits before the banquet -commenced. At her own table the number of guests was usually select, -generally under a dozen. The lord of the bed-chamber sat opposite to -her, her own seat being at the centre of one of the sides, carved one -of the dishes, and presented it to her. She took once of what was so -offered, but afterwards dispensed with such service. In her days, many -of the Russian nobility kept open tables. Any one who had been duly -introduced, and knew not where to dine, had only to call at a house -where he was known, and to leave word that he intended to dine there -in the afternoon. He was sure to be welcomed. At the present time, the -Russians are more civilized and less hospitable. - -Jermann describes the imperial kitchen at St. Petersburg as good, -delicate, and “meagre,”--the latter being a consequence of the -continual eating that is going on, and the necessity which follows of -providing what is light of digestion. The imperial household tables in -the days of Paul were divided into “stations,” an arrangement which -took its rise from a singular incident. The late empress, like our own -Queen Adelaide, was given to inspect the “domestic accounts,” and she -was puzzled by finding among them “a bottle of rum” daily charged to -the Naslednik, or heir apparent! Her imperial Majesty turned over the -old “expenses” of the household, to discover at what period her son had -commenced this reprobate course of daily rum-drinking; and found, if -not to her horror, at least to the increase of her perplexity, that it -dated from the very day of his birth. The “bottle of rum” began with -the baby, accompanied the boy, and continued to be charged to the man. -He was charged as drinking upwards of thirty dozen of fine old Jamaica -yearly! The imperial mother was anxious to discover if any other of the -Czarovitch babies had exhibited the same alcoholic precocity; and it -appears that they were all alike; daily, for upwards of a century back, -they stood credited in the household books for that terrible “bottle -of rum.” The empress continued her researches with the zeal of an -antiquary, and her labours were not unrewarded. She at last reached the -original entry. Like all succeeding ones, it was to the effect of “a -bottle of rum for the Naslednik;” but a sort of editorial note on the -margin of the same page intimated the wherefore: “On account of violent -toothache, a teaspoonful with sugar to be given, by order of the -physician of the imperial court.” The teaspoonful for one day had been -charged as a bottle, and the entry once made, it was kept on the books -to the profit of the unrighteous steward, until discovery checked the -fraud,--a fraud, more gigantically amusing than that of the illiterate -coachman, who set down in his harness-room book, “Two penn’orth of -whipcord, 6_d._” The empress showed the venerable delinquency to her -husband, Paul; and _he_, calculating what the temporary toothache of -the imperial baby Alexander had cost him, was affrighted at the outlay, -and declared that he would revolutionise the kitchen department, and -put himself out to board. The threat was not idly made, and it was soon -seriously realized. A gastronomic contractor was found who farmed the -whole palace, and did his spiriting admirably. He divided the imperial -household into “stations.” The first was the monarch’s especial table, -for the supply of which he charged the emperor and empress fifty -roubles each daily; the table of the archdukes and archduchesses was -supplied at half that price; the guests of that table, of whatever -rank, were served at the same cost. The ladies and gentlemen of the -household had a “station,” which was exceedingly well provisioned, at -twenty roubles each. The graduated sliding scale continued to descend -in proportion to the _status_ of the feeders. The upper servants had -superior stomachs, which were accounted of as being implacable at -less than fifteen roubles each. Servants in livery, with finer lace -but coarser digestions, dieted daily at five roubles each; and the -grooms and scullions were taken altogether at three roubles a head. “A -wonderful change,” says Jermann, “ensued in the whole winter palace. -The emperor declared he had never dined so well before. The court, -tempted by the more numerous courses, sat far longer at table. The -maids of honour got fresh bloom upon their cheeks, and the chamberlains -and equerries rounder faces; and most flourishing of all was the state -of the household expenses, although these diminished by one-half. In -short, every one, save cook and butler, was content; and all this was -the result of ‘a bottle of rum,’ from which the Emperor Alexander, when -heir to the crown, had been ordered by the physician to take a spoonful -for the toothache.” - -Herr Jermann, who was manager of the imperial company of German actors -in St. Petersburg, frequently dined at the table of the “second -station,” or officials’ table. There were six dishes and a capital -dessert. He describes the “drinkables” as consisting of one bottle of -red and one of white wine, two bottles of beer, one of kislitschi, -and quass _ad libitum_. The dinner he speaks lightly of, as inferior -on the point of cookery to that of the best restaurants in the -capital. The wine was a light Burgundy; the beer heavy and Russian. -The kislitschi must have been a powerful crusher of the appetite, it -being a sour-sweet drink, prepared from honey, water, lemon-juice, and -a decoction of herbs. Quass is a plain, cheap beverage, the better -sort of which is extracted from malt, while an inferior sort is an -extract of bread-crusts. It is the national drink of the lower orders. -A stranger finds it at first detestable; but he not only soon becomes -reconciled to it, but generally prefers it to any other beverage, -especially in the brief scorching summer of St. Petersburg, when the -cooling properties of quass are its great recommendation. - -To talk of the fierceness of a Russian summer seems paradoxical, but it -is simple truth; and probably the court of Naples itself, throughout -its long season of heat, does not consume so much ice as their -imperial Muscovite majesties do in the course of their slow-to-come, -quick-to-go, and sharp-while-it-lasts summer. Nay, the whole capital -eats ice at this season. Ice is thought such a “necessary” of life, -that the first question in taking a house is, probably, touching the -quality and capability of the ice-cellar, wherein they pack away as -much of the Neva as they can in solid blocks. They eat it and drink -it, surround their larders with it, and mix it with the water, beer, -quass--in short, with whatever they drink. Nay, more, when there is -a superabundance of the material, they place it under their beds and -on their stoves to cool their apartments. So tremendous is the dust -and heat of a Russian summer, that, for inconvenience, it is only -the opposite extreme of annoyance to that experienced in the wintry -visitations of frost. The ice-tubs of the popular vendors in the -streets are enveloped and covered with wet cloths, to protect them -from the heat of the sun. I need not say that this is _not_ the season -at which a visitor should resort to the capital. St. Petersburg in -January, and Naples in July, are the respective times and places to be -observed by those who can bear the consequences. - -I do not know what may be the case with regard to the fruit eaten at -the imperial table; but, generally speaking, fruit is never eaten by a -Russian until it has been blest by a priest. Jermann, alluding to this -custom, praises it on sanitary grounds, for, he says, the fruit has no -chance of earning a benediction unless it be ripe; but if it then be -taken to church, the blessing is granted with much attendant solemnity. - -I do not believe that the czars were ever accustomed to dine in such -state as the kaisers. The old emperors of Germany, on state occasions, -were waited on at dinner by the two happy feudatory princes of the -empire. On one of these occasions, we are told that old General -Dalzell, the terrible enemy of the Scottish Covenanters, was invited -to dine with the kaiser, and the prince-waiter nearest to him in -attendance was no less a personage than the Prince of Modena, head of -the house of Este. Some years afterwards, the Duke of York (James II.) -invited Dalzell to dine with himself and Mary of Modena. That proud -lady, however, made some show of reluctance to sit down _en famille_ -with the old general; but the latter lowered her pride by telling her, -that he was not unacquainted with the greatness of the princes of -Modena, and that the last time he had sat at table with the Emperor of -Germany, a prince of that house was standing in attendance behind the -emperor’s chair. - -There were other good points about Dalzell’s character; in proof of -which may be cited his dining with Dundas, an old Covenanting Scotch -laird, who would _not_ forego his long prayers before dinner, and who -especially prayed that Dalzell and his royal master might have their -hard hearts softened towards the Covenanting children of the Lord. When -the prayer was ended, and dinner about to begin, Dalzell complimented -his host on his courage in fearing man less than God. The anecdote -reminds me of one in connexion with a dinner given by a gentleman of -one of our “Protestant denominations,” in honour of the presence of -a new minister and his bride. Prayer preceded the repast, and it was -given by the host, who, introducing therein the welcomed strangers, -said, “We thank thee, O Lord, that thou hast conducted hither in safety -thy servants, our new minister and his wife. It is thou, O Lord, who -preservest both man and beast!” This was more like a kick than a -compliment; but it only called up a smile on the pretty features of the -minister’s lady. - -Let us now cross the Atlantic, with Cortez and his companions, and -contemplate Montezuma in his household and at his table. Barbarian -as the Spanish invaders accounted him to be, he was superior in many -respects to most of his royal contemporaries in Europe. He was not less -magnificent than Solomon, and he was far more cleanly than Louis XIV. - -On the terraced roof of his palace, thirty knights could tilt at -each other, without complaining of want of space. His armouries were -filled with weapons almost as destructive as any to be found in the -arsenals of civilized Christian kings. His granaries were furnished -with provisions paid by tributaries; three hundred servants tended the -beautiful birds of his aviaries; his menageries were the wonder and -terror of beholders; and his dwarfs were more hideous, and his ladies -more dazzling, than potentate had ever before looked upon with contempt -or admiration. His palace within and without was a marvel of Aztec art. -It was surrounded by gardens, glad with fountains and gay flowers. One -thousand ladies shared the retirement of this splendid locality, with -a master more glittering than anything by which he was environed,--who -changed his apparel four times daily, never putting on again a garment -he had once worn, and who, eating off and drinking from gold, (except -on state occasions, when his table was covered with services of -Cholulan porcelain,) never used a second time the vessels which had -once ministered to the indulgence of his appetite. - -It is said eulogistically of his cooks, that they had thirty different -ways of preparing meat,--a poor boast, perhaps, compared with that of -the Parisian _chefs_, who have six hundred and eighty-five ways to -dress eggs! Three hundred dishes were daily placed before the monarch; -and such as were required to be kept hot at table were in heated -earthenware stands made for the purpose. And it is even asserted, that -this autocrat occasionally killed time before dinner by watching the -cooking of his viands, a practice in which, according to Peter Pinder, -that honest old English king used to indulge, who dined off boiled -mutton at two, and to whom the funniest sight in the world was the -clown in a pantomime swallowing carrots. - -The ordinary dishes of Montezuma consisted of very dainty fare; -namely, domestic fowls, geese, partridges, quails, venison, Indian -hogs, pigeons, hares, rabbits, and other productions of his country, -including--it is alleged by some and denied by others--some very choice -dairy-fed baby, when this choice article happened to be in season! In -cold weather enormous torches, that flung forth not only light but -warmth and aromatic odours, lent additional splendour to the scene; -and to temper at once the glare and the heat, screens with deliciously -droll devices upon them, framed in gold, were placed before the -brilliant flame. - -The sovereign sat, like his links, also protected by a screen. He was -not as barbarous as the most Christian kings of France, who fed in -public; nor was he personally tended like them by awkward Ganymedes -of a middle age. Four Hebes stood by the low throne and table of -their master, and these poured water on his hands, and offered him -the napkin, white as driven snow, or as the cloth on which the four -hundred dishes stood waiting his attention. Women as fair presented him -with bread; but even these fair ministers retired a few steps, when -his sacred majesty addressed himself to the common process of eating. -Then a number of ancient but sprightly nobles took their place. With -these Montezuma conversed; and, when he was particularly pleased with a -sage observation or a sprightly remark, a plate of pudding bestowed by -the royal hand made one individual happy, and all his fellows bitterly -jealous. The pudding, or whatever the dish might be, was eaten in -silent reverence; and while an Aztec emperor was at meat, no one in the -palace dared, at peril of his life, speak above his breath. Montezuma -is described as being but a moderate eater, but fond of fruits, and -indulging, with constraint upon his appetite, in certain drinks which -were of a stimulating quality, such as are found in countries where -civilization and luxury are at their highest. - -“One thing I forgot, and no wonder,” says Bernal Diaz, “to mention in -its place, and that is, during the time Montezuma was at dinner, two -very beautiful women were busily employed making small cakes, with eggs -and other things mixed therein. These were delicately white, and when -made, they presented them to him on plates covered with napkins. Also, -another kind of bread was brought to him on long leaves, and plates -of cakes resembling wafers. After he had dined, they presented to him -three little canes, highly ornamented, containing liquid amber, mixed -with a herb they call tobacco; and when he had sufficiently viewed -and heard the singers, dancers, and buffoons, he took a little of the -smoke of one of those canes, and then laid himself down to sleep. The -meal of the monarch ended, all his guards and attendants sat down to -dinner, and, as near as I could judge, about a thousand plates of those -eatables that I have mentioned, were laid before them, with vessels -of foaming chocolate, and fruit in immense quantities. For his women -and various inferior servants, his establishment was of a prodigious -expense, and we were astonished, amid such a profusion, at the vast -regularity that prevailed.” - -What a contrast with the meal of this splendid barbarian is that of -princes of the same complexion, but of different race, the Arab! We -may fittingly include among sovereigns those Arab princes whose word, -if it be not heeded far, is promptly obeyed within the little circle -of their rule. Skins on the ground serve for table-cloths; the dishes -are, in their contents, only the reflection of each other, and in the -centre of the array whole lambs or sheep lie boiled or roasted. The -chief and his followers dine in successive relays of company. Sometimes -the skin is spread before the door of the tent, whether in a street or -in the plain, and the passers-by, even to the beggars, invited with -a “Bismillah,” In God’s name, fall to; and having eaten, exclaim, -“Hamdallilah!” God be praised! and go their way. - -Not less may we include, in the roll of Majesty at Meat, those Pilgrim -Fathers who were the pioneers of civilization and liberty in America. -Scant indeed was the table of that “sovereign people,” until they found -security to sow seed, and reap the harvest in something like peace. The -first meal which they enjoyed, after long months of labour, disease, -and famine, was when they had constructed the little fort at Plymouth, -behind which they might eat in safety and thankfulness. “The captain,” -says Mr. Bartlett, in his “Pilgrim Fathers,” “had brought with him ‘a -very fat goose,’ and those on shore had ‘a fat crane, and a mallard,’ -and ‘a dried neat’s tongue.’ This fare was, no doubt, washed down -with good English beer and strong waters; and thus, notwithstanding -the gloom that hung over them, the day passed cheerfully and sociably -away.” Such was the first official dinner of the “majesty of the -people” beyond the Atlantic. - -And having got to the “majesty of the people,” I am reminded of a -“popular majesty,” the citizen king, Louis Philippe. He was a monarch -economically minded, and kept the most modest yet not worst furnished -of tables. His family often sate down before he arrived, detained as -he often was by state affairs. When all rose as he quietly entered the -dining-room, his stereotyped phrase was, “Que personne ne se dérange -pour moi,” and therewith ensued as little ceremony as when “William -Smith” and his household sate down to an uncrowned dinner at the little -inn at Newhaven. - -They who are curious to see how admirably Louis Philippe was -constituted for making a poor-law commissioner, or a parochial -relieving overseer, should peruse the graphic biography of the king -written by Alexander Dumas. Therein is a list, made out by the monarch, -of what he thought was sufficient for the table of the princes and -princesses; and Louis of Orleans condescends to name the number of -plates of soup, or cups of coffee, that he deemed sufficient for the -requirement and support of the younger branches of his house. It shows -that the soul of a crafty “gargottier” was in the body of the citizen -king. But we have not yet contemplated the appearance and behaviour of -our own sovereigns at table, out of respect for whom we now allot a -chapter, but a brief one, to themselves. - - - - -ENGLISH KINGS AT THEIR TABLES. - - -The utilitarians of history have declared that half our treasured -incidents of story are myths. Rufus was not slain by Sir Walter -Tyrrell; Richard III. was a marvellously proper man; and the young -princes were not smothered in the Tower. They have laid their hands on -our legends, as Augustus did his on the nose of the dead Alexander, -and with the same effect,--under the touch it crumbled into dust. The -infidels refuse even to have faith in that table trait of Alfred, which -showed him making cakes, or rather marring them, in the neatherd’s -cottage. Mr. Wilkie may have prettily painted the incident, but its -existence, anywhere but on canvas and in the poet’s brain, they -ruthlessly deny. I do not know but that they are right. - -We march into the bowels of more trustworthy ground, when we pass the -frontier of the Roman period. William the Norman we know had a huge -appetite for venison; and the Saxon chronicler says, that he loved the -“high deer” as if he had been their father, which is but an equivocal -compliment to his paternal affection. His table indulgences cost the -life of hundreds, and the ruin of tens of hundreds. It brought on -corpulency; his corpulency begot a poor joke in Philip of France; -and of this joke was born such wrath in the soul of William, that he -carried fire and sword into that kingdom, and was cut short in his -career, ere he had accomplished the full measure of his revenge. - -Rufus was as fat as his father, and as majestic both in his oaths -and his appetites. To every passion he yielded himself a slave; and -he feasted, like so many who would affect to be disgusted at his -dishonesty, without troubling himself as to who “suffered.” He never -paid a creditor whom he could cheat; and again, like many of the same -class, he was most affable at table; his drinking companions were on -an equality with him; and in such fellowship, over gross food and huge -goblets mantling to the brim, he cut unclean jokes on his own unclean -deeds, at which his servile and drunken hearers roared consumedly, and -swore he was a god. There was some grandeur in his ideas, however, -for he built Westminster Hall, as a vestibule to a palace, wherein he -intended to hold high revel such as the world had never seen; and a -vestibule it has now become, but to a palace wherein sits a different -sort of dignity to that dreamed of by the low-statured, fat, fierce, -and huge feeding Rufus. - -All the Norman kings were fearful objects at which to fling jokes; and -the appetite of Henry I. was ruined, and his sanguinary ire aroused, -by a derisive passage in a poem by Luke de Barré. The king made the -table shake as he declared that he would let wretched versifiers know -what they were to expect if they offended the King of England; and -Barré suffered the loss of his eyes. Henry ate and drank none the less -joyously for the dead. But _Beauclerc_ was a more refined _gastronome_ -than his brothers, as befitted his name; and though in many respects -his court was horribly licentious, yet when he went from one demesne -to another, to consume its revenues upon the spot, the feasting there -seems to have been attended by as much moderation as merriment. - -Stephen had more to do with fighting than feasting, and with keeping -castles rather than cooks; but he knew how to gain allies by the fine -science of giving dinners, and there was no more courteous host than -he. While the king and the barons kept high mirth, however, the people -were in the lowest misery. While the king gave political feasts, his -subjects were perishing of starvation by thousands. - -His successor, the Second Henry, was but a poor patron of cooks, as -was to be expected of a monarch who had continually to defend himself -against the rebellions, not only of subjects, but of his own children. -Of the latter, the only one who loved him was his natural son Geoffrey. -It is no wonder that this melancholy king was the first to do away with -the old custom of having a coronation dinner thrice every year, on -assembling the States at the three great festivals. He was ever in the -midst of affrays; and once he fell among a body of monks, who checked -their turbulence to complain to the king; their complaint being that -their abbot, the Bishop of Winchester, had cut off three dishes from -their table. “How many has he left you?” said the king. “Good heavens!” -said the monks, “he has only left us ten.” “Ten!” said the monarch; “I -am content with but three; and I hope your bishop will reduce you to a -level with your king.” They, of course, were highly disgusted at the -remark. - -Richard Cœur de Lion, that copper monarch, was too busy with mischief -to have leisure for much banqueting; but he loved one thing, and -that was venison, the poor stealers of which he punished by the most -horrible of mutilations. In his reign, an ox and a horse cost four -shillings each; a sow was to be bought for a shilling; a sheep with -fine wool, for tenpence, and with coarse wool, for sixpence; so that, -taking into account the difference in the valuation of money, people -who _had_ the money to purchase with, could procure mutton and pork -at a rate about a dozen times cheaper than the same articles can be -procured at now. The sovereign did not trouble himself about paying -anybody; and when he gave a banquet, the very last thing he thought of -was whether it were ever paid for or not. - -Richard had no virtue but courage; and John resembled his worthless -brother in every thing _but_ courage. He had the same love for venison; -and a joke at dinner upon a fat haunch, which he said had come from a -noble beast that had never heard mass, was looked upon by the clerical -gentlemen present as a reflection upon their corpulency. They never -forgot it; and it was, perhaps, partly a consequence of their retentive -memory, that the monks of Swineshead poisoned the dish of which the -king partook on the occasion of almost his last dinner. He certainly -never _enjoyed_ another. - -Henry III. was the first of our kings whose reign exceeded -half-a-century in duration. He was a moderate man, loved plain fare, -and cared more for masses than merriment. He was an easy, indolent -monarch, with troubles enough to have fired him to activity; but he -would have given half his realm for the privilege of daily dining in -peace and quietness, a boon seldom vouchsafed to him. His subjects must -have dined as ill as himself, if we may judge by the extraordinary -variation in the prices of articles of consumption during his reign. -Thus the price of wheat, for instance, varied from one shilling to -a pound a quarter. The royal statute upon ale rather displeased all -citizens of this period, for by it the price was fixed at a halfpenny -per gallon in cities, while in the country the same quantity might be -sold for a farthing. A gallon of ale for a halfpenny ought, however, to -have satisfied the most thirsty of drinkers. - -The frugal Edward I. very little patronised either eating or drinking, -beyond what nature required. He was a very moderate wine-drinker, -but he exceedingly offended those who were otherwise, by imposing a -duty of two shillings a tun on all wine imported, over and above the -old existing duty. The unlucky Edward II. was to the first Edward, -what Louis XVI. was to Louis XIV., the scape-goat for the crimes of a -predecessor and tyrant too powerful to be resisted. The banqueting-room -of this Edward, however, was, as is often the case with such princes, -oftener used than the council-room, and the favourites feasted with -their weak lord until rebellion marred the festivity. There never was a -merrier reign (despite public calamity) closed by so terrible a murder -as that of this king, whose last dinner would have almost disgusted a -dog. - -Edward III. was a gorgeous patroniser of the culinary art; the cooks -and his guests adored him; and Windsor Castle, which he built as a -fortress and a pleasaunce, is a monument of his power and his taste. -But his love for good cheer was imitated by his subjects to their ruin; -and king and parliament interfered to remedy by penalty, what might -have been obviated by good example. Servants were prohibited from -eating flesh, meat, or fish, above once a day. By another law, it was -ordained that no one should be allowed, either for dinner or supper, -above three dishes in each course, and not above two courses; and it is -likewise expressly declared that _soused_ meat is to count as one of -these dishes. And of these laws I will only observe, that if they were -obeyed, servants and citizens of the days of Edward III. were a very -different class of people from what they are at present. - -When it is stated of Richard II. that two thousand cooks and three -hundred servitors were employed in the royal kitchen, we think we -become acquainted with the gastronomic tastes of that unhappy king. But -as he was one of those whose virtues were his own, and his vices were -of others’ making, so this Sardanapalian array of cooks was kept up by -those who ruled from behind the throne, and finally left the king to -starve, despite his counting cooks by thousands. His chief _cuisinier_ -is known only by the initials C. S. S., under which he wrote a culinary -work in English, “On the Forme of Cury.” In this work, he speaks of -poor Richard, his royal master, as the “best and royallest viander of -all Christian kynges.” - -Henry IV. kept a princely but not a profuse table. He was the first -king in England whose statutes may be said to have acted as a check -on the freedom of after-dinner conversation upon religious matters; -for in his reign took place the first execution in England, on account -of opinions connected with matters of faith. The household expenses -of this monarch are set down at something less than £20,000 per annum -of the money of the time; and this sum, moderate enough, appears to -have been fairly applied to the purposes for which it was intended. A -porpoise was a fashionable dish in the time of Henry V., who first had -it at the royal table, and thus sanctioned its use at tables of lower -degree. Loyal folks in those days copied the example set them by their -sovereign, as they did in the later days of George III. boiled mutton -and caper sauce, when country gentlemen “dined like the king, sir, at -two o’clock.” But Henry V. was oppressed with debts, and, like many -men in similar positions, his banquets were all the more splendid, and -his prodigality was equal to his liabilities. So extravagant a monarch -bequeathed but a poor inheritance to Henry VI., who was occasionally -as hard put to it for a dinner as ever the Second Charles was. When -Edward IV. jumped into poor Henry’s seat, he found a host of angry -persons who disputed his power, and these he took care to conciliate -by the most powerful, nay irresistible means that were ever applied to -the solution of a difficulty, or the removal of an obstruction. He -simply invited them to dinner; and, certainly, up to that time England -had never seen a king who gave dinners on so extravagantly profuse a -scale. They were marked, however, by something of a barbaric splendour; -and the monarch, gay and glittering as he was, dazzling in dress, and -overwhelmingly exuberant of spirits, was more like William de la Marck -than any more knightly host. In short, Edward was but a coarse beast -at table. “In homine tam corpulento,” says the Croyland chronicler, -“tantis sodalitiis, vanitatibus, crapulis, luxuriis et cupiditatibus -dedito,”--a sort of testimonial to character which neither monarch nor -man could be justified in being proud of. The young Edward V. is the -“petit Dauphin” of English history, but with a less cruel destiny, for -he was at least not starved to death, amid dirt, darkness, and terror, -but mercifully, if roughly, murdered, and so saved from the long and -yet unexpiated assassination of the innocent and helpless Louis XVII. -His murderer sought to make people forget the heinousness of his crime, -by the double splendour of his coronation dinners. The ceremony and the -festival took place, not only in London, but in York; and Richard hoped -he had feasted both the northern and southern provinces into sentiments -of loyalty. A curious incident preceded the first dinner,--the -anointing of himself and consort at the coronation. There is nothing -singular in the fact, but there _is_ in the manner of it. Richard and -his queen stripped themselves naked to the waist, in order that the -unction might be more liberally poured over them,--and in Richard’s -own case, perhaps for another reason, that the great nobles who were -present might see that they were not about to sit down to dinner with a -sovereign who was as deformed in body as his enemies declared him to be. - -Almost all young readers of history take their first permanent idea -of Henry VII. from that gallant Richmond, in Shakspeare’s Tragedy, who -comes in like an avenging angel, at the beginning of the fifth act, -and has it all his own generous way, until he sticks “the bloody and -devouring bear,” and sends a note to Elizabeth to come and be married. -This Elizabeth, by the way, was the good mother of Henry VIII., and she -was the only woman for whom that capricious prince ever felt a spark of -pure affection. His love and respect for _her_ were permanent, and the -fact merits to be recorded. But to return to Henry VII., and to conduct -him to the dinner-table, where alone we have present business with him; -I do not know that I can find a better “trait” touching himself and his -times, than one connected with his royal visit to York. - -He was received in the city with more than ordinary ceremony, and -loudly-expressed delight at the sight of his “sweet-favoured” face; -“some casting out of obles and wafers, and some casting out of -comfits in great quantities, as it had been hailstones, for joy and -rejoicing of the king’s coming.” But I must pass over the outward -show--how Augustans, Franciscans, Carmelites, and Dominicans met him -at Micklegate, and how these, with priors, and friars, and canons of -hospitals, and priests, and knights, and noble, and gentle, and simple, -accompanied the monarch to the Minster, and thence to the archbishop’s -palace, where Henry resided during his stay in the northern capital. -The grandest banquet given to him during his sojourn, was in this -palace, on the eve of the festival of St. George: the great hall was -divided into a centre and two aisles. In each division there were two -tables, half-a-dozen in all. The king sat at the centre table, arrayed -in all the pomp and glory of a king;--George and garter, crown, and -England’s sceptre. One individual only was esteemed worthy of being -seated at the same table, namely, the Archbishop of York, who was -quite as powerful a man, in his way, as Henry Tudor himself. Knights -carved the joints, and earls waited upon prince and prelate. Lord -Scrope, of Bolton, _because_ he was a Knight of the Garter, served -the king with water; another member of chivalry handed the cup, and -the sovereign’s meat was especially carved for him by a Welsh cousin, -Sir David Owen. The distribution of the other tables exhibited a -judicious mixture of priest and layman. At the first table in the -centre of the hall (the cross-table at the top being occupied by -the king and the archbishop) sat two secular dignitaries, the Lords -Chancellor and Privy Seal, and with them, the Abbots of St. Mary and -Fountains, with the archbishop’s suffragans, other prelates, and the -royal chaplains; thus the chief members of the clergy were seated in -greatest numbers near the king. The second table was entirely occupied -by lay nobility, earls, barons, knights and esquires of the king’s -body. Of the two tables in the right aisle, the city clergy and the -Minster choir occupied one to themselves. At the upper end of the other -table were several knights of the garter, all sitting on one side, -“and beneath them a void space, and then other honest persons filled -that table.” We are glad to fall on the term “_other_ honest,” or we -might have been tempted to believe that a distinction was made between -honesty and nobility. The tables in the left aisle were occupied, one -by the municipal authorities and other citizen guests; the second -by the judges, “and beneath them _other_ honest persons,” again. At -the rear of the king’s table a stage was erected, on which stood the -royal officer of arms, who cried his “largesse” three times, in the -usual manner, and doubtless with something of the stentorian powers -made familiar to us by the late Mr. Toole, and the present loud and -lively Mr. Harker. “The surnape,” we are told, “was drawn by Sir -John Turberville, the knight-marshal; and after the dinner there was -a voide, when the king and his nobles put off their robes of state, -except such as were knights of the garter, who rode to even-song, -attired in the habit of their order;” and a very fitting close to a -feast,--and a good example is held forth therein to all who rise from -a festival without any more thought of being thankful for it, than -is implied by trying to find out the reflection of their nose in the -mahogany. - -The following table story, cited by Southey, furnishes another -illustration of social, and, indeed, of political, life about this -time:-- - -“Henry (then Richmond), on his march from Milford, lodged one night -with his friend David Llwyd, at Matha’farn. David had the reputation -of seeing into the future, and Richmond, whether in superstition or -compliment, privately inquired of him, what would be the issue of -his adventure. Such a question, he was told, was too important to be -immediately answered, but in the morning a reply should be made. The -wife of David saw that her husband was unusually grave during the -evening; and having learnt the cause, she said, ‘How can you have any -difficulty about your answer? Tell him he will succeed gloriously. If -he does, you will receive honours and rewards. But, if it fail, depend -upon it, he will never come here to reproach you.’” Hence, it is said, -a Welsh proverb, “A wife’s advice without asking it.” - -Henry VIII. loved to take a quiet dinner, occasionally, with his -chancellor, at Chelsea; and there he would walk in the garden, with -his arm round that neck which he afterwards flung beneath the axe -of the executioner. He was given to indulgences of all sorts, and -with respect to those of the appetite and palate, he was well served -by his incomparable clerk of the kitchen, honest and clever William -Thynne, who was not a _mere_ clerk of the kitchen, but a gentleman -and scholar to boot; loving poetry though he was no poet, and editing -Chaucer with as much zeal as that with which he regulated the accounts -of his kitchen clerkship. Henry ate not wisely, but too well; and this -huge feeding brought him at last to such a size, that he could not be -moved but by aid of “a machine.” In other words, I suppose, he could -not walk, and was compelled to submit to locomotion in a chair. Among -the sovereigns who assembled at the Congress of Vienna, and who were -as strangely there together as the half-dozen kings whom Candide met -at the _table d’hôte_ in Venice, was that monster of a man, the King -of Wurtemburg. This mountain of flesh dined daily at the imperial -table, where a semicircular piece was cut out of the mahogany, in order -that the stomach of the monarch might rest comfortably against the -table, when engaged in its appropriate work. He did not lack wit for -abounding in fatness, and to him, I believe, is properly attributed the -neat saying, when he saw Lord Castlereagh in simple civilian’s dress, -without a star, amid the gold lace, gems, jewels, ties, tags, and -glittering uniforms of the crowd around him. The king asked who he was, -and on being informed, he remarked: “Ma foi! il est _bien distingué_!” -He could not have paid the same compliment to the noble Stewart’s wife, -if it be true, as was reported, that at one of the state-dinners, or -state balls, she appeared with her husband’s jewelled garter, worn as a -_bandeau_, and “Honi soit qui mal y pense” burning in diamonds upon her -forehead. - -May it not have been the unpleasant effects of Henry’s gastronomic -indulgences that made of him a dabbler in medicine? Many of his -prescriptions in his own handwriting are still extant, and some of -them are in the British Museum. He invented a plaister, and was -the concocter of more than one original ointment for the cure of -indigestion. He also prepared “a plaister for the Lady Ann of Cleves, -to mollify and lessen certain swellings proceeding from cold, and -to dissipate the boils on the stomach.” His majesty in some of his -after-dinner ruminations professed also to have discovered a remedy -for the plague; the prescription for which he sent to the lord mayor. -He was very tender of the health of Wolsey, when the cardinal little -regarded his own. His majesty, on one occasion, counsels his minister, -if he would soon be relieved from “the sweating,” to take light -suppers, and to drink wine very moderately, and to use a certain kind -of pill. I do not know if Henry’s cookery and kitchen at all smelt -of unorthodoxy before the Reformation, but it is a fact that, when -Cardinal Campeggio came over here on the business of the divorce of -Henry and Catherine, he was especially charged by the Pope to look into -the state of cookery in England generally, and in the royal palace in -particular. - -The royal table of Elizabeth was a solemnity indeed. But it was all a -majestically stupendous sham. The attendants thrice bent their knee -as they approached to offer her the different dishes; and when these -ceremonies had been gone through, the queen rose and retired to a -private room, where the meats were placed before her, and she was left -to dine as comfortably as the citizens and their wives of Eastcheap and -Aldersgate. - -Among the numerous new year’s gifts made to Elizabeth, and by which she -contrived to maintain a splendid wardrobe, gifts of good things for her -table were not wanting. One of her physicians presented her with a box -of foreign sweetmeats; another doctor with a pot of green ginger; while -her apothecaries gave her boxes of lozenges, ginger-candy, and other -conserves. “Mrs. Morgan gave a box of cherries and one of apricots.” -The queen’s master-cook and her serjeant of the pastry presented her -with various confectionary and preserves. - -Elizabeth and her “maids” both dined and breakfasted upon very solid -principles and materials. Beef and beer were consumed at breakfast,--“a -repast for a ploughman!” it may be said. Alas! ploughmen are content, -or seem so, to strengthen their sinews as they best may of a morning -with poor bread and worse tea. Elizabeth made a truly royal bird of -the goose,--a distinction which her sister Mary failed to give to the -cygnet, the stork, and the crane. These no more suited the national -taste than that Crimean delicacy, a Russian oyster, and which all -Englishmen who have tasted thereof pronounce to be a poisonous dab -of rancid putty. Yet Russian princes are fond thereof, and Russian -sovereigns order them for especial favourites;--just as the Prince -Regent, whenever Lord Eldon was to dine at Carlton House, always -commanded the chancellor’s favourite dish to be placed near him,--liver -and bacon. - -The household expenditure of James I. amounted to £100,000 sterling -yearly; double the sum required for the same purpose by Elizabeth; and -if “cock a leekie” and “haggis” were dishes to which his national taste -gave fashion, the more foreign delicacies of snails and legs of frogs, -dressed in a variety of ways, were readily eaten by the very daintiest -of feeders. The taste of the purveyors was, however, something clumsy. -What would now be said if a _chef_ sent up to table four huge pigs, -belted and harnessed with ropes of sausages, and all tied together to a -monstrous bag-pudding? - -The court of James I. was uncleanly enough, but it was made worse by -the example of the Danish king and his courtiers, on the royal visit -to the Stuart. “The Danish custom of drinking healths was scrupulously -observed, and in a company of even twenty or thirty, every person’s -health was required to be drunk in rotation; sometimes a lady or an -absent patron was toasted on the knees, and, as a proof of love or -loyalty, the pledger’s blood was even mingled with the wine.” It is -well known that the ladies of the court, as well as the gentlemen, got -“beastly drunk,” in honour of the visit of the King of Denmark to his -sister, the consort of James I. - -James, whose taste in gastronomy was not a very delicate one, used to -say that if ever he were called upon to provide a dinner for the devil, -his bill of fare should consist of “a pig, a poll of ling and mustard, -and a pipe of tobacco for digestion.” - -There was more temperance under Charles I., and increased moderation -under the Commonwealth, when Cromwell’s table was remarkable for its -simplicity. The civic feasts of those days were also distinguished by -their decorous sobriety; and it is, perhaps, worth noticing that the -“show” followed, and did not precede the dinner. - -Charles I. was served with a world of old-fashioned ceremony, not -unlike that which ought to have made Louis XIV. very uncomfortable. The -fact, however, is, that both monarchs were pleased with the cumbrous -solemnities of state, and nothing affected our English king more in his -fallen fortunes than the rude service which he received at the hands -of the Puritan servitors of whose masters he was the captive. When -he was in durance at Windsor, his meat was brought to him uncovered, -and carried without any observance of respectful form, by the common -soldiers. No trial or “say” of the meats was made; no cup presented on -the knee. This absence of ceremony wounded Charles to the very quick. -It chafed him more than greater sorrows did subsequently. It was, he -observed, the refusal to him of a service which was paid, according to -ancient custom, to many of his subjects; and rather than submit to the -humiliation, he chose to diminish the number of dishes, and to take his -meals in strict privacy. - -There are few kings who had such variety of experience in matters -of the table as Charles II. The first spoonful of medicine that was -offered him he resisted with a determined aversion which never left him -for that sort of _pabulum_. His table was but simple enough during the -latter years of his father, but it was worse after the fatal day of -Worcester. He was glad then, at White Lady’s, to eat “bread and cheese, -such as we could get, it being just beginning to be day;” and “bread, -cheese, small beer, and nothing else,” sufficed him in the oak. Bread, -butter, ale and sack, he swallowed in country inns, and seemed rather -to look on the masquerade and the meals as a joke. - -When he was lying hid in Spring Coppice, the goodwife Yates brought -to his most sacred majesty “a mess of milk, some butter, and -eggs,”--better fare than the parched peas which were found, in after -days, in the pocket of the fugitive Monmouth. The women provided for -him as tenderly in his hour of hunger and trial, as their ebony sisters -did for Mungo Park in his African solitude. When Charles arrived at -the house at Boscobel, he “ate bread and cheese heartily,” and (as an -extraordinary), “William Penderell’s wife made his majesty a posset -of fine milk and small beer, and got ready some warm water to wash -his feet, not only extremely dirty, but much galled with travel.” The -king, in return, called the lady “my dame Joan,” and the condescension -quickened her hospitality; for shortly after, she “provided some -chickens for his majesty’s supper, a dainty he had not lately been -acquainted with.” But the king and his followers not only longed for -more substantial fare, but were not very scrupulous as to the means of -obtaining it. Colonel Carlis, for instance, went into the sheepcot of a -farmer residing near Boscobel, and like an impudent as well as a hungry -thief “he chose one of the best sheep, sticks him with his dagger, then -sends William for the mutton, who brings him home on his back.” The -next morning was a Sunday morning, and Charles, having muttered his -prayers, went eagerly to the parlour to look after the stolen mutton. -It was hardly cold, but Will Penderell “brought a leg of it into the -parlour; his majesty called for a knife and a trencher, and cut some of -it into collops, and pricked them with the knife-point, then called for -a frying-pan and butter, and fried the collops himself, of which he ate -heartily.” Colonel Carlis, the while, being but under-cook (and that, -honour enough too), made the fire, and turned the collops in the pan. -“When the colonel,” adds the faithful Blount, who records this table -trait, “afterwards attended his majesty in France, his majesty, calling -to remembrance this passage among others, was pleased merely to propose -it, as a problematical question, whether himself or the colonel were -the master-cook at Boscobel, and the supremacy was of right adjudged to -his majesty.” Circumstances which made of the royal adventurer a king -were the spoiling of an excellent cook. When he was secretly sojourning -at Trent, his meat was, for the most part, to prevent the danger of -discovery, dressed in his own chamber; “the cookery whereof served him -for some divertisement of the time.” The king better understood cookery -as a science than the machinery of it. When he stood in the kitchen of -Mr. Tombs’s house at Longmarston, disguised as “Will Jackson,” the busy -cook-maid bade him wind up the jack. “Will Jackson” was obedient and -attempted it, but hit not the right way, which made the maid in some -passion ask, “What countryman are you, that you know not how to wind -up a jack?” Will Jackson answered very satisfactorily, “I am a poor -tenant’s son of Colonel Lane, in Staffordshire. We seldom have roast -meat, but when we have, we don’t make use of a jack;” which in some -measure assuaged the maid’s indignation. Never had the sacredness of -majesty been in such peril since the period when Alfred marred instead -of made the cakes of the neatherd’s angry wife. But Charles escaped to -his rather hungry exile in France;--and see, how sweet are the uses -of adversity! When this charming prince was restored to the throne, -he brought with him two gifts of which the nation had heard little -for some years;--one was the Church Liturgy, and the other, “God d--n -ye,”--a fashionable phrase which has tumbled from the court to the -alley. - -It can hardly be said that Charles, when king, fulfilled the -requirement which Lord Chesterfield subsequently laid down, when he -insisted that a man should be gentleman-like even in his vices. When -William of Orange came to England as the suitor of the king’s niece, -the Princess Mary, Charles took an unclean delight in making the -Dutchman drunk. Evelyn says:--“One night, at a supper given by the -Duke of Buckingham, the king made him (William) drink very hard; the -heavy Dutchman was naturally averse to it, but being once entered, was -the most frolicsome of the company; and now the mind took him to break -the windows of the chambers of the maids of honour; and he had got -into their apartments had they not been timely rescued. His mistress, -I suppose,” adds Evelyn, and it is a strange comment for so sensible -a man, “did not like him the worse for such a notable indication of -his vigour.” The monarch who made his _paulo-post_ successor drunk -had little difficulty to bring the lord mayor of London into the same -condition; and the city potentate and his “cousin the king” had that -terrible “other bottle” together, in which men’s reason ordinarily -makes shipwreck, with their dignity. But his majesty, of blessed -memory, was a trifle devout after his drink, and on the “next morning” -he heard anthems in his chapel, and, by way of devotion, would lean -over his own pew and play with the curls of Lady Castlemaine, who -occupied the next seat to that of “our most religious and gracious -king.” When he was pouring the public money into the lap of that -precious lady, he was leaving his own servants unpaid; and, on one -occasion, when these could not obtain their salaries, they carried off -their royal master’s linen, and left him without a clean shirt or a -table-cloth! - -The priests with whom Louis XIV. and Louis XV. used to transact their -religion were wont to excuse all the conjugal infidelities of those -anointed reprobates by remarking that they ever treated their consorts -with the very greatest politeness. The poets of Charles’s days went -further, and extolled his marital affection. Waller, for instance, -congratulates the poor queen, that if she were ill, Charles was by to -tend and weep over her:-- - - “But, that which may relieve our care - Is, that you have a help so near - For all the evil you can prove; - The kindness of your Royal Love. - He that was never known to mourn - So many kingdoms from him torn, - His tears reserved for you; more dear, - More prized, than all those kingdoms were! - For when no healing art prevail’d, - When cordials and elixirs fail’d, - On your pale cheek he dropt the shower, - Revived you like a dying flower.” - -The illness referred to was a spotted fever; and here is Pepys’ plain -prose on the subject:--“20th October, 1663. This evening, at my lord’s -lodgings, Mrs. Sarah, talking with my wife and I, how the queen do, -and how the king tends her, being so ill. She tells us that the -queen’s sickness is the spotted fever; that she was as full of the -spots as a leopard, which is very strange that it should be no more -known; but perhaps it is not so; and that the king do seem to take it -much to heart, for that he hath wept before her; but for all that he -hath not missed one night since she was sick, of supping with my lady -Castlemaine; which I believe is true; for she says that her husband -hath dressed the suppers every night; and I confess I saw him myself -coming through the street, dressing up a great supper to-night, which -Sarah also says is for the king and her, which is a very strange -thing.” Oh, depth of royal grief, that required light suppers and light -ladies for its solace! - -The _Spectator_ has preserved for us a pleasant story illustrative both -of royal and citizen good-fellowship, in the reign of Charles II., and -in the person of the king and that of his jolly lord mayor, Sir Robert -Viner. The merry monarch had been dining with the chief magistrate -and the municipality, at Guildhall, where he had not drunk so deeply -himself but he was aware that the jollity of his entertainers was -beginning to render them rather oblivious of the respect due to their -royal guest. He accordingly, with a curt farewell, slipped away down to -his coach, which was awaiting him in Guildhall-yard. But the lord mayor -forthwith pursued the runaway, and overtaking him in the yard, seized -him by the skirts of his coat, and swore roundly that he should not -go till they “had drank t’other bottle!” “The airy monarch,” says the -narrator in the _Spectator_, “looked kindly at him over his shoulder, -and with a smile and graceful air (for I saw him at the time, and do -now), repeated this line of the old song:-- - - “‘And the man that is drunk is as great as a king!’ - -“and immediately turned back, and complied with his landlord.” This -anecdote, however, though it be given on the authority of an alleged -eye-witness, is probably over-coloured with regard to the conduct of -his worship the mayor. Mr. Peter Cunningham quotes (in his story of -Nell Gwyn) from Henry Sidney’s Diary, a letter addressed to Sidney by -his sister the Countess Dowager of Sutherland, and which refers to the -incident of the visit of Charles to Guildhall. The letter in question -was written five years after the mayoralty of Sir Robert Viner. “The -king had supped with the lord mayor, and the aldermen on the occasion -had drunk the king’s health, over and over, upon their knees, wishing -every one hanged and damned that would not serve him with their lives -and fortunes. But this was not all. As his guards were drunk, or said -to be so, they would not trust his majesty with so insecure an escort, -but attended him themselves to Whitehall, and, as the lady-writer -observes, ‘all went merry out of the king’s cellar.’ So much was this -accessibility of manner in the king acceptable to his people, that the -mayor and his brethren waited next day at Whitehall, to return thanks -to the king and duke for the honour they had done them, and the mayor, -confirmed by this reception, was changed from an ill to a well-affected -subject.” - -But as this merry mourner lived, so may he almost be said to have -died. It will be remembered with what disgust Evelyn records the -scene at Whitehall, a week before the king’s decease:--“I can never -forget,” he says, “the inexpressible luxury and profaneness, gaming -and all dissoluteness, and as it were total neglectfulness of God, it -being Sunday evening, which this day sennight I was witness of, the -king sitting and toying with his concubines, Portsmouth, Cleveland, -Mazarine, &c.; a French boy singing love-songs in that glorious -gallery; whilst about twenty of the great courtiers and other dissolute -persons were at basset, round a large table, a bank of at least two -thousand pounds in gold before them, upon which two gentlemen who were -with me made reflections in astonishment. Six days after, all was in -the dust.” - -There was more meanness, but not more decency, under James II., but his -queen more deeply resented, and that in public, at dinner, the insults -levelled at her. When Mrs. Sedly, in 1686, was created Countess of -Dorchester, the day on which the nomination passed the Great Seal, and -indeed on a subsequent occasion, the queen showed how she was touched -by the honours paid to a brazen concubine. “The queen,” says Evelyn, -“took it very grievously, so as for two dinners, standing near her, I -observed she hardly ate one morsel, nor spake one word to the king, -or to any about her; though at other times she used to be extremely -pleasant, full of discourse and good-humour.” Such is one of the table -traits of the time of James II. - -There is little to be said of William III., save that he kept a -well-regulated table, and was excessively angry if he detected any -faults in the service. He is described as being kind, cordial, open, -even convivial and jocose. He would sit at table many hours, and would -bear his full share in festive conversation. Burnet, I think, somewhere -intimates, but I cannot recollect the precise words, that he was -something more than moderately given to Hollands. As much, indeed, has -been said of Queen Anne. But Anne _was_ inclined to indulge in good -living, and her doctor, Lister, had as many gastronomic propensities -as herself. Lister entered into the minutiæ of the kitchen with the -exactness of an apothecary weighing poison. On the subject of larks, he -says, for the benefit of the queen, and all who love such dainty food, -that if twelve larks do not weigh twelve ounces, they are scarcely -eatable; they are just tolerable if they reach that weight; but that if -they weigh thirteen ounces, they are fat and excellent! On such table -matters did royal physicians write, when Anne was queen. - -The table of George, Prince Regent, was splendidly served. The court -language was French, as though the days of the Normans were come -again. But the son of George III., whether as prince or as king, and -despite his character of being the first gentleman in Europe, was _not_ -naturally refined. He loved to have around him men like Humboldt, -who, when his guest, amused him with stories as broad as they were -long. He himself would tell similar stories, even in the presence of -his mother and sisters, and in spite of a sharp “Fie, George!” and -an indignant working of her fan on the part of Queen Charlotte. When -king, the female society which he assembled at the Pavilion was very -_décolleté_ indeed, both as regarded person and principles, and the -appearance of these brilliant looking and light dressed individuals -in the day-time gave to Brighton an aspect that put Rowland Hill into -fits. There were joyous evenings then at Virginia Water, on “tea -and marrow bones,” and there was everything there but refinement. -Refinement, indeed, was not the characteristic of any one prince -of the house. The Duke of Cumberland revelled in coarse jests, and -was delighted when they embarrassed the modesty that could not even -comprehend them. The Duke of Cambridge was perhaps the least offensive -of the family. He was the professional diner-out of the house; and in -his day very few public dinners took place without having the advantage -of his presence as president. He was, on such occasions, punctuality -itself, and could not tolerate being kept waiting. In such cases, he -sometimes wiled away the time by trying over music with the musical -gentlemen whose harmony was to relieve the toasts and tedium of the -evening, but his impatience sometimes got the better of his politeness -and of his reverence for serious things, and we shall not soon forget -the effect he produced at a “religious public dinner,” by exclaiming -aloud, “Where is the chaplain? d--n him! Why doesn’t he say grace?” -Before passing to the next reign, we may take notice of a fact that is -not generally known, but which nevertheless cannot be disputed. The -coronation banquet of George IV. was one of the most splendid upon -record. But there was a world of “leather and prunella” about it, in -spite of its reputed splendour. Thus, for instance, the king’s table -was one gorgeous display of gold plate, but the plates and dishes at -all the other tables, one only, I believe, excepted, were composed of -nothing more costly than good, honest pewter. The metal was indeed so -splendidly burnished that to the eye no silver highly polished could -have been more dazzling; but the truth remains that the peerage that -day dined off pewter. But the occasion gave value to the material, -and the dishes, in their character of relics of the glory of the last -coronation banquet in Westminster Hall, are as highly prized, and as -reverently preserved, as though they were composed of materials less -strange to Potosi than tin, antimony, and a trifle of copper. - -Court life, in the reign of William IV., was but of a very sombre -aspect. The good old king used to indulge in giving toasts after -dinner, and he made long and somewhat prosy speeches. Of the latter -he was particularly fond, and he made the then young Prince George of -Cambridge his pupil, by giving the health of his father, the Duke, and -inducing the son to rise and return thanks for the honour conferred. -It was no bad discipline for one who intended to become a public man. -The young prince became a very fair speaker under the old king’s -instructions. William detested politics, and he invariably fell asleep -during the dessert. It would have violated etiquette to have awoke -him; and the queen and her ladies never thought of rising until the -royal eye-lids began again to give symptoms of returning wakefulness. -He was fond of talking, over the wine, of military details, and was -proud of two achievements connected therewith; first, that he had made -Colonel Needham shave off his cherished whiskers, according to the -new regulations; and that he had succeeded in having all the Waterloo -medals worn with the king’s head outwards. He frequently fell asleep -during these conversations; and then the guests quietly passed the -wine from one to the other, and, as they drank off their glasses, bowed -to or smiled at the sleeping sovereign the while. In the evening, there -generally was music, during which the Queen Adelaide was as generally -engaged in worsted work. The king usually honoured some one with an -invitation to sit by his side on the sofa. He then fell asleep again, -and the unlucky, honoured individual, did not dare leave his “coign of -’vantage” until the king awoke and gave the signal. William was a very -moderate joker, and he loved a joke from others. It is reported that, -when heir presumptive, he once said to a Secretary of the Admiralty -who was at the same dinner-table, “C----, when I am king, you shall -not be Admiralty Secretary! Eh, what do you say to that?” “All that I -have to say to that, in such a case, is,” said C----, “God save the -king!” I have heard it further said, that William never laughed so -loudly as when he was told of a certain _parvenu_ lady, who, dining at -Sir John Copley’s, ventured to express her surprise that there was “no -_pilfered_ water on the table.” - -The dining-tables of deceased monarchs belong to history; and, -consequently, the limit of this imperfect record is to be found here. -One further illustration, however, of “household” matters may here be -not inaptly introduced. A few months ago a gentleman, who had been in -his early years the personal friend of the Duke of Kent, was desirous -of sending from Sicily a testimonial of his respect to the late Duke’s -daughter, our sovereign lady the Queen. His grateful remembrance took -the shape of some very rare and choice Sicilian wine, the proper -transmission of which was entrusted to the good offices of a friend -of the donor. This honorary agent proceeded to the proper office for -instructions, and there he was somewhat surprised at being informed -that, as soon as the duty had been paid upon the wine, the latter -would be forwarded to the “household.” At this strange intimation, the -friendly agent wrote to his principal for fresh instructions, and the -principal, who had not the slightest intention of showing his respect -for the memory of a sire by presenting wine to the “household” of that -sire’s royal daughter, at once directed the luscious tribute to be -divided among friends who had households of their own, and who could -appreciate the present. The rule, with regard to offerings like these, -was not in former times so ungraciously severe. When Mrs. Coutts used -to send her pleasant tributary haunches of venison to the Pavilion, she -was not informed that the “household” would condescend to dine upon -the venison: on the contrary, a graceful autograph note from the royal -recipient not only made cheerful acknowledgment of the gift, but also -gave hearty promise that it would be thoroughly enjoyed. There is more -independence, perhaps, in the present system, which discourages all -tributes, whatever may be their nature; but there is something very -ungracious in the method of its application. - -Enough, however, of this matter, or we shall have little time to -discuss, even briefly, two other subjects, touching which I would say -something, before we are finally called to “supper.” The first of these -comes under the head of “Strange Banquets.” - - - - -STRANGE BANQUETS. - - -Under this title I was half inclined to include the records of the -achievements of those gastronomic heroes, whose spirit was something -like that of the boy’s who ate with two spoons, and cried because -he could not swallow faster. But, from Milo and his entire bull for -dinner, down to Dando and his peck of oysters for supper, there is a -sameness of very gross detail, and perhaps not very great truth, in -all. The rustic who was victor at an eating match, “by a pig and an -apple pie,” was on a level with the ancient kings, who were wont to -boast that they could carry more beneath their belts with impunity than -any other men. So the ardour of the two villages contemplating their -respective champions--gluttons employed for the honour of their several -birth-places--and the exultation of one party at finding its favourite -ahead “by two turkeys and a pound of sausages,” gave proof of as much -dignity of humanity as was given in _their_ case by those nations of -old who weighed their kings annually, and had a general illumination -when they found their monarchs growing fatter. - -These illustrations of table manners, if indeed they deserve to be so -called, we leave to the perusal of those whose devotion is of that cast -that they would have reckoned Baal as a god, for no other reason than -the sufficient one given of old, namely, that he ate much meat. In more -modern times, we have had defunct kings who have been supposed capable -of consuming as much as Baal himself, or any of his lively followers; -for an illustration of which fact we must pass over, for a short time, -to the once kingdom of France. - -The last banquet prepared by the culinary officers of Francis I. for -that royal personage, was one at which my readers would not have cared -to sit in fellowship with the king, nor was it one which that monarch -himself could be said to have perfectly enjoyed. He made, indeed, no -remark or complaint, but _that_ was for the natural reason that he was -dead when he presided at it! How this came to pass I will proceed to -relate. - -On the 1st day of March, 1546, Francis I. died in the Château de -Rambouillet. The whole of the following day his body was in the hands -of the surgeon-embalmers, who vainly exercised their office to render -that sweet when dead which had by no means been so when living. During -six weeks the corpse was deposited at the neighbouring Abbey of -Haute-Bruyère. It was then transported to the house of the Archbishop -of Paris at St. Cloud, where there was a duplicate “lying in state.” -The dead king, extended on a couch of richly embroidered crimson satin, -was surrounded by a thickly-wedged mass of priests, who, night and day, -offered up prayers for the repose of his soul. In the adjacent chamber -was the “counterfeit presentment,” or effigy of the monarch, made -“after nature,” reclining on a bed of the most gorgeous description, -on and about which was displayed all that could lend additional solemn -glory to the scene. The waxen effigy, with hands joined, was decked -in a crimson silk shirt, covered by a light blue tunic powdered with -_fleurs de lis_. The royal mantle, of a deep violet, lay across the -feet; and near it were the orders, chains, and other “bravery” worn by -Francis in his lifetime. On the head was a violet velvet scull-cap, -and above that the crown. The legs were thrust into boots of cloth -of gold, with crimson satin soles,--but then they were not made for -walking in. In the room, and particularly near the bed, there was a -blaze of gold and jewellery, such as dazzled the sight only to look at -it. The upper portion of the bed was fashioned like a tent. Sentinels -guarded it from without, and priests kept watch with much prayer -within. They were of all grades, from cardinals and princes of the -Church down to bare-footed friars, who would have been more thankful -for a scarlet hat than for a pair of the newest sandals. These were the -guests at a banquet where the king was the highly honoured host. - -We are told by old Pierre de Chastel, Bishop of Macon, that the -ordinary etiquette of service was rigorously maintained every day, -during eleven days, as if the king had been living and laughing in -the midst of them. The royal dinner-table was laid out at the side of -the bed; a cardinal blessed the viands; and a gentleman of various -quarterings presented to the unconscious image a full ewer, wherewith -to wash the hands which, folded as they were, seemed like those of -the father of Miss Kilmansegg, to be already washing themselves with -invisible soap in imperceptible water! - -A second gentleman offered to the representative of the defunct king -a vase mantling with wine; and a third wiped his lips and fingers, as -if either could have been soiled by _not_ coming in contact with the -cates and the goblet! These functions, and others that may very well be -passed over, were performed amid a most death-like silence, and by the -fitful light of funereal torches,--the only dinner lamps in use while -the dead king was engaged in _not_ dining. And such were the clever -funeral banquets presided over by the waxen similitude of a defunct -king. And here it should be _my_ office to pass to other subjects more -immediately connected with Table Traits, but I may perhaps, be pardoned -if I add, that the royal corpse, after the copious feeding which its -effigy was mocked with, was raised with incredible pomp, and borne into -Paris with an attendant mixture of the sublime and the ridiculous. It -was preceded by beggars, nobles, cavaliers, and cooks, (“officiers de -bouche,”) pages, surgeons, and valets de chambre, grooms, heralds, and -archbishops. The followers behind the car were of more uniform and -exalted rank; and when the procession reached Vaugérard, it was met by -the twenty-four town-criers of Paris, who took immediate precedence -of the five hundred beggars. The funeral service in the cathedral was -conducted with similar magnificence; but what is most singular is the -fact, that the solemn ceremony was no sooner concluded, than it was -recommenced with all gravity, for the benefit of the waxen effigy -that had been served for eleven days with an “omelette fantastique!” -and more than this, two of the sons of the deceased king, having -been previously interred, but with maimed rites, a newly organized -procession and service took place on this occasion, not only for -themselves, but for their effigies also! There was an ocean of holy -water scattered on these exaggerated dolls; the aspersion, however, was -borne with a calmness worthy of their dignity! And at these ceremonies -the English ambassador, with other Christian representatives, appeared -on horseback, each with a prelate mounted also at his side. The -union represented that which ought to exist between church and state -everywhere, but which does not even in the Duchy of Baden. When the -lengthened solemnities had come to a conclusion, the merry pages, as -hungry as they were joyous, scrambled for sweetmeats, and that was the -last of the feasting or fasting of Francis I. - -All this seems barbarous and antique: it _is_ the former rather than -the latter. The custom, with some attendant exaggerations, is still -prevalent in China, where only two years ago the defunct aunt of the -sun and moon, mother to the reigning monarch, was feasted with a -solemn parade of magnificent nonsense, the details of which make those -of the banquet of the deceased Francis look extremely poor indeed. I -believe that the Chinese idea with regard to their poor dead princess -was, that she, or the immortal part in her, could not possibly -take flight upon the celestial dragon waiting to convey her to the -pagoda--paradise of Cathay--until this farewell banquet had been given -to her by those who had loved her upon earth. - -It is the easiest thing in the world, and perhaps it is the most -natural, to smile superciliously at these customs, and dismiss them -with the definite remark, that they were heathenish and superstitious. -_But_ our grandmothers, or _their_ mothers rather, saw something very -like it in England. In the latter case, it was not the consequence of -a law that ruled in such matters, but a spontaneous act of a sublimely -ridiculous, or a ridiculously sublime, affection. Henrietta, Duchess -of Marlborough, we are told, demonstrated her affection for Congreve -in a manner indicative of absolute insanity. “Common fame reports,” -says Kippis, in the “Biographia Britannica,” “that she had his figure -made in wax, talked to it as if it had been alive, placed it at table -with her, took great care to help it with different sorts of food, had -an imaginary sore in its leg regularly dressed, and, to complete all, -consulted physicians with regard to its health.” - -An invitation from the duchess to dinner, to meet her simulative -friend, who could hardly be said to have waxed wittier after his -metempsychosis, would not have been a lively thing. I am not sure -that I would not rather have been in the place of the Hetman of the -Zaparogue Cossacks, who was strangely treated and dieted when he was -elected to the chief command over his own wild hordes. His followers -besmeared (and the fashion is not yet obsolete) his face with mud, -placed a symbolic _baton_ in his hand, and a saucy-looking crane’s -feather in his bonnet. They then gave him a cupful of tar (a process -that would have delighted Bishop Berkeley), and after pitching -greatness into him in this manner, he was allowed a draught of mead by -way of purifying his palate. When Shakspere said, “Take physic, pomp,” -he was little aware of the custom to that effect among the Zaparogues. -It was sweetened, indeed, by the conclusive draught of mead, as -Berkeley’s dissertation on tar water was wound up by a sermon on the -Trinity; but I think I would have preferred swallowing the tar, with -nothing to qualify it but the title, rather than have sat down to the -most sumptuous of banquets, between the mad duchess and her wax lover -with an issue in his leg! - -William Howitt tells of an old countrywoman whom he sought to initiate -into the simple elements of religion, and to whom he presented a -Testament. When the latter had been read through, the worthy teacher -asked her what she thought of the solemn record: “Ah, well!” was the -graceless comment, “it all happened so long ago, and so far off, that -I don’t believe a word of it!” Some such witticism may, perhaps, apply -to my stories just told, some of which have distant scenes for their -locality, and others distant periods for their times of actions. But, -in the way of barbarous banquets, examples may be cited less open to -this objection; and if the far-off Zaparogue chiefs have a cruelly -nasty inauguration into greatness, I do not know if the children in -the Scottish Highlands, to whom the wise women there administer a -mixture of whisky and earth as their first food, have not a nastier -inauguration into life. Having mentioned Scotland, I may, while on -the subject of strange banquets, show how they cooked and fed in the -days of Edward III. “Nor yet had they,” says old Joshua Barnes, “any -cauldrons or pans to dress their meat in; for what beasts they found -(as they always had good store in those northern parts), they would -seethe them in their own (the beasts’!) skins, stretched out bellying -on stakes, in the manner of cauldrons; and having thus sodden their -meat, they would take out a little plate of metal, which they used to -truss somewhere in or under their saddles, and laying it on the fire, -take forth some oatmeal (which they carried in little bags behind them -for that purpose), and having kneaded and tempered it with water, -spread that thereon. This being thus baked they used for bread, to -comfort and strengthen their stomachs a little when they eat flesh.” - -Stomachs that needed no other comforting than this must have belonged -to men of irresistible arms. They devoured the bullocks, and afterwards -dressed themselves in the cauldrons. They remind us of those nomade -people of whom the poet asks,-- - - “Was ever Tartar fierce or cruel - Upon the strength of water-gruel? - But who shall stand his rage and force, - If first he rides, then eats his horse?” - -And this metrical allusion to ancient banquets, and characteristic -prowess connected with them, recalls to my memory the singular story -touching the strangest of facts, which has been told in choice verse by -Ludwig Uhland. The German poet, in narrating it, has condemned himself -to execute a sort of double hornpipe in fetters, having set himself the -task to introduce one word, the subject of his poem, into every stanza -of his rhymed romance. “Done into English,” the legend runs thus:-- - - -THE CASTELLAN OF COUCY, OR THE HEART. - - “How deeply young De Coucy sigh’d, - How sad the feeling that came o’er him, - And smote his heart, when first he saw - The Lady of Fayal before him! - - “How suddenly his song assumed - The strain of love’s impassion’d fire! - How every measure clearly told - His heart vibrated with his lyre! - - “But vain the sweetness of his song, - In am’rous cadence softly dying! - No hope had he to move the heart - Of her who heeded not his sighing! - - “For even, when beyond his wont - He fell on some inspirèd strain, - The wedded lady’s heart scarce moved,-- - It warm’d but to be cold again. - - “Then was the Castellan resolved, - The cross upon his cuirass’d breast, - ’Mid toils in Palestine to seek - The tumults of his heart to rest. - - “And there, in many a hot affray, - Where perils threat, and dangers thicken, - He stands till,--’spite his coat of mail, - His noble heart with death is stricken. - - “‘Oh! hear’st thou me, my page?’ he cried, - ‘When this fond heart has ceased its beating, - To the fair Lady of Fayal - Bear it, with De Coucy’s greeting.’ - - “In cold and consecrated earth - The hero’s corpse at length reposes; - But o’er his heart, his broken heart, - Hot so the tomb its portal closes. - - “The heart within a golden urn. - Was laid; the page received the treasure, - And quickly sped him o’er the main, - To do his noble master’s pleasure. - - “Now whirlwinds tear, and waters dash, - Now lightnings rend, and masts are falling; - All hearts on board are struck with awe, - One heart alone’s beyond appalling! - - “Now beams the golden sun again; - Now France upon the bow’s appearing; - All hearts on board with joy are cheer’d; - One heart alone’s beyond all cheering! - - “And soon, through Fayal’s frowning wood, - The page and heart their way are making, - When winding sounds the lusty horn, - With hunters’ cries the stillness breaking. - - “Then from the thicket bounds a stag, - Through his heart an arrow flying, - Checks his course, and strikes him dead,-- - At the page’s feet he’s lying. - - “And now the Ritter of Fayal, - Who first the gallant stag had wounded, - Gallops up with hunting train, - Who soon the gentle page surrounded. - - “The golden urn had quickly fall’n - To the Ritter’s knaves a welcome booty, - Had not the boy stepp’d back a pace, - And told them of his mournful duty. - - “‘Heart of a knightly Troubadour, - Here is a warrior’s heart, I say,-- - The Castellan of Coucy’s heart; - Let pass this heart its peaceful way! - - “‘Dying, my gallant master cried, - When this heart has ceased its beating, - To the fair Lady of Fayal - Bear it, with De Coucy’s greeting.’ - - “‘That dame I know full passing well!’ - Shouted the knight in deadly passion, - As from the trembling page he tore - The urn, in fierce uncourteous passion. - - “And with it, grasp’d beneath his cloak, - Homeward sped the savage Ritter; - The heart close press’d upon his breast, - Fill’d it with thoughts of vengeance bitter. - - “Scarce at his castle-gate arrived, - His madden’d thoughts intent on treason, - Than straight his frighted cooks are charged - The heart with condiments to season. - - “’Tis done! and richly strewn with flow’rs, - And lain on golden dish withal, - ’Tis placed before the Knight and Dame, - When seated in their banquet-hall. - - “The Knight upon the Lady tended. - Speaking in terms of feign’d delight-- - ‘Of all the produce of my chase, - This heart is yours, fair dame, by right!’ - - “But scarcely had the Lady tasted - Of the dainty placed before her, - When impulse, strong and strange, to weep, - Irresistibly came o’er her. - - “On marking which the Ritter cried, - With wild and savage laugh unholy, - ‘Do pigeons’ hearts, my faithful Dame, - Give tendency to melancholy? - - “‘Then how much more, O Lady mine, - Must fare like this such passion raise-- - The Castellan of Coucy’s heart, - Whose lyre was wont to sound thy praise?’ - - “And when the Knight, with stern reproof, - Had ceased thus sneering to upbraid, he - Stood; while hand on heart too, thus - With solemn action spoke the Lady:-- - - “‘Thou’st done me foulest wrong to-day! - Ne’er false was I, not e’en in thought, - Till this poor heart I touch’d but now, - Within my own mutation wrought. - - “‘The youthful Poet’s passion, told - With sadden’d heart and anxious brow, - I scorn’d while yet the Poet lived, - But dead! I yield me to it now. - - “‘To death devoted, this weak frame, - To which De Coucy’s heart hath lent - A brief support, shall never more - Partake of earthly nourishment. - - “‘May Heav’n its mercy show to all; - Yes, e’en to thee may Heav’n show it!’ - - * * * * * - - “Such is the story of a heart - That once inspired a youthful Poet.” - -The above story of the Castellan de Coucy is considered to be -one of Uhland’s most remarkable poems, as much from its general -sweetness, unhappily lost in translation, as from the wit with which -he continually keeps before the reader the one word which forms the -principal feature in the little romance. The tale is, however, by no -means new. There are few nations whose story-tellers do not celebrate -a lady who was forced by a jealous husband to eat the heart of her -lover. It is common to England, Ireland, and Scotland. In France, the -story exists nearly as Uhland has told it. In Germany, it is to be -met with in various forms. In one of these, the lady is shown to have -been more kind and less faithful than the Ritter’s wife of Fayal. But -above all it is, as the mad prince says, “extant, and written in very -choice Italian,” by the at once seductive and repulsive Boccaccio. It -is one of the least filthy of a set of stories, told with a beauty of -style, a choice of language, a lightness and a grace, which make you -forget the matter and risk your morals, for the sake of improving your -Italian. In Boccaccio’s narrative, the lady is of course very guilty; -and the husband also, of course, murders the lover in as brutal and -unknightly a fashion as can well be imagined. Nothing else could be -expected from that unequalled story-teller, (unequalled as much for the -charm of his manner, as for the general uncleanness of his details,) -who but seldom has a good word to say for woman, or an honest testimony -to give of man. Human nature presented nothing beautiful or estimable -to him; and yet it is undeniable that he had an acute perception of -beauty and honour. The characters he describes are scurvy, vicious, -heartless, debauched wretches; but he dresses them up in such dashing -bravery of attire, and endows them with such divinity of beauty, and he -writes of their whereabout with such witchery of pen, that his poor, -weak, ensnared readers have nothing for it but to go on in alternate -extremes of admiring and condemning. To revert to the German prose -story of the Heart, I may say that it is merely a bad translation from -the “Decameron,” telling in a very matter-of-fact way the history of a -Lady von Roussillon, “welches ihres geliebte Herz zu essen erhält, und -sich den Tod gibt.” - -This strange banquet is not to be set down as positively apocryphal, -merely because it has fallen into the possession of the rhymers and -romancers. The old German barons were rather inclined to a barbarous -species of kitchen--something crude and cannibal of character--if we -may so far credit the extravagances of legend as to believe that they -are founded on fact. But we need not go to Germany and fairy periods -for illustrations of extraordinary banquets, or individual dieting. - -Among eccentric gastronomists, I do not recollect one more remarkable -than Mrs. Jeffreys, the sister of Wilkes. At Bath, she slept throughout -the year beneath an open window, and the snow sometimes lent her bed an -additional counterpane. She never allowed a fire to be kindled in this -room, the chief adornment of which was a dozen clocks, no two of which -struck the hour at the same moment. She breakfasted frugally enough -on chocolate and dry toast, but proceeded daily in a sedan-chair, -with a bottle of Madeira at her side, to a boarding-house to dine. -She invariably sat between two gentlemen, “men having more sinew in -mind and body than women,” and with these she shared her “London -Particular.” Warner, in his “Literary Recollections,” says that some -mighty joint that was especially well-covered with fat, was always -prepared for her. She was served with slices of this fat, which she -swallowed alternately with pieces of chalk, procured for her especial -enjoyment. Neutralizing the _subacid_ of the fat with the alkaline -principle of the chalk, she “amalgamated, diluted, and assimilated the -delicious compound with half-a-dozen glasses of her delicious wine.” -The diet agreed well with the old lady, and she maintained that such a -test authorized use. - -We may contrast with the lady who loved lumps of chalk, the people of -a less civilized time and place, who had a weakness for a species of -animal food, which is not to be found written down in the _menus_ of -modern dinners. Keating, in his “Narrative of an Expedition to the -Source of St Peter’s River,” gives some curious details, which may -be not inappropriately touched upon here, referring as they do to a -nation of dog-eaters. The custom at first sight strikes us as rather -revolting; but the animal in question, to say nothing of our stealthy -friend the cat, is eaten every day in “ragoûts,” that smoke on the -boards of the cheap _gargottes_ of Paris and the _banlieux_. After -all, custom and prejudice have much to do with the subject. “What -do you do with your dead?” once asked a member of a distant Asiatic -tribe of a Roman. “We bury them,” answered the latter. “Gracious -heaven!” exclaimed the “untutored Indian,” with disgust, “what filthy -and fiendish impiety!” “Why so?” inquired the other. “What do you and -your people with _your_ dead?” “We treat them,” replied the Indian -proudly, “with the decent forms that best become the dead; we _eat_ -them!” To this day the nobles of Thibet are honoured after death with -a very valuable and enviable privilege. They are reverentially offered -to a body of hounds, maintained for the especial purpose of devouring -the defunct aristocracy. What remains at the end of the process is -cared for, like the ashes which were taken of old from beneath the -pile on which a loved corpse had lain. This exclusive honour is never -vouchsafed to the commonalty; it is the particular vested right of -greatness; and had Hamlet known of it when he traced great Cæsar’s clay -stopping a bung-hole, it would have afforded him another illustration -of the base uses to which mortality may return. Let _us_ return to the -dog-eaters. Mr. Keating shall tell what he saw among them, in his own -words: _Sua narret Ulysses_. - -“As soon as we had taken our seats, the chief (Wanotau) passed his -pipe round; and while we were engaged in smoking, two of the Indians -arose, and uncovered the large kettles which were standing over the -fire. They emptied their contents into a dozen of wooden dishes which -were placed all round the lodge. These consisted of buffalo meat -boiled with _tepsin_; also the same vegetable boiled without the meat, -in buffalo grease; and, finally, the much-esteemed dog-meat--all -which were dressed without salt. In compliance with the established -usage of travellers to taste of everything, we all partook of the -latter, with a mixed feeling of curiosity and reluctance. Could we -have divested ourselves entirely of the prejudices of education, we -should, doubtless, unhesitatingly have acknowledged this to be one of -the best dishes that we had ever tasted. It was remarkably fat,--was -sweet and palatable. It had none of that dry, stringy character which -we had expected to find in it; and it was entirely destitute of the -strong taste which we had apprehended it must possess. It was not an -unusual appetite, or the want of meat to compare with it, which led -us to form this favourable opinion of the dog; for we had on our dish -the best meat which our prairies afford. But so strongly rooted are -the prejudices of education, that though we all unaffectedly admitted -the excellence of this food, yet few of us could be induced to eat -much of it. We were warned by our trading friends, that the bones -of this animal are treated with great respect by the doctors. We -therefore took great care to replace them in the dishes; and we are -informed that after such a feast is concluded, the bones are carefully -collected, the flesh scraped off them, and that after being washed, -they are burned on the ground; partly, as it is said, to testify to -the dog-species that in feasting on one of their number, no disrespect -was meant to the species itself; and partly also from a belief that -the bones of the animal will arise and reproduce another. The meat of -this animal, as we saw it, was thought to resemble that of the finest -Welsh mutton, except that it was of a much darker colour. Having so far -overcome our repugnance as to taste it, we no longer wonder that the -dog should be considered a dainty dish by those in whom education has -not created a prejudice against this flesh. In China it is said that -fatted pups are frequently sold in the market-place; and it appears -that an invitation to a feast of dog meat is the greatest distinction -that can be offered to a stranger by any of the Indian nations east -of the Rocky Mountains. That this is not the case among some of the -nations on the east of those mountains, appears from the fact that -Lewis and Clarke were called in derision by the Indians of Columbia, -‘dog-eaters.’” - -It may be readily believed that the food above spoken of must be more -acceptable to the human appetite than the snails which are fattened -for the public markets in the meadows about Ulm. Two Edinburgh doctors -did indeed pronounce the prejudice against snails to be absurd, and -they showed the strength of their own convictions by sitting down to -a charmingly prepared little dish. The courage of each failed him at -the first taste, but neither liked to confess as much to the other. -They went on playing with their repast, until one ventured to say in a -remarkably faint voice, “Don’t you think, doctor, they are a _leetle_ -green?” “D--d green, Sir! d--d green!” was the hearty confirmatory -rejoinder; “they are d--d green! take them away!” - -But the Australians do not always exhibit this extreme nicety. If they -cannot, or once could not, eat biscuits, they have no such delicate -scruples about eating babies, even when those babies are their own. The -cannibalism of the Australians appears to be not so obsolete as those -who wish well to humanity would fain desire. This is settled by the -testimony of Mr. Westgarth, a member of the local parliament, and the -latest writer who has touched upon the subject. In his “Victoria, late -Australia Felix,” he says:--“In their natural state, the aborigines -stand out with a species of rude dignity. The precision and acuteness -of their observant faculties are not to be surpassed; and they exhibit -a surprising tact in their various modes of discovering and securing -food. The narrow compass of their minds is concentrated in a few -lines of vocation, in which, as in the exhibitions of a Blind Asylum, -there are displayed an extraordinary accuracy and skill. But to these -barbaric excellences, must be added the most degrading, superstitious, -and revolting customs. Civilized nations are still unwilling to believe -that infanticide and cannibalism are associated with the customs of -any race of human beings, or voluntarily practised, except in those -rare cases of necessity which have broken down the barriers of nature -alike to the white and the black; but nothing is better affirmed than -that cannibalism is a constant habit with this degraded race, who -alternately revel in the kidney fat of their slain or captured enemies, -and in the entire bodies of their own friends and relatives. Nor can -the infant claim any security from the mother who bore it, against -some ruthless law, or practice, or superstition, that on frequent -occasions consigns the female proportion, and sometimes both sexes, to -destruction. On authentic testimony, bodies have been greedily devoured -even in a state of obvious and loathsome disease; and a mother has -been observed deliberately destroying her youngest child, serving it -up as food, and gathering around her the remainder of the family to -enjoy the unnatural banquet.” It is certainly pleasant to turn from -such a spectacle as this to contemplate the wives of the King of Delhi, -who pass their time in spoiling, but not killing, their children, and -whose chief amusement, after matters of dress, consists in sitting and -cracking nutmegs in presence of the Great Mogul! - -But there are worse things than these which necessity can render -acceptable to the palate. In Australia especially does nature appear -to indulge in strange freaks. Many of our salt-water fish there live -in fresh-water rivers; and, indeed, more than one inland river is -brackish if not salt. Yet of salt itself the natives had never tasted, -until the arrival among them of Europeans; they do not take kindly -to the condiment even to this day. They prefer their own unadorned -cookery; and they would especially have admired the late Dr. Howard, -who published quarterly his denunciations against the use of salt. In -Australia, the pears are made of wood, and the stones of the cherries -grow on the outside, and not within. The aborigines are satisfied with -very unsavoury diet. They have one fashion, however, in common with the -self-appointed leaders of civilization, the French; they eat frogs. In -France it is the pastime of the _bourgeois_, on a summer evening, to -resort to some pool with a rod and line, and a piece of red rag or bit -of soap for bait, and there catch the little people who could not agree -about their king by the dozen. In Australia the native ladies, in their -usual scantiness of costume, proceed to the swamps; and there, plunging -their long arms up to the shoulders into the mud, they draw up the -astonished frogs by handfuls. When caught they are cooked over a slow -fire of wood-ashes; the hinder parts only are eaten, as in France; and -there are worse dishes than the _fricasée_ of the edible frog. Indeed, -if the Australians devoured nothing more objectionable, their system of -diet would almost defy reproof. But, alas! I find upon their bills of -fare--grubs, raw and roasted, snakes, lizards, rats, mice, and weazels. -The mussel is deeply declined by some of the tribes, in consequence -of an opinion prevailing that the fish in question is the especial -property of sorcerers, whose amiable propensity it is to destroy -mankind by means of mussels. If all the world held the same opinion, I -have no doubt of great profit therefrom resulting. - -One of our earlier captains who visited Australia observing a native -devouring some indescribable sort of food, offered him, in exchange -for a portion of it, a sound sea-biscuit. The exchange was effected, -and then it became a point of courtesy and honour that each should eat -what he had acquired by the barter. The trial was a severe one for both -parties. The Englishman swallowed slowly, and with a sickening sense -of disgust that cannot be told, the odious food of the aboriginal; -while the native, nibbling at the biscuit, appeared to grow more -horror-stricken at each bit which he tried to swallow. The tears came -into his eyes, he grew sick, faint, enraged; and at length, dashing the -biscuit on the ground, he as violently seated himself upon it with a -bounce that ought to have driven it to the very centre of the earth. -The Englishman, in the meantime, had flung away the remnant of _his_ -“_pièce de résistance_,” and they remained gazing at each other, with -the inward conviction that, as regarded food, each had tasted that day -that which deserved to be designated as surprisingly beastly. - -Keating’s Indians are not the only men of North America who have a -delicate fancy for the dog: the Dacotas are also that way given. Their -celebrated “dog-dance” is indeed a festival but of rare occurrence, -but it is held to show that that highly respectable people would eat -the hearts of their enemies with as little reluctance as the heart -of a dog. And this is the manner of the feast of “braves;” they cook -the heart and liver of a dog, cool them in water, and then hang the -dainties on a high pole, around which they assemble as grave and -silent as quakers. The spirit is literally supposed to move them, and -when one is thus influenced, he begins to bark, and jumps towards the -pole. Another follows his example. The jumping backwards and forwards, -and the chorus of barking become gradually universal, and the solemn -concert is then at its height. Every one does his best, according as -nature has gifted him. The children snap like French poodles; the girls -yelp like pugs; some snarl, others growl; the women “give tongue” as -musically as the Bramham Park hounds; and the fathers of the tribe run -through a scale of sounds that would highly astonish Lablache. - -And thus, in the midst of it all, one becomes bolder than the rest, -looks about him grinningly defiant, and making a run and a leap at the -canine dainties suspended from the pole, he generally touches ground -again with a piece thereof in his teeth! This good example is also -followed universally, until the tempting prize is all consumed, and -then there is “a general dance of characters,” and the drama is done. -The Dacotas have an esteem for diminutive dogs; and, lest my readers -should deem the tribe to be wholly unacquainted with civilization and -its secrets, I will just mention that these Indians not only drink -whisky with as much profusion as it is drunken in godly Glasgow, but -they occasionally administer a little of it to their dogs, in order to -stunt their growth. Such prayers too as they have, are also marked by a -modern and civilized character; for example, they say, “Great Spirit! -Father! help us to kill our enemies, and give us plenty of corn!” This -is the very spirit of much of the prayer put up by the dwellers in the -regions of enlightenment. And the spirit, with its proper motives, is -not one to be blamed. These barbarous Indians do not, at all events, -insult their Great Spirit, by asking him to give peace in their time, -_because_ none other fighteth for them but him. This would sound to -their ear as though they needed peace, for the reason that their -defence in war was not to be relied upon; and, if it had slipped into -their formulary, they would at least amend it without delay. - -But this is getting critical, and so to become reminds us of authors. -Now to treat of _them_, in reference to the table, is generally -speaking to fall upon the discussion of their “calamities,” and the -Encyclopædia of famished writers would be a very heavy work indeed. -We have yet time, however, before the chapter of “Supper” opens, to -take a cursory glance at a few of the brotherhood of the brain and -quill. It can be but of a few, and of _that_ few but briefly. “_Tanto -meglio!_” says the reader, and I will not dispute the propriety of the -exclamation. - - - - -AUTHORS AND THEIR DIETETICS. - - -It is all very well for Mr. Leigh Hunt to write a poem on the “Feast -of the Poets,” and to show us how Apollo stood “pitching his darts,” -by way of invitation to the ethereal banquet. This is all very well in -graceful poetry, but the account is no more to be received, than the -new gospel according to _ditto_ is likely to be by the Lord Primate -and orthodox Christians. It is far more difficult to tell the matter -in plain prose; for, where there are few dinners, many authors cannot -well dine. It is easier to tell how they fasted than how they fed; how -they died, choked at last by the newly-baked roll that came too late to -be swallowed, than how they lived daily,--for the daily life of some -would be as impossible of discovery, as the door of the “Cathedral -of Immensities,” wherein Mr. Carlyle transacts worship. The soul of -the poet, says an Eastern proverb, passes into the grasshopper, which -sings till it dies of starvation. An apt illustration, but our English -grasshoppers must not be used for the illustrative purpose, seeing that -they are far too wise to do anything of the sort. A British grasshopper -no more sings till he dies, than a British swan dies singing: these -foolish habits are left to foreigners and poetry. Let us turn to the -more reliable register of our ever-juvenile friend, Mr. Sylvanus Urban. - -More than a century ago, Mr. Urban, who is the only original “oldest -inhabitant,” gave a “Literary Bill of Mortality for 1752,” showing -the casualties among books as well as among authors. Touching the -respective fates of the former, we find the productions of the year -set down as, “Abortive, 7000; still-born, 3000; old age, 0.” Sudden -deaths fell upon 320. Three or four thousand perished by trunk-makers, -sky-rockets, pastrycooks, or worms; while more than half that number -were privily disposed of. If such were the fortunes of the works, how -desperate must have been the diet of the authors! So also was their -destiny. As a class, they are fixed, in round numbers, at 3000; and a -third of these are registered as dying of lunacy. Some 1200 are entered -as “starved.” Seventeen were disposed of by “the hangman,” and fifteen -by hardly more respectable persons, namely _themselves_! Mad dogs, -vipers, and mortification, swept off a goodly number. Five pastoral -poets, who could not live by the oaten pipe, appropriately died of -“fistula.” And, as a contrast to the multitude “starved,” we find a -_zero_ indicating the ascertained quantity of authors who had perished -by the aldermanic malady of “surfeit.” - -There is, perhaps, more approximation to truth than appears at first -sight in this _jeu d’esprit_. It was only in Pagan days that authors -could boast of obesity. They dined with the _tyranni_, as Persian poets -get their mouths stuffed with sugar-candy by the Shah Inshah. And yet -Pliny speaks of poets feeding sparingly, _ut solent poetœ_. Perhaps -this was only an exception, like that of Moore, who smilingly sat -down to a broil at home when not dining with “right honourables;” or -contentedly thanked Heaven for “salt fish and biscuits” with his mother -and sister in Abbey Street, the day after he had supped with the ducal -viceroy of Ireland, and half the peerage of the three kingdoms. - -Still, in the old times, authors took more liberty with their hosts. -In Rome they kept more to the proprieties; for a nod of the head of -the imperial entertainer was sufficient to make their own fly from -their shoulders. In presence of the Roman emperor of old, an author -could only have declared that the famous invasion of Britain, which -was productive of ship-loads of spoil, in the shape of sea-shells, -was a god-like feat. So, at the table of the czar, all the lyres of -Muscovy sing the ode of eternal sameness, to the effect that the -dastardly butchery at Sinope was an act that made the angels of God -jubilant! The Russian lyres dare not sing to any other tune. It was -not so of yore. Witness what is told us of Philoxenus, the ode writer, -whose odes, however, are less known than his acts. He was the author -of the wish that he had a crane’s neck, in order to have prolonged -enjoyment in swallowing. This is a poor wish compared with that of -Quin, elsewhere recorded, that he might have a swallow as long as from -here to Botany Bay in palate all the way! He was a greedy fellow, -this same Philoxenus. He accustomed himself to hold his hands in the -hottest water, and to gargle his throat with it scalding; and, by this -noble training, he achieved the noble end of being able to swallow the -hottest things at table, before the other guests could venture on them. -He would have conquered the most accomplished of our country bumpkins -in consuming hasty-pudding at a fair. His mouth was as though it was -paved, and his fellow-guests used to say of him, that he was an oven -and not a man. He once travelled many miles to buy fish at Ephesus; -but, when he reached the market-place, he found it all bespoke for a -wedding banquet. He was by no means embarrassed; he went uninvited to -the feast, kissed the bride, sang an epithalamium that made the guests -roar with ecstasy, and afforded such delight by his humour, that the -bridegroom invited him to breakfast with him on the morrow. His wit -had made amends for his devouring all the best dishes. It is a long way -from Philoxenus to Dr. Chalmers forgetting his repast in the outpouring -of his wisdom, and entering in his journal the expression of his fear -that he had been intolerant in argument. What a contrast, too, between -Philoxenus and Byron, who, when dining with a half-score of wits at -Rogers’s, only opened his mouth to ask for biscuits and soda-water, and -not finding any such articles in the bill of fare, silently dining on -vegetables and vinegar! The noble poet’s fare in Athens was often of -the same modest character; but we know what excesses he could commit -when his wayward appetite that way prompted, or when he wished to lash -his Pegasus into fury, as, after reading the famous attack on his -poetry in the Edinburgh Review, when he swallowed three bottles of -claret, and then addressed himself to the tomahawking of his reviewers -and rivals. - -Philoxenus, however, had his counterpart in those abbés and poets who -used, in the hearing of Louis XV., to praise Madame de Pompadour. He -was writing a poem called “Galatea,” in honour of the mistress of -Dionysius of Sicily, when he was once dining with that tyrant. There -were a couple of barbels on the royal board, a small one near the -poet, and a larger near the prince. As the latter saw Philoxenus put -his diminutive barbel to his ear, he asked him wherefore, and the poet -replied that he was asking news of Nereus, but that he thought the -fish he held had been caught too young to give him any. “I think,” -said Philoxenus, “that the old fish near your sacredness would better -suit my purpose.” This joke has descended to Joe Miller, in whose -collection it is to be found in a modified form. But the story is -altogether less neat than the one told of Dominic, the famous Italian -harlequin and farce writer. He was standing in presence of Louis -XIV. at dinner, when the Grand Monarque observed that his eyes were -fixed on a dish of partridges. “Take that dish to Dominic,” said the -king. “What!” exclaimed the _farceur_, “partridges and all!” “Well,” -said the monarch, smiling with gravity, “yes, partridges and all!” -This reminds me of another anecdote, the hero of which is the Abbé -Morallet, whom Miss Edgeworth in her “Ormond” praises so highly, and -praises so justly. But Morallet, if he loved good deeds, loved not -less good dinners, and he shone in both. His talents as a writer, -and his virtues as a man, to say nothing of his appetite, made him -especially welcome at the hospitable table of Monsieur Ansu. The abbé -had learned to carve expressly that he might appropriate to himself -his favourite portions,--a singular instance of selfishness in a man -who was selfish in nothing else. It was on one of these occasions that -a magnificent pheasant excited the admiration of the guests, and of -the abbé in particular, who nevertheless sighed to think that it had -not been placed close to him. Some dexterity was required so to carve, -it, that each of the guests might partake of the oriental bird; and -the mistress of the house, remembering the abbé’s skill as a carver, -directed an attendant to pass the pheasant to M. l’Abbé de Morallet. -“What!” exclaimed the latter, “the whole of it? how very kind!” “The -whole of it?” repeated the lady; “I have no objection, if these ladies -and gentlemen are willing to surrender their rights to you.” The entire -company gave consent, by reiterating the words, “the whole of it!” and -the man, who might have gained the Montholon prize for virtue, really -achieved a prize of gluttony which hardly confers honour on a hungry -clown at a fair. - -La Fontaine at table was seen in a better light than the Abbé Morallet. -A fermier-general once invited him to a dinner of ceremony, in the -persuasion that an author who excited such general admiration would -create endless delight for the select company, to entertain whom he -had been invited. La Fontaine knew it well, during the whole repast -ate in silence, and immediately rose, to the consternation of the -convives, to take his departure. He was going, he said, to the Academy. -The master of the house represented to him that it was by far too -early, and that he would find none of the members assembled. “I know -that,” said the fabulist, with his quiet smile and courteous bow; “I -know that, but I will go a long way round.” If this seemed a trifle -uncourteous--and it was so more in seeming than reality--it was not -so much so as in the case of Byron, who used to invite a company to -dinner, and then leave them to themselves to enjoy their repast. Noble -hosts of the past century used to do something like this when they gave -masquerades. Fashion compelled them to adopt a species of amusement -which they detested; but they vindicated personal liberty nevertheless, -for when their rooms were at their fullest, the noble host, quietly -leaving his guest to the care of his wife, would slip away to some -neighbouring coffee-house, and over a cool pint of claret enjoy the -calm which was not to be had at home. The late Duke of Norfolk used -habitually to dine at one of the houses in Covent Garden, out of pure -liking to it. He was accustomed to order dinner for five, and to duly -eat what he had deliberately ordered; but, as he one day detected a -waiter watching him in his gastronomic process, he angrily ordered his -bill, and never entered the house again. - -It was a common practice with Haydn, like his Grace of Norfolk, to -order a dinner for five or six, and then eat the whole himself. He -once ordered such a dinner to be ready by a stated hour, at which time -he alone appeared, and ordered the repast to be served. “But where is -the company?” respectfully inquired the head waiter. “Oh!” exclaimed -Haydn, “_I_ am de gompany!” But if he ate all, he also paid for all. -Moore and Bowles, in their visits together to Bath, used sometimes to -dine at the White Hart, where, as Moore records, he paid his share of -the dinner and pint of Madeira, and then Bowles magnificently “stood” a -bottle of claret, at dessert. And a pleasant dinner the two opposite, -yet able, poets, made of it;--far more pleasant than Coleridge’s dinner -with a party at Reynolds’s, when he bowled down the glasses like -nine-pins, because they were too small to drink from copiously! - -The name of Coleridge reminds me of Dufresny, an author of the time -of Louis XIV., who was full of sentiment and majestic sounds, but -who was content to live at the cost of other people, and who never -achieved anything like an independence for himself. After the death -of his royal patron, he was one day dining with the Regent Duke of -Orleans, who expressed a wish to provide for him. Caprice inspired -the author to say, “Your royal highness had better leave me poor, as -I am, as a monument of the condition of France before the regency.” -He was not displeased at having his petition refused. A guest at his -side did indeed remark, by way of encouragement, that “poverty was no -vice.” “No,” answered Dufresny, sharply, “but it is something very -much worse.” In act and spirit he was not unlike a prince of wits and -punsters among ourselves, who used to set up bottles of champagne on -his little lawn and bowl them down for nine-pins; and who, of course, -left his wife and children pensioners on the charity of the state and -the people. - -I have spoken of La Fontaine; he was as absent at table as poor Lord -Dudley and Ward, whose first aberrations so alarmed Queen Adelaide. -La Fontaine was also like Dean Ogle, who, at a friend’s table, always -thought himself at his own, and if the dinner were indifferent, he -would make an apology to the guests, and promise them better treatment -next time. So La Fontaine was one day at the table of Despreaux; the -conversation turned upon St. Augustin, and after much serious discourse -upon that Christian teacher, La Fontaine, who had till then been -perfectly silent, turned to his neighbour, the Abbé Boileau, one of -the most pious men of his day, and asked him “if he thought that St. -Augustin had as much wit as Rabelais?” The priest blushed scarlet, and -then contented himself with remarking, “M. de la Fontaine, you have got -on one of your stockings the wrong side out;”--which was the fact. - -The poet’s query to the priest was no doubt as startling as that put -by the son of a renowned reverend joker to the then Lord Primate. The -anxious parent had informed his somewhat “fast” offspring, that as the -archbishop was to dine with him that day, it would be desirable that -the young gentleman should eschew sporting subjects, and if he spoke at -all, speak only on serious subjects. Accordingly, at dessert, during a -moment of silence, the obedient child, looking gravely at his grace, -asked him “if he could tell him what sort of condition Nebuchadnezzar -was in, when he was taken up from grass?” The Lord Primate readily -replied that he should be able to answer the question by the time he -who had made it had found out the name of the man whom Samson ordered -to tie the torches to the foxes’ tails, before they were sent in to -destroy the corn of the Philistines! - -Moore loved to dine with the great; but there have been many authors -who could not appreciate the supposed advantages of such distinction. -Lainez was one of these, and there were but few of his countrymen who -resembled him. One day the Duke of Orleans met him in the park at -Fontainebleau, and did him the honour of inviting him to dinner. “It -is really quite impossible,” said Lainez; “I am engaged to dine at a -tavern with half-a-dozen jolly companions; and what opinion would your -royal highness have of me if I were to break my word?” Lainez was not -like Madame de Sevigné, who, after having been asked to dance by Louis -XIV., declared in her delight that he was the greatest monarch in the -world. Bussi, who laughed at her absurd enthusiasm, affirms that the -fair authoress of the famous “Letters” was so excited at the supper -after the dance, that it was with difficulty she could refrain from -shrieking out “Vive le Roi!” - -Had the famous “petit père André” kept down his impulses as -successfully as Madame de Sevigné did at the supper, where, after -all, she did _not_ exclaim, “Vive le Roi,” it would have been more to -his credit, and less to our amusement. The good father, like a better -man, H. Vincent de Paul, was excessively fond of cards, but he did not -cheat, like the saint, for the sake of winning for the poor. He had -been playing at _piquet_, and in one game had won a considerable sum by -the lucky intervention of a fourth king. He was in such ecstasy at his -luck, that he declared at supper he would introduce his lucky fourth -king into his next day’s sermon. Bets were laid in consequence of this -declaration, and the whole company were present when the discourse was -preached. The promise made at the supper was kept in the sermon, though -something profanely: “My brethren,” said the abbé, “there arrived one -king, two kings, three kings; but what were they?--and where should I -have been without the fourth king, who saved _me_, and has benefited -you? That fourth king was He who lay in the manger, and whom the three -royal magi came but to worship!” At the dinner which followed the -author of the sermon was more eulogised than if he had been as grand as -Bourdaloue, as touching as Massillon, or as winning as Fénelon. - -There was more wit in a curé of Basse Bretagne, who was the author -of his diocesan’s pastorals, and who happened to hold invitations -to dinners for the consecutive days of the week. He could not take -advantage of them and perform his duty too, but he hit on a method of -accomplishing his desire. He gave out at church, an intimation to this -effect:--“In order to avoid confusion, my brethren, I have to announce -that to-morrow, Monday, I will receive at confession, the liars only; -on Tuesday, the misers; on Wednesday, the slanderers; on Thursday, -the thieves; Friday, the libertines; and Saturday, the women of evil -life.” It need not be said that the priest was left during _that_ week -to enjoy himself without let or hindrance. And it was at such joyous -dinners as he was in the habit of attending that most of the sermons, -with startling passages in them, like those of Father André, were -devised. Thus, the Cordelier Maillard, the author of various pious -works, at a dinner of counsellors, announced his intention of preaching -against the counsellors’ ladies,--that is, against their wives, or -such of them that wore embroidery. And well he kept his word, as the -following choice flowers from the bouquet of his pulpit oratory will -show. “You say,” he exclaimed to the ladies in question, “that you are -clad according to your conditions; all the devils in hell fly away with -your conditions, and you too, my ladies! You will say to me, perhaps, -Our husbands do not give us this gorgeous apparel, we earn it by the -labours of our bodies. Thirty thousand devils fly away with the labours -of your bodies, and you too, my ladies!” And, after diatribes like -these against the ladies in question, the Cordelier would dine with -their lords, and dine sumptuously too. The dinners of the counsellors -of those days were not like the Spanish dinner to which an author -was invited, and which consisted of capon and wine, two excellent -ingredients, but unfortunately, as at the banquet celebrated by Swift, -where there was nothing warm but the ice, and nothing sweet but the -vinegar, so here the capon was cold and the wine was hot. Whereupon, -the literary guest dips the leg of the capon into the flask of wine, -and being asked by his host wherefore he did so, replied, “I am -warming the capon in the wine, and cooling the wine with the capon.” - -The host was not such a judge of wine, apparently, as the archbishops -of Salzbourg, who used not indeed to write books, nor indeed read -them, but who used to entertain those who did, and then preach against -literary vanity from those double-balcony pulpits which some of my -readers may recollect in the cathedral of the town where Paracelsus was -wont to discourse like Solan, and to drink like Silenus; and before -whose tomb I have seen votaries, imploring his aid against maladies, -or thanking him for having averted them! It is said of one of these -prince primates that when, on the occasion of his death, the municipal -officers went to place the seals on his property, they found the -library sealed up exactly as it had been done many years before at the -time of the decease of his predecessor. Such, however, was not the case -with the wine-cellars. What the archiepiscopal wine is at Salzbourg, I -do not know, but if it be half as good as that drank by the monks of -Mölk, on the Danube, why the archbishops may stand excused. Besides, -they only drank it during their leisure hours,--of which, as Hayne -remarks, archbishops have generally four-and-twenty daily. - -But to return nearer home, and to our own authors:--Dr. Arne may be -reckoned among these, and it is of him, I think, that a pleasant story -is told, showing how he wittily procured a dinner in an emergency, -which certainly did not promise to achieve such a consummation. The -doctor was with a party of composers and musicians in a provincial -town, where a musical festival was being celebrated, and at which they -were prominent performers. They proceeded to an inn to dine; they were -accommodated with a room, but were told that every eatable thing in -the house was already engaged. All despaired in their hunger, save -the “Mus. Doc.” who, cutting off two or three ends of catgut, went -out upon the stairs, and observing a waiter carrying a joint to a -company in an adjacent room, contrived to drop the bits of catgut on -the meat, while he addressed two or three questions to the waiter. He -then returned to his companions, to whom he intimated that dinner would -soon be ready. They smiled grimly at what they thought was a sorry -joke, and soon after, some confusion being heard in the room to which -the joint which he had ornamented had been conveyed, he reiterated the -assurance that dinner was coming, and thereupon he left the room. On -the stairs he encountered the waiter bearing away the joint, with a -look of disgust in his face. “Whither so fast, friend, with that haunch -of mutton?” was his query. “I am taking it back to the kitchen, Sir; -the gentlemen cannot touch it. Only look, Sir,” said William, with his -nose in the direction of the bits of catgut; “its enough to turn one’s -stomach!” “William,” said Arne gravely, “fiddlers have very strong -stomachs; bring the mutton to our room.” The thing was done, the haunch -was eaten, the hungry guests were delighted, but William had ever -afterwards a contempt for musical people; he classed them with those -barbarians whom he had heard the company speak of where he waited, who -not only ate grubs, but declared that they liked them. - -Martial was often as hardly put to it to secure a dinner as any of the -authors I have hitherto named. He was fond of a _good_ dinner, _ut -solent poetæ_; and he knew nothing better than a hare, followed by a -dish of thrushes. The thrush appears to have been a favourite bird in -the estimation of the poets. The latter, may have loved to hear them -sing, but they loved them better in a pie. Homer wrote a poem on the -thrush; and Horace has said, in a line, as much in its favour as the -Chian could have said in his long and lost poem,--“nil melius turdo.” -Martial was, at all events, a better fed and better weighted man than -the poet Philetas of Cos, who was so thin that he walked abroad with -leaden balls to his feet, in order that he might not be carried away -by the wind. The poet Archestratus, when he was captured by the enemy, -was put in a pair of scales, and was found of the weight of an obolus. -Perhaps this was the value of his poetry! It was the value of nearly -all that was written by a gastronomic authoress in France; I allude -to Madame de Genlis, who boasts in her Memoirs, that having been -courteously received by a certain German, she returned the courtesy -by teaching him how to cook seven different dishes after the French -fashion. - -The authors of France have exhibited much caprice in their gastronomic -practice; often professing in one direction, and acting in its -opposite. Thus Lamartine was a vegetarian until he entered his teens. -He remains so in opinion, but he does violence to his taste, and eats -good dinners for the sake of conforming to the rules of society! This -course in an author, who is for the moment rigidly Republican when all -the world around him is Monarchical, is singular enough. Lamartine’s -vegetarian taste was fostered by his mother, who took him when a -child to the shambles, and disgusted him with the sight of butchers -in activity on slaughtering days. He for a long time led about a pet -lamb by a ribbon, and went into strong fits at a hint from his mother’s -cook, that it was time to turn the said pet into useful purposes, -and make _tendrons d’agneau_ of him. Lamartine would no more have -thought of eating his lamb, than Emily Norton would have dreamed of -breakfasting on collops cut from her dear white doe of Rylston. The -poet still maintains, that it is cruel and sinful to kill one animal in -order that another may dine; but, with a sigh for the victim, he can -eat heartily of what is killed, and even put his fork into the breast -of lamb without compunction,--but all for conformity! He knows that if -he were to confine himself to turnips, he should enjoy better health -and have a longer tenure of life; but then he thinks of the usages of -society, sacrifices himself to custom, and gets an indigestion upon -truffled turkey. - -Moore, in his early days in London, used to dine somewhere in -Marylebone with French refugee priests, for something less than a -shilling. Dr. Johnson dined still cheaper, at the “Pine Apple,” in -New-street, Covent Garden--namely, for eightpence. They who drank wine -paid fourpence more for the luxury, but the lexicographer seldom took -wine at his own expense; and sixpenny-worth of meat, one of bread, and -a penny for the waiter, sufficed to purchase viands and comfort for -the author of the “Vanity of Human Wishes.” Boyce the versifier was of -quite another kidney; when he lay in bed, not only starving, but stark -naked, a compassionate friend gave him half-a-guinea, which he spent -in truffles and mushrooms, eating the same in bed under the blankets. -There was something atrociously sublime about Boyce. Famine had pretty -well done for him, when some one sent him a slice of roast beef, but -Boyce refused to eat it, because there was no catchup to render it -palatable. - -It must have been a sight of gastronomic pleasure to have seen Wilkes -and Johnson together over a fillet of veal, with abundance of butter, -gravy, stuffing, and a squeeze of lemon. The philosopher and the -patriot were then on a level with other hungry and appreciating men. -Shallow with his short-legged hen, and Sir Roger de Coverley over -hasty-pudding, are myths; not so Pope with stewed regicide lampreys, -Charles Lamb before roast pig, or Lord Eldon next to liver and bacon, -or Theodore Hook bending to vulgar pea-soup. These were rich realities, -and the principal performers in them had not the slightest idea of -affecting refinement upon such subjects. Goldsmith, when he could get -it, had a weakness for haunch of venison; and Dr. Young was so struck -with a broiled bladebone on which Pope regaled him, that he concluded -it was a foreign dish, and anxiously inquired how it was prepared. -Ben Jonson takes his place among the lovers of mutton, while Herrick -wandering dinnerless about Westminster, Nahum Tate enduring sanctuary -and starvation in the Mint, Savage wantonly incurring hunger, and Otway -strangled by it, introduce us to authors with whom “dining with Duke -Humphrey,” was so frequent a process, that each shadowy meal was but as -a station towards death. - -When Goldsmith “tramped” it in Italy, his flute ceased to be his -bread-winner as it had been in France; the fellow-countrymen of -Palestrina were deaf to “Barbara Allen,” pierced from memory through -the vents of an Irish reed. Goldsmith, therefore, dropped his flute, -and took up philosophy; not as a dignity; he played it as he had done -his flute, for bread and a pillow. He knocked at the gate of a college -instead of at the door of a cottage, made his bow, gave out a thesis, -supported it in a Latin which must have set on edge the teeth of his -hearers, and, having carried his exhibition to a successful end, was -awarded the trifling and customary honorarium, with which he purchased -bread and strength for the morrow. No saint in the howling wilderness -lived a harder life than Goldsmith during his struggling years in -London; the table traits, even of his days of triumph, were sometimes -coloured unpleasingly. I am not sure if Goldsmith was present at the -supper at Sir Joshua’s, when Miss Reynolds, after the repast, was -called upon as usual to give a toast, and not readily remembering one, -was asked to give the ugliest man of her acquaintance, and thereon -she gave “Dr. Goldsmith;” the name was no sooner uttered than Mrs. -Cholmondeley rushed across the room, and shook hands with Reynolds’s -sister, by way of approval. What a sample of the manners of the day, -and how characteristic the remark of Johnson, who _was_ present, and -whose wit, at his friend’s expense, was rewarded by a roar, that -“thus the ancients, on the commencement of their friendships, used to -sacrifice a beast between them!” Cuzzoni, when found famishing, spent -the guinea given her in charity, in a bottle of tokay and a penny -roll. So Goldsmith, according to Mrs. Thrale, was “drinking himself -drunk with Madeira,” with the guinea sent to rescue him from hunger -by Johnson. But let us be just to poor Oliver. If he squandered the -eleemosynary guinea of a friend, he refused roast beef and daily pay, -offered him by Parson Scott, Lord Sandwich’s chaplain, if he would -write against his conscience, and in support of government; and he -could be generous in his turn to friends who needed the exercise of -generosity. When Goldsmith went into the suburban gardens of London -to enjoy his “shoemakers’ holiday,” he generally had Peter Barlow -with him. Now Peter’s utmost limit of profligacy was the sum of -fifteen-pence for his dinner; his share would sometimes amount to five -shillings, but Goldsmith always magnificently paid the difference. -Perhaps there are few of the sons of song who dined so beggarly, -and achieved such richness of fame, as Butler, Otway, Goldsmith, -Chatterton, and, in a less degree of reputation, but not of suffering, -poor Gerald Griffin, who wrestled with starvation till he began to -despair. Chatterton _did_ despair, as he sat without food, hope, and -humility; and we know what came of it. Butler, the sturdy son of a -Worcestershire farmer, after he had astonished his contemporaries by -his “Hudibras,” lived known but to a few, and upon the charity or -at the tables of _them_. But he did not, like the heartless though -sorely-tried Savage, slander the good-natured friends at whose tables -he drew the support of his life. As for Otway, whether he perished -of suffocation by the roll which he devoured too greedily after long -fasting, or whether he died of the cold draught of water, drank when -he was overheated, it is certain that he died in extreme penury at the -“Bull” on Tower Hill,--the coarse frequenters of the low public-house -were in noisy revelry round their tables, while the body of the dead -poet lay, awaiting the grave, in the room adjacent. - -The table life of Peter Pindar was a far more joyous one than that of -much greater poets. At Truro he was noted for his frugal fare, and he -never departed from the observance of frugality of living throughout -his career. He would sometimes, we are told, when visiting country -patients, and when he happened to be detained, go into the kitchen and -cook his own beefsteak, in order to show a country cook how a steak -was done in London,--the only place, he said, where it was properly -cooked. He laughed at the faculty as he did at the king, and set -the whole profession mad by sanctioning the plentiful use of water, -declaring that physic was an uncertain thing, and maintaining that in -most cases all that was required on the doctor’s part was “to watch -nature, and when she was going right, to give her a shove behind.” -He was accustomed to analyse the drugs which he had prescribed for -his patients, before he would allow the latter to swallow them, and -he gave a decided county bias against pork by remarking of a certain -apothecary that he was too fond of bleeding the patients who resorted -to him, and too proud of his large breed of pigs. The inference was -certainly not in favour of pork. Peter’s practical jokes in connexion -with the table were no jokes to the chief object of them. Thus, when -a pompous Cornish member of parliament issued invitations for as -pompous a dinner to personages of corresponding pomposity, “Peter,” -recollecting that the senator had an aunt who was a laundress, sent her -an invitation in her nephew’s name, and the old lady, happy and proud, -excited universal surprise, and very particular horror in the bosom of -the parliament-man, by making her appearance in the august and hungry -assembly, who welcomed her about as warmly as if she had been a “boule -asphyxiatre” of the new French artillery practice. - -It is going a long way back to ascend from “Pindar” to Tasso, but both -poets loved roasted chestnuts,--and _there_ is the affinity. Peter -never drank any thing but old rum; a wine glass, (never beyond a wine -glass and a half,) served him for a day, after a dinner of the plainest -kind. The doctor eschewed wine altogether, at least in his latter days, -as generating acidity. Tasso, however, unlike our satirical friend, was -a wine-bibber. During the imprisonment which had been the result of -his own arrogance, he wrote to the physician of the Duke of Ferrara, -complaining of intestinal pains, of sounds of bells in his ears, of -painful mental images and varying apparitions of inanimate things -appearing to him, and of his inability to study. The doctor advised him -to apply a cautery to his leg, abstain from wine, and confine himself -to a diet of broth and gruels. The poet defended the sacredness of his -appetite, and declined to abstain from generous wine; but he urged the -_medico_ to find a remedy for his ills, promising to recompense him -for his trouble, by making him immortal in song. At a later period of -his life, when he was the guest of his friend Manco, in his gloomy -castle of Bisaccio, the illustrious pair were seated together, after -dinner, over a dessert of Tasso’s favourite chestnuts and some generous -wine; and there he affrighted his friend by maintaining that he was -constantly attended by a guardian spirit, who was frequently conversing -with him, and in proof of the same, he invited Manco to listen to -their dialogue. The host replenished his glass and announced himself -ready. Tasso fell into a loud rhapsody of mingled folly and beauty, -occasionally pausing to give his spirit an opportunity of speaking; -but the remarks of this agathodæmon were inaudible to all but the ears -of the poet. The imaginary dialogue went on for an hour; and at the end -of it, when Tasso asked Manco what he thought of it, Manco, who was the -most matter-of-fact man that ever lived, replied that, for his part, he -thought Tasso had drunk too much wine and eaten too many chestnuts. And -truly I think so too. - -The greatest of authors are given to the strangest of freaks. Thus -one of the most popular of the teachers of the people presided at a -gay tavern supper the night before the execution of the Mannings. -The feast concluded, the party (supplied with brandy and biscuits) -proceeded to the disgusting spectacle, where they occupied “reserved -seats;” and when all was done, the didactic leader of the revellers -and sight-seers, thought he compensated for his want of taste, by -pronouncing as “execrable” the taste of those who, like George -Selwyn, could find pleasure in an execution. But there are few men -so inconsistent as didactic authors. Pope taught, in poetry, the -excellence of moderation; but he writes to Congreve in 1715, that he -sits up till two o’clock over burgundy and champagne; and he adds, “I -am become so much of a rake that I shall be ashamed, in a short time, -to be thought to do any sort of business.” But Pope’s table practice, -like Swift’s, was not always of the same character. The dean, writing -to Pope, in the same year that the latter tells Congreve (a dissolute -man at table, by the way) of his sitting over burgundy and champagne -till two in the morning, speaks of quite another character of life: -“You are to understand that I live in the corner of a vast unfurnished -house. My family consists of a steward, a groom, a helper in my stable, -a footman, and an old maid, who are all at board wages; and when I -do not dine abroad, or make an entertainment,--which last is very -rare,--I eat a mutton pie, and drink half a pint of wine.” Pope’s habit -of sleeping after dinner did not incline him to obesity; and it was a -habit that the dean approved. Swift told Gay that his wine was bad, -and that the clergy did not often call at his house; an admission in -which Gay detected cause and effect. In the following year to that -last named, Swift wrote a letter to Pope, in which I find a paragraph -affording a table trait of some interest: “I remember,” he says, “when -it grieved your soul to see me pay a penny more than my club, at an -inn, when you had maintained me three months at bed and board; for -which, if I had dealt with you in the Smithfield way, it would have -cost me a hundred pounds, for I live worse here (Dublin) upon more. -Did you ever consider that I am, for life, almost twice as rich as -you, and pay no rent, and drink French wine twice as cheap as you do -port, and have neither coach, chair, nor mother?” Pope illustrates -Bolingbroke’s way of living as well as his own some years later. The -reveller till two in the morning, of the year 1715, is sobered down -to the most temperate of table men, in 1728. “My Lord Bolingbroke’s -great temperance and economy are so signal, that the first is fit for -my constitution, and the latter would enable you to lay up so much -money as to buy a bishopric in England. As to the return of his health -and vigour, were you here, you might inquire of his haymakers. But, as -to his temperance, I can answer that, for one whole day, we have had -nothing for dinner but mutton broth, beans and bacon, and a barn-door -fowl;” after all, no bad fare either, for peer or poet! Swift too, at -this period, boasts no longer of his “French wines.” His appetite is -affected by the appalling fact, that the national debt amounts to the -unheard-of sum of seven millions sterling! and thereupon he says: “I -dine alone on half a dish of meat, mix water with my wine, walk ten -miles a day, and read Baronius.” - -Such was the table and daily life of an author who began to despair of -his country! In 1732, however, the dean was again full of hope,--we -see it in the condition of his wine matters: “My stint in company,” he -writes to Gay, “is a pint at noon, and half as much at night; but I -often dine at home, like a hermit, and then I drink little or none at -all.” Was it that he despaired again, when alone; or that he only drank -copiously at others’ cost? Of his own cellar arrangements, though, he -thus speaks: “My one hundred pounds will buy me six hogsheads of wine, -which will support me a year, _provisæ frugis in annum copia_. Horace -desired no more; for I will construe _frugis_ to be wine. How a man -who drank little or none at home, and seldom saw company to help him -to consume the remainder, could contrive to get through six hogsheads -in a year, is a problem that will be solved when the philosophers of -Laputa have settled _their_ theories.” Literature is a pleasant thing -when its professors have not to write in order to live. Such was the -case in the last century, with poor De Limiers, who was permitted to -write in periodicals, on the stipulation that he “never told anybody.” -It is said of him that he would have been an exceedingly clever person, -if he had not always been hungry, but that famine spoiled his powers. -This was the bookseller’s fault, not his. The same might nearly be said -of poor Gerald Griffin; but _he_ kept his ability warm even amid cold -hunger, and had the courage to write his noble tragedy “Gisippus” on -scraps of paper picked up by him in wretched coffee-shops, where he -used to take a late breakfast, and cajole himself into the idea that it -was dinner. - -When Cervantes, with two friends, were travelling from Esquivias, -famous for its illustrious wines, towards Toledo, he was overtaken by -a “polite student,” who added himself and his mule to the company of -“the crippled sound one” and his friends, and who gave honest Miguel -much fair advice touching the malady which was then swiftly killing -him. “This malady is the dropsy,” said the student with the neck bands -that would _not_ keep in their place,--“the dropsy, which all the -water in the world would not cure, even if it were not salt; you must -drink by rule, sir, and eat more, and this will cure you better than -any medicine.” “Many have told me so,” was the reply of the immortal -Miguel, “but I should find it as impossible to leave off drinking, as -if I had been born for no other purpose. My life is well-nigh ended, -and by the beatings of my pulse, I think next Sunday, at latest, will -see the close of my career.” The great Spaniard was not very incorrect -in his prognostic. I introduce this illustrative incident for a double -reason; first, it is “germane to the matter” in hand, and secondly, -it reminds me of a fact with the notice of which I will conclude this -section of my imperfect narrative: I allude to - - -THE LIQUOR-LOVING LAUREATES. - -It is incontrovertible that, with the exception of two or three, -all our laureates have loved a more pleasant distillation than that -from bay-leaves. In the early days, the “versificatores regis,” -were rewarded, as all the minstrels in Teutonic ballads are, with -a little money and a full bowl. The nightingales in kings’ cages -piped all the better for their cake being soaked in wine. From the -time of the first patented laureate, Ben Jonson, the rule has borne -much the same character, and permanent thirstiness seems generally -to have been seated under the laurel. Thus, Ben himself was given to -joviality, jolly company, deep drinking, and late hours. His affection -for a particular sort of wine acquired for him the nick-name of the -Canary-bird; and indeed succeeding laureates who, down to Pye, enjoyed -the tierce of Canary, partly owe it to Ben. - -Charles I. added the wine to an increase of pay asked for by the bard; -and the spontaneous generosity of one king became a rule for those -that followed. The next laureate, Davenant, a vintner’s son, was -far more dissolute in his drinking, for which he did not compensate -by being more excellent in his poetry. The third of the patented -laureates, Dryden, if he loved convivial nights, loved to spend them -as Jonson did, in “noble society.” Speaking of the Roman poets of the -Augustan age, he says:--“They imitated the best way of living, which -was, to pursue an innocent and inoffensive pleasure; that which one -of the ancients called ‘eruditam voluptatem.’ We have, like them, -our genial nights, where our discourse is neither too serious nor -too light, but always pleasant, and for the most part instructive; -the raillery neither too sharp upon the present, nor too censorious -on the absent; and the cups only such as will raise the conversation -of the night, without disturbing the business of the morrow.” The -genial nights, however, were not always so delightfully Elysian and -æsthetic. When Rochester suspected Dryden of being the author of the -“Essay on Satire,” which was really written by Lord Mulgrave, and -which was offensive to Rochester, the latter took a very unpoetical -revenge. As Dryden was returning from his _erudite voluptes_ at Wills’, -and was passing through Rose-street, Covent Garden, to his house in -Gerrard-street, he was waylaid and severely beaten, by ruffians who -were believed to be in the pay of Rochester. The conversation of _that_ -night certainly _must_ have disturbed the business of the morrow! - -And next we come to hasty Shadwell, who may be summarily dismissed -with the remark that he was addicted to sensual indulgence, and to any -company that promised good wine, and plenty of it. Poor Nahum Tate, -too, is described as “a free and fuddling companion;” but the miserable -man had gone through more fiery trials than genial nights. Of Rowe, -the contrary may be said. He was the great diner-out of his day; always -vivacious, dashing, gay, good-humoured, and habitually generous, -whether drunk or sober. He was but a poor poet, but he was succeeded -by one who wrote worse and drank more--Eusden, of whom Gray writes to -Mason that he “was a person of great hopes in his youth, though at -last he turned out a drunken parson.” Cibber loved the bottle quite -as intensely as Eusden did, and he was a gambler to boot; but there -were some good points about Colley, although Pope has so bemauled him. -Posterity has used Cibber as his eccentric daughter did when he went to -her fish-stall to remonstrate with her against bringing disgrace upon -his family by her adoption of such a course: the affectionate Charlotte -caught up a stinking sole, and smacked her sire’s face with it; but -Colley wiped his cheek, went home, and got drunk to prove that he was -a gentleman. With heavy Whitehead we first fall in with indisputable -respectability. He sipped his port, a pensioner at Lord Jersey’s table, -and wrote classical tragedies, for which I heartily forgive him, -because they are deservedly forgotten. His successor, slovenly Warton, -exulted over his college wine with the gobble of a turkey-cock; and -then came Pye, with his pleasant conviviality and his warlike strains, -which “roared like a sucking dove,” and put to sleep the militia, which -it was hoped they would have aroused. Pye was of the time of “Pindar, -Pye, and Parvus Pybus;” and it was during his tenure of office that -the tierce of Canary was discontinued, and the 27_l._ substituted. -With Southey, a dignity was given to the laureateship, which it had, -perhaps, never before enjoyed; and the poetic mantle fell on worthy -shoulders, when it covered those of the gentle Wordsworth. Not that -Wordsworth never was drunk. The bard of Rydal Mount _was_ once in his -life “full of the god;” but he was drunk with strong enthusiasm too, -and the occasion excused, if it did not sanctify the deed. The story is -well told by De Quincey, and it runs thus:-- - -“For the first time in his life, Wordsworth became inebriated at -Cambridge. It is but fair to add, that the first time was also the last -time. But perhaps the strangest part of the story is the occasion of -this drunkenness, which was the celebration of the first visit to the -very rooms at Christ College once occupied by Milton,--intoxication by -way of homage to the most temperate of men, and this homage offered -by one who has turned out himself to the full as temperate! Every -man, in the mean time, who is not a churl, must grant a privilege and -charter of large enthusiasm to such an occasion; and an older man than -Wordsworth, at that era not fully nineteen, and a man even without a -poet’s blood in his veins, might have leave to forget his sobriety -in such circumstances. Beside which, after all, I have heard from -Wordsworth’s own lips that he was not too far gone to attend chapel -decorously during the very acme of his elevation!” - -De Quincey has told how pleasant, and cheerful, and conversational was -the tea-time at Wordsworth’s table; and there, no doubt, the poet was -far more, so to speak, in his element than when in the neighbourhood -of wine, whose aid was not needed by him to elevate his conversation. -But Wordsworth, gentle as he was, had nothing in him of the squire -of dames, whom he generally treated with as much indifference as the -present laureate, Tennison, was once said to feel for those very -poetical little mortals,--children. And here I end the record of a -few table traits of the patented laureates, adding no more of the -fourteenth and last, that is, the present vice-Apollo to the Queen, -than that he has said of his own tastes and locality to enjoy them in, -in Will Waterproof’s Lyrical Monologue, made at the Cock,-- - - “O plump head waiter at ‘The Cock,’ - To which I most resort, - How goes the time? ’Tis five o’clock. - Go fetch a pint of port. - - “But let it not be such as that - You set before chance-comers, - But such whose father-grape grew fat - On Lusitanian summers.” - -And now all things must have an end; and the end of pleasure is like -the end of life,--weariness, satiety, and regret; and the end of a -well-spent day is _not_ of that complexion, for its name should be -“supper,” without which, however, a man had better go to bed, than with -it and arise in debt. But, as the moral does not apply to us, you and -I, Reader, if you will venture further with so indifferent a companion, -will go hand in hand, before we finally separate. - - - - -SUPPER. - - -The supper was the only recognised repast in Rome; if, indeed, we may -call that supper which sometimes took place at three in the afternoon. -It was then rather a dinner, after which properly educated persons -would not, and those who had supped over freely could not, eat again -on the same day. The early supper hour was favoured by those who -intended to remain long at table. “Imperat extructos frangere nona -toros,” says Martial. The more frugal, but they must also have been the -more hungry, supped, like the Queen of Carthage, at sunset; “labente -die convivia quærit.” All other repasts than this had no allotted -hour; each person followed inclination or necessity, and there was no -difference in the _jentaculum_, the _prandium_, or the _merenda_,--the -breakfast, dinner, or collation,--save difference of time. Bread, dried -fruits, and perhaps honey, were alone eaten at these simple meals; -whereat too, some, like Marius, drank before supper-time, “the genial -hour for drinking.” The hosts were, in earlier ages, cooks as well as -entertainers. Patroclus was famous for his Olla Podrida, and a Roman -general received the Samnite ambassadors in a room where he was boiling -turnips for his supper! - -Sunset, however, was the _ordinary_ supper-time amongst the Romans. -“De vespere suo vivere,” in Plautus, alludes to this. In the time of -Horace, ten o’clock was not an unusual hour, and men of business supped -even later. At the period of the decadence of the empire, it was the -fashion to go to the baths at eight, and sup at nine. The repasts which -commenced earlier than this were called _tempestiva_, as lasting a -longer time. Those which began by daylight--_de die_--had a dissolute -reputation; “ad amicam de die potare,” is a phrase employed in the -_Asinaria_ to illustrate the great depravity of him to whom it is -applied. - -There is no doubt, I think, in spite of what critics say, that, however -it may have been with the Romans, the Greeks certainly had four repasts -every day. There was the breakfast (άκφκάτισμα), the dinner (ἄριστον), -the collation (ἑσπέρισμα), and the chief of all, despite the term for -dinner, the supper (δεῖπνον). - -Among the Romans the _Cœna adventitia_ was the name given to suppers -whereat the return of travellers to their homes was celebrated; the -_Cœna popularis_ was simply a public repast, given to the people by the -government; the _terrestris cœna_ was, as Hegio describes it in the -_Captivei_, a supper of herbs, _multis oleribus_. The Greeks called -such “a bloodless supper.” The parasite, in Athenæus, says that when he -is going to a house to supper, he does not trouble himself to gaze at -the architectural beauties of the mansion, nor the magnificence of the -furniture, but at the smoke of the chimney. If it ascends in a thick -column, he knows there is certainty of good cheer; but if it is a poor -thread of smoke, says he, why then I know that there is no blood in the -supper that is preparing: τὸ δεῖπνον ἀλλ’ οὐδ’ αἷμα ἔχει. - -These repasts were gay enough when there was good Chian wine, -unmixed with sea-water, to set the wit going. The banquets of Laïs -were probably the most brilliant ever seen in Greece, for there was -abundance of sprightly intellect at them. It might be said of them, as -Sidney Smith says of what used to be in Paris under the ancient régime, -when “a few women of brilliant talents violated all the common duties -of life, and gave very pleasant little suppers.” - -It is a well-ascertained fact that when the Greeks gave great -entertainments, and got tipsy thereat, it was for pious reasons. -They drank deeply in honour of some god. They not only drank deeply, -but progressively so; their last cup at parting was the largest, and -it went by the terrible name of the Cup of Necessity. There was a -headache of twenty-anguish power at the bottom of it. Their pic-nic -and conversation suppers were not bad things. Every guest brought his -own rations in a basket; but as the rich and the selfish used to shame -and tantalise the poorer guests by their savoury displays, Socrates, -that dreadfully didactic personage, imperious as Beau Nash in matters -of social discipline, insisted, that what each guest brought should be -common to all. The result was less show and more comfort. But I would -not have liked to have supped where Socrates was in the chair, for, in -spite of his talents, he was a horrid bore, watching what and how each -guest ate, and speaking to or at him whenever his acute eye discovered -a rent in the coat of his good manners. If he sometimes said good -things, he as frequently said sharp ones; and where he was president, -the guests were simply at school. - -It is indeed seldom that the sages are desirable associates. “Come and -sup with me next Thursday,” said a French Amphitryon to a friend. “You -shall meet philosophers or literary men; take your choice.” “My choice -is soon made,” was the reply; “I will sup twice with you.” It was so -arranged, and the supper with the _literati_ was incomparably the -better banquet of the two. - -The supper was the great meal of the Greeks; but neither at this, nor -at any other repast, does Homer ever make mention of boiled meat. -The Greeks, then, were not like our poor Greenwich pensioners, who, -up to the present time, have never been provided with meat cooked -in any other way. The result is that the men themselves look as if -they were half-boiled. But a new order of things, including ovens and -baked joints, has been introduced into the kitchen and refectory of -the hospital, and the ancient mariners will soon show the effects of -variety in diet and cooking, by a healthier and a happier hue on their -solemn and storm-beaten cheeks. - -And this matter of boiled meat reminds me of the old Duke of Grafton, -who never ate any thing else at dinner or supper, (for it was in the -days of double meals,) but boiled mutton. Yet every day the cook was -solemnly summoned to his grace’s side, to listen to orders which he -knew by heart, and instructions which wearied while they vexed his -spirits. The duke must have been of the saddened constitution which -would have entitled him to sup with that nervous Duke of Marlborough, -who always joined with his invitation a request that his guest would -say or do nothing to make him laugh, as his grace could not bear -excitement. - -At the supper-table the Romans did not decline the flesh of the ass, -nor that of the dog; and they were as fond of finely fatted snails as -the southern Germans are, who have inherited their taste. Macrobius, -describing the supper given by the epicurean pontiff Lentulus, in -honour of his reception, says that the first course was composed -of sea hedgehogs, oysters, and asparagus. After these provocatives -came a second course, consisting of more oysters, and various other -shell-fish, fat pullets, beccaficoes, venison, wild boar, and sea -nettles,--to digest the marine hedgehogs, I suppose. The third course -assumed a more civilized aspect, and the guests were only tempted -by fish, fowl, game, and cakes from the Ancona marshes. There is a -supper of Lentulus, as described by Becker. The supper was given to -Gallus, and the account of it is so little exaggerated as to afford -a tolerably correct idea of what those banquets were. Nine guests, -two of them “gentlemen from Perusia,” occupied the _triclinium_. The -pictures around represented satyrs celebrating the joyous vintage; -the death of the boar; fruit and provision pieces over the door, and -similar designs, calculated to awaken a relish for the banquet, were -suspended between the elegant branches occupied by living thrushes. -The lowest place in the middle sofa was the seat for the most honoured -guest. As soon as all were in a reclining posture, the attendant slaves -took off their sandals, and water in silver basins was carried round by -good-looking youths, and therewith the visitors performed their brief -ablutions. At a nod from the host, two servants deposited the tray -bearing the dishes of the first course in the centre of the table. The -chief ornament of this tray, which was adorned with tortoise-shell, -was a bronze ass, whose panniers were filled with olives, and on whose -back rode a Silenus, whose pores exuded a sauce which fell upon the -roast breast of a sow that had never fulfilled a mother’s duty, below. -Sausages on silver gridirons, with Syrian plums and pomegranate seeds -beneath them to simulate fire; and dishes, also of silver, containing -various vegetables, shell-fish, snails, and a reptile or two, formed -the other delicacies of this course. While the guests addressed -themselves thereto, they were supplied with a beverage composed of -wines and honey scientifically commingled. The glory of the first -course was, however, the carved figure of the brooding hen, which was -brought in on a separate small tray. The eggs taken from beneath her -were offered to the guests, who found the apparent eggs made of dough, -on breaking which with the spoon, a fat figpecker was seen lying in the -pepper-seasoned yolk, and strongly tempting the beholder to eat. This -delicacy, was, of course, readily eaten, and _mulsum_, the mixture -of Hymettian honey and Falernian wines, was copiously drunk to aid -digestion. A good deal of wine was imbibed, and numerous witch stories -told (a favourite supper pastime), between and during the courses, at -which the dishes were more and more elaborate and fantastic. A vast -swine succeeded to a wild boar at the supper of Lentulus, who affecting -to be enraged at his cook for forgetting to disembowel the animal -before preparing it for the table, that official feigns to tremble with -the energy of his repentance, and forthwith proceeds to perform the -office of gutting the animal in presence of the guests. He plunges his -knife into its flanks, when there immediately issues from the gaping -wound string after string of little sausages. The conclusion of the -supper is thus told:--“The eyes of the guest were suddenly attracted to -the ceiling by a noise overhead; the ceiling opened, and a large silver -hoop, on which were ointment bottles of silver and alabaster, silver -garlands with beautifully chiselled leaves, and circlets and other -trifles, descended upon the table; and after the dessert, prepared -by the new baker, whom Lentulus purchased for a hundred thousand -sesterces, had been served up, the party rose, to meet again in the -brilliant saloon, the intervening moments being spent, by some in -sauntering along the colonnades, and by others in taking a bath.” - -In the description of the supper given by Siba to celebrate the -return of Nero to Rome, we find that the slaves, when they took off -the sandals of the guests, supplied them with others of a lighter -description, which were fastened by crossed ribands. Those who did not -come in “dress,” were furnished with variegated woollen vestments to -cover their togas. Siba’s banquet began to the sound of a hydraulic -organ, which, however, was only in place of our dinner-bell. When the -lime-wood tables were duly covered and flowered, the guests took their -places to the sound of flutes and harps, and said a sort of _grace_, -by invoking Jupiter; while a modest libation of wine was cast on the -floor in honour of the household gods. The first course consisted of -some remarkably strange dishes, but the guests reserved their appetite, -or provoked it with pickled radishes, fried grasshoppers, and similar -cattle. A master of drinking was then chosen, whose duty it was to -regulate how often the guests should drink; and the latter invariably -selected the most confirmed toper. _We_ leave this office to the master -of the house, and in well-regulated families that high official leaves -his guests to do according to their good pleasure. The garlands having -been duly encircled round the brows of Siba’s friends, the trumpets -announced the entrance of the second course. The second course was -duly discussed, its extraordinary dishes thoroughly consumed, and the -four cups were drained to Nero; being the number of letters in his -name; and a good deal of jollity began to abound, which was checked -a little by the arrival of a present from the emperor, sent to Siba, -and which consisted of a silver skeleton. As the guests feared to -interpret the meaning of the gift they fell to deeper drinking, and -then to singing, and philosophising; and then resumed their eating; -and when the force of nature could no further go, they called in the -jugglers, and tumblers, and buffoons, and puppets, and having drawn as -much amusement from these as they possibly could, they whipped up their -flagging sensations by looking at the feats of Spanish dancing girls, -and these were succeeded by ten couple of gladiators, who slew one -another in the apartment for the pastime of the supremely indifferent -personages who lay half asleep and half drunk, and lazily applauded the -murderous play. The company were in the very midst of this innocent -amusement when the fire was lit up in Rome by Nero, and which did not -spare the mansion of Siba. The struggle to escape was not more furious -and selfish than that which took place at Prince Schwartzenberg’s ball -in Paris, at which the devouring flames had as little respect for some -of the guests as they had at the terrible supper of Caius Siba. - -It may be said that civilization never afforded such examples of -deformed appetites as some of those which we find in the records of -the olden time. But this is not the case. They are fewer; but they -_do_ exist. We read in the modern history of Germany, that a man with -an uncontrollable appetite for bacon once presented himself at the -tent where Charles Gustavus was supping, before Prague, which he was -besieging. The man was a boor, and had sought access to the king, to -ask permission to perform before him a feat which he boasted of being -able to accomplish,--namely, devour a whole hog. General Koenigsmark, -who was present, and was very superstitious, warned the king not to -listen to a being who, if not the devil, was probably leagued with him. -“I’ll tell you what it is, and please your Majesty,” said the boor, “if -you will but make that old gentleman take off his sword and spurs, I’ll -eat him before I begin with the hog!” The general was no coward; but he -took to his heels, as though the man were serious, and left the king to -enjoy what pleasure he might from seeing a peasant eat a whole pig. - -In Africa, the rustics eat something smaller than pigs for supper. When -Cailli was in that quarter of the world, a Bambere woman gave him some -yams, and what he thought was gambo sauce, to make them palatable. On -dipping his yams therein, however, he saw some little paws, and at -once knew that it was the famous mouse-sauce; but he was hungry, and -continued his repast. He often subsequently saw the women chopping up -mice for their suppers. When the animals were caught, they were singed -over a fire, put by for a week, and then cooked. A hungry man _might_ -eat thereof without loathing. We have all partaken of far less clean -animals. - -It is commonly said that the time of the evening meal is the very hour -for wit. I do not know how this may be, but Souwarow’s wit appears -to have been uncommonly alert at supper-time. When he returned from -his Italian campaign to St. Petersburg, in 1799, the Emperor Paul -sent Count Kontaissow to compliment him on his arrival. The count -had been originally a Circassian slave, and _valet_ to Paul, who had -successively raised him to the ranks of equerry, baron, and count. The -Circassian _parvenu_ found the old warrior at supper. “Excuse me,” said -Souwarow, pausing in his meal, “I cannot recall the origin of your -illustrious family. Doubtless your valour in battle procured for you -your dignity as count.” “Well, no,” said the ex-valet, “I have never -been in battle.” “Ah! perhaps you have been attached to an embassy?” -“No.” “To a ministerial office then?” “That neither.” “What important -post, _then_, have you occupied?”--“I have been valet-de-chambre to -the emperor,” “Oh, indeed,” said the veteran leader, laying down his -spoon, and calling aloud for his own valet, Troschka. “Here, you -villain,” said he, as the latter appeared, “I tell you daily to leave -off drinking and thieving, and you never listen to me. Now, look at -this gentleman here. He was a valet like you; but being neither sot -nor thief, he is now grand equerry to his majesty, knight of all -the Russian orders, and count of the empire. Go, sirrah, follow his -example, and you will have more titles than your master; who requires -nothing just now, but to be left alone to finish his supper!” - -It was at Paris, however, that the evening hour was generally accounted -as the peculiar season of wit; but wit, often too daring at such an -hour, sometimes got chastised for its over-boldness. - -At one of the _petits soupers_ of Paris, in this olden time, when wit -and philosophy had temporarily dethroned religion, a little abbé, -who had the air of a full-grown Cupid in a semi-clerical disguise, -or who was like Rose Pomaponne in a carnival suit at the Courtille, -took upon himself to amuse the assembled company with stories intended -to ridicule the old-fashioned faith, (as the philosophers styled -Christianity,) and its professors. He was particularly comic on -the subject of hell and eternal punishments, upon which questions -he dilated with a fulness that would have scarcely edified either -Professor Maurice or Dr. Jelf. The whole of the amiable society -exploded in inextinguishable laughter at hearing this villanous abbé -speak of hell itself as his “feu de joie!” There was, however, one -face there that bore upon it no traces of a smile. It was that of an -old marechal-de-camp, who might have said, like the old beadle of St. -Mary’s, Oxford, “I have held this office, sir, for more than thirty -years, and, thank heaven, I am a Christian yet!” Well, the old maréchal -frowned as, looking at the infidel abbé, he remarked, “I see very -plainly, sir, by your uniform, to what regiment you belong, but it -seems to me that you must be a deserter.” “My dear maréchal,” answered -the profligate priest, with a beaming smile, “it may indeed be a little -as you say, but then, you see, I do not hold in my troop the rank which -you enjoy in yours. I am not a marechal-de-camp!” “Parbleu,” rejoined -the old soldier, “you never could have reached such a rank, for, to -judge by your conduct and sentiment, you would have been hanged long -before your chance came for promotion.” - -At the _soupers_ of Paris, however, there were few men who were of the -character of our marechal-de-camp. Bungener, in his “Voltaire et son -Temps,” illustrates the confusion into which men’s ideas had got upon -the subject of things spiritual and things temporal, by noticing the -affair of the Chevalier de la Barre, in 1766. Amid the accusations -brought against him was one, according to which it was laid to his -charge that he had recited in public a certain filthy ode. He was -condemned to be broken on the wheel, on charges of irreligion, of which -this was one. But the part of the question that must have made Astræa -weep through the bandage with which poets have bound her eyes, was -this, namely, that the author of the obscene ode objected to, Piron, -was then in the reception of a pension from the court; and this pension -had been procured for him by Montesquieu, by way of compensation -for his having lost his seat at the Academy, in consequence of his -having been the author of this very ode. This confusion of rewards -and penalties was enough to make Justice dash her brains out with -her own scales. Piron would have been in no wise troubled by such a -catastrophe; the pension from the court enabled him to keep a joyous -table, and that was enough for him. - -Duclos was a contemporary and a co-disciple with Piron, in the temple -of philosophy. In 1766, he was at Rome, where he gave such charming -little suppers, that the Sacred College gratefully extended to him the -privileged permission of reading improper books! The philosophers were -then in possession of considerable influence. Marmontel, who was one -of them, was sent to the Bastille, on a certain Friday, in the year -1760. Soon after his arrival, he was supplied with an excellent dinner -_maigre_, the which he ate without thinking of complaining. His servant -was just on the point of addressing himself to the scanty remains, when -lo! an admirable but somewhat irreligious repast, of meat and other -things which come under the denomination of _gras_, and are therefore -forbidden on fast-days, was brought in. The unorthodox banquet was -intended for Marmontel; the more lenten fare was intended for his -servant. For in those days, although philosophers were sent to prison, -their appetites were left to their heretical freedom. - -This liberty was allowed by the state, but it was neither sanctioned -nor practised by the Church. The authority of the latter was great -previous to the Revolution. There was then a clerical police, which -looked into the dishes as well as the consciences of the people--of -all degrees. I have somewhere read of a body of this police coming -in collision, during Lent, with the officers of the household of -the Prince of Conti, who were conveying through the streets, from a -neighbouring _rotisseur’s_ to the ducal palace, a supper, through the -covers of which there penetrated an odour which savoured strongly of -something succulent and sinful, of gravy and gravity. Thereupon the -archbishop’s alguazils bade the prince’s men stand and deliver. The -followers of the house of Conti drew their swords in defence of their -rights and sauces. Much of the latter on the side of Conti, and a -little malapert blood on both sides, was spilt, to the edification of -the standers by. Finally, the transgressors of the Church law were -dragged to prison. The damaged repast remained on the pavé, for the -benefit of poor souls who assumed ecclesiastical licence to devour it -without fear of damnation; and the servants of Conti were left in damp -cells to meditate at their leisure upon the argument which Dean Swift -at another period had thus cast into verse:-- - - “Who can declare, with common sense, - That bacon fried gives God offence? - Or that a herring hath the charm - Almighty vengeance to disarm? - Wrapt up in Majesty divine, - Doth He regard on what we dine?” - -To pass from cooks and church to courtesy and coachmen, I may here -speak of a certain Girard who was known in Paris, during the Terror, -for his love of what he called liberty and good living. In his early -days he was a very independent coachman, and was just on the point of -concluding an engagement with an aristocratic old countess, when he -remarked--“Before I finally close with madame, I should like to be -informed for whom madame’s horses are to make way in the streets.” -“For every one,” said the countess. “On questions of precedence, I am -not difficult; if it is yielded to me, I take it; if not, I wait.” “In -that case,” said the aristocratic John, “I shall not suit, madame, as -I myself never draw aside except for the princes of the blood!” Now -this great personage in livery was no other than the Girard who became, -in 1793, the “public accuser,” and who sent to the scaffold those same -nobles who had not been sufficiently noble for him in 1780. - -Upon the matter of what became nobility, however, there was always -much confusion in the “aristocratic idea” of the highest continental -families. Thus who, in contemplating the famous Princess des Ursins, -seated among the most honoured at the table of the King of Spain, would -dream of her writing the following sentence in one of her letters to -Madame de Maintenon? “It is I who have the honour of taking from his -majesty his _robe de chambre_, when he gets into bed; and I am there to -give it to him again, with his slippers, when he rises in the morning.” - -The flattery paid to royalty in France was never more prodigally -offered than at the period when “wit and philosophy” were beginning to -undermine the throne. We have an instance of this in what happened when -the queen of Louis XV. arrived, in 1765, at Ferté-sous-Jouarre, where -she intended to sup and sleep. She was met beneath an avenue of trees, -outside the town, by the authorities, who offered to her, according to -custom, bread and wine. The queen took a portion of the bread, broke -it in two, and ate thereof, as well as of some grapes, sipping also the -wine; to the delight and edification of the admiring multitude. The -authorities were so struck by the act of condescension on the part of -the royal personage, that they made record of the fact in the register -of the town council. And this they did in such terms as to cause a -commentator to remark, that they could hardly have said more, had her -majesty been a genuine goddess. - -After all, this sort of homage had fallen off, in 1765, from what it -had been two centuries before. When Louis XII. encountered his bride, -Mary of England, outside Abbeville, he clapped his feeble hands, and -wished the devil might seize him (and he _did_ die soon after) if she -were not more beautiful than report had painted her! At the gates of -Abbeville, the ill-assorted pair were met by the Bishop of Amiens and -the municipal magistrates, to welcome them to the evening banquet ere -they betook themselves to repose. The bishop presented the new Queen of -France with a piece of the Real Cross. “The _mayeurs_ offered a gift, -the nature of which brings it within my subject.” The gift was usual -whenever king and queen appeared at the portals of the old monkish -city. It consisted of three tuns of wine, three fat oxen, and fifteen -quarters of oats, three pecks of which were presented to the astonished -lady on bended knee, and in a measure painted light blue, and covered -with golden fleurs-de-lys. A complimentary address to the king crowned -all. “Sire,” said the chief local magistrate, “you may now conclude -your marriage in this our good city, without any fear of committing sin -thereby; for, in the year 1409 were reformed, as abuses, those synodal -statutes by which men in our city were forbidden to live with their -wives, during three whole mortal days after the wedding!” The monarch -entered and sat down with his consort to a repast which rendered -both ill for more than double the period just mentioned. Louis had -well-nigh died, like La Matrie, the infidel philosopher at Berlin, of -an indigestion. Had he done so, it might have been said of him, as the -infidel Prussian king said of La Matrie: “He was a _gourmand_, but he -died like a philosopher; let us have no more anxiety about him.” - -Frederic himself loved philosophy more than faith, and philosophical -though profligate kings, more than he did “Most Christian” or “Most -Catholic” monarchs. He was wont, therefore, to laugh at the story -of the famished beggar who, standing near the statue of Henri IV. -on the Pont Neuf, solicited charity of a friend of Voltaire who was -passing by. “In the name of God,” said the mendicant. The student of -philosophy was deaf. “In the name of the Holy Virgin!”--“In the name -of the saints!” The appeal was unheeded. “In the name of Henri IV!” -exclaimed the petitioned; and forthwith the Voltairean put his hand -in his pocket, giving a crown-piece, in the name of a philosophical -profligate, while he refused a sou when asked for in the name of God. -But, as Frederic used to say, “How divine is philosophy!” In his mouth -the exclamation was like the well-known cry of Marcel, the ecstatic -dancing-master: “Que de choses dans un minuit!” - -There is a story told in connexion with this same great Frederic -which is a good table trait in its way. Joachim von Ziethen was one -of the bravest of the generals who stood by Frederic the Great in -victory or defeat. He was the son of a poor gentleman, and had little -education save what he could pick up in barracks, camps, and battle -fields, in all of which he figured in early youth. If his head was -not over-ballasted with learning, his heart was well freighted with -that love for God, of which some portion, as the dismissed lecturer -on Ecclesiastical History in King’s College tells us, is in almost -every individual without exception, and forms the sheet-anchor which -shall enable him to ride through the storms which keep him from his -desired haven of rest. He became the terror of the foes of Prussia; -but among his comrades, he was known only as “good father Ziethen.” -He was remarkable for his swiftness at once of resolve and execution, -and in remembrance as well as illustration thereof, a sudden surprise -is spoken of by an astonished Prussian as “falling on one like Ziethen -from an ambush.” - -Now, old Ziethen, after the triumph achieved in the Seven Years’ War, -was always a welcome guest at the table of Frederic the Second. His -place was ever by the side of the royal master whose cause he had more -than once saved from ruin; and he only sat lower at table when there -happened to be present some foreign royal mediocrity, illustriously -obscure. On one occasion, he received a command to dine with the king -on Good Friday. Ziethen sent a messenger to his sovereign, stating that -it was impossible for him to wait on his majesty, inasmuch as that -he made a point of never omitting to take the sacrament on that day, -and of always spending the subsequent portion of the day in private -meditation. - -A week elapsed before the scrupulous old soldier was again invited -to the royal dinner-table. At length he appeared in his old place, -and merry were the guests, the king himself setting an example of -uproarious hilarity. The fun was running fast and furious,--it was -at its very loudest, when Frederic, turning to Ziethen, smacked him -familiarly on the back, and exclaimed, “Well, grave old Ziethen! how -did the supper of Good Friday agree with your sanctimonious stomach? -Have you properly digested the veritable body and blood?” At this -blasphemy, and amid the thunders of pealing laughter, the saluting -artillery of the delighted guests, Ziethen leaped to his feet, and -after shaking his grey hairs with indignation, and silencing the -revellers with a cry, as though they had been dogs, he turned to the -godless master of the realm, and said--words, if not precisely these, -certainly and exactly to this effect:-- - -“I shun no danger;--your majesty knows it. My life has been always -ready for sacrifice, when my country and the throne required it. What -I was, _that_ I am; and my head I would place on the block at this -moment, if the striking of it off could purchase happiness for my -king. But there is One who is greater than I, or any one here; and -He is a greater sovereign than you who mock Him here from the throne -in Berlin. He it is whose precious blood was shed for the salvation -of all mankind. On Him, that Holy One, my faith reposes: He is my -consoler in life, my hope in presence of death; and I _will not_ suffer -His name to be derided and attacked where I am by, and have voice to -protest against it. Sir, if your soldiers had not been firm in this -faith, they would not have gained victories for you. If you mock this -faith, and jeer at those who cling to it, you only lend a hand to bury -yourself and the state in ruin.” After a pause he added, looking the -while on the mute king:--“What I have spoken is God’s truth; receive it -graciously.” - -Frederic was the patron of Voltaire, who had dared to say at his own -table that what it had taken God and twelve Apostles to build up, one -man (Voltaire) would destroy. But Frederic was now, for the moment, -more deeply moved by what had been uttered by the unphilosophical -Ziethen than by anything that had ever fallen from the brilliant but -irreligious Voltaire. He rose, flung his left arm over Ziethen’s -shoulder, offered his right hand to the brave old Christian general, -and exclaimed:--“Ziethen, you are a happy man! Would that I could be -like you! Hold fast by your faith; and I will respect even where I -cannot believe. What has occurred shall never happen again.” - -A deep and solemn silence followed, and the dinner was spoiled, -according to the guests, to whom the king gave the signal to disperse -long before their appetites had been satisfied. Ziethen was preparing -to withdraw with the rest, but Frederic, taking him by the hand, -whispered:--“You, my friend, come with me to my cabinet.” - -This anecdote was told by Bishop von Eylert to Frederic William III. -That king, who had never heard of the incident, pronounced on it a -three-piled eulogium of “excellent, pleasing, and instructive,” adding -thereto a natural desire to know what passed between the king and -Ziethen in the cabinet. It were doubtless well worth knowing, but I -have sought for any notice of it, and all in vain. The good bishop, as -he deserved, was invited to remain at Sans Souci, to supper. “I excused -myself,” says the prelate, in his memoir of the king, “as having only a -common upper coat on.” The king replied, smilingly, “I know very well -that you have got a dollar and a dress-coat; you are the same person in -either. I want _you_, not your coat; so, go in.” - -The Prussian soldiers, in the days of the great Frederic, used to be -allowed unlimited liberty in providing themselves with food in an -enemy’s country. The like permission, but somewhat enlarged, was given -to the Croat soldiers, under the name of foraging for “supper;” but -in that permission they included every meal. They are as ready at it -as Abyssinians; they cut a slice out of the first beast they fall in -with, salt it, put it between the saddle and the horse’s back, gallop -till it gets warm, and then eat it with Croat appetite. The sportsmen -of Dauphiny eat beccaficoes after much the same fashion; they pluck -the bird, sprinkle it with pepper and salt, carry it on their hat to -dry in the air, and eat it with relish for supper, without any further -cooking. They declare it is far better so than when roasted. - -Celebrated as the “petits soupers” of the French were during the last -century, they were equalled in brilliancy, and perhaps surpassed in -popularity, by those given in Paris by the Duchess of Kingston. The -adventures of that very adventurous lady rendered her a favourite with -our lively neighbours. When a rustic Devonshire beauty,--wayward, -capricious, ignorant, and seductive, Elizabeth Chudleigh was suddenly -transplanted to the court of the Princess of Wales, as maid of honour. -She there captivated the youthful Duke of Hamilton, returned his -affection, and accepted the offer of his hand. They loved intensely, -quarrelled furiously, and were reconciled warmly; the enemies of both -toiled incessantly to prevent the marriage, and each was daily told of -the alleged infidelities of the other. One of these stories excited -the ardent beauty to such rage that she dismissed her ducal lover, -and in the whirlwind of her wrath gave her hand to Captain Hervey, -brother of the Earl of Bristol. She married in haste, and repented -quite as hastily. She hated her husband before they left the church -together; and after six months of the most active domestic warfare, -the ill-assorted pair separated by mutual consent. She went abroad to -find solace for her disappointment, and was heartily welcomed at the -courts of St. Petersburg, Prussia, and Saxony; she was the favoured -guest of Catherine II., and of the great Frederic, at Berlin; and -no electoral banquet took place at Dresden without being enlivened -by her presence and her wit. When she accepted the invitation to -resume her place at the English court, the reception she met with was -enthusiastic: she played whist with the men, and she drove four-in-hand -as if she had been the born daughter of a charioteer, brought up to her -father’s business. Her accomplishments won the heart of the simplest -of dukes and the gentlest of men, his grace of Kingston, and as an -ecclesiastical court, in 1769, pronounced her marriage with Captain -Hervey (now Earl of Bristol) null and void, she speedily espoused her -ducal admirer, while her former husband bestowed an earl’s coronet -on a second wife. The duke’s property was not entailed, and the -duchess spent it with such reckless prodigality, that his grace was -fairly frightened into consumption and death; and in 1773 she was a -beautiful widow, with the large remnant of the duke’s fortune in her -possession--as long as she did not marry again. Away she went to Rome, -sailed up the Tiber in her own yacht, entertained the pope (Ganganelli) -Clement XIV. at breakfast, dinner, and supper, and kept up such a state -that the world had never beheld such extravagant splendour since the -days of the most profuse and profligate of queens: the heirs of the -duke, seeing their inheritance fast melting away, instituted against -her the famous suit for bigamy, on the ground that the ecclesiastical -court which broke her first marriage had no power to do so. To meet her -accusers she hurried to England, where she considerably startled the -modest among our grandmothers by her Sunday amusements, and the daily -display afforded by the very lowest of dresses. But as she gave most -splendid dinners she had no lack of friends, and few men could find it -in their hearts to abandon a woman in distress, whose kitchen fires -were never extinguished, who gave her guests green peas at Christmas, -and whose commonest beverage was imperial tokay. The House of Lords -judged her case, heard her defence, and pronounced her second marriage -bigamy by overthrowing the decree of the ecclesiastical court with -regard to her first union. To avoid the vulgar penalty she immediately -fled, crossed the Channel in a storm, and proceeded to Munich, where -she was royally entertained, especially as the law could not touch the -property bequeathed her by the Duke of Kingston. The courtesy title of -duchess was still allowed her, and the Elector of Bavaria added to it -that of Countess of Warth. Great nobles gave entertainments in her -honour, which lasted, for days, and ended with a ball, a banquet, and, -instead of common-place fireworks, the storming of a town at midnight. -Poor nobles vied with each other for her smiles and the life-interest -of her possessions; but as she had once been nearly entrapped by a -Greek Prince Warta, who turned out to be the son of an ass-driver in -Trebizond, and who committed suicide in prison, she made and kept her -resolution to be her own mistress for the future, and not that of -either count or kaiser. - -In France, where she ultimately resided, she purchased the estate -of St. Assize au Port, which had formerly belonged to the Duke of -Orleans, the father of “Egalité.” She paid down a million and a half -of francs for it, and sold seven thousand francs’ worth of rabbits -from it, during the first week of her residence there. A fricasee of -the duchess’s rabbits was, for a long time, the chief dish at all -the _guinguettes_ round Paris. Her own great suppers were famous for -their refinement and luxury. She was a lover of good living, a GOURMET -rather than a GOURMANDE; an epicure of taste, but not a glutton; and -the gastronomic art never could boast of a more liberal patronage than -that she bestowed upon it, especially in her Paris residence; where her -table, her wit, her dinners, and her diamonds, made of her, for a time, -the most remarkable personage in the capital. She died suddenly, of the -rupture of a blood-vessel, in 1788, and was completely forgotten before -that year had also expired. - -I have mentioned that our eccentric countrywoman had purchased the -property of the Duke of Orleans; and that reminds me how fatal the -table, and particularly the supper-table, has been to the dukes of -that house. Thus Philippe, the brother of Louis XIV., quarrelled with -the latter touching the marriage which the king wished to conclude -between one of his own natural daughters and the duke’s son. Orleans, -fevered and flushed, went to sup “with the ladies of St. Cloud.” He -had not long before eaten heavily and drunk deeply at dinner; and at -this second meal he was fatally stricken with apoplexy. The king said -he was sorry, and having thus far given way to his grief, he sat down -with Madame de Maintenon to rehearse the overture of an opera. This -duke’s son and successor gave suppers, at which his infamous daughter, -the Duchess de Berri, presided, and admission to which was purchased -by the candidate making simple denial of his belief in a God! The fate -of both had something retributive in it. The Duchess de Berri, who had -privately married a profligate and ugly officer of her guards, named De -Riou, sought to overcome her father’s wrathful refusal to acknowledge -the union, by giving him a splendid supper _al-fresco_ on the terrace -of Meudon, on the 13th May, 1709. The evening proved cold and damp, and -the duchess caught there a fever brought on by a chill, over-feeding, -and deep drinking, of which she died. Fourteen years afterwards, the -sire who, at sixteen, had all the experience in vice of a man of sixty, -was dining with the Duchess of Phalaria, his last mistress, when he -was taken ill. The physician who was summoned enjoined abstinence -immediate and complete. “Wait till to-morrow,” said the duke, “I will -enjoy myself to-night.” And accordingly, the exemplary pair supped -together, and the lady was in the act of telling the duke one of her -lively stories. As she went on, the glass slid from his hand, and his -head sank upon her shoulder. She thought he was asleep, and went on -with her story; but he to whom she was telling it was stone-dead. The -son of the regent duke was in every respect unlike his father. He ate -_his_ last supper with the Jansenist fathers of the Geneviève,--symbol -of his general habits and the society he kept. _His_ son was the father -of _Egalité_, and at the time of his death (1785) was popular with the -lower classes at Paris for the nightly suppers which he distributed -to them, and which consisted of bread and wine, with medicine for -those who needed it. It was a distribution made not charitably, but -politically. Of the last meal of Egalité, before he went to execution, -I only know that it was a breakfast, and not a supper, and that he -both ate and drank heartily. Misfortune quite as little disturbed the -appetite of the Louis Philippe of our own days. During his flight from -Paris he never forgot the hour of supper or dinner; and when “William -Smith” landed at Newhaven, the first thing he asked for was--something -to eat. I notice these table traits, simply because the Orleanist -historians always speak contemptuously of Louis XVI. eating, with -appetite, in open court during his trial. The stomach of Orleans was -ever as ready as that of Bourbon. - -The supper has been called the conversational meal, but to make it -so in perfection it requires a thorough professor of the science of -conversation--one who knows that its very spirit consists less in being -a good talker himself than in flinging about suggestive matter to -induce others to converse upon. The host who understands the science -will so do this that his guests will be satisfied with themselves. -Some French writer has said, in reference to this after-supper gossip, -that it should be like a game at cards, at which each player does his -best,--but I do not endorse this sentiment to its fullest extent, -although I allow that there is something in it. The wise generally, -and dyspeptics especially, will do well to avoid political subjects -after supper; and perhaps there is no more comprehensive remark to be -made on this matter than one advanced by a follower of La Bruyère, -a minor moralist, who has said that “la confiance fournit plus à la -conversation que l’esprit ou l’érudition.” - -I recollect once seeing the dullest of evenings made suddenly bright -by an apt query modestly put by one who needed not to inquire, but who -quietly asked if anyone present could name the author of the line:-- - - “Fine by degrees, and beautifully less.” - -Many a wide guess was fired off prior to the successful naming. The -general opinion was in favour of Pope, and Pope has indeed written a -line very like it:-- - - “Fine by defect, and delicately weak.” - -The falling upon such coincidences are the very explosives of -after-supper discussions: thus, the very familiar line-- - - “Rides in the whirlwind, and directs the storm,” - -may be the text for a pretty dispute. It occurs in Addison’s -“Campaign,” and also in Pope’s “Dunciad.” The latter poet too has said-- - - “Ye little stars, hide your diminish’d rays;” - -but Milton, before him, had written-- - - “At whose sight all the stars - Hide their diminish’d heads.” - -Schiller’s “Thekla” warbles melodiously her melancholy assurance-- - - “Ich habe gelibt und geliebet;” - -and Byron’s “Sardanapalus,” equally used up, mutters with a faint sigh -the same words-- - - “I have lived and loved.” - -We all know who tells us that - - “Gospel light first beam’d from Boleyn’s eyes;” - -and Horace Walpole harped on the same tune, when he said-- - - “From Catherine’s wrongs a nation’s bliss was spread, - And Luther’s light from Henry’s lawless bed.” - -Gray and Moss, too, afford instances of like coincidences of sound or -sentiment, or both. The first, in his “Elegy,” has-- - - “And leaves the world to darkness and to me.” - -The second, in his “Beggar’s Petition,” sings to the same air-- - - “And left the world to wretchedness and me.” - -I have noticed, in a former page, how Gray’s line of - - “Dear as the light that visits these sad eyes,” - -must necessarily remind one of Shakspeare’s words, in the mouth of -Brutus-- - - “Dear as the drops that visit this sad heart.” - -Demosthenes has truly said-- - - Ἀνὴρ ὁ φεύγων καὶ πάλιν μαχήσεται, - -so that Sir John Minnes is not even the original author of the -Hudibrastically sounding assertion-- - - “He who fights and runs away, - May live to fight another day.” - -The lines in Hudibras are as the perfecting and comment on the above, -remarking as they do-- - - “For he that runs may fight again, - Which he can never do that’s slain.” - -These coincidences are, no doubt, unintentional. For my own part, I do -not believe that Shakspeare, when he spoke in Hamlet, of - - “The undiscover’d country, from whose bourne - No traveller returns,” - -necessarily had in his mind the - - “Qui nunc it per iter tenebricosum - Illuc unde negant redire quemquam,” - -of Catullus; although the latter lines were quoted by Seneca the -philosopher, and were as familiar as household words among the -verse-loving ancients. Dr. Johnson’s remark on the similarity between -Caliban’s desire to sleep again, and the πάλιν ἤθελον καθεύδειν of -Anacreon, may apply to nearly all the passages in our national poet -which appear to have been derived from the ancients. If we judged them -by any other rule than that the ideas presented themselves naturally to -Shakspeare’s mind, without consideration whether any one before him had -sung to the self-same tune, we might soon turn _his_, and indeed any -poet’s works, into a thing of shreds and patches. For instance, again, -when the young Dane describes Osric as “spacious in the possession -of dirt,” we might accuse the author, yet wrongfully, perhaps, of -having stolen the idea from the “multa dives tellure” of Horace. We -might imagine that the “Id in summa fortuna æquius quod validius,” of -Tacitus, gave birth to - - “That in the captain’s but a choleric word, - Which in the soldier is flat blasphemy,” - -of Shakspeare, who would have been very much surprised had he been told -as much. Again, Corneille, because he said, - - “Qui commence bien ne fait rien s’il n’achève,” - -is not to be accused of having written a pendant to the assertion of -Flaccus-- - - “Dimidium facti qui cœpit habet.” - -Neither has Beaumarchais rifled Otway, because “Désirer du bien à une -femme est ce vouloir du mal à son mari,” has a close resemblance to-- - - “I hope a man may wish his friend’s wife well, - And no harm done.” - -If mere close resemblance establish a charge of plagiarism, then -Chaucer, when in speaking of maidens dark or fair he said-- - - “Blake or white, I toke no kepe,” - -stole the thought from the ancient Irish bard, who said-- - - “Bohumilun a coolen dhuv no baun;” - -a line which Chaucer could not have read, though his own is a -literal translation of it. Examples like these I might go on citing -_ad infinitum_. As Rosalind says, I could quote you so eight years -together, dinners, and suppers, and sleeping hours excepted. But I -will conclude with one more case in point between a well-known English -author and the French dramatist Molière. Thus writes the one-- - - “What woful stuff this madrigal would be, - In some starved, hackney’d sonneteer, or me! - But let a lord once own the happy lines, - How the wit brightens and the style refines!” - -And thus sung the other-- - - “Tous les discours sont des sottises, - Partout, d’un homme sans éclat. - Ce seraient paroles exquises, - Si cé’tait un grand qui parla.” - -If this be digressing, it is because after-supper conversation _does_ -take a discursive character. In the last century, in Paris, the -majestic nonentities were invited to dinner; the talkers, be they who -they might, to supper. “La Robe dîne; Finance soupe,” was another of -these distinctions; and it was found that the supper was by far the -most agreeable meal of the day. The celebrated Duchess of Kingston -was especially celebrated for her Paris suppers. They were infinitely -more splendid than her English breakfasts, so pleasantly sneered at by -Horace Walpole. The wits assembled round her in gay clusters, and they -and the poets cudgelled their brains to prove one another plagiarists; -while the peers stood by, and marvelled at the extent and elasticity of -the human understanding. Nothing could well surpass the hilarity and -magnificence of these entertainments, where the philosophers were voted -as dull as the nobles, and no aristocracy was acknowledged but the -aristocracy of intellect. Another lady, remarkable for the elegance of -the little suppers over which she presided, was Madame Tronchin: but -the Reign of Terror came on, and her friends and relatives were daily -dragged from her to the guillotine; and Madame Tronchin, who had a most -feeling heart, used to say, that she never could have gone through such -horrors had it not been for her little cup of café à la crême. The -courtiers used to joke in like fashion, at the suppers of Versailles, -at national disgrace. When the Count d’Artois returned from the siege -of Gibraltar, to which he had gone with much boasting, and began to -talk of his batteries, the courtiers used to smile, and to whisper to -one another that he meant his “batterie de cuisine.” - -With regard to the dietetics of supper, it may be taken for granted -that late, heavy meals are dangerous, and to be avoided. Chymification -and sleep may go on tolerably well together after it; but when the time -comes for chylification and sanguification, feverish wakefulness will -accompany the process. Dyspeptic patients, however, are authorized to -take a light supper before going to bed. It is said that the idle man -is the devil’s man; and it may also be said of the stomach, that if it -has nothing to do it will be doing mischief. It is especially so with -persons of weak digestion; for whom an egg, lightly boiled, or dry -toast and a little white-wine negus, is a supper _selon l’ordinance_. -But a wise man will hardly want a guide in this matter. Breakfast may -be the meal of friendship; dinner, of etiquette; and supper, the feast -of wit;--but, generally speaking, he will show most wit who takes the -least supper. Common sense should teach him the exact measure of his -capacity. - -A whale swallows at a gulp more shrimps than would be required to make -sauce for the universe. That gentle songster, the canary, is like the -celebrated contralto songstress, who eats daily half a peck of saffron -salad;--the bird consumes nearly his own bulk weight of food. But he -is delicate compared with the caterpillar, which consumes five hundred -times its own weight before it lies down, to rise a butterfly. As -for the hyæna, he is popularly said, when hungry, and other food not -presenting itself, to eat himself; and probably, like Dr. Kitchener, -he carries his own sauce-box about with him! But the stomach of man is -not made to perform such feats as those accomplished by the whale, the -canary, or the caterpillar. He is especially to remember, that though -an animal, he is not a beast. - -Man, it must be remembered, began with refinement. He was made perfect, -upright, and to him was given “every herb bearing seed, which is on -the face of all the earth, and every tree in which is the fruit of a -tree, yielding seed; to you it shall be for meat.” Here food is used as -the symbol of celestial blessings; as in the passage, “He should have -fed them also with the finest of the wheat, and with honey out of the -rock should I have satisfied them.” With the fall, civilization and -innocence also fell, and barbarism was the offspring of disobedience. -There was a time when men had sunk so low that they were like the -Troglodytes described by Pomponius Mela--“Troglodytæ nullarum opum -domini, strident magis quam loquuntur, specus subeunt, alunturque -serpentibus”--they had no property, shrieked rather than spoke, lived -in caves, and devoured serpents for food. The fine wheat and the -honey from the rock was not theirs. The Fenns, painted by Tacitus, -were only a shade less barbarous: “Mira feritas,” says the graphic -Caius Cornelius, “fœda paupertas; non arma, non equi, non penates; -victui herba, vestui pelles, cubili humus”--wonderful for their -wildness, their poverty filthy; they had neither horses, nor gods; -the grass was their food, skins their raiment, and the ground their -couch. The Helvetii were _progressistas_ in the race for the prize of -civilization; and, when planning an emigration project, they took two -years to thoroughly perfect the plan, laying up stores of provisions -the while. Whoever Ceres may have really been, it is clear that in her -is to be recognised the benefactress of mankind:-- - - “Prima Ceres unco glebam dimovit aratro, - Prima dedit fruges, alimentaque mitia terris, - Prima dedit leges;” - -she who taught them the uses of the plough, of agriculture, and of -fixed laws, and who gave them what God had intended for civilized and -innocent man, “the finest wheat,”--she must have been the renovator of -the earth, and of beauty upon it. Man, like the rudest saints of the -desert--so near may savagery be to undisciplined sanctity--had been -“feeding on ashes but now the finest wheat was again there to give -him strength and delight,”--wheat, where golden grain had, perhaps, -first yielded its abundance beneath the shade of the primeval tree of -knowledge. - -The era of wheat, of the ploughshare, and of iron, was the era of the -second civilization. Man was no longer generally a wild savage, or a -cunning hunter. God again vouchsafed to him “the finest of the wheat;” -and, as civilization progressed, so also was widened the circle of -supply, upon which indeed much of civilization depends. - -The subject of “Man and his Food,” with regard to the future, has been -ably discussed by Dr. Leonard Withington, of Newbury, Massachusetts. -He has moved the question, whether we have reached the terminus of all -our stores or not? He holds, that the forest, the field, the river, -and the sea may yield contributions to our table, in addition to the -known abundance for which our as abundant gratitude is now due. We -have not reached the line of our last inventions; and, doubtless, new -articles are to be discovered, which will have an equal influence on -virtue and happiness. “Boundless nature,” says Dr. Withington, “lies -before us, and undeveloped skill is wrapt up in the human breast. The -exuberance of our system is not exhausted,--her beasts, her birds, her -fishes, her plants, her growing trees and her copious grasses, her -pastures, her valleys, her lofty mountains and her rolling streams, are -all spread out to the hungry world. Nature is an image of God, and she -echoes, though she does not originate the words, ‘In my Father’s house -is bread enough, and to spare. Thou visitest the earth, and waterest -it; thou greatly enrichest it with the river of God, which is full of -water; thou preparedst them corn when thou hadst so provided for it. -Thou waterest the ridges thereof abundantly; thou settlest the furrows -thereof; thou makest it soft with showers; thou blessest the springing -thereof.’” - -Dr. Cumming holds, not only that death is the most unnatural of -conditions, but that when the era of heavenly, everlasting life shall -be established, the heaven of man will be here upon earth. So Dr. -Withington thinks that the earth will not only be made more heavenly -beautiful than it now is, before the period of the new paradise, but -more abundant also. “The manna,” he says, “which is hereafter to be -provided, will not be rained down from heaven, but will spring up from -the earth.” And there is common sense in this last assertion, for in -it is implied that abundance will come by the proper application of -knowledge and labour, without which the earth, ever wise and prudent, -will yield but little. The increasing populations of that earth have -two objects before them which are of no small importance, and which -are thus defined by Dr. Withington:--“One is, to impart from the open -field of nature all those good and wholesome things which our Father -has laid up for us; and secondly, to train our taste and habits for -the using of those things which are nutritive and sweet, and which may -have the best influence on our moral character and social happiness.” -The training should begin from early childhood,--and early childhood -requires delicate training. - -An American writer on dietetics is half afraid that people will smile -if he, in connexion with the subject, introduces dainty children; and -yet, as he justly remarks, “there is a mystery about this subject, on -which we may well bestow a passing thought.” There are children in all -the various classes of life who are “very difficult about their food.” -“These little connoisseurs,” says Dr. Withington, “cannot eat with the -rest of the family, and the mother and the son are often at issue in -an interminable controversy. The mother often says it is all whim and -caprice; and some severe matrons tell their children that they shall -not eat a morsel until the given lump is devoured. But the son would -say, if he could quote Shakspeare, ‘You cram these things into mine -ear against the stomach of my sense. I know I don’t love it. I can’t -eat it; it is not fit to be eaten.’” The doctor proceeds to inquire -if this turn of the appetite be a matter of caprice or necessity. He -examines whether the mother, or the boy be right. He acknowledges the -antiquity of a controversy which has been carried on for ages, and he -has no doubt “that Eve had it with Cain and Abel, the first supper -she gave them after they were weaned. We offer it,” he adds, “as a -profound conjecture, that Cain was a dainty boy, and probably doubled -up his fist at his mother.” With regard to the controversy itself, he -appears to think that it has much of the quality of that which marked -the dispute about the colour of the chameleon, and that “both parties -are partly wrong.” It is likely, as he remarks, that much depends on -the training and volition, and also on original nature and temperament. -“There are some things we were never made for, and they were never made -for us. There are some kinds of food which, though they may suit the -race, were never made for the _individual_. But this blinded appetite, -partly natural, partly artificial, follows through life.” And this is -leaving the controversy very much where the worthy doctor found it. - -Finally, let them who fancy that man was made merely to enjoy, learn -truth from contemplating the portrait of one whose sole philosophy was -gastronomic enjoyment. If ever there was a man who had a gay celebrity, -and who taught in the porch, that life was only life at the tables in -the “salon,” it was the editor of the “Almanack des Gourmands.” He -taught not that _bibere est vivere_, but that _bibere_ was only the -half of _vivere_, and that to _live_ was emphatically to eat and drink. -He was a practical philosopher, it should be observed, and here is the -portrait of the man, at the end of his philosophical practice:--“The -author of the Almanack is still in the land of the living. He eats, -digests, and sleeps, in the charming valley of Longpons.... But how is -he changed! At eight o’clock, he rings for his servants, scolds them, -cries _Extravagantes!_ calls for his _soupe aux ficules_, and swallows -it. Digestion now commences: the labour of the stomach reacts upon -the brain, the gloomy ideas of the fasting man disappear, calmness -resumes her sway, he no longer wishes to die. He speaks, converses -tranquilly, asks for Paris news; and inquires for the old gourmands -still living. When digestion is finished, he becomes silent, and sleeps -for some hours. On awaking, complaints recommence; he weeps, he sighs, -he becomes angry, he wishes to die, he calls eagerly for death. The -hour for dinner comes; he sits himself down to table, dinner is served, -he eats abundantly of every dish, although he says he has no want of -anything, as his last hour is approaching. At dessert, his face becomes -animated; his eyes, sunk in their orbits, sparkle brightly. ‘How is -Marquis de Coussy, dear doctor?’ he exclaims: ‘how long will he last? -They say he has a terrible disease. Doubtless they have not put him -on regimen. You would never have suffered that, for one must eat to -live,--ah!’ At length, he rises from table. Behold him in an immense -arm-chair. He crosses his legs, supports his stumps upon his knees (for -he has no hands, but something resembling the flap of a goose), and -continues his conversation, which always runs on eating. ‘The rains -have been abundant,’ he cries, ‘we shall have plenty of mushrooms -this autumn. What a pity, dear doctor, that I cannot accompany you in -your walks to St. Geneviève! How fine our vines are! what a delicious -perfume!’ And then he falls asleep, and dreams of what he will eat on -the following day!” - -Fancy, if the theory of guardian angels be a beautiful truth, what -the winged watcher of this animal, staggering over the supper of -life, must feel at contemplating the ward committed to his care. For -our own profit such examples may be employed, as the ancients showed -their slaves drunk in presence of their sons, that the latter might be -disgusted with inebriety. And this tail-piece should be engraved at the -end of every work professing to teach that there is even in this world, -a paradise for _gourmands_. The old heathen Socrates knew better, when -he said, “Beware of such food as persuades a man, though he be not -hungry, to eat; and those liquors that will prevail with a man to drink -them when he is not thirsty.” In the same spirit, the pious Dodsley -taught, that health sat on the brow of him only who had temperance -for a companion--temperance, which Sir William Temple styled as “that -virtue without pride and fortune without envy, which gives health of -body and tranquillity of mind, the best guardian of youth, and support -of old age.” So Jeremy Collier says, “Temperance keeps the senses clear -and unembarrassed, and makes them seize the object with more keenness -and satisfaction. It appears with life in the face, and decorum in the -person; it gives you the command of your head, secures your health, and -preserves you in a condition for business.” What comment can I add to -texts of such philosophy, but to bid wise men welcome to the feast of -reason, where - - “May good digestion wait on appetite, - And health on both!” - - -THE END. - - -R. CLAY, PRINTER, BREAD STREET HILL. - - - - -FOOTNOTES: - -[1] Henry Holden Frankum, Esq. - -[2] “’Twixt the gloaming and the murk, - When the kye comes hame.”--HOGG. - -[3] Φιλομμειδὴς Ἀφροδίτη. Iliad, iii. 414. - -[4] After “Cupiditate et Amore,” Livy ungallantly adds, “quæ maxime ad -muliebre ingenium efficaces preces sunt.” - -[5] Lady Morgan, I think, calls dancing, “the Poetry of Motion.” - -[6] “Qu’est-ce que la danse? le sourire des jambes. Qu’est-ce que le -sourire? la danse du visage.”--_Bibliophile Jacob._ - -[7] The theatre at Boulogne stands on the site of the old convent -garden belonging to the Cordeliers, the sea formerly flowed close to -the spot. When Henry VIII. took Boulogne, he converted the convent into -a marine arsenal. - - - - -Transcriber’s Notes - -Obvious typographical errors have been silently corrected. 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