FOOTNOTES:
[1] Russia, also, has become impressed with the importance of growing its own tea; but the efforts of its agriculturists appear to have been unsuccessful. Samples of the produce of the tea-plants which have been acclimatized in Georgia were lately exhibited in the hall of the Agricultural Society of the Caucasus at Tiflis, and appear to have excited considerable interest. The local journals, however, admit that the samples proved to be rather poor in flavour, and that their aroma resembled that of Chinese teas of very inferior quality. It is pleaded, however, that these specimens were grown by a planter of little experience in the Chinese methods of cultivation and preparation, and hopes are entertained of ultimate success.—Manchester Examiner, April 23, 1884.
CHAPTER III.
TEA-MEETINGS.
The teetotalers and tea—Extravagance of ladies—Joseph Livesey—Reformed drunkards as water-carriers—One thousand two hundred persons at one tea-party—How they brewed their tea—How the Anti-Corn-Law League reached the people—Singing the praises of tea—Tea-drinking contests—"Tea-fights"—Hints on tea-meeting fare—Tea as a revolutionary agent.
How did tea-meetings originate? According to a writer in the Newcastle Chronicle, the teetotalers were the first to introduce these popular social gatherings. "Originally started as a medium of raising funds," he says, "they were conducted in a very different style from that so widely adopted at the present day. Our friends knew of no such thing as a contract for the supply of the viands at so much a head, and they had no experience to teach them how many square yards of bread a pound of butter could be made to cover. Our wives and sweethearts then undertook the purveying and management of our tea-parties. Each took a table accommodating from sixteen to twenty persons, and presided in person. And, oh! what hearty, jolly, comfortable gatherings we used to have in the old Music Hall in Blackett Street, amidst the abundance of singing hinnies, hot wigs, and spice loaf, served up in tempting display, tea of the finest flavour served in the best china from the most elegant of teapots, accompanied with the brightest of spoons, the thickest of cream, and the blandest of smiles! It is much to be regretted that this excess of gratification should have produced an evil which ultimately changed the character of these pleasant assemblies. A spirit of rivalry among the ladies as to who should have the richest and most elegantly-furnished table became so prevalent that their lords and masters were obliged to protest against the excessive expenditure; and thus the ladies, not being allowed to have their own way, declined to take any further share in the work. This was a great misfortune, as the proceeds considerably augmented the resources of the Temperance Society."
No such fate met these popular gatherings in other towns. They were conducted on a scale of great magnitude, especially in the birthplace of the temperance movement in England, the town of Preston. Here lives Joseph Livesey, the patriarch of the movement, now in his ninety-first year. The third tea-party of the Preston Temperance Society in 1833, at Christmas, is thus described:—
"The range of rooms was most elegantly fitted up for the occasion. The walls were all covered with white cambric, ornamented with rosettes of various colours, and elegantly interspersed with a variety of evergreens. The windows, fifty-six in number, were also festooned and ornamented with considerable taste. The tables, 630 feet in length, were covered with white cambric. At the upper and lower ends of each side-room were mottoes in large characters, 'temperance, sobriety, peace, plenty,' and at the centre of the room connecting the others was displayed in similar characters the motto, 'happiness.' The tables were divided and numbered, and eighty sets of brilliant tea-requisites, to accommodate parties of ten persons each, were placed upon the table, with two candles to each party. A boiler, also capable of containing 200 gallons, was set up in Mr. Halliburton's yard, to heat water for the occasion, and was managed admirably by those reformed characters. About forty men, principally reformed drunkards, were busily engaged as waiters, water-carriers, &c.; those who waited at the tables wore white aprons, with 'temperance' printed on the front. The tables were loaded with provisions, and plenty seemed to smile upon the guest. A thousand tickets were printed and sold at 6d. and 1s. each, but the whole company admitted is supposed to be about 1200; 820 sat down at once, and the rest were served afterwards. The pleasure and enjoyment which beamed from every countenance would baffle every attempt at description, and the contrast betwixt this company and those where intoxicating liquors are used is an unanswerable argument in favour of temperance associations."
A tea-party at Liverpool, in 1836, was attended by a greater number, and the account shows very clearly that the early temperance gatherings will contrast favourably with the large Blue Ribbon meetings held at the present time:—
"The great room where tea was provided was fitted up in a style of elegance surpassing anything we could have imagined. The platform and the orchestra for the band were most tastefully decorated. The beams and walls of the building were richly ornamented with evergreens and appropriate mottoes. The tables were laid out with tea-equipages interspersed with flower-pots filled with roses. When the parties sat down, in number about 2500, a most imposing sight presented itself. Wealth, beauty, and intelligence were present; and great numbers of reformed characters respectably clad, with their smiling partners, added no little interest to the scene, which was beyond the power of language to describe."
In 1837 the Isle of Man Temperance Guardian reported a tea-meeting at Leeds, at which nearly 700 persons sat down; another at Bury, where "500 of both sexes sat down." A tea-party at Exeter is thus described:—"The arrangements were very judicious, and nearly 400 made merry with the 'cup that cheers, but not inebriates,' among whom were numbers of highly respectable ladies and citizens of Exeter. This novel feature presented a most interesting and gratifying sight, from the spirit of cordiality and good-feeling which pervaded it, and cannot but have the most beneficial effect upon society." For the benefit of societies which had not adopted this new and successful method of reaching the public, the secretary of the Bristol Society gave the following account of a Christmas tea-party:—"The tables were provided with tea-services, milk, sugar, cakes and bread and butter, and one waiter appointed to each, who was furnished with a bright, clean tea-kettle, while the tea, which was previously made, stood in a corner of the room in large barrels, with a tap in each, from which each waiter drew his supply as required, and filled the cups when empty, without noise, confusion, or delay." The following receipt for tea-making was given in the Preston Temperance Advocate, of July, 1836:—
"At the tea-parties in Birmingham they made the tea in large tins, about a yard square, and a foot deep, each one containing as much as will serve about 250 persons. The tea is tied loosely in bags, about ¼lb. in each. At the top there is an aperture, into which the boiling water is conveyed by a pipe from the boiler, and at one corner there is a tap, from which the tea when brewed is drawn out. It may be either sweetened or milked, or both, if thought best, while in the tins. Being thus made, it can be carried in teapots, or jugs, where those cannot be had. Capital tea was made at the last festival by this plan."
Considering the high price of tea and of bread at that time, it is scarcely credible that a charge of 9d. per head for men and women, and of 6d. for "youths under fourteen," was found sufficient to defray the cost, as well as to benefit the funds of the Temperance Society. The value of such gatherings to the temperance movement it is impossible to estimate. Weaned from the use of fiery beverages, the reformed drunkard needed a substitute which would be at once harmless, as well as stimulating. In tea he found exactly what he wanted. He needed, moreover, company of an elevating kind; and in the tea-party he found the craving for the companionship of men and women fully satisfied. It was by this agency chiefly that the converts to teetotalism were kept together and instructed in the principles of total abstinence from all intoxicating liquors; and we are not surprised that the consumption of drink fell off largely in consequence. Dr. J. H. Curtis, writing in 1836, contended that the introduction of tea and coffee into general use had done much towards reducing the consumption of intoxicating drinks; and, although the expenditure upon intoxicating drinks still remains a formidable amount, there can be no doubt that the general use of tea has lessened the consumption of alcohol.
These gatherings continue very popular, but do not draw such large numbers as in the early days of the movement; but it is open to question whether the time spent upon them might not be more profitably employed. A writer in the Band of Hope Chronicle (January, 1882) calls attention to this aspect of tea-meetings:—"There should be," he contends, "moderation even in tea-drinking, and when we hear of four or five hours at a stretch being spent over this process at public gatherings, as it seems the good folks do in some parts of the Isle of Man, one cannot but feel there is need for improvement. What would be thought if the time were occupied with the consumption of stronger beverages than tea. There would be little prospect of orderliness in the after-proceedings then; so, anyhow, the tea-drinkers have the best of it even when they are at their worst."
The example of the teetotalers was followed by other reformers. The Preston Temperance Advocate, of October, 1837, says:—"A tea-party was held at Salford, in honour of the return of Joseph Brotherton, Esq., M.P., for this town, to which he was invited. It was attended by 1050 persons, nearly 900 of whom were ladies, and the spectacle presented to the eye by such an assemblage was one of the most pleasing which I have ever witnessed." The Anti-Corn-Law League also adopted similar means of bringing their friends and subscribers together. "On the 23rd of November, 1842," writes Mr. Archibald Prentice, the historian of the movement, "the first of a series of deeply-interesting soirées in Yorkshire, in furtherance of the great object of Corn-Law Repeal, was celebrated in the saloon, beautifully decorated for the occasion, of the Philosophical Hall, Huddersfield. The occasion, says the Leeds Mercury, was one of high importance, not only for the dignity and benevolence of the object contemplated, but for the enthusiastic spirit manifested by the assembly of both sexes, of the first respectability, extensive in number, and intelligent and influential in its character. More than 600 persons sat down to tea, and more than double that number would have been present had it been possible to provide accommodation." Mr. Prentice records many other tea-meetings attended by 600 and 800 persons. "In Manchester," writes Mr. Henry Ashworth, "a number of ladies took up the Corn-Law question, and held an Anti-Corn-Law tea-party, which was attended by 830 persons."
WATERING A TEA-PLANTATION.
A hymn was specially composed for use at temperance gatherings, its purport being to show the superiority of tea-meetings over public-house meetings. It consisted of eight verses, and was printed in the Moral Reformer of February, 1833. One verse will give an idea of its character:—
"Pure, refined, domestic bliss,
Social meetings such as this,
Banish sorrow, cares dismiss,
And cheer all our lives."
Total abstinence has not yet found much favour among artists, who too often paint the fleeting pleasures of the wine-cup rather than the enduring pleasures of temperance; but in Mr. Collingwood Banks we have an artist who can sing the praises of a cup of tea as well as paint the charms of a fireside tea-table. To him we are indebted for the following song, which ought speedily to become popular among temperance societies:—
"THE CUP FOR ME.
"Let others sing the praise of wine,
Let others deem its joys divine,
Its fleeting bliss shall ne'er be mine,
Give me a cup of tea!
The cup that soothes each aching pain,
Restores the sick to health again,
Steals not from heart, steals not from brain,
A friend when others flee.
"When sorrow frowns, what power can cheer,
Or chase away the falling tear
Without the vile effects of beer,
Like Pekoe or Bohea?
What makes the old man young and strong,
Like Hyson, Congou, or Souchong,
Which leave the burthen of his song
A welcome cup of tea.
"Then hail the grave Celestial band,
With planning mind, and planting hand,
And let us bless that golden land
So far across the sea;
Whose hills and vales give fertile birth
To that fair shrub of priceless worth,
Which yields each son of mother earth
A fragrant cup of tea."
Another hymn in praise of tea was used in Cornwall, and often sung at tea-meetings by the Rev. J. G. Hartley, a minister of the United Methodist Free Churches. The lines possess little poetical merit, but are worth quoting on account of the pleasure with which they have been received by tens of thousands of people, and of their influence in unlocking the pockets of the people when the box went round.
"When vanish'd spirits intertwine,
And social sympathies combine,
What of such friendship is a sign?
A cup of tea, a cup of tea.
"When dulness seizes on the mind,
And thought no liberty can find,
What can the captive powers unbind?
A cup of tea, a cup of tea.
"If one has given another pain,
And distant coldness both maintain,
What helps to make them friends again?
A cup of tea, a cup of tea.
"And if discourse be sluggish growing,
Whate'er the cause to which 'tis owing,
What's sure to set the tongue a-going?
A cup of tea, a cup of tea.
"If things of use or decoration
Require a friendly consultation,
What greatly aids the conversation?
A cup of tea, a cup of tea.
"And lastly let us not forget
The occasion upon which we're met,
What helps to move a chapel-debt?
A cup of tea, a cup of tea."
"It has served us many a good turn," writes Mr. Hartley, "and has helped to clear many a chapel-debt." It would be difficult, no doubt, in our day to cite a single case of a tea-party attended by 500 persons; but if large gatherings are fewer, small ones are more frequent. Every chapel, every church, every day-school, every Sunday-school, every religious association has at least four tea-parties a year: and thus not only is a very large amount of tea consumed, but a very large number of people are brought under good influences.
In rural districts the Christmas tea-party is the event of the year. It is attended by all the lads and lasses in the neighbourhood; by the milkmaids and the ploughmen, who make sad havoc with the cake. Wonderful, also, is the amount of tea consumed. In fact a tea-drinking contest takes place at these annual reunions. At any rate he is the hero of the table who can drink the most.
We have referred to the decreasing popularity of tea-meetings, and believe that one way of reviving the interest in these festivals would be to provide better refreshments, as well as a greater variety. From the Land's End to John O'Groats, the bill of fare is limited to currant-cake and bread and butter of the cheapest kind. In some cases, where the charge is a shilling per head, beef and sandwiches are provided. An announcement of "a knife and fork tea" at a Primitive Methodist Chapel never fails to secure a good attendance of the members and friends. In Lancashire such meetings are not unfrequently called "tea-fights," probably on account of the scramble for sandwiches which characterizes the proceedings. But neither cake nor sandwich is sufficient to tempt all who are interested in these social entertainments. The promoters would do well to follow the example of the Vegetarian Society, and provide more fruit and substantial bread, both white and brown. In summer all the fruits in season should be placed upon the tables, and in winter stewed fruits. The following hints on "Tea-Meeting Fare," written by the late Mr. R. N. Sheldrick, who was an active missionary agent of the Vegetarian Society, may prove of service to all who cater for tea-meetings:—
"1. Provide good tea, pure, fresh-ground coffee, cocoa, &c. Let the making of these decoctions be superintended by an experienced friend; serve up nice and hot, but without milk or sugar, leaving these to be added or not, according to individual tastes.
"2. Procure a plentiful supply of good whole-meal wheaten (brown) bread, some white bread, some currant-cake—home-baked if possible, without dripping or lard; two or three varieties of Reading biscuits, such as Osborne, tea, picnic, arrowroot, &c.
"3. Purchase from the nearest market sufficient lettuce, kale, celery, cress, and other fresh salads according to season; also provide a liberal supply of figs, muscatels, almonds, nuts, oranges, apples, pears, plums, cherries, strawberries, peaches, or such other fruit as may be in season.
"4. Take care, whatever arrangement be adopted, not to let these things be hidden away until the latter part of the feast. Fruits should have the place of honour. The plates or baskets of fruit should have convenient positions along the tables with the bread and butter, biscuits, &c.
"5. Place the arrangements under the control of a well-selected committee of ladies, who will see that the tables are tastefully laid out, and that everybody is supplied. Let there be also, if possible, a profusion of fresh-cut flowers."
Tea, it is true, has not yet worked a complete revolution in the habits of the people, but it has done much to lessen intemperance. Dr. Sigmond, writing nearly half a century ago, referred to its influences for good: "Tea has in most instances," he said, "been substituted for fermented or spirituous liquors, and the consequence has been a general improvement in the health and in the morals of a vast number of persons. The tone, the strength, and the vigour of the human body are increased by it; there is a greater capability of enduring fatigue; the mind is rendered more susceptible of the innocent pleasures of life, and of acquiring information. Whole classes of the community have been rendered sober, careful, and provident. The wasted time that followed upon intemperance kept individuals poor, who are now thriving in the world and exhibiting the results of honest industry. Men have become healthier, happier, and better for the exchange they have made. They have given up a debasing habit for an innocent one. The individuals who were outcasts, miserable, abandoned, have become independent and a blessing to society. Their wives and their children hail them on their return home from their daily labours with their prayers and fondest affections, instead of shunning their presence, fearful of some barbarity, or some outrage against their better feelings; cheerfulness and animation follow upon their slumbers, instead of the wretchedness and remorse which the wakening drunkard ever experiences."
This picture, it will be observed, is a little over-coloured; but, in the main, it will be granted that tea and other similar beverages have done a good deal to displace spirituous and fermented liquors. The use of tea has certainly resulted in great benefit to the health and morals of the people.
CHAPTER IV.
HOW TO MAKE TEA.
The Siamese method of making tea—A three-legged teapot—Advice of a Chinese poet—How tea should be made—How Abernethy made tea for his guests—The "bubbling and loud-hissing urn"—Tate's description of a tea-table—The tea of public institutions—Rev. Dr. Lansdell on Russian tea—The art of tea-making described—The kind of water to be used. The Chinese method of making tea—Invalids' tea—Words to nurses, by Miss Nightingale.
The mode of preparation of tea for the table has always given rise to discussion. Different nations have different methods. In Siam one method was thus described in a book entitled "Relation of the Voyage to Siam by Six Jesuits," which was published in 1685. "In the East they prepare tea in this manner: when the water is well boiled, they pour it upon the tea, which they have put into an earthen pot, proportionally to what they intend to take (the ordinary proportion is as much as one can take up with the finger and thumb for a pint of water); then they cover the pot until the leaves are sunk to the bottom of it, and afterwards serve it about in china dishes to be drunk as hot as can be, without sugar, or else with a little sugar-candy in the mouth; and upon that tea more boiling water may be poured, and so it may be made to serve twice. These people drink of it several times a day, but do not think it wholesome to take it fasting."
In "Recreative Science" (vol. i., 1821) there appears a very curious note relating to the translation of a Chinese poem. The editor says,—"Kien Lung, the Emperor of the Celestial Empire, which is in the vernacular China, was also a poet, and he has been good enough to give us a receipt also—would that all didactic poetry meddled with what its author understood. The poet Kien did, and he has left the following recipe how to make tea, which, for the benefit of the ladies who study the domestic cookery, is inserted: 'set an old three-legged teapot over a slow fire; fill it with water of melted snow; boil it just as long as is necessary to turn fish white or lobsters red; pour it on the leaves of choice, in a cup of Youe. Let it remain till the vapour subsides into a thin mist, floating on the surface. Drink this precious liquor at your leisure, and thus drive away the five causes of sorrow.'"
Poets, as everybody knows, are allowed a good deal of licence, and tea-maids may be pardoned if they are sceptical of the value of the advice of the Chinese poet. How, then, should tea be made? First and foremost, remarks Dr. Joseph Pope, it should be remembered that tea is an infusion, not an extract. An old verse runs thus:—
"The fragrant shrub in China grows,
The leaves are all we see,
And these, when water o'er them flows,
Make what we call our tea."
Dr. Pope lays emphasis on the word flows; it does not say soak. There is, he contends, an instantaneous graciousness, a momentary flavour that must be caught if we would rightly enjoy tea. Assuredly Dr. Abernethy, the celebrated surgeon, must be credited with the possession of this "instantaneous graciousness." "Abernethy," said Dr. Carlyon, in his "Early Years and Late Reflections," "never drank tea himself, but he frequently asked a few friends to come and take tea at his rooms. Upon such occasions, as I infer from what I myself witnessed, his custom was to walk about the room and talk most agreeably upon such topics as he thought likely to interest his company, which did not often consist of more than two or three persons. As soon as the tea-table was set in order, and the boiling water ready for making the infusion, the fragrant herb was taken, not from an ordinary tea-caddy, but from a packet consisting of several envelopes curiously put together, in the centre of which was the tea. Of this he used at first as much as would make a good cup for each of the party; and to meet fresh demands I observed that he invariably put an additional tea-spoonful into the teapot; the excellence of the beverage thus prepared insuring him custom. He had likewise a singular knack of supplying each cup with sugar from a considerable distance, by a jerk of the hand, which discharged it from the sugar-tongs into the cup with unerring certainty, as he continued his walk around the table, scarcely seeming to stop whilst he performed these and the other requisite evolutions of the entertainment."
If every woman had treated her guests in the same manner, there would have been little outcry against tea. The innovation of a "bubbling and loud-hissing urn" was strongly condemned by Dr. Sigmond, who, writing in 1839, after quoting Cowper, remarked: "Thus sang one of our most admired poets, who was feelingly alive to the charms of social life; but, alas! for the domestic happiness of many of our family circles, this meal has lost its character, and many of those innovations which despotic fashion has introduced have changed one of the most agreeable of our daily enjoyments. It is indeed a question amongst the devotees to the tea-table, whether the bubbling urn has been practically an improvement upon our habits; it has driven from us the old national kettle, once the pride of the fireside. The urn may be fairly called the offspring of indolence; it has deprived us, too, of many of those felicitous opportunities of which the gallant forefathers of the present race availed themselves to render them amiable in the eyes of the fair sex, when presiding over the distribution
"Of the Soumblo, the Imperial tea,
Names not unknown, and sanative Bohea."
The consequence of this injudicious change is, that one great enjoyment is lost to the tea-drinker—that which consists in having the tea infused in water actually hot, and securing an equal temperature when a fresh supply is required. Such, too, is what those who have preceded us would have called the degeneracy of the period in which we live, that now the tea-making is carried on in the housekeeper's room, or in the kitchen—
"For monstrous novelty, and strange disguise,
We sacrifice our tea, till household joys
And comforts cease."
What, he asks, can be more delightful than those social days described by Tate, the poet-laureate?
"When in discourse of nature's mystic powers
And noblest themes we pass the well-spent hours,
Whilst all around the virtues—sacred band,
And listening graces, pleased attendants stand.
Thus our tea-conversations we employ.
Where, with delight, instructions we enjoy,
Quaffing, without the waste of time or wealth,
The sovereign drink of pleasure and of health."
Fortunately for the lovers of the teapot and the kettle, a change in the fashion of making tea is taking place, the "loud-hissing urn" being now confined almost exclusively to a public tea-party and the coffee tavern. The quality of tea and coffee supplied by the latter institution has long been considered the blot upon an otherwise excellent movement. Not too severely did the Daily Telegraph speak a short time ago against the atrocious stuff supplied under the name of tea in public institutions. The editor said,—
"The very look of it is no longer encouraging. It is either a pale, half-chilled, unsatisfactory beverage, or it contains a dark black-brown settlement from over-boiled tea-leaves. The consumption of tea, no doubt, in England is enormous, and we boast to foreigners that we are fond of our tea; the fashion of tea-drinking, owing mainly to our example, has extended to France, once extremely heretical on the point; and yet where is the foreigner to find a good cup of tea in England? At the railway stations? Very rarely. At the restaurants? Scarcely ever. And at the newly-started tea and coffee palaces, which are to promote sobriety, the great and crying complaint is that the tea and coffee are so poor that the best-intentioned people are forced back to the dangerous public-house, in order to obtain a little stimulant, for it is idle to deny that both tea and coffee are stimulating to the constitution. Everywhere a great reform in tea is required. Once on a time no confectioner, railway-station, or refreshment-house could rival the home-made brew, made under the eye of the mistress of the household, with the kettle on the hob and the ingredients at hand; but now that the good old custom of tea-making is considered unladylike, and the manufacture has been handed over to the servants, the great charm of the beverage has virtually departed. No one can conscientiously say that they like English tea as at present administered, for the very good reason that it is no longer prepared scientifically. The English fashion of drinking tea would be laughed to scorn by the educated Chinaman or the accomplished Russian. Indeed, it is surprising in how few houses a good cup of tea can be obtained now that it has become unfashionable for the mistress of the establishment, not only to preside over her own tea-table, but to have complete sway over that most necessary article, a kettle of boiling water. The Chinese never dream of stewing their tea, as we too often do in England. They do not drown it with milk or cream, or alter its taste with sugar, but lightly pour boiling water on a small portion of the leaves. It is then instantly poured off again, by which the Chinaman obtains only the more volatile and stimulating portion of its principle. The most delicious of all tea, however, can be tasted in Russia—supposed to import the best of the Chinese leaves, as it imports the best of French champagne."
GATHERING TEA-LEAVES.
According to the Rev. Dr. Lansdell, however, the Russians do not pay extravagantly for their tea, "When crossing the Pacific," he says, "I fell in with a tea-merchant homeward bound from China, and from him I gathered that three-fourths of the Russian trade is done in medium and common teas, such as are sold in London in bond from 1s. 2d. down to 8d. per English pound, exclusive of the home duty. The remaining fourth of their trade includes some of the very best teas grown in the Ning Chou districts—teas which the Russians will have at any price, and for which in a bad year they may have to pay as much as 3s. a pound in China, though in ordinary years they cost from 2s. upwards. The flowery Pekoe, or blossom tea, costs also about 3s. in China." But Dr. Lansdell heard of some kind of yellow tea which cost as much as five guineas a pound, the Emperor of China being supposed to enjoy its monopoly; but a friend of the doctor told him that he did not think it distinguishable from that sold at 5s. a pound.
The excellence of the Russian tea is attributed, in part, to the fact that it is carried overland. "Whilst travelling eastwards," says Dr. Lansdell, "we had frequently met caravans or carts carrying tea. These caravans sometimes reach to upwards of 100 horses; and as they go at walking pace, and when they come to a river are taken over by ferry, it is not matter for surprise that merchandise should be three months in coming from Irkutsk to Moscow." Whatever the cause, all travellers eulogize the Russians as tea-makers. Dr. Sigmond, for instance, says,—
"My own experience of the excellence of tea in Russia arose out of a curious incident, which occurred to me during a hasty visit I made to that highly-interesting country. Previous to this adventure, I had been in the habit of taking coffee as my ordinary beverage, and was by no means satisfied with it. I had no idea of the prevailing habit of tea-drinking, previous to my arrival, at Moscow. In the course of the afternoon I left my hotel alone, obtaining from my servant a card, with the name of the street, La Rue de Demetrius, written upon it. I wandered about that magnificent citadel, the Kremlin, until dark, and I found myself at some distance from the point from which I started, and I endeavoured to return to it, and asked several persons the way to my street, of which they all appeared ignorant. I therefore got into one of the drotzskies, and intimated to my Cossack driver that I should be enabled to point out my own street. Although we could not understand each other, we did our mutual signs; and with the greatest cheerfulness and good-nature this man drove me through every street, but I could nowhere recognize my hotel. He therefore drove me to his humble abode in the environs; he infused the finest tea that I had ever seen in a peculiarly-shaped saucepan, set it on a stove, and this, when nearly boiled, he poured out; and a more delicious beverage, nor one more acceptable after a hard day's fatigue and anxiety, I have not tasted."
Other travellers refer to the excellence of tea in Russia. If we could have an improvement in the quality of tea made in England, we feel sure that a decrease in the consumption of intoxicating drinks would result.
Some reform has already taken place at railway-stations. For the reduction of the price of a cup of tea from sixpence to fourpence on the Great Northern Railway the public are indebted to the Hon. Reginald Capel, Chairman of the Refreshment-Rooms and Hotels' Committee of that company. On the Midland Railway, also, a reduction in the price of non-intoxicating beverages has been made. At the present time the coffee taverns stand most in need of reform.
With the object of inducing our tea-makers to reform their methods of tea-making, we quote some important recommendations of leading physicians. Dr. King Chambers, in his valuable manual of "Diet in Health and Disease," remarks that the uses of tea are (1) to give an agreeable flavour to warm water required as a drink; (2) to soothe the nervous system when it is in an uncomfortable state from hunger, fatigue, or mental excitement. The best tea therefore is, he contends, that which is pleasantest to the taste of the educated consumer, and which contains most of the characteristic sedative principles. As Dr. Poore has pointed out, tannic acid, which is one of the dangers as well as one of the pleasures of tea, is largely present in the common teas used by the poor. "The rich man," he says, "who wishes to avoid an excess of tannic acid in the 'cup that cheers,' does not allow the water to stand on the tea for more than five, or at most eight minutes, and the resulting beverage is aromatic, not too astringent, and wholesome. The poor man or poor woman allows the tea to simmer on the hob for indefinite periods, with the result that a highly astringent and unwholesome beverage is obtained. There can be no doubt that the habit of drinking excessive quantities of strong astringent tea is a not uncommon cause of that atonic dyspepsia, which seems to be the rule rather than the exception among poor women of the class of sempstresses." The late Dr. Edward Smith devoted considerable attention to this subject, and we cannot do better than quote his observations:—"The aim should be to extract all the aroma and dried juices containing theine, with only so much of the substance of the leaf as may give fulness, or, as it is called, body to the infusion. If the former be defective, the respiratory action of the tea and the agreeableness of the flavour will be lessened, whilst if the latter be in excess there will be a degree of bitterness which will mash the aromatic flavour. As the theine is without flavour, its presence or absence cannot be determined by the taste of the tea. All agree, therefore, that the tea should be cooked in water, and that the water should be at the boiling-point when used; but there is not an agreement as to the duration of the infusing process. If the tea be scented or artificially flavoured, the aroma may be extracted in two minutes, but the proper aromatic oil of the tea requires at least five minutes for its removal. If flavour is to be considered, it is clear that an inferior tea should not be infused so long as a fine tea.
"The kind of water is believed to have great influence over the process; soft water is preferred. The Chinese direction is, 'Take it from a running stream; that from mill-springs is the best, river-water is the next, and well-water is the worst;' that is to say, take water well mixed with air. Hence avoid hard water, but prefer tap-water or running water to well-water. It is the practice of a good housewife in the country to send to a brook for water to make tea, whilst she will use the well water for drinking." The mode of making tea in China is to put the tea into a cup, to pour hot water upon it, and then to drink the infusion off the leaves. While wandering over the tea-districts of China, Mr. Fortune only once met with sugar and a tea-spoon. "The merchant invited us to drink tea," writes the Rev. Dr. Lansdell, who recently visited the Mongolian frontier at Maimatchin, "and told us that the Chinese use this beverage without sugar or milk three times a day; namely, at rising, at noon, and at seven in the evening. They have substantial meals at nine in the morning and four in the afternoon." Dr. King Chambers considers tea most refreshing to the dyspeptic if made in the Russian fashion, with a slice of lemon on which a little sugar-candy has been sprinkled, instead of milk or cream. One small cup of an evening is enough. He also gives the following receipt for making invalids' tea:—
"Pour into a small china or earthenware teapot a cup of quite boiling water, empty it out, and while it is still hot and steaming put in the tea and enough boiling water to wet it thoroughly, and set it close to the fire to steam three or four minutes. Then pour in the quantity of water required, boiling from the kettle, and it is ready for use." Miss Nightingale offers a word of advice to nurses upon the amount of tea which should be given. "A great deal too much against tea is," she remarks, "said by wise people, and a great deal too much of it is given to the sick by foolish people. When you see the natural and almost universal craving in English sick for their tea, you cannot but feel that Nature knows what she is about. But a little tea or coffee restores them quite as much as a great deal; and a great deal of tea, and especially of coffee, impairs the little power of digestion they have; yet a nurse, because she sees how one or two cups of tea or coffee restore her patient, thinks three or four cups will do twice as much. This is not the case at all: it is, however, certain that there is nothing yet discovered which is a substitute to the English patient for his cup of tea."
CHAPTER V.
TEA AND PHYSICAL ENDURANCE.
Tea and dry bread versus porter and beefsteak—Tea for soldiers—Opinion of Professor Parkes—Tea versus spirits—Tea and Tel-el-Kebir—Lord Wolseley's testimony—Pegs and teapots—Temperance in the navy—Drinking the health of her Majesty in a bowl of tea—Cycling and tea-drinking—Mountain-climbing—Tea in the harvest-field—Cold tea as a summer drink.
Tea is not only a valuable stimulant to the mind, but is the most beneficial drink to those engaged in fatiguing work. Dr. Jackson, whom Buckle quotes as an authority, testified in 1845, that even for those who have to go through great fatigues a breakfast of tea and dry bread is more strengthening than one of beefsteak and porter. "I have been," says Dr. Inman, "a careful reader of all those accounts which tell of endurance of prolonged fatigue, and have been touched with the almost unanimous evidence in favour of vegetable diet and tea as a beverage, that I have determined in every instance where long nursing, as of a fever patient, is required, to recommend nothing stronger than tea for the watcher." In the army, as well as in the hospital, tea is slowly, but surely, supplanting the use of grog. "As an article of diet for soldiers," remarked Professor Parkes, "tea is most useful. The hot infusion, like that of coffee, is potent both against heat and cold; is most useful in great fatigue, especially in hot climates, and also has a great purifying effect on water. Tea is so light, is so easily carried and the infusion is so readily made, that it should form the drink par excellence of the soldier on service. There is also a belief that it lessens the susceptibility to malaria, but the evidence on this point is imperfect."
Admiral Inglefield, writing in January, 1881, strongly commended the use of tea and coffee as heat producers.
"During this almost Arctic weather, and in the midst of these almost Arctic surroundings, permit me as an old Arctic officer to plead for a short hearing in behalf of those whose lives may still be in jeopardy for want of some practical experience how to take care of themselves. Among the working classes there is an all-prevailing idea that nothing is so effectual to keep out cold as a raw nip of spirits, and this delusion is to their minds justified, because they find the "raw nip" setting the heart, and blood in more rapid motion; and heat being generated while the influence remains, a sensation of warmth is the natural result, but after a short space reaction sets in, and a slower circulation must ensue. In the evidence given before the last Arctic Committee, of which I was a member, all the witnesses were unanimous in the opinion that spirits taken to keep out cold was a fallacy, and that nothing was more effectual than a good fatty diet, and hot tea or coffee as a drink. Seamen who journeyed with me up the shores of Wellington Channel, in the Arctic Regions, after one day's experience of rum-drinking, came to the conclusion that tea, which was the only beverage I used, was much preferable, and they quickly derived great advantage from its use while undergoing hard work and considerable cold. If cabmen, watchmen, railway servants, and those who from the nature of their duties are compelled to expose themselves during this inclement weather could be persuaded to give up entirely the use of spirituous liquors and use hot tea or coffee for a beverage, I can promise that they would be better fortified to withstand the cold, they would experience more lasting comfort, and there would be more shillings to take to their homes on a Saturday night; happily, also, the trial of temperance for a time, to meet the present emergency, might become with some the habit of a life."
The soldiers who captured Tel-el-Kebir drank nothing but tea. It was served out to them three times a day. The correspondent of the Daily News (12th of September, 1882) wrote, "Sir Garnet Wolseley having ordered that the troops under his command should be allowed daily a triple allowance of tea, extra supplies of that article are being sent out from the commissariat stores to Ismailia. It is stated that the extra issue of tea is very acceptable to the men, who find a decoction of the mild stimulant in their canteen-bottles the most refreshing and invigorating beverage they can carry with them on the march."
Lord Wolseley having been asked for his temperance testimony, replied in an interesting letter, in which he strongly commended the use of tea. "Once during my military career," he says, "it fell to my lot to lead a brigade through a desert country for a distance of over 600 miles. I fed the men as well as I could, but no one, officer or private, had anything stronger than tea to drink during the expedition. The men had peculiarly hard work to do, and they did it well, and without a murmur. We seemed to have left crime and sickness behind us with the 'grog,' for the conduct of all was most exemplary, and no one was ever ill. I have always attributed much of our success upon that occasion to the fact that no form of intoxicating liquor formed any portion of the daily ration."
Evidence from other quarters shows very conclusively that soldiers would rather drink tea than grog. In an account of the return march through the Khyber Pass, the Rev. Gelson Gregson states that they were very kindly and hospitably received by the medical officer in charge, "who had a good brew of tea ready, with cheese and biscuits, much more sensible than another medico, who came round with a brandy-bottle as soon as we got in. Every one enjoyed the tea, and did not even call for a peg. I believe," he adds, "that pegs would soon go out of fashion if teapots were only oftener introduced." Tea, unfortunately, requires some trouble to make; but doubtless this difficulty is in a fair way of being removed by the pressure from without. Total abstinence is increasing greatly both in the army and navy. Miss Weston, whose labours amongst the blue jackets are well known, claims that one man out of every six is a teetotaler; and the Hong Kong Telegraph recently gave an account of a tea-meeting held with the men of H.M.S. Orontes and their successors in the port, at which between 300 and 400 sat down in the Temperance Hall. Mr. James Francis, Organizing Agent of the Royal Naval Temperance Society, having asked Admiral Willes to say a few words, his Excellency advanced to the top of the room and said, "Soldiers, sailors, and marines, I am going to ask you to drink the health, in a flowing bowl of tea, of her Gracious Majesty, the Queen, and in so doing I take the opportunity of bidding the marines and sailors going home on the 20th farewell. I wish them a pleasant passage and a happy meeting with their friends. I invite those lately come out to support by example those who are going away. I consider this an excellent institution. Drunkenness is the cause of nearly all the crimes in the navy, and I dare say also in the army. I ask you to drink the health of the Queen, and give her Majesty three cheers." The toast was duly drunk in sparkling Bohea, three rounds of cheers being given for her Majesty and "one more" for the gallant admiral. Mr. Haly, R.N., then proposed "The health of his Excellency, the Governor," the toast receiving like treatment. Mr. Chisham, R.N., next proposed "The health of Miss Agnes Weston," and said that no words of his could make her dearer than she already was to the British sailor. The toast was duly honoured, as was also that of Mr. Francis.
The use of tea among cricketers, scullers, pedestrians, cyclists, and others is also becoming more general; for instance, Mr. Wynter Blyth, Medical Officer of Health for Marylebone, says, "I have studied the diets recorded as in use, and find that those who have done long journeys successfully have used that class of diet which science has shown most suitable for muscular exertion—viz. one of a highly nitrogenized character: plenty of meat, eggs, and milk, with bread, but not much butter, and no alcohol. I have cycled for over fifty miles, taking frequent draughts of beer, and in these circumstances, although there has been no alcoholic effect, it has caused great physical depression. The experience of others is the same. However much it may stimulate for a little while, a period of well-marked depression follows. I attribute this in part to the salts of potash which some beers contain, in part to injurious bitters, and in part to the alcohol. My own experience as to the best drink when on the road is most decidedly in favour of tea. Tea appears to rouse both the nervous and muscular system, with, so far as I can discover, no after-depressing effect."
PRESSING THE TEA-LEAVES.
The use of alcohol is almost invariably condemned in the various handbooks on training; but the use of tea is always commended. Mr. C. J. Michôd, late Hon. Sec. of the London Athletic Club, in his "Guide to Athletic Training," considers tea preferable for training purposes, as it possesses less heating properties, and is more digestible. The greatest pedestrian of our time, Mr. Edward Payson Weston, finds in tea and rest the most effective restoratives. Lately he walked 5000 miles in 100 days, and after each day's work, lectured on "Tea versus Beer." Even the publicans on the roads, he says, used to meet him with cups of tea and basins of milk. A Norwich physician, Dr. Beverley, testified to the value of tea in mountain-climbing. "The hardest physical work I have done," he says, "has been mountain-climbing in Switzerland, and on such occasions after a breakfast, of which coffee and milk and bread formed the chief articles of food, it was my custom to fill my flask with an infusion of cold tea, made over-night from a stock kept for the purpose in my knapsack, and this I invariably found to be the most refreshing drink for such purposes. This is confirmed by all experienced in Alpine ascents, who know only too well that the man who has recourse to his flask of brandy or sherry seldom gains the mountain-top."
In the harvest-field, also, tea is being substituted for beer. At a conference of the members of the Newbury Chamber of Agriculture, held in July, 1878, Mr. T. Bland Garland maintained that nothing can be more unsuitable as a thirst-quenching beverage during hard work in hot weather than beer, and stated that in 1871 he determined to supply no more beer to his labourers under any circumstances. He had agreed as an alternative, to pay the men 18s. instead of 14s., and the women 9s. instead of 7s.; but reflecting that the people would probably find it impossible to supply themselves with a suitable substitute for the beer, and would, in a measure, be driven to the public-house, he determined to supply them with tea. He thus describes his method of brewing tea,—
"I purchased a common flat-bottomed 8½-gallon iron boiler, with a lid, long spout, and tap; this is taken in a cart to the field, with a few bricks to form a temporary fireplace, a few sticks for the fire, some tea in 7-oz. packets, and sugar in 4-lb. packets. The first thing in the morning a woman lights the fire, boils the water, the bailiff puts on the 7 ozs. of tea in a small bag, to boil for ten to fifteen minutes, then removes it and puts in 4 lbs. of sugar; if skim milk can be spared, two to four quarts are added, but this is not a necessity, although desirable. All the labourers are then at liberty to take as much as they like at all times of the day, beginning at breakfast-time, and ending when they leave off work at night. If the field is large, they send large cans to the boiler for it; so soon as the quantity in the boiler is reduced to two gallons, it is drawn off in a pail for consumption, whilst another boilerful is being prepared. The knowledge that they have at their disposal as much good tea as they choose to drink during every minute of the day materially lessens their thirst.
The cost of tea in my case is as follows:—
| s. | d. | |
| 7 ozs. of tea | 1 | 0 |
| 4 lbs. of sugar | 1 | 2 |
| Skim milk about | 0 | 2 |
| — | — | |
| 2 | 4 |
or 8½ gallons of tea, at 3¼d. per gallon.
I had twenty-eight men and women employed in hay-making this year, and the consumption was,—
| Gals. | ||
| Generally, | 2 boilers full per day | 17 |
| Occasionally, | 2½ " " | 21¼ |
| On one day, | 3 " " | 25½ |
My calculation is, that they drink on the average two-thirds of a gallon each per day, at a cost of 2d. Thus I pay them, in lieu of beer, 8d. per day in money, and 2d. in tea, or 10d. in all. But if the change involved a much larger expenditure than the cost of the beer, employers would be amply remunerated in the better and larger amount of work done, the better disposition of their labourers, the decrease of pauperism, and the general well-being of the people."
Mr. Garland, having benefited so much by the substitution of tea for beer, was naturally anxious that other farmers should follow his example, and urged them to "let the additional wages be given to the full value of the beer; let the tea be good, and made with care in the field, not sent out from the house, or there will not be enough; be sure that it is always within the reach of every labourer, without stint. See to this yourself: trust it to no one; beer has many friends. Be firm in carrying out the change, and it will be a source of great satisfaction to you and to your labourers, with very little trouble and at no extra expense." The late Sir Philip Rose testified that the men on his farm "were in better condition at the conclusion of the day, less stupid and sullen, and certainly much better fitted the next morning to resume their labours, than with the old system of beer." It would be easy to multiply extracts, but enough has been said to prove the benefit of tea over alcohol, whether in marching or fighting, cricketing or sculling, cycling or mowing. We may add that cold tea is considered by many writers on the subject one of the most refreshing and satisfactory summer drinks, provided it be not spoiled by the addition of milk and sugar. It ought to be made early in the day, and left to stand in a stone jar until thoroughly cool, and should then be flavoured, in the Russian fashion, with slices of fresh lemon.
CHAPTER VI.
TEA AS A STIMULANT.
Rum-punch and poets—Alcohol as a stimulant—The king of the tea-drinkers—Dr. Johnson's teapot—Jonas Hanway's attack—Eloquence inspired by tea-drinking—A delightful tea-story—An absent-minded poet—George Dyer's breakfast-party—An empty cupboard—Hazlitt a prodigious tea-drinker—Barry Cornwall disgusted with Hazlitt's teetotal principles—Wordsworth's love of sugar in his tea—Testimony of other authors—Tea as a tonic—Tea denounced—Tea at St. Stephen's—Lord Palmerston, Mr. Gladstone, and M. Clemenceau quoted—Hartley Coleridge's poem on tea.
When James Hogg, the "Ettrick Shepherd," visited Keswick, he invited Southey to his inn. The invitation was heartily accepted. Southey stayed half an hour, but showed no disposition to imbibe. "I was," says Hogg, "a grieved as well as an astonished man when I found that he refused all participation in my beverage of rum-punch. For a poet to refuse his glass was to me a phenomenon, and I confess I doubted in my own mind, and doubt to this day if perfect sobriety and transcendent poetical genius can exist together; in Scotland I am sure they cannot." No doubt; but, since Burns and Hogg have passed away, a new generation has arisen. The poet, the essayist, the historian, and the journalist no longer write under the influence of alcohol. As Mr. George R. Sims says, the idea that drink quickly excites the brain is exploded. Healthier stimulants have taken its place. It cannot be denied that some good work has been done under the influence of tea. Look at Dr. Johnson, for instance. That fine old Tory is worthy of the title of the king of the tea-drinkers. He loved tea quite as much as Porson loved gin. Tea was Johnson's only stimulant. He drank it in bed, he drank it with his friends, and he drank it while compiling his dictionary. One of his friends thus describes his mode of life: "About twelve o'clock I commonly visited him, and frequently found him in bed, or declaiming over his tea, which he drank very plentifully. He generally had a levee of morning visitors, chiefly men of letters. He declaimed all the morning, then went to dinner at a tavern, where he commonly stayed late, and then drank his tea at some friend's house, over which he loitered a great while, but seldom took supper." At his house in Gough Square, off Fleet Street, he frequently drank tea with his dependants, some of whom were blind, and some were deaf. Boswell has left us a graphic picture of these interesting gatherings:—"We went home to his house to tea. Mrs. Williams made it with sufficient dexterity, notwithstanding her blindness," though he describes her putting her fingers into the cups to feel if they were full; but then it was Johnson's favourite beverage, and he adds, "I willingly drank cup after cup, as if it had been the Heliconian Spring. There was a pretty large circle there, and the great doctor was in very good humour, lively and ready to talk upon all sorts of subjects." Mr. F. Sherlock, a fertile writer on the temperance question, claims Dr. Johnson as a teetotaler, and has placed him in his gallery of "Illustrious Abstainers." If the learned doctor was an abstainer from alcoholic drinks, he made up for his abstinence from wine by indulging to excess in the milder and less dangerous stimulant of tea. If he did not write his dictionary by the aid of the Chinese drink, his teapot was never far away from his writing-table. "I suppose," said Boswell, "that no person ever enjoyed with more relish the infusion of that fragrant leaf than Johnson. The quantities which he drank at all hours were so great, that his nerves must have been uncommonly strong not to have been extremely relaxed by such an intemperate use of it; but he assured me he never felt the least inconvenience from it."
Johnson's indulgence did not escape the notice of Jonas Hanway, who was so alarmed for the safety of the nation that he wrote an essay on "Tea and its Pernicious Consequences," pronouncing it the ruin of the nation, and of every one who drank it. Johnson replied to the attack, and described himself as a "hardened and shameless tea-drinker, whose kettle has scarcely time to cool; who with tea amuses the evening, with tea solaces the midnight, and with tea welcomes the morning." Johnson's defence did not, however, silence, his critics. Sir John Hawkins characterized tea-drinking as unmanly, and, like John Wesley, almost gave it the colour of a crime. The worthy lexicographer, it must be confessed, was a thirsty soul, for his teapot held at least two quarts. But Mr. Philip Gilbert Hamerton writes of a clergyman whose tea-drinking indulgences exceeded those of Johnson. This self-denying Christian, who "from the most conscientious motives denied himself ale and wine, found a fountain of consolation in the teapot. His usual allowance was sixteen cups, all of heroic strength, and the effect upon his brain seems to have been altogether favourable, for his sermons were both long and eloquent."
Dr. Gordon Stables offered prizes for original anecdotes about this delightful and healthful beverage, but he laments that he obtained none worthy of printer's ink, and has come to the conclusion that tea is not the drink of his beloved country; that, had he offered prizes for anecdotes about whisky-drinking, "Scotia, my auld, respected mither, would have shown out in a different light." No doubt; Scotland has long been famous for rigid orthodoxy, combined with a love of whisky; but Mr. Stables must have forgotten the delightful tea-story told by Barry Cornwall about George Dyer. Dyer seems to have been as absent-minded as Bowles,[2] the poet.
Barry Cornwall says,—
"Poor George Dyer—whom Lamb has celebrated—formed one subject of conversation this evening. He invited some one—I think it was Llanos, the author of 'Esteban' and 'Sandoval'—to breakfast with him one day in Clifford's Inn. Dyer, of course, forgot all about the matter very speedily after giving the invitation; and when Llanos went at the appointed hour, he found nothing but little Dyer, and his books, and his dust—the work of years—at home. George, however, was anything but inhospitable, as far as his means or ideas went; and on being told that Llanos had come to breakfast, proceeded to investigate his cupboard. He found the remnant of a threepenny loaf, two cups and saucers, a little glazed teapot, and a spoonful of milk. They sat down, and (Dyer putting the hot water into the teapot) commenced breakfast. Llanos attacked the stale crust, which Lazarillo de Tomes himself would have despised, and waited with much good-humour and patience for his tea. At last, out it came. Dyer, who was half blind, kept pouring out—nothing but hot water from the teapot, until Llanos, who thought a man might be guilty of too much abstinence, inquired if Dyer had not forgot the tea. 'God bless me!' replied Dyer, 'and so I have.' He began immediately to remedy his error, and emptied the contents of a piece of brown paper into the teapot, deluged it with water, and sat down with a look of complete satisfaction. 'How very odd it was that I should make such a mistake!' said Dyer. However, he now determined to make amends, and filled Llanos' cup again. Llanos thought the tea had a strange colour, but not having dread of aqua tofana before his eyes, he thrust his spoon in and tasted. It was ginger! Seeing that it was in vain to expect commonplaces from the little absentee, Llanos continued cutting and crumbling a little bread into his plate for a short time, and then departed. He went straight to a coffee-house in the neighbourhood, and was just finishing a capital breakfast when Dyer came in, to read the paper, or to inquire after some one who frequented the coffee-house. He recognized Llanos, and asked him how he did; but felt no surprise at seeing him devouring a second breakfast. He had totally forgotten all the occurrences of the morning."
Hazlitt, like Dr. Johnson, was a prodigious tea-drinker, and his peculiar habits and manners were minutely photographed by his friends. His failings were, no doubt, greatly exaggerated, but we believe ourselves on safe ground in quoting Patmore's account of his friend's devotion to the teapot:—
"Hazlitt usually rose at from one to two o'clock in the day—scarcely ever before twelve; and if he had no work in hand, he would sit over his breakfast (of excessively strong black tea, and a toasted French roll) till four or five in the afternoon—silent, motionless, and self-absorbed, as a Turk over his opium-pouch; for tea served him precisely in this capacity. It was the only stimulant he ever took, and at the same time the only luxury; the delicate state of his digestive organs prevented him from tasting any fermented liquors. He never touched any but black tea, and was very particular about the quality of that, always using the most expensive that could be got; and he used, when living alone, to consume nearly a pound in a week. A cup of Hazlitt's tea (if you happened to come in for the first brewage of it) was a peculiar thing; I have never tasted anything like it. He always made it himself, half filling the teapot with tea, pouring the boiling water on it, and then almost immediately pouring it out, using with it a great quantity of sugar and cream. To judge from its occasional effect upon myself, I should say that the quantity Hazlitt drank of this tea produced ultimately a most injurious effect upon him, and in all probability hastened his death, which took place from disease of the digestive organs. But its immediate effect was agreeable, even to a degree of fascination; and not feeling any subsequent reaction from it, he persevered in its use to the last, notwithstanding two or three attacks, similar to that which terminated his life."
From Barry Cornwall, also, we have similar testimony concerning Hazlitt's indulgence. Proctor was as much disgusted with Hazlitt's spare diet as Llano's was with Dyer's, and wrote,—
"I saw a great deal of Hazlitt during the last twelve or thirteen years of his stormy, anxious, uncomfortable life. In 1819 he resided in a small house in York Street, Westminster, where I visited him, and where Milton had formerly dwelt; afterwards he moved from lodging to lodging, and finally went to live at No. 6, Frith Street, Soho, where he fell ill and died. I went to visit him very often during his late breakfasts (when he drank tea of an astounding strength), not unfrequently also at the Fives Court, and at other persons' houses; and once I dined with him. This (an unparalleled occurrence) was in York Street, when some friend had sent him a couple of Dorking fowls, of which he suddenly invited me to partake. I went, expecting the usual sort of dinner; but it was limited solely to the fowls and bread. He drank nothing but water, and there was nothing but water to drink. He offered to send for some porter for me, but, being out of health at the time, I declined, and escaped soon after dinner to a coffee-house, where I strengthened myself with a few glasses of wine."
PRESSING BAGS OF TEA.
Proctor would have fared little better had he visited the Lake poets; for, according to Miss Mitford, "the Wordsworths have no regular meals, but go to the cupboard when hungry, and eat what they want." Wordsworth, by the way, appears to have liked his tea well sweetened; for, when he visited Charles Lamb, at his lodgings in Enfield, one of the extra "teas" in the week's bill was charged sixpence. On Lamb's inquiry what this meant, the reply was, that "the elderly gentleman"—meaning Wordsworth—"had taken such a quantity of sugar in his tea." Proctor, on the other hand, seems to have had a deep-rooted antipathy to tea, and to have found a wife who shared his feelings. Writing to his "lady-love," he said, "Will your friend give me some blanc-mange? but no, I don't like blanc-mange. I hate nothing but green tea, and my enemies, and insincerity, and affectation, and undue pretence. It is partly, I believe, because you have none of these that I love you so much." No; he liked something stronger than tea, and wrote of "brains made clear by the irresistible strength of beer." But some of the sweetest poems, the brightest novels, and the finest essays have been written without the aid of either wine or beer. Shelley's beverage, for instance, consisted of copious and frequent draughts of cold water, but tea was always grateful. Bulwer Lytton's breakfast consisted of dry toast and a cup of cold tea, or hot tea impatiently tossed into a tumbler half full of cold water. De Quincey said that he usually drank tea from eight o'clock at night to four in the morning. Kant's breakfast consisted of a cup of tea and a pipe of tobacco, and on these he worked eight hours. Motley, the historian, usually rose before seven, and, with the aid of a cup of tea or coffee, wrote until the family breakfast-hour. That revolutionary poet, Victor Hugo, drinks tea, but fortifies it with a drop of rum.
More than three hours a day at the work of literary production is generally considered destructive; but a case is known to the author in which a well-known writer has been engaged in literary composition from seven to ten hours a day for at least ten years. The work he has accomplished in every department of literature during this period is truly astonishing: and its quality is admittedly high. Yet his only stimulant is tea. He is practically a life abstainer, and has never used tobacco. After a spell of work extending over three hours, a cup of tea and a break of half an hour have enabled him to resume his work and to continue writing far into the night. Tea is becoming the favourite stimulant of brain-workers; and although De Quincey drank laudanum for some time, he was enthusiastic in his praise of tea. He said,—
"For tea, though ridiculed by those who are naturally coarse in their nervous sensibilities, or are become so from wine-drinking, and are not susceptible of influence from so refined a stimulant, will always be a favourite beverage of the intellectual; and, for my part, I would have joined Dr. Johnson in a bellum internecinum against Jonas Hanway, or any other impious person who should have presumed to disparage it. But here, to save myself the trouble of too much verbal description, I will introduce a painter, and give him directions for the rest of the picture.... Paint me, then, a room seventeen feet by twelve, and not more than seven and a half feet high, ... and near the fire paint me a tea-table; and (as it is clear that no creature can come to see one on such a stormy night), place only two cups and saucers on the tea-tray; and if you know how to paint such a thing, symbolically or otherwise, paint me an eternal teapot—eternal à parte ante and à parte post; for I usually drink tea from eight o'clock at night to four in the morning. And as it is very unpleasant to make tea, or to pour it out for oneself, paint me a lovely young woman sitting at the table."
But even a "lovely young woman" would have failed to satisfy the tastes of the historian Buckle, who was a most fastidious tea-drinker. "No woman," he declared, "could make tea until he had taught her." The great thing, he believed, was to have the cups and even the spoons warmed. Commenting upon the confession of William Cullen Bryant, that he never took coffee or tea, William Howitt said,—"I regularly take both, find the greatest refreshment in both, and never experienced any deleterious effects from either, except in one instance, when by mistake I took a cup of tea strong enough for ten men. On the contrary, tea is to me a wonderful refresher and reviver. After long-continued exertion, as in the great pedestrian journeys that I formerly made, tea would always, in a manner almost miraculous, banish all my fatigue and diffuse through my whole frame comfort and exhilaration, without any subsequent evil effect. I am quite well aware that this is not the experience of many others—my wife among the number—on whose nervous system tea acts mischievously, producing inordinate wakefulness, and, its continuous use, indigestion. Yet," he wisely adds, "this is one of the things that people should learn and act upon, namely, to take such things as suit them, and avoid such as do not." This is, as a rule, the safest course to pursue, and it is adopted by all sensible persons.
To that brilliant historian, Mr. Justin McCarthy, M.P., tea is not only the most useful stimulant, but the best defence against headache. "I have," he writes, "always been a liberal drinker of tea. I have found it of immense benefit in keeping off headache, my only malady. Probably tea-drinking, even if not immoderate, does some hurt to the nerves; but I have never been able to satisfy myself that this is so in my case. Certainly, few men have worked harder and suffered less from ill-health than myself." Another famous man of letters testifies to the value of tea: "The only sure brain-stimulants with me," writes Professor Dowden, "are plenty of fresh air and tea; but each of these in large quantities produces a kind of intoxication; the intoxication of a great amount of air causing wakefulness, with a delightful confusion of spirits, without the capacity of steady thought; tea intoxication unsettles and enfeebles my will; but then a great dose of tea often does get good work out of me (though I may pay for it afterwards), while alcohol renders all mental work impossible." "Tea is my favourite tonic when I am tired or languid," confesses Mr. George R. Sims, "and always has a stimulating effect." And the Rev. John Clifford, an able and scholarly Baptist minister, testifies that tea has enabled him to accomplish some very hard work. He says,—
"For at least a quarter of a century I have attempted to solve the problem how to get the maximum of power out of a somewhat feeble body, and retain the maximum of health; but having been a total abstainer for nearly twenty-eight years, I have no experience of the relation of alcoholics and narcotics to the solution of the problem. In preparing for a succession of examinations (B.A., M.A., LL.D., and B.Sc.) at the London University, whilst I had to discharge the duties of a London pastorate, I drank tea somewhat copiously, on an average thrice a day. I worked twelve and sometimes fourteen hours a day over extended periods, preached regularly to the same congregation thrice a week, directed the affairs of an aggressive church, conducted several classes for young men, and at the same time matriculated in the First Class, took a First Class B.A., was bracketed first at the M.A., took honours at the LL.B. and at the B.Sc. in three subjects; and I found that on tea I could work longer, with a clearer head, and with more sustained intensity, than on any other beverage. But I am convinced that good as tea-drinking is for prolonged mental strain, it was very prejudicial to me, and has permanently lowered the digestive force. Raisins (as suggested by Sir W. Gull) and grapes I have found in more recent years a most convenient and effective method of reinforcing mental strength whilst at work; but the wisest course is to keep as robust health as possible, by horse exercise, or daily walks in the early morning, and before retiring to rest, by the use of dumb-bells and the gymnastic bat."
Harriet Martineau strongly condemned the use of alcohol by brain-workers, and said that her stimulants were fresh air and cold water; but this remarkable old maid dearly loved a cup of tea. Maclise sketched her sitting by the fireside, her feet on the fender, steadying with one hand a pan on the fire, teapot, cup and saucer and milk-jug on the table by her side, and her cat nestling on her shoulder. Miss Ellen Terry also finds tea the best stimulant. In reply to the question, "What do you drink?" put to her by a Chicago reporter, she stated that her favourite beverage was tea. She takes tea after every meal, and also the first thing in the morning.
Professor Everett, of Belfast, on the other hand, says that he has frequently suffered more from nervous excitability due to tea or coffee, than from any other kind of stimulant. Mr. Philip Gilbert Hamerton, the artist, confesses that at one time he did himself harm by drinking tea, but has given up coffee as well as tea. The Rev. Henry Solly, who has laboured for many years among workingmen, has abstained from tea and coffee during the last fifteen years, as they caused nervous excitement, prostration, sleeplessness, and great inequality of spirits. He hardly likes, however, denouncing the use of tea, as it seems to him the only refuge (except coffee, which to some constitutions is more injurious) for those persons who, though of a nervous and excitable temperament, cannot persuade themselves to give up all stimulants, and yet desire to discountenance the use of alcohol. But he is quite sure that it causes or promotes many nervous diseases, particularly neuralgia, and not seldom leads to that "sinking" and depression which is so frequent a cause of resort being had to "nips" in the shape of glasses of wine or spirits.
Mr. Solly is not alone in his unwillingness to denounce the use of tea, because, whatever maybe said against tea-drinking, its objectors cannot but admit that it is the least harmful of stimulants.[3] What is there to take its place? "Once," remarks Dr. Inman, of Liverpool, "I was an unbeliever in tea, and during the many days of solitary misery which I had to endure in consequence of the delicacy of children and their absence with mamma at the seaside, I tried to do without it. Hot water and cold, milk and cream, soda water and brandy, water and nothing at all, were tried in succession to sweep those cobwebs from the brain, which a dinner and a consequent snooze left behind them. It was all in vain—I was good for nothing, and the evenings intended to be devoted to work were passed in smoking, gossip, or novel-reading. I took to tea, and all was changed; and now I fully believe that a good dinner, 'forty winks,' and a cup of strong tea afterwards will enable a man to 'get through' no end of work, especially of a mental kind."
Replying to the argument that as the lower animals do without tea and coffee, so ought we, Dr. Poore emphasizes the fact that we are not lower animals; that we have minds, as well as bodies; and that since these substances have the property in common of enabling us to forget our worries and fatigues, to make light of misfortunes, and generally to bear "the stings and arrows of outrageous fortune," let us accept them, make rational use of them, and be thankful. The super-dietetic-purists, who caution us against "those poisonous liquids, milk, water, and tea," have furnished Mr. George R. Sims with a congenial topic for his facile pen. From "The Drinker's Dirge" we quote the following lines:—
"In trying from all things our lips to debar,
Hasn't Science just gallop'd his hobby too far?
Let the nervous go thirsting, they shan't frighten me
With this nonsense concerning milk, water, and tea."
Turning from literature to politics, we find that Lord Palmerston resorted to tea to refresh him during the midnight hours he spent at St. Stephen's. Mr. Gladstone confessed a short time ago at Cannes, that he drank more tea between midnight and four in the morning than any other member of the House of Commons; and strange to say, the strongest tea, although taken immediately before going to bed, never interferes with his sleep. M. Clemenceau, the leader of the French Radicals, is also reported to have owned himself an intemperate bibber of tea. Both wondered how, before tea was imported into Europe, our forefathers got on without it.[4] It was remarked that manners had become more polite and nations more humane since the introduction of the Chinese beverage, on hearing which Mr. Gladstone exclaimed, "Oh! there were great and admirable characters in the Middle Ages."
Although Sir Charles Dilke grows wine, he never drinks it, finding in tea a better stimulant. At one time Cobden was an abstainer from intoxicating drinks, which he declared useless for sustaining strength; "for the more work I have had to do, the more I have resorted to the pump and the teapot." The hero of the Anti-Corn-Law League felt more at home drinking tea than dining with great people. The formalities of dinner parties were extremely irksome to him. "I have been obliged," he says, "to mount a white cravat at these dinner-parties much against my will, but I found a black stock was quite out of character." In another letter he writes, "I assure you I would rather find myself taking tea with you than dining with lords and ladies." But as the leader of a great movement, he found it necessary to sacrifice personal tastes and to endure the afflictions of dinner-parties, for the sake of securing the support of the aristocracy.
Turning to the literature of the subject, it is interesting to learn that Hartley Coleridge was in his youth fond of tea. In Blackwood's Magazine (vol. 55, 1857) appears "An Unpublished Poem," by Hartley Coleridge, with the following note by the editor: "This early production of the late Hartley Coleridge may not be without interest, as it describes a state of social manners which is already passing away, in a style of composition which belongs in some measure to the past." The poem commences thus:—
"Though all unknown to Greek and Roman song,
The paler Hyson and the dark Souchong,
Though black, not green, the warbled praises share
Of knightly troubadour or gay trouvère.
Yet deem not thou, an alien quite to numbers,
That friend to prattle, and that foe to slumbers,
Which Kian-Long, imperial poet praised
So high that cent. per cent. its price was raised;
Which Pope himself would sometimes condescend
To plead commodious at a couplet's end;
Which the sweet bard of Olney did not spurn,
Who loved the music of the 'hissing urn,'
Let her who bade me write, exact the Muse,
Inspire my genius and my tea infuse,
So shall my verse the hovering sylphs delight,
And critic gnomes relinquish half their spite,
Clear, warm and flowing as my liquid theme,
As sweet as sugar and as smooth as cream."
Happy would it have been for the young poet if he had remained a tea-drinker, and had never known the taste of alcohol.
But Cowper is the poet of the tea-table. He it is whom the amateur reporters love to quote, or, rather, misquote, when they describe the friends at a tea-party, "partaking of the cup that cheers, but not inebriates." What the poet really said is found in Book the Fourth of the "Task."
"Now stir the fire, and close the shutters fast,
Let fall the curtains, wheel the sofa round,
And while the bubbling and loud-hissing urn
Throws up a steamy column, and the cups
That cheer, but not inebriate, wait on each,
So let us welcome peaceful evening in."