Water is certainly the most ancient beverage, the most simple, natural, and the most common, which nature has given to mankind. But it is necessary to be really thirsty in order to drink water, and as soon as this craving is satisfied it becomes insipid and nauseous. What is then to be done? Cyrus would have said: “Drink no more;” so would a teetotaler of the present day. In the first ages of the world, the human race, bound by no oath of temperance, succeeded, by sheer application of their ingenuity, in finding something better, or perhaps worse, according to the ideas of certain moralists, whose wise teaching, however, commands respect. Certain it is that water, continuing to be regarded with peculiar favour, was called to play a principal part in various combinations by which it lost its insipidity and inoffensive properties, and acquired the wonderful power of provoking a sort of madness, known by the name of drunkenness.

Those beverages which man imbibes when he is no longer thirsty, which cloud his weak mind, and render him ill when in good health, are called fermented liquors.

Beer is one of the most ancient. If we are to believe Diodorus of Sicily, Bacchus himself invented it.[XXVI_1] However, it is certain that the absolute injunction not to drink wine, caused the inhabitants of Egypt to have recourse to a factitious beverage obtained from barley,[XXVI_2] often mentioned in history under the name of zythum and curmi,[XXVI_3] and whose invention has been often attributed to Osiris—which means, that its precise origin is entirely unknown.

It was a kind of beer composed of barley, and capable of being preserved for a long time without decomposing;[XXVI_4] for instead of hops, utterly unknown in that country, a bitter infusion of lupins was added.[XXVI_5]

The Egyptians also used Assyrian corn in its composition, and probably other aromatic plants, in which each one followed his peculiar taste. The method of brewing varied much among them;[XXVI_6] but the one here mentioned was that most generally in use to procure zythum in Lower Egypt, where it was converted, like our beer, into vinegar, which the Greek merchants of Alexandria exported to the European ports.[XXVI_7]

The Egyptians long drank nothing but this fermented liquor, because the followers of Osiris believed that when Jupiter crushed the Titans with thunderbolts, their blood, mixing with the earth, produced the vine. They invented the zythum as a substitute for wine.[XXVI_8]

It is not probable that the Greeks, whose wines were so renowned in antiquity, thought much of beer. Nevertheless, Aristotle[XXVI_9] mentions drunkenness being caused by drinking a beverage drawn from barley. Æschylus[XXVI_10] and Sophocles[XXVI_11] mention a liquor procured from the same cereal.

The use of beer spread rapidly in Gaul, where wine was but little known before the time of Probus. The Emperor Julian, governor of this country, acquaints us of this fact in an epigram.[XXVI_12]

The Spaniards, and the aborigines of Britany and Germany, also delightfully intoxicated themselves with an “infusion of barley,” called by the first of these nations, coelia, ceria, cerevisia,[XXVI_13] and curmi by the two latter. These various denominations signify literally, strong water,[XXVI_14] and this fermented drink was common to the nations just indicated.[XXVI_15] All the people of Western Europe drank a strong liquor made with grain and water. The manner of preparing it was not the same in Spain, in Gaul, and elsewhere; but everywhere it possessed the same dangerous properties.

“Man,” says Pliny, “is so skilful in flattering his vices, that he has even found means to render water poisonous and intoxicating.”[XXVI_16]

The Danes and Saxons gave themselves up to an enormous consumption of zythum and curmi, kinds of ale and beer, varying in no other respect than in the manner of preparing them.[XXVI_17] The warlike piety of their ingenuous and coarse-minded heroes, desired no greater recompense, after a life of fatigue and rough combats, than to sing the praises of Odin amidst eternal banquets, where these exhilarating beverages might unceasingly maintain the joy and bravery of the warriors.[XXVI_18]

The ancient Britons had many vines, but they esteemed them only as ornaments to their gardens; and they preferred, says CÆsar, the wine of grain to that of grapes.[XXVI_19] It is historically demonstrated that the English, at a very early epoch, applied themselves to the making of beer.

It is mentioned in the laws of Ina, Chief, or King, of Wessex; and this liquor held a distinguished rank among those that appeared at a royal feast in the reign of Edward the Confessor.[XXVI_20]

Under the Normans, ale acquired a reputation it has ever since maintained. Two gallons cost only one penny in the cities; in the country, four gallons might be obtained at the same price. Happy age! happy ale drinkers! At that period—the golden age for the apostles of the Britannic Bacchus—the brewers rendered no account of the preparation of this beloved beverage. The English nation did not yet purchase the right of intoxicating themselves: it was not till the year 1643 that this authorization was to be bought.[XXVI_21]

The use of hops would appear to be of German invention. They were employed in the Low Countries at the beginning of the 14th century; but it was not till the 16th that they were appreciated in England.[XXVI_22]

Can it be true that beer or ale possessed, in certain cases, strange curative properties? We find the following fact in a statistical account of Scotland.[XXVI_23]

A poor coal miner of the county of Clackmannan, named William Hunter, had been long suffering with acute rheumatism, or obstinate gout, which deprived him of the use of his limbs. The eve of the first Monday of the year 1758, some of his neighbours came to pass the evening with him. Ale was drunk, and they got merry. The jolly fellow never failed to empty his glass at each round. Scotch ale is a seductive drink, and as perfidious as pleasure: it bewilders the senses, and finally masters the reason. William Hunter lost his, completely; but his legs were restored, and he was able to make marvellous use of them for more than twenty years. After that happy evening, never did his old enemy, the gout, dare approach him; and the worthy coal miner took care to keep it at a distance, by reiterating the remedy which had proved so beneficial. Nobody could blame him. Ale had become so dear to him! Gratitude and prudence combined to make it a duty to remain unalterably attached, and he was faithful to it till he breathed his last.

Antecedent to the use of hops beer was made in England as follows:

“To make a Hogshead of Strong Ale.—It was necessary, first of all, to make the grout, which was thus done:—Nine gallons of water was to be well boiled, and put into a brewing-vessel; when it was a little cool there was put therein three pecks of malt, which was left standing for an hour and a-half, and then it ought to be drawn off into a cooler. When it was near cold, it was put into a vessel provided for that purpose, perfectly clean, and having a cover to stop it down close. Being therein, it was closely covered down, that it might there stand to sharpen; if the weather should be cold it might require about eighteen hours, but if it was hot not quite so long. When it was ripe enough, upon the sudden opening of the vessel, the strength of the fume arising from the liquour would near, if not entirely, extinguish a lighted candle, which ought to be provided short on purpose, and holden over for the proof thereof. When the brewer was satisfied that the grout was properly ripened, he poured it forth into the copper, and boiled it moderately upon a slow fire for about an hour, constantly stirring it all the while, and to know when it was boiled enough he provided a small ashen stick, which, being alighted at the fire, he thrust suddenly into the boiling liquor, drawing it forth as quick as possible, when, if the fire on the stick remained still unextinguished, it was well boiled, but not if it were otherwise. This being done, the liquor was put into a vessel of twenty gallons, or thereabouts, and yeast put to it, that it might work, which when it had sufficiently done, it was ready for the wort to be put to it. The wort might be brewed of what strength the brewer should please, so that it did not exceed sixty gallons to the above proportion of grout. The grout being now properly ripe, and having worked enough, a quantity of the wort, sufficient to fill up the twenty-gallon vessel into which the grout is put, must be poured upon it, and then the whole drawn off into the yeeling fatt, and there, being mixed with the remainder of the wort, is left to work together, which when it hath sufficiently done, it must be strained off into the hogshead, through a hair sieve made for that purpose, where it must also work like other beer or ale.”[XXVI_24]

In the ninth year of Edward II., things being very scarce, a gallon of ale was sold for twopence, of the better sort for threepence, and of the best for fourpence; but the Londoners ordained that, in the City, a gallon of the bettermost sort of ale should be sold for three-halfpence, and of the small ale for one penny only.[XXVI_25]

Holinshed says[XXVI_26] that every kind of wine could be procured in England. “Nevertheless,” he adds, “ale and beere beare the greatest brunt in drincking, which are of so many sortes and ages as it pleaseth the brewer to make them. The beere that is used at noblemen’s tables is commonly of a yeare olde (or, peradventure, of twoo yeares’ tunning, or more, but this is not general); it is also brued in Marche, and is therefore called Marche beere; but for the household it is usually not under a monthe’s age, eache one coveting to have the same stale as he might, so that was not soure, and the breade new as possible, so that be not hote.”

Formerly, they drank beer in some parts of France—in others, wine. Perhaps it is the same now. This difference of taste gave rise to a rather jocose dispute between a grey friar and a white friar. One, who was a Fleming, was for beer; the other, who was from Bordeaux, was for wine. The Fleming cited passages without number from antiquity in proof of the excellence of beer, known by the ancients under the name of zithum, or curmi. The one from Bordeaux was not so learned, but he was a native of Bordeaux, and with one word he terminated the dispute. “Brother,” said he to his adversary, “I maintain that there is as much difference between wine and beer as there is between St. Francis and St. Dominick.” The whole community were for the Bordeaux monk, and the Fleming was reduced to silence.[XXVI_27]

Braket was formerly the cherished drink of the lower classes in England. Arnold describes the preparation of it, in his “Chronicles of London:”

“Take a pot of good ale and put thereto a porcyon of honey and pepper, in this manner:—When thou hast good ale, lete it stonde (stand) in a pott two dayes, and then drawe out a quart, or a pottell, of that ale, and putt to the honey, and set it over the fyre and let it sethe well, and take it of the fyre and scume it clene; and then sat it over the fyre and scume it agayne, and then let it keele a whyle, and put thereto the pepper, and then set hym on the fyre and let him boyle well togyder, with esy fyre, but clere. Take four gallons of good ale, a pynte of fyn tryed hony, and about a saucerful of powder of peper.”

Beer was hot unknown in Italy, but the Romans never granted it their serious attention.[XXVI_28] We will give a brief sketch of those beverages which, among them and the Greeks, replaced wine with greater or less advantage.

Convalescents, sober persons who resisted the sweet seductions of Falernian and Chios wines, drank a kind of barley-water ptisana, a sorry liquid, of which the following is the recipe for the use of the abstemious of the present day. They placed barley in water, and left it there until it swelled; it was then dried in the sun, then beaten to deprive it of its husk, and ground. Then, when it had been boiled in water for a long time, it was again exposed to the sun. When they wished to drink barley-water, a small quantity of this flour was boiled, the water was strained off, and a few drops of vinegar were added.[XXVI_29] The disciples of Comus have always shuddered at this beverage, when only mentioned.

The oxycratus was not much better. It was a mixture of water and vinegar, with which the lower orders contented themselves when they could obtain nothing more exhilarating to drink;[XXVI_30] and with which the soldiers, especially in the camp, were compelled to quench their thirst.[XXVI_31]

Some passages from Pliny, and also from other authors, prove that the ancients were acquainted with cider.[XXVI_32] It is, however, asserted that the use of this beverage goes no farther back than three or four centuries, either in England or France;[XXVI_33] but this cannot be a fact with regard to the last-named country, since the capitulars of Charlemagne place among the number of ordinary trades that of sicerator, or “cider maker.” This “wine of apples,”[XXVI_34] it is said, was very common among the Hebrews. That is possible, but it would, nevertheless, be difficult to prove it from the holy writings, since the word schecar, which has been translated by sicera, and which, again, has been rendered into cider, signifies all kinds of intoxicating beverage, whether made from grain, honey, or fruit.[XXVI_35]

Gaul, covered with forests, and swarming with bees, possessed an immense quantity of wild honey, of which, by the aid of fermentation in water, the inhabitants composed a strong and intoxicating drink, called hydromel. This beverage, highly esteemed both in Rome and Greece, was prepared in the following manner: rain water was kept some time, and then boiled until reduced to one-third, to which honey was added.[P] This mixture was exposed to the sun for the space of forty days; it was then placed in a vessel, and by these means they obtained, in time, a vinous hydromel very similar to our Madeira wine.[XXVI_36] To make oxymel, still more heady, ten pounds of honey were mixed with two pints and a half of old vinegar, and one pound of sea-salt; the whole boiled only an instant in five pints of water. This liquor was left to get very old.[XXVI_37]

Juice of quinces and honey, boiled in water, produced hydromelon, a delicious drink, which our century might envy the delicate drinkers of Athens and Rome,[XXVI_38] especially when roses had been added to this nectar, which changed it into hydrorosatum.[XXVI_39]

The apomeli was nothing more than water in which honeycomb had been boiled.[XXVI_40] Omphacomeli, an ingenious mixture of honey and verjuice, quenched thirst during the summer, and produced that agreeable gaiety which is to drunkenness what doziness is to sleep.[XXVI_41]

A mixture of honey and juice of myrtle seed, of course diluted with water, composed myrtites, the aromatic flavour of which flattered the palate, and rendered the breath more sweet.[XXVI_42] Sometimes pomegranates were substituted for the myrtle, and it was then called rhoites, and possessed an agreeable and pungent flavour.[XXVI_43]

Wine made of dates enjoyed a general esteem in the east. The Romans, who knew also how to appreciate it, prepared it by throwing into water some common, though very ripe, dates; and when they had well soaked, they were put under a press.[XXVI_44] The same means were employed to procure fig wine; but often the sediment of grapes was used instead of water, to prevent its being too sweet.[XXVI_45]

“Artificial wines” were also procured by the aid of several other kinds of fruits, such as sorbs, medlars, and mulberries.[XXVI_46] Fermentation dispelled the sweet and insipid flavour which generally distinguishes these fruits; and, at the commencement of a repast, the guests swallowed with delight large cups of these beverages.[XXVI_47]

It was also the custom to serve very cold water, in which certain plants had been infused, and which was freshened by being surrounded with snow after it had been boiled for some time. The invention of this iced water is attributed to the Emperor Nero, who made great use of it; and who appears to have bitterly regretted it when, dethroned and flying from his assassins, he was constrained through excessive thirst to drink muddy water from a ditch. The unfortunate CÆsar then, for the first time, thought of the strange vicissitudes of fortune, and casting a sorrowful glance at the disgusting fluid he held in his hand, “Alas!” he exclaimed, with a sigh, “is this the iced water that Nero drank?”[XXVI_48]

TEA.

This plant is a native of China, and it is only in the Celestial Empire that tea is cultivated to any great extent. Why, then, is it neglected on all other points of the globe situated in the same latitude? Doubtless, because the soil of China is superior for its culture to that of any other country.

The shrub that produces tea is cultivated between the twenty-third and thirty-third degrees of latitude; it thrives on the mountainous parts, on the slope of the hills, and that which grows on high ground is far superior to that gathered in the valleys. It is the same with this plant as with the vine in France and in Europe; it grows on flat land, and succeeds wonderfully on plains exposed to the sun’s rays.

The Chinese export teas of the first quality in much greater proportion than those of an inferior kind. In England there is a larger consumption than in any other country in the world.

In China, the tea that forms the habitual beverage of the people is a very inferior species of the Boo tea.

The provinces of Kiang-Nang, Kiang-Si, and Che-Kiang, furnish green tea to Russia, the United States, Calcutta, and various European countries; the province of Fo-Kien furnishes black tea to England, with the exception of a third of the boo tea, or bohee, which is exported from a district called Wo-Ping, lying to the north-west of the province of Canton.

It is in Fo-Kien that the cultivation of this precious shrub is held in the highest estimation. In this province it is deprived of a large number of its buds at the beginning of the spring. Of these are made the tea PÉ-ko, the most renowned of all kinds. Congo tea serves to perfume part of these buds, and to impart to them a more agreeable flavour.

A first gathering of full-grown leaves takes place at the commencement of May, a second towards the middle of June, and a third and last at the end of the summer. This produces a tea inferior to the preceding kinds in point of quality and perfume.

The inhabitants of Fo-Kien cultivate tea in inclosures; and at the time of harvest sell the leaves to a class of persons who undertake their preparation, which consists in drying the leaves in houses, first by the simple contact with the air, afterwards in heated warehouses. When the preparation is terminated, the merchants come and make choice of the best qualities; then the desiccation of the tea is finished, and it is forwarded in packets, each bearing its proper designation.

As soon as the leaves have been gathered and selected, they are plunged in boiling water, where they remain about thirty seconds; they are then quickly withdrawn, strained, and thrown on iron plates, large and flat, placed above a furnace: the workmen’s hands can hardly endure the heat of these plates. They continually stir the leaves till they are sufficiently heated, after which they take them off, and spread them on large tables covered with mats. Other workmen then busy themselves with rolling them with the palm of the hand, while others cool them as quickly as possible by agitating the air with large fans. This operation must be continued until the leaves have completely cooled under the hand of the person who rolls them, for it is by being quickly cooled that the leaves remain longer curled. Thanks to the operation of rolling them, which is repeated two or three times, the leaves are deprived of their humidity, and the unwholesome bitter juice they contain. For teas of the first quality, each leaf must be rolled separately; but for more common kinds, several may be rolled at once. Tea, thus prepared, is dried, and put into boxes or cases free from moisture. The Chinese then aromatise it with various odoriferous plants, such as the flowers of the olea fragrans, and those of the camellia sesangua, shrubs of the same family as tea; or those of the scented tea-roses and orange-flowers.

This tea is destined for mandarins of the higher class, for the Calaos or ministers, and even for the celestial sovereign of the Centre of the Earth—or, in more simple words, the Emperor.

There are, in reality, but two kinds of tea, black tea and green tea; each kind is again subdivided into many varieties. The best black tea is the scented Liang-sing, worth in China about 10s. the pound.

The first of all green teas, destined for the great, and bearing an exquisite perfume, is that called Koo-lang-fyn-i. M. de Rienzi assures us that he has seen it sold in Canton for 32s. a pound.

New tea is considered by the Chinese as a powerful narcotic, therefore it is never sold until a year after the gathering.

The Europeans and Americans, who trade with tea in Canton, have recourse for their transactions with the Chinese to native tasters, or others, who know how to distinguish the different qualities at the sight of the colour produced by the infusion.

It is generally believed in Europe that tea exported thence has already served as a beverage to the Chinese. It is a mistake, propagated by persons who, having seen the tea put in water, have doubtless not well understood the reason of this operation. We must, however, admit that the merchants sometimes mix tea already used with tea of good quality; a fraud only to be discovered by the weakness of the infusion.

Tea seems likely to spread over the world. Our books, wines, brandy, cutlery, and jewellery, go round the globe, and are sought after by the civilized nations as well as the wild tribes. On the other hand, we receive our food, together with spices, from Malaisia; we sweeten them with sugar from the Antilles or Siam; we enjoy the flavour and perfume of coffee from Arabia and the Island of Bourbon; we intoxicate ourselves with tobacco from Manilla, Virginia, of Havannah, and Latakia; and we imbibe with luxurious pleasure the tea of those Chinese we are continually laughing at, but of whom we have borrowed so many useful things. We must, however, acknowledge that France is the country the least advanced in this respect, and the use of this beneficent drink is far from being as common as it ought to be. We do not fear to say that when once acquainted with the method of preparing it better than is generally done, this inferiority in the consumption will disappear. Some witty delineator of manners and customs has pourtrayed upon the joyous scene of a comic theatre of Paris, that famous tea party of Mother Gibou and Madame Pochet, one of those ridiculous Parisian and really home-scenes, much more common than is generally supposed, and although the picture is over-charged, it is nevertheless true.

It is not necessary here to give our private recipe to prepare an infusion in which that excellent lady, Madame Pochet, thought herself so perfect; suffice to say, that to make it agreeable to her guests she added salt, pepper, some cinnamon, the yolk of an egg, and a tiny drop of vinegar. We would beg the reader not to fail in attending these charming and daily meetings, at which each housewife presides, and we would say to strangers, let us seriously study an English tea.

“The use of tea in China dates from the greatest antiquity. The Japanese attribute to it a miraculous origin. They say that Darma, a very pious prince, and son of an Indian king, landed in China in the year 510 of the Christian era, and wishing to edify mankind by his example, imposed upon himself privations of all kinds. It happened, however, that after several years of great fatigue, in spite of his care he fell asleep; and believing he had violated his oath, and in order to fulfil it faithfully for the future, he cut off his eyelids and threw them on the ground. The next day, returning towards the same spot, he found them changed into a little shrub, hitherto unknown to the earth. He eat some of the leaves, which made him merry and restored his former strength. Having recommended the same food to his disciples, the reputation of tea soon spread, and has continued in use since that time.”—Desfontaines. See, also, Koempfer, in his “AmÉnitÉs Exotiques.”

We are ignorant of the period and motives which persuaded the Chinese to use tea in infusion. Perhaps it was to render water more agreeable, which is said to be brackish and of a bad taste in many parts of China. In 1641, Tulpius, a Dutch physician, was the first to mention this plant, in a dissertation he published. In 1657, Joncquet, a French physician, called it the divine plant, and compared it to ambrosia. In 1679, Cornelius Bentekoe, a Dutch physician, published a treatise, in which he declared himself a partisan of tea, and asserted that this beverage in no way could injure the stomach, even if drank to the extent of two hundred cups a day. Many of his countrymen went even beyond this: they made of it a universal panacea.

As at first the leaves of the tea plant were rare and but little known, many persons thought they had discovered in Europe what others fetched from such a distance. Thus Simon Pauli introduced the royal pimento (myria gale of Linn.), as the real tea of China. Others thought to have found the marvellous virtues of tea in plants growing in our own country, such as marjoram, veronica, myrtle, sage, agrimony, &c.; but it happily ended in granting the preference to the real tea of China and Japan.

COFFEE.

In the trade five principal kinds of coffee are enumerated—or rather, five sorts—according to the different countries from whence they come, although all derived from the same kind of coffee tree, Coffea Arabica. These five kinds are as follows:—

1st. Mocha coffee, thus called from the country whence this kind of coffee originates, a plant now so commonly spread over every American colony. The grain of this coffee is generally round and small. From Mocha coffee is derived the most sweet and agreeable beverage; it is also the most esteemed, the dearest, and holds the first rank in the trade.

2nd. The Bourbon coffee, cultivated in the Island of Bourbon; for some time it occupied the second place in quality, but the gourmets prefer to it coffee from Martinique or Guadaloupe.

3rd. There are several kinds of Martinique or Guadaloupe, distinguished by the various preparations.

4th. The Cayenne coffee. This kind is less known on account of the small quantity cultivated there, and introduced in trade. This kind is superior to the Martinique coffee.

5th. The St. Domingo coffee, in which is comprised that from Porto Rico, and other leeward islands, is considered inferior to the four other kinds.

Let us mention a few of the methods by which coffee in infusion is obtained.

It is not exactly known who introduced the custom of taking coffee. Some attribute its use to the prior of a convent, who becoming acquainted with the properties of this plant by the effect it produced on the goats which fed upon it, tried its influence on his monks, in order to keep them awake during the performance of divine service. According to others, the discovery is due to a mufti, who, wishing to surpass in devotion the most religious dervishes, made use of coffee so as to banish sleep, and thus be enabled to pray longer without interruption. Whatever may be the origin of the use of coffee, it has become so general up to the present day that it may almost be classed among the articles of the greatest necessity. This extensive use has stimulated the industry of inventors to seek means of rendering it most pleasant to drink, as also its great consumption and high price have awaked both economy and fraud, in order to find a substitute for this agreeable beverage.

It would be useless here to describe the different methods of making coffee; it will be sufficient to mention that all those which tend to prepare it without boiling the water in which the pulverised coffee is placed, are almost equally good.

In order to supplant coffee, which in Europe was found very expensive, many different means have been tried. About fifty years since the Swiss porter of a nobleman in Paris thought of roasting acorns, which he mixed with roast coffee, ground; he sold it cheaper than any one; all bought it, and the Swiss made his fortune.

The trick, however, being discovered, all sought means of gratifying their taste without emptying their purses; barley and rye began to be mixed with coffee.

In the mountains of Virginia, in America, the inhabitants make a coffee simply of roasted rye; they by these means obtain a beverage in no way resembling coffee, but it goes by that name, and at least the imagination is satisfied.

In Belgium, in the province of Liege, coffee is mixed with wild chicory root. This method, generally known, is at the present time practised throughout the whole of Europe; and wild chicory root then opened for Liege a new branch of commerce. Lastly, in Flanders some of the inhabitants cultivate the lupin, which they complacently call coffee, and whose seed, roasted, they drink instead of real coffee.

“The infusion of coffee is thought to be beneficial to stout and phlegmatic persons, and for pains in the head; but it appears that its admixture with cream or milk prevents these good effects, on account of the relaxation it thus causes to the stomach. On the contrary, it gives strength when taken pure. It is doubtless for this reason that the inhabitants of the colonies take it three and four times a day—that is, at four o’clock in the morning, a very strong infusion, sometimes without sugar; at breakfast, with milk; after dinner, pure; and often in the afternoon, for the fourth time.”—Beauvais.

We are unacquainted with the period of the introduction of coffee into Europe. Rauwolf is the first who speaks of coffee, in 1588. Prospero Alpini then came, and described the coffee tree in Egypt by the name of bon, bun, or boun: his work appeared in 1591. In 1614, Bacon mentioned this oriental beverage, and Meissner published a treatise on it in 1621.

It was not, however, until towards the year 1645, that it began to be drunk in Italy. The first cafÉs were opened in London in 1652, and in Paris in 1669, a time at which a pound of coffee was worth forty crowns. It was principally Soliman Aga, the ambassador from Turkey, who caused coffee to become fashionable in Paris.

It penetrated into Sweden in the year 1674, where it was thought of use in scorbutic diseases. The first person who made trial of coffee with milk was Nieuhoff, the Dutch ambassador in China, in imitation of tea with milk.

“The physical effects of coffee are well known: it accelerates the circulation of the blood, but sometimes causes palpitation of the heart and giddiness; it has even been thought to occasion apoplexy and paralysis. Nevertheless, celebrated writers—such as Fontenelle and Voltaire—made constant use of it, almost to an abuse. They were told, it is a slow poison; it was indeed slow for these learned men, who died, the one at a hundred, the other eighty-four years of age. However, at the present time coffee is a beverage whose power over our intellectual or moral habits has, perhaps, never been calculated as it deserves, since it has become general, and almost suppressed the drunkenness which disgraced our ancestors at the end of their grand repasts.”—Virey.

The subject we have just slightly touched upon recalls to our recollection a whim of the charming SÉvignÉ: “Le cafÉ et Racine passeront,” said this amiable lady, nearly two hundred years ago. The beautiful marchioness was mistaken: both coffee and Racine have remained, and do not appear likely soon to bid us adieu.

CHOCOLATE.

Every one is aware that chocolate is an aliment obtained from the cocoa-nut, roasted and reduced to paste, with sugar and aromatics.

But first, the choice of cocoa nuts is not indifferent.

Those from Soconusco, from Caracas, and Maracaibo, are the best and sweetest; it is, however, well to mix with them other kinds, to correct their insipidity by a certain sharpness far from being unpleasant; thus, to four parts of Caracas cocoa, earthed—that is, rendered mild by a sojourn of some weeks under the moist earth—a part of cocoa from the Antilles, or Maragnon and Para, is added; this kind contains more of sharp and bitter matter. These cocoas are slightly torrefied in an iron pan. The Spaniards burn their cocoa much less than the Italians. Being left to grow cold, this cocoa is slightly crushed, to separate the envelopes or shells, which are thrown away. However, in England, Switzerland, and Germany, these shells serve to make, with boiling water, a warm infusion, mixed with milk and drank in lieu of real chocolate. The envelopes of torrefied coffee are employed in a similar manner in the east for the “Sultana coffee.” The mixtures of torrefied cocoa are reduced into a fat paste of a brown colour, either between stones, or by means of an iron roller upon a porphyry rock, warmed underneath by live coals; this paste, regularly ground, is at last incorporated with sugar, equal to its weight, then it is mixed together as perfectly as possible. In this chocolat de santÉ a small quantity of very fine cinnamon powder is admitted, which makes it more palatable, and neutralizes the action of the fat and heavy substance, or vegetable butter, contained in the cocoa.

“The term chocolate belongs, it is said, to the language of the Mexicans, and is derived from the two words choco, sound or noise, and atle, water, because it is beaten in boiling water to make it froth, according to the custom of this people. Before their conquest by the Spaniards, it formed the principal aliment of the Mexicans. They held the cocoa tree in such estimation, that its kernel served as current coin, and this custom even now remains.”—Humboldt.

The Mexican chocolate, besides the pimento, contained the chile, or Indian wheat-flour, with honey, or sweet juice of the agava. To this was added annotto, an astringent tinctorial juice, of a rosy hue, obtained from the seeds of the Bixa Orleana. The chieftains, or lords and warriors only, enjoyed the right of feeding on chocolate, as the most restoring aliment, and the most capable, in their opinion, of repairing worn-out strength and producing vigour. The addition of the perfume of vanilla, again, augments this quality, according to the testimony of physicians and travellers. Dias of Castilho relates that Montezuma drank vanilla chocolate, and the MarÉchal de Bellisle says, in his “Testament Politique,” that the regent, Louis Philippe d’OrlÉans regaled himself every morning with chocolate at his petit lever.

The ladies of Chiapa, in Mexico, are so fond of these perfumed chocolates that they even have them carried to eat in church. The Spanish Creole nuns have also brought to great perfection the art of preparing fine chocolate, perfumed with amber.

The use of chocolate was soon brought from Mexico, after its conquest by Fernando Cortes, into Spain, and this food has there become quite habitual. First, it easily deceives hunger by reason of its oily qualities and slow digestion; then it is softening and cooling, which renders it particularly desirable in warm climates, especially such as the Iberian peninsula. Thus the Spaniards but slightly roast their cocoa-nuts; they prefer preserving but a very slight bitterness, and mixing with it more aromatics. Besides, chocolate, so useful to dry and nervous temperaments, is an agreeable analeptic, recommended against hypochondria and melancholy, two affections so common to the Spaniards. The beggars, even, could not live without it, and they accost each other in the morning with inquiring if their lordships have taken their chocolate.

This aliment is favourable to idleness, augments the calm of the body and mind, and plunges one in a sweet quietude of far niente at a small expense.

From Spain the fashion of taking chocolate was introduced into Italy, especially by the Florentine, Antonio Carletti. The Italians extract from cocoa more exalted qualities by torrefication: they burn it till it becomes bitter. The grave question arose among them, whether chocolate taken in the morning by the monks broke the fast principally in Lent. The Cardinal Brancaccio, and other learned casuists, battled long in order to prove that chocolate, being evidently a beverage made of water, could not be in the least considered as an aliment, nor break the fast. We see, indeed, in the correspondence of the Princess des Ursins—all powerful at the court of Philip V. of Spain—and Madame de Maintenon, that the consciences of pious persons had been placed in full tranquillity by this decision, and that any one might fast during the whole Lent as perfectly by drinking chocolate as if he had only partaken of a glass of cold water.

“Chocolate became pretty common in France from the time of Anne of Austria, mother of Louis XIV.; however, it does not appear to have ever excited the same enthusiasm as coffee; it is not favourable to good cheer, nor is it exhilarating. To this may be traced, perhaps, the indifference of the English for this beverage.”—Virey.

In trade, as we have said, are distinguished a great variety of cocoas, and they are called by the name of the country whence they come. Thus we have the Caracas cocoa, the Surinam cocoa, &c. That which comes from the French possessions is called also “cocoa of the isles.” The Caracas is the most esteemed of all: it is more oily than the other kinds, and has no sharpness of flavour. It is known by being larger, rough, of an ovoid, oblong shape, not flattened, covered with a greyish dust, and by the kernel being easily divided into several irregular fragments. “The name of cacao, of which in French has been made the word cacaoyer, is that given by the inhabitants of Guiana to this grain. As to the scientific name, theobroma, LinnÆus formed it from two Greek words, signifying ‘food of the gods.’”—Demezil.