How to live in the "street called straight" : a book for hard times / by C. Kendall

O many persons in the various walks of life, the last few years have been exceedingly trying. Agriculture and all branches of trade have experienced sad depression. Nationally we were ill-schooled and poorly prepared to encounter such an altered state of things. From 1870 to 1875 were years of universal prosperity. During that period many merchants and speculators quickly amassed large fortunes. Working men, too, found themselves in a Goshen of plenty. Work was abundant, and wages in every calling went up rapidly. Increased earnings led in a vast majority of cases to increased expenditure. Luxurious habits were formed. It was the old story again in a modern dress—Jeshurun waxed fat, began to kick. Money was not only spent, it was squandered. Nor in looking back upon that time do we find that one class can plume itself on having evinced a greater degree of self-control or practical wisdom than another. The rage for spending infected all classes. How few could resist the temptation of living at a faster rate ! How few kept themselves calm during this period of inflation, content to move on the old lines of expenditure and save their surplus income against the time of reaction which it might be sure would come—as come it has. Whether owing to sun-spots or causes nearer home, stagnation settled on our industrial life. All the fountains of trade flowed with sadly diminished volume. A practical revolution has been the effect of all this. Few have escaped feeling the pinch. The moneid classes have had shrunken dividends, Landlords have had

to lower their rents or return so much per cent, to their hard-pressed tenants. In some cases their farms have remained unlet; fences, fields, and outbuildings have got to look as neglected and untidy as the sluggard’s garden Solomon speaks of. The tradesman’s receipts have sunk to a figure that he could not have dreamed of a few years ago. Failures of all magnitudes—from that of the petty grocer to the East India merchant—have been the order of the day. As for the wage-earning classes, they have felt the hardness of the times in all their rigour. In short, the spending power of the community has been largely curtailed. Signs of a revival of trade may be seen, but it is exceedingly doubtful whether things will ever reach their former pitch, and perhaps it is undesirable that they should do so.

The present time is thus pre-eminently favourable for pause, and for thoughtfully and resolutely falling in with the character and temper of the times. Now is the moment for adjusting the scale of our expenditure.

To many this is inevitable if they wish to remain honest and keep out of the Bankruptcy Court. Their incomes are inelastic. They cannot augment them if they would. They are fixed and small. Such would do well to ponder that French precept for which Cob-bett expressed so much admiration, vivre de peu—to live upon little. The problem before them is how to make the little they have go the furthest, while at the same time the great needs of life are attended to. To help such to a solution of this pressing problem is the main object of this tractate. Yet for our part we have a strong belief that even they who are in easy ’ circumstances and who may not be specially chargeable with intemperance or recklessness would be none the worse for the practice of the virtue of thrift. The way of luxury is an inclined plane. Here as elsewhere “ easy is the descent.” Many credited with being in “ easy circumstances” are, as they would tell you, living metaphorically “ in the street called Straight.” They are not so independent of circumstances as they

seem, but are the victims of fashion and. of artificial wants. These would find it a positive moral advantage to arrest their course and to reform their habits. Thrift is no class or sectional necessity. It is our national need—the need of the times. How much of our general misery is plainly preventible ! It is not wrought “ by the visitation of God,” but by the perversity and folly of men. “ Our poverty,” said the Leeds Mercury a few weeks since, “ is mainly the want of temperance and the want of thrift.” This sentence deserves—not on account of its novelty, but on account of its truth—to be written in letters of gold.

Intemperance is confessedly our national curse and disgrace. A recent writer has expressed the opinion that one purpose Shakspeare had in view in writing Hamlet was to delineate the “ causes which bring about, and the symptoms which precede national decay.” And does he not include drunkenness amongst the marks of the “ something” that was “ rotten in the state of Denmark ?” *

Makes us traduc’d, and tax’d of other nations 5 They clepe us drunkards, and with swinish phrase Soil our addition ; and indeed, it takes From our achievements, though perform’d at height,

There can be little doubt that Shakspeare had his eye on England when he penned these words. But for a few old-fashioned idioms in them they might have been written by some close observer of our land as late as yesterday. Much good and hopeful work is being done by the various temperance organizations. Drunkards are being reclaimed ; endeavours are being made on all sides to enlighten and guide public opinion, and, most promising sign of all, efforts are

being made by means of Bands of Hope to preserve the young from swelling the ranks of the intemperate. Yet despite all this, it is evident to everyone that drinking customs cling to our national life with the tenacity, and grow with the rapidity of twitch-grass. Society has made the decanter almost as much a necessity as the tea-pot. There it must stand on its sideboard ever ready for use. Occasions for a little extra drinking are always presenting themselves. Whether it be a marriage or a funeral, a home-coming or a farewell, a civic banquet or the striking of a bargain, the tumbler and the wine-glass are inevitable. The occasions may be very dissimilar, but the accompaniment of them is always the same. No god of the ancient mythologies had so many libations poured out in his honour as has this modern Bacchus of ours. No wonder that our national drink-bill is so huge ! The Lancet recently remarked, “ Mr. Childers made a most astonishing statement in a recent speech at Midlothian. He said that the increased consumption by the people in the article of spirits alone, had been sufficient to pay the whole of the votes of credit on the Eastern question, the votes for the war in South Africa, and the cost of the Afghan war.” The Lancet remarks, “ We find a confirmation in these facts of our recently expressed opinion, that while a considerable section of the people are more temperate than at any former time, the remainder are drinking more. They are foolish to drink in spirits alone as much as would pay off the above-named votes of credit. We only regret that the Premier is not a pathologist. From this point of view alone can he estimate how subtle and intense has been the sacrifice of the millions of this country to facilitate his policy, by pouring into their mouths oceans of spirit to the detriment of all the fine structures that are covered by the words ‘ liver,’ ‘ stomach,’ ‘ brain,’ etc.”

The foregoing extract is borne out by Mr. Hoyle in his interesting work on “ Our National Resources, and how they are wasted.” He adduces facts and

figures startling in the impression they leave of the extent to which drinking prevails in our land. We have 150,000 places licensed for the sale of strong drink; 18,000 retail places in London alone. In 1873 the drink bill of the country which had been 118,000,000 in 1871, rose to 140,000,000, so that a very large proportion got in high wages was spent in strong drink. It is stated that £4 ros. per head of the population of this country is spent in drink every year ; £20 per annum for every family of five persons ! Now if we subtract those persons who are abstainers and the infants and the very young, who will amount perhaps to fully half of the population, that will raise the expenditure of the other half to £9 per individual a year. £9 a year would keep a man from starvation; possibly at the end of the year he would be in better health after such a moderate expenditure than he would had he spent ^90 in food. Dr. Nichols, in his well-known tract, “ How to live on sixpence a day,” has demonstrated that it is perfectly practicable for a man’s health and strength to be kept up on sixpence a day, laid out in the purchase of plain wholesome food. The out-spoken Dr. Abernethy once told a lazy rich man full of gout and idle humours, unhappy, and without appetite, that “ he was to live on sixpence a day and earn it.” If he had followed the advice given him, £9 2s. 6d. would have represented his food bill for the year, being only 2s. 6d. more than half our population spend in intoxicants ! All these statistics relative to the consumption of strong drink are a heavy indictment against us as a nation. They point to the fact of our unthriftiness, for an intemperate nation cannot be a thrifty one. These millions spent in alcoholic beverages every year are wasted'—more than wasted. The waste is elaborate and far-reaching. There is a waste of raw material, and a waste and misdirection of labour. Not only is the money laid out in its purchase wasted, but also the money arising from the tax-payer for the support of prisons and workhouses. Worse than all there is a lamentable

Causes of drinking. Why are we so drunken as a nation? This surely is a pertinent question, and one of great practical moment. What then is the cause, or what are the causes of our national vice ? Many things no doubt contribute to the prevalency of this habit amongst us. In many it is to be feared the drink-crave is hereditary. Our climate has something to answer for. The depression, its variability, its fog and damp produce, is sought to be counteracted by artificial stimulus. Many fly to the jug and glass to escape from domestic discomfort or disagreeable surroundings. Our traditional habits, like the maelstrom, draw men into the vortex of their influence almost in spite of themselves. These traditional habits are still further confirmed by our enormous wealth which seeks out accredited and ostentatious methods of expenditure. Yet giving to each of these causes its due weight, still in our opinion much must be laid to the account of our enormous consumption of flesh with its usual accompaniments of strong and fiery condiments. Abstemious eaters and all confirmed vegetarians are seldom dry. A mild, plain, and nutritious diet prevents all craving for both intoxicants and narcotics. It is no accident,” says Professor Newman, “ that nearly every vegetarian is a teetotaller and non-smoker.” C. H. Landon remarks, “ Alcoholic beverages are to vegetarians physical impossibilities ; they burn and scorch the intestines like liquid fire. Hence, we fairly trace to the use of flesh foods that craving for strong drinks so fatally characteristic of the carniverous races of men. The machinery becomes heated by the fuel employed, and for smooth working the oiling is done by alcohol.” It was the opinion of Liebig, founded upon observation, that persons who live mostly upon farinaceous and amylaceous food (pertaining to starch) cannot take wine ; all kinds of alcoholic drinks seem to be repugnant to such.

We do not of course affirm that a person who eats freely of flesh will necessarily become a drunkard. Such an affirmation would border on the absurd. No; many influences and causes may assist in shielding a man from such a fate. What we do affirm is that the per centage of risk which the free user of flesh runs is much higher than in the case of the vegetarians. Fifty to one would about represent the comparative risk. Gross feeding and deep drinking are very near akin. The connection between a wrong diet and intemperance is beginning to attract the attention of philanthropists and scientific men, especially in America. There institutions have been opened for the admission of inebriates, in order that by a wise regimen their drink-crave may be destroyed. This is a matter in which parents and the guardians of youth have a deep personal interest. Indeed, it is a practical question for social reformers of every kind, and one which the force of circumstances will bring to the front. Our addiction to a “ generous diet” as it is euphemistically called, and what comes of it, will furnish plenty of opportunities to our philanthropists of studying how to combat the rage of perverted and unnatural appetite. .

Have we not too large a consumption of tobacco on the grounds of both expense and health ? The affirmative of this question is generally admitted by thoughtful and observant men. Personally we have no strong opinion on the use of a very small portion of the weed by a man in his own house, especially if he be one who has about fought the battle of life. But public smoking is a nuisance, and juvenile smoking is fraught with danger. The economic aspect of the smoke-question merits the serious attention of many. Supposing it not proved that its use is hurtful, can they afford to smoke ? Where does the money come

from which they puff away ? Is the money theirs, or does it rightly belong to their family or to the cause of God ? Are the due claims of the mind and body met, and is something being done to provide for future contingencies before they indulge in a burning of money ? It would be eye-opening to many users of the weed if they would take their pencil and ascertain their weekly and annual expenditure in tobacco, pipes, mouthpieces, fusees, flamers, pinches, and all the rest of the tobacco user’s apparatus. Total the amount from the beginning with interest and compound interest— how much would it amount to ? Indeed, one of the best public men of this age has supplied us with a case illustrating this point, and one which should give younger men pause in the path they have inconsiderately entered upon. An old man who had spent sixpence a day on tobacco found himself at the end of life in the workhouse. A friend reckoned w^rhat he had spent, and found that with interest and compound interest it amounted to ^3,222 ; a sufficiently startling disclosure. Indeed, abstinence from the weed may make all the difference between ease and strait-ness, in means and temporal condition. But tobacco is not a harmless luxury. Its influence on the blood, the nerves, the stomach, the heart ana the brain, is positively injurious. It diminishes vital force and enfeebles the will. Dr. Richardson, the highest living authority upon the question of narcotics, addressing workers with head or with hands, says, “ If you do not smoke, do not learn ; and if you do, learn to cease, that your work may be strengthened, and your body, which is your temple of work, purified.” Men who know the effect upon the human system produced by the “ pleasing bane” will regard with dread our annual expenditure on tobacco which amounts to about fourteen millions. Surely our nation is being narcotized ! Can our brain be as clear, our heart as sound, our will as strong, as they would have been but for this universal and continual puffing? The late Canon Stowell said, “ It is frightful to think what

a canker is eating into the vitals of the nation, blighting its young men, squandering its resources, undermining its health, and depraving its morals.”

Everyone knows what is going on night after night in thousands of sitting-rooms of this our land, to say nothing of public-house “ snuggeries” and smoke rooms. The pipe is filled and filled again, or one cigar after another lighted. Too often the glass is at the smoker’s elbow and has its turn of replenishing. But “ merry nights make sorry mornings.” When the smoker wakes from his disturbed slumbers he finds his tongue blistered, his lips and mouth parched, his throat dry, the brain excited or muddled, and the entire nervous system in a shaky condition. In this state there is no desire for plain wholesome food. His flagging energies must be stimulated by a morning dram, or his irritable nerves soothed by an afterbreakfast pipe. There can be no question that the smoking habit of our land is making sad havoc of the stamina and fibre of the nation. More especially is the practice fraught with peril to those who lead a sedentary life, as many ministers do. We think if statistics could be gathered they would prove that smoking ministers have not such a store of vitality, are not capable of as much work, and do not live as long as non-smoking ones. The injurious effects of the habit are seen in other directions. It renders men extremely selfish. Their unnatural appetite must be indulged even if it be at the expense of the feelings and rights of others. Especially is this seen in travelling. Though provision is made for the devotees of the pipe by the railway companies, yet we constantly see men obtruding into non-smoking compartments, and persisting in the gratification of their taste. To protest, to claim your right of exemption from the offensive odour of brimstone matches and bad tobacco is to subject yourself to rough words and bad temper. Public smoking is an invasion of the legitimate rights of others. A man may do as he will with his own, but he has no right to poison the air which other peo-

pie have to breathe, and which they want to inhale in its uncontaminated form. The tobacco question like the drink question is a wide one, and we cannot pretend with the space at our disposal to indicate all the evils which are connected with the practice or which result from it. Enough that he who throws away the pipe will find the renunciation favourable to “ mind, body, and estate.”

To live comfortably in hard times a bridle must be put on everything like a restless craving for change and excitement. There is no true satisfaction to be derived from it. This desire to taste new sensations if gratified at every turn will, like every other unnatural appetite, grow with what it feeds on, and attain at last to ungovernable proportions. A change of scene and a fresh environment of circumstances is right enough if a person be out of health; or if, even though well, the indulgence has been fairly earned by hard, steady industry. But it has struck the present writer that our cheap trips which are the order of the day, do little for the health of many who patronize them, from the fact that they are made the occasion of excess and riot. Were our Saturday afternoon excursions and trips to the sea-side marked by selfrestraint on the part of the excursionists their hygienic value might be considerable. Many seem unable to conceive of enjoyment unassociated with the consumption of an extra amount of tobacco and strong drink. Perhaps both on their outward and return journeys they are cooped up in stuffy, stifling smoking carriages. There should be something at the end to make amends for all this discomfort, and to undo the mischief received. But instead of aerating his lungs, seeing what there is to be seen, and enjoying what there is to be enjoyed, the pleasure-seeker loafs about the eating-house or the tap-room, and at nightfall has

some difficulty in walking straight to the station. This is not an overdrawn picture of the habits of the “ tripper,” as anyone who has a practical acquaintance with watering-places and pleasure-resorts can testify. When will Englishmen learn to take their pleasure in a rational way without squandering their money to the detriment of both body and mind ? A large per centage of those who are constantly on the wing are the very persons who can least afford it. Their dissipation, their morbid craving for change bring poverty with its long train of evils. Despondent of being able to effect any improvement in their financial position they become reckless, go from bad to worse, and the issue is in many cases a mournful one. Again, it is a question of thrift—of plodding industry—of the subjection of passion, and fancy, and appetite, to the standard of reason and revelation. The exercise of these would enable them to battle successfully with the adverse circumstances of life.

Amongst the questions which deservedly receive attention, the food question is not the least in importance. The old inquiry, What shall we eat ? has acquired a new meaning. Now, this question is not put by the epicure alone whose appetite is cloyed with sumptuous fare, and who wants to have his palate tickled by some fresh dainty. It is put also by those who want to know how they can best build up their frame and preserve it in soundness and vigour. We are living in the scientific era. The knowledge of some of the elements of physiology has gradually filtered down. Men now know enough about their own constitution to be quite aware that much will depend upon the food they take, upon its quality and quantity, as to whether their mind shall be clear and vigorous and their body healthy. They are beginning to see a little way into the meaning of the paradox—

“ matter is mind.” Moreover, the question, What shall we eat ? has by the peculiarity of the times got complicated with economical humanitarian and other considerations. Men not only want to know what food will best answer the purpose for which wise men eat, but also how they can by the smallest outlay feed the flame of life. They are asking themselves whether the lower animals have not their rights, and if it be so certain that man’s sustentation necessitates their destruction. Lastly; the food question is rapidly trenching on the political domain, and men’s attention is being turned to the laws relating to the occupancy and transfer of land, and to the question of the best use to which that land can be put; whether to feed cattle, to grow cereals, or vegetables, or fruits. Assuredly, there are, even in this nineteenth century of ours, few questions of a more complex character, or that have a wider interest for men than this food question. In addressing ourselves to the consideration of this important question in some of its varied aspects, we may as well take the bull by the horns at once, and express it as our firm opinion that the rejection of flesh as food will be the first step in a wise regimen. This opinion is not shared by many in this country. Those who hold the opinion are regarded as mild enthusiasts, who have taken up with a ridiculous notion which is sure to work them practical mischief in the end. On account of this “ fad” of theirs they are looked upon as fair game for raillery. Yet though vegetarian principles may be practised by a very small minority, that fact surely does not establish the unsoundness of those principles. Truth does not stand or fall by a show of hands. Great causes are often first of all put into the keeping of a minority. Though ridicule may not be the test of truth, most movements in their earliest stages have to pass through that ordeal. Forty-five or fifty years ago total abstinence from intoxicating drinks was regarded pretty much as vegetarianism is now. To dare to champion such an unpopular notion in any ordinary

company was simply to turn upon you a stream of ridicule. “ There goes a teetotaller !” and the index finger was pointed, and the faces of the bystanders distorted into a broad grin. Presently it was admitted that while abstinence from intoxicants might do for men of leisure and those who followed a light or sedentary calling, it was out of the question for those who had to put forth much muscular exertion. But truth was mighty and went on prevailing. A revolution has been effected in men’s beliefs on this matter. Now alcohol is looked upon as in no way essential to a man in health, and the habitual use of it is admitted by an ever increasing number to be attended with danger. Even its medical use is now being assailed by the celebrated Dr. B. W. Richardson. Who knows but that we may live to see a revolution in the creed of men touching the necessity of flesh as an article of diet! If men’s ideas concerning drink have been revised, why may not their ideas concerning food ? Indeed there are many signs that the education of the public on this subject is going on apace.

In the beginning of the human race they seem to have been started as vegetarians. The 29th verse of the first chapter of Genesis seems conclusive on this point. The Almighty knew what would be best for His creatures. Man’s dietary at first embraced herbs, seeds or cereals, and fruits. Obviously these sufficed to meet man’s needs and cravings for a considerable period. We claim, then, that in his original and best estate man was a vegetarian, a fact which should not be without its influence on our thinking on this subject. Many eminent scientific men assure us that man’s physical organization corresponded with his early vegetarian practice. Ray, the celebrated botanist, tells us—“ Certainly man by nature was never made to be a carnivorous animal; nor is he armed at all for prey or rapine, with jagged and pointed teeth and crooked claws, sharpened to rend and tear ; but with gentle hands to gather fruits and vegetables, and with teeth to chew and eat them.” Professor

Lawrence, a high authority, observes—“The teeth of man have not the slightest resemblance to those of carnivorous animals, except that their enamel is confined to the external surface. He possesses, indeed, teeth called canine, but they do not exceed the level of others, and are obviously unsuited to the purposes which the accompanying teeth execute in carnivorous animals.” Lord Monbeddo says, “ Though I think that man has from nature the capacity of living either by prey or upon the fruits of the earth, it appears to me, that by nature, and in his original state he is a frugivorous animal, and that he only becomes an animal of prey by acquired habit.” Baron Cuvier, whose knowledge of comparative anatomy was profound, and whose opinion therefore should have great weight, writes as follows :—“ Fruits, roots, and the succulent parts of vegetables, appear to be the natural food of man; his hands afford him a facility in gathering them ; and the short and canine teeth, not passing beyond the common line of the others, and tubercular teeth would not permit either to feed on herbage or to devour flesh unless these aliments were previously prepared by the culinary process.” After such an expression of scientific opinion, we should hear no more of the fluent dogmatism of sciolists affirming that man’s teeth plainly show that he was designed to eat flesh. His teeth, as we have shown, furnish proof of no such design. It must of course be granted that he departed comparatively soon from the simple diet assigned him. His appetite underwent a change. He longed for flesh and was permitted to gratify his longing. But let it be understood that permission is quite distinct from approval. There were other things which men were permitted to do, which according to the expressed judgment of God, were evidence of deterioration of character. Divorce and the monarchal institution were both allowed and both disapproved. With the permission to eat flesh certain restrictions were linked which are apt to be overlooked by some who make a great deal of such permission;

blood and swine’s flesh, these were both disallowed. It Old Testament examples and rules have to guide our practice, let us deal fairly by them, and not pick and choose to suit our purpose.

There are those who think they see a close connection between the Divine permission to eat flesh, and the abridgement of human life which occurred simultaneously or soon afterwards. Whether these two things must be regarded as standing to each other in the relation of cause and effect, we shall not take upon us to affirm; but we do deem it probable that retributive consequences are involved in the consumption of flesh. In proportion as it is made the staple of diet will there be susceptibility to disease and liability to premature infirmity and death.

If we take the population of the earth we shall find that flesh consumers form by far the smallest portion of it. In confirmation of this we have only need to refer to the dietetic habits of the teeming millions of India and China. Even in Britain very much of the labour that is done is the work of them who seldom taste flesh-meat. Another fact of a like kind is that the inferior animals who do the work of the world— the elephant, the horse, the ox, the camel, the ass— are all vegetarians. Such facts naturally lend themselves to the inference that it is a sheer delusion to suppose that muscular power and activity cannot be kept up except at the expense of animal life. Indeed, we do not hesitate to go a step further, and to affirm that the more flesh a man consumes the less will he be disposed for work of any kind, and especially for that kind of work which requires much mental exertion. If what is wanted is that the body and mind should both be kept in that condition which will render them most capable of hard, steady, and continuous labour, then earth, with its rich variety of produce, will furnish all that is sought. But on the other hand, if all that men care for is to work fitfully, if they wish a spurt and spell of violent and taxing labour, to be followed by a period of reaction and sluggishness; if

they want their passions to be fed so as to be ready to flame out with the least provocation, then let them patronize the butcher’s shop, and become carnivorous like those animals which are the scourge and terror of man and beast.

But it is not merely the rejection of flesh which we inculcate. Our national dietary is in many respects capable of being altered for the better. In fact, to give up flesh and retain the pastry, the rich and greasy pie-crusts, the strong condiments, the bread made of fine white flour, would simply be to give up the best portion and retain the worst. The Reformer’s motto must be “ thorough.” Not only must certain articles of food be rejected but others must be introduced. Injunction goes hand in hand with prohibition. In making the desirable change which we advocate, it is well to know how to begin. Occasionally persons will say to the writer, “ Should I give up flesh ?” to whom we sometimes answer—“Yes, if you know how; if you know what to use as a substitute. If not, perhaps you had better not give it up lest you should soon break down in your course of reformation, and thus bring an evil report upon the good cause of vegetarianism.” Of course the human system requires a given amount of nourishment every day. The nourishment should contain all the different elements required for building up the frame, and the amount of it should be proportioned to the natural and healthy requirements of the individual, and to the waste which has been going on as the result of exertion. To commence the positive part of food reform—

that is, wheat just as it is ground. At the most remove from it only the hard outer coat, which is woody and indigestible, passing out of the bodyunchanged. Yet even this bran may be useful as a corrective to constipation, as it acts mechanically in stimulating the intestines.

There is another part of the wheat which unfortunate-y is frequently sacrificed in the process of dressing for domestic use. That is the layer of cells between the husk and the innermost starchy substance. This we are assured on high authority is the richest in “ nitrogenous matter, fats, and salts—the part which contains food for muscles, bones, and brains.”

A moment’s reflection will serve to show that in the olden time when wheat was ground between two stones, or pounded in a mortar, the flour would be different from the “ fine” and “ superfine” of this day. This finely-dressed stomach-clogging flour was at first regarded as the luxury and dainty of the well-to-do, now it finds its way into the homes of both rich and poor, and is the foe of both. As whiteness is the quality desired in bread, the tradesman will in some cases meet the wishes of his customers by means of adulteration, especially with alum. In this matter of bread, as in many other cases, senseless fashion has set up a completely false standard of excellence to the detriment of Her Majesty’s lieges. There are, however, signs that people are growing wiser ; and that wholesome brown bread will be more and more in demand. Doubtless in some small towns, he who would reform his diet may find some difficulty as yet in procuring either the whole meal or bread made from it; but with increased inquiry for the article this difficulty will disappear. Millers will not set themselves in opposition to the convictions and tastes of their customers. The demand for whole-meal will soon create a supply. In the meantime recourse might be had to a steel corn-mill. These are manufactured for domestic purposes by various firms, and cost from about twenty-one to twenty-five shillings each. Ten minutes’ grinding per day would keep an ordinary family supplied with flour. They would soon find it to “ pay” in every sense ; and ere long, the taste for it having been acquired, would prefer it before bread of any other kind. To one who wants to know how to begin his food reform, we would say bread of the kind we have

been speaking of will serve you as the strong and sure basis of vegetarian practice. For breakfast many articles of a farinaceous kind which are both palatable and nutritious may easily be had. For either children or adults (but particularly for the former) porridge with or without milk is a very wholesome diet. In our own case when at home we usually take porridge of one kind or another, followed by a small cup or two of tea with bread and butter. It may be made of wholemeal, of oatmeal, or hominy, or pea-meal. The last is a favourite with us, and we consider it a dish fit for a king. What are called the ABC Foods, or Dr. Nichols’ Food of Health, are excellent, used as indicated. They are rich in bone and muscle-forming elements. An adult habitually breakfasting on any of the foods we have named would find himself ready and strong for work. So well would his food stay with him that so far from experiencing a sensation of sinking and faintness about eleven o’clock, it would probably be noon before he was aware of it. Children and young people thus dieted would have a fair chance of growing up healthy and robust, and would in after life be comparatively independent both of the doctor and druggist. One or two testimonies to the value of whole-meal bread may be of advantage to the reader at this stage. “ If you set any value on health and have a mind to preserve nature,” said T. Tryon in his ‘ Way to Health, Long Life, and Happiness,’ written in the latter part of the fifteenth century, “ you must not separate the finest from the coarsest flour, because that which is fine is naturally of an obstructive and stopping quality ; but on the contrary the other which is coarse is of a cleansing and opening nature, therefore the bread is best which is made of both together. It is more wholesome, easier of digestion, and more strengthening than bread made of the finest flour.” The celebrated Magendi, one of the ablest of physiologists, has ascertained that finely dressed wheat flour will not preserve life in health and vigour, but that unbolted flour will. Indeed it seems that all foods

which are highly concentrated are objectionable on the ground of health. In ascertaining this fact many experiments have been made both upon human beings and the lower animals. The results of some of these experiments it might have interested the reader to have seen. This, however, the limited space at our disposal forbids.

During the wars between England and France towards the close of last century, there was a great scarcity of corn in this country, and but little could be. imported. We had a large army, and it became a question how it could be fed. William Pitt, who was the Prime Minister, wished the people to mix rice and potatoes with their flour in order that it might go the further. This was done, but still there was scarcity. An Act of Parliament was then passed which had to be in force two years, requiring the army to eat unbolted or undressed wheat for economical reasons. At first the soldiers strongly objected to the bread. Mr. S. Prior says, “ My father was a miller and baker, and contracted to supply the army. When a boy I used to take the bread. I can remember the angry looks and hard words; indeed, they used to throw the loaves after me. After awhile they took to it. The health of the soldiers improved surprisingly ; the hospitals were nearly emptied. The doctors admitted it was the brown bread which had wrought the change, and they strongly recommended the new bread. It grew popular in the country and was generally adopted. But when the scarcity passed away the populace returned to the use of fine bread. A few of the thoughtful and the scientific adhered to the brown bread.” This reference to the past shows that the use of unbolted flour is true thrift; whereas wastefulness in a threefold form is inseparable from the use of fine flour. First of all there is waste of material; the best part of the grain being handed over to the pigs. There is waste of money; an inferior substance being bought for a higher price, the finer and whiter ; and as the Scotch would say—the more “ fusionless” the

bread the more it costs. Then there is the waste or vitality and strength which such a diet implies. These surely are points worth considering by all, but more especially by the working-classes to whom health is money. The rich may afford to be in the doctor’s hands, but working-men, whose capital is their labour, cannot afford that luxury.

In prosecuting your plans of food-reform, learn judiciously to combine the use of

with the farinaceous. Plants of the leguminous order, /.<?., those whose seeds are found enclosed in a pod rank in value next to the cereals in the estimation of vegetarians. The best-known kinds of legumes or pulse are the common pea and the broad garden bean and kidney-bean. Another member of the same family has in comparatively recent times found its way into the kitchens and to the tables of the people of this country,—and conservative though we English are in culinary matters, the Haricot or French bean (for it is to it we allude) has by its own worth won its way to general acceptance and favour. It is too well known to need any description. You may see it exhibited in almost every grocer’s or Italian warehouseman’s window. The Haricot bean is grown in France and America. In the latter country it is allowed to run up the strong stalks of the Indian corn or maize. Is there any reason why this valuable plant should not be cultivated in our own country ?

Mention, too, must here be made of the Lentil, which thanks to Mr. W. Gibson Ward, may be said to have been rediscovered. During the hard winter of 1878-9 this earnest and philanthropic gentleman wrote a letter to the Times in which he pointed out the dietetic value of lentils as a cheap, wholesome, and nutritious food. These letters attracted much attention, and the points touched upon in them were much

canvassed. The outcome of all this writing and discussion was, that the lentil as an article of diet was forced into prominence. The word was in everybody’s mouth. Housewives all over the country questioned their grocers about lentils. At last Mark Lane itself felt the influence of this stirring of the public mind ; orders for Egyptian Lentils came pouring in. It is said that Mr. Ward was chained to his desk for eight days answering the hundreds of letters which his own had called forth. Even Punch had its mild joke on the rage for this new legume. Under the heading of “ Vegetarian Homoeopathy,” it intimated that all the ills to which flesh is heir could be cured by lent-ills. Of course the excitement about lentils could not keep at this height for long; but it has had and will have its results for good. As an article of diet it has been introduced into thousands of households to the advantage we venture to say of both the pockets and the health of the consumers. But if the food-value of the lentil is a discovery to us, it is no new thing in other parts of the world. As long ago as the days of the Hebrew patriarchs the lentil was known. The “ red pottage” which Jacob “ sod” and Esau longed for was nought but lentil soup. The hard-working Egyptian boatmen have long known its value and made it their staple article of food. Leguminous foods—the pea, the bean, the lentil—are all alike rich in nitrogenous or flesh-forming elements, and are specially suited to the needs of those who have much muscular work to do. When wisely combined with foods rich in carbonaceous elements—such as barley, rice, oatmeal, wheat-meal, etc.—the result is a dietary which leaves nothing to be desired so far as regards the purposes of life, since it provides the system with both flesh and force, food and fuel.

Prejudices die hard. The prejudice in favour of a liberal consumption of flesh-meat is one which takes a good deal of killing. The English working-man obstinately clings to the notion that he cannot keep up his muscular strength without his beef-steak or mutton

chop. He accepts the statement without reservation, and passes it on that the “Roast Beef of Old England” has had a good deal to do with making Englishmen what they have been in war, in colonization, in commerce ; whereas it would be just as true to say that the potato or oatmeal deserves the credit of having built up the stalwart frames, and supplied the stamina of our race. It is perfectly notorious that the Irish peasantry have formed a large proportion of our conquering armies, and the Irish peasant is no gorger of flesh. In colonization who excels the hardy Scotchman ? “ Newcastle grindstones and Scotchmen go

round the world together” says the Northern Proverb. So if some sing the praises of Roast Beef, we could make a good case out for the potato and the oatmeal. To leave these two out of the account would be as unfair as to speak of the rose and omit all mention of the shamrock and thistle, Yet despite these facts the old fallacy passes current, and men will not let belief in the all-sufficiency of a non-flesh diet— “ take hold of them.” Yet facts supplying such belief and which cannot be gain-said, abound. Amongst these facts must be included the tables which scientific men have drawn up showing the proportionate nutritive value of various articles of food. Such a table we supply; and the reader may rely upon the accuracy of its findings.

Articles of Diet. Matter.		Water.	Principle.	Principle.	Ashes.
Weight, 100 lbs.	Lb.	Lb.	Lb.	Lb.	Ashes.
Turnips......	11.0	... 89.O	... 1.0	... 9.0	... 1.0
Red Beet Root	II.o	... 89.0	... 1-5	... 8.5	... 1.0
Carrots......	13.0	... 87.0	... 2.0	... 10,0	... 1.0
Potatoes ...	28.0	... 72.O	... 2-0	... 25.0	... 1.0
Butcher’s Meat	36.6	... 63.4	... 21.5	... 14.3	... .8
Bread (stale)	76.0	... 24.O	... IO.7	... 64.3	... 1.0
Peas ......	84.0	... 16.O	... 29.O	... 51.5	• •• 3-5
Lentils......	84.0	... 16.O	... 33-o	... 41.0	... 3.0
Barley-Meal...	84-5	••• i5-5	... 14.0	... 68.5	... 2.0
Wheat Meal...	85-5	... 14.5	... 21.0	... 62.0	... 2.5
Beans ......	86.0	... 14.0	... 31.0	••• 51.5	• •• 3-5
Sago ......	88.0	... 12.0	... 3.4	... 84.0	... .6
Maize Meal ...	90.0	... 10.0	... 11.0	... 77.0	... 2.0
Oatmeal ...	91.0	... 9.0	... 12.0	... 77.0	... 2.0
Rice ......	92.4	... 7-0	... 8.4	... 82.0	... 2.0

The intelligent reader will not fail to examine the table here presented of the relative value of foods with attention, and especially will he be interested in ascertaining how flesh-meat bears comparison with other kinds of meat. The former has more than justice done it in the table. Every housewife knows to her cost that when she buys flesh she receives along with it a certain amount of bone, gristle, and other nonproductive parts. In cereals, pulse, vegetables, nuts, and fruits, you have much less waste, besides getting a great deal more out of that which is usable. If strong food is necessary for those who have to work hard with the body—as no doubt it is—then, by a reference to the table, evidence in plenty will present itself to confirm what we have asserted—that prepared pulse and cereals are such strong foods—strong because they impart strength. In fact so strong are they that prudence is necessary in partaking of them. Young children, invalids, and those who lead an indoor and sedentary life, should not indulge too freely in peas, beans, or lentils, else mischievous results may follow. If you give too many beans to a horse that has little to do he will be all the worse for it. Now although man may be something higher than a horse, yet he has a digestive apparatus like that quadruped, and in his management of his stomach he should be guided by similar principles to those which his own groom or stable-boy acts upon when feeding his beast. Men are evidently in error who suppose that their health will be in proportion to the amount of strong food they can take. Eating food and properly disposing of it by digestion and assimilation are very different things, as the prevalence of dyspepsia amongst us sufficiently indicates.

It is a common thing for men to speak lightly and even banteringly of vegetables as articles of diet. They talk as disparagingly of them as Mr. Jones, the butcher, in “ Paul Faber.” Their views may be couched in more polished phrase, but the views are the same. Said Mr. Jones, “ Them pease, an’ beans,

an’ cabbages, an’ porridges, an’ carrots, an’ turmits— why, sir, they ain’t nothink at all but water an’ wind.

I don’t say as they mayn’t keep a body alive for a year or two; but, bless you, there’s nothink in them; and the man will be a skelinton long before he’s dead an’ buried; an’ I shed jest like to know where’s the good o’ life on sich terms as them !” There may be some excuse for a butcher talking like this, for the simple reason that his judgments may be expected to be swayed by trade-bias. We are all more or less prone to think that “ there is nothing like leather.” The gradual diffusion of knowledge will teach flesh-eaters that they are indebted to the virtues of vegetables much more than they thought. It is through the excellent qualities of the various species of vegetables that are invariably served up with their beef, mutton, pork, etc., that flesh-eaters escape the evils attendant upon a too-exclusive flesh diet. The prevalence of leprosy in this and other lands in former ages, was no doubt greatly owing to the free use of salted flesh at certain seasons of the year, and the lack of vegetable foods. When the beef-eater puts his potatoes and fresh vegetables on to his plate he is practically applying the antidote to the bane.

Truth is often uttered in jest—sometimes unintentionally. We have met with those who in a vein of wit or supposed wit, and in the spirit of banter have said—-Oh, yes; I am a vegetarian. The Bible declares ‘ all flesh is grass,’ so in eating flesh I am eating a vegetable.” Just so. But these smart opponents of our system have not yet opened their eyes to see the chemical truth their random shot has hit. They have spoken words truer than their thought. Flesh is grass. If we are to accept the results of the investigations of chemists, flesh-eaters have no nutritive properties in their food but what are derived from the vegetable world. Baron Liebig’s statement on this point is often quoted. Those who are familiar with our literature will often have met with it; but as we write especially for the inquirer after dietetic truth,

we will give it a place here. Liebig says, “ Grain and other nutritious vegetables yield us not only in starch, sugar and gum, the carbon which protects our organs from the action of oxygen, and produces in the organism the heat which is essential to life, but also in the form of vegetable fibrine, albumen and caseine, our blood, from which the other parts of the body are developed.

“ These important products of vegetation are especially abundant in the seeds of the different kinds of grain, and of peas, beans, and lentils; in the roots and juices of what are commonly called vegetables. They exist, however, in all plants without exception, and in every part^_ of plants in larger or smaller quantity.

“ The chemical analysis of these three substances has led to the very interesting result that they contain the same organic elements, united in the same proportion by weight; and what is still more remarkable, that they are identical in composition with the chief constituents of blood, animal fibrine and albumen. They all three dissolve in concentrated neuriatic acid with the same deep purple colour, and even in their physical character, animal fibrine and albumen are in no respect different from vegetable fibrine and albumen.

“Vegetable fibrine and animal fibrine, vegetable albumen and,animal albumen hardly differ even in form; if these principles be wanting in the food, the nutrition of the animal is arrested ; and when they are present, the graminivorous animal obtains in its food the very same principles on the presence of which the nutrition of the carnivora entirely depends.” We give one more quotation, and it should be well pondered by those in search of a scientific basis for their practice in relation to food and health.

“ Vegetables produce in their organism the blood of all animals, for the carnivora in consuming the blood and flesh of the graminivora, consume, strictly speaking, only the vegetable principles which have served for the nutrition of the latter.”*

It will be seen from these scientific quotations that while the flesh-eater looks with contempt, amusement, or pity on the vegetarian’s dietary, he is after all essentially a vegetarian himself. The only difference being that he is one at second-hand, while the vegetarian is one at first-hand, receiving his food in its natural and unperverted form. This reminds us of a statement made concerning an American doctor. One day he was looking at his swine as they were feeding on Indian corn. He noticed that they looked well and were rapidly improving in size and appearance. The thought occurred to him if this article of diet will do so well for the swine, it would with due preparation do for human beings. He determined from that day that he would eat his products no longer through the medium of the swine, but have them firsthand. Henceforth he was a vegetarian.

The superiority of a vegetable diet over that of a mixed one may be summarised in four or five propositions. It is—

t. Conducive to health and long life. It does not follow that a vegetarian must necessarily be either healthy or a long liver. Much naturally depends upon the constitution and tendencies the man inherited from his progenitors ; much depends upon his former habits and his present surroundings. Yet our system tends in the direction of both health and longevity. It readily lends itself thereto. We are quite aware that if an abstainer from flesh is ill or dies, vegetarianism has to bear the stigma of being the cause. But this is sad logic. Post hoc ; ergo, propter hoc. It is the same fallacious principle which has been embodied in the proverb—“ Tenterden steeple the cause of Goodwin sands.” How would flesh-eaters like to have their own system of dietetics measured by this same rule ? For the majority, of English people at any rate, eat flesh, and disease is rife, and many who consume a considerable amount of flesh die while yet young. We have much disease and death in our

midst from over-feeding, some from under-feeding, and yet more from wrong-feeding.

As we walk the streets of our towns we see at a glance many persons who obviously are in a poor state of health. They are the victims of dietetic errors. They eat too much, and a great deal of what they do eat is not of the right kind. Their system is burdened with carbon, and both the stomach and liver have much more work appointed them than they can well perform. There is no regular and harmonious working of the varied members of the body. The result is general derangement, including poor blood, biliousness, dyspepsia, etc. Life soon loses its sunshine and sweetness. By such errors as these death is hastened.

We have already admitted in reference to this food-question the possibility of the other extreme, namely, not taking enough food to duly nourish the body and feed the flame of vitality. This possibility conceded, we must express our conviction that where one does not get enough food, ten eat more than is good for them. If the strange experiment which Dr. Tanner lately made upon himself in his enforced fast of forty days has any value, it probably lies in its tending to show that Nature does not want much for her purpose: little will suffice for her. The quantity of food to be taken may be an important matter, the quality of it is still more so. There should be in the food consumed a blending of the nitrogenous and carbonaceous elements. No person can continue long in a healthy condition on a meagre, defective diet. None are more fully alive to this fact than vegetarians. Their selection of foods being wisely made, they get the most strength by means of the least outlay; while others using no knowledge or judgment in the choice of the viands they consume, but being simply guided by taste, caprice, or custom, spend much and yet practically get little for their money.

The history of mankind, and the unbiassed testimony of travellers, would confirm our position that the practice of vegetarianism is conducive to health and

longevity. It is pretty evident that Cyrus, the Persian conqueror, and his victorious soldiers, subsisted on water and non-animal food. So do the Persian armies of the present day, and they are said to be strong and of handsome form and countenance. It is said, in the most heroic days of the Greeks their armies were fed on the plain and simple produce of the earth. The yeomanry of Westmoreland, and Cumberland too, and the farm labourers, as a rule, live without animal food. Even those who are considered to be in a good temporal position seldom see it on their tables. The oatmeal-eating of the Scotch (before referred to) is proverbial. Are they puny, or remarkable for a defective nervous and muscular organization ? On the contrary, in size of bone, in muscle and sinew, in nerve and general vitality, they will compare favourably with any other race. “ The celebrated Lord Heathfield, who defended the fortress of Gibraltar with consummate skill and persevering fortitude, was well known for his hardy habits of military discipline. He neither ate animal food nor drank wine, his constant diet being bread and vegetables, and his drink water; and he never slept more than four hours in the twenty-four.”

Dr. Lyford, of Brighton, in a letter to a friend written some years ago, bears the following testimony. “ I have now been an entire and complete vegetarian and total abstainer for about thirty years, during the whole of which period I have enjoyed the benefit of uninterrupted good health, which has sustained me without a day’s cessation in the performance of the duties and toils of a very extended public and private practice ; and I am enabled unhesitatingly to corroborate and testify to the experience of others who have confined themselves exclusively to a vegetable diet, the results of which have been the establishment of uniformity of temper even under the most adverse circumstances, and a mental tranquility, which I sincerely hope may fall to the lot of all not so blessed when overtaken by the sorrows and trials of life;

physical capabilities under active and protracted exertions ; speedy restoration of muscular power and nervous energy exhausted by disturbed rest and want of sleep; a harmless endurance alike of summer’s heat or winter’s cold, and of atmospheric vicissitudes of whatever description ; a total absence of the feeling of thirst under all circumstances, and a direct hatred to the employment of stimulants of every description; all these effects being most favourable to the establishment of the vital conditions so essential to health and longevity.”

Another medical gentleman, Mr. Jackson, says, “ My health has been tried in many ways and in various climates ; and by the aids of temperance and hard work I have worn out two armies in two wars, and probably could wear out another before the period of old age arrives. I eat no animal food, and drink no wine or malt liquors or spirits of any kind. I wear no flannels, and regard neither wind nor rain, heat nor cold, when business is in the way.”

Testimonies of a like kind and of equal strength might be multiplied almost without limit. Now men may affect to laugh at such testimonies, or pooh pooh them ; but in the absence of experiment we may assume that they know little of the matter. It has been remarked with much force that he who only knows his own side knows nothing comparatively.

As yet, there are no carefully compiled statistical tables of the average length of a vegetarian’s life to appeal to. Before long, no doubt, an attempt will be made to supply this want. We have such tables for all sorts of classes and callings. The use or non-use of flesh as an article of food certainly creates a broad distinction between men, and it would be interesting to ascertain if this distinction extends so deeply and so far as to affect the average duration of the lives of the vegetarian and non-vegetarian respectively. But in the meantime, while such reliable data are being obtained, all we can do is to judge from isolated cases; and certainly going on this method the advantage as

far as regards long life seems to be with the vegetalian. We might give the names and ages of a few persons as confirmatory of our position ; but this would be to carry us too far from the main design of our little work.

2. A vegetarian diet is promotive of mental activity. There is a presumption in favour of this proposition, as we think those of our readers who look at it impartially cannot fail to see. Every hard student is soon taught by experience that a rich and heavy dietary is unfavourable to mental activity. After a “ good dinner,” so called, he feels in a lethargic condition. He feels more inclined for the sofa than the study-chair; more disposed for a nap than for any reading or composition that requires any considerable mental effort. He does not feel equal to anything higher in the way of intellectual effort than the listless skimming of a novel or newspaper. Anything beyond this sadly and consciously interferes with his digestion. But a vegetarian does not find himself after his light and natural repast obliged to intermit his morning’s tasks. He has the morning feeling all the afternoon.

Of course it is allowed that a variety of circumstances may tend to modify the degree of mental activity that a person can put forth. The character of a day, whether it be damp and dull, or clear and dry, will not be without its influence on the mental faculties. The absence of worry, of nervous apprehension and fidgetiness is essential to concentration of mind, and to its doing its best work. Yet with all this, and even more than this conceded, the potent influence of diet upon the mental life is undoubted. It is said Chatterton the poet was a vegetarian when a boy. Some one asked him why he was so. The answer was to the effect that he had a great work to do in this world, and he had no right to make himself stupider than God made him. Theophrastus, who studied under Plato, and who died two hundred and eighty eight years before the birth of Christ at the age

of one hundred and seven, says, “ Eating much and feeding upon flesh makes the mind dull, and drives it to the very extremes of madness.”

Sir John Sinclair, an admitted authority on this subject, remarks in his Code of Health, “ Vegetable food has a happy influence on the powers of the mind, and tends to promote delicacy of feeling and liveliness of imagination, and an acuteness of judgment seldom enjoyed by those who make a free use of animal food.” In proof of this Sir John tells us that he had more than once selected for his servants boys from the tenants of his farms, who were remarkable for the smartness of their intelligence. In their daily diet at home there was little or no animal food. He found, however, that when they became pampered with richer food and an animal diet, that they became dull and stupid. He therefore concludes that respecting mental character much more depends upon food than upon climate.

The influence of food upon the mental character is a most interesting subject of inquiry. But interesting though it be, we must not be beguiled into pursuing it any further, though many more illustrations or examples might be adduced to the advantage of the vegetarian position. What has been said may prove suggestive, and prompt the reader to more extended research.

3. A vegetarian diet is favourable to a full development of the moral powers. The liberal use of flesh as food unduly stimulates the animal nature. The propensities of a man’s lower nature need no stimulating. They need curbing and repressing. “ 111 weeds grow apace ;” they want no guano or hot-house forcing. The regular and free use of animal food is much like adding compost to the roots of what will grow fast and rank enough without any such artificial fostering. Such a dietary as we have seen is favourable to drinking—it throws more work on the will and makes the work of self-control more difficult. A man who acknowledges that his infirmity is shortness of temper is

only going the way to render that temper more choleric by taking “ meat” and the usual hot condi ments served along with it thrice a day.

The difference in the temper of an ordinary dog when fed on a vegetable diet, and the same beast when fed with flesh, is remarkable. The savageness of the carnivorous and the gentleness of the herbivorous dog may teach the dog’s master something. One day the writer when travelling in a country celebrated for its consumption of swine’s flesh, met a stranger who was evidently an oddity. Without any introduction he put the question : “ Sir ! do you know why the people are so bad tempered in this country ?” We answered we thought we did. But he was plainly more anxious to give us his opinion than to ascertain ours. “ Why,” said he, “ it’s because they eat too much bacon.” Whether the man spoke on the strength of any acquired physiological knowledge or no we know not; but he had certainly got an inkling of the truth that animal food tends to make the animal nature dominate over the moral. Ample illustrations of this principle are to be found in the wide realm of animated nature. Flesh-eating animals are fierce and cruel; they live to destroy ; they are the scourges of creatures less strong or more gentle than themselves. Animals which feed on vegetables are at least comparatively gentle and docile. They do the work of man, and serve very important purposes in the economy of civilized life.

“ Cattle fed on fish,” says Bishop Heber, “ fatten rapidly ; but it totally changes their natures and makes then unmanageably fierce.”

Dr. Arbuthnot declares, “ I know more than one instance of irascible passions being much subdued by a vegetable diet.”

Dr. Lamb, it is said, “ distinctly believed that three years of vegetable diet improved the moral qualities of a boy ten years old, who was placed under his care.”

The effect of regimen on morals is a topic which has a very close and practical bearing on the question of the nurture and training of the young. Their future

will be very much dependent on the character of their diet. Parents should see to it that food is provided excellent in quality and sufficient in quantity—food that is fitted for the making of pure blood, hard, firm flesh, sound and healthy nerve and brain tissue, and all else that enters into our ideal of physical perfection. Such a body will, other things being equal, become the appropriate basis of morality and religion. A weak and ill-conditioned body falls an easier prey to the solicitations of intemperance and sensuality. He whose system is of low average vitality will not unnaturally crave for stimulants to give him that degree of self-command and exhilaration of which he so painfully feels the lack. Health, wholeness of body, is favourable to equability of temper, and the harmonious adjustment and working of the moral powers. “ Plain living and high thinking” go well together. No wonder that some of our foremost public men descry rocks ahead in the luxury and excess so prevalent in our time, and sing the praises of Temperance. Nor are their warnings altogether unheeded; for it is a fact that many of the families of the highest type in our country avoid these indicated perils. Their children are allowed to indulge in flesh-meat very sparingly, and, doubtless, such restriction is attended with many advantages. The medical officers of our land have often raised their voice against the excessive mortality amongst the children of the poorer classes, which with one consent they attribute to improper feeding. But even in cases where, owing to superior constitutional vigour, the faulty system of nurture has not resulted in premature death, it is to be feared it will have left its abiding traces for evil in the constitution and character of them who survive. But we must not pursue this topic further, congenial though it be, and capable of being illustrated to any extent.

4. A vegetarian diet is economical. Some may conceive this to be an argument of a low and sordid nature. We grant that in the scale of argumentative worth it may hold a lower place by right than other

arguments which have been adduced. Yet, for all that, it is no trivial argument in favour of a vegetarian diet over its opposite, that it is relatively cheaper, more especially as times have been and now are. Had every family “enough and to spare” of money, it might be a matter of greater indifference to them and to society that the consumption of the flesh of animals as food entails so much more expense than the habitual use of other meat stuffs. But now when the question, “ How can I get the most purchasing power out of the little I have passing through my hands ?” has become a question of first importance—the matter wears a different aspect. It is of importance not only to the poor man who, thinking of his wife and children, asks with fervency, “ Give us this day our daily bread,” but to overseers of the poor, and others whose business and office it is to relieve the indigent by means of money wrung from the much-suffering taxpayer. To publicists of all kinds and ranks this question of economy commends itself: for are they not anxious that the wage-earning classes who form the broad base of the pyramid should be w^rell-nourished and contented ? A hungry, half-starving proletariat is always an element of danger in the commonwealth, as the great French revolution and recent events in Ireland have shown. Under such circumstances the lowermost couche sociale is apt to thrust itself into unwelcome prominence by a sort of volcanic upheaval. Political economists may well ask themselves, “ How can we adjust supply and demand in relation to the food of the people so as to leave no justifiable ground for bread-riots and revolutionary outbursts?” The statesman who is called in God’s providence to guide the destinies of a nation must in some practical shape ask the question, “ What legislative measures will best secure a sufficiency of food for the people ?” As a nation we are spending far too much on what should be classed as luxuries. Our bill for imports is said to be very greatly in excess of our bill for exports—to the extent, some say, of thirty or forty millions per

annum. Necessaries, if possible, we must have ; and if we do not produce them in sufficient quantities at home, it is a great privilege to find some other nations that have a superabundance of them who will willingly sell to us. The harvest of 1879 was, so far as this country was concerned, a very poor one. The bad harvests of the two previous years now reached their climax. We want some twenty-four or twenty-five million quarters of wheat every year. Our yield in 1879 was only six million quarters, so that we were compelled to import from somewhere eighteen million quarters. Mr. Caird, who is an authority on these questions, says, the loss to the wheat growers in England during the past two or three years is not less than ^30,000,000. It must be admitted that much of 1879’s deficiency was owing to unpropitious weather ; but it is also an acknowledged fact that our land is not so fully devoted to corn growing as it once was. The returns for 1879 °f land under crops, fallows, and grass were 31,976,000 acres. This estimate does not include heaths, mountain pastures, and plantations. Within the arable area of Great Britain our corn crops, it is said, have decreased nearly a million acres. Barley growing has largely taken the place of wheat. The one cereal has greatly superseded the other. This fact gives cause for regret when we remember for what purpose the barley has been cultivated. Instead of finding its way into the larders of the people as the wheat would have done, it has become the prey of the maltster. Instead of the staff of life, we have the ^<£ national beverage” largely answerable for our national curse. Moreover, an increasing proportion of our broad acres is laid down for grass growing, and this means our increasing dependence upon foreign countries for the means of subsistence. It also means that an ever-enlarging portion of the soil of this country is directly devoted to the nourishment of animals rather than of human beings. Grass-growing is for flesh-growing. Now all meat-growing is costly; far more so than is evident to those who only look on

the surface of things. Before an animal is ready for the shambles, it will have eaten its own weight in food some hundreds of times over; and much of the solid matter which that animal has used for its own nourishment is more valuable as a nutritive agent, pound for pound, than the flesh of the animal will be when ready for the table. The writer, who has lived in the provinces from boyhood, knows the false estimate which is put upon flesh, especially upon swine’s flesh. Many working men fortunate enough to possess gardens have the idea that if they can only manage to buy a pig and fatten it, they will find it a valuable adjunct to the year’s income. There is, first of all, the sum expended in the purchase of the animal. Then it consumes nearly all the produce of a moderate-sized garden, and the family is still further inconvenienced, perhaps straitened, through having to buy, time after time, barley meal or some other food with which to fatten their pig. Now the garden, if it had been wisely utilized in growing leguminous foods and vegetables, would have gone no inconsiderable way towards maintaining the family instead of the family’s pig. The animal has eaten up nearly everything, and the workman has only one thing from it, namely, bacon. Apropos of this subject, a writer observes—“ The human body has been appropriately termed ‘ the house I live in but what architect on being requested to draw up a plan for building a substantial dwelling-house, would first prepare to build a number of inferior houses at considerable cost with new material, and when completed or when they were about to fall into decay, to pull them down and build the substantial dwelling-house with the second-hand material ? Would not such a proposition be met with ridicule, and regarded as a proof of insanity? Yet, this is just what many people of the present age are doing; they are using the new material—the flesh-forming substances of nature—to build the bodies of the lower animals ; and when they have completed their work, and even gone so far as to engender disease by over-feeding,

they take away all the living principle that remains, and use the dead body—the second-hand material—to build up their own superstructure.” We venture to believe that after an unprejudiced examination of this topic that it must be conceded that flesh-food is a costly article, even wasteful, while the non-use of it with wise habits, is promotive of both domestic and political economy. With so much of the earth’s surface devoted to the growing of what at best are luxuries, is it any marvel that millions of people have not a foot of productive land to call their own ? or that extreme poverty often prevails, and that great numbers are brought into very close proximity with famine and death ? Will it not be a reproach to our character as Englishmen, nay, as Christians, if we do not our best to bring about a reform ? A vegetarian of some celebrity remarked, “ My wealth consists not so much in the abundance of my possessions, as in the fewness of my wants.” What is true of individuals is true also of nations. He who can diminish the wants of a nation will thereby practically increase its wealth. The old adage involves this principle—A penny saved is a penny gained.”

In judging of the comparative economy of a vegetarian diet, the ground of comparison must be in its cost and results as compared with a flesh diet. Certain data are necessary for us to proceed upon. These we have ready to our hand in the shape of certain reports on prison diet which the Government has ordered to be printed.

“The estimated cost, at present prices of various articles of food required for raising the body of a person weighing io stones or 140 lbs. to a height of 720,000 feet.”

This means that one pennyworth of split peas is equal to nine pennyworth of beef, or in other words,

the nourishment obtained for ninepence from beef, can readily be had for one penny in peas. Who is wise ? The one who lays out his hard-earned money in beef or peas ?*

With roast beef people generally eat white bread. Respecting the latter innutritious, inferior, and expensive food, the Government Report speaks as follows. “ In no way could the dyspeptic affluent set their neighbours a better dietetic example, than by adopting, were it at some little pains, a bread which might sometimes cure their ailments by its mechanical quality, as well as prevent disease and deformity among the poorer classes, by its nutritive value.” “ If,” said a physician of eminence, “ the people of Britain insisted upon becoming teetotalers and went on to add vegetarianism to their teetotalism, then he” (the physician) “must bid farewell to many comforts and luxuries he now enjoys, for disease would be greatly diminished, life would be prolonged, and it would take ten doctors to make one substantial medico with a spare sovereign in his pocket, and a respectable account at a bank.” Besides, if we become wise in our eating, what is to become of the vast swarm of druggists and pill-vendors who now abound and fatten on our credulity in respect to beef and white bread, f

As a means of health and as promotive of family thrift and true management, we should rejoice if each family in our country could have a moderate-sized garden, or what would be better still, a cottage-farm from six acres and upwards. And why not? Farming is said to be unprofitable in these days of open markets and foreign competition. It may be so to a certain extent. But what obtains even in these days when we are told agriculture is in such a bad state. ? Men with large farms are still clutching at every additional acre that comes within reach of their wealth or influence. Landed proprietors are still guilty of the perilous and infatuated conduct of breaking up small farms as the old tenants die off, and adding

*See Diagram issued by the Food Reform Society, Franklin Hall, Castle St. East, London, W.C. t Ibid.

them to their already overgrown estates. This tendency we deem fraught with peril to the nation.

To say all that might be said about this “ rock ahead’* lies, however, outside our present purpose. We are not without hope that the legislation looming in the distance respecting land and agriculture, will do something in holding the tendency referred to in check.

Besides smaller farms, if we are to have political and domestic economy, a larger proportion of the soil must be emancipated from mere pasture, and must be devoted to the cultivation of fruits and vegetables of various kinds. The advantages of such a change would be many and great. Our hedgerows instead of being mainly formed of the unproductive thorn might be dotted with fruit trees. But would not the small boys steal the apples, cherries, or plums ? They might while fruit trees remained an exceptional feature in the rural landscape. But let the small fruit-farms cultivated by peasant proprietors become the rule and not the exception, and the boys’ proverbial pilfering propensities would diminish. In some districts of France they have no hedges between the several allotments—much fruit and no pilfering. Mr. Barham Zincke, in describing what he saw among the peasant-proprietary of the district of Limagne, in France, says—“ The Limagne, like other arable districts of France, is without any kind of hedge, either between the properties or along the road side. Our path was at times through orchards, and I observed the apples hanging over the path and lying on the ground by the pathway; and I noticed that there were as many apples under the tree, by the path side as under those at a distance. No one, where almost

everybody has property, is dishonest in such matters as this. Property has engendered an instinct of honesty. It has taught men to do to others as they would be done by. Clermont has a population of 50,000 ; but all the vineyards around it, except where they form part of the ground round a dwelling-house, are quite open and unprotected. So are the peach trees, laden with fruit, and the pear and apple orchards. This implies a kind of morality not quite identical with that of the towns whether great or small, and even of the rural villages, on our side of the silver streak.”* The cultivation of fruit in this manner would pay the cultivators in every sense. We have met with an instance in which the plums produced by the trees growing in the hedges round a field paid the rent of the field. The corners of fields and mountain sides, often regarded as necessarily unproductive, might be utilized for fruit culture. Mr. Gladstone, whose extraordinary and versatile genius interests itself in almost every subject, and which illuminates every subject on which it is directed, has recently uttered a few wise words on this subject. He remarks —“ Nor can I abandon the hope of an era when we shall see a great extension of fruit, vegetable, and flower culture as part of our agricultural system, with an increased demand for agricultural labour.” These we affirm are wise words. They touch the very core of one of our crying national weaknesses, and indicate the remedy. The adoption of the vegetarian practice would conduce to the love and pursuit of horticulture in its various branches. There is a natural harmony between the two. “ Since I have been a vegetarian,” said a commercial gentleman, “ I have obtained a garden and intend to cultivate my own vegetables; and you cannot think how much I enjoy the exercise it affords.” His reformed dietary practice had opened out to him a new source of enjoyment and advantage, which before had been little thought of. Yes, in proportion as men live according to Nature will they find

delight in Nature’s works. Our artificial modes of living dull our senses—make us lethargic,—blunt the finer faculties of the mind.

The Vegetarian Society is pursuing the right end by seeking to employ right means. It is wisely calling the attention of its members and friends to the subject of fruit and vegetable culture. Social economists are working in the same direction. Though not fully with us, they are not against us. As the result of this stirring of public attention we expect to see ere long a marked improvement in the way indicated. Many persons will find difficulties in the path to the proposed reform, but growing desire and more determined effort will make these difficulties gradually disappear. Then better times will have come for the land we love.

A little experience is better than much theory. In the progress‘of scientific discovery, observation, comparison, hypothesis, may have played their part, but the final crucial test has always been supplied by experiment. If the result of the test has been unfavourable, the hypothesis, however complete it may have seemed to be, has had to be abandoned and another framed which could stand the final test. So has it been in the propagation of truth of other kinds. No amount of theorizing, apart from the answering confirmatory evidence supplied by the experience of men, would have sufficed to gain age by age adherents to the cause. To instance but one great movement— the Temperance cause has gained much by a clear intelligible testimony to the pracdcability and the manifold advantages of abstinence from intoxicating drinks. The theorizer may have multiplied words and

arguments to show that abstinence was an impossibility and an absurdity. But the teetotaler has rejoined, “ Here I stand simply on the ground of experience, and I affirm that what you declare to be impossible is in very truth so. I am not less healthy than you. I am as capable of endurance, as well qualified for labour as you, and I am so without the aid of that alcohol which you pronounce to be a necessity of life.”

In the personal experience of vegetarians, we have to our thinking the strongest, surest weapon in our controversial armoury. To none other would we be disposed to look with more confidence in carrying on our aggressive work. The vegetarian is not a dietetic adventurer. He is not a man under the influence of a craze. He speaks what he knows. He has looked at and tested both sides of the question, and with confidence, yea, with enthusiasm, he makes known to others the result of his experience. His enthusiasm is presumably inspired by the advantages he has derived from the course adopted. But let us proceed to give one or two testimonies to the benefits accruing from a non-flesh diet. We may, perhaps, as well start with our own experience. For many years the writer took flesh regularly as food ; twice and very often thrice a-day, and not unfrequently articles of pastry as well. The result was biliousness, dyspepsia, and constipation, with their long train of evils and sufferings, including irritability, depression, and indisposition for close mental application of any kind. Five years ago we began to alter our system of diet. We first gave up eating swine’s flesh and pastry as far as practicable, and took flesh of every kind more sparingly. Four years ago we ceased using flesh entirely, and have persevered in its disuse. Our motto in this matter has been “thorough.” We have not during this period eaten a morsel of animal food or taken a drop of gravy. What are the results in our case ? Very satisfactory. We have had uninterrupted health since we began our dietetic reform ; never have had the

headache, scarcely known what it is to feel pain. We have not swallowed a pill or taken a dose of medicine. We have not had to miss a day’s work, or at mealtimes felt indisposed for food. _ There has been a marked increase in the quantity and volume of our life as well as in its quality. We have noticed a stronger inclination for exertion, both bodily and mental, with a corresponding power of endurance. Life has in it more of hope and of brightness. The senses—taste, smell, hearing, but especially sight,—all appear more acute. Indeed some of our friends remark that of late we seem to have been growing younger rather than older. Though in our sixty-fourth year we enjoy food and sleep as well as we did thirty years ago. It is needless to enlarge further on our own experience.

We shall next venture to give in an abridged form the testimony of one or two persons who have adopted the reformed diet.

ness, residing in a market-town in the East Riding of Yorkshire. The town is not so large but that any one possessing a strongly-marked individuality is well

to be a man of strong convictions—a diligent inquirer after varied knowledge—a capital talker, and with strong social tendencies. For a long time he had been afflicted with dyspepsia, and all that dyspepsia brings in its train. He suffered considerably from a gnawing irritating pain at the pit of the stomach, and from depression of spirits. Noticing what he believed to be the unmistakeable signs of improvement in a neighbour who had adopted the Reformed Diet, he resolved to abstain from the use of flesh for one month as a trial, and at the same time to give up the taking of tea. When the course of a vessel sailing under a spanking breeze is suddenly altered, there is often much creaking and straining of timbers and flapping of sails until it fairly gets on its new tack. So it is with the human body when put under an entirely new regimen, as Mr. —-found to his cost. Until

Nature adapted herself to the changed conditions, he suffered much from heaviness and uneasiness of the system. We have heard him graphically describe the horrors of his novitiate : the sensations he had—the feeling that he had taken upon him a rash vow, more especially borne in upon him as he caught the whiff of savoury food when hurrying past the cook-shop or hotel on his way to business. At this time he declared he would willingly have paid down ^5 if the past could have been undone, or he could honourably have been released from his vow. He was told that perhaps he was making his task all the harder by discontinuing the use of tea, and that abstinence from that beverage was not essential to vegetarianism. To the use of tea he returned, and the month got over. The first fortnight of the month passed, he found his difficulties gradually diminish, so much so, that at the end of the month he seemed a changed man. His sensations were so different, and his enjoyment so much greater, that now he averred he would not return to flesh-eating

he made this experiment. Most of the household, if not the whole, came over to the Reformed Diet. Mrs.

husband was better in every way for his abstinence from animal food, gave her mind to the study of the new diet, and found a pleasure in catering in the best possible way for the wants of the family. Here, parenthetically, it may be remarked, that whether the vegetarian practice is to extend in this country or no, will depend much on the housewives. It will want a strong resolution on the part of the new convert to remain true to his convictions if the wife, through prejudice or indifference, puts before him only meagre

sensible woman : she aided and abetted her husband. The hams that once “ adorned” the kitchen, and that in the East Riding are regarded as the prettiest “ picters” that can be hung on any man’s balk or wall, were sent packing. Mr.--especially has become

a capital advertisement of the advantages of our system. His mental powers are quicker and brighter than ever; he is conscious of greater bodily vigour and of quickened interest in all the affairs of life. These advantages he has reaped from his dietetic change he is not slow to recount to inquirers.

Our second testimony is supplied by the experience of a young dissenting minister, aged about 29, whom we will call Mr. L. He had suffered much from indigestion. So weak were his digestive organs that he found beef difficult to appropriate. Bacon made him ill, and sometimes his stomach refused to retain it. Connected with these stomachic derangements, was an extreme liability to catch cold ; so that with one thing or another Mr. L. was often ailing. Like many more, his attention was turned to vegetarianism, from the hope that it might do something for his health, and relieve him of his distressing symptoms. And here let it be observed, that it is but natural that our ranks should be recruited by the weakly and the dyspeptic : “ They that are whole need not a physician, but they that are sick.” The constitutionally vigorous—the men who seem to have a digestive apparatus of cast-iron—may be content to go on in their old way, eating their beef and mutton, and flouting at the slender, pale-faced consumers of farinacea. But the question is, What has vegetarianism done for these same slender, pale-faced men ? What were they before they adopted the system, and what are they now? What might not these big brawny flesh-eaters have been as vegetarians ? They may be strong and vigorous despite and not as the result of their diet. But to return to Mr. L. He gave the system a trial, and very speedily felt the advantage. The unpleasant symptoms we have mentioned were greatly mitigated if not entirely removed. The winter that followed his dietetic change was one of hard work to him—for Methodist preachers in wide country stations have to work hard in various ways. Their locomotive powers, to say nothing of their vocal and mental, are often severely taxed. But Mr. L.

confessed that he found a power for work and endurance that he was before a stranger to. In the summer he has repeatedly conducted services ten or eleven miles from home, services beginning not sooner than seven o’clock, and after they were over he has walked home. We grant that this is more than men should be called upon to do : for night-walks of such length, just at the time when the delicate organs of the voice after being exercised are peculiarly sensitive to atmospheric changes and cold, are very trying and exhausting. Mr. L. admits that he was sometimes weary after a hard day’s work, but. that he experienced a power of recuperation before unknown. His experience in this respect is not peculiar, for most vegetarians can confirm it. Nature not having cast upon her the herculean task of disposing of a large quantity of heavy and fatty foods, finds that a little food and sleep quickly recruit her and fit her to resume with cheerfulness the varied duties of life. Mr. L. has passed a second winter, doing heavy toil, and finding it to press comparatively lightly upon him ; so little, indeed, as to excite the surprise of his friends.

Let us add to these testimonies the dietetic experiences of a Scotchman, which we will give in his own words. “I am now 25 years of age. Till my 21st year I ate very little flesh and had little desire for it. I was brought up chiefly on oatmeal, milk, and vegetables. I have lived for months on oatmeal and milk alone, and worked a man’s work as a carpenter when only 14 years of age. In my 21st year I came to England, and lived on the roast beef, pies, etc., of an English table. I very soon found my health decline. I began to feel dull and stupid. My memory failed ; a severe headache set in. Indigestion was my constant companion. In a few months I was in all the horrors of dyspepsia. I suffered less or more for eleven months. I was advised to regulate my diet by eating little flesh and using light food, and to take some herbal medicines. I followed the advice so far as to give up flesh entirely, and in one week I became

quite a different man. My spirits rebounded as if relieved of a grievous burden, and I felt as if I could leap over the house-tops and shake hands with everyone 1 met. I abstained from flesh for six weeks, but being induced by my hostess to partake of flesh now that I had “ got well,” I gradually resumed my flesh-eating habits ; and at the expiration of six or eight weeks my former afflictions returned to such an extent, that being now convinced that flesh-eating was the cause I determined not to eat flesh at home for twelve months. I kept my resolution, and was rewarded by a return of health. At the end of that period I began again to partake of flesh occasionally—perhaps once a week —and one week I had it every day; but I got so disgusted with it, that from that time I seldom tasted it. During all this time I was no friend to vegetarianism, and should as soon have thought of turning Mormon-ist as a vegetarian; but I am now a vegetarian, and a staunch one too, and have learned this lesson, viz. : never to laugh at a principle before I knoiv the name of that principle. Thanks to temperance ! Thanks to vegetarianism ! I am now in excellent health, and I think better than ever I was in my life. I am nearly twenty pounds heavier, and I suppose, one hundred pounds stronger than when a flesh-eater, and am generally admitted to be a good sample of a vegetarian, standing five feet seven inches in height, and weighing, as I do, upwards of one hundred and sixty-six pounds.” The preceding testimony has been before the public for some time, but is not the less valuable on that account. Very noticeable is the repeated struggles which the young Scotchman made towards the higher plane of life,—the sure and certain reward of such struggles when victorious, and the as certain ill effects of his several relapses into the old mode of life. Surely these physical symptoms were in his case not the result of accident, but the direct consequences of dissimilar dietetic modes of living. The buoyancy he felt when following the more temperate regimen is described by him in strong and even enthusiastic

language, but it is of a piece with the experience of others who have tried vegetarianism—with the experience of Mr. L., for instance, already given. This buoyancy may, too, be accounted for naturally. Heavy animal food clogs the wheels of life. Relieve the system of the drudgery and toil of disposing of a mass of animal food, and the spirits, light as a bird, will mount upward like a balloon that has been fettered to the earth, when its strings are cut.

Not only may young children be safely trained in vegetarian principles, but even persons who have grown old, and been meat-eaters all their lives, may give up their meat-eating with advantage. The results of vegetarian practice on children are remarkable. We know one family of eight children, all of whom enjoy the average of health and strength, but the healthiest of the number is just the one who alone is a vegetarian. That child had not a very promising beginning. When an infant she was afflicted with a stomachic derangement, and “ suffered many things of many physicians.” For upwards of three years she has not tasted meat, nor can she be induced to do so. Her aversion to it, raw or cooked, is extreme. She is taller by an inch than her flesh-eating sister who is fifteen months older. Her skin is beautifully clean and transparent; her spirits light, and temper equable. She is up and astir in the morning while others seem glued to their beds. Should she" by any chance catch cold or be indisposed, she of her own will partakes of less food and sleeps more than usual, and Nature of her own accord soon rights herself. The child’s appearance and experience are a hard nut for the opponents of vegetarianism to crack. Many a time and oft have they been somewhat disconcerted, and their fluent argumentation stopped by the production of the child and a simple recital of facts. Knowing young Winifred as we do, we have sometimes thought we would like to see life-long vegetarians themselves the children of the same. Let the principle of heredity have play for two or three generations, and we venture

Vegetarian principles have stood the test of experience m other ways. It has been shown that not only do they suit the case of the literary man, or of others who lead a sedentary life, but they are adapted to the toiler, the athlete, the gymnast. We know coal-miners who daily do their work on a non-flesh diet. Men labouring in the puddling furnaces of the north have given their testimony to the advantages of vegetarianism. A vegetarian friend of our own is a bicyclist connected with a local club. He is one of the fastest and most enduring amateurs in the district. When out for a long spin, his companions are often sweating and showing signs of physical distress while he (to borrow an equine phrase) has not “ turned a hair.” Some time ago he undertook the training of a young man for a local bicycle contest. He put him on a diet of whole-meal bread and apples, and that young man took the first prize.

While on with this part of our subject, we would like to adduce the name and testimony of John Howard, the philanthropist. His name is familiar to all; but it may not be so generally known that he was a vegetarian. He was born at Hackney in 1726, and in early life was very delicate. He was apprenticed to a grocer, but being a man of means he purchased his indentures and went abroad. Embarking for Lisbon to examine the effects of the terrible earthquake, the ship in which he sailed was captured, and taken to France. Howard was put into prison, and endured terrible suffering. It was these sufferings which awakened his desire to ameliorate the condition of prisoners. He had wealth ; but he restrained even lawful appetite by subsisting entirely on a most rigidly abstemious vegetable diet, and carefully avoiding the use of wine and other alcoholic drinks. The passion of his life was to do good. To read his life is to find that he feared no danger, shrank from no toil, and spared no expense in his mission of benevolence to

the suffering. “In the period of 16 or 17 years,” says his biographer, “ he travelled between sixty and seventy thousand miles for the purpose of relieving the distresses of the human race. The fatigues, the dangers, the privations which he underwent for the good of others were such as no one else was ever exposed to in such a cause, and such as few could have endured. He often travelled several nights and days in succession without stopping, over roads almost impassable, in weather the most inclement, with accommodation the meanest and most wretched ; summer and winter, heat and cold, rain and snow in all their extremes failed alike to stay him for a moment in his course; whilst plague and famine, instead of being evils that he shunned, were those with which he was most familiar, and to many of the horrors of which he voluntarily exposed himself—visiting the foulest dungeons filled with malignant infection, spending forty days in a filthy and infected lazaretto ; plunging into encampments where the plague was inflicting the most horrid ravages, and visiting where none of his conductors dared to accompany him.” He finally fell a sacrifice, at the age of 64, to his Christ-like mode of life. The point on which we wish to direct a strong-light is, that though when young he was feeble in health, yet, through temperance and abstinence his constitution rallied, and he accomplished a work unparalleled in the annals of philanthropy—a work the remembrance of which the world will not soon let die. Who shall say, after reading the story of his life, that a vegetarian diet cannot feed the flame of noblest ambition, and nourish and sustain the body amid the most trying circumstances ?

This chapter might be greatly extended, for the materials at hand are ample. But enough has been said. Those who will can see our system, not in argument or in theory merely, but in living, practical shape. Men have sincerely tried it in the past, and men by tens and hundreds are still trying it, even in this realm of England; and they bear unanimous

testimony to the fact that it is not only equal to its opposed system, but in many ways vastly superior thereto.

A few observations on some of the current objections to the vegetarian system of diet may not be deemed out of place. The name of these objections is “ Legion.” They range upwards from the childish and absurd to the plausible and forcible. Let a person be so bold as to venture to recommend the vegetarian practice in the hearing of half-a-dozen people at a dinner party or round the tea-table, and these various objections now grown so familiar and venerable will be sure to be aired and do duty once more. Many objections are no doubt offered in perfectly good faith. They who urge them have been trained in the contrary practice. Their parents and grandparents built up and nourished their frames by means of the “roast beef of old England.” These fore-elders of theirs were very estimable people, and many of them reached a good old age. It seems almost like disrespect for the dead to suppose that the practice which sufficed for them can be improved upon.

Objections are started now and then for the purpose of eliciting information. They are not always like dropping shot defiantly sent by one who is snug behind his intrenchments of prejudice. No; the objector may be an inquirer after the truth, of the type of the “noble” Bereans of old. He may have a secret conviction that you are right after all, that you have found some light on the subject of health and diet which has not shone upon him. Let us not hastily conclude that he is prejudiced or a determined rejector of truth simply because he raises questions and sees difficulties. These must be faced and grappled with by the man who is feeling his way to truth.

The interests of every good cause have everything to hope from a free statement of doubts and difficulties in relation to them. A disbelief which is dumb, a prejudice which is inveterate, and which yet will not express itself, are difficult to get at. They are shielded as by triple mail. It is in the clash and conflict oi opinion that there lies hope for the future.

It would, however, be well not to let ourselves be too much impressed by the numerous objection? which are raked up against our system. What is there amongst the confessedly good institutions and movements of our time that is not objected to ? It certainly is not the Bible, or the Sunday School, or the Temperance Movement. Monarchy, aristocracy, democracy, each in its turn is assailed. Objections like offences, “ must needs come.” The way to deal with them is to reckon them by weight, not by tale ; to weigh them, not to number them. Moreover, arguments for and against should be balanced against each other. What matter though half-a-dozen reasons be assigned why such a thing is not likely to be, if more than a dozen can be brought forward to establish the contrary position.

In stating some of the more common objections to a non-flesh regimen, and how these objections may be met, we shall be travelling over old and well-trodden ground. The objections have been met over and over again, yet they are continually starting up afresh. The slain have to be slain once more. We are asked

r. What are the animals made for if not for food ? This is a very frequent question and one evidently designed to be a poser. Now there is a multitude of creatures in the universe which we do not eat and which we should not easily be persuaded to eat. Some of these we grant seem to be made for toil— such as the horse; others, however, may be made for the purpose of illustrating the wisdom of God, or for their own enjoyment in living the life God designed them for, or to fulfil some mission of utility in the world, not as yet in many instances revealed to us. We

should not grudge to the inferior creatures the life they possess, nor unnecessarily seek to destroy it. Does it not seem a stretching of the Lord-of-the-world theory about man to the point of arrogance and presumption to suppose that the only right the inferior orders have for existing is, that they thereby give to man the right to take away that existence for some fancied good of his own ? For anything kreophagists know to the contrary, God may be a zoologist delighting Himslf in the work of His hands, finding enjoyment in their enjoyment. Many persons cannot look upon any of God’s beautiful creatures without at once wondering how they would taste ; thus showing plainly enough that they are under the dominion of the lust of the palate, and to use an Hibernianism, they look at most tilings in heaven and earth through their stomachs. Jemima Wilson had listened to a conversation on vegetarianism in which her governess had raised the objection we have given, viz. : “ What were animals created for if not to be eaten ?” They took a quiet walk in the meadows of the Stour valley A beautiful view was afforded ; and in addition there was the cooing of the wood-pigeons and of the doves in the grove of firs ; the cawing of the rooks, and the blackbird’s melody. These and the multifarious notes from tire other birds combined to render Jemima’s joy complete. Her mother saw with delight her appreciation of these beauties of nature ; and her governess ■was little less gratified to see her favourite little pupil so happily admiring the scene in silent wonder. Breaking silence, her mother said, “ Jemima, what are you thinking about ? you look so full of thought.” “I was thinking,” said Jemima, “what a beautiful world this is, and how many happy creatures there are in it. Surely the joy of all the creatures we see and hear is a sufficient reason for their being created, though not one were killed for food.”

2. How would the animals be kept within bounds as to number if they were not killed for food ? Domestic

ones in that case would not be largely kept; and as for wild ones, especially such as are dangerous to man, a little effort would suffice to prevent their undue multiplication. This multiplication is mainly due to the ingenuity and effort put forth by man. Let these be wanting and Nature would take the matter into her own hands. Nature has her own checks against the undue increase of any one species, and but for the interference of man these checks would operate. The objection now under consideration strikes us as being somewhat visionary and alarming without reason. The difficulty does not now exist; it may never exist Anyhow, the task of providing against the evil antici' pated may be declined until there seem to be more certain signs of the evil presenting itself.

3. That farming, apart from the rearing and fattening °f cattle, would not pay. This is a common objection in these days, and according to the custom which now bears sway, there may seem to be a little in it. But the objection is founded more in the seeming than in the real. Our present system of farming we deem wrong to a serious degree. Our farms are as a rule too large to begin with, and these large farms are ever becoming larger by the absorption of smaller ones ; landed proprietors concluding that large farms will pay better in the end than small ones, because there will not have to be such an outlay upon buildings. This tendency to break up small farms and throw them together, we look upon as a serious mistake. Moreover, our raising of live stock to such an extent leaves us with our increasing population more and more dependent upon foreigners for our bread and other articles of food. Our American cousins profit very largely every year by the joint result of our dietetic habits and our system of agriculture. We want more of our lands using in the culture of fruits, vegetables, and nuts. Thus used it would return a greater per centage of profit than it does now. There would be, too, more labour employed, and we should

be less dependent upon other lands for our supplies. It seems clear to us that fresh lines will have to be followed in the cultivation of the soil of this our land. Agriculture will have to be superseded to a considerable extent by horticulture. The sooner we set about the change the better. Since writing the above we have fallen upon similar opinions as expressed by Mr. Henry Atherton in the “Industrial Review.” “Twelve years’experience,” he says, “in the occupation of a farm, satisfied me that Great Britain and Ireland might be turned into gardens, and that work might be found for every able-bodied man in the country.

commencing with the land system, can save this country from ruin.” “ Nothing can save us,” said the late noble teacher, Frederick Robertson, “ but a return to simpler habits and purer lives.”

4. How shall we obtain proper material for clothing if we give up flesh as food l It may be slowly that great changes in the customs of a people in regard to food, clothing, etc., are brought about, but great changes are already in progress. The inventive genius of men is busy in turning new material to account for manufacturing purposes. Science is working wonders in this direction. Waste material is being utilized. We doubt not that before long many substitutes will be found for both hides and wool. Should these grow scarce, necessity will aid the process of invention. Many hides now come to this country from India, consequently from people who reckon little of the flesh of cattle. Many sheep might be kept on our mountain slopes and fells for the sake of the wool they yield; and the poorer the land the finer the wool. We would venture to leave this possible difficulty to be grappled with when the time of its existence as a thing to be grappled with shall have come. We doubt not the issue will be satisfactory,

5. If flesh-food be discarded, where would you obtain an adequate supply of manure for the land l This objection has often been urged and as often answered, and all we shall attempt at present is to state some of the answers that have been given. Now let it be remembered there is no waste in Nature. From the moss on the rock to the finest trees that grace the landscape, the tribes of the vegetable kingdom not only take from nature but give back to her. “ The leaf that falls in autumn is the very best return to the ground for the nourishment of which the tree’s growth deprived it during the spring and summer, the best possible application to prepare the soil for the demands made upon it during the spring and summer which succeed.” Thus the harmony and balance in Nature is retained. Certainly the waste of the animal bodies supplies splendid material for the fertilizing of the land, but the material at first-hand would have sufficed. It must be obvious that more cannot be given back by the animal than it has taken in the shape of food; so where is the economy of keeping cattle in order to obtain their ordure ? Much manure might be obtained from the waste of our towns and villages—now often worse than wasted. For in many cases it is allowed to breed infection, and to poison our streams and rivers, which in former times, on account of their purity, were objects of beauty and sources of blessing. We need more practical science applying to this question of the fertilization of the land. Then it would be found that the supply of artificial manure might be all but boundless. Phosphate of lime can be obtained at the rate of about per ton, and in the opinion of some it is of equal value to bone-dust, which costs from flfi to flio per ton. Peat and turf converted into charcoal, which makes splendid manure, can be had for about ios. per ton. It has been shown by Mr. Mechi, in the Journal of the Agricultural Society, that the poorest clay can, at the cost of about 7d. per ton, be converted into a manure which causes Tiptree Heath itself to produce most abundant crops of

wheat. Indeed, the resources for aiding the products of nature are well-nigh inexhaustible. But

6. Why have we canine teeth if we are not designed to eat flesh ? Now this tooth-objection is considered by many opponents of our system a very formidable one indeed. Men who have a little knowledge of the technical names applied to the teeth are very fond of using this argument, which they seem to think unanswerable. A few months ago, the writer was in the company of a medical man of some reputation for skill. This professor of the healing art was told by a third person that we were a vegetarian. An exclamation of surprise was at once uttered, and the question put— “ My good sir, what have we canine teeth for ?” This was no doubt considered a poser, a question that admitted of no satisfactory reply, and therefore, as fatal to the claim' of vegetarianism to be a system based on Reason and Nature. Our rejoinder was, “ Doctor, intelligent and unbiassed men have given up the tooth objection as no longer tenable on scientific principles.” It might be a bold thing for one who was a layman to say to a professional man; we noticed, however, that afterwards little more was said. Professor Lawrence, whose remark we have already quoted, says, the teeth of man have no resemblance to those of carnivorous animals, except that their enamel is confined to their external surface. In each jaw we have sixteen teeth, viz.: four cutting, two pointed, four double-pointed, and six grinders. The names given to the various kinds of teeth are—i. Incisors, or cutting teeth. 2. Canine, or Cuspid; that is, pointed or eye teeth. 3. Bicuspids, that is, two-pointed or small cheek teeth. 4. Molars, that is, grinders or large cheek teeth. There are at least three distinctive kinds of teeth as to form and arrangement.

First, there is the form found in animals of the carnivorous order. The teeth on the sides of the mouth called molar or double-teeth, are in carnivorous animals placed together just like a saw. If you took a

pair of scissors and filed the blades so as to present the appearance of a saw, and then made the points of the teeth on one blade fit between the teeth of the opposite blade, you would perceive very readily the form and action of the teeth of the carnivorous animals. Their motion is to clip their food and then bolt it. Then, secondly, there is the form of teeth found in the herbivora. The double-teeth of these animals have a rough upper surface formed of layers of enamel like sharp chisels placed one beside another, with the sharp points upwards. They meet together: they do not pass over, but meet like the human teeth. This form of teeth is particularly adapted to the cutting of grass or herbage. The third form is that of the human species, which may be regarded as intermediate between the other two forms. They are widely removed from the carnivorous, and closely resemble the herbivora, though smaller. They are well adapted for crushing and pounding, rather than either tearing or clipping. Dr. Palmer, Dental Surgeon, has remarked that the structure of the human teeth is intermediate between the structure of the extremely carnivorous teeth on the one hand, and the extremely herbivorous on the other. The nearest approach to them is that of the ourang-outang ; “ and so similar are they,” says Mr. Palmer, “ that the best dentist, if he had a set of human teeth, and a set of those of the ourang-outang, all extracted and placed beside each other, would be unable positively to declare to which species they had belonged.” Now it is well known that that tribe of animals in its natural state is completely frugivorous and farinaceous in its dietetic habits. Thus the tooth-objection falls to the ground. Indeed, the weight of the argument on this point largely preponderates on the other side. Not only is man’s dentition best adapted to a non-flesh diet, but such a mode of living is friendly to the preservation of the teeth. Our rage for luxuries and an artificial dietary is very hurtful to the teeth; so much so, indeed, that an eminent American dentist recently observed quite gravely,

that he considered the tendency of civilization was to eliminate the teeth altogether, and that possibly a generation might some day appear without any organs of mastication.

7. A vegetarian diet would not suit my constitution. This is not the least common of the objections which find currency amongst those who like their beef-steak and mutton-chop. Perhaps they speak under the mistaken notion that a vegetarian dietary is so restricted as mainly to consist of bread, potatoes, and cabbages, a notion which is the child of ignorance. As to the regimen not suiting their constitution, that idea must be regarded as a mere prejudice so long as the objectors have failed to experiment on the subject. By constitution it is more than likely that the appetite or gratification of the palate is meant. Those who move in other walks of social reform will often meet with an objection similar in kind to the one now under consideration. A person whose taste has been perverted by steadfast devotion to an evil and unnatural habit, assures you that he cannot live without his pipe or cigar ; that he would rather lose his dinner than his indulgence. He is certain that he would feel “ real poorly” if denied it. And as for intoxicating beverages, how often do. persons tell us in very solemn language and with a grave face, that their constitution requires a little stimulus now and then, that they could not do the.ir work or enjoy life without a glass of beer or a thimbleful of spirits. Do any persons, except those of their own class, whose reasonings are warped by habit and appetite, suppose for a single moment that they would be any worse through the adoption of abstinence "principles ? For a time, indeed, they might miss their accustomed stimulus and solace. The sensations of faintness and sinking at the stomach might for a period be almost insupportable. These sensations are attributable to their intemperate habits. It is not drinkers alone who experience this sense of faintness. Imprudent eaters

of animal and other indigestible foods know what it is as well. It arises very often from the inflaming of the coats of the stomach by reason of the excess of food taken, or from an overflow of bile, mainly the effect of unwisdom in eating or drinking. We venture to believe that vegetists are freer from the feeling of faintness and feebleness than other persons. They can go a longer time without food, and find no discomfort in their abstinence, than can their flesh-eating neighbours. This is our deliberate conviction based on our own experience ; and remember, we have tried both sides of the question. Let the objector give vegetarianism a fair trial, and we have little fear that his constitution will suffer any detriment.

8. That a vegetarian diet fails to keep up the strength necessary for the doing of hard work ; and that persons who have adopted the system have broken down in health, and even died. We have already anticipated this objection in another part of our work. At the risk of some repetition, we shall admit that vegetarians are sometimes ill, and that like everybody else they even die. But are they as healthy, and do they live as long on an average as others ? We hold the opinion that if statistics of the ages of vegetarians were forthcoming they would tell in favour of the system. If a vegetarian happens to be ill, his abstinence from flesh is charged with causing his illness. “ He is killing himself by inches, starving himself,” etc., etc. We repeat that according to this kind of logic, flesh-eating has much to answer for. Ninety-nine out of every hundred adults in the hands of the doctors or undertakers are, or have been, flesh-eaters. Are we to say, then, that it is the consumption of animal food which has killed them, or driven them to the doctor ? If the scientific views given in this work are sound, then the objection that vegetarianism means lack of strength, or short life, is founded on a fallacy. It is not supported by facts. It is a notion based on the fashion of the age in this country of eating large quantities of

flesh. Increasing knowledge will ultimately explode the fallacy. Let a person’s dietary as a vegetist be well chosen, consisting of a due admixture of nitrogenous and carbonaceous foods, and he will not only be capable for work, but able to compete with any flesh-eaters that can be found. In the ranks of vegetarianism are found persons of every avocation in life. The system suits brain-workers, and those whose hands are horny with hard physical labour. It answers for the child and the athlete; for him who has to lead a sedentary life, and him whom duty or pleasure calls to walk long distances. To put vegetarianism on the same level as its opposed system is in our opinion to do it an injustice. We claim for it superiority over its rivals. This claim we trust we may without presumption regard as having been substantiated by the arguments and testimonies adduced in the course of the present little work. Let the reader “ mark, learn, and inwardly digest” our statements. Let him determine by Divine help to take his stand on the highest level of life possible to him ; not to be the votary of self-indulgence, the slave of fashion and appetite, but to live wisely, temperately, and purely.

The following recipes have been culled from various books that deal jvdth the question of Food-R.eform, but more particularly from the Dietetic Reformer, the accredited organ of the vegetarian society. We might of course have given many more recipes than appear here, but as we are not writing a cookery-book, but are simply desirous of furnishing within narrow limits a tolerably complete view of the dietetic question, it seems necessary to append a few recipes that may be helpful to the inquirer. “ The proof of the pudding

is in the eating of it” says the proverb, and so all disquisitions and controversy on the subject of man’s best diet naturally end in recipes which tell him how the pudding is to be made that may bear the test of eating. To the best of our ability we have pointed out methods of living which in our judgment will tell for good both upon the body and mind of those who may think fit to adopt them ; but as we are well aware from our own past experience, a man may be quite convinced that vegetarianism is better than flesheating, and yet be at a loss for a little time to know what to substitute in the room of that which he is willing to discard. Perhaps there never was a time when more works bearing on the selection and preparation of food poured from the press, or when so many food-papers appeared in our Magazines. As has recently been remarked by a writer in the Spectator, this is a phenomenon of quite recent origin dating from the time of the Irish famine, and the publication of Mr. Soyer’s famous book. All this testifies to the fact that sounder views as to the important influence food has on the entire nature of man are having a better chance of gaining currency. Would that all the literature that is being put into circulation disseminated right views. Cookery is called one of the “ fine arts.” So it should be ; but judging from what we meet with as prescribed in some cookery books, it often merits the title given it by an American as being one of the Black iVrts.

While the Food reformer rejects with decision and persistency many of the expensive and indigestible compounds in modern use which at first seem designed to whet the jaded appetite, and ultimately to acquaint their victim with the horrors of dyspepsia, he will still find scope in the new system for thought and ingenuity in trying to compass the two ends of rendering his food nutritious and also agreeable. It is not of course necessary that a great number of dishes should be set upon a man’s table, and that these should be rendered exceedingly appetizing in order that they

may tickle the palate ; yet variety and agreeableness are considerations which should by no means be left out of the question in culinary matters even by those in the humblest walks of life.

We will begin at the beginning with Bread, which is known to us all as the Staff of Life.

We of course recommend the coarse, called Whole Meal, or the unbolted. It is also called Constitutional, and Forthright. This kind may be too coarse for some delicate persons, or for some on first using it, and if so it may be mixed with a little fine flour ; or it might be improved by adding oatmeal, maize-meal, boiled or ground rice, or boiled potatoes well bruised and sifted into the flour. There is scope in this matter for much mature thought.

Unfermented and Unleavened Bread. Mix eight pounds of coarse wheat meal with two or three pints of soft water ; make into a stiff paste by kneading and beating ; let the dough stand in a warm place with a cloth over it for about an hour, then make it into small loaves or cakes about two inches thick, and bake them in a hot oven. A little salt may be added when mixing the dough, and in cold weather the water should be rather warm. This kind of bread at first would be deemed hard as well as sad, but it would be very wholesome, and after a short time it is probable it would be enjoyed.

Fermented or Raised Bread, i. Take four pounds of wheat meal, a little salt, a quart of cold water. Let the powder be well mixed with the meal, then pour in the water, stirring the meal while doing it until it forms into a light kind of dough. Bake it immediately.

2. Take four pounds of wheat meal, about an ounce of Dutch yeast, with a little butter. Knead with water or warm milk. Let it stand by the fire till it becomes light, and then place in tins and bake in a moderately quick oven. The quantity of flour and the other articles to correspond can be varied to suit circumstances.

Many kinds, all very useful, may be made. We are accustomed to one of a plain kind, which is both agreeable to the palate and easy of digestion. Take two pounds of wheat meal, with two or three ounces of butter or a little olive oil, if olive oil can be obtained ; let the articles be well mixed, and knead into moderately thick dough and then rolled into a quarter of an

inch in thickness, and cut into biscuits, and bake at once in a hot oven. They should be baked moderately hard. A vegetarian will relish them very much without any additional butter.

This article of diet is of great value to children. Young persons and adults would find it invaluable. When adults cannot forego the customary tea or coffee, let these be prefaced by a portion of some kind of porridge, even if the quantity taken be inconsiderable.

1. Peameal. Obtain Symington’s. The shilling tins from a good grocery house will cost about 9^d. per tin. For one person take three or four tablespoonsful per meal, a small portion of salt, and a lump of butter ; then pour in boiling water sufficient to absorb the flour, and to make when well stirred the whole into the consistency of a thick paste. It may not be liked at first by some persons, but as it is harmless the individual should persevere in the use, and it will soon become palatable. It is easily digested, and would agree with most persons. It would lay a good dietetic foundation for the day. The Scotch call it Pease Brose. It is highly appreciated by them. It commends itself to the working classes not only for its economy, but for the readiness with which it is prepared, and the great sustaining power it possesses.

2. Oatmeal or Wheatmeal Porridge. Let the water be boiling, then take the meal into the left hand allowing it to run gently through, stirring all the while with the right hand, adding sufficient meal to make the porridge of the proper consistency. Add a little salt. Let the porridge boil from ten to fifteen minutes. Pour on a plate or into a basin. Eat with milk, or molasses, or a little preserved fruit. The eating of a biscuit or a bread crust along with it would be beneficial as it would tend to aid the digestion, and otherwise contribute to the making of a substantial meal.

3. Hominy makes a nutritious and economical porridge. This useful article of food is prepared from Indian corn. Five pounds may be had for 8j4d. or 9d. For porridge it is well to cree it ail night in the oven in an earthen jar. Then in the morning let it be prepared with, milk according to preference. Hominy is one of our strongest articles of food. Its solid properties being about 93 'per cent, according to one authority ; and if so, at the top of the list in solid nutritious matter.

4. Rice makes a capital porridge with milk. It is cheap, nutritious, and palatable to most persons. Indeed rice is not duly valued by the working classes. As an article of food it is friendly to the poor. Children who get this kind made in milk would find it a great boon.

Dinner. This is regarded by Englishmen as the principal meal of the day. Many persons have a notion that a dinner in

the true sense is all but an impossibility in the absence of flesh. Illusive idea ! Men may feast right royally in the complete absence of flesh. We will briefly point out a few dishes which will be both plain and economical, and sustaining to those who have to toil hard.

Some of our readers may regard the notion of making soup without meat as a wild and absurd one ; or will suppose, if made, that they will be insipid and of little value. But the doubter need only bring the matter to the best possible test— that of experience—to find out that he is labouring under a great mistake.

1. Split Pea-Soup needs only to be made in the same or in a similar way to that in which it is usually made, minus the flesh. In addition to the peas vegetables can be added :—carrot, onion, or turnip, or celery, or all these articles according to taste, with a moderate portion of butter with other articles of seasoning. Let the whole be thoroughly boiled for two hours and a half or three hours, and the experimenter will find that he has got for his family that which is both toothsome and nourishing.

2. Lentil Soup. For two or three persons take about a teacupful of lentils, let them be washed in two or three waters and picked. Boil in a sufficient quantity of water as for pea soup. Should boil three hours and a half or four hours. Add suitable seasoning, and when preferred vegetables, turnip, carrot, onions, or vary the vegetables according to preference. A little celery is a useful addition, especially from its medical properties. For information as to the value of the Egyptian Lentils and the best way of using them, those who can should read Mr. W. Gibson Ward’s tract, entitled—“Food for the Million.” Price one penny.

This, pie is made with or without crust. Take a few potatoes, pare and cut into four parts, place these in the bottom of the dish. One or two carrots and the same of onions and of turnips, and a small portion of tapioca ; place one or two layers of each kind of vegetables and of tapioca till the dish is well filled. Add a moderate quantity of good butter with proper seasoning according to the taste. Some put in a layer of bread crumbs : these might be placed at the top. This pie is a substantial dish for a working family. The vegetables should be about half cooked before made into a pie. This would add much to its value.

Savoury Pie. “Make in the ordinary way with alternate layers of sliced potatoes and sage and onions. Have ready some

red beans (whole lentils will do if red beans are not attainable, but red beans are the best) stewed to a mash, which pour over the above, adding a little olive oil. Cover with a paste made by wholemeal and olive oil” (or sweet butter.)—E. S. Hyatt.

Take a teacupful and a half, and a Spanish onion, place in a dish or earthen jar nearly full of water. Let them stew till soft, and the water has nearly evaporated. Place in a tureen and eat with bread. The beans may be steeped overnight. Lentils may be prepared in a similar way. The man who works hard will find that this dish possesses staying powers.

Have a good-sized saucepan and plenty of water. Add a little salt and even a small portion of lump sugar. Cut the cabbage, and let the water boil before placing in the cabbage. Remove the lid, and boil gently till it is tender. Strain in a cullender. Serve with white sauce. Or an excellent sauce may be made from stewed tomatoes and bread crumbs, or thickening with a little wheaten meal.

“ Boil in a very little water a finely chopped cabbage. When nearly done, add half the quantity of cooked tomatoes. Cook well, but be careful to avoid burning.”—'American.

Select if you can a large cauliflower and place it in salt water to drive out any insects which may lodge in the cauliflower. Carefully wash to free from the salt and wrap in a napkin. Place in a steamer and cook until the stalk is soft and yielding to gentle pressure. Twenty or thirty minutes are usually required. Serve with white or tomato sauce. If steaming is not convenient, the cauliflower may be boiled the same as cabbage. —American.

This is a very valuable vegetable especially to poor men who command a garden. Its soundness now is very uncertain, and this shows that it may be unduly cultivated. Those who plant the potato to the general neglect of other vegetables may be said to place all their eggs in one basket. Those whose gardens are utilised for the growing of vegetables should not overlook the parsnip, beet, onion, turnip, and especially peas and beans.

The value ot the potato when sound depends much upon the way in which it is cooked.

Roast Potatoes. This is doubtless the best way of preparing the potato as it posesses a sweetness not found in any other method of cooking. Wash thoroughly, cut out the deep eyes, and place in an oven well heated. Bring them to the table at once.

Boiled Potatoes. Select them as far as possible of equal size, place them in boiling water, when ready turn off the water and let them remain on the hob a few minutes till the moisture evaporates. Boiled potatoes are half spoiled through being served up in too moist a condition. If it is desirable to retain the heat they may be covered by a napkin folded once or twice. When potatoes are old and withered they are improved by being placed in cold water an hour or two before used.

Steamed Potatoes. If peeled it should be as thin as possible, as the best portion of the potato lies just beneath the skin. Place them in the steamer when the water is boiling well. When ready, allow them to stand in the steamer uncovered for a few minutes, or place them in the oven to render them dry and mealy. Some prefer them both boiled and steamed unpeeled. They may not look quite so attractive, and will be a little longer in cooking, but they retain their heat and mealy character better.

Stewed Potatoes. Take cold boiled potatoes, cut them into thin slices, cover with milk or a little cream and water, and stew slowly till warmed through. Many more methods of preparing the potato, both for the breakfast or dinner table, might be given ; but through thought and care the best plans will easily be hit upon.

These are best stewed or baked, as all the juices are retained by this method. Wash, scrape, and if large, cut into quarters. Place them in water sufficient to prevent their burning. When nearly ready add a little milk and thicken with a portion of flour. Let them simmer a quarter of an hour. They may be eaten with jam.

Browned Parsnips. Cold-cooked parsnips may be cut into slices about half an inch thick, and browned in the oven. They make a palatable and nutritious dish either for breakfast or dinner. As the potato is so uncertain they should be more generally cultivated than they are.

Boiled Parsnips. Wash carefully and preserve whole so as to retain the juices. Put in a little salt and boil steadily about three quarters of an hour. Drain in a cullender. Serve with white sauce, currant jam, or a portion of tomato.

Boiled Beets. Prepare in a similar way to parsnips- Guard against breaking or bruising the roots. Boil till they will yield to a gentle pressure. Boil one or two hours according to size. Then place them in cold water, and rub off the skin with the hand. Being very sweet they will require little or no seasoning.

Baked Beets. Wash thoroughly, but do not scrape or cut them. They usually require baking from four to five hours. Place them in cold water and rub off the skin. Lemon juice is a good relish with beets. Both beets and parsnips should be more generally cultivated. They would form a nice addition to the dinner, and at little expense of money and time.

Called Kidney Beans in some countries. Pull the pods while tender, cut off the ends, strip off the strings that line the edges. Cut them length-wise in a slanting direction into small pieces, place a small portion of salt in the water, boil with a gentle heat until tender. Strain in a cullender, serve with white sauce. Some consider cooked tomatoes an important addition.

Boiled. It is said they are best boiled unpared, being less watery and better flavoured. Should boil about an hour. Strain in a cullender, squeeze a little. Serve on a toast with white sauce.

Mashed Turnips. Pare, after washing, and cut them into pieces. Let the water boil and just cover the turnips. Place them in a cullender and squeeze out the water. Mash them with a little milk until free from lumps. If put into the saucepan, and again placed over the fire for five or ten minutes, will be an improvement.

In giving a few directions for preparing omelets, we will avail ourselves of some of the directions supplied by the late Mr. J. Smith. Omelets may be of various kinds : plain, savoury, ox-sweet.

Plain Omelets. Eggs four, butter, one or two ounces. To these may be added bread crumbs two to four ounces, and mashed potatoes two ounces, or flour one ounce, or boiled rice four ounces.

To any of these forms add a little salt and pepper, or cayennne, or nutmeg and mace, and milk or cream sufficient to give the whole a proper consistency. Grated cheese and French beans boiled and cut small, of each two ounces, parsley a quarter of air

ounce, may be added to the beaten eggs and butter ; or the butter may be omitted if not deemed necessary.

Savoury Omelets. Four eggs, butter a quarter to half an ounce, flour one table spoonful, cream or milk a teacupful, parsley shred fine a dessert spoonful, two middle-sized onions boiled and shred, cayenne and salt a little of each. The whole should be of a light consistency, and then may be either fried or baked in cups.

Instead of the onion add chives, beets, or spinach, chopped small, one dessert spoonful ; sweet leeks a small teaspoonful, lemon, thyme, one teaspoonful. A very little tarragon may be added.

Another. One egg, bread crumbs two or three ounces, soaked in cream ; a little parsley and a few chives chopped, pepper and salt. Put the mixture into a well buttered dish, and bake twenty minutes.

Sweet Omelets. Eggs four, butter one or two ounces, sugar half to one ounce. Fry the omelet carefully, and just before turning it upon the dish put two spoonsful of preserves (raspberries, currant jelly, etc.,) in the centre.

Another. Eggs four, sifted sugar one ounce, flour a small tablespoonful, a little lemon peel shred fine, then cream one pint. Pour the mixture into a buttered pan, and bake at a very moderate heat twenty minutes. Garnish with preserves.

These are a common and valuable accompaniment of dinner. Many physiologists object to the use of pudding as a common article^ of food. Though not. requiring thorough mastication and consequent insalivation it is apt to prove detrimental to the digestive powers. The best kinds only should be made, and these eaten slowly, then the evil feared will be mainly escaped if not totally. Many kinds of puddings may be made in a family ; indeed there is no need to have the same kind two days together. We need but give very few directions on the subject, as most persons have been introduced into the mysteries of the pudding art.

Rice Pudding. Take a cupful of rice and cree for a short time in water, add about a quart of milk, a portion of butter, and if wishful a few good raisins. Stir all well together and bake till ready. A little more than two hours will be required.

Hominy Pudding. Take a large cupful of hominy, and mix in a pint of milk and another in water. Add a little sugar, and bake in a hot oven for about an hour and a half. Our cook, who makes first-class hominy puddings, assures us that milk and water make a better one than all milk will.

Barley Pudding. Take half a pound of pearl barley, wash it well, and steep it through the night. Pour off the water, and add about a quart of milk, or a pint of milk and one of water, and a portion of sugar, and bake about an hour in a slow oven.

Durham Pudding. Put half a pound of whole wheat in an earthenware stone jar, containing sufficient water to cover, into an oven which has been baking bread, stir occasionally before going to bed, and allow it to remain there all night covered with a lid or plate. Then bake a sufficient quantity of the stewed wheat, adding milk or a well-beaten egg, until well browned. Eat with stewed apples, gooseberries, plums or prunes, along with milk. Children are very fond of this pudding. The stewed wheat is excellent for breakfast, prepared with milk. It is bread without yeast. It gives the teeth due exercise, and tastes delightfully to a true palate. Eat stewed wheat if you would be free from rheumatic pains.—W. M. Wright.

The Feversham Pudding. Materials : Wheat meal a half quartern (l|^lb.) ; salad oil, half a flask (more or less according to temperature) ; Dr. Nichols’s sanitary bread raiser, or other baking powder ; mix with milk or water. Make into biscuits or rolls, and bake brown and crisp. Excellent for those who carry out dinners.—D.R.

Oatmeal Pudding. A pint of sound oatmeal, a quart of new milk warmed. Stir the oatmeal into the milk, then let them stand all night. Butter a basin, put in the oatmeal and milk, take a spoonful of baking powder, then tie over the well-flavoured cloth and boil fully two hours. If eaten as a pudding proper, serve with custard sauce, or with black currant jam sauce, or with treacle sauce. If eaten as meat—and good meat it is— then use tomato sauce. Tinned tomatoes cost 7d. to 9d. a tin ; a quarter of a tin fried with butter, flour, salt, and water, for ten minutes, will be enough for three or four adults, or half a dozen children, giving a meal of the most wholesome and nutritious character at the lowest possible cost.-—W. Gibson Ward.

German Apple Pudding. Butter a pie dish and lay in it a layer of bread crumbs, then a layer of good cooking apples, pared and quartered ; then a layer of good brown sugar ; then a very thin layer of little bits of butter ; then a layer of bread crumbs, and so on until the dish is filled, taking care to have crumbs at the top. Bake the pudding in a moderate oven for three quarters of an hour. Before serving, sift sugar on the top. —The Garden.

Plum Pudding. Materials : Half a pound of flour, half a pound of wheat meal, half a pound of ground rice, one nutmeg (grated), half a packet of mixed spice, one drachm of ground ginger, twenty drops of essence of lemon, three ounces of nut oil (the frying oil used by the Jews), quarter of a pound of bread crumbs, quarter of a pound of sago, one pound of sugar, three quarters of a pound of apples (cored and pared and chopped), three quarters of a pound of Sultanas or raisins, two pints of water. Mix and boil in a basin seven to eight hours,—T. W. Richardson.

Semolina Pudding. To half a pound of semolina add a quart of milk, a well-beaten egg, and half a pound of Smyrna raisins.

Bake in an oven until well browned. Give the boys a chance of this with bread or biscuits along with milk.—W. M. Wright.

Lentil Pudding. Two cups of lentils, and fully two cups of water. Boil only, and then lift to one side, and bring to the simmer for twenty minutes. Before dishing add a small bit of butter, and egg whisked up, some pepper and salt. If to be used cold, pour into a mould.—Young Housekeeper.

Potato Stew. Peel and place in a stewpan three pounds of potatoes, with water a little more than suffices to cover them ; add a handful of chopped parsley. When boiled to a mash thicken with flour. Mellow with three-fourths of an ounce of butter, flavour with salt, and boil for a few minutes, stirring of course to mix the latter-added ingredients. This is a cheap wholesome dish, and, by reason principally of the parsley, particularly suited for children.—People’s Friend.

How to Boil Rice. There are many ways of boiling rice. Some prefer it boiled with milk, but milk should never be boiled. Others boil it with water and sugar : this is not good either. One good way is to put it into a stewpan with cold water ; use just as little water as the rice will absorb. When boiled flavour with a little salt. Sup with sugar or stewed fruit and milk. The Indian method of boiling rice is to drown it amongst water, then boil it in this water which causes the peas of the rice to swell to a very large size.—People’s Friend.

The Medley Soup. Materials : One tablespoonful each of split peas, grey peas, haricots, hominy, pearl barley, groats, sago, tapioca, rice, wheat, oatmeal, and two spoonsful of lentils. Any one sort to be increased to modify the flavour as desired. To these add three or four onions, a carrot, a turnip, a parsnip, three potatoes, a little celery and cabbage, or any other vegetables. Method.—Soak for twelve hours, or over-night, the peas, lentils, haricots, wheat and pearl barley. After boiling as ordinarily, add the vegetables half an hour before serving. One breakfast cup of the mixture put in a stewpot to simmer in the oven will make delicious soup for six persons. Flavour to taste, adding Worcestershire or tomato sauce, if preferred.

Lentil Sandwiches. To prepare the lentils for making sandwiches, boil them with as little water as possible until soft ; then dish them, adding, whilst hot, a bit of butter, a little salt and pepper, and an egg, mixing all together. The result will be a most agreeable compound, which, when cold, will eat like a bit of cheese.—A Young Housekeeper.

Lentils. Our best. Half a pound of uncrushed lentils, one carrot (chopped), three onions, one leek, two pounds of parsnips, one) ounce of chopped parsley, pepper, salt, a dessert spoonful of brown sugar, and three large crusts. Wash and

pick the lentils, and soak them all night. Boil for three hours in a saucepan, and press through a cullender. Heat up again and serve. A delicious soup.—Food for the People.

Benjamin's Mess. Cut up a small cabbage, one large carrot, a pound of onions, three ounces of celery, and two ounces of haricot beans. Season with thyme or parsley, allspice, and black pepper. Boil five hours in two quarts of water ; thicken with rice, barley, tapioca, or sago, and boil one hour more. Served with butter or salad oil is an improvement but unnecessary.—Mr. Groom Napier.

Haricot Albino. Boil a pint of white haricot beans and a small stick of celery five hours in three pints of water. Fry lightly in the best salad oil half a pound of onions, and add to the haricot ; flavour with black pepper. This is very nourishing and palatable.—Mr. Groom Napier.

Potato Pie. Peel and slice three pounds of potatoes; place them in alternate layers with sliced onions and quarter-pound of well-boiled tapioca ; flavour with Worcester sauce, or mushroom ketchup and lemon-juice, and three ounces of butter ; dust over the top with a thick coating of bread crumbs. Is very nourishing, and can be enjoyed several times weekly.—Mr. G. Napier.

Stale Bread. When immersed in cold water for a moment or two, and re-baked for about an hour, is in every respect equal to newly baked bread.—D.C.

Stale Bread. I find the best restorative is to place the loaf, roll, or cake in a steamer over boiling water, for ten minutes or more, according to size ; then take out, allow the steam to evaporate completely; in a short time the bread will eat like new to the uninitiated.—M.H.

Mince Meat. Ingredients : One-aod-a-half pounds of apples, three-quarters of a pound of currants, half a pound of Sultana raisins, a quarter of an ounce of candied citron, two teaspoons-ful of allspice, a quarter of a pound of good table raisins, eight ounces of raw sugar, three ounces of candied lemon, one ounce of candied orange, a quarter of a teaspoonful of ground cinnamon, a very little nutmeg, half a pound of fresh butter. Instructions : Chop or grate the apples very small, stone and cut the raisins, adding the currants, the candied fruits (cut into small thin pieces), the sugar and spice, and lastly the butter, melted and stirred well in. Make the tarts in the usual way. Put the mince meat in a jar, tie a paper over it, and keep it in a dry, cool place.— The late Mrs. Simpson.

Good Bread (without Yeast or Poiuder). Add two tablespoonfuls of olive oil to a pound of wheat meal, mix as usual, and bake in small flat cakes.—J.N.

Nutritious Gravy. Wheat meal porridge made thin, with salt, vinegar to taste, and a tablespoonful (or less) of oil to sauce-boat full. This without the vinegar is a most nourishing substitute for the ordinary parsley sauce or melted butter, especially if poured hot over finely minced onions, mint, sage,

thyme, marjoram, cloves, watercress, or parsley. But the most savoury vegetarian gravy can be produced without butter, by frying onions in oil, draining and thickening the oil in the usual way, adding water, flour, pepper, and salt.-Dietetic Reformer,

Fruits should form an important part of the dietary of the vegetarian, or of him who is solicitous to make the most of this short life. There can be little doubt that of all kinds of food fruit is the most natural. Centuries of artificial habits have not been able to destroy man’s innate love of flowers, and his taste for these choicest productions of nature. This taste is a survival of more primitive times, and is the promise of a return to a more natural mode of living. Even the man whose taste has suffered the most perversion from wrong dietetic habits will find his mouth water as he reads Milton’s description of the enter- ■ tainment given to the archangel Raphael by our first parents. And still “ earth’s hallowed mould” ripens “ fruits of all kinds, in coat rough or smooth rined, or bearded husk or shell.” Still “ juiciest gourds” can be plucked ; and the “ inoffensive must” crushed from the grape, and “ meaths from many a berry.”

It is still in man’s power to “ temper dulcet creams from sweet kernels pressed.”

There is a good deal of fruit used in this country, more, not only absolutely, but relatively to the population, than there ever was. But we are afraid our fruit eating does not do us the good it might do, because it is eaten at wrong times. Instead of being regarded as a constituent part of a meal, fruit in its uncooked state is regarded as something supplemental and accessory to the meal. People will partake of it when they have already eaten enough ; or it is eaten between meals.

Fruit is often credited with causing a deal of sickness and diarrhoea in the summer season. In our opinion there would be little danger of evil results following the use of fruit at every meal, if in other

respects the dietary were a wise one. Sickness and purging are often no more than the effects of nature’s struggle to cast off the ponderous burden of deleterious compounds with which she has been laden. Wholesome fruit Nature loves ; but fruit mixed with “rich” pastry and greasy flesh is another matter. No wonder if she sometimes revolts against that. In the use of uncooked ripe fruit at ordinary meals, we believe the Americans are in advance of us. We hope the time will soon come when this dietetic practice of our American kinsmen will more generally obtain amongst us. There is no reason why it should not, despite the fact that our raw fruits are not equal (or at least of late years have not been equal) to those grown in continental or trans-Atlantic lands. For the orchards and gardens of these lands are open to us ; and, thanks to these, in our worst seasons there is no reason to fear a dearth of wholesome fruit. It is to be hoped that future seasons will be more propitious to the “ kindly fruits of the earth,” and that, as before touched upon, a decided impetus may be given to fruit-culture amongst us. But in the meantime, many think that our fruit supply from abroad, might, by dint of enterprise, be rendered richer and more varied. Many varieties of oranges and other fruits are practically unknown in this country. If science can bring us dead meat from Australia and America, cannot she contrive to give us the rich fruits of the Tropics or of the West India Islands ? But while ripe and sweet fruits may be eaten in their natural state, those less mature or tasty may be cooked. When cooked, it is well to eat them with good wheat-meal bread. In this form they will be conducive to health of body and mind.

Moderately tart apples, or very juicy sweet apples are the best for baking. Select good ripe apples, free from imperfections, and of nearly equal size ; wipe carefully to remove all dirt, and bake an hour in a dish containing a little water. Sweet apples require a little longer baking.—American,

No. i. Select fine, large, sour apples ; pare and core them without dividing ; fill the centre with dates ; place them in the baking dish, adding a little water ; and bake until well done.

No. 2. Pare, core, and cut into small pieces a sufficient number of sour apples. Chop fine one-third the quantity of stoned dates or raisins ; place a layer of the apples in a deep baking dish ; add a layer of the dates ; alternate thus until the dish is full; add a little water if much juice is needed. Bake slowly.—American.

Raspberries are never fit to be eaten till ripe, and then they require neither sugar nor cooking. If they are cooked, care must be taken to avoid cooking too long, as they are very delicate, and lose some of their best qualities when subject to long cooking. Simply scalding is all that is required. A few dates may be added if sweetening is desired.—American.

This is a very useful fruit as an addition to other fruits and, to puddings of various kinds. It also makes an excellent dish when stewed alone as other dried fruit. Black currants are excellent for preserving.—American,

Peel the stalks and cut them into thin slices: stew them in a small quantity of water: with a sufficient quantity of dates or sugar to sweeten to the taste.

Scald until the skins wrinkle, and then peel, and stew with a moderate heat for half an hour ; thicken with rusks, graham bread crumbs, or oatmeal; cook a few minutes longer after adding thickening. Tomatoes are richer if cooked two hours.— American.

In these days, What shall we drink ? is a question only second in importance to the question, What shall we eat ? The man who rejects flesh as food will, if in other respects his dietary be well chosen, seldom suffer from thirst, except indeed he is subjected to severe exertion. In that case the extra loss of moisture which takes place in copious perspiration, needs to be made up by the absorption of liquids. Ordinarily, however, the inevitable tea and coffee, with the moisture contained in the food taken, will suffice to supply the system with the due amount of moisture it needs; for be it remembered the body in a healthy condition is mainly composed of water—six or seven parts out of eight being thus made up.

All the inferior animals, except when young, drink water and water only. This not only shows the important part played by water in the economy of Nature, but serves to point a moral as to the perverted ingenuity of man in inventing substitutes for this primitive and all-sufficient beverage of man. He seems to have an inveterate repugnance to pure water. He cannot take it neat. He drinks iced water, soda water, malt beer, wines, and many kinds of spirituous liquors. A glance down the advertising columns of the press will give us some idea of the number of so-called health-giving beverages that are continually being invented and offered to the thirsty nerve-shattered public. Now as to alcoholic drinks they are undoubtedly injurious, and many of the much-puffed non-alcoholic ones are of doubtful value.

Those who will have a hand in the preparation of their beverages may make a cooling and appetizing drink of various fruits and herbs—from lemons, oranges, currants, rhubarb, &c. The expressed juices of these when taken in moderation are harmless and wholesome. But those who prefer to drink water should seek all the year round to have it filtered, and in many cases boiled. It is said unfiltered rain-water

is not fit to drink after it has stood a day or two. Of all drinks pure soft water is the best. As we write for plain working families, we will give on the subject of drinks the views of E. A. Parks, M.D.

“ If you wish to keep your health to old age, never touch spirits. . . . Better still if you can abstain from beer al

together, and spend the money in more food and better clothing. It is astonishing how much may be done with the money spent on beer. Instead of beer there are various agreeable drinks. If a little rice is washed in cold water, and then is boiled in a good deal of water, the fluid, if a little sugar is added, is a pleasant and nutritious drink. It is much used in India by our men. In winter it may be taken warm, in summer cold ; and in summer, if you buy an ounce of powdered tartaric, or citric acid, which is very cheap, and put a small quantity in this rice water, a very refreshing acid beverage is obtained. You will soon learn when you have got acid enough—and it should not be too acid ; only just enough to be pleasant. The boiled rice, of course, must be used as food.”

“ If you live in the country and can get skimmed milk, nothing can be better, both for you and your family, than to drink this at dinner and supper. It is well always to boil it, and a little sugar makes it still more agreeable. No acid must be added to this.”

“ If you have a garden and can get either currants or raspberries, the pressed juice, boiled in water and then mixed with a little tartaric acid, and bottled, will keep a long time, and is a very wholesome and agreeable beverage. A little oatmeal boiled in water, and then a little sugar added, also gives a good drink ; so that you can have a choice of beverages if you find the want of something besides water. But if you can get to like plain water you are a lucky man.”

“When you have any heavy work to do, do not take either beer, cider, or spirits. By far the best drink is thin oatmeal and water, with a little sugar. The proportions are a quarter of a pound of oatmeal to two or three quarts of water, according to the heat of the day, and your work, and thirst; it should be well boiled, and then an ounce or one ounce and a half of brown sugar added. If you find it thicker than you like, add three quarts of water. Before you drink it shake up the oatmeal well through the liquid. In summer drink this cold ; in winter hot. You will find it not only quenches thirst, but will give you more strength and endurance than any other drink. If you cannot boil it, you can take a little oatmeal mixed with cold water and sugar, but this is not so good ; always boil it if you can. If at any time you have to make a very long day, as in harvest, and cannot stop for meals, increase the oatmeal to half a pound or three quarters, and the water to three quarts if you are likely to be very thirsty. If you cannot get oatmeal, wheat flour will do, but not quite so well.”

“It is quite a mistake to suppose spirits give strength ; they give a spurt to a man, but that goes off; and if more than a certain quantity is taken, they lessen the power of work.”

“For quenching thirst few things are better than weak coffee and a little sugar. One ounce of coffee and a little sugar boiled in two quarts of water, and cooled, is a very thirst-quenching drink. Cold tea has the same effect ; but neither are so supporting as oatmeal. Then cocoa is very refreshing, and supporting likewise, but is more expensive than oatmeal.”

Roast good barley, instead of coffee beans, to a nice rich brown. Grind in a coffee mill and use as coffee, with sugar and cream. I prefer it to my cocoa, and it is much cheaper. It is best roasted in a revolving oven as coffee beans are.—-Joseph Ashmore.

A refreshing drink is often recommended, made by pouring boiling water on tamarinds. It is stated unless the stones are first removed, the infusion is likely to be poisonous.—Dietetic Reformer.

Put two pounds and a half of loaf sugar into a saucepan with one pint of water ; let it boil for a quarter of an hour, stirring all the time Put on the fire in a saucepan three pounds of bilberries, let them boil for half an hour, pass them through a jelly-bag, and add the juice to the syrup. Put it on the fire again, let it boil well up for three minutes, lift it carefully to one side, skim all the froth off as gently as possible, then pour it into bottles and cork for future use. One tablespoonful in a tumbler of water before breakfast is considered quite a heal-all in the midland counties. It certainly contains some very valuable acids, and is a refreshing beverage on a hot summer’s day.— The Teacher’s Assistant,

A teaspoonful of fine oatmeal, half a teaspoonful of Epp’s cocoa, moisten with cold water, pour on a breakfast cup of boiling water, boil one minute.—J. Nugent.

Two nice cooling and refreshing drinks for summer may be made. i. Roses, lime-juice cordial, and water. 2. By pouring boiling water on West Indian tamarinds, and allowing to cool. —Henry M. Steele, M.R.C.S.

Camphor Julep. The late Dr. Copland’s. Four ounces of camphor water, one ounce and a half of spirit of mindererus, half an ounce of sweet spirit of nitre, quarter of an ounce of Ipecacuanha wine, two ounces of simple syrup. A tablespoonful, or even less, of this beneficent, simple, and uncostly mixture, taken the last thing at night and the first thing in the morning, and before going into the open air, has a wonderful effect in protecting the throat and chest. Can be made up by any chemist.—Dietetic Reformer.

Blood Poisoning. In the Ladies’ Treasury for February, 1877, appeared the following recipe for blood poisoning, whether it spring from jaundice or from diseases acquired from vaccination. Put the white portion of a raw freshly laid egg into a tumbler, add less than a wine glassful of cold water once boiled, beat both together till to a froth, then drink just ten minutes before a meal. Take this three times of day.—-Dietetic Reformer.

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