CHAPTER VII.

SOCIAL CHARACTER OF THE BEVERAGE.

Since the introduction of Tea into England, but more especially

since the British public has patronised it, a marked improvement

characterises the tone and manners of Society. It is not, possibly, too

great an assumption to assert that there must exist something about

Tea specially suitable to the English constitution and climate; for

not even in Scotland or Ireland, nor in any European country, is the

beverage consumed to a like extent. Certain travellers aver that a

large consumption of the leaf obtains in Russia; but it is chiefly the

upper classes who are addicted to its use. The moujiks, peasants,

and artisans scarcely know the taste of it, for now, as in the time of

Peter the Great, they regard _vodká_ as their only national drink.

[Illustration: FIRING AND COLOURING.--When the teas are half roasted,

powdered Prussian blue, plumbago, gypsum, and turmeric are added,

except to that tea ordered pure and free from all mineral facing

powder.]

That all classes of the community in this country have derived much

benefit from the persistent use of Tea, is placed beyond dispute. It

has proved, and still proves, a highly prized boon to millions. The

artist at his easel, the author at his desk, the statesman fresh from

an exhaustive oration, the actor from the stage after fulfilling an

arduous _rôle_, the orator from the platform, the preacher from the

pulpit, the toiling mechanic, the wearied labourer, the poor governess,

the tired laundress, the humble cottage housewife, the votary of

pleasure even, on escaping from the scene of revelry, nay, the Queen on

her throne, have, one and all, to acknowledge and express gratitude for

the grateful and invigorating infusion.

Shortly after it had became fashionable to partake of Tea, persons of

quality in England were wont to invite their friends to a “dish” of the

newly-imported beverage. Lord Macaulay mentions how “Tea, which at the

time Monk brought the Army of Scotland to London (A. D. 1660), had

been handed round to be stared at and just touched with the lips as a

great rarity of China, was, eighty years later, a regular article of

import, and was soon consumed in such quantities that financiers began

to consider it as an important source of revenue.” Seven years later

Pepys has this entry in his famous Diary: “Home, and there find my wife

making of Tea, a drink which Mr. Pelling, the apothicary, tells her is

good for her cold.” That Queen Anne ranked among the votaries of the

leaf is manifest from Pope’s couplet:--

“Thou, great Anna, whom three realms obey,

Dost sometimes counsel take, and sometimes Tay.”

From this time forth writers of renown make constant allusions to

the new drink. Essayists in the _Spectator_, the _Tatler_, and other

literary organs, are ever dropping remarks respecting the tea-table.

Pope, in his “Rape of the Lock,” when Belinda is declaring what

terrible things she would rather have had happen, than have lost her

favourite curl, makes her cap everything by the wish that she could be

transported to--

“Some isle

Where the gilt chariot never marks the way,

Where none learn ombre, none e’er drink Bohea,”--

than which privation she can imagine nothing worse.

Then what a source of social pleasure the “afternoon Tea” becomes!

Brady, in his well known metrical version of the “Psalms,” thus

illustrates the advantages accruing therefrom:--

“When in discourse of Nature’s mystic powers

And noblest themes, we pass the well spent hours,

Whilst all around the Virtues--sacred band--

And listening Graces, pleased attendants stand.

Thus our Tea conversations we employ,

Where with delight, instruction we enjoy,

Quaffing without the waste of time or wealth,

The sovereign drink of pleasure and of health.”

The poet Cowper’s praise of the beverage has been sadly hackneyed;

nevertheless, as the Laureate of the tea-table, his lines are worthy

of further reproduction. Who cannot recall how Mrs. Gilpin scornfully

characterises her neighbours’ children as being markedly inferior to

her own,

“As hay is to Bohea;”

as though the force of comparison could no further go. Yet it is in

his more serious and didactic poem that the melancholy friend of the

hares exclaims:--

“Now stir the fire, and close the shutters fast;

Let fall the curtain, wheel the sofa round;

And while the bubbling and loud hissing urn

Throws up a steaming column, and the cups

That cheer, but not inebriate, wait on each,

So let us welcome peaceful evening in.”

But Tea had its avowed enemies no less than its staunch friends.

Certain old fashioned physicians did not like it. Nay, they even

sneered at and denounced it. Jonas Hanway, the philanthropic but

eccentric founder of the Marine and the Magdalen Societies, more bold

than his compeers, actually rushed into print in order to inveigh

against it. But he had reason to regret his hot-headed impetuosity.

In answer to his petty attack, the beverage found a noble defender

in no less a personage than Dr. Johnson, whose defence, in point of

style, is among the best essays the great moralist ever penned. Hanway,

however, nothing daunted, resumed the attack. Having lost his temper,

he gave full scope to his prejudices, and denounced Tea as the worst

of poisons and the secondary cause of all the moral, religious, and

political evils that distracted mankind. Not only so, but he was rash

enough to attack the leviathan of literature personally. Yet he had

far better have saved his ink, for Johnson--the first time in his life

that he had retorted on an adversary--fell upon him like an avalanche.

Hanway having foolishly laid himself open to ridicule, most assuredly

the Doctor did not spare him. Such a contest, of course, could not

be regarded as equal. No possible comparison existed between the

combatants. Therefore, setting aside all the hard knocks which Johnson

administered to poor Jonas, it will be sufficient to produce one

passage in which the eminent writer declares himself “a hardened sinner

in the use of the infusion of this plant, whose tea-pot had no time

to cool, who with Tea solaced the midnight, and with Tea welcomed the

morning.” There is not the slightest exaggeration in this confession.

What is affirmed therein is attested both by Boswell and Mrs. Thrale

in their respective writings, who record that Dr. Johnson frequently

exceeded a dozen large cups at one meal.

It is alleged that the first command given by our gracious Queen upon

her accession to the Throne was “Bring me a cup of Tea and _The

Times_.” It is to be hoped that Her Majesty got the former uncoloured.

For a time it appeared that so far as one class of the community was

concerned, the use of Tea was likely to be checked by the imperious

sway of inconstant Fashion. It became the custom in the houses of

the aristocracy to supply only coffee after dinner, so that, for a

period, Tea was ostracised. Recently however, a reaction has set

in, for we find that the most agreeable meetings in “Society” are

those which assemble at “the five o’clock Tea.” Accordingly one of

the whirligigs of time has so conspired, that while the fashionable

breakfast and dinner hours are completely revolutionised, the hour for

Tea has reverted to the precise period of the day at which it used to

be taken one hundred years ago. Although noble ladies have not now

black pages to hand round the tea-cups, yet the very china used by

their great grandmothers is called into requisition simply because

of its antiquity. One circumstance calls for special notice. It is

this, that in the words of Dr. Johnston[B] “Everywhere unintoxicating

and non-narcotic beverages are in general use among tribes of every

colour, beneath every sun, and in every condition of life. The custom,

therefore, must meet some universal want of our common nature.”

[B] Chemistry of Common Life.

Philanthropists and sociologists are now fully alive to the moral

effects produced by such non-intoxicant drinks as Tea and Coffee.

Intemperance is the bane of the nation. And now that legislation has

utterly failed to restrain the evils arising therefrom, philanthropy,

full of faith in the experiment, endeavours by the establishment, in

divers quarters, of quite a different class of “Public Houses,” to

arrest an evil which is assuming the gravest character. And there can

be no doubt that if the masses could be induced to substitute the pure

beverages Tea and Coffee for the deleterious fluids they are wont to

imbibe, the country would be vastly benefited by the salutary change.

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Tea, Its Mystery and History · 第 7 / 10 章