We would say of coffee-making in England, as Hamlet did of acting, "Oh,
reform it altogether." Accordingly, the publication of a pleasant trifle,
under the above name, is not ill-timed. Like all our modern farces, it is
from the French, and as the translator informs us, the editor of the
original is "of the _Café de Foi_, at Paris."
It opens with the _History of Coffee_, from its discovery by a monk
in the 17th century, to the establishment of _cafés_ in Paris, of
which we have a brief notice, with additions by the translator.
Next is "the French method of making coffee, with the roasting, grinding,
and infusion processes"; and an interesting chapter on "coffee in the
East." Under the "medicinal effects" we have the following, which is full
of the _gaiete de coeur_ of French writing:--
_Influence of Coffee upon the Spirits_. If coffee had been known
among the Greeks and Romans, Homer would have taken his lyre to celebrate
its virtues; Horace and Juvenal would have immortalized it in their
verses; Diogenes would not have concealed his ill-humour in a tub, but
would have drunk of this divine liquid, and have directly found the honest
man he sought for; it would have made Heraclitus merry; and with what odes
would it have inspired the muse of Anacreon!
In short, who can enumerate the wonderful effects of coffee!
Seest thou that morose figure, that pale complexion, those deadened eyes,
and faded lips? It is a lamentable fit of spleen. The whole faculty have
been sent for, but their art is unavailing. She is given over. Happily one
of her friends counsels her against despair, prescribes a few cups of
Moka, and the dying patient, being restored to health, concludes with
anathematizing the faculty, who would thus have sacrificed her life.
The complexion of this young girl was, as the poets would say, of lilies
and roses; never was there a form more celestial, or one more gifted with
life and vigour.
Arrived at this stage, so fatal to the existence of females, the young
girl sickened, lost her colour, and those cheeks, but yesterday so
brilliant, were dull and heavy. "Travelling," said one; "a husband," said
another; "coffee, coffee," replied a doctor. Coffee flowed in abundance,
and then the drooping flower revived, and flourished again.
O! all ye who have essayed at rhyme, say if you have not often derived
your happiest thoughts from this inspiring beverage. Delille has some
beautiful lines, and Berchoux, in his poem of _Gastronomie_, has a
pompous eulogium on its virtues.
Coffee occupies a grand place in the life and pursuits of the
_gastronomer_. Oft-times on leaving table his head aches and becomes
heavy; he rises with pain; the savoury smells of viands, the flame of
wax-lights, and the imperceptible gases which escape from innumerable
wines and liqueurs, have produced around him a kind of mist or shade,
equal to what the poet calls darkness visible. Coffee is quickly brought;
our _gastronomer_ inhales the aroma, sips drop by drop this ambrosian
beverage, and his head already lightened, he walks with his accustomed
vigour. What gaiety smiles in his countenance! the liveliest sallies of
wit flow unnumbered from his lips; he is another being--a new man; but
coffee alone has produced this regeneration. The late Doctor Gastaldi, who
was an excellent table companion, used to say that he should have died ten
times of indigestion if he had not accustomed himself to take coffee after
dinner.
Would you then sleep tranquilly after your meal, and never fear those
dreams which are so fatal to _gourmands_, quaff your coffee; it will
fall like dew upon your lips, and sweetly temper with all those juices
which oppress your exhausted stomach. If you can, drink your coffee
without sugar, for then it preserves its natural flavour, and is much more
efficacious than when mixed with other ingredients. Laugh at the doctors
who tell you that hot coffee irritates the stomach and injures the nerves;
tell them that Voltaire, Fontenelle, Stacey, and Fourcroy, who were great
coffee-drinkers, lived to a good old age.
The _brochure_, for such it is, is wound up with "the natural history
of coffee," and an appendix of "English receipts," &c.
* * * * *