Drinks of the World by James Mew and John Ashton

Introduction into England—Manufacture.

6044 words  |  Chapter 11

Popular among non-intoxicant drinks is the homely Ginger Beer, so dearly beloved of thirsty holiday makers and small children; dear also to the boating man in connection with good ale, as “Shandy-gaff.” And the stone bottle, in which it used generally to be encased, is familiar to every reader. We say, advisedly, _used_, because now-a-days it is also put up in glass bottles; nay, it is sold in casks, like beer, to the publicans and others. The probability is that, in the old days, its somewhat murky colour would not bear inspection through bright glass. The old ginger beer, whose flavour cannot be approached by the modern decoctions, was made of Jamaica ginger macerated in water, with the addition of lemon juice and sugar. It was allowed to ferment, and possessed decided traces of alcohol. It was made after this fashion:— Take 1 ounce of best Jamaica ginger, and crush thoroughly with a hammer or suitable crushing machine; boil gently for about an hour in about a quart of water, then add 1 lb. of best loaf sugar, and make up to a gallon with hot water; stir until all is dissolved. Add a small quantity of the soluble essence of lemon, and gum extract, the quantity to be regulated to taste of the maker. Then stir in ¼ ounce of tartaric acid, and, if required for quick fermentation, a very small quantity of yeast. The beer should fine down perfectly clear, and should then be bottled. In from one to three weeks time it is ready for drinking, and should keep good about six months. This was the old fashion—now for the new.[146] Plain Syrup, from 56° to 60° T.[147] 3 quarts Boiling Water 1 quart Oil of Lemon 24 minims Acetic Acid 4 fluid ounces Ginger Tincture (21, 22, or 23), Q.S.[148] Use 1 to 1½ ounce of the flavoured spirit to each bottle. First incorporate the lemon oil with 1 quart of the thick syrup. (If the oil contains a large proportion of insoluble matter, it may be well to use rather less than 1 quart of syrup in the first place.) Then add the boiling water, and, after that, the remaining syrup; taking care to keep the mixture constantly agitated during the process. Lastly, add the acid, and ginger tincture according to taste, or the requirements of the public analyst. By adding boiling _syrup_ instead of boiling water to the mixture of plain syrup and oil of lemon, and subsequently adding the required quantity of cold water, the whole operation will be brought more thoroughly under control, and a larger proportion of oil may be employed without waste. With some samples of the oil, it may be necessary to heat a larger portion of the syrup; but the oil should always be mixed with _cold_, _thick_ syrup in the first place, unless a perfectly _close_, _air-tight vessel_ is provided for mixing; in this case, hot, thick syrup may be poured on the oil, cold water being subsequently added to give the requisite density. When it is required to incorporate a maximum quantity of lemon oil with the syrup, it should first be whisked into the _whole_ of the thick syrup _cold_; the flavoured syrup should then be carefully heated by means of a steam jacket, or other convenient arrangement, until the suspended oil is reduced to a state of solution. The syrup will then be transparent. Let it be cooled again as quickly as possible. _Gingerade._ Plain Syrup, 42° T.[149] 1 gallon Ginger Tincture (No. 21 or 22) 4 fluid ounces Acetic Acid 4 ” Bitter Orange Tincture, Q.S. Use 1 to 1½ ounce of flavoured syrup to each bottle. Ginger Ale is a beverage supposed to beguile the artless teetotaller into an idea that he is doing something naughty, or at all events, placing himself on the very verge of tampering with the accursed thing “Beer.” Hence its name, but what a difference in the two drinks! Here are two receipts for making _Ginger Ale._ Plain Syrup, 42° T. 1 gallon Comp. Ginger Tincture (No. 23) 4 fluid ounces Acetic Acid 4 ” Sugar Colouring ½ ” Or Plain Syrup, 42° T. 1 gallon Ginger Tincture (No. 21 or 22) 4 fluid ounces Capsicum Tincture (No. 24) 1 ” Sugar Colouring ½ ” Use 1 to 1½ ounce of flavoured syrup to each bottle. If desired, the _bouquet_ may be enriched by the use of one or more of the following ingredients:— Essence of Vanilla 3 drams (180 minims) per gallon Butyric Ether 4 minims ” Otto of Roses ⅓ ” ” Half an ounce of Spanish liquorice to the gallon will considerably improve the flavour. _Lemonade._ Plain Syrup, 42° T. 1 gallon Lemon Tincture (No. 19) 4 fluid ounces Acetic Acid 4 to 5 ” Use 1½ ounce of flavoured syrup to each bottle. When lemonade is required specially for medicinal purposes, and is sold expressly as a genuine fruit preparation, citric acid should be employed instead of acetic. In that case dissolve 1 lb. of citric acid in a pint of boiling water, and use 4 fluid ounces of the clear solution to each gallon of syrup. Some manufacturers have attained a high reputation for their lemonade by adding a small quantity of _Neroli_[150] to the ordinary syrup. This, if judiciously used, will doubtless be deemed an improvement by connoisseurs generally, provided they are kept in ignorance of the substance employed; but a still greater improvement is produced by adding about 1 fluid ounce of good _orange flower water_ to each gallon of syrup. In the next beverage we are perilously tempting the fiend Alcohol, although it ranks as a Temperance drink. _Champagne Cyder._ Plain Syrup, 42° T. 1 gallon Butyrate of Ethyl[151] 4 minims Acetate of Amyl[152] 4 ” Nitrate of Amyl 2 ” Acetic Acid 4 or 5 fluid ounces Sugar Colouring 1 ” Use 1 to 1½ fluid ounces of this syrup to each bottle. But here is a direction which plainly shows the cloven hoof. “The Ethyl and Amyl compounds are conveniently used by mixing them separately in the first place with nine times their bulk of Alcohol, or strong rectified spirit, adding these mixtures to the Acetic Acid, and this in turn to the syrup.” At every turn, in all these drinks, are chemicals used. Do you want the flavour of the luscious Jargonelle pear? hey, presto! There it is for you in a spirituous solution of Acetate of Amyl, made by distilling potato spirit with Oil of Vitrol and Acetate of Potash, at least this gives a fine fruity flavour, but to bring out the true Jargonelle taste it must be mixed with six times its bulk of spirits of wine (_Mem. for Teetotallers_). The taste of apples can be counterfeited by mixing Amylic Ether (potato ether) and Valerianic Acid, which latter is made by substituting Bichromate of Potash for Acetate of Potash, and largely added Alcohol. The delicious aroma of the Pine-apple is made from Butyric Acid, mixed with ordinary ether, and dissolved in Alcohol. Indeed with compounds of the Ethyls, Methyls, and Amyls, all the bouquets contained in wines or spirits can be obtained.[153] Does your chemical compound look flat and dull when poured out? lo! you can produce a “head,” or froth, made out of isinglass, gum arabic, gelatine, white of egg, Irish moss, or soapwort. The latter gives an excellent head; but as these frothing mixtures detract from the keeping of the chemical drink, yet another chemical has to be used as an antiseptic, and Salicylic Acid, made from Carbolic Acid, is recommended. Do you want to colour your decoctions? There is a wide range of tints for you to choose from, from the harmless burnt sugar to the Acetate of Rosaniline, or Aniline Magenta, of which 1/30th of a grain will colour a bottleful, a beautiful red. For the fruit syrups, fruits are very often used, but of course not necessarily. Even milk is not sacred from the chemist. Here are two recipes for making Cream Syrup:— No. 1. Fresh Cream ½ pint Fresh Milk ½ ” Powdered Sugar 1 pound Another formula:— No. 2. Oil of Sweet Almonds 2 ounces Powdered Gum Arabic 2 ” Water 4 ” Make an emulsion, and add simple syrup to make up 2 pints, and there you are, thoroughly independent of the cow! In these syrupy mixtures the Americans run riot, and a few years since many shops, notably druggists, sold strange and curious frothing mixtures; but there was no call for them in the winter, and they died out as suddenly as they were introduced. The following is a fair list of syrups, some of which, however, are decidedly exciseable. Ambrosia, Apple, Apricot, Banana, Blackberry, Brandy, Capillaire, Cherry, Chocolate, Citron, Clove, Coffee, Cream, Curaçoa, Currant (black or red), Ginger, Grape, Groseille, Gum, Lemon, Limes, Mulberry, Nectar, Nectarine, Noyeau, Orange (bitter), Orange (sweet), Orange (Tangerine), Orgeat, Peach, Pear, Peppermint, Pine-apple, Plum, Quince, Raspberry, Roses, Sarsaparilla, Sherbet, Strawberry, Vanilla, Violets. And here is a list of Non-Alcoholic Cordials and Liqueurs (non-exciseable), it is said; but if so, they must be fearfully and wonderfully made. Anisette, Bitters, Caraway, Cherry Brandy, Clove, Curaçoa, Elderette, Fettle, Ginger Brandy, Ginger Cordial, Ginger Gin, Ginger Punch, Gingerette, Lemon Punch, Lime Fruit, Nectar Punch, Noyeau, Orange Bitters, Orange Gin, Peppermint, Pepper Punch, Pick-me-up, Raspberry, Raspberry Punch, Rum Punch, Rum Shrub, Sarsaparilla, Shrub, Spiced Ale, Strawberry, Tangerine, Tonic, Winter Punch. But enough of these chemical concoctions of man; let us go to Nature, and see what she turns out of her laboratory. Most marvellous combinations of Minerals, Acids, Gases, and Water. Among the Minerals may be named Alumina, Arsenic, Barium, Boron, Bromine, Cæsium, Calcium, Copper, Fluorine, Iodine, Iron, Lithium, Magnesium, Manganese, Phosphorus, Potassium, Rubidium, Silicon, Sodium, Strontium, Sulphur, Zinc, etc. And of Gases we have Ammonia, Carbonic Acid, Hydrogen, Hydro-Sulphuric, Nitrogen, and Oxygen. These materials are mixed in very varying amounts, and from very valuable medical agencies, from the purgative Friedrichshall, to the nauseous Harrogate. But all are not nasty: some are just sufficiently alkaline to be tasty, and, having a briskness imparted to them either naturally, or otherwise, by carbonic acid, make pleasant drinks for table. These simple waters are abundant on the Continent. In Germany we have the well-known Apollinaris, Selters, Landskro, Brückenau, Roisdorf, Gieshübel, and Heppingen, whilst in France there are those of St. Galmier, Chateldon, and Pougues, besides some in Italy and many in America. These, especially the medical waters, are imported into England; but mineral waters are largely manufactured. By mineral waters I do not mean the aërated waters we drink under the names of Soda, and Seltzer, but the medicinal waters. The effervescing, or aërated waters, which are now so much used all over the civilized world, were first made on a large commercial scale by the firm of J. Schweppe, of Geneva (a name very well known in England, in connection with the manufacture), in 1789; and ten years afterwards, his partner, Mr. N. Paul (whose name yet survives in the firm Paul & Burrows, St. George’s Road, S.E.), established an Aërated Water Factory in England. It is somewhat curious how the names last in this trade, for in 1799 a Mr. Thwaites established a factory in Dublin, and the firm still remains as A. & R. Thwaites & Co. Since its introduction, aërated water has much improved, especially the universal soda water, which is simply ordinary water charged with carbonic acid gas. Vastly improved machinery has been introduced, cleanliness and purity of materials are specially looked after, and the bottles and vessels for holding it wonderfully improved. We have not, in England, taken so kindly to the syphon as they have abroad; but the cork in the bottle has been nearly entirely done away with, and we are no longer compelled to pay for, if we could not drink, the large bottle, which at one time bid fair to be perennial; but which has almost succumbed to its younger brother the “Small” Soda. Year by year, through competition and vastly increased consumption, aërated waters are getting cheaper, and consequently more used. The ordinary soda water of commerce contains no soda,—it is made by the absorption, under pressure, of carbonic acid gas, which is generally obtained from chalk or whitening, and sulphuric acid, which makes as good a gas for commercial purposes as if it were produced from the purest Carrara marble. The number of chemical teetotal drinks is legion. They are all calculated according to their concocter’s reports, to make the drinker healthier and wiser; nay, even to provide him with extra brain power, as did the vaunted Zoedone, which contained phosphates and iron. They have their little day, and another nostrum takes their place. It has, hitherto, always been so, and probably will continue, only intensified, to the end of time. J. A. [Illustration] [Illustration] MILK. First Food of all Mammals—Skim and Butter Milk—Chemicals used in its Preservation—Condensed Milk—Syllabubs—Koumiss—Its Early Use—When first utilized in Medical Treatment—Koumiss from Cows’ Milk—Methods of Manufacture—Intoxicating Drinks made from Milk. Milk is the first liquid food taken by man, in common with all mammals, after his birth; and this liquid is so happily ordered, as to contain all the elements of food necessary for him, at this period of his existence. The new-born mammal naturally, and directly after its birth, seeks the fountain of its nourishment, and even that most helpless of all created beings, a baby, is soon taught where to seek its food. But we have to consider milk as a beverage, more than as a food, and, as a drink, it is comparatively a failure, as to most people it is indigestible, if taken in any quantity. It may, however, be taken with comparative impunity as skim milk, _i.e._ when deprived to a very large extent of its fat, and of a hot day, for a perfect thirst quencher, let us commend slightly acidulated butter milk. Milk has very great disadvantages as a beverage: first, that it will not keep good any time, unless chemicalized by salicylic acid, borax, liquor potassæ, or some other bedevilment, except as condensed milk, which is milk with much of its water evaporated, and sugar added. This, however good it may be as a substitute for fresh cow’s milk, where such is not attainable, can hardly be called a drink. Secondly, milk, in common with all fatty animal substances, has a tendency to absorb any odour which may come in contact with it, and is a ready vehicle for the seeds of disease, especially the microbes of fever or cholera. It is singular that milk has not been made into more _drinks_. Of modern times we have soda and milk, or aërated milk and water, and in the pastoral times of the last century, the times of Corydon and Phyllis, Chloe and Strephon, it was _de rigueur_ to indulge in “syllabubs” whenever the nearest approach to rurality, in the shape of a grass field, and a cow, presented itself. Whoever tastes a syllabub now? Ask fifty people—forty-nine at least, will answer that they have never partaken of the delicacy, and the vast majority will be totally ignorant even of its composition. It was made of milk, milked from the cow into a bowl containing mashed fruit, such as gooseberries, and sugar, or else, wine or beer. The great thing was to make it froth, as we may see in the following recipe for an Ale Syllabub, which our forefathers considered as the _ne plus ultra_ of a syllabub. “No Syllabubs made at the milking pail, But what are composed of a pot of good ale.” “Place in a large bowl, a quart of strong ale or beer, grate into this a little nutmeg, and sweeten with sugar: milk the cow rapidly into the bowl, forcing the milk as strongly as possible into the ale, and against the sides of the vessel, to raise a good froth. Let it stand an hour, and it will be fit for use. The proportion of milk, or of sugar, will depend upon the taste of the drinker, who will, after a trial or two, be able to make a delightful beverage. Cider may be used instead of malt liquor for those who object to the alcoholic strength of the ale, or a bottle of wine.” The Dutch, who are naturally a pastoral people, make a syllabub of milk, sugar, etc., which they call _Slemp_; but this rustic delicacy has died out owing to the universal use of tea and coffee. Curds and whey used to be much drank, and white wine whey is not to be despised when one has a very heavy cold—but, of course, it can only be drank by the wicked and intemperate; good people confining themselves to hot milk, or treacle posset, either of which served the purpose nearly as well. So, also, the unregenerate have the solace of rum and milk in the early morning. We have now exhausted all the milk drinks we know of, except “Koumiss,” which, although as old as the hills, is of very modern introduction into civilization, and comes to us heralded by a fanfare of medical trumpets as a _panacea_ for many evils which the human body has to bear, especially consumption; but Koumiss is decidedly alcoholic. [Illustration] As a drink made from mare’s milk, it has been known for centuries to the Tartars, Khurgese, and Calmucks of the Russian Steppes, and Central and South Western Asia. Perhaps the first mention of it may be found in the _Ipatof Annals_, published at St. Petersburg, 1871. “In 1182, Prince Igor Seversky was taken prisoner by the Polovtsky, and the captors got so drunk upon Koumiss that they allowed their prisoner to escape.” The old monk and traveller Gulielmus de Rubruquis, who travelled in Tartary in the middle of the thirteenth century, says: “The same evening, the guide who had conducted us, gave us some _Cosmos_. After I had drunk thereof, I sweat most extremely from the dread and novelty, because I never drank of it before. Notwithstanding I thought it very savoury as indeed it was.” And in another place, he thus refers to it: “Then they taste it, and being pretty sharp, they drink it; for it biteth a man’s tongue like wine of _raspes_,[154] when it is drunk. After a man has taken a draught thereof, it leaveth behind it a taste like that of almond milk, and maketh one’s inside feel very comfortable; and it also intoxicateth weak heads.” Ser Marco Polo speaks of it. “Their drink is mare’s milk, prepared in such a way, you would take it for a white wine; and a right good drink it is, called by them _Kemiz_.” It remained as a traveller’s curiosity until 1784, when Dr. John Grieve, a surgeon, one of the many Scotchmen who have from time to time entered the Russian service, wrote to the Royal Society of Edinburgh (who published his communication in their “Transactions,” Vol. I., 1788). “An account of the Method of making a Wine, called by the Tartars Koumiss, with observations on its use in Medicine,” and, especially, he thought that, “with the superaddition of a fermented spirit, it might be of essential service in all those disorders where the body is defective either in nourishment or strength.” And he further proved the benefit of the milk-wine on three patients, two consumptive, and one syphilitic, sending them to the Steppes among the Tartars, whence they returned stout, and in perfect health. From time to time, until the middle of this century, phthisical patients were sent to Tartary to undergo this milk cure; but life among these nomad tribes, with its filth and privations, was hardly congenial to a sick man, so that although some returned cured, others came back only to die. But, in 1858, Dr. Postnikof started an establishment for the cure of diseases by fermented mare’s milk, at Samàra, in Eastern Russia, and a similar establishment, about forty-five miles distant, was started by the late Dr. Tchembulatof, both of which have been extremely well patronised, as their places were well ordered, and the Koumiss was prepared in a cleanly manner. So successful were they, that the Russian Government, in 1870, started a place of their own for the cure of sick soldiers belonging to the Kazan district. Here are beds for 100 soldiers and 20 officers. The curative effect of fermented mare’s milk set people thinking whether the milk of cows, which is much more easy to procure, would not answer the same purpose. It was tried, and a new drink was given to the civilized world, as also a new name, which was coined expressly for it—GALAZYENE, from γάλα, milk, and ζῦμη, a ferment. It can be obtained in London from the large dairies. Dr. Polubensky gives the following formula for fermenting cow’s milk. “An oak churn, such as is used for churning butter, has a bottle of fermented cow’s or mare’s milk, five days old, poured into it in the morning. A tumbler and a half of warm milk (of a temperature of about 90° Fahr.), in which half an ounce of cane, still better milk, sugar has been dissolved, and a bottle of skimmed cow’s milk, are then added. “The addition of the sugar is made for the purpose of remedying the small amount of lactine in cow’s milk; the water is added to make the milk, which is rich in casein, thinner, and thus to facilitate its agitation and emulsion. Skim milk is used because it contains less fat, an excess of which interferes with fermentation. The mixture is then beaten up during half an hour, to prevent the curdling of the casein, and is then laid aside for three hours. (This is effected at an ordinary room temperature of 60° Fahr.) “After the lapse of three hours, when the surface of the mixture is covered with a film (of casein and fat in a non-emulsioned condition), it is again agitated for half an hour, and another bottle of skim milk—with or without warm water, according to the thickness of the milk—is added; the whole mass is again churned for an hour and a half, or longer, until the casein is well divided, and small bubbles appear on the surface of the fluid. Then the mixture, having stood for half an hour, has a fresh bottle of milk added to it, and the stirring is again renewed, with short intervals, until the Koumiss is ready, which usually happens by 10 o’clock p.m., if its preparation was commenced at 8 a.m. “The approaching completion of the Koumiss is known by a thick froth, which sometimes rises very high, forming on its surface; while the full completion of fermentation is recognised by a falling of the froth, and by certain signs detectable by the ear and hand; the process of churning becomes easier, and the splash of the drops during agitation presents a clearer and more metallic sound. The Koumiss is then poured into Champagne bottles, well corked, and left for the night at a room temperature of from 60° to 70° Fahr. Towards morning, the Koumiss is quite fit for use. Left in bottle till the next day, it becomes stronger, but is still drinkable; while, if placed in a cold room, it may be used even on the fifth day. “In order that the preparation of Koumiss may be carried on successfully, it will be necessary to put aside two bottles of the Koumiss first prepared, and to keep them for three or four days, so as always to have a bottle of four days old Koumiss in store for fermenting new portions of milk, and of replacing the used bottles by new ones.” This seems to be rather a long method of making Koumiss, compared to that given by Dr. Wolff of Philadelphia, which is excessively simple. “Take of grape sugar ½ oz.; dissolve in 4 ozs. of water. In about 2 ozs. of milk dissolve 20 grains of compressed yeast, or else well washed and pressed out brewer’s yeast. Mix the two in a quart Champagne bottle, which is to be filled with good cow’s milk to within two inches of the top; cork well, and secure the cork with string or wire, and place in an ice chest or cellar at a temperature of 50° Fahr. or less, and agitate three times a day. At the expiration of three or four days, at the latest, the Koumiss is ready for use, and ought not then to be kept longer than four or five days. It should be drawn with a Champagne syphon tap, so that the carbonic acid may be retained, and the contents will not entirely escape on opening the bottle.” Be wary in opening a bottle of Koumiss, or you may be thoroughly drenched, and have nothing left to drink, for it generates a large quantity of carbonic acid gas, so much so, indeed, that extra thick bottles should be used. There is an interesting speculation abroad, that the milk which Jael gave Sisera was fermented, and highly intoxicating, which rendered him in a condition favourable for her purpose. The Usbecks, Mongols, Kalmucks, and other Tartars not only make milk into Koumiss, but distil a very strong spirit from it, which they call _araka_, conjectured by some, from its high antiquity, to be the true source whence the Indian _Arrack_ derives its name. The distillation is generally effected by means of two earthen pots closely stopped, from which the liquor slowly runs through a small wooden pipe into a receiver, which is usually covered with a coating of wet clay. The spirit, at first, is weak, but after two or three times distilling, it becomes exceedingly intoxicating. Dr. Edward Clarke, in his _Travels in Russia, Turkey, and Asia_, saw this process performed by means of a still constructed of mud, or very coarse clay, having for the neck of the retort a piece of cane. J. A. [Illustration] [Illustration] ADDITIONAL DRINKS. Jewish Prayers respecting various Drinks—Women’s Tears—Dew—Oil—Sea Water—Blood—Vegetable Water—Ganges Water—Vinegar—Ptisana—Toast Water—Bragget—Ballston Water—Warm Water—Asses’ Milk—Ghee—Milk Beer—Kumyss—Syra—Lamb Wine—Rice Wine—Garapa—Fenkål—Brandy and Port—Methylated Spirit. In the Jewish prayers there is an especial, exclusive and extensive blessing upon wine, which runs in the following wise:— “Blessed art thou, O Lord our God, universal King, for the vine, and for the fruit of the vine, and for the produce of the field, and for the land of delight and goodness and amplitude which Thou hast been pleased to give as an inheritance to thy people Israel, to eat of its fruit, and to be satisfied with its goodness.” Then follow petitions for the divine mercy upon those who say the blessing, upon Israel, God’s people, and upon God’s city, Jerusalem, and upon Zion, the dwelling-place of His glory, and upon His altar, and upon His temple. The blessing concludes with a prayer for speedy transportation into the holy city: “Bring us up into the midst thereof eftsoons, even in these present days, that we may bless Thee in purity and holiness. For Thou art good, and the Giver of good to all. Blessed art Thou, O Lord, for the land and for the fruit of the vine.” This beautiful prayer,[155] of which only the roughest sketch has been given here, has been said by pious Hebrews at every meal in which wine has been drunk from time immemorial. But upon wine alone has this honour been conferred. Those who drink _Shecar_, or water, or any other beverage except wine, say before their draught thus much only: “Blessed art Thou, O Lord our God, universal King, by whose word all things were made;” and after it, “Blessed art Thou, O Lord our God, universal King, the Creator of many souls, and their needs, for all which Thou hast created, to keep alive the soul of every living thing. Blessed art Thou who livest everlastingly.” But these two prayers have no especial and necessary relation to drinks. They are also used where aught is eaten which has not grown originally and directly out of the earth, as, for example, the flesh of some beasts, and birds, and fishes, and cheese, milk, butter, and honey. In the present work particular attention has been given, in the case of alcoholic drinks, to wines, spirits, liqueurs, and beers, and in the case of non-alcoholic, to mineral waters, tea, coffee, and other beverages usually considered non-intoxicant; but under both these widely extended categories a large number of drinks must enter of which no mention whatever has been made in the preceding pages. It remains for us, therefore, to consider in the present chapter the most interesting and important of these drinks which have been hitherto excluded. Of the curious and, in many cases, repulsive liquids which have from time to time been taken, either to assuage the pangs of human thirst, or to gratify the taste of the human palate in health or in disease, the reader who has not devoted some little time and attention to the investigation of this subject will probably have but a very faint conception. To go no farther back on the pathway of time than to the age of John Taylor, the water poet, we find so strange a drink as women’s tears. But at a date far earlier than that of the water poet, the date of the Babylonian Talmud, in _Machshirin_, vi. 64, there are seven liquids comprehended under the generic term _drink_ (Lev. xi. 34, and therefore liable to ceremonial defilement), dew, water, wine, oil, blood, milk, and honey. Upon every one of these seven liquids something curious and interesting might be written. About these drinks a question arises in the Talmud, whether under water are included such beverages as mulberry water, pomegranate water, and other waters of fruits which have a _shem livoui_, or compound name. Rambam the great Eagle, more commonly known as Maimonides, seems to exclude these drinks from the general category. By honey is to be understood the honey of bees; the honey of hornets is not to be numbered in the list. In the _Tosephoth_ of _Shabbath_ it is asked, How do we know that blood is a drink? Because it is said (Num. xxiii. 24), And drink the blood of the slain. How do we know that wine is a drink? Because it is said (Deut. xxxii. 14), And thou didst drink the pure blood of the grape. How do we know that honey is a drink? Because it is said (Deut. xxxii. 13), But He made him to suck honey out of the rock. How do we know that oil is a drink? Because it is said (Isa. xxv. 6), A feast of fat things. How do we know that milk is a drink? Because it is said (Judges iv. 19), And she opened a bottle of milk and gave him drink. How do we know that dew is a drink? Because it is said (Judges vi. 38), And wringed the dew out of the fleece, a bowl full of water. There is a curious addition, reminding us of Taylor, the water poet. How do we know that the tears of the eye are a drink? Because it is said (Ps. lxxx. 5), And givest them tears to drink in great measure. How do we know that the water of the nose is a drink? Because—but the reader has had probably enough of the Rabbinical lucubrations. A chapter of this book might, were not space a consideration, be devoted to water, which Thales[156] declared to be the first principle of things, and, according to Seneca,[157] _valentissimum elementum_. Iced, it was inveighed[158] against by the Stoic philosopher, as injurious to the stomach. The desire for it was said to proceed from a pampered appetite. Pliny[159] speaks of a wine made from sea water, but considers it, with Celsus, a bad stomachic. In later times sea water has been converted into fresh. Bory de St. Vincent,[160] in his _Essais sur les Isles Fortunées_, an entertaining description of the archipelago of the Canaries, says that in Fer, one of the Canary Islands, a nearly total privation of running water was compensated by an extraordinary tree. Bacon (_Nov. Scient. Org._, 412), the Father Taillandier (_Lettr. Edit._, vii., 280), Corneille (_Grand Dict._, under _Fer_) may be consulted about this tree, called the holy one. Gonzalez d’Oviedo (ii., 9) says it distils water through its trunk, branches, and leaves, which resemble so many fountains. The “exaggerator Jakson,” says Bory de St. Vincent, being at Fer in 1618, saw this tree dried up during the day, but at night yielding enough water to supply the thirst of 8,000 inhabitants and 100,000 other animals. According to this authority, it was distributed from time immemorial all over the island by pipes of lead. It is nothing to “Jakson” that lead was not known from time immemorial. Viana (_Cant._, i.) speaks of the sacred tree as a sort of celestial pump.[161] Another author says the holy tree was called _Garoe_, and that its fruit resembled an acorn, that its leaves were evergreen, and like those of a laurel. During an east wind the water harvest was the most abundant. This celebrated vegetable product was unfortunately destroyed by a hurricane in 1625. But even about this date authors disagree. While Nunez de la Pena is an authority for that given, Nieremberg assures us the catastrophe occurred in 1629. Another date mentioned is 1612. The view of Bory de St. Vincent is that this holy tree was nothing more than the _Laurus Indica_ of Linnæus, which is indigenous to the mountain summits of the Canary Islands. His concluding remark is pregnant with common sense: _Si les auteurs que nous ont parlé du Garoé ont dit qu’il était seul de son espèce dans l’île, c’est qu’ils n’étaient pas botanistes, et qu’ils n’avaient pas réfléchi que cet arbre ayant un fruit, devait se reproduire, comme tous les autres végétaux._ The water of rivers is often clarified in a peculiar manner before drinking. For instance, that of the Ganges is said to be improved by rubbing certain nuts on the edges of the vessel in which it is kept,[162] though how this may be it is as difficult to understand, as how the turtle is affected by a touch of his carapace, or the Dean and Chapter—to borrow Sydney Smith’s illustration—of St. Paul’s by stroking the cupola of that cathedral. The Nile water is also said to be purified by treating the vessel which holds it in a similar manner to that which holds the water of the Ganges, with bitter almonds. The bitter waters of Marah were made sweet in a far different fashion. The _Melo-cacti_ of South America have earned for themselves the name of “springs of the desert,” owing to their liquor-preserving properties. An ingenious drink is that of the natives of Siberia, a drink prepared of an intoxicating mushroom,[163] in a peculiar and economical manner, by natural distillation. Vinegar appears as a beverage in a few countries only, and then for special purposes. The Roman soldiers received it as a refreshing drink on their marches, and even in the time of Constantine their rations included vinegar on one day and wine on the other. After all, this vinegar may have been nothing more than what many of us drink at present under the title of wine. That “excellent claret,” for instance, “fit for any gentleman’s table,” which may be had at 1_s._ 6_d._ a bottle, may be very like the vinegar of the Roman soldier. Roman reapers used it mixed with water, we are told by Theocritus (Idyl x.), and before that time Ruth was directed to dip her morsel in the vinegar when she gleaned in the field of Boaz. _Ptisana_, mentioned by Celsus (iii., 7), appears to have been a mixture of rice or barley water and vinegar. Toast-water is a drink which may be held by some unworthy of mention, but they may change their minds after reading what Mr. James Sedgwick, apothecary at Stratford-le-Bow, had to say on this subject in the year