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CORNELL
UNIVERSITY
LIBRARY

 

THIS BOOK IS ONE OF A
COLLECTION MADE BY
BENNO. LOEWY
1854-1919

AND BEQUEATHED TO
CORNELL UNIVERSITY
; _ ary
TX637 .B85 1854

“TWAT

24

olin
PHYSIOLOGY .OF TASTE;

OR,

TRANSCENDENTAL GASTRONOMY.
THE

PHYSIOLOGY OF TASTE;

oR,

TRANSCENDENTAL GASTRONOMY.

ILLUSTRATED

BY ANECDOTES OF DISTINGUISHED ARTISTS AND
STATESMEN OF BOTH CONTINENTS.

BY

BRILLAT SAVARIN.

TRANSLATED FROM THE LAST PARIS EDITION,
BY

FAYETTE ROBINSON.

 

x

PHILADELPHIA:
LINDSAY & BLAKISTON.
1854.
Entered, according to Act of Congress, inathe year 1853, by
LINDSAY & BLAKISTON,

In the Clerk’s Office of the District Court for the Eastern District of
Pennsylvania.
CONTENTS.

—+—
PAGE

Apnorisms of the Professor to serve as Prolegomena to
his work, and Eternal basis of the Science, 25

Diatogus, between the Author and his Friend, 28

Biocraruy, - - - - 35

Preracs, - - - - = 39

MEDITATION I.

Tux SENsEs, - - - . 46
Number of the Senses, - - - - - 46
Action of the Senses, - - - - - 47
Perfectness of the Senses, = - - - - - 49
Powers of the Taste, - - - - - 53
Object of the Action of the Senses, - - 53

MEDITATION II.

Taste, - - =. ge 4S 56
Definition of Taste, - - - - 56
Mechanism of Taste, - - - - 58
Sensation of Taste, - - - 60
Flavors, - - - 61
Influence of Smelling on the Taste, - - 62
Analyses of the Sensation of Taste, - 64
Order of the Impressions of Taste, | - - 66

. - - 67

Enjoyments due to the Taste,
vi CONTENTS.

Taste,
Supremacy of Man, - - -
Method of the Author, - -— =
MEDITATION III.
GasTRONOMY, t> We HS
Origin of Sciences, - -

_Origin of Gastronomy, - oe
‘Definition of Gastronomy, - -

i Different objects of Gastronomy, -

, Utility of Gastronomical Knowledge,
Influence of Gastronomy on Business,
Gastronomical Academy, - - ~ -

MEDITATION IV.

APPETITE, = - 7

Definition of Appetite, a

Anecdote, - ~ ‘ 3
Great Appetites, - 2 es

MEDITATION V.

Foop 1n Gerus—Section First, - -

Definitions, - = - é
Analyses, : -
Osmazome, - - - -

Principle of Aliments, -
Vegetable Kingdom, - -
Difference between Fat and Lean,
Individual Instance, - 7

MEDITATION VI.

Foop in Gerus—Section Second, -
Specialities,  - - ee
I. Pot-au-feu, Potage, etc, -

PAGE

68
71

74
74
75
76
78
79
80
81

83
83
84
87

91
91
91
92
94
95
98
98

101
101
102
CONTENTS.

Foop 1x Gerus—Section Second,

TI. Bouilli, - -

III. Fowls, - - - -

IV. The Turkey, - 5
Dindoniphiles, - - - - =
Financial Influence of the Turkey,
Exploit of the Professor, -

V. Game, i - - -

VI. Fish, -  -
Anecdote, - - -
Muria—Garum, - - - -
Philosophical Reflection, - -

VII. Truffles, - - - -
Erratic Virtue of Truffles, - -
Are Truffles Indigestible,

VIII. Sugar, - - -
Indigenous Sugar, -

Uses of Sugur, - +
IX. Origin of Coffee, - -
Different Modes of preparing Coffee,

Effects of Coffee, - - -
X. Chocolate—its origin, -

Properties of Chocolate, - - -

True Method of preparing Chocolate,

MEDITATION VII.

\ Tuzory or Fryive, - -
Allocution, - - 5 zs:
I. Chemistry, - = s =
II, Application, - eee

MEDITATION VIII.

On Tuirst, SO) og 8 2
Varieties of Thirst, - - - =

vil

PAGE

103
104
105
107
107
108
115
118
120
121
124
124
125
128
131
132
134
136
138
139
142
145
149

151
152
153
154

157
157
ait CONTENTS.

On Turrst,

Causes of Thirst, - - el Atego Sa = te
Example, - - -
MEDITATION IX.

On Drinks, - o Bs
Water, - - - = = = =
Quick effect of Drinks, - A - - -

' Strong Drinks, - ee ee
MEDITATION X.
¢ Aw Episopz on THE Enp oF THE WORLD, - -
MEDITATION XI.

JOn Gouranpisz, - ee
Definitions, - = z = z
Advantages of Gourmandise, - - = - <
Sequel, - - 2 2 - «
Power of Gourmandise, - Sf tem cM cs
A Lady Gourmand, a Be OH: Bo .&
Anecdote, - - - - = S

SF Are Women Gourmands? ee os & z

The effects of Gourmandise of Sociability, -
Influence of Gourmandise on Conjugal Happiness,
Note of a Patriot Gastronomer, - - -

MEDITATION XII.

GouRMANDS, = s S %
-~€>.All who wish to be are not Gourmands, - -

Napoleon, eet
Gourmands by Destiny, ee

Gourmands by Profession, - - ~ - -
Financiers, - < = * 2

PAGE

160
161

165
165
165
167

169

172
172
173
174
175
177
178
178
179
179
181

182
182
182
183
187
187
CONTENTS. ae

 

PAGE
GourMANDs,
Physicians, - - + + - = © = 188
Objurgation, - - = = = *#© = = 189
Men of Letters, - - - - - - - 191
Devotees, - - - : - - - - 192
Chevaliers and Abbés, - + - - - 193
npLongevity of Gourmands, - 5 2 = = 194
MEDITATION XII.
ASTRONOMICAL TEsTs, - - - - - 197
First Series—Income of 5,000 francs, : - 199
Second Series—Income of 15,000 francs, - - 199
Third Series—Income of 30,000 francs, or more, 200
MEDITATION XIV.
On tHE PLEASURES OF THE TABLE, - - - 201
; Origin of the Pleasures of the Table, - 202
Difference between the Pleasures of Hating and the Plea-
sures of the Table, - - - - 202
Effects, - - - - - 203
Accessories, - - - - - - - 204
The 18th and 19th Century, - 5 = = 205
@ Summary, - - - - - + = - 207
MEDITATION XV.
ae DE CHAssE, - = « &» = «= Bf4
- Ladies, a ee ee eee ee 215
MEDITATION XVI.
{On DicksTion, - - = = - = « «= 818
Ingestion, - - : - - - me 218
=< Duty of the Stomach, - - 7 “ “ - 220

Influence of Digestion, a 223
x CONTENTS.

PAGE
MEDITATION XVII.

Repose, - - - - - 227

Time of Rest, a a 230
MEDITATION XVIII.

~~ SLEEP, eo se 4. a oe. eb OSE

Definition, - - - - a a 2 231
MEDITATION XIX.

Dreams, - - - - - - - - 234

(® Nature of Dreams, a 236
System of Dr. Gall, - - - - - - - 237
First Observation, - - - - - - 237
Second Observation, - = = = = - 238
Result, - - - - - - - 240
Age, 0)
Phenomena of Dreams, - - - - - - 240

' FirstObservation, - - - = 2 = = 241

: Second Observation, - - - - - 241

Third Observation, - - - - - - -~ 242

Lope as you willbe done by, - - - = = 244
MEDITATION XX.

Inrivence or Diet on Rest, Steep AND DREAMS, 246
Effects of Diet on Labor, - - 246
Dreams, - i) iS a = = a - 248
Consequence, - 5 = = fe se 248
Result, = - - - - - - - 2)

MEDITATION XXI.

OzesitTy, - - - - - - - 251

Causes of Obesity, - - - - - = = 255

Sequel, Se ee 256
CONTENTS. a

PAGE

Osssity,

Sequel, ts - ee eee 257

Anecdote, mo. 8 = as : “ - 258

Inconvenience of Obesity, - - - - = 259

Examples of Obesity, - -  e - 260
MEDITATION XXII.

PRESERVATIVE TREATMENT AND CuRE or OBESITY, - 263
Generalities, - : - s = = - 264.
Sequel of the Regimen, - eee 268

~—Dangers of Acids, - ee - 268
Antiobesic Belt, - - - - - - 270
Quinquina, - oe. SSP. eh ve TE

MEDITATION XXIII.
ene - - - - - - - 273
- Definition, - - - - - - - 273
Varieties, - - - - - - 273
Effects of Thinness, - - - - - - 273
Natural Predestination, - - - -  - 274
Fattening Regimen, ee ey ae Ce ek TS

MEDITATION XXIV.

Fastine, - - - 279
Definition, - - - - - - - 279
Origin, - - - - - 279

\- How people used to Fast, - + = = 280
Origin of the removal of Restriction in Fasting, - 282

MEDITATION XXV.

ExHAUSTION, - = © © & SS «s « B84

Treatment, - - = - Ss a ie os 284

~> Qure bythe Professor, - - - - - = 285
xii CONTENTS.

MEDITATION XXVI.

‘Duatt, - -  -

MEDITATION XXVII.

PuiiosopaicaL History or THE KircHEn,

Order of Alimentation, -
Discovery of Fire, 2
_ Baking, -

\ Oriental Entertainments—Grecian,
‘ Roman Festivals, -
# Resurrection of Lucullus,

\\Poetry,

\Irruption of the Barbarians,

MEDITATION XXVIII.

RESTAURATEURS, = oe
Establishment, - =
PaysroLocy or Taste—Part Second,

TRANSITION, - o
VARIETIES, - = a

J. L’omelette du Cure, = -
Omelette au Thon, - - -
Observations, - -

II. A National Victory, -

PAGE

288

292
293
294
295
298
299
3801
303
304

306
306

309
309

311
311
313
314
314

<OpI. Mystification of the Professor and Defeat of a

General, “ =
IV. The Snare, -
V. The Turbot, -
VI. Pheasants, -

VII. Gastronomical Industry of the Emigres,
VIII. Recollections of the Emigration,

The Weaver, - - @
The Starving, - 2 . #

318
321
822
824
326
329
329
331
CONTENTS. xii

PAGE
VARIETIES,

Sojourn in America, - - - - - 332
Asparagus, - 2s 332
Fondue, - 333

Recipe for Fondue, Copied from the Papers of M.
Trollet, Bailli of Mondon in Berne, - 334
Disappointment, 334
Wonderful Effects of a Classical Dinner, 335
Effects and Danger of Strong Drinks, - 336
Chevaliers and Abbés, - - 337
Misccllany—Wine, - ee 3839
Strawberries, - - - mi es 339
Judgment, - - = 339
Raisins, - - - - 339
A Day with the Bernardines, - - 3839
Prosperity en route, - - - - 343
H.... De P..., - - - - - - - 3846
Conclusion, - - - - - - - 347

2
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH.

THe excellent man to whom we are in-
debted for this book has described himself,
with so much charm, nature and truth; the
principal events of his life have been recorded
in such an agreeable and faithful manner
that very few words will suffice to finish the
story.

Brillat Savarin (Anthelme) Counsel of the
Court of Cassation, member of the Legion
of Honor, member of the Society for the
Encouragement of National Industry, of the
Antiquarian Society of France, of the Philo-
selic Society of Bourg, &c., &c., was born, Ist
of April, 1755, at Belley, a little Alpine city,
not far from the banks of the Rhine, which
at this place separates France from Savoy.
Like his forefathers, who had been for seve-
ral generations devoted to the bar, the pro-
fession which pleased him, in consequence
of his possession of great eloquence, he prac-

tised with great success.
(xv)
Xvi BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH.

In, 1789, the unanimous vote of his fel-
low-citizens deputed him to the Constituent
assembly, composed of all that was most
brilliant in the youth of France at that day.
Less attached in practice to the philosophy
of Zeno than that of Epicurus, his name
does not figure very conspicuously, but always
appears at epochs, which show that he acted
with the good and moderate.

His legislative functions being determined
by the expiration of the Constituent Assem-
bly, he was first appointed President of the
Superior Civil court of the Department of Ain,
and subsequently a Justice of the Court of
Cassation, newly instituted; a man of talent,
perfectly incorruptible and unhesitating in
the discharge of his duty, he would have
been precisely calculated for the place to
which he had been appointed, had the
warmth of political discussion made _practi-
cable the advice either of moderation or of
prudence. In 1793, he was Mayor of Bel-
ley, and passed in anxiety there, the season
of the reign of Terror; whence he was forced
to fly to Switzerland for an asylum against the
revolutionary movement. Nothing can better
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. xvii

describe the evil of those days than that a
man, without a personal enemy, should be
forced to pass in a foreign land the days he
purposed to devote to the improvement of
his country.

This is the point when the character of
Brillat Savarin assumes its grandest propor-
tions; proscribed, a fugitive, and often with-
out pecuniary resources, frequently unable
to provide for his personal safety, he was
always able to console his companions in
exile and set them an example of honest
industry. As time rolled on, and his situation
became more painful, he sought to find in
the new world a repose which Europe de-
nied him; he came from Europe, and in
Boston, New York, Philadelphia, and Hart-
ford passed two years teaching the French
language, and for a time playing the first
violin in the orchestra of the Park Theatre.
Like many other emigres, Brillat Savarin ever
sought to make the pleasant and the useful
coincide. He always preserved very plea-
sant recollection of this period of his life,
in which he enjoyed, with moderate labor,
all that is necessary for happiness, liberty

Q%*
RVlii BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCII.

sweetened by honest toil. He might say
all is well; and to be able to enjoy the
breath of my native land would alone in-
crease my happiness; he fancied that he
saw brighter days with the commencement
of Vendémiaire year 5, corresponding to
September, of 1796. Appointed by the
Directory, as Secretary of the General in
Chief of the Republican armies in Germany,
then Commisary of the government in the
department of the Seine and Oise, (this
appointment he held at the epoch of the
18th Brumaire, in which France fancied she
exchanged liberty for repose,) sustained by
the Senate and the Court, Brillat Savarin
passed the remaining twenty-five years of
his life respected by his inferiors, loved by
his equals, and honored by all. A man of
mind, a pleasant guest, with a deep fund
of humor, he delighted every body. His
judicial labors did not at all interfere with
the composition of this book, which he
esteemed the great one of his life.

To the very facility of its composition,
the “Physiology of the Taste,” owes its suc-
cess; one would form a very erroneous
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. xix

opinion of it, were he to estimate it at
all as we do Montaigue’s writings on the
Gueule. /Savarin was naturally a thoughtful °
man, tké simplest meal satisfied him, all he
required was that it should be ei
beens and he maintained that the art
lof cookery consisted in exciting the taste.e——
He used to say, “to excite a stomach of
Papier Mache, and enliven vital powers
almost ready to depart, a cook needs more
talent than he who has solved the infini-
tesmal calculus.

The world was much surprised by finding
in a book by Brillat Savarin, a man it had
always looked upon as simply a very plea-=
sant person, such a vast collection of general
information; after his laborious profession
he had always seemed to expend the rest
of his time with the muses and graces, and
none could divine where he obtained so
much information, as almost to recall the
story of some gray-haired sage of Greece.
He had however already composed more than
one work unrecognised, if we except the two
opuscula “Critical and Historical Essay on
Duel, with Relation to our Legislation and
xX BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH.

Morals,” and a work on judicial practice.
They were successful, but he was just then
attacked by a violent cold, contracted by
being present at the annual ceremony,” the
21st of January at- the Church of St. Dennis.
In spite of every care and attention, on the

2d of February, 1826, he died. For many ..

years gifted with robust health and athletic
constitution, made the more remarkable by
his tall stature, Brillat Savarin had a pre-
sentiment of the approach of death; this
feeling, however, did not influence the tenor
of his life, for his habitual gaity was main-
tained unimpaired. When the fatal point
was reached, he died tanquam convivia satur,
not without regret, certainly, for he left
many kind friends to whom his memory
could not but be dear.

* Not only Brillat Savarin, but Robert De St. Vincent,
and Attorney General Marchangy, contracted their death in
consequence of the same ceremonial.
APHORISMS OF THE PROFESSOR.

TO SERVE AS PROLEGOMENA TO HIS WORK AND

ETERNAL BASIS TO THE SCIENCE.

I. THE universe would be nothing were it not for
life, and all that lives must be fed.

II. Animals fill themselves; man eats. The man
of mind alone knows how to eat,

TI]. The destiny of nations depends on the manner
in which they are fed.

IV. Tell me what kind of food you eat, and I will
tell you what kind of man you are.

V. The Creator, when he obliges man to eat,
invites him to do so by appetite, and rewards him
by pleasure.

VI. Gourmandise is an act of our judgment, in
obedience to which, we grant a preference to things
which are agreeable, over those which have not that
quality.

VII. The pleasure of the table belongs to all ages,
to all conditions, to all countries, and to all eras; it
mingles with all other pleasures, and remains at last

to console us for their departure.
3 (25)
26 PROLEGOMENA.

VIII. The table is the only place where one does
not suffer from ennui, during the first hour.

IX. The discovery of a new dish confers more
happiness on humanity, than the discovery of a new
star.

X. Those persons who suffer from indigestion, or
who become drunk, are utterly ignorant of the true
principles of eating and drinking.

XI. The order of food is from the most substantial
to the lightest.

XII. The order of drinking is from the mildest to
the most foamy and perfumed.

XIII. To say that we should not change our drinks
is a heresy ; the tongue becomes saturated, and after
the third glass yields but an obtuse sensation.

XIV. A dessert without cheese is like a beautiful
woman who has lost an eye.

XV. A cook may be taught, but a man who can
roast, is born with the faculty.

XVI. The most indispensable quality of a good
cook is promptness. It should also be that of the
guests.

XVII. To wait too long for a dilatory guest, shows
disrespect to those who are punctual.

XVIII. He who receives friends and pays no
attention to the repast prepared for them, is not fit
to have friends.
PROLEGOMENA., oT

XIX. The mistress of the house should always be
certain that the coffee be excellent; the master that
his liquors be of the first quality.

XX. To invite a person to your house is to take
charge of his happiness as long as he be beneath your
roof.
DIALOGUE

BETWEEN

THE AUTHOR AND HIS FRIEND.

(AFTER THE USUAL SALUTATIONS.)

Frienp. As my wife and myself were at breakfast
this morning, we came to the conclusion that you
should print, as soon as possible, your Gastronomical
Observations.

AvurHor. What the wife wishes God wills. In six
words that is the charta of Paris. I, though, am not
subject to that law, for I am an unmarried man.

Friend. Bachelors, though, are as subject to the
law as others are, sometimes much to our injury.
Single blessedness here, however, will not save you.
My wife says she has aright to order, because you
began your book at her country-house.

AvutHor. You know, dear Doctor, how I defer to
the ladies; more than once you have found my sub-
mission to their orders. You also were one of those
who said I would make an excellent husband. I will

not, however, print my book.
(28)
DIALOGUE. 29

Frienp. Why not?

AvutHor. Because being devoted, from the nature
of my profession, to serious studies, I fear that those
who only know the title of my book will think that
I devote myself to trifles.

Frienp. A panic terror! Thirty-six years of
constant toil and labor for the public, have made you
a reputation. Besides, my wife and I think every
body would read you.

Avrnor. Indeed!

Frienp. The learned will read your book to
ascertain what you have to tell.

AvutHor. Perhaps.

Frienp. Women will read your book because
they will see /

AvutHor. My dear friend, Iam old, I am attacked

 

by a fit of wisdom. Miserere mez.

Frienp. Gourmands will read you because you
do them justice, and assign them their suitable rank
in society.

AvuTHor. Well, that is true. It is strange that
they have so long been misunderstood ; I look on the
dear Gourmands with paternal affection. They are
so kind and their eyes are so bright.

Frrenp. Besides, did you not tell me such a book
was needed in every library.

AvutHor. Idid. It is the truth—and I would die
sooner than deny it.

3%
380 DIALOGUE.

Frinnp. Ah! you are convinced! You will come
home with me?

AvutTHor. Not so. If there be flowers in the
author’s path, there are also thorns. The latter I
leave to my heirs.

Frisnp. But then you disinherit your friends,
acquaintances and cotemporaries. Dare you do so?

AvutHor. My heirs! my heirs! I have heard
that shades of the departed are always flattered by
the praise of the living; this is a state of beatitude
I wish to reserve myself for the other world.

Friznp. But are you sure that the praise you
love so, will come to the right address? Are you
sure of the exactness of your heirs ?

Autuor. I have no reason to think they will
neglect a duty, in consideration of which I have
excused them the neglect of so many others.

Friznp. Will they—can they have for your book
the paternal love, the author’s attention without
which every work always comes awkwardly before
the public ?

Avutuor. My manuscript will be corrected, writ-
ten out distinctly, and in all respects prepared ; they
will only have to print it.

Frienp. And the chapter of events? Alas! such
circumstances have caused the loss of many precious
books,—among which was that of the famous Lecat,
on the state of the body during sleep; the work of hig
whole life.
DIALOGUE. 31

AvutHor. This doubtless was a great loss; but I
anticipate no such regrets for my book.

Frienp. Believe me, your friends will have enough
to do to arrange matters with the church, with the
law, and with the medical faculty, so that if they had
the will, they would not have the time to devote them-
selves to the various cares which precede, accompany,
and follow the publication of a book,—however small
the volume may be.

AvutHor. But, my friend, what a title! Think
of the ridicule !

Friend. The word Gastronomy makes every ear
attentive ; the subject is a la mode, and those who
laugh are as great votaries of the science as any
others are. This should satisfy you. Do you
remember too, that the greatest men have sometimes
written books on very trivial subjects,—Montesquieu,
for example.*

AvutHor. (Quickly.) On my word, that is true.
He wrote the Temple of Gnidus, and it would not be
difficult to sustain that there is more real utility in
meditating on what is at once a necessity, a pleasure,

*M.de Montucla, known as the author of an excellent
history of mathematics, made a Dictionary of Gourmand
Geography ; he showed me portions of it during my residence
at Versailles. It is said that M. Berryat—Professor of legal
practice, has written a romance in several volumes on the
subject.
32 DIALOGUE.

and an occupation every day of our lives, than in
telling what was done and said a thousand years ago
by two mad people, one of whom pursued through the
woods of Greece the other, who had not the least dis-
position to escape.

Frienp. Ah! ha! Now you yield?

Avutuor. Not I. The ass’s ear of the author
only was shown; and this recalls to my memory a
scene of English comedy, which amused me very
much; it is, I think, in the play called the Natural
Daughter. You shall see, however, for yourself.*

The subject relates to the Quakers, that sect which
uses “thee” and “thou” to every body, which dresses
simply, never go to war, never swear or act with pas-
sion, and who never get angry.

The hero of this piece is a young and handsome
Quaker, who appears on the scene in a brown coat, a
broad-brimmed hat, and slick hair! All this, though,
does not keep him from being in love. .

A fool who is his rival, emboldened by his exterior,
ridicules and outrages him so that the young man
gradually becoming excited, and finally made furious,
gives his assailant a severe thrashing.

* The reader will observe that my friend permits me to be
familiar with him, without taking advantage of it. The rea-
son is, that the difference between our ages is that of a father
anda son, and that, though now a man of great note and
importance in every respect, he would be completely over.
come with grief if I changed my bearing towards him.
DIALOGUE. 33

Having done this he at once resumes his habitual
deportment and says, sadly, “Alas! the flesh is too
mighty for the spirit.”

Thus say I, and after a brief hesitation resume
my first opinion.

Frienp. That is impossible. You have shown
your ear; you are a prize, and I will take you to my
bookseller. I will tell you who has gotten wind of
your secret.

AvtHor. Do not; for I would speak of yourself,
and who knows what I would say ?

Friend. What could yousay? Do not think you
can intimidate me.

AvtHor. I will not say that our native city* is
proud of having given you birth. At the age of
twenty-four you published an elementary book, which
from that day has become a classic. A deserved repu-
tation has attracted confidence to you. Your skill
revives invalids; your dexterity animates them; your
sensibility consoles them. All know this; but I will
reveal to all Paris, to all France, the sole fault of
which I know you guilty.

Frienp. (Seriously.) What do you mean?

AvrHor. An habitual fault which no persuasion
can correct.

* Belley, capital of Bugey, where high mountains, hills,
vines, limped streams, cascades, dells, gardens of a hundred
square leagues are found, and where, before the revolution,
the people were able to control the other two orders.
34 DIALOGUE.

Frienp. Tell me what you mean! Why tor-
ment me?
Autor. You eat too quickly.

(HERE THE FRIEND TAKES UP HIS HAT AND LEAVES,
FANCYING THAT HE HAS MADE A CONVERT.)
BIOGRAPHY.

Tue Doctor I have introduced into the dialogue we have
just read, is not a creature of imagination like the Chloris of
other days, but a real living Doctor. Those who know me, will
remember RIcHERAND.

When I thought of him I could not but have reference to
those who preceded him, and I saw with pride that from
Belley, from the department of Ain, my native soil, for a long
time physicians of the greatest distinction had come. I could
not resist the temptation to erect a brief monument to them.

During the regency Doctors Genin and Civoct were in full
possession of practice, and expended in their country a wealth
they had honorably-acquired. The first was altogether H1p-
POCRATITE; he proceeded secundum artem; the second was
almost monopolized by women, and had as his device, as
Tacitus would have said, res novas molientem.

About 1780 Chapelle became distinguished in the dangerous
career of a military surgeon. About 1781 Doctor Dubois had
great success in sundry maladies, then very much a la mode,
and iu nervous diseases. The success he obtained was really
wonderful.

Unfortunately he inherited a fortune and became idle, and
was satisfied to be a good story-teller. He was very amusing,
and contrived to survive the dinners of the new and old
regime.*

* T smiled when I wrote the above, for it recalled to me an Academi-
cian, the eulogium of whom Fontenelle undertook. The deceased
knew only how to play at all games. Fontenelle made a very decent

oration, however, about him,
(35 )
86 BIOGRAPIIY.

About the end of the reign of Louis XV., Dr. Coste, a native
of Chatillon came to Paris; he had a letter from Voltaire to
the Duc de Choiseuil, the good wishes of whom he gained as
soon as he had seen him.

Protected by this nobleman, and by the Duchess of Gram-
mont, his sister, young Coste advanced rapidly, and in a short
time became one of the first physiciuns of Paris.

The patronage he had received took him from a profitable
career to place him at the head of the medical department of
the army which France sent to the United States, who then
were contending for their independence.

Haying fulfilled his mission, Coste returned to France, and
almost unseen lived through the evil days of 1793. He was
elected maire of Versailles, and even now the memory of his
administration, at once mild, gentle and paternal, has been
preserved.

The Directors now recalled him to the charge of the medical
department of the army. Bonaparte appointed him one of
the three Inspectors General of the service; the Doctor was
always the friend, protector, and patron of the young men who
selected that service. He was at last appointed Physician of
the Invalides, and discharged the duties until he died.

Such service the Bourbons could not neglect, and Louis
XVIII. granted to Doctor Coste the cordon of Saint Michel.

Doctor Coste died a few years since, leaving behind kind
recollections, and a daughter married to M. Lalot, who dis-
tinguished himself in the Chamber of Deputies by his eloquent
and profound arguments.

One day when we had dined with M. Favre, the Curé of
St. Laurent, Doctor Coste told me of a difficulty he had, the
day before, with the Count de Le Cessac, then a high officer of
the ministry of war, about a certain economy which the
latter proposed as a means of paying his court to Napo-
leon.
BIOGRAPHY. 87

The economy consisted in retrenching the allowances of
hospital, so as to restrict men who had wounds from the com-
forts they were entitled to.

Doctor Coste said such measures were abominable, and he
became angry.

I do not know what the result was, but only that the sick
soldiers had their usual allowances, and that no change was
made.

He was appointed Professor of the Faculty of Medicine.
His style was simple and his addresses were plain and fruitful.
Honors were crowded on him. He was appointed Physician
to the Empress Marie Louise. He did not, however, fill that
place long, the Emperor was swept away, and the Doctor him-
self succumbed to a disease of the leg, to which he had long
been subject.

Bordier was of a calm disposition, kind and reliable

About the 18th century appeared Bichat, all of the writings
of whom bear the impress of genius. He expended his life in
toil to advance science, and joined the patience of restricted
minds to enthusiasm. He died at the age of thirty, and pub-
lic honors were decreed to his memory.

At a later day came Doctor Montégre, who carried philoso-
phy into clinics. He was the editor of the Gazette de Santé,
and at the age of forty died in the Antilles, whither he had
gone to complete his book on the Vomite Negro.

At the present moment Richerand stands on the highest
degree of operative medicine, and his Elements of Physiology
have been translated into every language. Appointed at an
early date a Professor of the Faculty of Paris, he made all
rely fully on him. He is the keenest, gentlest, and quickest
operator in the world.

Recamier, a professor of the same faculty, sits by his side.

The present being thus assured, the future expands itself
before us! Under the wings of these mighty Professors arise

4
38 BIOGRAPHY.

young men of the same land, who seek to follow their honora-
ble examples.

Janin and Manjot already crush the pavement of Paris.
Manjot devotes himself to the diseases of children; he has
happy inspirations, and soon will tell the public what he has
discovered.

I trust my readers will pardon this digression of an old
man, who, during an absence of thirty years, has neither for-
gotten his country nor his countrymen. I could not however
omit all those physicians, the memory of whom is yet pre-
served in their birth-place, and who, though not conspicuous,
had not on that account the less merit or worth.*

* The translator thinks several have made world-renowned names.
PREFACE.

Ty offering to the public the work I now produce, I
have undertaken no great labor. I have only put in
order materials I had collected long ago. The occu-
pation was an amusing one, which I reserved for my
old age.

When I thought of the pleasures of the table, under
every. point of view, I saw that something better than
a common cookery book could be made out of it, and
that much might be said about essential and continu-
ous things, which have a direct influence on health,

happiness, and even on business.
When I had once gotten hold of the idea, all ae
rest came naturally. I looked around, took notes,

and amidst the most sumptuous festivals looked at the
guests. Thus I escaped many of the dangers of con- iy

 

viviality.

To do what I have undertaken, one need not bea
physician, chemist, physiologist, or even a savant. All
I learned, I learned without the least idea that I
would ever be an author. J was impressed by a

laudable curiosity, by the fear of remaining behind
(39)
40 PREFACE,

my century, and by an anxiety to be able to sit at
table on equal terms with the savants I used to meet.

Iam essentially an amateur medecin, and this to
me is almost a mania. Among the happiest days of
my life, when with the Professors, I went to hear the
thesis of Doctor Cloquet; I was delighted when I
heard the murmur of the students’ voices, each of
whom asked who was the foreign professor who
honored the College with his presence.

One other day is, I think, almost as dear to me. I
refer to the meeting of the society for the encourage-

ment of national industry, when I presented the _

irrorator, an instrument of my own invention, which
is neither more nor less than a forcing pump filled
with perfumes.

I had an apparatus fully charged in my pocket. I
turned the cock, and thence pressed out a perfume
which filled the whole room.

Then I saw, with inexpressible pleasure, the wisest
heads of the capital bend beneath my irrigation, and
I was glad to see that those who received most, were
the happiest.

Thinking sometimes of the grave lucubrations to
which I was attracted by my subject, I really was
afraid that I would be troublesome. I have often
read very stupid books.

Idid all that I could to escape this reproach. I
have merely hovered over subjects which presented
themselves to me; I have filled my book with ance-
PREFACE. 41

dotes, some of which to a degree are personal. I
have omitted to mention many strange and singular
things, which critical judgment induced me to reject,
and I recalled popular attention to certain things
which savants seemed to have reserved to themselves.
If, in spite of all these efforts, I have not presented to
my readers a science rarely understood, I shall sleep
just as calmly, being certain that the majority will
acquit me of all evil intention.

It may perhaps be said that sometimes I wrote too
rapidly, and that sometimes I became garrulous. Is it
my fault that Tam old? Is it my fault that, like
Ulysses, I have seen the manners and customs of
many cities? Am I therefore blamable for writing a
little bit of autobiography? Let the reader, how-
ever, remember that I do not inflict my political
memoirs on him, which he would have to read, as he
has many others, since during the last thirty years I
have been exactly in the position to see great men
and great things.

Let no one assign me a place among compilers ;
had I been reduced thus low, I would have laid down
my pen, and would not have lived less happily.

I said, like Juvenal:

«Semper ego auditor tantum! nunquamne reponam {”
. . S
and those who know me will easily see that used to

the tumult of society and to the silence of the study, I
4%
42 PREFACE.

had to take advantage of both one and the other of
these positions.

I did too many things which pleased me particu-
larly ; I was able to mention many friends who did
not expect me to do so, and recalled some pleasant
memories; I seized on others which would have
escaped, and, as we say familiarly, took my coffee.

It may be a single reader may in some category
“T wished to know if oad
“What was he thinking of,” etc., ete. I am sure,
though, the others will make him be silent and receive
with kindness the effusions of a praiseworthy senti-
ment.

 

 

exclaim,

I have something to say about my style, which, as
Buffon says, is all the man.

Let none think I come to ask for a favor which is
never granted to those who need it. I wish merely to
make an explanation.

I should write well, for Voltaire, Jean Jacques,
Fenelon, Buffon, and Cochin and Aguesseau were my
favorite authors. I knew them by heart.

It may be though, that the gods ordered otherwise ;
if so, this is the cause of the will of the gods.

I know five languages which now are spoken, which
gives me an immense refectory of words.

When I need a word and do not find it in
French, I select it from other tongues, and tho
reader has either to understand or translate me.
Such is my fate.
PREFACE. 43

I could have acted otherwise, but was prevented
by a kind of system to which I was invincibly
attached.

I am satisfied that the French language which I use
is comparatively poor. What could I do? LEither
borrow or steal.

I did neither, for such borrowings, cannot be
restored, though to steal words is not punishable by
the penal code.

Any one may form an idea of my audacity when I
say I applied the Spanish word volante to any one I
had sent on an errand, and that I had determined to
gallicise the English word To sip, which means to
drink in small quantities. I however dug out the
French word stroter, which expresses nearly the same
thing. ee

I am aware the purists will appeal to Bosseux, to
Fenelon, Raceri, Boilleau, Pascal, and others of the
reign of Louis XIV. I fancy I hear their clamor.

To all this I reply distinctly, that Ido not depre-
ciate the merit of those authors; but what follows?
Nothing, except that if they played well on an infe-
rior instrument, how much better would they have
done on asuperior one. Therefore, we may believe
that Tartini would have played on the violin far bet-
ter than he did, if his bow had been long as that of
Baillot.

Ido not belong to the neologues or even to the
romanticists ; the last are discoverers of hidden trea-
44 PREFACE.

sures, the former are like sailors who go about to
search for provisions they need.

The people of the North, and especially the Eng-
lish, have in this respect an immense advantage over
us. Genius is never restricted by the want of expres-
sion, which is either made or created. Thus it is that
of all subjects which demand depth and energy, our
translations make but pale and dull infusions.

Once I heard at the institute a pleasant discourse
on the danger of neologism, and on the necessity of
maintaining our language as it was when the authors
of the great century wrote.

“Like a chemist, I sifted the argument and ascer-
tained that it meant :

“We have done so well, that we neither need nor
can do better.”

Now; I have lived long enough to know that each
generation has done as much, and that each one
laughs at his grandfather.

Besides, words must change, when manners and
ideas undergo perpetual modifications. If we do
things as the ancients did, we do not do them in the
same manner. There are whole pages in many
French books, which cannot be translated into Latin
or Greek.

All languages had their birth, their apogee and
decline. None of those which have been famous from
the days of Sesostris to that of Philip Augustus, exist
except as monuments. The French will have the
PREFACE. 45

same fate, and in the year 2825 if read, will be read
with a dictionary.

I once had a terrible argument on this matter with
the famous M. Andrieux, at the Academie Francaise.

I made my assault in good array, I attacked him
vigorously, and would have beaten him had he not
made a prompt retreat, to which I opposed no obstacle,
fortunately for him, as he was making one letter of
the new lexicon.

I end by one important observation, for that reason
T have kept it till the last.

When I write of me in the singular, I gossip with
my reader, he may examine, discuss, doubt or laugh;
but when I say we I am a professor, and all must
bow to me.

“T am, Sir Oracle,
And when I ope my lips, let no dog bark.”
Merchant of Venice.
PHYSIOLOGY OF TASTE.

—+—

MEDITATION FIRST.

THE SENSES.

Tue senses are the organs by which man places
himself in connexion with exterior objects.

NUMBER OF THE SENSES.

1. They are at least six—

Sight, which embraces space, and tells us by means
of light, of the existence and of the colors of the
bodies around us.

Hearing, which, by the motion of the air, informs
us of the motion of sounding or vibrating bodies.

Scent, by means of which we are made aware of
the odors bodies possess.

Taste, which enables us to distinguish all that has
a flavor from that which is insipid.

Touch informs us of the consistency and resistance
of bodies.

The last is genesiac or physical love, which attracts
the sexes to each other, and the object of which is

the reproduction of the species.
(46)
SENSES. 47

It is astonishing that, almost to the days of Buffon,
80 Important a sense was misunderstood, and was con-
founded with the touch.

Yet the sensation of which it is the seat, has nothing
in common with touch; it resides in an apparatus as
complete as the mouth or the eyes, and what is singu-
lar is that each sex has all that is needed to
experience the sensation; it is necessary that the two
should be united to reach nature’s object. Ifthe taste,
the object of which is the preservation of the indi-
vidual, be incontestibly a sense, the same title must
indubitably be preserved on the organs destined to the
preservation of the species.

Let us then assign to the genesiac the sensual place
which cannot be refused to it, and let us leave to pos-
terity the assignment of its peculiar rank.

ACTION OF THE SENSES.

If we were permitted, even in imagination, to refer
to the first moments of the existence of the human
race, we would believe that the first sensations were
direct; that is to say that all saw confusedly and
indirectly, smelled without care, ate without tast-
ing, ete.

The centre of all these sensations, however, being
the soul, the sensual attribute of humanity and active
cause of perfectibility, they are reflected, compared,

and judged by it; the other senses then come to the
48 SENSES.

assistance of each other, for the utility and well-being
of the sensitive; one or individual.

Thus touch rectifies the errors of sight; sound, by
means of articulate speech, becomes the interpreter
of every sentiment ; taste is aided by sight and smell;
hearing compares sounds, appreciates distance; and
the genesiac sense takes possession of the organs of
all the senses.

The torrent of centuries rolling over the human
race, has continually brought new perfections, the
cause of which, ever active though unseen, is found in
the demands made by our senses, which always in
their turns demand to be occupied.

Sight thus gave birth to painting, to sculpture, and
to spectacles of every kind.

Sound, to melody, harmony, to the dance, and to
music in all its branches, and means of execution.

Smell, to the discovery, manufacture and use of
perfumes.

Taste, to the production, choice and preparation of
all that is used for food.

Touch, to all art, trades and occupations.

The genesiac sense, to all which prepares or embel-
lishes the reunion of senses, and, subsequently to the
days of Francois I., to romantic love, to coquetry,
which originated in France and obtained its name
there, and from which the élite of the world, collected
in the capital of the universe, take their lessons every
day.
SENSES. 49

This proposition, strange as it seems, is very suscep-
tible of demonstration ; we cannot express with clear-
ness in any ancient language, ideas about these three
great motives of actual society.

I had written a dialogue on this subject, but sup-
pressed it for the purpose of permitting the reader,
each in his own way, to think of the matter for him-
self. There is enough to occupy the mind and
display intelligence and erudition during a whole
evening.

We said above, that the genesiac sense took posses-
sion of the organs of all the others; the influence it
has exerted over all sciences is not less. When we
look closer, we will find that all that is most delicate
and ingenious is due to the desire, to hope, or to grati-
tude, in connexion with the union of the sexes.

Such is, indeed, the genealogy of the senses, even
the most abstract ones, all being the immediate result
of continuous efforts made to gratify our senses.

PERFECTNESS OF THE SENSES.

These senses, our favorites, are far from being per-
fect, and I will not pause to prove it. I will only
observe, that that ethereal sense—sight, and touch,
which is at the other extremity of the scale,
have from time acquired a very remarkable additional
power.

5
50 SENSES.

By means of spectacles the eye, so to say, escapes
from the decay of age, which troubles almost all the
other organs.

The telescope has discovered stars hitherto unknown
and inaccessible to all our means of mensuration; it
has penetrated distances so great, that luminous and
necessarily immense bodies present themselves to us
only like nebulous and almost imperceptible spots.

The microscope has made us acquainted with the
interior configuration of bodies; or has shown the
existence of a vegetation and of plants, the existence
of which we were ignorant of.

Animals a hundred thousand times smaller than any
visible with the naked eye have been discovered ;
these animalcule, however, move, feed and multiply,
establishing the existence of organs of inconceivable
tenuity.

Mechanics have multiplied our power; man has
executed all that he could conceive of, and has moved
weights nature made inaccessible to his weakness.

By means of arms and of the lever, man has con-
quered all nature; he has subjected it to his
pleasure, wants and caprices. He has overturned
its surfaces, and a feeble biped has become king of
creation.

Sight and touch, being thus increased in capacity,
might belong to some species far superior to man; or
rather the human species would be far different had
all the senses been thus improved.
SENSES. 51

We must in the meantime remark, that if touch
has acquired a great development as a muscular
power, civilization has done almost nothing for it as
an organ of sensation. We must, however, despair
of nothing, but remember that the human race is yet
young, and that only after a long series of years can
the senses aggrandise their domain.

For instance. Harmony was only discovered about
four centuries ago, and that celestial science is to
sound what painting is to colors.

Certainly, the ancients used to sing and accompany
themselves in unison. Their knowledge, however,
ended there. They knew neither how to decompose
sounds, nor to appreciate their relations.*

Tone was only reduced to system, and accords
measured in the fifteenthcentury. Only then it was
used to sustain the voice and to reinforce the expres-
sion of sentiments.

* We are aware that the contrary has been maintained ; the
idea though cannot be supported.

Had the ancients been acquainted with harmony, their
writings would have preserved some precise notion on the
matter, instead of a few obscure phrases, which may be tor-
tured to mean anything.

Besides, we cannot follow the birth and progress of harmony
in the monuments left to us; this obligation we owe to the
Arabs, who made us a present of the organ, which produces
at one time many continuous sounds, and thus created har-
mony.
52 SENSES.

This discovery, made at so late a day, yet so
natural, doubled the hearing, and has shown the exist-
ence of two somewhat independent faculties, one
of which receives sound and the other appreciates
resonance.

The German Doctors say that persons sensible of
harmony have one sense more than others.

Of those persons to whom music is but a confused
mass of sounds, we may remark that almost all sing
false. We are forced to think that they have the
auditory apparatus so made, as to receive but brief
and short undulation, or that the two ears not being
on the same diapason, the difference in length and
sensibility of these constituent parts, causes them to
transmit to the brain only an obscure and undeter-
mined sensation, like two instruments played in neither
the same key nor the same measure, and which can
produce no continuous melody.

The centuries last passed have also given the taste
important extension ; the discovery of sugar and its
different preparations, of alcoholic liquors, of wine,
ices, vanilla, tea and coffee, have given us flavors
hitherto unknown.

Who knows if touch will not have its day, and if
some fortuitous circumstance will not open to us thence
some new enjoyments? This is especially probable as
tactile sensitiveness exists every where in the body,
and consequently can every where be excited.
SENSES. 53

POWERS OF THE TASTE.

We have seen that physical love has taken posses-
sion of all the sciences. In this respect it acts with
its habitual tyranny.

The taste is a more prudent measure but not less
active faculty. Taste, we say, has accomplished the
same thing, with a slowness which ensures its success.

Elsewhere we will consider the march. We may,
however, observe, that he who has enjoyed a sumptu-
ous banquet in a hall decked with flowers, mirrors,
paintings, and statues, embalmed in perfume, enriched
with pretty women, filled with delicious harmony,
will not require any great effort of thought to satisfy
himself that all sciences have been put in requisition
to exalt and to enhance the pleasures of taste.

OBJECT OF THE ACTION OF THE SENSES.

Let us now glance at the system of our senses, con-
sidered together, and we will see that the Author of
creation had two objects, one of which is the conse-
quence of the other,—the preservation of the indi-
vidual and the duration of the species.

Such is the destiny of man, considered as a sensi-
tive being; all his actions have reference to this
double purpose.

The eye perceives external objects, reveals the

5*
54 SENSES.

wonders by which man is surrounded, and tells him he
is a portion of the great whole.

Hearing perceives sounds, not only as an agreeable
sensation, but as warnings of the movement of bodies
likely to endanger us.

The sense of touch watches to warn us by pain of
any immediate lesion.

That faithful servant the hand has prepared his
defence, assured his steps, but has from instinct
seized objects it thought needed to repair losses caused
by the use of life.

The sense of smell explores; deleterious substances
almost always have an unpleasant smell.

The taste decides; the teeth are put in action, the
tongue unites with the palate in tasting, and the
stomach soon commences the process of assimi-
lation.

In this state a strange languor is perceived, objects
seem discolored, the body bends, the eyes close, all
disappears, and the senses are in absolute repose.

When he awakes man sees that nothing around
him has changed, a secret fire ferments in his bosom,
a new organ is developed. He feels that he wishes
to divide his existence.

This active unquiet and imperious sentiment is
common to both sexes. It attracts them together
and unites them, and when the germ of a new being
is fecundated, the individuals can sleep in peace.
SENSES. 55

They have fulfilled the holiest of their duties by
assuring the duration of the species.*

Such are the general and philosophical principles
I wished to place before my readers, to lead them
naturally to the examination of the organ of taste.

* Buffon describes, with all the charms of the most brilliant
eloquence, the first moments of Eve’s existence. Called on to
describe almost the same subject, we have drawn but one fea-
ture. The reader will complete the picture.
MEDITATION II.

TASTE.

DEFINITION OF TASTE.

Taste is the sense which communicates to us a
knowledge of vapid bodies by means of the sensations
which they excite.

Taste, which has as its excitement appetite, hunger
and thirst, is the basis of many operations the result
of which is that the individual believes, developes,
preserves and repairs the losses occasioned by vital
evaporation.

Organized bodies are not sustained in the same
manner. The Author of creation, equally varied in
causes and effects, has assigned them different modes
of preservation.

Vegetables, which are the lowest in the scale of
living things, are fed by roots, which, implanted in
the native soil, select by the action of a peculiar
mechanism, different subjects, which serve to increase
and to nourish them.

As we ascend the scale we find bodies gifted with
animal life and deprived of locomotion. They are
produced in a medium which favors their existence,

(56 )
TASTE. 57

and have special and peculiar organs which extract all
that is necessary to sustain the portion and duration
of life allotted them. They do not seek food, which,
on the contrary, comes to seek them.

Another mode has been appointed for animals
endowed with locomotion, of which man is doubtless
the most perfect. A peculiar instinct warns him of
the necessity of food ; he seeks and seizes the things
which he knows are necessary to satisfy his wants ;
he eats, renovates himself, and thus during his life
passes through the whole career assigned to him.

Taste may be considered in three relations.

In physical man it is the apparatus by means of
which he appreciates flavors.

In moral man it is the sensation which the organ
impressed by any savorous centre impresses on the
common centre. Considered as a material cause, taste
is the property which a body has to impress the
organ and to create a sensation.

Taste seems to have two chief uses:

1. It invites us by pleasure to repair the losses
which result from the use of life.

2. It assists us to select from among the substances
offered by nature, those which are alimentary.

Tn this choice taste is ppwerfully aided by the sense
of smell, as we will see hereafter; as a general prin-
ciple, it may be laid down that nutritious substances
are repulsive neither to the taste nor to the smell.
58 TASTE.

MECHANISM OF TASTE.

It is difficult to say in exactly what the faculty of
taste consists. It is more complicated than it
appears.

The tongue certainly plays a prominent part in the
mechanism of degustation—for, being endued with
great muscular power, it enfolds, turns, presses and
swallows food.

Also, by means of the more or less numerous pores
which cover it, it becomes impregnated with the sapid
and soluble portions of the bodies which it is placed
in contact with. Yet all this does not suffice, for
many adjacent parts unite in completing the sensa-
tion—viz: jaws, palate, and especially the nasal tube,
to which physiologists have perhaps not paid attention
enough.

The jaws furnish saliva, as necessary to mastication
as to the formation of the digestible mass. They, like
the palate, are gifted with a portion of the apprecia-
tive faculties; I do not know that, in certain cases,
the nose does not participate, and if but for the odor
which is felt in the back of the mouth, the sensation
of taste would not be obtuse and imperfect.

Persons who have no tongue or who have lost it,
yet preserve the sensation of taste. All the books
mention the first case; the second was explained to
me by an unfortunate man, whose tongue had been
cut out by the Algerines for having, with several of
\

TASTE. 59

his companions, formed a plot to escape from cap-
tivity.

I met this man at Amsterdam, where he was a kind
of broker. He was a person of education, and by
writing was perfectly able to make himself under-
stood.

Observing that his whole tongue, to the very
attachment, had been cut away, I asked him if he yet
preseryed any sense of taste when he ate, and if the
sense of taste had survived the cruel operation he had
undergone.

He told me his greatest annoyance was in swallow-
ing, (which indeed was difficult ;) that he had a full
appreciation of tastes and flavors, but that acid and
bitter substances produced intense pain.

He told me the abscission of the tongue was very
common in the African kingdoms, and was made use
of most frequently to punish those thought to be the
leaders of any plot, and that they had peculiar instru-
ments to affect it with. I wished him to describe
them, but he showed such painful reluctance in this
matter, that I did not insist.

T reflected on what he said, and ascending to the
centuries of ignorance, when the tongues of blas-
phemers were cut and pierced, I came to the conclu-
sion that thes? punishments were of Moorish origin,
and were imported by the crusaders.

We have seen above, that the sensation of taste
resided chiefly in the pores and feelers of the tongue.
60 TASTE.

Anatomy tells us that all tongues are not exactly
alike, there being three times as many feelers in some
tongues as in others. This circumstance will explain
why one of two guests, sitting at the same table, is
delighted, while the other seems to eat from con-
straint; the latter has a tongue but slightly provided.
These are recognized in the empire of the taste—both
deaf and dumb.

SENSATION OF TASTE.

Five or six opinions have been advanced as to the
modus operandi of the sensation of taste. I have
mine, viz:

The sensation of taste is a chemical operation,
produced by humidity. That is to say, the savorous
particles must be dissolved in some fluid, so as to be
subsequently absorbed by the nervous tubes, feelers,
or tendrils, which cover the interior of the gastatory
apparatus.

This system, whether true or not, is sustained by
physical and almost palpable proofs.

Pure water creates no sensation, because it contains
no sapid particle. Dissolve, however, a grain of salt,
or infuse a few drops of vinegar, and there will be
sensation.

Other drinks, on the contrary, create sensation

because they are neither more nor less than liquids
filled with appreciable particles.
TASTE. 61

It would be in vain for the mouth to fill itself with
the divided particles of an insoluble body. The
tongue would feel by touch the sensation of their
presence, but not that of taste.

In relation to solid and savorous bodies, it is neces-
sary in the first place for the teeth to divide them,
that the saliva and other tasting fluids to imbibe
them, and that the tongue press them against the
palate, so as to express a juice, which, when sufficiently
saturated by the degastory tendrils, deliver to the
substance the passport it requires for admission into
the stomach.

This system, which will yet receive other develop-
ments, replies without effort to the principal questions
which may present themselves.

If we demand what is understood by sapid bodies,
we reply that it is every thing that has flavor, which is
soluble, and fit to be absorbed by the organ of taste.

If asked how a sapid body acts, we reply that it
acts when it is reduced to such a state of dissolution
that it enters the cavities made to receive it.

In a word, nothing is sapid but what is already or
nearly dissolved.

FLAVORS.

The number of flavors is infinite, for every soluble
body has a peculiar flavor, like none other.
Flavors are also modified by their simple, double,
or multiple aggregation. It is impossible to make
6
62 TASTE.

al

any description, either of the most pleasant or of the
most unpleasant, of the raspberry or of colocynth.
All who have tried to do so have failed.

This result should not amaze us, for being gifted
with an infinite variety of simple flavors, which mix-
ture modifies to such a number and to such a quantity,
a new language would be needed to express their
effects, and mountains of folios to describe them.
Numerical character alone could label them.

Now, as yet, no flavor has ever been appreciated
with rigorous exactness, we have been forced to be
satisfied with a limited number of expressions such as
sweet, sugary, acid, bitter, and similar ones, which,
when ultimately analyzed, are expressed by the two
following agreeable and disagreeable, which suffice to
make us understood, and indicate the flavor of the
sapid substances referred to.

Those who come after us will know more, for doubt-
less chemistry will reveal the causes or primitive ele-
ments of flavors.

INFLUENCE OF SMELLING ON THE TASTE.

The order I marked out for myself has insensibly
led me to the moment to render to smell the rights
which belong to it, and to recognise the important
services it renders to taste and the application of
flavors. Among the authors I have met with, I recog-
nise none as having done full justice to it.

For my own part, 1am not only persuaded that
TASTE. 63

without the interposition of the organs of smell, there
would be no complete degustation, and that the taste
and the sense of smell form but one sense, of which
the mouth is the laboratory and the nose the chimney ;
or to speak more exactly, that one tastes tactile sub-
stances, and the other exhalations.

This may be vigorously defended; yet as I do not
wish to establish a school, I venture on it only to give
my readers a subject of thought, and to show that I
have carefully looked over the subject of which I
write. Now I continue my demonstration of the
importance of the sense of smell, if not as a constitu-
ent portion of taste, at least as a necessary adjunct.

All sapid bodies are necessarily odorous, and there-
fore belong as well to the empire of the one as of the
other sense.

We eat nothing without seeing this, more or less
plainly. The nose plays the part of sentinel, and
always cries “‘ who goes there 2?”

Close the nose, and the taste is paralyzed; a thing
proved by three experiments any one can make:

1. When the nasal membrane is irritated by a vio-
lent coryza (cold in the head) the taste is entirely
obliterated. There is no taste in anything we swal-
low, yet the tongue is in its normal state.

2. If we close the nose when we eat, we are amazed
to see how obscure and imperfect the sense of touch
is. The most disgusting medicines thus are swallowed
almost without taste.
64 TASTE.

3. The same effect is observed if, as soon aS we
have swallowed, instead of restoring the tongue to its
usual place, it be kept detached from the palate.
Thus the circulation of the air is intercepted, the
organs of smell are not touched, and there is no taste.

These effects have the same cause, from the fact that
the sense of smell does not co-operate with the taste.
The sapid body is appreciated only on account of the
juice, and not for the odorous gas which emanates
from it.

ANALYSIS OF THE SENSATION OF TASTE.

Principles being thus determined, I look on it as
certain that taste has given place to sensations of
three different orders, viz: direct, complete and
reflected.

Direct sensation is the first perception emanating
from the intermediate organs of the mouth, during the
time that the sapid body rests on the tongue.

Complete sensation is that composed of the first
impression which is created when the food abandons
this first position, passes into the back of the mouth,
and impresses all the organ with both taste and per-
fume.

Reflected sensation is the judgment which conveys
to. the soul the impressions transmitted to it by the
organ.

Let us put this system in action by observing what
takes place when a man either eats or drinks,
TASTE. 65

Let a man, for instance, eat a peach, and he will
first be agreeably impressed by the odor which ema-
nates from it. He places it in his mouth, and acid
and fresh flavors induce him to continue. Not,
though, until he has swallowed it, does the [perfume
reveal itself, nor does he till then discover the pecu-
liar flavor of every variety. Some time is necessary
for any gourmet* to say, “It is good, passable, or
bad. It is Chambertin, or something else.”

It may then be seen that in obedience to principles
and practice well understood, true amateurs sip their
wine. Every mouthful thus gives them the sum total
of pleasure which they would not have enjoyed had
they swallowed it at once.

The same thing takes place, with however much
more energy, when the taste is disagreeably affected.

Just look at the patient of some doctor who pre-
scribes immense doses of black medicine, such as were
given during the reign of Louis XIV.

The sense of smell, like a faithful counsellor, fore-
tells its character. The eyes expand as they do at
the approach of danger; disgust is on the lips and
the stomach at once rebells. He is however besought
to take courage, gurgles his throat with brandy, closes
his nose and swallows.

* Any gentleman or lady, who may please, is at perfect
liberty to translate the word gourmet into any other tongue.
Icannot. As much may be said of gourmand.—TransLaTor.

6 *
66 TASTE.

As long as the odious compound fills the mouth and
stuns the organ it is tolerable, but when it has been
swallowed the after drops develop themselves, nauseous
odors arise, and every feature of the patient expresses
horror and disgust, which the fear of death alone
could induce him to bear.

If the draught be on the contrary merely insipid,
as for instance a glass of water, there is neither taste
nor after taste. Nothing is felt, nothing is expe-
rienced, it is swallowed, and all is over.

ORDER OF THE IMPRESSIONS OF TASTE.

Taste is not so richly endowed as the hearing; the
latter can appreeiate and compare many sounds at
once ; the taste on the contrary is simple in its action;
that is to say it cannot be sensible to two flavors at
once.

It may though be doubled and multipled by succes-
sion, that is to say that in the act of swallowing there
may be a second and even a third sensation, each of
which gradually grows weaker and weaker and which
are designated by the words after-taste, perfume or
fragrance. Thus when a chord is struck, one ear
exercises and discharges many series of consonances,
the number of which is not as yet perfectly known.

Those who eat quickly and without attention, do
not discern impressions of the second degree. They
belong only to a certain number of the elect, and by the
means of these second sensations only can be classed
TASTE. 67

the different substances submitted to their exami-
nation.

These fugitive shadows for a long time vibrate in
the organ of taste. The professors, beyond doubt,
always assume an appropriate position, and when they
give their opinions they always do so with expanded
nostrils, and with their necks protruded far as they
can go.

ENJOYMENTS DUE TO THE TASTE.

Let us now look philosophically at the pleasure and
pain occasioned by taste.

The first thing we become convinced of is that man
is organized so as to be far more sensible of pain than
of pleasure.

In fact the imbibing of acid or bitter substances
subjects us to sensations more or less painful, accord-
ing to their degree. It is said that the cause of the
rapid effects of hydrocyanic acid is, that the pain is
so great as to be unbearable by the powers of vitality.

The scale of agreeable sensations on the other hand
is very limited, and if there be a sensible difference
between the insipid and that which flatters the taste,
the interval is not so great between the good and the
excellent. The following example proves this :—
First term a Bowillti dry and hard. Second term
a piece of veal. Third terma pheasant done to a
turn.

Of all the senses though with which we have been
68 TASTE.

endowed by nature, the taste is the one, which all
things considered, procures us the most enjoyments.

1. Because the pleasure of eating is the only one,
when moderately enjoyed, not followed by fatigue.

2. It belongs to all eras, ages and ranks.

8. Because it necessarily returns once a day, and
may without inconvenience be twice or thrice repeated
in the same day.

4. It mingles with all other pleasures, and even
consoles us for their absence.

5. Because the impressions it receives are durable
and dependant on our will.

6. Because when we eat we receive a certain
indefinable and peculiar impression of happiness
originating in instinctive conscience. When we eat
too, we repair our losses and prolong our lives.

This will be more carefully explained in the chapter
we devote to the pleasures of the table, considered as
it has been advanced by civilization.

SUPREMACY OF MAN.

We were educated in the pleasant faith that of all
things that walk, swim, crawl, or fly, man has the
most perfect taste.

This faith is liable to be shaken.

Dr. Gall, relying on I know not what examinations,
says there are many animals with the gustatory appa-
ratus more developed and extended than man’s.

This does not sound well and looks like heresy.
TASTE. 69

Man, jure divino, king of all nature, for the benefit
of whom the world was peopled, must necessarily be
supplied with an organ which places him in relation
to all that is sapid in his subjects.

The tongue of animals does not exceed their intel-
ligence; in fishes the tongue is but a movable bone,
in birds it is usually a membranous cartilage, and in
quadrupeds it is often covered with scales and asperi-
ties, and has no circumflex motion.

The tongue of man on the contrary, from the
delicacy of its texture and the different membranes
by which it is surrounded and which are near to it
announces the sublimity of the operations to which it
is destined.

I have, at least, discovered three movements un-
known to animals, which I call spication, rotation and
verration (from the Latin verb verro, I sweep). The
first is when the tongue, like a pzke, comes beyond
the lips which repress it. The second is when the
tongue rotates around all the space between the inte-
rior of the jaws and the palate. The third is when
the tongue moves up and down and gathers the parti-
cles which remain in the half circular canal formed
by the lips and gums.

Animals are limited in their taste; some live only
on vegetables, others on flesh; others feed altogether
on grain; none know anything of composite flavors.

Man is omnivorous. All that is edible is subjected
to his vast appetite, a thing which causes gustatory
70 TASTE.

powers proportionate to the use he has to make of
them. The apparatus of taste is a rare perfection of
man and we have only to see him use it to be satisfied
of it.

As soon as any esculent body is introduced into
the mouth it is confiscated hopelessly, gas, juice
and all.

The lips prevent its retrogression. The teeth take
possession of it and crush it. The salva imbibes it;
the tongue turns it over and over, an aspiration forces
it to the thorax; the tongue lifts it up to suffer it to
pass. The sense of smell perceives it en route, and
it is precipitated into the stomach to undergo ulterior
transformations, without the most minute fragment
during the whole of this escaping. Every drop every
atom has been appreciated.

In consequence of this perfection, gourmandise is
the exclusive apanage of man.

This gourmandise is even contagious, and we im-
part it without difficulty to the animals we have appro-
priated to our use, and which in a manner associate
with us, such as elephants, dogs, cats, and parrots
even.

Besides taste requiring to be estimated only by the
value of the sensation it communicates to the common
centre, the impression received by the animal cannot
be compared to that imparted to man. The latter is
more precise and clear, and necessarily supposes a °°
superior quality in the organ which transmits it.
TASTE, 71

In fine, what can we desire in a faculty susceptible
of such perfection that the gourmands of Rome
were able to distinguish the flavors of fish taken above
and below the bridge? Have we not seen in our own
time, that gourmands can distinguish the flavor of the
thigh on which the partridge lies down from the other?
Are we not surrounded by gourmets who can tell the
latitude in which any wine ripened as surely as one of
Biot’s or Arago’s disciples can foretell an eclipse?

The consequence then is that we must render to
Cesar the things which are Ceesar’s and proclaim man
the great gourmand of nature, and not be surprised
if the good Doctor does sometimes as Homer did :—
“Mud guweilen fchlafert der gute G***,”

METHOD OF THE AUTHOR.

As yet we have treated the taste only from the
physical point of view, and in some anatomical details
which none will regret, we have remained pari passit
with science. This does not however conclude the
task we have imposed on ourselves, for from its usual
attributes especially does this reparatory sense derive
its importance.

We have then arranged in analytical order the
theories and facts which compose the ensemble of
this history, so that instruction without fatigue will
result from it.

Thus in the following chapters, we will often show
how sensations by repetition and reflection have per-
72 TASTE.

fected the organs and extended the sphere of our
powers. How the want of food, once a mere instinct,
has become a passion which has assumed a marked
ascendency of all that belongs to society

We will also say, how all sciences which have to do
with the composition of substances, have agreed to
place in a separate category all those appreciable to
the taste; and how travellers have followed in the
same pathway when they placed before us substances
nature apparently never meant us to see.

We will follow chemistry to the very moment when
it penetrated our subterraneous laboratories to
enlighten our preparers, to establish principles, to
create methods and to unveil causes which had

qw-temained occult.

In fine we will see by the combined power of time
and experience that a new science has all at once
appeared, which feeds, nourishes, restores, preserves,
persuades, consoles, and not content with strewing
handsfull of flowers over the individual, contributes
much to the power and prosperity of empires.

If, amid the grave lucubrations, a piquante an-
ecdote, or an agreeable reminiscence of a stormy life
drips from my pen, we will let it remain to enable
the attention to rest for a moment, so that our readers,
the number of whom does not alarm us, may have
time to breathe. We would like to chat with them.
Tf they be men we know they are indulgent as they
TASTE. 73

are well informed. If women they must be charm-
ing.*

~™ Here the Professor, full of his subject, suffers his hand to
fall and rises to the seventh heaven.

He ascends the torrent of ages, and takes from their cradle
all sciences, the object of which is the gratification of taste.
He follows their progress through the night of time and seeing
that in the pleasures they procure us, early centures were not
so great as those which followed them: he takes his lyre and
sings in the Dorian style the elegy which will be found among
the varieties at the end of the volume.
MEDITATION III.

GASTRONOMY.

ORIGIN OF SCIENCES.

Tuer sciences are not like Minerva who started
ready armed from the brain of Jupiter. They are
children of time and are formed insensibly by the
collection of the methods pointed out by experience,
and at a later day by the principles deduced from the
combination of these methods.

- Thus old men, the prudence of whom caused them

to be called to the bed-side of invalids, whose com-
passion taught to cure wounds, were the first physi-
cians.

The shepherds of Egypt, who observed that certain
stars after the lapse of a certain period of time met
in the heavens, were the first astronomers.

The person who first uttered in simple language
the truth, 2 + 2 = 4 created mathematics, that
mighty science which really placed man on the throne
of the universe.

In the course of the last sixty years, many new

sciences have taken their place in the category of our
(74)
GASTRONOMY. 75

knowledge, among which is stéréotomy, descriptive
geometry, and the chemistry of gas.

All sciences cultivated for a long time must advance,
especially as the art of printing makes retrogression
impossible. Who knows, for instance, if the chem-
istry of gases will not ultimately overcome those, as
yet, rebellious substances, mingle and combine them
in proportions not as yet tempted, and thence obtain
substances and effects which would remove many
restrictions in our powers.

ORIGIN OF GASTRONOMY.

Gastronomy has at last appeared, and all the sister
sciences have made a way for it.

Well; what could be refused to that which sustains
us, from the cradle to the grave, which increases the
gratifications of love and the confidence of friendship
which disarms hatred and offers us, in the short pas-
sage of our lives, the only pleasure which not being
followed by fatigue makes us weary of all others.

Certainly, as long as it was confided to merely hired
attendants, as long as the secret was kept in “cellars,
and where dispensaries were written, the results were
but the products of an art.

At last, too late, perhaps, savants drew near.

They examined, analyzed, and classified alimentary
substances, and reduced them to simple elements.

They measured the mysteries of assimilation, and
76 GASTRONOMY.

following most matter in all its metamorphoses saw
how it became vivified.

They watched diet in its temporary and permanent
effects, for days, months and lives.

They even estimated its influence and thought to
ascertain if the savor be impressed by the organs or
if it acts without them. From all this they deduced
a lofty theory which embraces all mankind, and all
that portion of creation which may be animalized.

While all this was going on in the studies of savants,
it was said in drawing-rooms that the science which
fed man was at least as valuable as that which killed
him. Poets sang the pleasures of the table and books,
the object of which was good cheer, awakened the
greatest and keenest interest in the profound views
and maxims they presented.

Such were the circumstances which preceded the
invention of gastronomy.

DEFINITION OF GASTRONOMY.

Gastronomy is a scientific definition of all that
relates to man as a feeding animal.

Its object is to watch over the preservation of man
by means of the best possible food.

It does so by directing, according to certain prin-
ciples, all those who procure, search for, or prepare
things which may be converted into food.

To tell the truth this is what moves cultivators,
vine-dressers, fishermen, huntsmen, and the immense
GASTRONOMY. 77

family of cooks, whatever title or qualification they
bear, to the preparation of food.

Gastronomy is a chapter of natural history, for the
fact that it makes a classification of alimentary sub-
stances.

Of physics, for it examines their properties and
qualities.

Of chemistry, from the various analysis and decom-
position to which it subjects them.

Of cookery, from the fact that it prepares food and
makes it agreeable.

Of commerce, from the fact that it purchases at as
low a rate as possible what it consumes, and displays
to the greatest advantage what it offers for sale.

Lastly it is a chapter of political economy, from
the resources it furnishes the taxing power, and the
means of exchange it substitutes between nations.

Gastronomy rules all life, for the tears of the infant
ery for the bosom of the nurse ; the dying man receives
with some degree of pleasure the last cooling drink,
which, alas! he is unable to digest.

It has to do with all classes of society, for if it
presides over the banquets of assembled kings, it cal-
culates the number of minutes of ebullition which an
egg requires.

The material of gastronomy is all that may be
eaten; its object is direct, the preservation of indi-
viduals. Its means of execution are cultivation, which
produces; commerce, which exchanges; industry,

7%
78 GASTRONOMY.

which prepares; and experience, which teaches us to
put them to the best use.

DIFFERENT OBJECTS OF GASTRONOMY.

Gastronomy considers taste in its pleasures and in
its pains. It has discovered the gradual excitements
of which it is susceptible; it regularizes its action, and
has fixed limits, which a man who respects himself
will never pass.

It also considers the action of food or aliments on
the moral of man, on his imagination, his mind, his
judgment, his courage, and his perceptions, whether
he is awake, sleeps, acts, or reposes.

. Gastronomy determines the degree of esculence of
every alimentary subject; all are not presentable
under the same circumstances.

Some can be eaten until they are entirely developed.
Such like as capres, asparagus, sucking pigs, squabs,
and other animals eaten only when they are young.

Others, as soon as they have reached all the perfec-
tion to which they are destined, like melons, fruit,
mutton, beef, and grown animals. Others when they
begin to decompose, such as snipe, wood-cock and
pheasant. Others not until cooking has destroyed all
their injurious properties, such as the potato, manioc,
and other substances.

Gastronomy classifies all of these substances accord-
ing to their qualities, and indicates those which will
mingle, and measuring the quantity of nourishment
GASTRONOMY. 79

they contain, distinguishes those which should make
the basis of our repast, from those which are only
accessories, and others which, though not necessary,
are an agreeable relief, and become the obligato
accompaniment of convivial gossip.

It takes no less interest in the beverages intended
for us, according to time, place and climate. It
teaches their preparation and preservation, and espe-
cially presents them in an order so exactly calculated,
that the pleasure perpetually increases, until gratifica-
tion ends and abuse begins.

Gastronomy examines men and things for the pur-
pose of transporting, from one country to another, all
that deserves to be known, and which causes a well
arranged entertainment, to be an abridgement of the
world in which each portion is represented.

UTILITY OF GASTRONOMICAL KNOWLEDGE.

Gastronomical knowledge is necessary to all men,
for it tends to augment the sum of happiness. This
utility becomes the greater in proportion as it is used
by the more comfortable classes of society ; it is indis-
pensable to those who have large incomes, and enter-
tain a great deal, either because in this respect they
discharge an obligation, follow their own inclination,
or yield to fashion.

They have this special advantage, that they take
personal pleasure in the manner their table is kept ;
they can, to a certain point, superintend the deposito-
80 GASTRONOMY.

ries of their confidence, and even on many occasions
direct them.

The Prince de Soubise once intended to give an
entertainment, and asked for the bill of fare.

The maitre d’hotel came with a list surrounded by
vignettes, and the first article that met the Prince’s
eye was fifty hams. “Bertrand,” said the Prince,
“T think you must be extravagant; fifty hams! Do
you intend to feast my whole regiment ?”

“No, Prince, there will be but one on the table, and
the surplus I need for my epagnole, my blonds, garni-
tures, etc.”

“Bertrand, you are robbing me. This article will
not do.”

“* Monsigneur,” said the artist, “you do not appre-
ciate me! Give the order, and I will put those fifty
hams in a chrystal flask no longer than my thumb.”’

What could be said to such a positive operation?
The Prince smiled, and the hams were passed.

INFLUENCE OF GASTRONOMY IN BUSINESS.

In men not far removed from a state of nature, it
is well known that all important affairs are discussed
at their feasts. Amid their festivals savages decide
on war and peace; we need not go far to know that
villages decide on all public affairs at the cabinet.

This observation has not escaped those to whom the
weightiest affairs are often confided. They saw that
a full stomached individual was very different from a
GASTRONOMY 81

fasting one; that the table established a kind of
alliance between the parties, and made guests more
apt to receive certain impressions and submit to cer-
tain influences. This was the origin of political gas-
tronomy. Entertainments have become governmental
measures, and the fate of nations is decided on in a
banquet. This is neither a paradox nor a novelty
but a simple observation of fact. Open every histo-
rian, from the time of Herodotus to our own days, and
it will be seen that, not even excepting conspiracies,
no great event ever took place, not conceived, pre-
pared and arranged at a festival.

GASTRONOMICAL ACADEMY.

Such, at the first glance, appears to be the domain
of gastronomy, a realm fertile in results of every kind
and which is aggrandized by the discoveries and inven-
tions of those who cultivate it. It is certain that
before the lapse of many years, gastronomy will have
its academicians, courses, professors, and premiums.

At first some rich and zealous gastronomer will
establish periodical assemblies, in which the most
learned theorists will unite with artists, to discuss and
measure the various branches of alimentation.

Soon (such is the history of all academies) the
government will intervene, will regularise, protect, and
institute; it will seize the opportunity to reward the
people for all orphans made by war, for. all the
Arianas whose tears have been evoked by the drum.
82 GASTRONOMY.

Happy will be the depository of power who will
attach his name to this necessary institution! His
name will be repeated from age toage with that of
Noah, Bacchus, Triptolemus, and other benefactors of
humanity; he will be among ministers what Henri
IV. was among kings; his eulogy will be in every
mouth, though no regulation make it a necessity.
MEDITATION IV.

APPETITE.

DEFINITION OF APPETITE.

Motion and life occasion in the animal portion of
all that lives a constant loss of substance, and the
human body, that most complicated machine, would
soon be unfit for use, did not Providence provide it
with a mark to inform it of the very moment when its
power is no longer in equilibrium with its wants.

This monitor is appetite. By this word we under-
stand the first impression of the want of food.

Appetite declares itself by languor in the stomach,
and a slight sensation of fatigue.

The soul at the same time busies itself with things
analogous to its wants; memory recalls food that has
flattered its taste; imagination fancies that it sees
them, and something like a dream takes place. This
state is not without pleasure, and we have heard many
adepts say, with joy in their heart, “‘ What a pleasure
it is to have a good appetite, when we are certain of
a good meal.”

( 88)
84 APPETITE.

The whole nutritive apparatus is moved. The
stomach becomes sensible, the gastric juices are moved
and displace themselves with noise, the mouth becomes
moist, and all the digestive powers are under arms,
like soldiers awaiting the word of command. After a
few moments there will be spasmodic motion, pain
and hunger.

Every shade of these gradations may be observed
in every drawing-room, when dinner is delayed.

They are such in nature, that the most exquisite
politeness cannot disguise the symptoms. From this
fact I deduced the apothegm, “‘ The most inddspen-
sable quality of a good cook is promptness.”

ANECDOTE.

I will sustain this grave maxim by the details of
an observate, made at an entertainment where I
was,

“Quorum magna pars fui,”
and where the pleasures of observation preserved me
from the anguish of misery.

I was invited to dine with a high public functionary.
The hour was half past five, and at the appointed
time all were present. We knew he liked exactness,
and always scolded the dilatory.

I was amazed, when J came, at the consternation
which pervaded the party. People whispered together,
and looked into the court-yard through the window—
all betokened something extraordinary.
APPETITE. 85

I approached the one of the guests I thought best
able to satisfy my curiosity, and asked him what the
news was.

** Alas!” said they, “‘ Monsieur has been sent for
to the Council of State; he has just gone, and none
know when he will return.”

“Ts that all!” said I. “Be of good cheer, we will
be detained only a quarter of an hour; something
particular has happened. All know to-day is his
regular dinner, and we will not have to fast.” I
was not, however, easy, and wished I was away.

The first hour passed well enough, and those who
were intimate sat together. Common places were
exhausted, and conjectures were formed as to what
could have called the Prince to the Tuilleries

At the commencement of the second hour there
were many signs of impatience; people looked anxi-
ously at each other, and the first who murmured were
three or four guests who, finding no place to sit in,
were not in a convenient position to wait.

At the third hour, the discontent became general,
and every symptom became exaggerated. ‘When
will he return ?” said one. ‘ What can he be think-
ing of?” said another. ‘‘ This is death,” said a third.
This question was then put, but not determined,
‘¢ Shall we go or not ?”

At the fourth hour every symptom became aggra-
vated. People stretched ont their arms without the
slightest regard whether they interrupted their neigh-

8
86 APPETITE.

bors or not. Unpleasant sounds were heard from all
parts of the room, and everywhere the faces of the
guests bore the marks of concentration. No one
listened to me when I remarked that beyond doubt
‘our absent amphytrion was more unhappy than any
one of us.

Our attention was for a moment arrested by an
apparition. One of the guests, better acquainted
with the house than the others, had gone into the
kitchen, and returned panting. His face looked as
if the day of judgment had come, and in an almost
inarticulate voice, which announced at once both the
fear of making a noise and of not being heard, “ Mon-
signeur went away without giving any orders, and
happen what may, dinner will not be served until his
return.”

The terror caused by what he said could not be
exceeded by that to be expected at the last trump.

Among the martyrs, the most unfortunate was
D’Aigrefeuille, whom all Paris knew. His whole body
seemed to suffer, and the agony of Laocoon was
marked on his face. Pale, terrified, he saw nothing
but sank in a chair, grasped his hands on his round
stomach, and closed his eyes, not to sleep but to die.

He didnot though. About ten o’clock a carriage
drove into the yard. All were on the qui-vive and-a
arose spontaneously. Hilarity succeeded suffering,
and in five minutes we were at the table.

Appetite however was gone, all seemed amazed to
APPETITE. 87

sit down to dinner at such an unusual hour ; the jaws
had not that isochronous measure which announces a
regular business. I know many were sufferers thus.
The course to be taken is not to eat immediately
after the obstacle has ceased, but to drink a glass of
eau-sucree, or take a plate of soup to sustain the
stomach, and then in ten or fifteen minutes to begin
dinner, to prevent the stomach being oppressed by the
weight of the aliments with which it is surcharged.

GREAT APPETITES,

When we see in early books a description of the
preparations made to receive two or three persons,
and the enormous masses served up to a single guest,
we cannot refuse to think that those who lived in
early ages were gifted with great appetites.

The appetite was thought to increase in direct ratio
to the dignity of the personage. He to whom the
saddle of a five year old ox would be served was
expected to drink from a cup he could scarcely lift.

Some individuals have existed who testified to what
once passed, and have collected details of almost
incredible variety, which included even the foulest
objects.

I will not inflict these disgusting details on my
readers, and prefer to tell them two particular circum-
stances which I witnessed, and which do not require
any great exertion of faith.

About forty years ago, I made a short visit to the
88 APPETITE.

curé at Bregnier, a man of immense stature and who
had a fearful appetite.

Though it was scarcely noon I found him at the table.
Soup and bouilli had been brought on, to these two
indispensables had succeeded a leg of mutton a la
Royale, a capon and a salad.

As soon as he saw me he ordered a plate which I
refused, and rightly too. Without any assistance he
got rid of every thing, viz: he picked the bone of
mutton and ate up all the salad.

They brought htm a large white cheese into which
he made an angular breach measured by an arc of
ninety degrees. He washed down all with a bottle
of wine and glass of water, after which he laid down.

What pleased me was to see that during the whole
of this business, the venerable pastor did not seem
busy. The large mouthfulls he swallowed did not
prevent him either from laughing or talking. He
dispatched all that was put before him easily as he
would have a pair of birds.

So it was with General Bisson who drank eight
bottles of wine at dinner every day, and who never
appeared the worse for it. He had a glass larger
than usual and emptied it oftener. He did not care
for that though, for after having swallowed six ounces
of fluids he could jest and give his orders as if he had
only swallowed a thimble full.

This anecdote recalls to me my townsman, General
APPETITE. 89

P. Sibuet, long the chief aide of Napoleon, and who
was killed in 1813 at the passage of the Bober.

He was eighteen years old, and had at that time the
appetite by which nature announces that its possessor
is a perfect man, and went one night into the kitchen
of Genin, an inn keeper of Belley, where the old
men of the town used to meet to eat chestnuts and
drink the new white wine called in the country vin
bourru.

The old men were not hungry and paid no atten-
tion to him. His digestive powers were not shaken
though, and he said ‘‘I have just left the table, but
I will bet that I eat a whole turkey.”

“Tf you eat it I will pay for it,” said Bouvier du
Bouchet, a rich farmer who was present, “and if you
do not I will eat whatis left and you shall pay
for it.””*

They set to work at once, and the young athlete at
once cut off a wing, he ate it at two mouthfulls and
cleaned his teeth by gnawing the bone and drank a
glass of wine as an interlude.

He then went into the thigh which he ate and
drank another glass of wine to prepare a passage for
the rest. The second went the same way, and he
had come to the last limb when the unfortunate farmer

* This sentence is patois, and the translator inserts the
original, ‘‘Sez vosu mezé, z’u payo, répondit Bouvier du
Bouchet, gros fermier qui se trouvait présent; 6 sez vos caca
en rotaz, i-zet vo ket pairé et may ket mezerai la restaz.”’

8 *
90 APPETITE.

said, “alas! I sec it is all over, but Mr. Sibouet as
I have to pay, let me eat a bit.””*

Prosper was as good a fellow as he was a soldier,
and consented. The farmer had the carcass at spolia
optima, and paid for the fowl with a good grace,

General Sibuet used always to love to tell of this
feat of his youth. He said that his admitting the
farmer to eat was a pure courtesy, and that he could
easily have won the bet. His appetite at forty per-
mitted none to doubt the assertion.

Brillat-Savarin, says in a note, “I quote this
fragment of the patois of Bugey with pleasure. In
it is found the English th and the Greek 9, and in
the word praou and others, a dipthong existing in
no language, the sound of which no character can
describe. (See 3d volume of the memoirs of the Royal
Society of Antiquarians of France.)

* This also is patois. ‘Hai! ze vaie praow qu’izet fotu;
m’ez, monche Chibouet, poez kaet zu daive paiet, lessé m’en
am’en mesiet on mocho,”
MEDITATION V.

FOOD IN GERMS.

SECTION FIRST.

DEFINITIONS.

Wuat is understood by aliments ?

Popular answer. All that nourishes us.

Scientific answer. By aliments are understood the
substances which, when submitted to the stomach, may
be assimulated by digestion, and repair the losses
which the human body is subjected to in life.

The distinctive quality of an aliment, therefore, is
its liability to animal assimulation.

ANALYSIS.

The animal and vegetable kingdoms are those which
until now have furnished food to the human race.

Since analytical chemistry has become a certain
science, much progress has been made into the double
nature of the elements of which our body is composed,
and of the substances which nature appears to have
intended to repair their losses.

(91)
92 FOOD IN GERMS.

These studies had a great analogy, for man is to a
great degree composed both of the substances on
which animals feed, and was also forced to look in the
vegetable kingdom for affinities susceptible of animali-
zation.

In these two walks the most praiseworthy efforts
have been made always as minute as possible, and the
curious have followed either the human body or the
food which invigorates it, first to their secondary prin-
ciples, and then to their elements, beyond which we
have not been permitted to penetrate.

Here I intended to have given a little treatise on ali-
mentary chemistry, and to tell my readers, to how many
thousands of hydrogen, carbon, etc., may be reduced
the dishes that sustain us. I did not do so, however,
because I remembered I would only have to copy
many excellent treatises on chemistry in the hands of
every body. I feared, too, that I would relapse into
very barren details, and limited myself to a very rea-
sonable nomenclature, which will only require the
explanation of a small number of very usual terms.

OSMAZOME.

The greatest service chemistry has rendered to ali-
mentary science, is the discovery of osmazéme, or
rather the determination of what it was.

Osmazdme is the purely sapid portion of flesh solu-
FOOD IN GERMS. 93

ble in cold water, and separated from the extractive
portion which is only soluble in boiling water.

Osmazéme is the most meritorious ingredient of all
goodsoups. This portion of the animal forms the red
portion of flesh, and the solid parts of roasts. It gives
game and venison its peculiar flavor.

Osmazdme is most abundant in grown animals
which have red or black hair ; it is scarcely found at
allin the lamb, sucking pig, chicken, and the white
meat of the largest fowls. For this reason true con-
noisseurs always prefer the second joint ; instinct with
them was the precursor of science.

Thus a knowledge of the existence of osmazéme,
caused so many cooks to be dismissed, who insisted on
always throwing away the first boudllon made from
meat. This made the reputation of the soupe des
primes, and induced the canon Chevrier to invent
his locked kettles. The Abbe Chevrier was the per-
son who never would eat until Friday, lobsters that
had not been cooked on the previous Sunday, and
every intervening day placed on the fire with the addi-
tion of fresh butter.

To make use of this subject, though yet unknown,
was introduced the maxim, that to make good bouzllon
the kettle should only smile.

Osmazéme, discovered after having been so long
the delight of our fathers, may be compared to alco-
hol, which made whole generations drunk before it
was simply exhibited by distillation.
94 FOOD IN GERMS.

PRINCIPLE OF ALIMENTS.

The fibre is what composes the tissue of the meat,
and what is apparent after the juices have been
extracted. The fibres resist boiling water, and pre-
serve their form, though stripped of a portion of their
wrappings. To carve meat properly the fibres should
be cut at right angles, or nearly so, with the blade of
the knife. Meat thus carved looks better, tastes
better, and is more easily chewed.

The bones are composed principally of gelatine and
the phosphate of lime.

The quantity of gelatine diminishes as we grow
older. At seventy the bones are but an imperfect
marble, the reason why they are so easily broken,
and why old men should carefully avoid any fall.

Albumen is found both in the flesh and the blood.
It coagulates at a heat above 40 Réaumur, and causes
the scum on the pot-au-feu.

Gelatine is also found in the bones, the soft and the
cartilaginous parts. Its distinctive quality is to coagu-
late at the ordinary temperature of the atmosphere;
to effect this only two and a half per cent. are
needed. 7

Gelatine is the basis of all jelleys, of blane manges,
and other similar preparations.

Grease is a concrete oil formed in the interstices of
the cellary tissue. It sometimes agglomerates in
animals whom art or nature has so predisposed, such
FOOD IN GERMS. 95

as pigs, fowls, ortolans and snipe. In some of these
animals it loses its insipidity and acquires a slight and
agreeable aroma.

Blood is composed of an albuminous serum and of
fibrine, some gelatine and a little osmazdme. It
coagulates in warm water and is most nourishing,
(e. g.) the blood pudding.

All the principles, we have passed in review, are
common to man and to animals which feed.

All-the principles we pass in review are common
both ‘to man and animals which he eats. It is not
then surprising that animal food is eminently restora-
tive and invigorating. The particles of which it is
composed having a great similitude with those of
which we are formed may easily be animalized when
they are subjected to the vital action of our digestive
organs.

VEGETABLE KINGDOM.

The vegetable kingdom however presents not less
varied sources of nutrition.

The fecula is especially nutritious, especially as it
contains fewer foreign principles.

By fecula we mean farina or flower obtained from
cereals, from legumes and various kinds of roots,
among which the potato holds a prominent place.

The fecula is the substance of bread, pastry and
purées of all kinds. It thus enters to a great degree
into the nourishment of almost all people.
96 FOOD IN GERMS.

Such food diminishes the fibres and even the cour-
age.* We must, to sustain this, refer to the Indians
(East) who live on rice and serve every one who choses
to command them.

Almost all domestic animals eat the fecula, and are
made by it extremely strong; for it is a more substan-
tial nourishment than the dry and green vegetables
which are their habitual food.

Sugar is not less important, either as a remedy or
as an aliment. 5

This substance once obtained, either from the Indies
or from the colonies became indigenous at the com-
mencement of this century. It has been discovered
in the grape, the turnip, the chestnut, and especially
in the beet. So that speaking strictly Hurope need
appeal neither to India or America for it. Its disco-
very was a great service rendered by science to
humanity, and furnishes an example which cannot
but have the happiest results. (Vide enfro Sugar.)

Sugar, either in a solid state or in the different
plants in which nature has placed it, is extremely
nourishing. Animals are fond of it, and the English
give large quantities to their blood-horses, and have
observed that it sustained them in the many trials to
which they were subjected.

* The H. E. I. Co. Sepoys, however, fight well. It may be
doubted though if either Ireland or Italy will be free, until the
one gives up the potato and the other macaroni. The reason
why Irishmen fight better in other countries than their own,
is possibly that abroad they are better fed than at home.
FOOD IN GERMS. 97

Sugar in the days of Louis XIV. was only found
in apothecary shops, and gave birth to many lucrative
professions, such as pastry-cooks, confectioners, liquor-
ists, Ke.

Mild oils also come from the vegetable kingdom.
They are all esculent, but when mingled with other sub-
stances they should be looked on only as a seasoning.

Gluten found in the greatest abundance in cheese,
contributes greatly to the fermentation of the bread
with which it is united. Chemists assign it an animal
nature.

They make at Paris for children and for birds, and
in some of the departments for men also, patisserzes
in which gluten predominates, the fecula having been
removed by water. :

Mucilage owes its nourishments to the many sub-
stances of which it is the vehicle.

Gum may be considered an aliment, not a strong
thing, as it contains nearly the same elements as
sugar.

Vegetable gelatine, extracted from many kinds of
fruits, especially from apples, goose-berries, quinces,
and some others, may also be considered a food. It
is more nutritious when united with sugar, but it is
far inferior in that respect to what is extracted from
bones, horns, calves’ feet and fish. This food is in
general light, mild and healthy. The kitchen and the
pharmaceutist’s laboratory therefore dispute about it.

9
98 FOOD IN GERMS.

DIFFERENCE BETWEEN FAT AND LEAN.

Next to the juice, which, as we have said, is com-
posed of asmazéme and the extractus, there are found
in fish many substances which also exist in land ani-
mals, such as fibrine, gelatine, albumen. So that we
may really say juice distinguishes the flesh diet from
what the church calls mazgre. :

The latter too has another peculiarity, Fish con-
tains a large quantity of phosphorus and hydrogen,
that is to say of the two most combustible things in
nature. Fish therefore is a most heating diet. This
might legitimate the praise once bestowed on certain
religious orders, the regime of whom was directly
opposed to the commonly estcemed most fragile.

INDIVIDUAL INSTANCE.

I will say no more on this physiological fact, but
will not omit an instance which may be easily verified.

Some years ago I went to a country house, in the
vicinity of Paris, and on the Seine, near St. Denis,
near a hamlet composed chiefly of fishing huts. I
was amazed at the crowd of huts I saw swarming in
the road.

I remarked it with amazement to the boatman who
took me across the river.

‘* Monsieur,” said he, “we have eight families here,
have fifty-three children, among whom are forty-nine
girls and four boys. That one is mine.” As he
>

FOOD IN GERMS. 99

spoke he pointed triumphantly to a little whelp, of
about five years of age, who was at the bow of the
boat eating raw craw-fish.

From this observation I made ten years ago, and
others I could easily recall, I have been led to think
that the genesiac sense is moved by fish-eating, and
that it is rather irritating than plethoric and substan-
tial. Iam inclined to maintain this opinion the more,
because Doctor Bailly has recently proved, by many
instances, that when ever the number of female child-
ren exceeds the male, the circumstance is due to some
debilitating circumstances. This will account to us
for the jests made from the beginning of time, when-
ever a man’s wife bears him a daughter instead of a
son.

I might say much about aliments considered as a
tout ensemble, and about the various modifications they
undergo by mixing, etc.; I hope, though, that the
preceding will suffice to the majority of readers. I
recommend all others to read some book ez professo,
and will end with the things which are not without
interest.

The first is that animalization is affected almost as
vegetation is, that is that the reparative current formed
by digestion, is inhaled in various manners by the
tubes with which the organs are provided, and becomes
flesh, nails, hair, precisely as earth, watered by the
same fluid, becomes radish, lettuce, potato,—as the
gardener pleases.
100 FOOD IN GERMS.

The second is that in the organization of life, the
same elements which chemistry produces are not
obtained. The organs destined to produce life and
motion only act on what is subjected to them.

Nature, however, loves to wrap herself in veils, and
to stop us at every advance, and has concealed the
laboratory where new transformations are affected.
It is difficult to explain how, having determined that
the human body contained lime, sulphur, and _phos-
phorous iron, and the other substances, all this can be
renewed every ten years by bread and water.
MEDITATION VI.

FOOD IN GERMS.

SECTION SECOND,

SPECIALITIES.

Wuen I began to write, my table of contents wag
already prepared; I have advanced slowly, however,
because a portion of my time is consecrated to serious
labors. ,

During this interval of time much of my matter has
escaped my memory, or been wrested from me. Ele-
mentary books on chemistry or materia medica have
been put into the hands of every body, and things I
expected to teach for the first time, have become
popular. For instance, I had devoted many pages to
the chemistry of the pot-au-feu, the substance of
which is found in many books recently published.

Consequently, I had to revise this part of my book,
and have so condensed it that it is reduced to a few
elementary principles, to theories which cannot be
too widely propagated, and to sundry observations,
the fruits of a long experience, which I trust will be
new to the majority of my readers.

g* (101 )
102 FOOD IN GERMS.

§I. POT-AU-FEU, POTAGE, ETC.

Pot-au-feu is a piece of beef, intended to be cooked
in boiling water, slightly salted so as to extract all the
soluble parts.

Bouillon is the fluid which remains after the ope-
ration.

Bouillé is the flesh after it has undergone the ope-
ration.

Water dissolves at first a portion of the osmazéme ;
then the albumen coagulates at 50 degrees Réeaumur,
and forms the foam we see. The rest of the osma-
zOme, with the extractive part of juice, and finally a
portion of the wrapping of the fibres detached by the
continuity of ebullition.

To have good bouillon, the water must be heated
slowly, and the ebullition must be scarcely perceptible,
so that the various particles necessarily dissolved, may
unite ultimately and without trouble.

It is the custom to add to bouillon, vegetable or
roots, to enhance the taste, and bread or patés to
make it more nourishing. Then it is what is called
potage.

Potage is a healthy food, very nourishing, and suits
every body; it pleases the stomach and prepares it
for reception and digestion. Persons threatened with
obesity should take bouillon alone.

All agree that no where is potage made so well as
in France, and in my travels I have been able to con-
FOOD IN GERMS. 103

firm this assertion. Potage is the basis of French
national diet, and the experience of centuries has per-
fected it.

§ Il. BOUILLI.

Bouilli is a healthful food, which satisfies hunger
readily, is easily digested, but which when eaten alone
restores strength to a very small degree, because in
ebullition the meat has lost much of its animalizable
juices.

We include in four categories the persons who eat
bouilli.

1. Men of routine, who eat it because their fathers
did, and who, following this practice implicitly, expect
to be imitated by their children.

2. Impatient men, who, abhorring inactivity at the
table, have contracted the habit of attacking at once
whatever is placed before them.

3. The inattentive, who eat whatever is put before
them, and look upon their meals as a labor they have
to undergo. All that will sustain them they put on
the same level, and sit at the table as the oyster does
in his bed.

4. The voracious, who, gifted with an appetite which
they seek to diminish, seek the first victim they can
find to appease the gastric juice, which devours them,
and wish to make it serve as a basis to the different
envois they wish to send to the same destination.
10-4 FOOD IN GERMS.

Professors of gastronomy never eat bouilli, from
respect to the principles previously announced, that
bouilli is flesh without the juices.*

§ III. FOWLS.

I am very fond of second courses, and devoutly
believe that the whole gallinaceous family was made
to enrich our larders and to deck our tables.

From the quail to the turkey, whenever we find a
fowl of this class, we are sure to find too, light aliment,
full of flavor, and just as fit for the convalescent as
for the man of the most robust health.

Which one of us, condemned to the fare of the
fathers of the desert, would not have smiled at the
idea of a well-carved chicken’s wing, announcing his
rapid rendition to civilized life ?

We are not satisfied with the flavor nature has given
to gallinaceous fowls, art has taken possession of
them, and under the pretext of ameliorating, has
made martyrs of them. They have not only been
deprived of the means of reproduction, but they have
been kept in solitude and darkness, and forced to eat
until they were led to an unnatural state of fatness.

It is very true that this unnatural grease is very
delicious, and that this damnable skill gives them the

*This idea which began to make its impression on bouilli
has disappeared. It is replaced by a roasted filet, a turbot, or
a matelote.
FOOD IN GERMS. 105

fineness and succulence which are the delight of our
best tables.

Thus ameliorated, the fowl is to the kitchen what
the canvass is to painters. To charlatans it is the
cap of Fortunatus, and is served up boiled, roasted,
fried, hot, cold, whole or dismembered, with or with-
out sauce, broiled, stuffed, and always with equal
success.

Three portions of old France disputed for the honor
of furnishing the best fowls, viz: Caux, Mans, and
Bresse.

In relation to capons, and about this there is some
doubt, the one on the table always seeming the best.
Bresse seems, however, to have pre-eminence in pul-
lets, for they are round as an apple. It isa pity they
are so rare in Paris !

§ Iv. THE TURKEY.

The turkey is certainly one of the most glorious
presents made by the new world to the old.

Those persons who always wish to know more than
others, say that the turkey was known to the ancients,
and was served up at the wedding feast of Charle-
magne. They say it is an error to attribute the
importation to the Jesuits. To these paradoxes but
two things can be opposed:

Ist. The name of the bird proves its origin, for at
one time America was called the West Indies.

2d. The form of the bird is altogether foreign.
106 FOOD IN GERMS.

A well informed man cannot be mistaken about-it.

Though already perfectly satisfied, I made much
deep research in the matter. I will not inflict my
studies on my readers, but will only give them the
results :

1. The turkey appeared in Europe about the end
of the seventeenth century. :

2. That it was imported by the Jesuits who sent
a large number especially to a farm they had near
Bouges.

3. That thence they spread gradually over France,
and in many localities a turkey to this day is called a
Jesuit.

4. Only in America has the turkey been found in
a wild state, (it is unknown in Africa.)

5. That in the farms of North America, where it
is very common, it has two origins, either from eggs
which have been found and hatched or from young
turkeys caught in the woods. The consequence is they
are in a state of nature and preserve almost all their
original plumage.

Overcome by this evidence I bestow on the good
fathers a double portion of gratitude, for they im-
ported the Quinquina yet known as “ Jesuit’s bark.”

The same researches informed us that the turkey
gradually became acclimated in France. Well in-
formed observers have told me that about the middle
of the last century of twenty young turkeys scarcely
ten lived, while now fourteen out of every twenty
FOOD IN GERMS. 107

mature. The spring rains are most unfortunate to
them ; the large drops of rain striking on their tender
heads destroy them.

2 DINDONOPHILES.

The turkey is the largest, and if not the finest, at
least the most highly flavored of the gallinaceous
family.

It has also the advantage of collecting around it
every class of society.

When the virgin dresses, and farmers of our coun-
tries wish to regale themselves in the long winter
evenings, what do they roast before the fire of the
room in which the table is spread? a turkey.

When the mechanic, when the artist, collects a few
friends to enjoy a relief which is the more grateful
because it is the rarer; what is one of the dishes
always put on the table? a turkey stuffed with
Lyons sausage and with chestnuts of Lyons.

In the highest gastronomical circles, in the most
select reunions, where politics yield to dissertations on
the taste, for what do people wait? What do they
wish for? a dinde truffé at the second course. My
secret memoirs tell me that its flavor has more than
once lighted up most diplomatic faces.

FINANCIAL INFLUENCE OF THE TURKEY.

The importation of turkeys became the cause of a
great addition to the public fortune, and occasioned a
very considerable commerce.
108 FOOD IN GERMS.

By raising turkeys the farmers were able the more
surely to pay their rents. Young girls often acquired
avery sufficient dowry, and towns-folk who wished
to eat them had to pay round prices for them.

In a purely financial point of view turkeys demand
much attention.

T have reason to believe, that between the first of
November and the end of February, three hundred
dindon truffées are consumed per diem. The sum
total is 80,000 turkeys.

The price of every turkey in that condition is at
least twenty francs, and the sum of the whole is not
less than 720,000 francs—a very pretty sum of money.
One must add a similar sum for the fowls, pheasants,
pullets and partridges, suffered in the same way, and
which are every day exhibited in the provision shops,
as a punishment for beholders who are too poor to
buy them.

EXPLOIT OF THE PROFESSOR.

While I was living at Hartford, in Connecticut, I
was lucky enough to kill a wild turkey. This exploit
deserves to be transmitted to posterity, and I tell it
with especial complaisance as I am myself the hero.

An American farmer had invited me to hunt on his
grounds; he lived in the remotest part of the State,*

* Brillat-Savarin uses the French words “derriéres de
?etat” and translates them in English, in parenthesis “ Back-
woods.”
FOOD IN GERMS. 109

and promised me partridges, grey squirrels and wild
turkeys.* He also permitted me to bring a friend or
two if I pleased.

One fine day in October, 1794, therefore, with a
friend, I set out with the hope of reaching the farm
of Mr. Bulow, five mortal leagues from Hartford,
before night.

Though the road was hardly traced, we arrived
there without accident, and were received with that
cordial hospitality expressed by acts, for before we
had been five minutes on the farm, dogs, horses and
men were all suitably taken care of.

About two hours were consumed in the examination
of the farm and its dependencies. I would describe
all this if I did not prefer to display to the reader
the four buxom daughters of Mr. Bulow, to whom
our arrival was a great event.

Their ages were from sixteen to twenty-four, and
there was so much simplicity in their persons, so
much activity and abandon, that every motion seemed
full of grace.

After our return from walking we sat around a
well furnished table. A superb piece of corned beef,
a stewed goose, and a magnificent leg of mutton,
besides an abundance of vegetables and two large
jugs of cider, one at each end of the table, made up
our bill of fare.

* He also translates in the same manner “ dindes sauvages”’

welp cocks.
10
110 FOOD IN GERMS.

When we had proven to our host, that in appetite
at least, we were true huntsmen, we began to make
arrangements for our sport. He told us where we
would find game, and gave us land-marks to guide us
on our return, not forgetting farm-houses where we
could obtain refreshments.

During this conversation the ladies had prepared
excellent tea, of which we drank several cups, and
were then shown into a room with two beds, where
exercise and fatigue procured us a sound sleep.

On the next day we set out rather late, and having
come to the end of the clearings made by Mr. Bulow,
I found myself in a virgin forest for the first time.
The sound of the axe had never been heard there.

I walked about with delight, observing the
blessings and ravages of time which creates and
destroys, and I amused myself by tracing all the
periods on the life of an oak since the moment when
its two leaves start from the ground, until it leaves
but a long black mark which is the dust of its heart.

My companion, Mr. King, reproached me for my
moodiness, and we began the hunt. We killed first
some of those pretty grey partridges which are so
round and so tender. We then knocked down six or
seven grey squirrels, highly esteemed in America,
and at last were fortunate enough to find a flock of
turkeys.

They rose one after the other, flying rapidly and
crying loudly. Mr. King fired on the first and ran
FOOD IN GERMS. 111

after it. The others were soon out of shot. The
most sluggish of all arose at last, not ten paces from
me. It flew through an opening, I fired and it fell
dead.

One must be a sportsman to conceive the extreme
pleasure this shot caused me. I siezed on the superb
bird and turned it over and over for a quarter of an
hour, until I heard my companion’s voice calling for
assistance. I hurried to him and found that he called
me to aid him in looking for a turkey he claimed to
have killed, but which had disappeared.

I put my dog on the scent but he led us into an
under growth, so thick and thorny that a snake could
scarcely penetrate it; I had then to give up the
search, and my companion was in a bad humor all
day long.

The rest of the day scarcely deserves the honors
of printing. On our return we lost ourselves in
boundless woods, and we were in not a little danger
of having to stay out all night, when the silvery tones
of Mr. Bulow’s daughters, and the deep bass of their
father, who had come to look for us, guided us home.

The four sisters were fully armed with clean
dresses, new ribbons, pretty hats, and so carefully
shod that it was evident that they had formed a high
opinion of us. I tried to make myself agreeable to
the one of the ladies who took my arm, a thing she
did as naturally as if it had belonged to her jure con-
jugali.
112 FCOD IN GERMS.

a

When we reached the farm supper was ready, but
before we sat down to the table we drew near to a
bright and brilliant fire which had been lighted for
us, though the season did not indicate that such a
precaution was necessary. We found it very com-
fortable, fatigued as we were, and were rested as if
by enchantment.

This custom doubtless comes from the Indians who
always have a fire in their huts. It may be, this is a
tradition of St. Francis de Sales, who said that fire
was good eleven months of the year (non liquet).

We ate as if we were famished; a large bowl of
punch enabled us to finish the evening, and a conver-
sation, which our host made perfectly free, led us far
into the night.

We spoke of the war of Independence, in which
Mr. Bulow* had served as a field officer of M. de
La Fayette, who every day becomes greater in the
eyes of the Americans, who always designate him as
“the Marquis’ of agriculture, which at that time
enriched the United States, and finally of my native
land, which I loved the more because I was forced to
leave it.

When wearied of conversation the father would
say to his eldest daughter, ‘‘ Maria, give us a song.”
She without any embarrassment sung the American

* The M. Bulow of whom Savarin speaks, is none other
than Lieut. Col, Bellows of the Conneotiout Line, many of
whose relations yet remain in the Valley of the Connecticut.
FOOD IN GERMS. 113

national airs. The complaints of Mary Stuart and
of André, all popular in America. Maria had taken
a few lessons, and in that remote country passed
for a virtuosa; her singing though, derived its charm
from the quality of her voice, which was at once clear,
fresh and accentuated.

On the next day, in spite of Mr. Bulow’s persua-
sions, we set out. I had duties to discharge; and
while the horses were being prepared, Mr. Bulow took
me aside and used these remarkable words.

‘You see in me, sir, a happy man, if there be one
under heaven ; all that you see here is derived from
my own property. My stockings were knit by my
daughters, and my cloths were furnished by my flocks.
They also, with my garden, furnish me with an
abundance of healthy food. The greatest eulogium
of our government is, that in the State of Connec-
ticut there are a thousand farmers as well satisfied as
I am, the doors of whom have no locks.

‘« Taxes are almost nothing, and as long as they be
paid any one can sleep calmly. Congress favors
national industry as much as it can, and merchants
are always ready to take from us whatever we wish to
sell. I have ready money for a long time, for I have
just sold at twenty-four dollars a barrel, flour I usually
receive eight for.

«All this is derived from the liberty we have
acquired, and established on good laws. I am master
of my own house; and you will not be astonished when

10 *
114 FOOD IN GERMS.

you know that we never fear the sound of the drum,
and, except on the 4th of July, the glorious anniver-
sary of our Independence, neither soldiers, uniforms,
nor bayonets are seen.”

On my way back I seemed absorbed by profound
reflection. Perhaps the reader may think I mused
‘on my host’s parting words; I had very different
thoughts, however, for I was studying how I should
cook my turkey. I was in some trouble, for I feared
I would not find all I needed at Hartford, and wished
to make a trophy of my spolia opima.

I make a painful sacrifice in suppressing the details
of the profound science I exhibited in the preparation
of an entertainment, to which I invited several friends.
Suffice it to say that the partridge wings were served
en papillote, and the grey squirrels stewed in madeira.

The turkey, which was our only roast dish, was
charming to the sight, flattering to the sense of smell,
and delicious to taste. Therefore, until the last frag-
ment was eaten, there were heard around the table,
“Very good;” “Exceedingly good ;” “Dear sir;
what a nice piece.”*

* The flesh of the wild turkey is more highly colored and
more perfumed than the domestic fowl.

Tam glad to learn that my amiable colleague, M. Bose, had
killed many in Carolina, which he found excellent, and far
better than those in Europe. He therefore recommends that
they be allowed the largest liberty, that they be driven into
the woods and ficlds, to enhance the flavor and bring it as
FOOD IN GERMS. 115

§v. GAME.

By game we mean all wild animals which are fit to
eat, and live in a state of natural liberty.

We say fit to eat, because many animals which are
in a state of nature are not fit to eat. Such as foxes,
crows, pies, wild-cats, etc. They are called in French
Betes puantes vermin.

Game is divided into three series.

The first contains all birds, from the grive to the
smallest of the feathered tribe.

The second ascends from the rail to the snipe, part-
ridge, and pheasant, including the rabbit and the hare ;
it is divided into three categories, of the marsh, hairy,
and feathered.

The third, which bears the name of venison, is com-
posed of the wild-boar, kid, and all other horny-footed
cattle.

Game is one of the great luxuries of our tables ; it
is a healthy, warm, highly-flavored and high tasted
flesh, easily digested, whenever one is hungry.

These qualities, however, are not so inherent as not
to a certain degree to depend on the skill of the cook.
Put some water, salt and beef into a pot, and you can
obtain from them a very good soup. Substitute venison
for the beef, and the result will not be fit to eat.
Butcher’s meat, in this respect, has the advantage.

nearly as possible back to the original species.—Annales
d@’ Agriculture cah. du 28 Fevr, 1821.
116 FOOD IN GERMS.

Under the manipulation, however, of a skilful cook,
game undergoes various modifications and transforma-
tions, and furnishes the greater portions of the dishes
of the transcendental kitchen.

Game derives, also, a great portion of its value from
the soil on which it is fed.. The taste of a Perigord
partridge is very different from that of one from
Sologne, and the hare killed in the vicinity of Paris
is a very different dish from one shot on the hills of
Valromey or upper Dauphiny. The latter is probably
the most perfumed of all beasts.

Among small birds, beyond all doubt, the best is
the “ beceafico.”

It becomes at least as fat as the red-throat or the
ortolan, and nature has besides given it a slight bit-
terness, and a peculiar and exquisite perfume, which
enables it to fill and delight all the gustatory organs.
Were the beccafico as large as a pheasant, an acre of
land would be paid for it.

It is a pity this bird is so rare, that few others than
those who live in the southern departments of France,
know what it is.*

Few people know how to eat small birds. The fol-
lowing method was imparted confidentially to me by
the Canon Charcot, a gourmand by profession, and a
perfect gastronome, thirty years before the word gas-
tronomy was invented :

*Tam inclined to think the bird is utterly unknown in
“America.— TRANSLATOR.
FOOD IN GERMS. 117

Take a very fat bird by the bill and sprinkle it with
salt, take out the entrailles, I mean gizzard, liver,
etc., and put it whole in your mouth. Chew it quickly,
and the result will be a juice abundant enough to per-
meate the whole organ. You will then enjoy a plea-
sure unknown to the vulgar.

“ Odi profanum vulgus et arceo.”
Horace,

The quail*of all game properly so-called, is the
nicest and the most pleasant. A very fat quail is
pleasant both to eat, see, and smell. Whenever it is
either roasted, or served en papillote, a great folly is
committed, because its perfume is very volatile, and
when ever in contact with a liquid, its flavor is dis-
solved and lost.

The snipe is a charming bird, but few people know
all its charms. It is im its glory only when it has
been cooked under the huntsman’s eyes; and the
huntsman must have killed it. Then the roast is per-
fected according to rule, and the mouth is inundated
with pleasure. :

Above the preceding, and above all others, the
pheasant should be placed. Few mortals, however,
know exactly how to cook it.

A pheasant eaten only a week after its death is not
good as a partridge or a pullet, for its merit consists
in its aroma.

Science has considered the expansion of this aroma,
118 FOOD IN GERMS.

experience has utilised science, so that a pheasant
ready for the spit is a dish fit for the most exalted
gourmands.

In the varieties will be found a recipe for roasting
a pheasant, a la Sainte Alliance. The time has come
when this method, hitherto concentrated in a small
circle of friends, should be made known for the benefit
of humanity. A pheasant with truffles is not good
as one would be apt to think it. The bird is too dry
to actuate the tubercle, and the scent of the one and
the perfume of the other when united neutralize each
other—or rather do not suit.

§ VI. FISH.

Savants, in other respects orthodox, have main-
tained that ocean was the common cradle of all that
exists, and that man himself sprang from the sea and
owes his actual habits to the influence of the air, and
the mode of life he has been obliged to adopt.

Be this as it may, it is at least certain, that the
waters contain an immense quantity of beings of all
forms and sizes, which possess vitality in very different
proportions, and according to mode very different
from that of warm blooded animals.

It is not less true that water has ever presented an
immmense variety of aliments, and that in the present
state of science it introduces to our table the most
agreeable variety.

Fish, less nutritious than flesh and more succulent
FOOD IN GERMS. 119

than vegetables, is a mezzo termine, which suits all
temperments and which persons recovering from
illness may safely eat.

The Greeks and Romans, though they had not
made as much progress as we have in the art of
seasoning fish, esteemed it very highly, and were so
delicate that they could even tell where it had been
taken.

Large fish ponds were mantained, and the cruelty
of Vellius Pollis who fed his lampreys on the bodies
of slaves he caused to be slain is well known. This
cruelty Domitian disapproved of but should have
punished.

There has been much discussion as to which is the
best fish.

The question will never be decided, for as the
Spanish proverb says, sobre los gustos, no hat disputa.
Every one is effected in his own way. These fugitive
sensations can be expressed by no known character,
and there is no scale to measure if a cat-fish(!), a sole,
or a turbot are better than a salmon, trout, pike, or
even tench of six or seven pounds.

It is well understood that fish is less nourishing
than meat, because it contains no osmazdme, because
it is lighter in weight, and contains less weight in the
same volume. Shell-fish, and especially oysters,
furnish little nutrition, so that one can eat a great
many without injury.

It will be remembered that not long ago any well
120 FOOD IN GERMS

arranged entertainment began with oysters, and that
many guests never paused without swallowing a gross
(144). I was anxious to know the weight of this
advance guard, and I ascertained that a dozen oysters,
fluid included, weighed four ounces averdupois. Now
I look on it as certain that the same persons who did
not make a whit the worse dinner, on account of the
oysters would have been completely satisfied if they
had eaten the same weight of flesh or of chicken.

ANECDOTE,

In 1798 I was at Versailles as a commissary of the
Directory, and frequently met M. Laperte, greffier of
the count of the department. He was very fond of
oysters, and used to complain that he had never had
enough.

I resolved to procure him this satisfaction, and
invited him to dine with me on the next day.

He came. I kept company with him to the tenth
dozen, after which I let him go on alone. He man-
aged to eat thirty-two dozen within an hour, for the
person who opened them was not very skilful.

In the interim, I was idle, and as that is always a
painful state at the table, I stopped him at the mo-
ment when he was in full swing. ‘Mon cher,” said
I, “you will not to-day eat as many oysters as you
meant—let us dine. We did so, and he acted as if he
had fasted for a week.
FOOD IN GERMS. 121

MURIA—-GARUM.

The ancients extracted from fish two highly flavored
seasonings, muria and garum.

The first was the juice of the thuny, or to speak
more precisely, the liquid substance which salt causes
to flow from the fish.

Garum was dearer, and we know much less of it.
It is thought that it was extracted by pressure from
the entrailles of the scombra or mackerel; but this
supposition does not account for its high price. There
is reason to believe it was a foreign sauce, and was
nothing else but the Indian soy, which we know to be
only fish fermented with mushrooms.

Certainly, people from their locality are forced to
live almost entirely upon fish. They also feed their
working animals with it, and the latter from custom
gradually grow to like this strange food. They also
manure the soil with it, yet always receive the same
quantity from the sea which surrounds them.

It has been observed that such nations are not s0
courageous as those that eat flesh. They are pale,
a thing not surprising, for the elements of fish must
rather repair the lymph than the blood.

Among ichthyophages, remarkable instances of lon-
gevity are observed, either because light food pre-
serves them from plethora, or that the juices it con-
tains being formed by nature only to constitute

cartilages which never bears long duration, their use
11
122 FOOD IN GERMS.

retards the solidification of the parts of the body
which, after all, is the cause of death.

Be this as it may, fish in the hands of a skilful cook
is an inexhaustible source of enjoyment. It is served
up whole, in pieces, truncated with water, oil, vinegar,
warm, cold; and is always well received. It is, how-
ever never better than when dressed en matzlotte.

This ragout, though made a necessary dish to the
boatmen on our rivers, and made in perfection only
by the keepers of cobarets on their banks, is incom-
parably good. Lovers of fish never see it without
expressing their gratification, either on account of its
freshness of taste, or because they can without diffi-
culty eat an indefinite quantity, without any fear of
satiety or indigestion.

Analytical gastronomy has sought to ascertain what
are the effects of a fish diet on the animal system.
Unanimous observation leads us to think that it has
great influence on the genesiac sense, and awakens the
instinct of reproduction in the two sexes.

This effect being once known, two causes were at
once assigned for it:

1st. The different manner of preparing fish, all the
seasoning for it being irritating, such as carar, her-
ing, thon mariné, ete.

2d. The various juices the fish imbibes, which are
highly inflammable and oxigenise in digestion.

Profound analysis has discovered a yet more power-
FOOD IN GERMS. 123

ful cause: the presence of phosphorous in all the por-
tions, and which decomposition soon developes.

These physical truths were doubtless unknown to
the ecclesiastical legislators, who imposed the lenten
diet on different communities of monks, such as Char-
treux, Recollets, Trappists, and the Carmelites
reformed by Saint Theresa; no one thinks that they
wished to throw a new difficulty into the way of the
observance of the already most anti-social vow of
chastity.

In this state of affairs, beyond doubt, glorious vic-
tories were won, and rebellious senses were subjected ;
there were, however, many lapses and defeats. They
must have been well averred, for the result was the
religious orders had ultimately a reputation like that
of Hercules and the daughters of Danaus, or Marshal
Saxe with Mlle Lecouvreur.

They might also have been delighted by an anec-
dote, so old as to date from the crusades.

Sultan Saladin being anxious to measure the conti-
nence of devises, took two into his palace, and for a
long time fed them on the most succulent food.

Soon all traces of fasting began to disappear, and
they reached a very comfortable embonpoint. At
that time they were given as companions two
odalisques of great beauty, all of whose well-directed
attacks failed, and they came from the ordeal pure as
the diamond of Visapor.

The Sultan kept them in his palace, and to celebrate
124 FOOD IN GEKMs.

their triumph fed them for several weeks on fish
alone.

After a few days they were again submitted to the
ordeal of the odalisques, and. ....----

In the present state of our knowledge, it is proba-
ble that if the course of events were to establish any
monastic order, the superiors would adopt some
regimen better calculated to maintain its objects.

PHILOSOPHICAL REFLECTION.

Fish, considered in general, is an inexhaustible
source of reflection to the philosopher.

The varied forms of these strange animals, the
senses they are deprived of, and the limited nature of
those they have, their various modes of existence, the
influence exerted over them by the medium in which
they live, move, and breathe, extend the range of our
ideas and the indefinite modifications which result
from their nature, motions and lives.

For my part, I entertain to them a sentiment very
like respect, resulting from my belief that they belong
to antediluvian races. The great convulsion which
doomed our ancestors, in the eighteenth century of
the world, to fish was a season of joy, triumph and
festivity.

§ VII. TRUFFLES.

f

Who ever says truffle, pronounces a great word,
which awakens eratic and gourmand ideas both in the
FOOD IN GERMS. 125

sex dressed in petticoats and in the bearded portion
of humanity.

This honorable duplication results from the fact
that the tubercle is not only delicious to the taste, but
that it excites a power the exercise of which is accom-
panied by the most delicious pleasures.

The origin of the truffle is unknown; they are
found, but none know how they vegetate. The most
learned men have sought to ascertain the secret, and
fancied they discovered the seed. Their promises,
however, were vain, and no planting was ever followed
by a harvest. This perhaps is all right, for as one
of the great values of truffles is their dearness, per-
haps they would be less highly esteemed if they were
cheaper.

“Rejoice, my friend,” said I, “‘a superb lace is
about to be manufactured at a very low price.”

‘“ Ah!” replied she, “ think you, if it be cheap, that
any one would wear it 2”

ERATIC VIRTUE OF TRUFFLES.

The Romans were well acquainted with the truffle,
but I do not think they were acquainted with the
French variety. Those which were their delight were
obtained from Greece and Africa, and especially
from Libia. The substance was pale, tinged with
rose, and the Libian truffles were sought for as being
far the most delicate and highly perfumed.

satel eae “ Gustus elementa per omnia querunt.”
JUVENAL,

11*
126 FOOD IN GERMS.

From the Romans to our own time, there was a
long interregnum, and the resurrection of truffles is an
event of recent occurrence. I have read many old
books, in which there is no allusion to them. The
generation for which I write may almost be said to
Witness its resurrection.

About 1780 truffles were very rare in Paris, and
they were to be had onlyin small quantities at the
Hotel des Americans, and at the Hotel de Province.
A dindon truffée was a luxury only seen at the tables
of great nobles and of kept women.

We owe their abundance to dealers in comestibles,
the number of whom has greatly increased, and who,
seeing that their merchandise was popular, had it
sought for throughout the kingdom. Sending for it
by either the mail or by couriers, they made its search
general. As truffles cannot be planted, careful search
alone can obtain it.

At the time I write (1825) the glory of the truffle is
at its apogée. Let no one ever confess that he dined
where truffles were not. However good any entree
may be, it seems bad unless enriched by truffles. Who
has not felt his mouth water when any allusion was -
made to truffles a la provineale.

A saute of truffles is a dish the honors of which the
mistress of the house reserves to herself; in fine, the
truffle is the diamond of the kitchen.

I sought the reason of this preference ; it seemed
to me that many other substances had an equal right
FOOD IN GERMS. 127

to the honor, and I became satisfied that the cause
was that the truffle was supposed to excite the gene-
siac sense. This I am sure is the chief quality of its
perfection, and the predilection and preference evinced
for it, so powerful is our servitude to this tyrannical
and capricious sense.

This discovery led me to seek to ascertain if the
effect were real or imaginary.

[The Translator here has thought it best to omit u very
BRoaD dialogue, which Brillat-Savarin introduced into his
book. ]

Dad Gh Ma Gs Sls . I made ulterior researches, col-
lected my ideas, and consulted the men who were
most likely to know, with all of whom I was intimate.
I united them into a tribunal, a senate, a sanhedrim,
an areopagus, and we gave the following decision to
be commented upon by the litterateures of the twenty-
eighth century.

“The truffle is a positive aphrodisiac, and under
certain circumstances makes women kinder, and men
more amiable.”

In Piedmont white truffles are met with, which are
very highly esteemed. They have a slight flavor, not
injurious to their perfection, because it gives no disa-
greable return.

The best truffles of France come from Périgord,
and upper Provence. About the month of January
they have their highest perfume.
128 FOOD IN GERMS.

Those from Bugey also have a high flavor, but can
not be preserved.

Those of Burgundy and Dauphiny are of inferior
quality. They are hard, and are deficient in farina-
cious matter. Thus, there are many kinds of trufiles.

To find truffles, dogs and hogs are used, that have
been trained to the purpose. There are men, how-
ever, with such practised eyes that by the inspection
of the soil they can say whether it contains trufiles or
not, and what is their quality.

ARE TRUFFLES INDIGESTIBLES ?

We have only to ascertain if the truffle be indiges-
tible or not.

We say no.

This decision is ex cathedrd, and well sustained.

1. By the nature of the substance. The truflle is
easily masticated, is light, and has nothing hard nor
cartilaginous in its composition.

2. During our observations for fifty years, we have
never known any indigestion to result from trufles.*

8. The attestation of the most eminent of the
faculty of Paris, a city eminently gourmande and
trufflivorous, sustains this idea.

4, From the daily conduct of the doctors of the law,
who, ceteris paribus, consume more truffles than any

* Tho translator has known several such indigestions. He
once nearly became a martyr to a galatine de Perdrix truffee,
at the restaurant of the late M. Dandurand.
FOOD IN GERMS. 129

other class of citizens. Doctor Malonet used to eat
enough to give an elephant the indigestion. He how-
ever lived to be eighty-six.

We may therefore look on it as certain, that the
truffle is a food healthy as it is agreeable, and that
when taken in moderation it passes through the sys-
tem as a letter does through the post office.

One may easily be indisposed after a great dinner,
where other things than truffles have been eaten;
such accidents, however, only happen to those who,
after the first service, were already stuffed like canons,
and who failed in the second, leaving the luxuries
offered them untouched.

This is not then the fault of truffles, and we may
be sure they had swallowed so many glasses of pure
water or eaten the same number of potatoes,

Let us conclude by a circumstance which shows
how easily we may be mistaken without careful obser-
vation.

One day I invited Mr. S , @ very pleasant old
man, to dine with me. He was also a gourmand of the
highest grade. Hither because I knew his tastes, or
to satisfy all my guests that I wished to make them
happy, { was not sparing in truffles, and they appeared
under the egis of young turkeys most carefully stuffed.

Mr.
not injure himself I left him alone, persuading him
not to hurry himself because no one would attack the
property he had acquired.

 

 

ate with energy, and as I knew he could
130 FOOD IN GERMS.

All passed off very well, and we separated at a
very late hour. When we reached home, however,
Mr. 8 was attacked by a violent cholic, a dispo-
sition to vomit, convulsive cramp, and general indis-

 

position.

This state of things lasted some time, and all said
he suffered from the indigestion caused by truffles; at
last nature came to the patient’s aid, and Mr. S
opened his mouth and threw up a single truffle, which
struck the wall and rebounded, luckily without injury
to the by-standers.

All unpleasant symptoms at once disappeared, tran-
quility was restored, digestion recommenced its course,
the patient went to sleep and awoke in the morning
perfectly well.

The cause was easily understood, Mr. S had
been eating a long time, and his teeth were unable to
sustain the labor imposed on them. He had lost
many of those precious members, and those he had
left did not always meet together.

A truffle had thus escaped mastication, and almost
whole had been swallowed. Digestion had carried it

 

 

to the pylorus where it was momentarily detained,
and this mechanical detention had caused all his
trouble, as expulsion had cured it.

Thus there was no indigestion, but merely the inter-
position of a foreign body.

This was decided on by the consulting body, which
FOOD IN GERMS. 134

saw the corpus delicti, and which selected me as its
reporter.

Mr. S did not on this account remain a whit
less fond of truffles. He always attacked them with
the same audacity, but was very careful to swallow
them with more prudence. He used to thank God
that this sanitary precaution had prolonged his life
and his enjoyments.

 

§ VIII. SUGAR.

In the present state of science we understand by
sugar a substance mild to the taste, crystalizable, and
which by fermentation resolves itself into carbonic
acid and alcohol.

By sugar once was understood only the crystalized
juice of the cane, (arundo saccharifera.)

A few pages of old authors would induce us to
think the ancients had observed in certain arundines
a sweet and extractible portion. Lucanus says:

“ Qut bibunt tenera dulces ab arundine succos.”

Between water sweetened by the juice of the cane,
and the sugar we have, there is a great difference. Art
in Rome was not far enough advanced to accomplish it.

Sugar really originated in the colonies of the New
World. The cane was imported thither two centuries
ago and prospered, and efforts was made to utilize the
juice which flowed from it, and by gradual experi-
ments they accomplished the manufacture of all the
variety of its productions we know of.
182 FOOD IN GERMS.

The culture of the sugar cane has become an object
of the greatest importance; it is a great source of
wealth both to the cultivators and the vendors, and
also to the taxes of governments who levy an import
on it.

INDIGENOUS SUGAR.

It has long been thought that tropical heat was not
needed to form sugar. About 1740 Morgroff disco-
vered that many plants of the temperate zones, and
among others the beet contained it.

Towards the beginning of the nineteenth century,
circumstances having made sugar scarce, and conse-
quently dear, the government made it an object for
savants to look for it.

The idea was successful, and it was ascertained that
sugar was found in the whole vegetable kingdom ; that
it existed in the grape, chestnut, potato, and in the
beet especially.

This last plant became an object of the greatest
culture, and many experiments proved that in this
respect, the old world could do without the new.
France was covered with manufactories, which worked
with different success, and the manufacture of sugar
became naturalized; the art was a new one which
may any day be recalled.

Among the various manufactories, the most promi-
nent was that established at Passy, near Paris, by Mr.
FOOD IN GERMS. 133

Benjamin Delassert, a citizen, the name of whom is
always connected with the good and useful.

By means of aseries of extensive operations, he got
rid of all that was doubtful in the practice, and made
no mystery of his plan of procedure, even to those
who were his rivals. He was visited by the head of
the government, and was ordered to furnish all that
was needed at the Tuilleries.

New circumstances, the restoration of peace, having
again reduced colonial sugar to a lower price, the
French manufacturers lost the advantages they had
gained. Many, however, yet prosper, and Delassert
makes some thousands every year. This also enables
him to preserve his processes until the time comes
when they may again be useful.*

When beet sugar was in the market, party men,
up-starts and fools, took it into their heads that its
flavor was unpleasant, and some even said it was
unhealthy.

Many experiments have proved the contrary, and
the Count de Chaptal, in his excellent book, “‘ Chem-

* We may add, that at the session for the general encou-
ragement of national industry, a medal was ordered to be pre-
sented to M. Crespel, a manufacturer of arrus, who manufac
tures every year one hundred and fifty thousand pounds of
beet sugar, which he sells at u profit, even when Colonial
sugar is 2 francs 50 centimes the kilogramme. The reason is,
that the refuse is used for distillation, and subsequently fed
out to cattle.

12
134 FOOD IN GERMS.

istry Applied to Agriculture,” (vol. ii. page 18,)
says:

“Sugars obtained from various plants, says a cele-
brated chemist, are in fact of the same nature, and
have no intrinsic difference when they are equally
pure. Taste, crystalization, color, weight, are abso-
lutely identical, and the most acute observer cannot
distinguish the one from the other.”

An idea of the force of prejudice is afforded by the
fact, that out of one hundred British subjects, taken
at random, not ten believe in the possibility of obtain-
ing sugar from the beet.

USES OF SUGAR.

Sugar was introduced by the apothecaries. With
them it was a most important article, for when a per-
son was greatly in want of any article, there was a
proverb, “ Like an apothécary without sugar.”

To say that it came thence, is to say that it was
received with disfavor ; some said that it was heating,
others that it injured the chest ; some that it disposed
persons to apoplexy. Calumny, however, had to
give way to truth, and for eighty years this apothegm
has been current, ‘‘Sugar hurts nothing but the
purse.”

Under this impenetrable eegis the use of sugar has
increased every day, and no alimentary substance has
undergone so many transformations.
FOOD IN GERMS. 135

Many persons like sugar in a pure state, and in
hopeless cases the faculty recommend it as a substance
which can do no possible harm, and which is not
unpleasant.

Mixed with water, it gives us eau sucrée, a refresh-
ing drink, which is healthful, agreeable, and some-
times salutary.

Mingled in large quantities with water it consti-
tutes szrops, which are perfumed, and from their
variety are most refreshing.

Mingled with water, the caloric of which is artifi-
cially extracted, it furnishes two kinds, which are of
Italian origin, and were introduced into France by
Catharine de Medici.

With wine it furnishes such a restorative power that
in some countries roasted meats taken to the bride and
groom are covered with it, just as in Persia soused
sheeps’ feet are given them.

Mingled with flour and eggs, it furnishes biscuits,
maccaronies, ete., ete., ad infinitum.

With milk it unites in the composition of creams,
blane-mangers and other dishes of the second course,
substituting for the substantial taste of meat, ethereal
perfumes.

It causes the aroma of coffee to be exhaled.

Mingled with café au lait, a light, pleasant aliment
is produced, precisely suited to those who have to go to
their offices immediately after breakfast.

With fruits and flowers it contributes to furnish con-
136 FOOD IN GERMS.

fitures, marmalades, preserves, patés and candies, and
enables us to enjoy the perfume of those flowers long
after they have withered.

It may be that sugar might be advantageously
employed in embalming, an art of which we know
little.

Sugar mingled with alcohol furnishes spirituous
liquors, such as were used, it is said, to warm the old
blood of Louis XIV., which, by their energy, seized
the palate and the taste by the perfumed gas united
to them, the two qualities forming the ne plus ultra
of the pleasures of the taste.

Such is the substance which the French of the time
of Louis XIII. scarcely knew the name of, and which
to the people of the nineteenth century is become so
important; no woman, in easy circumstances, spends
as much money for bread as she does for sugar.

M. Delacroix, a man of letters, who is as industri-
ous as he is profound, was one day complaining of the
price of sugar, which then cost five francs a pound,
“ Ah!” said he, “if sugar should ever again be thirty
sous a pound, I will drink nothing but eau sucrée.”
His wishes were granted; he yet lives, and I trust he
keeps his word.

§ IX. ORIGIN OF COFFEE.

The first coffee tree was found in Arabia, and in
spite of the various transplantations it has undergone,
the best coffee is yet obtained there.
FOOD IN GERMS. 137

An old tradition states that coffee was discovered
by a shepherd of old, who saw that his flock was
always in the greatest state of excitement and hilarity
when they browsed on the leaves of the coffee tree.

Though this may be but an old story, the honor of
the discovery belongs only in part to the goat-herd.
The rest belongs to him who first made use of the
bean, and boiled it.

A mere decoction of green coffee is a most insipid
drink, but carbonization develops the aroma and forms
an oil which is the peculiarity of the coffee we drink,
and which would have been eternally unknown but
for the intervention of heat.

The Turks excel us in this. They employ no mill
to torturate the coffee, but beat it with wooden pestles
in mortars. When the pestles have been long used,
they become precious and are sold at great prices.

Thad to examine and determine whether in the
result one or the other of the two methods be pre-
ferable.

Consequently, I burned carefully a pound of good
mocha, and separated it into two equal portions, the
one of which was passed through the mill, and the
other beaten Turkish fashion in a mortar.

I made coffee of each, taking equal weights of each,
poured on an equal weight of boiling water and treated
them both precisely alike.

I tasted this coffee myself, and caused others who

were competent judges to do so. The unanimous
12*
188 FOOD IN GERMS.

opinion was that coffee which had been beaten in a
mortar was far better than that which had been
ground.

Any one may repeat the experiment. In the inte-
rim I will tell you a strange anecdote of the influence
of one or the other kind of manipulation.

“Monsieur,” said Napoleon, one day to Laplace,
“how comes it that a glass of water into which I put
a lump of loaf sugar tastes more pleasantly than if I
had put in the same quantity of crushed sugar.”
“ Sire,” said the philosophic Senator, “‘ there are three
substances the constituents of which are identical—
Sugar, gum and amidon; they differ only in certain
conditions, the secret of which nature has preserved.
I think it possible that in the effect produced by the
pestle some saccharine particles become either gum or
amidon, and cause the difference.”

This remark became public, and ulterior observa-
tions has confirmed it.

DIFFERENT MODES OF PREPARING COFFEE.

Some years ago all directed their attention to the
mode of preparing coffee; the reason doubtless was
that the head of the government was fond of it.

Some proposed not to burn nor to powder it, to boil
it three quarters of an hour, to strain it, &e.

I have tried this and all the methods which have
been suggested from day to day, and prefer that
known as a la Dubelloy, which consists in pouring
FOOD IN GERMS. 139

boiling water on coffee placed in a porcelain or silver
vessel pierced with a number of very minute holes.
This first decoction should be taken and brought to
the boiling point, then passed through the strainer
again, and a coffee will be obtained clear and strong
as possible.

I have also tried to make coffee in a high pressure
boiling apparatus; all I obtained however was a fluid
intensely bitter, and strong enough to take the skin
from the throat of a Cossack.

EFFECTS OF COFFEE.

Doctors have differed in relation to the sanitary
properties of coffee. We will omit all this, and
devote ourselves to the more important point, its
influence on the organs of thought.

There is no doubt but that coffee greatly excites
the cerebral faculties. Any man who drinks it for
the first time is almost sure to pass a sleepless night.

Sometimes the effect is softened or modified by
custom, but there are many persons on whom it always
produces this effect, and who consequently cannot use
coffee.

I have said that the effect was modified by use, a
circumstance which does not prevent its having effect
in another manner. I have observed persons whom
coffee did not prevent from sleeping at night, need it
to keep them awake during the day, and never failed
to slumber when they had taken it for dinner.
140 FOOD IN GERMS.

There are others who are torpid all day when they
have not taken their cup in the morning.

Voltaire and Buffon used a great deal of coffee.
Perchance the latter was indebted to it for the admi-
rable clearness we observe in his works, and the
second for the harmonious enthusiasm of his style.
It is evident that many pages of the treatise on man,
the dog, the tiger, lion and horse, were written under
a strange cerebral excitement.

The loss of sleep caused by coffee is not painful,
for the perceptions are very clear, and one has no
disposition to sleep. One is always excited and
unhappy when wakefulness comes from any other
cause. This, however, does prevent such an excite-
ment, when carried too far, from being very injurious.

Formerly only persons of mature age took coffee.
Now every one takes it, and perhaps it is the taste
which forces onward the immense crowd that besiege
all the avenues of the Olympus, and of the temple of
memory.

The Cordwainer, author of the tragedy of Zenobia,
which all Paris heard read a few years ago, drank
much coffee ; for that reason he excelled the cabinet-
maker of Nevers, who was but a drunkard.

Coffee is a more powerful fluid than people gene-
rally think. A man in good health may drink two
bottles of wine a day for a long time, and sustain
his strength. If he drank that quantity of coffee he
would become imbecile and die of consumption.
FOOD IN GERMS. 141

I saw at Leicester square, in London, 4 man whom
coffee had made a cripple. He had ceased to suffer,
and then drank but six cups a day.

All fathers and mothers should make their children
abstain from coffee, if they do not wish them at
twenty to be puny dried up machines. People in large
cities should pay especial attention to this, as their
children have no exaggeration of strength and health,
and are not so hearty as those born in the country.

I am one of those who have been obliged to give
up coffee, and I will conclude this article by telling
how rigorously I was subjected to its power.

The Duke of Mossa, then minister of justice, called
on me for an opinion about which I wished to be
careful, and for which he had allowed me but a very
short time.

I determined then to sit up all night, and to enable
me to do so took two large cups of strong and highly
flavored coffee.

I went home at seven o’clock to get the papers
which had been promised me, but found a note telling
me I would not get them until the next day.

Thus in every respect disappointed, I returned to
the house where I had dined, and played a game of
piquet, without any of the moody fits to which I was
ordinarily subject,

I did justice to the coffee, but I was not at ease
as to how I would pass the night.

I went to bed at my usual hour, thinking that if
142 FOOD IN GERMS.

I did not get my usual allowance, I would at least
get four or five hours, sufficient to carry me through
the day.

I was mistaken. I had been two hours in bed and
was wider awake than ever; I was in intense mental
agitation, and fancied my brain a mill, the wheels of
which revolved, grinding nothing.

The idea came to me to turn this fancy to account,
and I did so, amusing myself by putting into verse a
story I had previously read in an English paper

I did so without difficulty, and as I did not sleep I
undertook another, but in vain. A dozen verses had
exhausted my poetic faculty, and I gave it up.

I passed the night without sleep, and without even
being stupified for a moment, I arose and passed the
day in the same manner. When on the next night
I went to bed at my usual hour I made a calculation,
and found out that I had not slept for forty hours.

§ x. CHOCOLATE—ITS ORIGIN.

The first visiters of America were impelled by a
thirst of gold. At that time nothing was appreciated
but the products of the mines. Agriculture and com-
merce were in their infancy, and political economy was
as yet unborn. The Spaniards found then the precious
metals, an almost sterile discovery, for they decreased
in value as they became more abundant. We have
other and better ways to increase wealth.

In those regions, however, where a genial sun confers
FOOD IN GERMS. 143

immense fruitfulness on the soil, the cultivation of
sugar and coffee was found advantageous. The potato,
indigo, vanilla, guano, cocoa, were also discovered ;
these are its real treasures.

If these discoveries took place in spite of the bar-
riers opposed to curiosity by a jealous nation, we may
reasonably hope that they will be multiplied ten-fold
in the course of the years to come; and that the
explorations of the savants of old Europe will enrich
the three kingdoms with a multitude of substances
which will give us new sensations, as vanilla has, or
augment our alimentary rcsources, as cocoa.

It has been determined to call chocolate the result
of the paste of cocoa burnt with sugar and the bark
of the cinnamon. This is the technical definition of
chocolate. Sugar is the integral part, for without
sugar the compound is cocoa and chocolate. To sugar,
cinnamon and cocoa is joined the delicious aroma of
vanilla, and thus is obtained the ne plus ultra to which
this preparation can be carried.

To this small number of ingredients has been
reduced the number of things sought to mingle with
cocoa in the manufacture of chocolate. Pepper,
pimento, anise seed, ginger and others, have neces-
sarily been tried.

The cocoa tree is a native of South America, and
is found both in the islands and on the continent. It
has been confessed, however, that the best fruit is
produced by the trees which grow on the banks of
144 FOOD IN GERMS.

Moracaibo, in the valleys of Caracas, and in the
province of Sokomusko. The fruit is larger, the
‘sugar less bitter, and the taste higher. Since these
regions have become accessible, a comparison may be
made every day and the palate will never be deceived.

The Spanish women of the new world are passion-
ately fond of chocolate; and not satisfied with taking
it two or three times a day, have it even sent after
them to church. This sensuality has often drawn
down the censure of their bishops, who, however,
gradually closed their eyes to it. The reverend father
Escobar, the metaphysics of whom was subtle as his
morals were accommodating, used to declare that cho-
colate made with water did not break a fast; thus for
the use of his penitents reproducing the old adage,
“Liquidum non frangit jeyunium.”

Chocolate was brought to Spain about the end of
the seventeenth century, and the use became at once
common. Women especially showed great fondness
for it. Manners have not changed in this particular
as yet, and now throughout all the peninsula choco-
late is presented on all occasions when it is usual to
offer any refreshment.

Chocolate crossed the mountains with Anne of
Austria, the daughter of Philip I., and wife of Louis
XIII. The Spanish monks also made it known, by
presents to their brethren in France. The Spanish am-
bassadors also made it popular, and during the regency
it was more universally used than coffee, because it
FOOD IN GERMS. 145

was taken as an agreeable food, while coffee was
esteemed a luxury.

Linnzeus calls the cocoa cacao theobroma, (cocoa, the
drink of the gods). A cause for this name has been
sought. Some assign his passionate fondness for it,
and the other his desire to please his confessor ; there
are those who attribute it to gallantry, a Queen having
first introduced it. (Incertum.)

PROPERTIES OF CHOCOLATE.

Chocolate has given occasion to profound disserta-
tions, with the object of determining its nature and
properties, and to place it in the category of warm,
cold, or temperate drinks. We must own all their
lucubrations have contributed but slightly to the
elucidation of truth.

It was left for time and experience, those two great
masters, to show that chocolate prepared with care is
as healthful as it is agreeable. That it is nourishing,
easily digested, and is not so injurious to beauty as
coffee is said to be. It is very suitable to persons
who have much mental toil, to professors and lawyers,
especially to lawyers. It also suits certain feeble
stomachs, and has been thought most advantageous in
chronic diseases. It is the last resource in affections
of the pylorus.

These various properties chocolate owes to nothing

but an eloesaccharum. Few substances contain in
18
146 FOOD IN GERMS.

the same volume more nutrition. It becomes almost
entirely animalised. A

During the war, cocoa was rare and very dear.
Substitutes were sought for, but all efforts were vain.
One of the blessings of peace was that it rid us of all
those humbugs one was forced to taste, but which
were no more chocolate than chicory is mocha.

Some persons complain that they cannot digest
chocolate. Others say that it does not nourish them,
and that it passes away too quickly.

The probability is that the first have only to blame
themselves, and that the chocolate they use is of bad
quality. Good and well made chocolate can be
digested even by the weakest stomach.

The others have an easy remedy, and they need
only strengthen their stomachs by a paté, a cételette,
or a jerked kidney. Then let them take a bowl of
sokomusko, and thank God for such a powerful
stomach.

Here I have an opportunity to give two examples,
the correctness of which may be relied on.

After a good breakfast one may drink a full bowl
of chocolate, and digestion in three hours will be per-
fect, so that one may dine at any hour that is pleasant.
. . . In zeal for the advancement of the science, I
tried this experiment on many ladies who assured me
they would die. They did not, though, and lived to
glorify the professor.

Those who use chocolate, ordinarily enjoy the most
FOOD IN GERMS. 147

perfect health, and are the least subject to the multi-
tude of ailments which destroy life; their embon-
point is stationary. These two examples any one
can verify in society by a scrutiny of those the regi-
men of whom is known.

This is the true place to speak of the properties of
chocolate, which I have verified by many examples
and experiments, which I am delighted to exhibit to
my readers. (See varieties at the end of the volume.)

Now, then, let any man who has indulged too much
in the cup of volupté; let every man who has passed
in toil too much of the time when he should have
slept; let every man of mind, who finds his faculties
temporarily decay ; every man who finds the air humid
and the atmosphere painful to breathe; let every man
who has a fixed idea which would deprive him of the
liberty of thought; let them each take a demi litre of
chocolate ambré, (sixty grains of amber to the kilo-
gramme), and they will see wonders.

In my way of distinguishing things, I have called
this chocolate des affligés ; because in all the conditions
I have referred to, there is something very like afflic-
tion.

Very good chocolate is made in Spain; one is indis-
posed to send thither for it, for all manufacturers are
not equally skillful, and when it comes it has to be
used as it is.

Italian chocolates do not suit the French, for the
cocoa is burned too much. This makes the chocolate
148 FOOD IN GERMS.

bitter, and deprives it of its nourishment. A portion
of the bean has been reduced to carbon.

Chocolate having become common in France, all
sought to learn how to make it. Few, however,
approximated to perfection for the art is not easy.

In the first place it was necessary to know good
cocoa and to use it in all its purity. There is no
first quality case that has not its inferiorities, and a
mistaken interest often causes damaged beans to be
put in, which should have been rejected. The roast-
ing of the cocoa is also a delicate operation, and
requires a tact very like inspiration. Some have the
faculty naturally, and are never mistaken.

A peculiar talent is necessary to regulate the quan-
tity of sugar which enters into the composition. It
is not invariable and a matter of course, but varies in
proportion to the aroma of the bean and the degree
of torrefaction.

The trituration and mixture do not demand less
care, and on them depends the greater or less diges-
tibility of chocolate.

Other considerations should also preside over the
choice and quantity of aromas, which should not be the
same with chocolate made for food and those taken as
luxuries. It should also be varied according if the
mass is intended to receive vanilla or not. In fine, to
make good chocolate a number of very subtle equa-
tions must be resolved, and which we take advantage
of without suspecting that they ever took place.
FOOD IN GERMS. 149

For a long time machines have been employed for
the manufacture of chocolate. We think this does
not add at all to its perfection, but it diminishes
manipulation very materially, so that those who have
adopted it should be able to sell chocolate at a very
low rate.* They, however, usually sell it more dearly,
and this fact demonstrates that the true spirit of
commerce has not yet entered France; the use of
machines should be as advantageous to the consumer
as to the producer.

TRUE METHOD OF PREPARING CHOCOLATE.

The Americans} make their chocolate without sugar.
When they wish to take chocolate, they send for cho-
colate. Every one throws into his cup as much
cocoa as it needs, pours warm water in, and adds the
sugar and perfumes he wishes.

This method neither suits our habits nor our tastes,
for we wish chocolate to come to us ready prepared.

In this state, transcendental chemistry has taught
us that it should neither be rasped with the knife nor
bruised with a pestle, because thus a portion of the
sugar is converted into starch, and the drink made
less attractive.

Thus to make chocolate, that is to say, to make it

* One of those machines is now in operation in a window in
Broadway, New York. It is a model of mechanical appro-
priateness.

+ South Americans.—TransLaTor.

13 *
150 FOOD IN GERMS

fit for immediate use, about an ounce and a half
should be taken for each cup, which should be slowly
dissolved in water while it is heated, and stirred from
time to time with a spatula of wood. It should be
boiled a quarter of an hour, in order to give it consis-
tency, and served up hot.

“‘Monsieur,” said madame d’Arestrel, fifty years
ago, to me at Belley, “ when you wish good chocolate
make it the evening before in a tin pot. The rest of
the night gives it a velvet-like flavor that makes it
far better. God will not be offended at this little
refinement, for in himself is all excellence.”
MEDITATION VII.

THEORY OF FRYING.

Ir was a fine morning in May; the sun shed his
brightest rays on the smoky roofs of the city of
enjoyments, and the streets (strangely enough) were
filled neither with mud nor dust.

The heavy diligences had long ceased to shake the
streets ; the heavy wagons had ceased to pass, and
only open carriages were seen, in which indigenous
and exotic beauties under beautiful hats, cast disdain-
ful looks on ugly, and smiling ones on good-looking
cavaliers.

It was three o’clock when the professor sought his
arm chair to meditate.

His right leg rested vertically on the floor, his left
formed a diagonal angle with, and rested on it. His
back was comfortably supported, and his hands rested
on the lions’ heads which terminated the arms of the
venerable piece of furniture in which he sat.

His lofty brow indicated intense study, and his
mouth a taste for pleasant amusement. His air was
collected, and any one to have seen him would have

said, ‘that is a sage of ancient days.”
(151)
152 THEORY OF FRYING.

The professor sent for his preparateur en chef,
(chief cook) and that officer arrived, ready to receive
orders, advice or lessons.

ALLOCUTION.

‘Master la Planche,” said the professor with that
deep grave accent which penetrates the very depth
of our hearts, ‘‘all who sit at my table pronounce
your potages of the first class, a very excellent thing,
for potage is the first consolation of an empty sto-
mach. Iam sorry to say though that you are uncer-
tain as a friturier.*

“T heard you sigh yesterday over that magnificent
sole you served to us, pale, watery and colorless. My
friend R.t looked disapprovingly of it, M. H. R.
turned his gastronomical nose to the left, and the
President §. declared such a misfortune equal to a
public calamity.

“This happened because you neglected the theory,
the importance of which you are aware of. You are
rather obstinate, though I have taken the trouble to
impress on you the facts, that the operations of your
laboratory are only the execution of the eternal laws of
nature, and that certain things which you do carelessly,
because you have seen others do so; yet these are the

* Anglice. Fryer.

{ Mr. R » born at Seyssel, in the district of Belley, in
1757, an elector of the grand college. He may be considered
an example of the good effects of prudence and probity.

 
THEORY OF FRYING. 153

results of the highest science. Listen to me, there-

fore, with attention, that you may never again blush
at your works.

§ 1. CHEMISTRY.

“Liquids which you subject to the action of fire
cannot all receive the same quantity of heat. Nature
has formed them differently, and this secret, which we
will call capacity for caloric, she has kept to herself.

«You may, therefore, with impunity dip your finger
in boiling spirits of wine; you would take it very
quickly from boiling brandy; more rapidly yet from
water; while the most rapid immersion in boiling
oil would heat you easily.

“‘ Consequently warm fluids act differently on the
sapid bodies presented to them. Those subject to
water soften, dissolve, and reduce themselves to
bolt. The result is doudllon and its extracts.
Those on the contrary treated with oil harden, assume
a color more or less deep, and finally are carbonized.

“Jn the first instance, water dissolves and conveys
away the interior juices of the alimentary substances
placed in it. In the second the juices are preserved,
for they are insoluble in oil. If these things dry up
it is because a continuous heat vaporizes the humid
parts.

“ The two methods have different names, and frying
is bodling in oil or grease substances intended to be
eaten. I think I have told you that officially oil and
154 THEORY OF FRYING.

grease are synoymous; heating the latter being but a
concrete oil.

§ 11. APPLICATION.

“ Fritures are well received in entertainments into
which they introduce an agreeable variety. They
are agreeable to the taste, preserve their primitive
flavor, and may be eaten with the hand, a thing
women are always fond of.

“Thus cooks are able to hide many things that have
appeared on the day before, and remedy unforeseen
requisitions on them. It takes no longer to fry a
four pound chop than it does to boil an egg.

“All the merit of the friture is derived from the
surprise, or the invasion of the boiling liquid which
carbonizes or burns at the very instant of immersion
of the body placed in it.

“To effect a purpose, the liquid must be hot enough
to act instantaneously. It does not, however, reach
this point until it has long been submitted to the
action of a blazing and hot fire.

‘By the following means it may be ascertained if
the friture be heated to the wished-for degree, cut a
piece of bread in the form of a cube, and dip it in the
pan for five or six seconds, if you take it out firm and
dark put in what you wish to prepare immediately.
If it be not, stir the fire and begin again.

“The surprise being once effected, moderate the fire
that the action may not be too hurried, and that by a
THEORY OF FRYING. 155

prolonged heat the juices it contains may be changed
and the flavor enhanced.

“‘ You have doubtless observed that fritures dissolve
neither the sugar nor salt their respective natures
require. You should not fail then to reduce those sub-
stances to a very fine powder in order that they may
adhere the more readily, and season the dish by jux-
taposition.

“TI do not tell you about oils and greases for the
different treatises I have put in your library give you
sufficient light.

“Do not forget, however, when you get one of
those trout which do not weigh more than half a
pound, and which come from murmuring streams, far
from the capitol, to use the finest olive oil. This
delicate dish duly powdered and garnished with slices
of lemon is fit for a cardinal.*

“ Hperlans (smelt or sprat) should be treated in the
same manner. This is the decfique of the water,
and has the same perfume and excellence.

“These two prescriptions are founded in the very
nature of things. Experience tells us that olive oil

* Mr. Aulissin, a very well informed Neapolitan lawyer,
and a good amateur performer on the violoncello, dining one
day with me, and eating some thing that pleased him, said—
“ Questo @ un vero boccone di cardinale.”’ ‘* Why,” said I, in the
same tongue, not say “boccone in Ré.” “‘Seignore,” said he,
“we Italians do nothing; « king cannot be a gourmand, for
royal dinners are too short and solemn. With cardinals things
are very different.” He shrugged his shoulders as he spoke.
156 THEORY OF FRYING.

should only be used with things which are soon cooked,
and which do not demand too high a temperature,
because prolonged ebullition developes an empyreu-
matic and disagreable taste produced by a few par-
ticles of pulp, which can, being impossible to be
gotten rid of, carbonize.

“You tried my furnace, and were the first person
who ever succeeded in producing an immense fried
turbot. On that day there was great rejoicing among
the elect.

“Continue to be coéval in all you attempt, and
never forget that from the moment guests enter the
salon we are responsible for their happiness.”
MEDITATION VIII.

ON THIRST.

Turrst is the internal feeling of a wish to drink.

A heat of about 82° Réaumur, constantly vaporizing
the different fluids the circulation of which sustains
life, the diminution they undergo would unfit them for
their purposes, if they were not renewed and refreshed.
The necessity of this renewal is what we call thirst.

We think the seat of thirst isin the digestive sys-
tem. When athirst (we have often felt the sensation
when hunting) we feel distinctly that all the inhaling
portions of the nostrils, mouth and throat are benumbed
and hardened, and that if thirst be sometimes ap-
peased by the application of fluids to other parts of
the body, as in the bath, the reason is that as soon as
they are absorbed they hurry rapidly to the seat of
the evil and become remedies.

VARIETIES OF THIRST.

Looking at the subject in all its bearings we may
count three varieties of thirst: latent, factitious and
permanent.

14 (157)
158 ON THIRST.

Latent or habitual thirst, is the insensible equi-
librium established between transpiratory vaporiza-
tion and the necessity of supplying what is lost.
Thus, though we experience no pain, we are invited to
drink while we eat, and are able to drink at almost
every moment of the day. This thirst accompanies
us every where, and is almost a portion of our exist-
ence.

Factitious thirst is peculiar to man, and results from
the instinct which impels him to seek in drink the
strength he needs. Itisan artificial enjoyment rather
than a natural want. This thirst is really governless,
because the fluids we take have the faculty of reviving
it, and this thirst becomes habitual, makes drunkards
in every country. The consequence is, that they
drink as long as liquor lasts, or until they are utterly
overcome.

When, on the other hand, thirst is appeased by pure
water, which seems the most natural remedy, we never
drink more than we actually need.

Hardening thirst is the result of the increase of the
want, and of the impossibility to satisfy latent thirst.

It is so called because it is accompanied by hard-
ness of the tongue, dryness of the palate, and a de-
vouring heat in all the body.

The sensation of thirst is so intense, that in all
tongues it is synonymous with excessive desire, and
irrepressible longing: thus we thirst for gold, wealth,
power, science, &c., expressions which never would
ON THIRST. 159

have become common had men not have been athirst
and aware of their vengeance.

Appetite is pleasant when it does not reach the
point of hunger. Thirst is not so, and as soon as we
feel it we are uncomfortable and anxious. When
there is no possibility of appeasing it, the state of mind
is terrible.

To compensate us for this, the sense of thirst pro-
cures us great pleasure; and when great thirst is ap-
peased, or a delicious drink is offered to one moderately
athirst, the whole papillary system is aroused, from
the tip of the tongue to the extremity of the stomach.

We die of thirst more rapidly than of hunger.
Men with an abundance of water, have lived for eight
days without bread. Without water, the system suc-
cumbs on the fifth.

The reason is that in starving, man dies more of
weakness ; in thirst of a burning fever.

People are not always able to resist thirst so long:
in 1787, one of the hundred Swiss of Louis XVI., died
from having been twenty-four hours without drink.

He was at a cabaret with some of his comrades,
and as he was about to carry his glass to his lips, he
was reproached with drinking oftener than the rest,
and with not being able to do a moment without it.

He then made a bet of ten bottles of wine, that he
would not drink for twenty-four hours.

He ceased at once, and sat by, for two hours, seeing
the others drink.
160 ON THIRST.

The night passed well enough, but at dawn he found
it difficult to do without his habitual glass of brandy.

All the morning he was uneasy and troubled; he
went hither and thither without reason, and seemed
not to know what he was about.

At one o’clock he laid down, fancying he would be
calmer: he was really sick, but those about him could
not induce him to drink. He said he could get on till
evening: he wished to gain his bet, and it is probable
also, that some military pride was mingled in the mat-
ter, which prevented him from yielding to pain.

He kept up until seven o’clock, but at half-after
seven was very sick and soon died, without being able
to swallow a glass of wine which was presented to him.

I was informed of all these details that very night,
by the Sieur Schneider, the fifer of the hundred Swiss,
in the house of whom I lived at Versailles.

CAUSES OF THIRST.

Many circumstances, either united or separate,
contribute to thirst. We shall mention some which
are not without influence on our habits.

Heat augments thirst. Whence comes the disposi-
tion men have always had to build their habitations
near the sea.

Corporeal labor augments thirst. Persons who
employ labourers, always gratify them by drink—
hence the proverb that wine given them is always well
sold.
ON THIRST. 161

Dancing increases thirst, and for this reason the
ball-room is always supplied with invigorating drinks.

Declamation also increases thirst, which accounts
for the glass of water readers always seek to drink
with grace, and which is always beside the white hand-
kerchief on the desk.

Genesiac pleasure excites thirst, and accounts for
the poetical descriptions of Cyprus, Amathonte, Gni-
dus, and other homes of Venus, in which there are
always shady groves and murmuring streamlets.

Song augments thirst, and therefore all vocalists are
said to be such huge drinkers. A musician myself, I
protest against this assertion, which has neither rhyme
nor reason.

The artists in our saloons drink with as much pru-
dence as sagacity; what they lose in this, however,
they atone for on the other side ; if not given to drink,
they are untiring gourmands, so much so, that I am
told at the Circle of Transcendental Harmony,* the
festivals of St. Cecile lasted twenty-four hours.

EXAMPLE.

Exposure to a rapid current of air, causes a rapid
augmentation of thirst, and I think the following ob-
servations will be read with pleasure by all the lovers
of the chase.

It is well known that quail are fond of huge moun-

* A well known “Musical Society.”
14*
162 . ON THIRST.

tains, where their broods are in more safety, from the
fact that the harvests are later.

When the rye is cut, they go into the barley and
oats; and when the latter is being harvested, they go
into that portion which is less matured.

This is the time to.shoot them; because in a small
number of acres, are found all the birds which a few
months before were strewn through a whole commune
and are at that time fat as possible.

I went with some friends for the purpose of shoot-
ing to a mountain in the arrondisstment of Nan-
tua, in the canton known as plan d’Hotonne, where
we were about to commence the day’s work under a
brighter sun than any Parisian dadaud ever saw.

While we were at breakfast a violent north wind
arose which was much in the way of our sport: we
however continued.

We had scarcely been out a quarter of an hour,
when the most effeminate of the party said he was
thirsty. We now, doubtless, would have laughed at
him, had we not all experienced the same sensation.

We all drank, for an ass loaded with refreshments
followed us, but the relief afforded was of brief dura-
tion. The thirst soon appeared with increased inten-
sity, so that some fancied themselves sick, and others
were becoming so, and all talked of returning. To do
so was to have travelled ten leagues for no purpose.

T had time to collect my ideas, and saw the reason
of this strange thirst; and told them we suffered from
ON THIRST. 163

the effects of three causes. The dimunition of atmos-
pheric pressure made our circulation more rapid.
The sun heated us, and walking had increased tran-
spiration. More than all these—the wind dried up this
transpiration, and prevented all moistness of the skin.

I told them that there was no danger, that the
enemy was known, and that we must oppose it.

Precaution however was ineffectual, for their thirst
was -quenchless. Water, wine and water, and brandy,
all were powerless. We suffered from thirst even
while we drank, and were uncomfortable all day.

We got through the day, however; the owner of. the
domain of Latour entertaining us, joining the provi-
sions we had, to his own stores.

We dined very well and got into the hay-loft, where
we slept soundly.

The next day’s experience showed my theory to be
true. The wind lulled, the sun was not so warm, and
we experienced no inconvenience from thirst.

But a great misfortune had befallen us. We had
very prudently filled our canteens, but they had not
been able to resist the many assaults made on them.
They were bodies without souls, and we all fell into
the hands of the cabaret-keepers.

We had to come to that point, not however without
murmuring. I addressed an allocution full of re-
proaches to the wind, when I saw a dish fit to be set
before aking, “ D’epinards a la graisse de cailles,”
164 ON THIRST.

destined to be eaten with a wine scarcely as good as
that of Suréne.*

* A village two leagues from Paris, famous for its bad wine.
There is a proverb which says that to get rid of a glass of
Suréne, three things are needed, “a drinker and two men to
hold him in case his courage fail.” The same may he said of
Périeux, which people however will drink.
MEDITATION IX.

ON DRINKS.*

By drinks we mean all liquids which mingle with
food.

Water seems to be the natural drink. Wherever
there is animal life itis found, and replaces milk. For
adults it is as necessary as air.

WATER.

Water is the only fluid which really appeases thirst,
and for that reason only a small quantity of it can be
drank. The majority of other fluids that man drinks
are only palliatives, and had he drank nothing else
he never would have said that he drank without being
thirsty.

QUICK EFFECT OF DRINKS.

Drinks are absorbed by the animal economy with

* This chapter is purely philosophical: a description of dif-
ferent kinds of wine does not enter into the plan I have marked

out for myself. If it was, I would never have finished my book.
(165)
166 ON DRINKS.

the most extreme facility. Their effect is prompt
and the relief they furnish is almost instantaneous.
Give the most hungry man you can meet with the richest
possible food, he will eat with difficulty. Give him a
glass of wine or of brandy, and at once he will find
himself better.

I can establish this theory by a very remarkable
circumstance I received from my nephew, Colonel
Guigard, a man not disposed to tell long stories All
may rely upon the accuracy of what he has said.

He was at the head of a detachment returning from
the siege of Jaffa, and was but a few hundred paces
from the place where he expected to find water, and
where he met many of the advanced guard already dead
with heat.

Among the victims of this burning climate was a
carabinter who was known to many persons of the
detachment.

Many of his comrades who approached him for the
last time, either to inherit what he had left, or to bid
him adieu, were amazed to find his limbs flexible and
something flexible around his heart.

“Give him a drop of sacré chien,” said the lustig
of the troupe. “If he is not too far gone into the other
world, he will come back to taste it.”

At the reception of the first spoonful of spirits he
opened his eyes: they then rubbed his temples and
gave him a drop or two. After about an hour he was
able to sit up in the saddle.
ON DRINKS. 167

He was taken to a fountain, nursed during the
night, and carefully attended to. On the next day he
reached Cairo.

STRONG DRINKS.

There is one thing very worthy of attention;
the instinct which leads us to look for intoxicating
drinks.

Wine, the most pleasant of all drinks, whether due
to Noah who planted the vine, or to Bacchus who ex-
pressed the juice of the grape, dates back to the
infancy of the world. Beer, which is attributed to
Osiris, dates to an age far beyond history.

All men, even those we call savages, have been so
tormented by the passion for strong drinks, that
limited as their capacities were, they were yet able to
manufacture them.

They made the milk of their domestic animals sour :
they extracted the juice of many animals and many
fruits in which they suspected the idea of fermentation
to exist. Wherever men are found, strong liquors are
met with, and are used in festivities, sacrifices, mar-
riages, funeral rites, and on all solemn occasions.

For many centuries wine was drank and sung
before any persons had an idea that it was possible to
extract the spirituous portion, which is the essence of
its power. The Arabs, however, taught us the art of
distillation, invented by them to extract the perfume
of flowers, and especially of the rose, so celebrated in
168 ON DRINKS.

their poems. Then persons began to fancy that in
wine a source of excitement might be found to give
taste a peculiar exaltation. By gradual experiments
alcohol, spirits of wine, and brandy were discovered.

Alcohol is the monarch of liquids, and takes pos-
session of the extreme tastes of the palate. Its various
preparations offer us countless new flavors, and to
certain medicinal remedies, it gives an energy they
could not well do without. It has even become a for-
midable weapon: the natives of the new world having
been more utterly destroyed by brandy than by gun- :
powder.

The method by which alcohol was discovered, has
led to yet more important results, as it consisted in
the separation and exhibition of the constituent parts
of a body, it became a guide to those engaged in
analogous pursuits, and made us acquainted with new
substances, such as quinine, morphine, strychnine and
other similar ones.

Be this as it may, the thirst for a liquid which na-
ture has shrouded in veils, the extraordinary appetite
acting on all races of men, under all climates and
temperatures, is well calculated to attract the attention
of the observer.

T have often been inclined to place the passion for
spirituous liquors, utterly unknown to animals, side
by side with anxiety for the future, equally strange to
them, and to look on the one and the other as distinc-
tive attributes of the last sublunary revolution.
MEDITATION X.

AN EPISODE ON THE END OF THE WORLD.

I satp—last sublunary revolution, and this idea
awakened many strange ideas.

Many things demonstrate to us that our globe has
undergone many changes, each of which was, so to say,
“an end of the world.’”’ Some instinct tells us many
other changes are to follow.

More than once, we have thought these revolutions
likely to come, and the comet of Jerome Lalande has
sent many persons to the confessional.

The effect of all this has been that every one is dis-
posed to surround this catastrophe with vengeance,
exterminating angels, trumps and other accessories.

Alas! there is no use to take so much trouble to
ruin us. We are not worth so much display, and if God
please, he can change the surface of the globe without
any trouble.

Let us for a moment suppose that one of those wan-
dering stars, the route and mission of which none
know, and the appearance of which is always accom-
panied by some traditional terror; let us suppose

15 (169)
170 AN EPISODE

that it passes near enough to the sun, to be charged
with a superabundance of caloric, and approach near
enough to us to create a heat of sixty degrees Réau-
mur over the whole earth (as hot again as the temper-
ature caused by the comet of 1811.)

All vegetation would die, all sounds would cease.
The earth would revolve in silence until other circum-
stances had evolved other germs: yet the cause of this
disaster would have remained lost in the vast fields of
air, and would never have approached us nearer than
some millions of leagues.

This event, which in the main, has ever seemed to
me a fit subject for reverie, and I never ceased for a
moment to dwell on it,

This ascending heat is curious to be looked after,
and it is not uninteresting to follow its effects, expan-
sion, action, and to ask:

How great it was during the first, second, and sub:
sequent days.

What effect it had on the earth, and water, and on
the formation and mingling, and detonation of gasses.

What influence it had on men, as far as age, sex,
strength and weakness are concerned.

What influence it has on obedience to the laws,
submission to authority, and respect to persons and
property.

What one should do to escape from danger.

What influence it has on love, friendship, parental
affection, self-love and devotion.
ON THE END OF THE WORLD. 171

What is its influence on the religious sentiments,
faith, resignation and hope.

History can furnish us a few facts on its moral
influence, for the end of the world has more than once
been predicted and determined.

I am very sorry that I cannot tell my readers how
I settled all this, but I will not rob them of the plea-
sure of thinking of the matter themselves. This may
somewhat shorten some of their sleepless hours, and
ensure them a few szestas during the day.

Great_danger dissolves all bonds. When the yel-
low fever was in Philadelphia, in 1792, husbands
closed the doors on their wives, children deserted their
fathers, and many similar phenomena occurred.

Quod & nobis Deus avertat !
MEDITATION XI.

ON GOURMANDISE.

I AVE looked through various dictionaries for the
word gourmandise and have found no translation that
suited me. It is described as a sort of confusion of
gluttony and voracity. Whence I have concluded that
lexicographers, though very pleasant people in other
respects, are not the sort of men to swallow a partridge
wing gracefully with one hand, with a glass of Laffitte
or clos de Vougeot in the other.

They were completely oblivious of social gourman-
dise, which unites Athenian elegance, Roman luxury
and French delicacy ; which arranges wisely, flavors
energetically, and judges profoundly. This is a pre-
cious quality which might be a virtue and which is
certainly the source of many pure enjoyments.

DEFINITIONS.

Let us understand each other.
Gourmandise is a passionate preference, well deter-
mined and satisfied, for objects which flatter our taste.

Gourmandise is hostile to all excesses: any man
(172)
ON GORMANDISING. 173

who becomes drunk or suffers from indigestion is likely
to be expunged from the lists.

Gourmandise also comprehends, friandise (passion
for light delicacies) for pastry, comfitures, etc. This
is a modification introduced for the special benefit of
women, and men like the other sex.

Look at gourmandise under any aspect you please,
and it deserves praise.

Physically, it is a demonstration of the healthy
state of the organs of nutrition.

Morally, it is implicit resignation to the orders of
God, who made us eat to live, invites us to do so by
appetite, sustains us by flavor, and rewards us by
pleasure.

ADVANTAGES OF GOURMANDISE.

Considered from the points of view of political
economy, gourmandise is the common bond which
unites the people in reciprocal exchanges of the ar-
ticles needed for daily consumption.

This is the cause of voyages from one pole to the
other, for brandy, spices, sugars, seasonings and pro-
visions of every kind, even eggs and melons.

This itis which gives a proportional price to things,
either mediocres, good or excellent, whether the arti-
cles derive them out of, or from nature.

This it is that sustains the emulation of the crowd
of fishermen, huntsmen, gardeners and others, who

15 *
174 ON GOURMANDISING.

every day fill the wealthiest kitchens with the result
of their labours.

This it is which supports the multitude of cooks,
pastry-cooks, confectioners, etc., who employ work-
men of every kind, and who perpetually put in circu-
lation, an amount of money which the shrewdest calcu-
lator cannot imagine.

Let us observe that the trades and occupations de-
pendent on gourmandise have this great advantage,
that on one hand it is sustained by great misfor-
tunes and on the other by accidents which happen
from day to day.

In the state of society we now have reached, it 1s
difficult to conceive of a people subsisting merely on
bread and vegetables. Such a nation if it existed
would certainly be subjected by carnivorous enemies,
as the Hindoos were, to all who ever chose to attack
them. If not it would be converted by the cooks of
its neighbors as the Béotiens were, after the battle of
Leuctres.

SEQUEL.

Gourmandise offers great resources to fiscality, for
it increases customs, imports, etc. All we consume
pays tribute in one degree or another, and there is no
source of public revenue to which gourmands do not

contribute.
Let us speak for a moment of that crowd of pre-

parers who every year leave France, to instruct
ON GOURMANDISING. 175

foreign nations in gourmandise. The majority succeed
and obedient to the unfasting instinct of a French-
man’s fever, return to their country with the fruits of
their economy. This returnis greater than one would
think.

Were nations grateful, to what rather than to gour-
mandise should France erect a monument.

POWER OF GOURMANDISE.

In 1815, the treaty of the month of November,
imposed on France the necessity of paying the allies
in three years, 750,000,000 francs.

Added to this was the necessity of meeting the de-
mands of individuals of various nations, for whom the
allied sovereigns had stipulated, to the amount of more
than 300,000,000.

To this must be added requisitions of all kinds by
the generals of the enemies who loaded whole wagons,
which they sent towards the frontier, and which the
treasury ultimately had to pay for. The total was
more than 1,500,000,000 franes.

One might, one almost should have feared, that such
large payments, collected from day to day, would have
produced want in the treasury, a deprecation of all
fictitious values, and consequently all the evils which
befall a country that has no money, while it owes
much.

‘“ Alas,” said the rich, as they saw the wagon going
to the Rue Vivienne for its load ; “all our money is
176 ON GOURMANDISING.

emigrating, next year we will bow down to a crown:
we are utterly ruined; all our undertakings will fail,
and we will not be able to borrow. ‘There will be
nothing but ruin and civil death.”

The result contradicted all these fears; the payments,
to the amazement of financiers, were made without
trouble, public credit increased, and all hurried after
loans. During the period of this superpurgation, the
course of exchange, an infallible measure of the cir-
culating of money, was in our favor. This was an
arithmetical proof that more money came into France
than left it.

What power came to our aid? What divinity ope-
rated this miracle? Gourmandise.

When the Britons, Germans, Teutons, Cimmerians,
and Scythes, made an irruption into France, they came
with extreme voracity and with stomachs of uncommon
capacity.

They were not long contented with the cheer furn-
ished them by a forced hospitality, but aspired to more
delicate enjoyments. The Queen City, ere long, be-
came one immense refectory. The new comers ate in
shops, cafes, restaurants, and even in the streets.

They gorged themselves with meat, fish, game, truf-
fles, pastry and fruit.

They drank with an avidity quite equal to their
appetite, and always called for the most costly wine,
expecting in those unknown enjoyments, pleasures
they did not meet with.
ON GOURMANDISING. 177

Superficial observers could not account for this eat-
ing, without hunger, which seemed limitless. All true
Frenchmen, however, rubbed their hands, and said,
“they are under the charm; they have spent this
evening more money than they took from the treasury
in the morning.”

This epoch was favorable to all those who contri-
buted to the gratification of the taste. Very made
his fortune, Achard laid the foundation of his, and
Madame Sullot, the shop of whom, in the Palais Royal,
was not twenty feet square, sold twelve thousand petits
patés a day.

The effect yet lasts, for strangers crowd to Paris
from all parts of Europe, to rest from the fatigues of
war. Our public monuments, it may be, are not so
attractive as the pleasures of gourmandise, every-
where elaborated in Paris, a city essentially gourmand.

A LADY GOURMAND.

Gourmandise is not unbecoming to women: it
suits the delicacy of their organs and recompenses
them for some pleasures they cannot enjoy, and for
some evils to which they are doomed.

Nothing is more pleasant than to see a pretty wo-
man, her napkin well placed under her arms, one of
her hands on the table, while the other carries to her
mouth, the choice piece so elegantly carved. Her
eyes become brilliant, her lips glow, her conversation
is agreeable and all her motions become graceful.
178 ON GOURMANDISING.

With so many advantages she is irresistible, and even
Cato, the censor, would feel himself moved.

ANECDOTE.

I will here record what to me is a bitter reflection.

I was one day most commodiously fixed at table,
by the side of the pretty Madame M. d, and
was inwardly rejoicing at having obtained such an ad-
vantageous position, when she said “ your health.” I
immediately began a complimentary phrase, which
however, I did not finish, for turning to her neighbor
on the right, she said “Zrinquons,” they touched
each others glasses. This quick transition seemed
a perfidy, and the passage of many years have not
made me forget it,

 

ARE WOMEN GOURMANDS ?

The penchant of the fair sex for gourmandise is not
unlike instinct; for gourmandise is favorable to beauty.

A series of exact and rigorous examinations, has
shown that a succulent and delicate person on careful
diet, keeps the appearance of old age long absent.

It makes the eyes more brilliant, and the color more
fresh. It makes the muscles stronger, and as the de-
pression of the muscles causes wrinkles, those terrible
enemies of beauty, it is true that other things being
equal, those who know how to eat, are ten years
younger than those ignorant of that science.

Painters and sculptors are well aware of this, for
ON GOURMANDISING. 179

they never represent those to whom abstinence is a
matter of duty, such as anchorites and misers, except
as pale, thin, and wrinkled.

THE EFFECTS OF GOURMANDISE ON SOCIABILITY.

Gourmandise is one of the principle bonds of
society. It gradually extends that spirit of convivi-
ality, which every day unites different professions,
mingles them together, and diminishes the angles of
conviviality.

This it is, which induces every amphitryon to re-
ceive his guests well, and also excites the gratitude of
the latter when they see themselves well taken care
of: here is the place to reprobate those stupid masti-
cators, who with the most guilty indifference to the
greatest luxuries, and who with sacrilegious indiffer-
ence inhale the odorous perfume of nectar.

General Law.—Kyvery display of high intelligence,
makes explicit praise necessary. Delicate praise is
necessary, wherever a wish to please is evident.

INFLUENCE OF GOURMANDISE ON CONJUGAL
HAPPINESS.

When gourmandise is shared with another, it has
the greatest influence on conjugal happiness.

A gourmand couple have at least once a day a
pleasant occasion to meet, for even those who sleep
apart (and there are many) dine together. They talk
of what they have eaten, of what they have seen
elsewhere, of fashionable dishes and of new inventions,
180 ON GOURMANDISING.

etc., etc. We all know how full of charms this chit
chat is.

Music, doubtless, has many charms for those who
love it; but to succeed, one must make a business
of it.

Besides, sometimes one has a cold, misplaces the
score, has the sick headache or feels inert.

One necessity calls each of the couple to the table,
where the same feeling retains them. They exhibit
naturally slight attentions to each other, which evinces
a desire to please, and the manner in which they act
to each other speaks loudly of the manner of their lives.

This observation, though new in France, has not
escaped the attention of the English novelist, Field-
ing, who in Pamela gives the well-known instance of
the manner in which the heroine and her husband
lived on the one hand, and the more magnificent but
unhappy life of the elder brother and his wife.

Honour then to gourmandise as we present it to
our readers, inasmuch as it diverts man neither from
occupation nor from duty; for as the dissoluteness of
Sardanapulus did not cause the world to look on
woman with horror, neither did Vitellius’ excesses
induce the world to turn aside from a well-ordered
entertainment.

When gourmandise becomes gluttony, voracity or
debauchery, it loses its name and attributes, falling
into the hands of the moralist who will treat it by ad-
vice, or the medical man who will treat it by remedy.
ON GOURMANDISING. 181

Gourmandise, as the professor has described it, has
a name only in French; neither the Latin gula, Eng-
lish “‘gluttony,” nor German lusternhett, expresses it,
and we recommend all who attempt a translation of
this instructive book to preserve the word, changing
the article which produces it only. Thus they did
with coquetterie.

NOTE OF A PATRIOT GASTRONOMER.

“T observe with pride, that gourmandise and coquet-
tery, the two great modifications which society hag
effected in our imperious wants, are both of French
origin.”

16
MEDITATION XII.

GOURMANDS.

ALL WHO WISH TO BE ARE NOT GOURMANDS.

THERE are individuals to whom nature has refused
a fineness of organs and a degree of attention, without
which the most succulent food passes unperceived.

Physiology has already recognized the first of these
varieties, by exhibiting the tongue of those unfortu-
nate men who are badly provided with the means of
appreciating flavors and tastes. Such persons have
but an obtuse sensation, for to them taste is what
light is to the blind.

The second of these varieties is composed of absent
minded men, of ambitious persons, and others, who
wish to attend to two things at once, and who eat only
to eat.

NAPOLEON.

Such was Napoleon; he was irregular in his meals
and ate quickly. When hungry, his appetite had to
be satisfied at once, and he was so completely served,

that at any hour he could have fowl, game or coffee.
(182)
GOURMANDS. 183

GOURMANDS BY DESTINY.

There is however, a privileged class, which organic
and material organization invites to the enjoyments
of the taste.

I was always a disciple of Lavater and Gall, and
believe in innate ideas.

As persons have been born who see, walk, and hear
badly, because they are near-sighted, lame, or deaf,
why may there not be others inclined to peculiar sen-
sations.

To the most careless observer there will ever be
presented faces which bear the undeniable expres-
sion of some dominant sentiment, such as dis-
dainful impertinence, self-satisfaction, misanthropy,
sensuality, &. A very meaningless face may express
all this, but when the face has a determined expres-
sion, one is rarely mistaken.

Passions agitate the muscles, and often when a
man is silent, the various feelings which agitate him
may be read on his face. This tension, though habitual
leave sensible traces, and give the face a permanent
and well defined character.

SENSUAL PREDESTINATION.

The persons predestined to gourmandise are
in general of medium stature. Their faces are
either round or square, and small, their noses
short and their chins rounded. The women are
184 GOURMANDS.

rather pretty than beautiful, and they have a slight
tendency to obesity.

Those who are fondest of friandises have delicate
features, smaller, and are distinguished by a peculiar
expression of the mouth.

Agreeable guests should be sought for among those
who have this appearance. They receive all that is
offered them, eat slowly, and taste advisedly. They
do not seek to leave places too quickly where they
have been kindly received. They are always in for
all the evening, for they know all games, and all that
is neccessary for a gastronomical sotrée. .

Those, on the contrary, to whom nature has refused
a desire for the gratifications of taste, have a long
nose and face. Whatever be their statures, the face
seems out of order. Their hair is dark and flat, and
they have no embonpoint. They invented pantaloons.

Women whom nature has thus afflicted, are very
angulous, are uncomfortable at the table, and live on
lenten fare.

This physiological theory will, I trust, meet with not
many contradictions: any one may verify the matter.
I will, however, rely on facts.

I was sitting one day at a great entertainment, and
saw opposite to me a very pretty woman with a very
sensual face. I leaned towards my neighbor and said,
that the lady with such features must be gourmande.
‘‘Bah!”’ said he, “she is not more than fifteen; she
is not old enough—let us see though.”
GOURMANDS. 185

The beginning was not favorable, and I was afraid
of being compromised. During the first two courses,
the young woman ate with a discretion which really
amazed me. The dessert came, it was brilliant as it
was abundant, and gave me some hopes. I was not
deceived, for she not only ate what was set before
her, but sent for dishes which were at the other end
of the table. She tasted every thing, and we were
surprised that so small a stomach could contain so
much. My diagnostics succeeded and science tri-
umphed.

Two years after I met this same lady, who had
been married a week. She had become far more beau-
tiful, was something of a coquette, for fashion permit-
ted her to exhibit her charms. Her husband was a
man worth looking at, but he was like one of those
ventriloquists who laugh on one side of the face and
weep on the other. He was very fond of his wife,
but when any one spoke to her, quivered with
jealousy. The latter sentiment prevailed, for he took
his wife to one of the most remote departments of
France, and I, at least, can write no more of her biog-
raphy.

I made a similar observation about the Duke of
Deecrés, long minister of marine.

We knew that he was large, short, dark and square ;
that his face was round, that his chin protruded,
that his lips were thick, and that he had a giant’s

16 *
186 GOURMANDS.

mouth. I therefore had no hesitation in proclaiming
him fond of good cheer and of women.

This physiognomical remark I whispered to a wo-
man I thought very pretty and very discreet. I was
mistaken though, for she was a daughter of Eve, and
my secret was made known. One evening his excel-
lency was informed of the idea I had deduced from
his face.

I ascertained this the next day, by a pleasant letter
which I received from the Duke, in which he insisted that
he had not the two qualities I had attributed to him.

I confessed myself beaten. I replied that nature
does nothing in vain; that she had evidently formed
him for certain duties, and that if he did not fulfil
them he contradicted his appearance. That besides,
I had no right to expect such confidence, ete., ete.

There the correspondence terminated, hut a few
days after all Paris was amused by the famous
encounter between the minister and his cook, in which
his excellency did not get the best of the matter. If
after such an affair the cook was not dismissed, (and
he was not,) I may conclude that the duke was com-
pletely overcome by the artist’s talents, and that he
could not find another one to suit his taste so exactly,
otherwise he would have gotten rid of so warlike a
servant.

As I wrote these lines, during a fine winter evening,
Mr. Cartier, once first violinist of the opera, entered
my room and sat by the fire. I was full of my
GOURMANDS. 187

subject, and looked attentively at him. I said, « My
dear Professor, how comes it that you, who have every
feature of gourmandise, are not a gourmand?” “TJ
am,” said he, “but I make abstinence a duty.” “Ts
that an act of prudence?” He did not reply, but he
uttered a sigh, a la Walter Scott.

GOURMANDS BY PROFESSION.

If there be gourmands by predestination, there are
also gourmands by profession. There are four classes
of these: Financiers, men of letters, doctors, and
devotees.

FINANCIERS.

Financiers are the heroes of gourmandise. Hero is
here the proper name, for there was some contention,
and the men who had titles crowd all others beneath
their titles and escutcheons. They would have tri-
umphed, but for the wealth of those they opposed.
Cooks contended with genealogists; and though dukes
did not fail to laugh at their amphitryon, they came
to the dinner, and that was enough.

Those persons who make money easily must be
gourmands.

The inequality of wealth produces inequality of
wants. He who can pay every day for a dinner fit
for an hundred persons, is often satisfied after having
eaten the thigh of a chicken. Art then must use well
its resources to revive appetite. Thus Mondar became
188 ' GOURMANDS.

a gourmand, and otners with the same tastes collects
around him.

PHYSICIANS.

Causes of another nature, though far less baneful,
act on physicians, who, from the nature of things, are
gourmands. ‘To resist the attractions set before them
they must necessarily be made of bronze.

One day I ventured to say, (Doctor Corvisart was
at the end of the table—the time was about 1806) :—

“You are,” said I, with the air of an inspired puri-
tan, “the last remnant of a composition which once
covered all France. The members of it are either
annihilated or dispersed. No longer do we see
farmers general, abbes, chevaliers, &c. Bear the
burden they have bequeathed to you, even if you take
the three hundred Spartans who died at Thermopyle ;
such a fate should be yours.”

Nobody contradicted me.

At dinner I made a remark which was worthy of
notice :—

Doctor Corvisart was a very pleasant man when he
pleased, and was very fond of iced champagne. For
this reason, while all the rest of the company were
dull and idle, he dealt in anecdotes and stories. On
the contrary, when the dessert was put on, and con-
versation became animated, he became serious and
almost morose.

From this and other observations, I deduced the
GQOURMANDS. 189

following conclusion: Champagne, the first effect of
which is exhilarating, in the result is stupefying, on
account of the excessant carbonic gases it contains.

OBJUGATION.

As I measure doctors by their diplomatu, I will not
reproach them for the severity with which they treat
their invalids.

As soon as one has the misfortune to fall into their
hands, one has to give up all we have previously
thought agreeable.

I look on the majority of these prohibitions as
useless. I say useless, because patients never desire
what is injurious to them.

A reasonable physician should never lose sight of
the natural tendency of our inclinations, nor forget to
ascertain if our penchants are painful in themselves,
or improving to health. A little wine, or a few drops
of liquor, brings the smiles to the most hypochondriac
faces.

Besides, they know that their severe prescriptions
are almost always without effect, and the patient seeks
to avoid him. Those who are around him, never are
in want of a reason to gratify him. People, however,
will die.

The ration of a sick Russian, in 1815, would have
made a porter drunk. There was no retrenchment to
be made, for military inspectors ran from day to day
through the hospitals, and watched over the furnish-
ment and the service of the various houses.
190 GOURMANDS.

T express my opinions with the more confidence,
because it is sustained by much experience, and that
the most fortunate practitioners rely on my system.

The canon Rollet who died about fifty years ago,
was a great drinker; and the first physician he em-
ployed, forbid him to use wine at all. When, however,
he came again, the doctor found his patient in bed,
and before him the corpus delictt, i. e., a table covered
with a white cloth, a chrystal cup, a handsome bottle,
and a napkin to wipe his lips with.

The doctor at once became enraged, and was about
to withdraw, when the canon said in a lamentable
voice, “‘ doctor, remember, if you forbade my drink-
ing, you did not prohibit my looking at the bottle.”

The physician who attended M. Montlusin de Point
de Veyle was far more cruel, for he not only forbid his
patient to touch wine, but made him drink large quan-
tities of water.

A short time after the doctor had left, Mme. de
Montlusin, anxious to fulfil the requisition of the pres-
cription, and contribute to her husband’s recovery,
gave him a great glass of water, pure and limpid as
possible.

The patient received it kindly and sought to drink
it with resignation. At the first swallow, however, he
stopped, and giving the glass back to his wife, said,
“Take this, dear, and keep it for the next dose; I
have always heard, one should never trifle with rem-
edies.”
GOURMANDS. 191

MEN OF LETTERS. .

Men of letters in the world of gastronomy, have a
place nearly equal to that of men of medical faculty.

Under the reign of Louis XIV., men of letters were
all given to drink. They conformed to fashion and the
memoirs of the day, in this respect, are very defying.
They are now gourmands,—a great amelioration.

Iam far from agreeing with the cynic Geoffroy,
who used to say that modern works were deficient in
power because authors now drank only eau suerée.

I think he made two mistakes, both in the fact and
the consequences.

The age we live in is rich in talents; they injure
each other perhaps by their multitude ; but posterity,
judging with more calmness, will see much to admire.
Thus we do justice to the great productions of Racine
and Moliére which when written were coldly received.

The social position of men of letters was never more
agreeable. They no longer live in the garrets they
used to inhabit, for the field of literature has become
fertile. The stream of Hippocréne rolls down golden
sands: equals of all, they never hear the language of
protection, and gourmandise overwhelms them with its
choicest favours.

Men of letters are courted on account of their tal-
ent, and because their conversation is in general
piquant, and because it has for some time been estab-
lished, that every society should have its man of
letters.
192 GOURMANDS.

These gentlemen always come alittle too late: they
are not however received the most on that account, for
they have been anxiously expected: they are petted
up to induce them to come again, are flattered to make
them brilliant, and as they find all this very natural,
they grow used to it and become genuine gourmands.

DEVOTEES.

Among the friends of gourmandise are many very
devout persons.

By the word devotee, we understand what Louis
XIV. and Moliére did, persons the piety of whom
consists in external observances; pious and charitable
persons have nothing to do with this class.

Let us see how they effect this—among those who
work out their salvation, the greatest number seek the
mildest method. Those who avoid society, sleep on the
ground and wear hair cloth, are always exceptions.

Now there are to them certain damnable things
never to be permitted, such as balls, plays, and other
amusements.

While they and those who enjoy them are abomi-
nated, gourmandise assumes an altogether different
aspect, and becomes almost theological.

Jure diving, man is the king of nature and all that
earth creates was produced for him. For him the
quail becomes fat, the mocha has its perfume, and
sugar becomes beneficial to the health.

Why then should we not use with suitable modera-
GOURMANDS. 193

¢

tion the goods which Providence offers us, especially
as we continue to look on them as perishable things,
and as they exalt our appreciation of the Creator.

Other not less weighty reasons strengthen these—
can we receive too kindly those persons who take
charge of our souls? Should we not make a meeting
with them pleasant and agreeable ?

Sometimes the gifts of Comus come unexpectedly.
An old college companion, an old friend, a penitent
who humbles himself, a kinsman who makes himself
known or a protégé recalls them.

This has ever been the case. '

Convents were the true ware-houses of the most
adorable delacies: for that reason they have been so
much regretted.*

Many monastic orders, especially the Bernardins
paid great attention to good cheer. The cooks of the
clergy reached the very limits of the art, and M. de
Pressigny (who died Archbishop of Besancon) returned
from the conclave which elected Pro Sxsto, he said
the best dinner he ate in Rome was given by the
General of the Capuchins.

CHEVALIERS AND ABBIS.
We cannot bring this article to a better end than to

* The best liquors in France were made of the Visitandines.
The monks of Niort invented the conserve of Angelica, and
the bread flavoured with orange flowers by the notes of Cha-
teau-Thierry is yet famous. The nuns of Belley used also to
make a delicious conserve of nuts. Alas, it is lost, lam afraid.

17
194 GQOURMANDS.

make an honourable mention of two corporations we
saw in all their glory: we mean the Chevaliers and the
Abbés.

How completely gourmand they were. Their ex-
panded nostrils, their acute eyes, and coral lips could
not be mistaken, neither could their gossiping tongue ;
each class, however, ate in a peculiar manner.

There was something military in the bearing of the
Chevaliers. They ate their delicacies with dignity,
worked calmly, and cast horizontal looks of approba-
tion at both the master and mistress of the house.

The Abbés however, used to come to the table with
more care, and reached out their hands as the cat
snatches chestnuts from the fire. Their faces were all
enjoyment, and there was a concentration about their
looks more easy to conceive of, than to describe.

As three-fourths of the present generation have seen
nothing like either the Abbés, or Chevaliers, and as it is
necessary to understand them, to be able to appreciate
many books written in the eighteenth century, we will
borrow from the author of the Historical Treatise on
Duels, a few pages which will fully satisfy all persons
about this subject. (See Varieties, No. 20.)

LONGEVITY OF GOURMANDS.

I am happy, I cannot be more so, to inform my
readers that good cheer is far from being injurious,
and that all things being equal, gourmands live longer
than other people. This was proved by a scientific
GOURMANDS. 195

dissertation recently read at the academy, by Doctor
Villermet.

He compares the different states of society, in which
good cheer is attended to, with those where no atten-
tion is paid to it, and has passed through every scale
of the ladder. He has compared the various portions
of Paris, in which people were more or less comfort-
able. All know that in this respect there is extreme
difference, as for instance between the Faubourg St.
Antoine and the Chaussée d’ Antin.

The doctor extended his research to the depart-
ments of France, and compared the most sterile and
fertile together, and always obtained a general result
in favor of the diminution of mortality, in proportion
universally as the means of subsistence improve.
Those who cannot well sustain themselves will be at
least wise, to know that death will deliver them soon.

The two extremes of this progression are, that in
the most highly favored ranks of life but one individual
in fifty dies, while of those who are poorer four do.

Those who indulge in good cheer, are rarely, or
never sick. Alas! they often fall into the domain of
the faculty, who call them good patients: as however
they have no great degree of vitality, and all portions
of their organization are better sustained, nature has
more resources, and the body incomparably resists
destruction.

This physiological truth may be also sustained by
history, which tells us that as often as impervious cir-

*
196 GOURMANDS.

cumstances, such as war, sieges, the derangement of
seasons, etc., diminish the means of subsistence, such
times have ever been accompanied by contagious dis-
ease and a great increase of mortality.

The idea of Lafarge would beyond a doubt have
succeeded in Paris, if those who had advanced it had
introduced into their calculations the truths developed
by Doctor Villermet.

They calculated mortality according to Buffoon’s
tables, and those of Parcicux and others, all of which
were based on the aggregate of all classes and condi-
tions. Those who made the estimate, however, forgot
the dangers of infancy, indulged in general calcula-
tions, and the speculation failed.

This may not have been the only, but it was the
principal cause.

For this observation, we are indebted to the Profes-
sor Pardessus.

M. de Belloy, archbishop of Paris, had a slight ap-
petite, but a very distinct one. He loved good cheer
and I have often seen his patriarchal face lighten up
at the appearance of any choice dish. Napoleon
always on such occasions paid him deference and re-
spect.
MEDITATION XIII.

GASTRONOMICAL TESTS.

In the preceding chapter, we have seen that the dis-
tinctive characteristics of those who have more preten-
sion than right to the honors of gourmandise, consists
in the fact, that, at the best spread table, their eyes
are dull and their face inanimate.

They are not worthy of having treasures, when they do
not appreciate what is exhibited tothem. It, however,
was very interesting for us to point them out, and we
have sought every where for information on so im-
portant a matter, as who should be our guests and our
hosts.

We set about this with an anxiety which ensures
success, and, in consequence of our perseverance, we
are able to present to the corps of amphitryon, gas-
tronomical tests, a discovery which will do honor to
the nineteenth century.

By gastronomical tests, we mean dishes of so delicious
a flavor that their very appearance excites the gusta-
tory organs of every healthy man. The consequence
is, that all those who do not evince desire, and the

17% (197 )
138 GASTRONOMICAL TESTS

radiancy of ecstasy, may very properly be set down
as unworthy of the honours of the society and the
pleasures attached to them.

The method of tests duly deliberated on, and ex-
amined in the great council, has been described in the
golden book, in words of an unchangeable tongue, as
follows :

Utcumque ferculum, eximitt et bene noti saporis
appositum fuertt, fiat autopsia convivee ; et nist facies
ejus ae ocult vertantur ad eestasim, notetur ut in-
dignus.

This was rendered into the vernacular, by the trans-
lator of the grand council, as follows:

“Whenever a dish of a distinguished.and good flavor
is served, the guests should be attentively watched,
and those, the faces of whom do not express pleasure,
should be marked as unworthy.”

Tests are relative, and should be proportioned to
the various classes of society. All things considered,
it should be arranged so as to create admiration and
surprise. It is a dynameter, the power of which should
increase as we ascend in society. The test for a
householder in La Rue Coquenard, would not suit a
second clerk, and would be unnoticed at the table of a
financier, or a minister. /

In the enumeration of the dishes we think worthy
of being considered as tests, we will begin at the low-
est grade, and will gradually ascend so as to eluci-
date the theory, so that all may not only use it with
GASTRONOMICAL TESTS. 199

benefit, but also invent a new series calculated for the
sphere in which they chance to be placed.

We will now give a list of the dishes we think fit
to be served as tests; we have divided them into three
series of gradual ascents, following the order indi-
cated above.

GASTRONOMICAL TESTS.

FIRST SERIES.—INCOME OF 5,000 FRANCS.

A breast of veal baked in its own juice.

A turkey stuffed with Lyons chestnuts.

Baked pigeons.

Eggs a lu neige.

Sourkrout, with sausages dressed with lard, fume
de Strasburg.

Expression. “ Peste; that looks well; let us pay
our devoirs to it.”

SECOND SERIES.—INCOME 15,000 FRANCS.

A filet de beuf piqué, and baked in its juice, with
pickles.

A quarter of Chevreuil.

Turbot plain.

A Turkey Truffée.

Petits pois.

Exciamation. ‘My dear sir, this is pleasant in-
deed !”
200 GASTRONOMICAL TESTS.

THIRD SERIES.—INCOME 80,000 FRANCS, OR MORE.

A fowl weighing seven pounds, stuffed with truffles,
so that it has become a spheroid.

A patté perigord in the form of a bastion.

A cask a la Chambord richly dressed and deco-
rated.

A pike stuffed with craw-fish secundum artum.

A pheasant dressed a la sainte alliance.

Asparagus, large as possible, served up in osma-
zome.

Two dozen ortolans a la provengale, as the dish is
described in the Cook’s Secretary.

A pyramid of sweet meats, flavored with rose and
vanilla.

Expression. ‘Monsieur, or Monseigneur, your cook
is a man of mind. Such dishes we eat only at your
house.”
MEDITATION XIV.

ON THE PLEASURES OF THE TABLE.

Man of all the animals who live on the earth, is be-
yond doubt, the one who experiences most suffering.

Nature condemned him to suffering by robbing him
of hair, by giving him such a peculiar formation of
his feet, also by the instinct of destruction, and of war
which has followed man every where.

Animals have never been stricken with this curse,
and with the exception of a few contests, caused by
the instinct of reproduction, harm would be absolutely
unknown to the lower animals of creation. Man,
though he cannot appreciate pleasure except by a small
number of organs, may yet be liable to intense agony.

This decree of destiny was engraved by a crowd
of maladies, which originated in the social system.
The result is that the most intense pleasure one can
imagine, cannot atone for certain pains, such as the
gout, the tooth-ache, etc., acute rheumatisms, stric-
tures, and many other diseases we might mention.

This practical fear of pain has had the effect, that

without even perceiving it, man has rushed into an
(201)
202 ON THE PLEASURES OF THE TABLE.

opposite direction, and has devoted himself to the
small number of pleasures nature has placed at his
disposal.

ORIGIN OF THE PLEASURES OF THE TABLE.

Meals, as we understand the word, began at the
second stage of the history of humanity. That is to say
as soon as we ceased to live on fruits alone. The pre-
paration and distribution of food made the union of
the family a necessity, at least once a day. The
heads of families then distributed the produce of the
chase, and grown children did as much for their pa-
rents. .

These collections, limited at first to near relations,
were ultimately extended to neighbors and friends.

At a later day when the human species was more
widely extended, the weary traveler used to sit at
such boards and: tell what he had seen in foreign
lands. Thus hospitality was produced, and its rights
were recognized everywhere. There was never any
one so ferocious as not to respect him who had par-
taken of his bread and salt.

DIFFERENCE BETWEEN THE PLEASURE OF EATING AND
THE PLEASURES OF THE TABLE.

Such from the nature of things, should be the ele-
ments of the pleasures of the table which, where eating
is a necessity, of course takes the precedence.

The pleasure of eating is a peculiar sensation
directed to the satisfaction of a necessity.
ON THE PLEASURES OF THE TABLE. £03

The pleasures of the table is a reflected sensation,
originating in various facts, places, things and per-
sons.

We share with animals in the pleasure of eating.
They and we have hunger which must be satisfied.

It is peculiar to the human race, for it supposes a
predisposition for food, for the place of meeting, and
for guests.

The pleasures of the table exact, if not hunger, at
least appetite. The table is often independent of both
the one and the other.

This we may see at every entertainment.

At the first course every one eats and pays no atten-
tion to conversation; all ranks and grades are forgotten
together in the great manufacture of life. When,
however, hunger begins to be satisfied, reflection be-
gins, and conversation commences. ‘The person who,
hitherto, had been a mere consumer, becomes an ami-
able guest, in proportion as the master of all things
provides him with the means of gratification.

EFFEOTS.

The pleasures of the table afford neither ravishing
pleasure, ecstasy, nor transport, but it gains in inten-
sity what it loses in duration. It is the more valuable
because it exposes‘us to all other gratifications and
even consoles us for their loss.

After a good dinner body and soul enjoy a peculiar
happiness.
204 ON THE PLEASURES OF THE TABLE.

Physically, as the brain becomes refreshed, the face
lightens up, the colors become heightened, and a glow
spreads over the whole system.

Morally, the mind becomes sharpened, witticisms
circulate. If La Farre and Saint Aulaire descend to
posterity with the reputation of spiritual authors, they
owe it especially to the fact that they were pleasant
guests.

Besides, there are often found collected around the
same table, all the modifications of society which
extreme sociability has introduced among us: love,
friendship, business, speculation, power, ambition, and
intrigue, all enhance conviviality. Thus it is that it
produces fruits of all imaginable flavors.

ACCESSORIES.

An immediate consequence of all these antecedents
is that human industry has toiled to augment the
duration of the gratifications of the table.

Poets complain that the throat is too short for the
uses of degustation, and others lament the want of
capacity of the stomach. Some even regret that
digestion is accomplished in a single act and not
divided into two.

This was but an extreme effort to amplify the enjoy-
ments of taste; in this respect, however, it is impossi-
ble to exceed the limits imposed by nature, and an
appeal was made to accessories, which offered more
latitude.
ON THE PLEASURES OF THE TABLE. 905

Vases and goblets were crowned with flowers;
crowns were distributed to the guests, and dinners
served beneath the vault of heaven, in groves, and
amid all the wonders of nature.

Music and song were made to increase the pleasures
of the table. Thus while the king of the Pheacians
ate, the singer Phemius sang the praises of the wars
and warriors of other days.

Often dancers and pantomimists of both sexes, in
all possible costumes, occupied the attention without
injuring the pleasure of the meal. The most exquisite
perfumes were diffused in the air, and guests were
often waited on by unveiled beauty, so that every
sense was appealed to.

I might consume many pages in proving what I
advance. The Greek authors and our old chroniclers
only need to be copied. ‘These researches, however,
only need to be made to be evident, and my erudition
would be of little value

THE 18TH AND 19TH CENTURY.

We have adopted to a greater or less degree various
methods of enjoyment, and have, by new discoveries,
somewhat enhanced the number.

The delicacy of our tastes would not permit the
vomitoria of the Romans to remain. We did better,
however, and accomplished the same object in a more
pleasant manner.

Dishes of such an attractive flavor have been
18
206 ON THE PLEASURES OF THE TABLE.

increased that they perpetually reproduce the appe-
tite. They are so light that they flatter the appetite
without loading the stomach. Seneca would have
called them nudes esculentas.

We have advanced so far in alimentation that if
business called us from the table, or if it became
necessary for us to sleep, the duration of the meal
would have been almost indeterminable.

One must not, however, believe that all of these
accessories are indispensable to the pleasures of the
table. Pleasure is enjoyed in almost all its extent
when the following conditions are united: good cheer,
good wine, a pleasant company, and time.

T have often, therefore, wished to have been present
at one of those pleasant repasts which Horace invited
one of liis neighbors to share, viz: a good chicken, a
lamb (doubtless fat,) and as a desert, grapes, figs and
nuts. Uniting these to wine, made when Manlius was
consul, and the delicious conversation of the poet, I
fancy I could have supped very pleasantly.

At mihi ctim longum post tempus venerat hospes
Sive operum vacuo, longum conviva per imbrem
Vicinus, bené erat non piscibus urbe petitis,

Sed pullo atque haedo, tum* pensilis uva secundas
Et nux ornabat mensas, cum duplice ficu.

Thus it was only yesterday I regaled six friends
with a boiled leg of mutton and a kidney a ?’ Pontozse.

* Le dessert se trouve précis¢ment désigné et distingué par
Vadyerbe tum et par les mots secundas mensas.
ON THE PLEASURES OF THE TABLE. 207

They indulged in the pleasures of conversation so
fully that they forgot that there were richer meats or
better cooks.

On the other hand, let persons make as much
research as possible for good cheer; there is no plea-
sure at the table if the wine be bad, and the guests
collected without care. Faces will then be sure to
seem sad, and the meal will be eaten without con-
sideration.

SUMMARY.

But perhaps the impatient reader will ask how, in
the year of grace 1825, can any table be spread which
will unite all of these conditions ?

I will answer this question. Be attentive, readers.
Gasterea, the most attractive of the muses, inspires
me. I will be as clear as an oracle, and my precepts
will live for centuries :—

‘“‘ Let the number of guests never exceed twelve, so
that the conversation may be general.

‘Let them be so chosen that their occupations may
be varied, their tastes analogous, and that they may
have such points of contact that introduction may be
useless.

“Let the dining-room be furnished with luxury,
the table clean, and the temperature of the room about
16° Réaumur.

“ Let the men be intelligent, but not pedantic—and
the women pretty, but not coquettes.
208 ON THE PLEASURES OF THE TABLE.

“Let the dishes be of exquisite taste, but few in
number at the first course; let those of the second be
as pleasant and as highly perfumed as possible.

“Let the coffee be hot, and let the master select
his own wines.

“Let the reception-room be large enough to permit
those who cannot do without the amusement, to make
up a card party, and also for little coterzes of conver-
sation.

“Let the guests be retained by the pleasures of
society, and by the hope that the evening will not pass
Without some ulterior enjoyment

‘“‘The tea should not be too strong, the roast dishes
should be loaded artistically, and the punch made
carefully.

‘None should begin to retire before eleven o'clock,
and at midnight all should have gone to bed.

“Tf any one has been present at an entertainment
uniting all these conditions, he may boast of having
witnessed his own apotheosis. He will enjoy it the
more, because many other apotheosis have been for-
gotten or mistaken.”

I have said that the pleasure of the table, as I have
described it, was susceptible of long duration, and I
am about to prove it by the history of the longest
meal I ever was present at. It is a bondon I give the
reader as a reward for patient attention to me. Here
it is:—

Thad a family of kinsfolk in the Rue de Bac, con-
ON THE PLEASURES OF THE TABLE. 209

stituted as follows: a doctor, who was seventy-eight ;
a captain, who was seventy-six ; and their sister, Jean-
nette, who was sixty-four. I used to visit them some-
times, and they always received me kindly.

“ Parbleu !” said Doctor Dubois, rising on his toes
one day to tap me on the shoulder; “you have a
long time been bragging about your fondues, (eggs
and cheese,) and you always make our mouths water.
The captain and I will come to dine with you, and we
will see what your famous dish is.”’ (This took place
about 1801.) “ Willingly,” said I, “and to enable
you to see it in all its glory, I will cook it myself. I
am delighted with your proposition, and wish you to
come punctually at ten to-morrow.”

At the appointed time my guests came, clean shaved,
and with their heads powdered. They were two little
old men; yet fresh, however, and well.

They smiled with pleasure when they saw the table
ready, set with three covers, and with two dozen
oysters by each plate.

At the two ends of the table were bottles of Sauterne,
carefullly wiped, except the cork, which indicated that
it had been long bottled.

Alas! I have gradually seen oysters disappear from
breakfast, though they were once so common. They
disappeared with the Addés, who never ate less than a
gross; and the Chevaliers, who ate quite as many. I
regret them but as a philosopher. If time modifies

18 *
210 ON THE PLEASURES OF THE TABLE.

governments, how great must be its influence over
simple usages.

After the oysters, which were very good, grilled kid-
neys, a pate of foie gras with truffles, and then the
fondue.

The elements had been put in a chafing-dish, and
brought to the table with spirits of wine. I set at
once to work, and my two cousins watched every
motion I made.

They were delighted, and asked for the recipe,
which I promised, telling them two anecdotes, which
the reader will perhaps meet with elsewhere.

After the fondue we had the various fruits which
were in season, and a cup of real mocha, made a la
Du Belloy, which was then becoming fashionable. We
ended with two kinds of Uqueurs.

Breakfast being over, I invited my two kinsmen to
take a little exercise, and to accompany me through
my lodgings, which are far from being elegant, and
which my friends, in consequence of their size and
splendor, prefer to the gilding and or molu of the
reign of Louis XV.

I showed them the original bust of my pretty cousin,
Mme. Recarnier by Chinard, and her miniature by
Augustin. They were so much pleased, that the Doc-
tor kissed the latter with his thick lips, and the Captain
took a liberty with the bust of the first, for which I
reproved him. Were all the admirers of the original
to do as he did, the bust would soon be in the condi-
ON THE PLEASURES OF THE TABLE. 211

tion of the famous statue of St. Peter at Rome, which
the kisses of pilgrims have worn away.

I showed them afterwards, casts of old statuary,
some pictures, which are not without merit, my guns,
my musical instruments, and several fine editions of
the French and foreign classics.

They did not forget the kitchen in their voyage of
discovery. I showed them my economical furnace,
my. turnspit by clock-work, my roasting apparatus,
and my vaporiser. They were much surprised, as
every thing in their house was done in the style of
the regency.

Just as we were about to enter the room, the clock
struck two. ‘Peste!’ said the Doctor, “‘the dinner

*y

time and Jeannette awaits us; we must go, not because /

I wish to eat, but I must have my bowl of soup like

Titus diem perdidi.”’ ‘My dear Doctor,” said i,
“why gosofar? what is here? Send some to my cou-
sin and remain here, if you will,and accept my apology
for a somewhat hasty dinner and you will delight me.”

There was an ocular consultation on the matter
between the two brothers, and I at once sent a mes-
senger to the Faubourg St. Germain. I also told my
cook what I wished. After a time, in part with his
own resources and from the neighboring restaurants,
he served us up a very comfortable little dinner.

It was a great gratification to me, to see the sang
froid and quiet nerve with which my kinsmen sat
down, unfolded their napkins and began.
212 ON THE PLEASURES OF THE TABLE.

They met with two surprises which I did not an-
ticipate; I gave them parmesan with soup, and a glass
of dry Madeira. These two novelties had just been
introduced by M. De Tallyrand, the first of our diplo-
matists, to whom we are indebted for so many shrewd
expressive words, and whom: public attention has al-
ways followed with marked interest even when he had
“retired.

, Dinner passed very comfortably, and as far as the
gubstantials and the accessories were concerned, my
friends were as agreeable as they were merry.

After dinner, I proposed a game of pigueé, which
they refused, preferring, as the Captain said, 7 far
niente of the Italians, and we sat around the fireplace.
- In spite of the pleasures of the far niente, I have
often thought that nothing enlivens conversation more
than any occupation which distracts but does not ab-
‘sorb all coversation.

Tea was a novelty to the French at that time. They
however took it; I made it in their presence, and they
took it with greater pleasure, because, hitherto they
had only looked on it as a remedy.

x Long observation had informed me, that one piece
of complaisance ever brings on another, and that after
one step there is no choice but to continue in the same
route.

“You will kill me,” said the Doctor. ‘ You will
make me drunk,” said the Captain. I made no reply,
but rang for rum, sugar, and lemons.
ON THE PLEASURES OF THE TABLE. 218

I made some punch, and while I was preparing
some, excellent well buttered toast was also prepared.

My cousins protested that they could not eat a
morsel more; but, as I was familliar with the attrac-
tion of this simple preparation, I insisted, and the
Captain having taken the first slice, I had no hesita-
tion in ordering more.

Time rolled on, and the clock was on the stroke of
eight. ‘* Let us go,” said the worthies, “for we must
eat a salad with our sister, who has not seen us to day.”

I did not object, and accompanied the two pleasant
old men to their carriage, and saw them leave.

Perhaps, the question may be asked, if their a
visit did not annoy me.

IT answer, no. The attention of my guests was sus-\;.
tained by the preparation of the fondue, by their
examination of my rooms, by a few novelties after
dinner, by the tea, and especially by the punch, which
was the best they had ever tasted.

The Doctor, too, knew all the genealogy and his-
tory of the people of Paris. The Captain had passed?
a portion of his life in Italy, either as a soldier or as
envoy to the Court of Parma. I had travelled much,
and conversation pursued its natural bent. Under
such circumstances time could not but fly rapidly.

On the next day, a letter from the Doctor informed
me, that their little debauch had done them no harm,
but that after a quiet night’s rest, they awoke con-
vinced that they could go over the whole matter again.
MEDITATION XV.

HALTES DE CHASSE.

Amp all the circumstances in life, when eating is
considered valuable, one of the most agreeable is,
doubtless, when there isa pause in the chase. It alone
may be prolonged the most without ennut.

After a few hours exercise, the most eager huntsman
feels a necessity for rest, His face needs caressing
by the morning breeze: he halts, however, not from
necessity, but by that instinctive impulse which tells

» him that his activity is not indefinite.

Shade attracts him, the turf receives him, the mur-
{mur of the rivulet advises him to open the flask he

has brought to revive himself with.*

Thus placed, he takes out the little well baked
‘loaves, uncovers the cold chicken some kind hand has
4 placed in his havresack, and finds the piece of gruyere
“or roquefort, which is to represent a dessert.

* For such purposes, I prefer white wine; it resists heat better
than any other.
(214)
IIALTES DE CHASSE. 215

While he makes these preparations, he is accom-~
panied by the faithful animal God has created a
him; co-operation has overcome distance. They are
two friends, and the servant is at once happy and
proud to be the guest of his master.

It is an appetite equally unknown to the worldly
and devotees: the first do not allow hunger time
to come: the second never indulge in exercises which
produce it.

The repast being prepared, each has its portion ;
why not sleep for a while? Noon is an hour of rest
for all creation.

The pleasures are décuiplés by being shared with
friends. In this case, a more abundant meal is
brought in military chests now employed for both
purposes. All speak of the prowess of one, the
messes at the other, and of the anticipations of the
evening.

What if one should come provided with one of those
vases consecrated to Bacchus, where artificial cold
ices the madrin, the strawberry, and pine-apple juice,
those delicious flavors which spread through the whole
system a luxury unknown to the profane.

We have not, however, reached the last term of |,
progression of pleasure. 4

LADIES.

There are times when our wives, sisters, and cou-
sins are invited to share in these amusements.
216 HALTES DE CHASSE.

At the appointed hour, light carriages, prancing
horses, etc., bearing ladies collect. The toilette of
the ladies is half military, and half coquette. The

. professor will, if he be observant, catch a glimpse of
i\ things not intended for his eye.

The door of the carriages will soon be opened, and
a glimpse will be had of patés de Perigord, the won-
ders of Strasburg, the delicacies of d’Achard, and
all that the best laboratories produce that is transport-
able.

They have not forgotten foaming champagne, a fit
ornament for the hand of beauty. They sit on the
grass—corks fly, all laugh, jest, and are happy.

etite, this emenation of heaven, gives to the meal
a viveeityforeign—to the drawing-room, however well
\ decorated _it-may-be.

All, however, must end; the oldest person present
gives the signal; all arise, men take their guns, and
the ladies their hats—all go, and the ladies disappear
until night.

I have hunted in the centre of France, and in the
very depths of the departments. I have seen at the
resting places carriage loads of women of radiant
beauty, and others mounted on a modest ass, such
as composes the fortunes of the people of Mont-
morency. I have seen them first laugh at the incon-
veniences of the mode of transportation, and then
spread on the lawn a turkey, with transparent jelly,
and a salad ready prepared. I have seen them dance
around a fire lighted for the occasion, and have par-
HALTES DE CHASSE. 217

ticipated in the pleasures of this gypsy sport. I am,
sure so much attraction with so little luxury is neve
met with elsewhere.

Les haltes de la chasse are a yet virgin subject
which we have only touched, we leave the subject to
any one who pleases to take a fancy to it.

19
MEDITATION XVI.

ON DIGESTION.

WE never see what we eat, says an old adage,
except what we digest.

How few, however, know what digestion is, though
it is a necessity equalizing rich and poor, the shepherd
and the king.

The majority of persons who, like M. Jourdan,
talked prose without knowing it, digest without know-
ing how; for them I make a popular history of diges-
tion, being satisfied that M. Jourdan was much better
satisfied when his master told him that he wrote prose.

To be fully acquainted with digestion, one must
know both its antecedents and consequents.

INGESTION.

Appetite, hunger, and thirst, warn us that the body
needs restoration ; pain, that universal monitor, never
ceases to torment us if we do not obey it.

Then comes eating and drinking which are inges-
tion, an operation which begins as soon as the food is
in the mouth, and enters the esophagus.

(218)
ON DIGESTION. 219

During its passage, through a space of a few inches
much takes place.

The teeth divide solid food, the glands which line
the inside of the mouth moisten it, the tongue mingles
the food, presses it against the palate so as to force
out the juice, and then collects the elements in the
centre of the mouth, after which, resting on the lower
jaw, it lifts up the central portion forminga kind of
inclined plane to the lower portion of the mouth where
they are received by the pharynx, which itself con-
tracting, forces them into the cesophagus.

One mouthful having thus been treated, a second
is managed in the same way, and deglutition con-
tinues until appetite informs us that it is time to stop.
It is rarely, though, that it stops here, for as it is on
of the attributes of man to drink without thirst, csi
have taught him to eat without hunger.

To ensure every particle of food reaching the
stomach, two dangers must be avoided.

It must not pass into the passage behind the nose,
which luckily is covered by a veil.

The second is that it must not enter the trachea.
This is a serious danger, for any particle passing into
the trachea, would cause a convulsive cough, which
would last until it was expelled.

An admirable mechanism, however, closes the glottis
while we swallow, and we have a certain instinct which
teaches us not to breathe during deglutition. In
general, therefore, we may say, that in spite of this
220 ON DIGESTION.

strange conformation, food passes easily into the
stomach, where the exercise of the will ceases, and
digestion begins.

DUTY OF THE STOMACH.

Digestion is a purely mechanical operation and the
digestive apparatus, may be considered as a winnow-
ing mill, the effect of which is, to extract all that is nu-
tritious and to get rid of the chaff.

The manner in which digestion is effcted has
been so long a question for argument, and persons
have sought to ascertain if it were effected by coction,
fermentation, solution, chemical, or vital action.

All of these modes have their influence, and the
only error was that many causes were sought to be
attributed to one.

In fact food impregnated by all fluids which fill the
mouth and cesophagus, reaches the stomach where it is
impregnated by the gastric juices, which always fill it.
It is then subjected for several hours to a heat of
30° Réaumer; it is mingled by the organic motion
of the stomach, which their presence excites. They
act on each other by the effect of this juxtaposition
and fermentation must take place. All that is nour-
ishing ferments.

In consequence of all of these operations, chyle is
elaborated and spread over the food, which then passes
the pylorus and enters the intestines. Portion after
portion succeeds until the stomach is empty, thus
evacuating itself as it was filled.
ON DIGESTION. 221

The pylorus is a kind of chamber between the
stomach and the intestines, so constructed that food
once in it can ascend only with great difficulty. This
viscera is sometimes obstructed when the sufferer,
after long and intense agony, dies of hunger.

The next intestine beyond the pylorus is the duode-
num. It is so called because it is twelve fingers long.

When chyle reaches the duodenum, it receives a
new elaboration by being mingled with bile and the
panchreatic juice. It loses the grey color and
acidity it previously possessed, becomes yellow and
commences to assume a stercoral odor, which increases
as it advances to the rectum. The various substances
act reciprocally on each other; there must, conse-
quently, be many analagous gasses produced.

The impulse which ejected chyle from the stomach,
continues and forces the food towards the lower intes-
tines, there the chyle separates itself and is absorbed
by organs intended for the purpose, whence it pro-
ceeds to the liver, to mingle with the blood, which it
revives, and thus repairs the losses of the vital or-
gans and of transpiration.

It is difficult to explain how chyle, which is a lighé
and almost insipid fluid, can be extracted from a mass,
the color of which, and the taste, are so deeply pro-
nounced.

Be that as it may, the preparation of chyle appears
to be the true object of digestion, and as soon as it

19*
eon

222, ON DIGESTION.

mingles with the circulation, the individual becomes
aware of a great increase of physical power.

The digestion of fluids is less complicated than
that of solids, and can be explained in a few words.

The purely liquid portion is absorbed by the stom-
ach, and thrown into circulation; thence it is taken
to the veins by the arteries and filtered by urethras,*
which pass them as urine, to the bladder.

When in this last receptacle, and though restrained
by the spinchter muscle, the urine remains there but
a brief time; its exciting nature causes a desire to
avoid it, and soon voluntary constriction emits it
through canals, which common consent does not per-
mit us to name.

Digestion varies in the time it consumes, according
to the temperament of individuals. The mean time,
however, is seven hours, viz., three hours for the
stomach, and the rest of the time for the lower intes-
tines.

From this exposé which I have selected from the
most reliable authors, I have separated all anatomical
rigidities, and scientific abstractions. My readers
/ #vall thence be able to judge where the last meal they
ate is: vtz., during the first three hours in the stom-
ach, later in the intestinal canal, and after seven
hours, awaiting expulsion.

* These urethras are conduits of the size of a pea, which
start from the kidneys, and end at the upper neck of the
bladder.
ON DIGESTION. 223

INFLUENCE OF DIGESTION.

Of all corporeal operations, digestion is the one //
which has the closest connection with the moral con- 0
dition of man.

This assertion should amaze no one; things cannot
be otherwise.

The principles of physiology tells us that the soul|
is lable to impressions only in proportion as the or
gans subjected to it have relation to external objects,
whence it follows that when these organs are badly
preserved, badly restored, or irritated, this state of,

  
  
 

degradation exerts a necessary influence on sensations, |
which are the intermediates of mental operations.

Thus the habitual manner in which digestion is per-
formed or affected, makes us either sad, gay, taciturn
gossiping morose or melancholy, without our feingy
able to doubt the fact, or to resist it for a moment. oF

In this respect, humanity may be arranged under
three categories; the regular, the reserved, and the
uncertain.

Each of the persons who belong to each of the
series, not only have similar dispositions, and propen-
sities, but there is something analagous and similar in
the manner in which they fulfill the mission from which
chance during their lives has separated them.

To exhibit an example, I will go into the vast field
of literature. I think men of letters frequently owe
all their characteristics to their peculiar mode of life.
224 ON DIGESTION.

Comic poets must be of one kind, tragic poets of
another, and elegiac, of the uncertain class. The
‘most elegiac and the most comic are only separated
by a variety of digestive functions.

By an application of this principle to courage,
when Prince Eugene of Savoy, was doing the greatest
injury to France, some one said, “Ah, why can I
not send him a paté de fove gras, three times a week
I would make him the greatest sluggard of Hurope.”

“Let us hurry our men into action, while a little
beef is left in their bowels,” said an English general.

Digestion in the young isvery often accompanied by
a slight chill, and in the old, by a great wish to sleep.

In the first case, nature extracts the coloric from
the surface to use it in its laboratory. In the second,
thesame power debilitated by age cannot at once satisfy
both digestion and the excitement of the senses.

When digestion has just begun, it is dangerous to
yield to a disposition for mental work. One of the
greatest causes of mortality is, that some men after
having dined, and perhaps too well dined, can neither
close their eyes nor their ears.

This observation contains a piece of advice, which
should even attract the most careless youth, usually
attentive to nothing. It should also arrest the atten-
tion of grown men, who forget nothing, not even that
time never pauses, and which is a penal law to those
on the wrong side of fifty.

Some persons are fretful while digestion is going on.
ON DIGESTION. 225

At that time, nothing should be suggested to and no
favors asked of them.

Among these was marshal Augereau, who, during
the first hour after dinner, slaughtered friends and
enemies indiscriminately.

Ihave heard it said, that there were two persons in
the army, whom the general-in-chief always wished
to have shot, the commissary-in-chief and the head of
his general staff. They were both present. Cherin
the chief of staff, talked back to him, and the com-
missary, though he said nothing, did not think a bit
the less.

At that time, I was attached to his general staff,
and always had a plate at his table. I used, however,
to go thither rarely, being always afraid of his peri-
odical outbreaks, and that he would send me to dinner
to finish my digestion.

I met him afterwards at Paris, and as he testified
his regret that he had not seen me oftener, I did not
conceal the reason. We laughed over the matter and
he confessed that I was not wrong.

We were then at Offenbourg, and a complaint was
made by the staff that we ate no game nor fish.

This complaint was well founded, for it is a maxim,
of public law, that the conquerors should always live
at the expense of the conquered. On that very day
I wrote a letter to the master of the forests to point
out a remedy.

This official was an old trooper, who doubtless was
226 ON DIGESTION.

unwilling to treat us kindly lest we should take root
in this territory. His answer was negative and eva-
sive. The game keepers, afraid of our soldiers, had
gone, the fishermen were insubordinate, the water
muddy, etc. To all this, I said nothing, but I sent
him ten grenadiers to be lodged and fed until further
orders.

The remedy was effective ; for early on the next day
after, I saw a heavily loaded wagon come. The game-
keepers had come back, the fishermen were submissive ;
we had game and fish enough to last for a week.

We had kid, snipe, lark, pike, ete.

When I received the offering, I freed the superin-
tendent from his troublesome guests, and during the
whole time we remained in that part of the country,
we had nothing to complain of.
MEDITATION XVII.

REPOSE.

Man is not made to enjoy an indefinite activity ;
nature has destined him to.a variable existence, and
his perceptions must end after a certain time. This
time of activity may be prolonged, by varying the
nature of the perceptions to be experienced, and a con-
tinuity of life brings about a desire for repose.

Repose leads to sleep, and sleep produces dreams.

Here we find ourselves on the very verge of hu-
manity, for the man who sleeps is something more @

than a mere social being: the law protects, but_does

not command him.

Here a very singular fact told me by Dom Duhaget,
once prior of the Chartreuse convent of Pierre Chatel,
presents itself.

Dom Duhaget was a member of a very good family
in Gascogne, and had served with some distinction as
a captain of infantry. He was a knight of St Louis.

Lneverknew any one, the conversation of whom was
more pleasant. ail

‘There was,” said he, “before I went to Pierre

Chatel, a monk of a very melancholy humor, whose
(227)
228 ON REPOSE,

character was very sombre, and who was looked upon
as a somnambulist.

“ He used often to leave his cell, and when he went
astray, people were forced to guide him back again.
Many attempts had been made to cure him, but in vain.

“One evening I had not gone to bed at the usual
hour, but was in my office looking over several papers,
when I saw this monk enter in a perfect state of som-
nambulism.

“‘His eyes were open but fixed, and he was clad in
the tunic in which he should have gone to bed, but he
had a huge knife in his hand.

‘“¢He came at once to my bed, the position of which
he was familiar with, and after having felt my hand,
struck three blows which penetrated the mattrass on
which I laid.

“As he passed in front of me his brows were knit,
and I saw an expression of extreme gratification per-
vaded his face.

“ The light of two lamps on my desk made no impres-
sion, and he returned as he had come, opening the
doors which led to his cell, and I soon became satisfied
that he had quietly gone to bed.

“You may,” said the Prior, “fancy my state after
this terrible apparition; I trembled at the danger I
had escaped, and gave thanks to Providence. My emo-
tion, however, was so great that during the balance of
the night I could not sleep.

“On the next day I sent for the somnambulist and
ON REPOSE. 929

asked him what he had dreamed of during the pre-
ceding night.

‘*When I asked the question he became troubled.
‘Father,’ said he, ‘I had so strange a dream that it
really annoys me; I fear almost to tell you for I am
sure the devil has had his hand in it.’ ‘I order you to
tell me,’ said I, ‘dreams are involuntary and this may
only be an illusion. Speak sincerely to me.’ ‘Father,’
said he, ‘I had scarcely gone to sleep when I dreamed
that you had killed my mother, and when her bloody
shadow appeared to demand vengeance, I hurried into
your cell, and as I thought stabbed you. Not long
after I arose, covered with perspiration, and thanked
God that I had not committed the crime I had medi-
tated.’ ‘It has been more nearly committed,’ said I,
with a kind voice, ‘than you think.’

“T then told him what had passed, and pointed out
to him the blows he had aimed at me.

“He cast himself at my feet, and all in tears wept
over the involuntary crime he had thought to commit,
and besought me to inflict any penance I might think
fit.

“¢No,’ said I, ‘I will not punish you for an involun-
tary act. Henceforth, though I excuse you from the
service of the night, I inform you that your cell
will be locked on the outside and never be opened
except to permit you to attend to the first mass.’ ”’

If in this instance, from which a miracle only saved
him, the Prior had been killed, the monk would not

20
230 ON REPOSE.

have suffered, for he would have committed a homicide
not a murder.

TIME OF REST.

The general laws of the globe we inhabit have an
influence on the human race. The alternatives of
day and night are felt with certain varieties over the
whole globe, but the result of all this is the indication
of a season of quiet and repose. Probably we would
not have been the same persons had we lived all our
lives without any change of day or night.

Be this as it may, when one has enjoyed for a
certain length of time a plentitude of life a time

“comes when he can enjoy nothing; his impressibility
\gradually decreases, and the effects on each of his
senses are badly arranged. The organs are dull and
the soul becomes obtuse.

It is easy to see that we have had social man under

[osierston, surrounded by all the attractions of civi-

lization. The necessity of this is peculiarly evident
to all who are buried either in the studio, travel, as
soldiers, or in any other manner.

In repose our mother nature especially luxuriates.

The man who really reposes, enjoys a happiness
which is as general as it is indefinable; his arms sink

‘by their own weight, his fibres distend, his brain
becomes refreshed, his senses become calm, and his
sensations obtuse. He wishes for nothing, he does
not reflect, a veil of gauze is spread before his eyes,
and in a few moments he will sink to sleep.
MEDITATION XVIII.

SLEEP.

THOUGH some men be organized that they may be
said not to sleep, yet the great necessity of the want
of sleep is well defined as is hunger or thirst. The
advanced sentinels of the army used often to sleep
though they filled their eyes with snuff.

DEFINITION.

Sleep is a physical condition, during which man
separates himself from external objects by the inac-
tivity of his senses, and has only a mechanical life.

Sleep, like night, is preceded and followed by two
twilights. The one leads to inertion, the other to
activity.

Let us seek to elucidate these phenomena.

When sleep begins, the organs of the senses fall
almost into inactivity. Taste first disappears, then
the sight and smell. The ear still is on the alert, and
touch never slumbers. It ever warns us of danger to
which the body is liable.

Sleep is always preceded by a more or less volup-
tuous sensation. The body yields to it with pleasure,

(231)
232. SLEEP.

being certain of a prompt restoration. The soul gives
up to it with confidence, hoping that its means of
action will be retempered.

From the fact of their not appreciating this sensa-
tion, savants of high rank have compared sleep to
death, which all living beings resist as much as possi-
ble, and which even animals show a horror of.

{Like all pleasures, sleep becomes a passion. Per-
‘. sons have been known to sleep away three-quarters of
_ their life. Like all other passions it then exerts the
worst influences, producing idleness, indolence, sloth
C and death.

The school of Salernum granted only seven hours
to sleep without distinction to sex or age. This maxim
was too severe, for more time is needed by children,
and more should, from complaisance, be granted to
women. Though whenever more than ten hours is
passed in bed there is abuse.

In the early hours of crepuscular sleep, will yet
exists. We can rouse ourselves, and the eye has not
yet lost all its power. Mon omnidus dormio, said Me-
cenes, and in this state more than one husband has ac-
quireda sad certainty. Some ideas yet originate but are
incoherent. There are doubtful lights, and sce indis-
tinct forms flit around. This condition does not last
long, for sleep soon becomes absolute.

What does the soul do in the interim? It lives in
itself, and like a pilot in a calm, like a mirror at night,
a lute that no one touches, awakes new excitement.
SLEEP. 233

Some psycologists, among others the count of
Redern, say that the soul always acts. The evidence
is, that a man aroused from sleep always preserves a
memory of his dreams.

There is something in this observation, which de-
serves verification.

This state of annihilation, however, is of brief du-
ration, never exceeding more than five or six hours:
losses are gradually repaired, an obscure sense of ex-
istence manifests itself, and the sleeper passes into
the empire of dreams.

20 *
MEDITATION XIX.

DREAMS.

Dreams are material impressions on the soul, with-
out the intervention of external objects.

These phenomena, so common in ordinary times,
are yet little known.

\ The fault resides with the savants who did not allow
if ip a sufficiently great number of instances. Time
Ci ‘will however remedy this, and the double nature of

man will be better known.

In the present state of science, it must be taken for
granted that there exists a fluid, subtle as it is power-
ful, which transmits to the brain the impressions
received by the senses. This excitement is the cause
of ideas.

Absolute sleep is the deperdition or inertia of this
fluid.

We must believe that the labors of digestion and
assimulation do not cease during sleep, but repair
losses so that there is a time when the individual
having already all the necessities of action is not ex-
cited by external objects.

(234)
DREAMS. 235

Thus the nervous fluid—movable from its nature,
passes to the brain, through the nervous conduits. It
insinuates itself into the same places, and follows the
old road. It produces the same, but less intense effects.

I could easily ascertain the reason of this. When
man is impressed by an external object, sensation is
sudden, precise, and involuntary. The whole organ is
in motion. When on the contrary, the same impres-
sion is received in sleep, the posterior portion of the
nerves only is in motion, and the sensation is in con-
sequence, less distinct and positive. To make our-
selves more easily understood, we will say that when
the man is awake, the whole system is impressed,
while in sleep, only that portion near the brain is
affected.

We know, however, that in voluptuous dreams, na-
ture is almost as much gratified as by our waking sen-
sations ; there is, however, this difference in the organs,
for each sex has all the elements of gratification.

.

When the nervous fluid is taken to our brain, it is
always collected in vats, so to say, intended for the use
of one of our senses, and for that reason, a certain series
of ideas, preferable to others, are aroused. Thus we
see when the optic nerve is excited, and hear when
those of the ear are moved. Let us here remark that
taste and smell are rarely experienced in dreams. We
dream of flowers, but not of their perfume; we see a
236 DREAMS.

magnificently arranged table, but have no perception
of the flavor of the dishes.

This is a subject of enquiry worthy of the most
distinguished science. We mean, to ascertain why
certain senses are lost in sleep, while others preserve
almost their full activity. No physiologist has ever
taken care of this matter.

Let us remark that the influences we are subject to
when we sleep, are internal. Thus, sensual ideas are
nothing after the anguish we suffer at a dream of the
death of a loved child. At such moments we awake
to find ourselves weeping bitterly.

NATURE OF DREAMS.

Whimsical as some of the ideas which visit us in
dreams may be, we will on examination find they are
either recollections, or combinations of memory. I
am inclined to say that dreams are the memory of
sensations.

Their strangeness exists only in the oddity of asso-
ciation which rejects all idea of law and of chronology,
of propriety and time. No one, however, ever dreamed
of any thing absolutely unknown to him.

No one will be amazed at the strangeness of our
dreams, when we remember,, that, when awake, our
senses are on the alert, and respectively rectify each
other. When a man sleeps, however, every sensation
is left to his own resources.

I am inclined to compare these two conditions of the
DREAMS. 237

brain, to a piano at which some great musician sits,
and who as he throws his fingers over the keys recalls
some melody which he might harmonize if he use all
his power. This comparison may be extended yet fur-
ther, when we remember that reflection is to ideas,
what harmony is to sounds; that certain ideas contain
others, as a principle sound contains the others which
follow it, etc. etc.

SYSTEM OF DR. GALL.

Having followed thus far a subject which is not
without interest, I have come to the confines of the
system of Dr. Gall who sustains the multiformity of
the organs of the brain.

I cannot go farther, nor pass the limits I have im-
posed on myself: yet from the love of science, to
which it may be seen I am no stranger, I cannot re-
frain from making known two observations I made
with care, and which are the more important, as many
persons will be able to verify them.

FIRST OBSERVATION.

About 1790 there was in a little village called Gev-
rin, in the arrondissement of Belley a very shrewd
tradesman named Landot, who had amassed a very
pretty fortune.

All at once he was stricken with paralysis. The
Doctors came to his assistance, and preserved his life,
not however without loss, for all of his faculties espe-
238 DUuEAMS.

cially memory was gone. He however got on well
enough, resumed his appetite and was able to attend
to his business.

When seen to be in this state, all those with whom
he ever had dealings, thought the time for his re-
venge was come, and under the pretext of amusing
him, offered all kinds of bargains, exchanges, etc.
They found themselves mistaken, and had to relinquish
their hopes.

The old man had lost none of his commercial facul-
ties. Though he forgot his own name and those of his
servants, he was always familiar with the price-cur-
rent, and knew the exact value of every acre and vine-
yard in the vicinity.

In this respect his judgment had been uninjured, and
the consequence was, that many of the assailants were
taken in their own snares.

SECOND OBSERVATION,

At Belley, there was a M. Chirol, who had served
for a long time in the gardes du corps of Louis XV.
and XVI.

He had just sense enough for his profession, but he
was passionately fond of all kinds of games, playing
Vhombre, piquet, whist, and any new game that from
time to time might be introduced.

M. Chirol also became apopletic and fell into a state
of almost absolute insensibility. Two things however
were spared, his faculty for digestion, and his passion
for play.
DREAMS. 259

He used to go every day to a house he had been
used to frequent, sat in a corner and seemed to pay
no attention to any thing that passed around him.

When the time came to arrange the card parties,
they used to invite him to take a hand. Then it
became evident that the malady which had prostrated
the majority of his faculties, had not affected his play.
Not long before he died, M. Chirol gave a striking
proof that this faculty was uninjured.

There came to Belley, a banker from Paris, the
name of whom I think was Delins. He had letters
of introduction, he was a Parisian, and that was enough
in a small city to induce all to seek to make his time
pass agreeably as possible.

Delins was a gourmand, and was fond of play. In
one point of view he was easily satisfied, for they used
to keep him, every day, five or six hours at the table.
It was difficult, however, to amuse his second faculty.
He was fond of piquet and used to talk of six francs
a fiche, far heavier play than we indulged in.

To overcome this obstacle, a company was formed
in which each one risked something. Some said that
the people of Paris knew more than we; and others
that all Parisians were inclined to boasting. The
company was however formed, and the game was
assigned to M. Chirol.

When the Parisian banker saw the long pale face,
and limping form opposed to him, he fancied at first,
that he was the butt of joke: when, however, he saw
240 DREAMS.

the artistic manner with which the spectre handled the
cards, he began to think he had an adversary worthy
of him, for once.

He was not slow in being convinced that the faculty
yet existed, for not only in that, but in many other
games was Delins so beaten that he had to pay more
than six hundred francs to the company, which was
carefully divided.

RESULT.

The consequences of these two observations are
easily deduced. It seems clear that in each case, the
blow which deranged the brain, had spared for a long
time, that portion of the organ employed in commerce
and in gaming. It had resisted it beyond doubt, be-
cause exercise had given it great power, and because
deeply worked impressions had exerted great influ-
ence on it.

AGE.

Age has great influence on the nature of dreams.
_In infancy we dream of games, gardens, flowers,
nd other smiling objects; at a later date, we dream
of pleasure, love, battles, and marriages; later still
we dream of princely favors, of business, trouble and
long departed pleasures.

  
 

PHENOMENA OF DREAMS.

Certain strange phenomena accompany sleep and
dreams. Their study may perhaps account for an-
DREAMS. O41

thropomania, and for this reason I record here, three
observations, selected from a great many made by
myself during the silence of night.

FIRST OBSERVATION.

I dreamed one night, that I had discovered a
means to get rid of the laws of gravitation, so that
it became as easy to ascend as descend, and that I
could do either as I pleased.

This estate seemed delicious to me; perhaps many
persons may have had similar dreams. One curious
thing however, occurs to me, which I remember, I
explained very distinctly to myself the means which
led me to such a result, and they seemed so simple,
that I was surprised I had not discovered it sooner.

As I awoke, the whole explanation escaped my
mind, but the conclusion remained; since then, I will
ever be persuaded of the truth of this observation.

SECOND OBSERVATION.

A few months ago while asleep I experienced a
sensation of great gratification. It consisted in a
kind of delicious tremor of all the organs of which
my body was composed, a violet flame played over
my brow.

Lambere flamma comas, et circum temporo pasci.

I think this physical state did not last more than
21
242 DREAMS. ‘

twenty seconds, and I awoke with a sensation of
Something of terror mingled with surprise.

This sensation I can yet remember very distinctly,

and from various observations have deduced the con-
clusion that the limits of pleasure are not, as yet,
either known or defined, and that we do not know
how far the body may be beatified. I trust that in
the course of a few centuries, physiology will explain
these sensations and recall them at will, as sleep is
produced by opium, and that posterity will be re-
warded by them for the atrocious agony they often
suffer from when sleeping.

The proposition I have announced, to a degree is
sustained by analogy, for I have already remarked
that the power of harmony which procures us such
acute enjoyments, was totally unknown to the Romans.
This discovery is only about five hundred years old.

THIRD OBSERVATION.

In the year vi1z (1800,) I went to bed as usual and
woke up about one, as I was in the habit of doing.
I found myself in a strange state of cerebral excite-
ment, my preception was keen, my thoughts profound ;
the sphere of my intelligence seemed increased, I
sat up and my eyes were affected with a pale, vapor-
ous, uncertain light, which, however, did not enable
me to distinguish objects accurately.

Did I only consult the crowd of ideas which suc-
ceeded so rapidly, I might have fancied that this state
’ DREAMS. 243

lasted many hours; I am satisfied, however, that it
did not last more than half an hour, an external acci-
dent, unconnected with volition, however, aroused me
from it, and I was recalled to the things of earth.

When the luminous apparition disappeared, I be-
came aware of asense of dryness, and, in fact, re-
gained my waking faculties. As I was now wide
awake, my memory retained a portion of the ideas
(indistinctly) which crossed my mind.

The first ideas had time as their subject. It seemed
to me that the past, present and future, became
identical, were narrowed down to a point, so that it
was as easy to look forward into the future, as
back into the past. This is all I remember of this
first intuition, which was almost effaced by subsequent
ones.

Attention was then directed to the senses, which
I followed in the order of their perfection, and fan-
cying that those should be examined which were
internal as well as external, I began to follow them
out.

I found three, and almost four, when I fell again to
earth.

1. Compassion is a sensation we feel about the heart
when we see another suffer.

2. Predilection is a feeling which attracts us not
only to an object, but to all connected with it.

3. Sympathy is the feeling which attracts two be-
ings together.
244 DREAMS. 4

From the first aspect, one might believe that these
two sentiments are one, and the same. They cannot,
however, be confounded ; for predilection is not always
reciprocal, while sympathy must be.

While thinking of compassion, I was led to a deduc-
tion I think very just, and which at another time I
would have overlooked. It is the theory on which all
legislation is founded.

DO AS YOU WILL BE DONE BY.

Alteri ne facias, quod tibi fiert non vis.

Such is an idea of the state in which I was, and to

lenjoy it again, I would willingly relinquish a month
of my life.

\ In bed we sleep comfortably, in a horizontal posi-
ion and with the head warm. Thoughts and ideas
ome quickly and abundantly; expressions follow, and
as to write one has to get up, we take off the night
cap and go to the desk.

Things all at once seem to change. The examina-
tion becomes cold, the thread of our ideas is broken;
we are forced to look with trouble, for what was found
so easily, and we are often forced to postpone study
to another day.

All this is easily explained by the effect produced
on the brain by a change of position. The influence
of the physic and moral is here experienced.

Following out this observation, I have perhaps gone
rather far, but I have been induced to think that the
DREAMS. 245

excitability of oriental nations, was, in a manner, due
to the fact, that, in obedience to the religion of Ma-
homet, they used to keep the head warm, for a reason
exactly contrary to that which induced all monastic
legislators to enjoin shaven crowns.

21*
MEDITATION Xx.

INFLUENCE OF DIET ON REST, SLEEP AND DREAMS.

WHETHER man sleeps, eats, or dreams, he is yet sub-
ject to the laws of nutrition and to gastronomy.

Theory and experience, beth admit that the quan-
tity and quality of food have a great influence on our
repose, rest, and dreams.

EFFECTS OF DIET ON LABOR.

A man who is badly fed, cannot bear for a long
time, the fatigues of prolonged labor; his strength
even abandons him, and to him rest is only loss of
power.

If his labor be mental, his ideas are crude and un-
decided. Reflection contributes nothing to them, nor
does judgment analyze them. The brain exhausts
itself in vain efforts and the actor slumbers on the bat-
tle-field.

I always thought that the suppers of Auteuil and
those of the hotels of Rambouillet and Soissons, formed
many of the authors of the reign of Louis XIV.
Geoffrey was not far wrong when he characterised the

( 246 )
INFLUENCE OF DIET ON REST, ETC. DAT

authors of the latter part of the eighteenth century
as eau sucrée. That was their habitual beverage.

According to these principles, I have examined the
works of certain well known authors said to have been
poor and suffering, and I never found any energy in
them, except when they were stimulated by badly con-
ceived envy.

On the eve of his departure for Boulogne, the Em-
peror Napoleon fasted for thirty hours, both with his
council and with the various depositories of his power,
without any refreshment other than two very brief
meals, and a few cups of coffee.

Brown, mentions an admiralty clerk, who, having
lost his memorandum, without which he could not carry
on his duty, passed fifty-two consecutive hours in pre-
paring them again. Without due regimen, he never
could have borne the fatigue and sustained himself as
follows:—At first, he drank water, then wine, and
ultimately took opium.

I met one day a courier, whom I had known in the
army, on his way from Spain, whither he had been
sent with a government dispatch. (Correo ganando
horas.) -

He made the trip in twelve days, having halted only
four hours in Madrid, to drink a few glasses of wine,
and to take some soup. ‘This was all the nourishment
he took during this long series of sleepless nights and
fatigues. He said that more solid sustenance would
have made it impossible for him to continue his journey.

.
248 INFLUENCE OF DIET

DREAMS.

Diet has no trifling influence on sleep and dreams,

A hungry man cannot sleep, for the pain he suf-
fers keeps him awake. If weakness or exhaustion
overcome him, his slumber is light, uneasy and broken.

A person, however, who has eaten too much, sinks
at once to sleep. If he dreams, he remembers no-
thing of it, for the nervous fluid has been intercepted
in the passages. He awakes quickly, and when
awake is very sensible of the pains of digestion.

We may then lay down, as a general rule, that
coffee rejects sleep. Custom weakens and even causes
this inconvenience entirely to disappear. Europeans,
whenever they yield to it, always feel its power. Some
food, however, gently invites sleep; such as that
which contains milk, the whole family of letuces,
etc., etc.

CONSEQUENCE.

Experience relying on a multitude of observations,
has informed us that diet has an influence on dreams.

In general, all stimulent food excites dreams, such
as flock game, ducks, venison and hare.

This quality is recognised in asparagus, celery,
truffles, perfume, confectioneries and vanilla.

It would be a great mistake to think that we should
banish from our tables all somniferous articles. The
dreams they produce are in general agreeable, light,
ON REST, SLEEP, AND DREAMS. 249

and prolong our existence even when it is sus-
pended.

There are persons to whom sleep is a life apart,
and whose dreams are serial, so that they end in one
night a dream begun on the night before. While
asleep they distinguish faces they remember to have
seen, but which they never met with in the real world.

RESULT.

A person who reflects on his physical life and who
does so according to the principles we develop, #s the
one who prepares sagaciously for rest, sleep and
dreams. /

He distributes his labor so that he never over-tasks
himself, he lightens it and refreshes himself by brief
intervals of rest, which relieve him, without interrupt-|
ing its continuity, sometimes a duty.

If longer rest is required during the day, he in-
dulges in it only in a sitting attitude ; he refuses sleep
unless he be forced irresistibly to use it, and is careful
not to make it habitual.

When night brings about the hour of repose, he
retires to an airy room, does not wrap himself up in
curtains, which make him breathe the same air again
and again, and never closes the blinds so that when
he wakes he will meet with at least one ray of light.

He rests in a bed with the head slightly higher
than the feet. His pillow is of hair; his night cap:
of cloth, and his breast unincumbered by a mass of
250 INFLUENCE OF DIET, ETC.

overings; he is careful, however, to keep his feet:
warm.

He eats with discretion, and never refuses good and
xcellent cheer. He drinks prudently, even the best
ine. At dessert he talks of gallantry more than of
olitics, makes more madrigals than epigrams. He
akes his coffee, if it suits his constitution, and after-

wards swallows a spoonful of liquor, though it be only
to perfume his breath. He is, in all respects, a good
guest, and yet never exceeds the limits of discretion.

In his state, satisfied with himself and others, he
lies down and sinks to sleep. Mysterious dreams
then give an agreeable life; he sees those he loves,
indulges in his favorite occupations, and visits places
which please him.

Then he feels his slumber gradually pass away, and
does not regret the time he has lost, because even in
his sleep, he has enjoyed unmixed pleasure and an
activity without a particle of fatigue.
MEDITATION XXI.

OBESITY.

Were I a physician with a diploma, I would have
written a whole book on obesity ; thus I would have
acquired a domicil in the domain of science, and
would have had the double satisfaction of having, as
patients, persons who were perfectly well, and of being
besieged by the fairer portion of humanity. To have
exactly fat enough, not a bit too much, or too little,
is the great study of women of every rank and grade.

What I have not done, some other person will do,
and if he be learned and prudent, (and at the same
time a good-fellow,) I foretell that he will have won-
derful success.

Exoriare aliquis nostris ex ossibus heres!

In the intereim, I intend to prepare the way for
him. A chapter on obesity is a necessary concomi-
tant of a book which relates so exclusively to eating.

Obesity is that state of greasy congestion in which
without the sufferer being sick, the limbs gradually
increase in volume, and lose their form and harmony.

(251)
952 OBESITY.

One kind of obesity is restricted to the stomach, |
and I have never observed it in women. Their fibres
are generally softer, and when attacked with obesity
nothing is spared. I call this variety of obesity gas-
trophoria. Those attacked by it, I call gastrophorous.
I belong to this category, yet, though my stomach is
rather prominent, I have a round and well turned leg.
My sinews are like those of an Arab horse.

I always, however, looked on my stomach as a for-
midable enemy: I gradually subdued it, but after a
long contest. Iam indebted for all this to a strife of
thirty years.

I will begin my treatise by an extract from a collec-
tion of more than five hundred dialogues, which at
various times I have had with persons menaced with
obesity.

An OxbzEsz.—What delicious bread! where do you
get it?

J.—From Limet, in the Rue Richelieu, baker to
their Royal Highness, the Duc d’Orleans, and the
Prince de Condé. I took it from him because he was
my neighbour, and have kept to him because he is the
best bread maker in the world.

OxsesE.—I will remember the address. I eat a
great deal of bread, and with such as this could do
without any dinner.

Oxsrse No. 2.—What are you about? You are eat-
ing your soup, but set aside the Carolina rice it con-
tains !
OBESITY. 253

I.—Ah: that it is a regimen I subject myself to.

OBEsE.—It is a bad regimen. I am fond of rice
patés and all such things. Nothing is more nour-
ishing.

AN IMMENSE OBESE.—Do me the favor to pass me
the potatoes before you. They go so fast that I fear
I shall not be in time.

I.—There they are, sir.

OsEsE.—But you will take some? There are
enough for two, and after us the deluge.

I.—Not I. Ilook on the potatoe as a great preser-
vative against famine ; nothing, however, seems to me
so pre-eminently fade.

OpEsE.—That is a gastronomical heresy. Nothing
is better than the potatoe; I eat them in every way.

AN Osese Lapy.—Be pleased to send me the Sois-
sons haricots I see at the other end of the table.

I.—(Having obeyed the order, hummed in a low
tone, the well known air -)

“ Les Sotssonnais sont heureux,
Les haricots sont chez eux.”

Ozxse.—Do not laugh: itis a real treasure for this
country. Paris gains immensely by it. I will thank
you to pass me the English peas. When young they
are food fit for the gods.

I.—Anathema on beans and peas.

Oxese.—Bah, for your anathema; you talk as if
you were a whole council.

22
254 OBESITY.

I.—(Zo another.) I congratulate you on your good
health, it seems to me that you have fattened some-
what, since I last saw you.

Oxzrse.—I probably owe it to a change of diet.

I.—How so?

Ozrst.—For some time I eat a rich soup for break-
fast, and so thick that the spoon would stand up in it.

I.—( To another.) Madame, if Ido not mistake, you
will accept a portion of this charlotte? I will attack it.

Oxzesz.—No, sir. I have two things which I prefer.
This gateau of rice and that Savoy biscuit—I am very
fond of sweet things.

I.—While they talk politics, madame, at the other
end of the table, will you take a piece of this tourte
a la frangipane ?

Osrss.—Yes; I like nothing better than pastry.
We have a pastry-cook in our house as a lodger, and
I think my daughter and I eat up all his rent.

I.—(Looking at the daughter.) You both are bene-
fitted by the diet. Your daughter is a fine looking
young woman.

Oxsrse Lapy.—Yes; but there are persons who say
she is too fat.

I.—Ah! those who do so are envious, etc., ete.

By this and similar conversations I elucidate a theory
I have formed about the human race, viz: Greasy
corpulence always has, as its first cause, a diet with too
much farinacious or feculent substance. I am sure
the same regime will always have the same effect.
OBESITY. 255

Carniverous animals never become fat. One has
only to look at the wolf, jackal, lion, eagle, ete.

Herbiverous animals do not either become fat until
age has made repose a necessity. They, however,
fatten quickly when fed on potatoes, farinacious grain,
ete

Obesity is rarely met with among savage nations,
or in that class of persons who eat to live, instead of
living to eat.

CAUSES OF OBESITY.

From the preceding observation, the causes of which
any one may verify, it is easy to ascertain the princi-
ple causes of obesity.

The first is the nature of the individual. Almost
all men are born with predispositions, the impress of
which is borne by their faces. Of every hundred
persons who die of diseases of the chest, ninety have
dark hair, long faces and sharp noses. Of every
hundred obese persons, ninety have short faces, blue
eyes, and pug noses.

Then there are beyond doubt persons predestined
to obesity, the digestive powers of whom elaborate a
great quantity of grease.

This physical fact, of the truth of which I am fully
satisfied, exerts a most important influence on our
manner of looking at things.

When we meet in society, a short, fat, rosy, short-
nosed individual, with round limbs, short feet, etc., all
256 OBESITY.

pronounce her charming. Better informed than others,
however, I anticipate the ravages which ten years will
have effected on her, and sigh over evils which as yet
do not exist. This anticipated compassion is a painful
sentiment, and proves that a prescience of the future
would only make man more unhappy.

The second of the causes of obesity, is the fact that
farinacious and feculaferous matter is the basis of our
daily food. We have already said that all animals
that live on farinaceous substances become fat; man
obeys the common law.

The fecula is more prompt in its action when it is

mingled with sugar. Sugar and grease are alike in

containing large quantities of hydrogen, and are both
inflammable. This combination is the more powerful,
from the fact that it flatters the taste, and that we
never eat sweet things until the appetite is already
satisfied, so that we are forced to court the luxury of
eating by every refinement of temptation.

The fecula is not less fattening when in solution, as
in beer, and other drinks of the same kind. The na-
tions who indulge the most in them, are those who
have the most huge stomachs. Some Parisian families
who in 1817 drank beer habitually, because of the
dearness of wine, were rewarded by a degree of embon-
point, they would be glad to get rid of.

SEQUEL.

Another cause of obesity is found in the prolonga-
tion of sleep, and want of exercise.
OBESITY 257

The human body repairs itself much during sleep,
and at the same time loses nothing, because muscular
action is entirely suspended. The acquired superfluity
must then be evaporated by exercise.

Another consequence is, that persons who sleep
soundly, always refuse every thing that looks the least
like fatigue. The excess of assimilation is then borne
away by the torrent of circulation. It takes posses-
sion, by a process, the secret of which nature has
reserved to herself, of some hundredths of hydrogen,
and fat is formed to be deposited in the tubes of the
cellular tissue.

SEQUEL.

The last cause of obesity is excess of eating, and
drinking. '

There was justice in the assertion, that one of th,
privileges of the human race is to eat without hung
and drink without thirst. Animals cannot have i
for it arises from reflection on the pleasures of t
table, and a desire to prolong its duration.

This double passion has been found wherever man
exists. We know savages eat to the very acme of
brutality, whenever they have an opportunity.

Cosmopolites, as citizens of two hemispheres, we
fancy ourselves at the very apogeé of civilization, yet
we are sure we eat too much.

9

This is not the case with the few, who from avarice
or want of power, live alone. The first are delighted
22 *
258 OBESITY.

at the idea that they amass money, and others dis-
tressed that they do not. It is the case, however, with
those around us, for all, whether hosts or guests, offer
and accept with complaisance.

This cause, almost always present, acts differently,
according to the constitution of individuals; and in
those who have badly organized stomachs, produces in-
digestion, but not obesity.

ANECDOTE.

This one instance, which all Paris will remember.
M. Lang had one of the most splendid establish-
ments of the capital; his table especially, was excel-
-lent, but his digestion ad as his gourmandise was
“ preat. He did the honors with perfect taste, and ate
with a resolution worthy of a better fate.
All used to go on very well, till coffee was intro-
uced, but the stomach soon refused the labor to which
t had been subjected, and the unfortunate gastrono-
jer was forced to throw himself on the sofa and re-
in in agony until the next day, in expiation of the
brief pleasure he had enjoyed.

It is very strange that he never corrected this fault :
as long as he lived, he was subjected to this alternative,
yet the sufferings of the evening never had any influ-
ence on the next days’ meal.

Persons with active digestion, fare as was described
in the preceding article. All is digested, and what is
not needed for nutrition is fixed and turned into fat.

Others have a perpetual indigestion, and food is

   
  
  
OBESITY. 259

passed without having left any nourishment. Those
who do not understand the matter, are amazed that so
many good things do not produce a better effect.

It may be seen that I do not go very minutely into the
matter, for from our habits many secondary causes
arise, due to our habits, condition, inclinations, plea-
sures, etc.

I leave all this to the successor I pointed out in the
commencement of this work, and satisfy myself merely
with the prelibation, the right of the first comer to
every sacrifice.

Intemperance has long attracted the attention of
observers. Princes have made sumptuary laws, reli-
gion has moralized for gourmandise, but, alas, a mouth-
full less was never eaten, and the best of eating every
day becomes more flourishing.

I would perhaps be fortunate in the adoption of a
new course, and in the exposition of the physical causes
of obesity. Self-prescrvation would perhaps be more
powerful than morals, or persuasive than reason, have
more influence than laws, and I think the fair sex would

open their eyes to the light.

INCONVENIENCE OF OBESITY.
Obesity has a lamentable influence on the two
sexes, inasmuch as it is most injurious to strength and

beauty.
It lessens strength because it increases the weight

to be moved, while the motive power is unchanged.
260 OBESITY.

It injures respiration, and makes all labor requiring
prolonged muscular power impossible.

Obesity destroys beauty by annihilating the har-
mony of primitive proportions, for all the limbs do not
proportionately fatten.

It destroys beauty by filling up cavities nature’s
hand itself designed.

Nothing is so common as to see faces, once very

_y \interesting, made common-place by obesity.
The head of the last government did not escape
i: law. Towards the latter portion of his life, he
(Napoleon) became bloated, and his eyes lost a great
| portion of their expression.
| Obesity produces a distaste for dancing, walking,
riding, and an inaptitude for those amusements which
, require skill or agility.
| It also creates a disposition to certain diseases, such
\as apoplexy, dropsy, ulcers in the legs, and makes all
iseases difficult to cure.

EXAMPLES OF OBESITY.

I can remember no corpulent heroes except Marius
and John Sobieski.

Marius was short, and was about as broad as he was
long. That probably frightened the Cimber who was
about to kill him.

The obesity of the King of Poland had nearly been
fatal to him, for having stumbled on a squadron of
Turkish cavalry, from which he had to fly, he would
OBESITY. 261

certainly have been massacred, if his aids had not
sustained him, almost fainting from fatigue on his
horse, while others generously sacrificed themselves to
protect him.

If I am not mistaken, the Duc de Vendome, a
worthy son of Henry IV., was also very corpulent.
He died at an inn, deserted by all, and preserved con-
sciousness just long enough to see a servant snatch
away a pillow on which his head was resting.

There are many instances of remarkable obesity.
I will only speak, however, of my own observations.

M. Rameau, a fellow student of mine and maitre of
Chaleur, was about five feet two inches high, but
weighed five hundred pounds.

The Duc de Luynes, beside whom I often sat,
became enormous. Fat had effaced his handsome fea-
tures, and he slept away the best portion of his life.

The most remarkable case, though, I saw in New
York, and many persons now in Paris will remember
to have seen at the door of a café in Broadway, a
person seated in an immense arm-chair, with legs
stout enough to have sustained a church.*

Edward was at least five feet ten inches, and was
about eight feet (French) in circumference. His fin-
gers were like those of the Roman Emperor, who used

* Many persons in New York remember the person referred
to. The translator has heard, that as late as 1815, he was
frequently to be seen at the door of a house near where the
Atheneum Hotel was. Brillat Savarin is said scarcely to
exaggerate.
262 OBESITY.

‘to wear his wife’s bracelets as rings. His arms and
legs were nearly as thick as the waist of a man of
medium size,‘and his feet were elephantine, covered
by fat pendant from his legs. The fat on his cheek
had weighed down his lower eye-lid, and three hanging
chins made his face horrible to behold.

He passed his life near a window, which looked out
on the street and drank from time to time a glass of
ale from a huge pitcher he kept by his side.

His strange appearance used to attract the attention
of passers, whom he used always to put to flight by
saying in a sepulchral tone ‘‘ What are you staring at
like wild cats? Go about your business, you black-
guards,” etc.

Having spoken to him one day, he told me that he
was not at all annoyed and that if death did not inter-
rupt him, he would be glad to live till the day of
judgment.

From the preceding, it appears that if obesity be
not a disease, it is at least a very troublesome predis-
position, into which we fall from our own fault.

The result is, that we should all seck to preserve
ourselves from it before we are attacked, and to cure
ourselves when it befalls us. For the sake of the
unfortunate we will examine what resources science
presents us.
MEDITATION XXII.

PRESERVATIVE TREATMENT AND CURE OF OBESITY.*

I wit begin by a fact which proves that courage is
needed not only to prevent but to cure obesity.

M. Louis Greffulhe, whom his majesty afterwards
honored with the title of count, came one morning to
see me, saying that he had understood that I had paid
great attention to obesity, and asked me for advice.

“Monsieur,” said I, ‘not being a doctor with a
diploma, I might refuse you, but I will not, provided
you give me your word of honor that for one month
you will rigorously obey my directions.”

M. Greffulhe made the promise I required and gave
me his hand. On the next day, I gave him my di-
rections, the first article of which demanded that he

* About twenty years ago I began a treatise, ex professo, on
chesity. My readers must especially regret the preface which
was of dramatic form. I averred to a physician that a fever
is less dangerous than a law suit; for the latter, after having
made a man run, fatigue, and worry himself, strips him of
pleasure, money, andlife. This is a statement which might be
propagated as well as any other.

( 263 )
264 PRESERVATIVE TREATMENT

should at once get himself weighed, so that the result
might be made mathematically.

After a month he came to see me again, and spoke

me nearly thus :

“ Monsieur,” said he, “1 followed your prescription

sif my life depended on it, and during the month I am
shtisfied that I have lost three pounds and more ; but
ave for that purpose to violate all my tastes and
abits 0 completely, that while I thank you for your
dvice I must decline to follow it, and await quietly
he fate God ordains for me.”

I heard this resolution with pain. M. Greffulhe
became every day fatter and subject to all the incon-
veniences of extreme obesity, and died of suffocation
when he was about forty.

GENERALITIES.

The cure of obesity should begin with three precepts
of absolute theory, discretion in eating, moderation
n sleep, and exercise on foot or horseback.

 

_ These are the first resources presented to us by
science. I, however, have little faith in them, for I
know men and things enough to be aware that any
prescription, not literally followed, has but a light
effect.

Now, imprimus, it needs much courage to be able
to leave the table hungry. As long as the want of
food is felt, one mouthful makes the succeeding one
more palatable, and in general as long as we are
AND CURE OF OBESITY. 265

hungry, we eat in spite of doctors, though in that
respect we follow their example.

In the second place to ask obese persons to rise
early is to stab them to the heart. They will tell you
that their health will not suffer them, that when they
rise early they are good for nothing all day. Women
will plead exhaustion, will consent to sit up late, and
wish to fatten on the morning’s nap. They lose thus
this resource.

In the third place, riding as an exercise is expen-
sive, and does not suit every rank and fortune.

Propose this to a female patient and she will con-
sent with joy, provided she have a gentle but active
horse, a riding dress in the height of the fashion, and
in the third place a squire who is young, good-tem-
pered and handsome. It is difficult to fill these three
requisites, and riding is thus given up.

Exercise on foot is liable to many other objections.
It is fatiguing, produces perspiration and pleurisy.
Dust soils the shoes and stockings, and it is given up.
If, too, the patient have the least headache, if a single
shot, though no larger than the head of a pin, pierce
the skin it is all charged’ to the exercise. .

The consequence is that all who wish to diminish
embonpoint should eat moderately, sleep little, and
take as much exercise as possible, seeking to accom-
plish the purpose in another manner. This method,
based on the soundest principles of physics and chem-
istry, consists in a diet suited to the effects sought for.

23
266 PRESERVATIVE TREATMENT

Of all medical powers, diet is the most important,
for it is constant by night and day, whether waking
or sleeping. Its effect is renewed at every meal,
and gradually exerts its influence on every portion of
the individual. The antiobesic regimen is therefore
indicated by the most common causes of the diseases,
and by the fact that it has been shown that farina or
fecula form fat in both men and animals. In the
latter, the case is evident every day, and from it we
may deduce the conclusion that obtaining from fari-
naceous food will be beneficial.

But my readers of both sexes will exclaim, “Oh
my God, how cruel the professor is. He has at once
prescribed all we like, the white rolls of Limet, the
biscuit of Achard, the cakes of . . . and all the
good things made with sugar, eggs, and farina. He
will spare neither potatoes nor macaroni. Who
would have expected it from a man fond of everything
good ?”

“What is that?” said I, putting on my stern look
which I call up but once a year. ‘Well, eat and

/ grow fat, become ugly, asthmatic, and die of melted
fat. Iwill make a note of your case and you shall

\ figure in my second edition. Ah! I see, one phrase

| has overcome you, and you beg me to suspend the
thunderbolt. Be easy, I will prescribe your diet and
prove how much pleasure is in the grasp of one who
lives to eat.”

“You like bread? well, eat barley-bread. The
AND CURE OF OBESITY. 267

admirable Cadet de Vaux long ago extolled its vir-
tues. Itis not so nourishing and not so agreeable.
The precept will then be more easily complied with.
To be sure one should resist temptation. Remember
this, which is a principle of sound morality.

“You like soup? Hat julienne then, with green
vegetables, with cabbage and roots. I prohibit soup
au pain, patés and purées.

“Hat what you please at the first course except
rice aux volatiles and the crust of patés. Eat well,
but circumspectly.

“The second course will call for all your philoso-
phy. Avoid everything farinacious, under whatever
form it appears. You have yet the roasts, salads,
and herbacious vegetables.

“Now for the dessert. This is a new danger, but
if you have acted prudently so far, you may survive it.
Avcid the head of the table, where things that are
dangerous to you are most apt to appear. Do not
look at either biscuits or macaronies; you have fruits
of all kinds, confitures and much else that you may
safely indulge in, according to my principles.

“After dinner I prescribe coffee, permit you
liqueurs, and advise you to take tea and punch.

«* At breakfast barly-bread is a necessity, and take
chocolate rather than coffee. I, however, permit strong
café au lait. One cannot breakfast too soon. When
we breakfast late, dinner time comes before your
digestion is complete. You eat though, and eating
268 PRESERVATIVE TREATMENT

without appetite is often a great cause of obesity,
when we do so too often.”

SEQUEL OF THE REGIMEN.

So far I have, like a tender father, marked out a
regimen which will prevent obesity. Let us add a
few remarks about its cure.

Drink every summer thirty bottles of Seltzer water,
a large glass in the morning, two before breakfast
and another at bed-time. Drink light white acid
wines like those of Anjon. Avoid beer as you would
the plague. Eat radishes, artichokes, asparagus,
etc. Eat lamb and chicken in preference to other
animal food; eat only the crust of bread, and employ
a doctor who follows my principles, and as soon as
you begin you will find yourself fresher, prettier, and
better in every respect.

Having thus placed you ashore, I must point out
the shoals, lest in excess or zeal, you overleap the
mark.

The shoal I wish to point out is the habitual use
made by some stupid people of acids, the bad effects
of which experience has demonstrated.

DANGERS OF ACIDS.

There is a current opinion among women, which
every year causes the death of many young women,
that acids, especially vinegar, are preventatives of obe-
sity.
AND CURE OF OBESITY. 269

Beyond all doubts, acids have the effect of destroy-
ing obesity, but they also destroy health and fresh-
ness. Lemonade is of all acids the most harmless,
but few stomachs can resist it long.

The truth I wish to announce cannot be too public,
and almost all of my readers can bring forward some
fact to sustain it.

I knew in 1776, at Dijon, a young lady of great
beauty, to whom I was attached by bonds of friend-
ship, great almost as those of love. One day when
she had for some time gradually grown pale and thin
(previously she had a delicious embonpoint) she told
me in confidence that as her young friends had ridi-
culed her for being too fat, she had, to counteract the
tendency, been in the habit every day of drinking a
large glass of vinaigre.

I shuddered at the confession, and made every
attempt to avoid the danger. I informed her mother
of the state of things the next day, and as she adored
her daughter, she was as much alarmed as I was. The
doctors were sent for, but in vain, for before the cause
of her malady was suspected, it was incurable and
hopeless.

Thus, in consequence of having followed imprudent
advice, our amiable Louise was led to the terrible con-
dition of marasmus, and sank when scarcely eighteen
years old, to sleep forever.

She died casting longing looks towards a future,

which to her would have no existence, and the idea
28 *
270 PRESERVATIVE TREATMENT

that she had involuntarily attempted her own life,
made her existence more prompt and painful.

I have never seen any one else die; she breathed
her last in my arms, as I lifted her up to enable
her to see the day. Night days after her death, her
broken hearted mother wished me to visit with her the
remains of her daughter, and we saw an extatic ap-
pearance which had not hitherto been visible. I was
amazed, but extracted some consolation from the fact.
This however is not strange, for Lavater tells of many
such in his history of physiogomy.

ANTIOBESIC BELT.

All antiobesic tendencies should be accompanied
by a precaution I had forgotten. It consists in wear-
ing night and day, a girdle to repress the stomach, by
moderately clasping it.

To cause the necessity of it to be perceived, we
must remember that the vertebral column, forming one
of the walls in the cavity containing the intestines, is
firm and inflexible. Whence it follows, that the excess
of weight which intestines acquire as soon as obesity
causes them to deviate from the vertical line, rests on
the envelopes which compose the skin of the stomach.
The latter being susceptible of almost infinite disten-
tion, would be unable to replace themselves, when
this effort diminishes, if they did not have a mechanical
art, which, resting on the dorsal column, becomes an
antagonist, and restores equilibrium. This belt has
AND CURE OF OBESITY. 271

therefore the effect of preventing the intestines from
yielding to their actual weight, and gives a power to con-
tract when pressure is diminished. It should never
be laid aside, or the benefit it exerts in the day will
be destroyed in the night. It is not, however, in the
least troublesome, and one soon becomes used to it.

The belt also shows when w2 have eaten enough;
and it should be made with great care, and so con-
trived as to diminish as the embonpoint decreases.

One is not forced to wear it all life long, and it may
be laid aside when the inconvenience is sufficiently
reduced. A suitable diet however, should be main-
tained. Ihave not worn it for six years.

QUINQUINA.

One substance I think decidedly antiobesic. Many
observations have induced me to think so, yet I leave
the matter in doubt, and submit it to physicians.

This is quinquina.

Ten or twelve persons that I know, have had long
intermittent fevers; some were cured by old women’s
remedies, powders, etc. Others by the continued use
of quinquina, which is always effective.

All those persons of the same category, gradually
regained their obesity. Those of the second, lost
their embonpoint, a circumstance which leaves me to
think the quinquina which produced the last result had
the effect I speak of.

Rational theory is not opposed to this deduction,
212; PRESERVATIVE TREATMENT, ETC.

for quinquina, exciting all the vital powers, may give
the circulation an impetus which troubles all, and dissi-
pates, the gas destined to become fat. It is also shown
that quinquina contains a portion of tannin which is
powerful enough to close the cells which contain grease.
It is possible that these two effects sustain each other.

These two ideas, the truth of which any one may
understand, induce me to recommend quinquina to all
those who wish to get rid of troublesome embonpoint.
Thus dummodo annuertt in omni medicationis genere
doctissimi Facultatis professores. I think that after the
first month of any regimen, the person who wishes to
get rid of fat, should take every day before breakfast,
a glass of white wine, in which was placed a spoonful
of coffee and red quinquina. Such are the means I
suggest to overcome a very troublesome affection. I
have accommodated them to human weakness and to
our manners.

In this respect the experimental truth is relied on,
which teaches that in proportion as a regime is vigor-
ous, it is dangerous, for he who does not follow it lit-
erally, does not follow it all.

Great efforts are rare, and if one wishes to be fol-

lowed, men must be offered things vacile, if not agree-
able.
MEDITATION XXIII.

THINNESS.

DEFINITION.

THINNESS is the state of that individual, the muscular
frame of whom is not filled up by strength, and who
exhibits all angles of the long scaffolding.

VARIETIES.

There are two kinds of thinness; the first is the
result of the primitive disposition of the body, and is
accompanied by health, and a full use of the organic
functions of the body. The second is caused by the
fact that some of the organs are more defective than
others, and give the individual an unhappy and mise-
rable appearance. I once knew a young woman of
moderate stature who only weighed sixty-five pounds.

EFFECTS OF THINNESS.

Thinness isa matter of no great trouble to men.

They have no less strength, and are far more active.
(273)
274 THINNESS.

The father of the young woman I spoke of, though
very thin, could seize a chair by his teeth and throw
it over his head.

It is, however, a terrible misfortune to women, to
whom beauty is more important than life, and the
beauty of whom consists in the roundness and grace-
ful contour of their forms. The most careful toilette,
the most, sublime needle-work, cannot hide certain
deficiencies. It has been said that whenever a pin is
taken from a thin woman, beautiful as she may be,
she loses some charm.

The thin have, therefore, no remedy, except from
the interference of the faculty. The regimen must be so
long, that the cure must be slow.

Women, however, who are thin, and who have a
good stomach, are found to be as susceptible of fat as
chickens. A little time, only, is necessary, for the
stomach of chickens is comparatively smaller, and
they cannot be submitted to as regular a diet as chick-
ens are.

This is the most gentle comparison which suggested
itself to me. I needed one, and ladies will excuse
me for the reason for which I wrote this chapter.

NATURAL PREDESTINATION.

Nature varies its works, and has remedies for thin-
ness, as it has for obesity.

Persons intended to be thin are long drawn out.
They have long hands and feet, legs thin, and the os
THINNESS. 275

coxigis retroceding. Their sides are strongly marked,
their noses prominent, large mouths, sharp chins and
brown hair.

This is the general type, the individual elements
may sometimes vary; this however happens rarely.

Thin people sometimetimes eat a great deal. All
Tever even talked with, confess that they digest badly.
That is the reason they remain thin.

They are of every class and temperament. Some
have nothing salient either in feature or in form.
Their eyes are inexpressive, their lips pale, and every
feature denotes a want of energy, weakness, and
something like suffering. One might almost say they
seemed to be incomplete, and that the torch of their
lives had not been well lighted.

FATTENING REGIMEN.

All thin women wish to be fat; this is a wish we
have heard expressed a thousand times. To render,
then, this last homage to the powerful sex, we seek to
replace by folds of silk and cotton, exposed in fash-
ion shops, to the great scandal of the severe, who
turn aside, and look away from them, as they would
from chimeras, more carefully than if the reality pre-
sented themselves to their eyes.

The whole secret of embonpoint consists in a suita-
ble diet. One need only eat and select suitable food.

With this regimen, our disposition to sleep is almost
unimportant. If you do not take exercise, you will
f

276 THINNESS.

be exposed to fatness. If you do, you will yet grow
fat.

If you sleep much, you will grow fat, if you sleep
little, your digestion will increase, and you will eat
more.

We have then only to speak of the manner they
who wish to grow fat should live. This will not be
difficult, according to the many directions we have
laid down.

To resolve this problem, we must offer to the stom-
ach food which occupies, but does not fatigue it, and
displays to the assimilant power, things they can turn
into fat.

Let us seek to trace out the daily diet of a sylph,
or a sylph disposed to materialize itself.

General rule. Much fresh bread will be eaten
during the day, and particular care will be taken
not to throw away the crumbs.

Before eight in the morning, soup au pain or aux
patés will be taken, and afterwards a cup of good
chocolate.

At eleven o’clock, breakfast on fresh broiled eggs,
petit patés edtelettes, and what you please ; have eggs,
coffee will do no harm.

Dinner hour should be so arranged that one should
have thoroughly digested before the time comes to sit

/jlown at the table. The eating of one meal before

“ Paother is digested, is an abuse.
re

After dinner there should be some exercise; men
/
is
THINNESS. 277

as much as they can; women should go into the Tuil-
leries, or as they say in America, go shopping. We
are satisfied that the little gossip and conversation
they maintain is very healthful.

At times, all should take as much soup, potage,
fish, etc., and also meat cooked with rice and maca-
ronies, pastry, creams, etc.

At dessert such persons should eat Savoy biscuits,
and other things made up of eggs, fecula, and
sugar.

This regimen, though apparently circumscribed, is
yet susceptible of great variety: it admits the whole
animal kingdom, and great care is necessarily taken
in the seasoning and preparation of the food presented.
The object of this is to prevent disgust, which prevents
any amelioration.

Beer should be preferred—if not beer, wines from
Bourdeaux or from the south of France.

One should avoid all acids, except salads. As
much sugar as possible should be put on fruits and all
should avoid cold baths. One should seek as long as’
possible, to breathe the pure country air, eat many’
grapes when they are in season, and never go to the/
ball for the mere pleasure of dancing.

Ordinarily one should go to bed about eleven, P. M.,
and never, under any circumstances, sit up more than
an hour later.

Following this regime resolutely, all the distractions
of nature will soon be repaired. Health and beauty

24
278 THINNESS.

will both be advanced, and accents of gratitude will
ring in the ears of the professor.

Sheep are fattened, as are oxen, lobsters and oysters.
Hence, I deduce the general maxim; viz: ‘He that
eats may be made fat, provided that the food be
chosen correctly, and according to the physiology of
the animal to be fattened.”
MEDITATION XXIV.

FASTING.

DEFINITION.

Fastine is a moral abstinence from food, from some,
religious or moral influence.

Though contrary to our tastes and habits, it is yet,
of the greatest antiquity.

ORIGIN.

Authors explain the matter thus:

In individual troubles, when a father, mother,
or beloved child have died, all the household is in*
mourning. The body is washed, perfumed, enbalmed, |
and buried as it should be—none then think of eating,
but all fast. .

In public calamites, when a general drought appears,
and cruel wars, or contagious maladies come, we hum-
ble ourselves before the power that sent them, and
mortify ourselves by abstinence. Misfortune ceases.
We become satisfied that the reason was that we fasted,
and we continue to have reference to such conjectures.

Thus it is, men afflicted with public calamities or
(279)
280 FASTING.

private ones, always yield to sadness, fail to take food,
jand in the end, make a voluntary act, a religious one.
\ They fancied they should macerate their body when
their soul was oppressed, that they could excite the
pity of the gods. ‘This idea seized on all nations and
filled them with the idea of mourning, prayers, sacri-
fice, abstinence, mortification, etc.

Christ came and sanctified fasting. All christian
sects since then have adopted fasting more or less, as
an obligation.

HOW PEOPLE USED TO FAST.

The practice of fasting, I am sorry to say, has be-
very rare; and whether for the education of the
wicked, or for their conversion, I am glad to tell how
we fast now in the XVIII. century.

Ordinarily we breakfast before nine o’clock, on
bread, cheese, fruit and cold meats.

Between one and two P. M., we take soup or pot au
few according to our positions.

About four, there is a little lunch kept up for the
benefit of those people who belong to other ages, and
for children.

About eight there was a regular supper, with en-
trées roti entremets dessert: all shared in it, and
then went to bed.

In Paris there are always more magnificent suppers,
which begin just after the play. The persons who
usually attend them are pretty women, admirable
actresses, financiers, and men about town.
FASTING. 281

There the events of the day were talked of, the last
new song was sung, and politics, literature, etc., were
discussed. All persons devoted themselves especially
to making love.

Let us see what was done on fast days:

No body breakfasted, and therefore all were more
hungry than usual.

All dined as well as possible, but fish and vegeta-
bles are soon gone through with. At five o’clock all |
were furiously hungry, looked at their watches and |
became enraged, though they were securing fivsie!
soul’s salvation.

At eight o’clock they had not a good supper, but
a collation, a word derived from elozster, because
at the end of the day the monks used to assemble to’
comment on the works of the fathers, after which they
were allowed a glass of wine.

Neither butter, eggs, nor any thing animal was
served at these collations. They had to be satisfied
with salads, confitures, and meats, a very unsatisfactory
food to such appetites at that time. They went to bed,
however, and lived in hope as long as the fast lasted.

Those who ate these little suppers, I am assured,
never fasted.

The chef-d’euvre of a kitchen of those days, I am
assured, was a strictly apostolic collation, which,
however, was very like a good supper.

Science soon resolved this problem by the recogni-
tion of fish, soups, and pastry made with oil.

24 *
282 FASTING.

The observing of fasting, gave rise to an unknown
asure, that of the Easter celebration.

A close observation shows that the elements of our
enjoyment are, difficult privation, desire and gratifica-
‘tion. All of these are found in the breaking of ab-
stinence. I have seen two of my grand uncles, very
excellent men, too, almost faint with pleasure, when,
‘on the day after Haster, they saw a ham, or a paté
‘brought on the table. A degenerate race like the
; present, experiences no such sensation.

 
  
  
 

 

ORIGIN OF THE REMOVAL OF RESTRICTION IN FASTING.

I witnessed the rise of this. It advanced by al-
most insensible degrees.

Young persons of a certain.age, were not forced to
fast, nor were pregnant women, or those who thought
/ themselves so. When in that condition, a soup, a
( very great temptation to those who were well, was
served to them.

Then people began to find out that fasting disagreed
with them, and kept them awake. All the little acci-
dents man is subject to, were then attributed to it, so
that people did not fast, because they thought them-
' gelves sick, or that they would beso. Collations thus

Se

 

gradually became rarer.
This was not all; some winters were so severe that

\ people began to fear a scarcity of vegetables, and the
ecclesiastical power officially relaxed its rigor.
The duty, however, was recognised and permission
FASTING. 283

was always asked. The priests were refused it, but
enjoined the necessity of extra alms giving.

The Revolution came, which occupied the minds of
all, that none thought of priests, who were looked on
as enemies to the state.

This cause does not exist, but a new one has inter-

yened. The hour of our meals is totally changed; |

we do not eat so often, and a totally different house-
hold arrangement would be required for fasting. This
is so true, that I think I may safely say, though I.
visit none but the best regulated houses, that, except|
at home, I have not seen a lenten table, or a cllation
ten times in twenty-five years.

We will not finish this chapter without observing
the new direction popular taste has taken.

Thousands of men, who, forty years ago would have
passed their evenings in cabarets, now pass them at
the theatres.

Economy, certainly does not gain by this, but moral-

ity does. Manners are improved at the play, and at \

cafés one sees the journals. One certainly escapes
the quarrels, diseases, and degradation, which infal-
libly result from the habit of frequenting cabarets.

é
MEDITATION XXV.

EXHAUSTION.

By exhaustion, a state of weakness, languor or de-
pression, caused by previous circumstances is under-
stood, rendering the exercise of the vital functions more
difficult. There are various kinds of exhaustion,
caused by mental labor, bodily toil and the abuse of
certain faculties.

( One great remedy is to lay aside the acts which
/\) have produced this state, which, if not a disease,
approximates closely to one.

TREATMENT.

After these indispensable preliminaries, gastronomy
1 is ready with its resources.
[ When a man is overcome by too long fatigue, it
‘offers him a good soup, generous wine, flesh and sleep.
To a savant led into debility by a too great exercise
of his mental faculties, it prescribes fresh air, a bath,
fowl and vegetables.
The following observation will explain how I effected

a cure of another kind of exhaustion.
( 284.)
ON EXHAUSTION. 285

[The translator thinks it best not to translate this
anecdote, but merely to append the original. ]

CURE BY THE PROFESSOR.

Jallai un jour faire visite & un de mes meilleurs
amis (M. Rubat) ; on me dit qu'il était malade, et ef-
Jectivement je le trouvai en robe de chambre auprés de
son feu, et en attitude d'affaissement.

Sa physionomie meffraya: il avait le visage pale,
les yeux brillants et sa levre tombait de manitre a
laisser voir les dents de la machoire inférieure, ce qui
avait quelque chose de hideux.

Je m’enquis avec interét de la cause de ce change-
ment subit ; il hésita, je le pressai, et apres quelque re-
sistance: “* Mon ami, dit-il en rougissant, tu sais que
ma femme est jalouse, et que cette mante m’a fait
passer bien des mauvais moments. Depuis quelques
jours, zl lui en a pris une crise effroyable, et c'est en
voulant lui prouver qu’elle n’a rien perdu de mon
affection et quwil ne se fait & son préjudice aucune
dérivation du tribut conjugal, que je me suis mis en
cet état.—Tu as done oublié, lui disse, et que tu as
quarante-cing ans, et que la jalousie est un mal sans
remede? Ne sais-tu pas furens quid femina possit ?”
Je tins encore quelques autres propos peu galants, car
j étais en colere.

“ Voyons, au surplus, continuat-je: ton pouls est
petit, dur, concentré ; que vas-tu faire ?—Le docteur,
me dit-il, sort dict; ila pensé que javais une fievre
286 ON EXHAUSTION.

nerveuse, et a ordonné une saignée pour laquelle il
doit incessamment m’envoyer le chirurgien.—Le chi-
rurgien! mécriatje, garde-Cen bien, ou tu es mort ;
chasse-le comme un meurtrier, et dis lut que je me
suis emparé de toi, corps et ame. Au surplus, ton
médecin connatt-tl la cause occasionnelle de ton mal ?
—Hélas! non, une mauvaise honte ma empéché de
lui faire une confession entiere.—-Eh bien, tl faut le
prier de passer cher tot. Je vais te faire une potion ap-
propriée & ton état; en attendant prends cect.” Je
lui présentat un verre d'eau saturée de sucre, qwil
avala avec la confiance d’ Alexandre et la fot du char-
bounter.

Alors je le quittat et courus chez mot pour y mix-
tionner, fonctionner et élaborer un magister répara-
teur qu'on trouvera dans les Vartétés, avec les divers
modes que J adoptat pour me hater ; car, en pareil cas,
quelques heures de retard peuvent donner lieu a des
accidents irréparables.

Je revins bientét armé de ma potion, et déja je trou-
vat du mieux ; la couleur reparaissait aux joues, U wil
était détendu ; mais la lure pendait toujours avec une
effrayante difformité.

Le médecin ne tarda pas & reparaitre ; je Vinstrut-
sis de ce que javais fait et le malade fit ses aveux.
Son front doctoral prit d’abord un aspect sévére ; mats
bientét nous regardant avee un air ov il y avait un peu
@ironie: ‘“ Vous ne devez pas étre étonné, dit-il a
Mon ami, que je n’aie pas deviné une maladie qui ne
ON EXHAUSTION. 287

convient ni a votre age ni & votre état, et il ya de
votre part trop de modestie d en cacher la cause, qui
ne pouvart que vous faire honneur. Jat encore a
vous gronder de ce que vous m’avez exposé a une
erreur qui aurait pu vous étre funest?. Au surplus,
mon confrére, ajouta-til en me faisant un salut que je
lut rendis avec usure, vous a indiqué la bonne route ;
prenez son potage, quel que soit le nom qwil y donne,
et st la fievre vous quitte, comme je le crois, déjeunez
demain avec wne tasse de chocolat dans laquelle vous
ferez délayer deux jaunes d'eufs frais.”

A ces mots il prit sa canne, son chapeau et nous
quitta, nous laissant fort tentés de nous égayer a ses
dépens.

Bientot je fis prendre & mon malade une forte tasse
de mon élizir de vie; tlle but avec avidité, et voulatt
redoubler ; mats jexigeat un ajournement de deux
heures, et lui servis une seconde dose avant de me re-
tirer.

Le lendemain il était sans fievre et presque bien
portant ; i déjeuna suivant Vordonnance, continua
la potion, ét put vaquer dés le surlendemain a ses oc-
eupations ordinatres; mais la léevre rebelle ne se releva
qu apres le troistéme jour.

Peu de temps apres, Vaffaire transpira, et toutes les
dames en chuchotatent entre elles.

Quelques-unes admiraient mon ami, presque toutes
le plaignaient, et le professeur gastronome fut glorifié.
MEDITATION XXVI.

DEATH.

Omnia mors poscit; lex est, non poena, perire.

~ Gop has subjected man to six great necessities : birth,
action, eating, sleep, reproduction and death.

Death is the absolute interruption of the sensual
relations, and the absolute annihilation of the vital
. powers, which abandons the body to to the laws of
; decomposition.

,, Lhese necessities are all accompanied and softened

'y a sensation of pleasure, and even death, when

natural, is not without charms. We mean when a man

has passed through the different phases of growth,
virility, old age, and decrepitude.

Had I not determined to make this chapter very
short, I would invoke the assistance of the physicians,
who have observed every shade of the transition of
a living to aninert body. I would quote philosophers,
kings, men of letters, men, who while on the verge of
eternity, had pleasant thoughts they decked in the

graces ; I would recall the dying answer of Fontinelle,
( 288 )

(
DEATH. 989

who being asked what he felt, said, “nothing but the
pain of life ;’’ I prefer, however, merely to express my
opinion, founded on analogy as sustained by many in-
stances, of which the following is the last :

I had a great aunt, aged eighty-three when she
died. Though she had long been confined to her bed,
she preserved all her faculties, and the approach of
death was perceived by the feebleness of her voice
and the failing of her appetite.

She had always exhibited great devotion to me, and
I sat by her bed-side anxious to attend on her. This,
however, did not prevent my observing her with most
philosophic attention.

“Are you there, nephew?’ said she in an almost
inaudible voice. ‘‘ Yes, aunt! I think you would be
better if you would take a little old wine.” ‘Give it
to me, liquids always run down.” I hastened to li
her up and gave her half a glass of my best and oldest
wine. She revived for a moment and said, “‘I thank
you. If you live as long as I have lived, you will
find that death like sleep is a necessity.”’

These were her last words, and in half an hour she
had sank to sleep forever.

Richerand has described with so much truth the
gradations of the human body, and the last moments
of the individual that my readers will be obliged to me
for this passage.

“‘ Thus the intellectual faculties are decomposed and

pass away. Reason the attribute of which man pre-
25
290 DEATH.

tends to be the exclusive possessor, first deserts him.
He then loses the power of combining his judgment,
and soon after that of comparing, assembling, com-
bining, and joining together many ideas. They say
then that the invalid loses his mind, that he is deli-
rious. All this usually rests on ideas familiar to the
individual. The dominant passion is easily recognized.
The miser talks most wildly about his treasures, and
another person is besieged by religious terrors,

After reasoning and judgment, the faculty of asso-
ciation becomes lost. This takes place in the cases
known as defaillances, to which I have myself been
liable. Iwas once talking with a friend and met with
‘an insurmountable difficulty in combining two ideas
from which I wished to make up an opinion. The syn-
copy was not, however, complete, for memory and
sensation remained. I heard the persons around me
' say distinctly he is fainting, and sought to arouse me
from this condition, which was not without pleasure.

“Memory then becomes extinct. The patient, who
in his delirium, recognized his friends, now fails even
to know those with whom he had been on terms of the
greates intimacy. He then loses sensation, but the
senses go out in a successive and determinate order.
Taste and smell give no evidence of their exiftence,
the eyes become covered with a mistful veil and i ear
ceases to execute its functions. For that reason, the
ancients to be sure of the reality of death, used to utter
loud cries in the ears of thedying. He neither tastes,
DEATH. 291

sees, nor hears. He yet retains the sense of touch,
moves in his bed, changes the position of the arms
and body every moment, and has motions analogous
to those of the fcetus in the womb. Death affects him
with no terror, for he has no ideas, and he ends as he
begun life, unconsciously.” (Richerand’s Hlements o
Physiologg, vol. ii.p. 600.)
MEDITATION XXVII.

PHILOSOPHICAL HISTORY OF THE KITCHEN.

Cookery is the most ancient of arts, for Adam must
have been born hungry, and the cries of the infant
are only soothed by the mother’s breast.

Of all the arts it is the one which has rendered the
greatest service in civil life. The necessities of the
kitchen taught us the use of fire, by which man has
subdued nature.

Looking carefully at things, three kinds of ewzsine
may be discovered.

The first has preserved its primitive name.

The second analyzes and looks after elements: it
is called chemistry.

The third, is the cookery of separation and is
called pharmacy.

Though different objects, they are all united by the
fact that they use fire, furnaces, etc., at the same time.

Thus a morsel of beef, which the cook converts into
potage or bouzlld, the chemist uses to ascertain into

how many substances it may be resolved.
(292 )
PHILOSOPHICAL HISTORY OF THE KITCHEN. 993

ORDER OF ALIMENTATION.

Man is an omnivorous animal: he has incisors to
divide fruits, molar teeth to crush grain, and canine
teeth for flesh. Let it be remarked however, that as
man approaches the savage state, the canine teeth are
more easily distinguishable.

The probability was, that the human race for a ey
time, lived on fruit, for it is the most ancient food o
the human race, and his means of attack until he had
acquired the use of arms are very limited. The instine
of perfection attached to his nature, however, soon
became developed, and the sentiment attached to his
instinct was soon exhibited, and he made weapons for
himself. To this he was impelled by a cavniverous ¥
instinct, and he began to make prey of the animals that
surrounded him.

This instinct of destruction yet exists: children
always kill the animals that surround them, and i
they were hungry would devour them.

It is not strange that man seeks to feed on flesh :
Hehas too small a stomach, and fruit has not nourish-_
ment enough to renovate him. He could subsist on

vegetables, but their preparation requires an art, only
reached after the lapse of many centuries.

Man’s first weapons were the branches of trees, and
subsequently bows and arrows.

It is worthy of remark, that wherever we find man,
in all climates and latitudes, he has been found with
bows and arrows. None can see how this idea pre-

“25%

Ay
294 PHILOSOPHICAL HISTORY OF THE KITCHEN.

sented itself to individuals so differently placed: it
must be hidden by the veil of centuries.

Raw flesh has but one inconvenience. Its viscous-
ness attaches itself to the teeth. It is not, however,
disagreeable. When seasoned with salt it is easily

tdigested, and must be digestible.

A Croat captain, whom I invited to dinner in 1815,
wags amazed at my preparations. He said to me,
“When in campaign, and we become hungry, we
knock over the first animal we find, cut off a steak,
powder it with salt, which we always have in the
sabretasche, put it under the saddle, gallop over it for
half a mile, and then dine like princes.”

When the huntsmen of Dauphiny go out in Septem-
ber to shoot, they take both pepper and salt with
them. If they kill a very fat bird they pluck, sea-
son it, carry it some time in their caps and eat it.
They say it is the best way to serve it up.

If our ancestors ate raw food we have not entirely
gotten rid of the habit. The most delicate palates
like Arles’ sausages, etc., which have never been
cooked, but which are not, on that account, the less

appetising.

DISCOVERY OF FIRE.

. Subsequently to the Croat mode, fire was discoy-
‘eyed. This was an accident, for fire is not spontane-
sous. Many savage nations have been found utterly

  

ignorant of it.
PHILOSOPHICAL HISTORY OF THE KITCHEN. 295

BAKING.

Fire having been discovered it was made use of to
perfect food; at first it was made use of to dry it,
and then to cook it.

Meat thus treated was found better than when
raw. It had more firmness, was eaten with less diffi-
culty, and the osmazome as it was condensed by car-
bonization gave it a pleasing perfume.

They began, however, to find out that flesh cooked
on the coals became somewhat befouled, for certain
portions of coal will adhere to it. This was remedied
by passing spits through it, and placing it above burn-
ing coals at a suitable height.

Thus grillades were invented, and they have a fla-
vor as rich as it is simple. All grilled meat is highly
flavored, for it must be partially distilled.

Things in Homer’s time had not advanced much
further, and all will be pleased here to read the
account of Achilles’ reception of the three leading
Greeks, one of whom was royal.

I dedicate this story to the ladies, for Achilles was
the handsomest of all the Greeks, and his pride did
not prevent his weeping when Briséis was taken from

him, viz:

MetSova 6% xpnriipa, Mevocrion vié, xaStora>
Twporepov dé xépate, dénas 0 Evrovov éxdaTw.
of yap Gidraror Gvdpes Ens tréabs pehdSpyp.

"Qs ddro* Tlarpoxdos ot gidw énencided’ Eraipy.
296 PHILOSOPHICAL HISTORY OF THE KITCHEN.

abrip bye xpsioev péya xaBBarev év mvpds atyny

év db) pa virov ESnk’ dios Kai nieves atyes,

dv 68 ovds orddowo fdxiv reSaducay adopts

rG 0 Exev Atropédwv, répvev & dpa dios ’Axtddets*
kai ra péy €d piorvdde, Kat dup’ dBedotory Erecpev"
mvp dé Mevoirtddns datev péya, is6Seos puis.

abrip inet kara mip éxdn, kal prot énapadvSn,
av3paxiiv sropécas, dBerods spirepe ravvocev*
maoce 0 adds Yeiovo, Kparevrdwy énacipas.

abrip énei p’ darnoe, kai civ édcotow Exevev,
Tldrpoxdog piv ctrov tray énévecue rparéSn,

kadois év xavéoww* drip xpéa vetpev ’AXtAEts.
abris 6’ dvriov (ev ’Oducaijos Seioro,

roixov rat éréporo* Seotar dé Siaat dvayer
Tlérpoxdov, dv Eratpov: 6 & év rupi Badre Sunddg.
ol d’ én dveiaS’ Eroipa mpoxeiueva Xetpas taddov.
abrap ene méotos Kal édnrbos ey Epov Evro,

veto’ tAas Boivixe. vénoe dé dios 'Odvaceds*
mdnoduevos 3’ otvoio dénag, dsiexr’ 'AXtAija*

Kaip’, Axidred!

The following is a translation by Pope:

“ Patroclus, crown a larger bowl,
Mix purer wine, and open every soul.
Of all the warriors yonder host can send,
Thy friend most honours these, and these thy friend.”
He said: Patroclus o’er the blazing fire
Heaps in a brazen vase three chines entire :
The brazen vase Automedon sustains,
Which flesh of porket, sheep, and goat contains:
Achilles at the genial feast presides,
The parts transfixes, and with skill divides.
Meanwhile Patroclus sweats the fire to raise ;
The tent is brighten’ed with the rising blaze:
PHILOSOPHICAL HISTORY OF THE KITCHEN. 9297

Then, when the languid flames at length subside,
He strews a bed of glowing embers wide,
Above the coals the smoking fragments turns
And sprinkles sacred salt from lifted urns :
With bread the glittering canisters they load
Which round the board Mencetius’ son bestow’d:
Himself, opposed to Ulysses, full in sight,
Each portion parts, and orders every rite.
The first fat offerings, to the immortals due,
Amid the greedy Patroclus threw ;
Then each, indulging in the social feast,
His thirst and hunger soberly repress’d.
That done, to Phoenix Ajax gave the sign ;
Not unperceived ; Ulysses crown’d with wine
The foaming bowl, and instant thus began,
His speech addressing to the godlike man:

“‘ Health to Achilles !””

Thus then a king, a son of a king, and three Gre-
cian leaders dined very comfortably on bread, wine,
and broiled meat.

We cannot but think that Achilles and Patroclus
themselves prepared the entertainment, if only to do
honor to the distinguished guests they received. Or-
dinarily the kitchen business was abandoned to slaves
and women, as Homer tells us in Odyssey when he
refers to the entertainment of the heralds.

The entrails of animals stuffed with blood were at
that time looked on as very great delicacies.

At that time and long before, beyond doubt, poetry
and music, were mingled with meals. Famous min-
strels sang the wonders of nature, the loves of the
298 PHILOSOPHICAL HISTORY OF THE KITCHEN.

gods, and warlike deeds of man. ‘Theirs was a kind
of priesthood, and it is probable that the divine Homer
himself was sprang from one of those men favored by
heaven. He would not have been so eminent had not
his poetical studies begun in his childhood.

Madame Dacier observes that Homer does not
speak of boiled meat anywhere in his poems. The
Jews had made much greater progress in consequence
of their captivity in Egypt. They had kettles.
Esau’s mess of potage must have been made thus.
For this he sold his birthright.

It is difficult to say how men learned the use of
metals. Tubal Cain, it is said, was the inventor.

In the present state of knowledge, we use one me-
tal to manufacture another. We overcome them with
iron pincers; cut them with steel files, but I never
met with any one who could tell me who made the
first file or pair of pincers.

ORIENTAL ENTERTAINMENTS.—GRECIAN.

Cookery made great advances. We are ignorant
however of its utensils, whether of iron, pottery or of
tin material.

The oldest books we know of make honorable
mention of oriental festivals. It is not difficult to be-
lieve that monarchs who ruled such glorious realms
abounded in all that was grateful. We only know
that Cadmus who introduced writing into Greece, was
cook of the king of Sidon.
HILOSOPHICAL HISTORY OF THE KITCHEN. 299

The idea of surrounding the table with couches,
originated from this voluptuous prince.

Cookery and its flavors were then highly esteemed
by the Athenians, a people fond of all that was new.
From what we read in their histories, there is no doubt
but that their festivals were true feasts.

The wines of Greece, which even now we find ex-. , J
cellent, have been estimated by scientific gourmonds J
the most delicious that were.

The most beautiful women that ever came to adorn
our entertainments were Greeks, or of Grecian origin.

The wisest men of old were anxious to display the
luxury of such enjoyments. Plato, Atheneus, and
many others, have preserved their names. The works
of all of them, however, are lost, and if any remember
them, it is only those who have heard of a long for-
gotten and lost book, the Gastronomy Azqsvrpido7s—
the friend of one of the sons of Pericles.

Such was the cookery of Greece, which sent forth a
few men who first established themselves in the Tiber,
and then took possession of the world.

ROMAN FESTIVALS.

Good cheer was unknown to the Romans as long as
they thought to preserve their independence or to
overcome their neighbors, who were poor as they
were. Their generals therefore lived on vegetables.
Historians have never failed to praise these times,
when frugality was a matter of honor. When, how-
300 PHILOSOPHICAL HISTORY OF THE KITCHEN.

ever, their conquests had extended into Africa, Sicily
and Hellas, when they had to live as people did’
where civilization was more advanced, they brought
back to Rome the tastes which had attended them in
foreign lands.

The Romans sent to Athens a deputation charged
to bring back the laws of Solon. They also sent them
thither to study belles lettres and philosophy. While
their manners became polished they became aware of
the attractions of festivals. And poets, philosophers,
orators, etc., all came to Rome at once.

As time advanced, and as the series of events
attracted to Rome almost all the riches of the world,
the luxury of the table became incredible.

Every thing was eaten—the grass-hopper and the
ostrich, the squirrel and the wild-boar—all imaginable
vegetables were put in requisition.

Armies and travellers put all the world in requisi-
tion. The most distinguished Roman citizens took plea-
ure, not only in the cultivation of fruits once known,
uch as pears, apples, etc., but sought out things Lu-
dcullus never dreamed of. These importations which nat-
urally had a great influence, prove at least that the
impulse was general, that each one sought to contribute
to the enjoyment of those around him.

  

Our drinks were not the object of less attention, nor
of less attentive cares. The Romans were delighted
with the wines of Italy, Greece, and Sicily. As they
estimated their value from the year in which they were
PHILOSOPHICAL HISTORY OF THE KITCHEN. 801

made, we may understand Cicero’s much abused
line,

Oh tortuna tam, natura, me consule Roman.

This was not all. In consequence of an instinct
hithetto referred to, an effort was made to make them
more highly perfumed, and flowers, aromatics, etc.,
were infused. Such things which the Romans called
condita, must have had a very bad effect on the stomach.

Thus the Romans came to dream of alcohol, which
was not discovered until long after they were born.

RESURRECTION OF LUCULLUS.

The glorious days of old might arise again, and
nothing but a Lucullus is needed, to bring this about.
Let us fancy that any man, known to be rich, should
wish to celebrate any great act, and give in this man-
ner an occasion for a famous entertainment.

Let us suppose that he appeals to every one to adorn
his entertainment, and orders every possible resource
to be prepared.

Let him make every imaginable preparation and Lu-
cullus would be as nothing compared with the civilized
world as it is.

Both the Romans and the Athenians had beds to
eat on. They achieved the purpose but indirectly.

At first they used beds only for the sacred festivals
offered to the gods. The magistrates and principal
men, adopted the custom, and ere long, it became

26
302 PHILOSOPHICAL HISTORY OF THE KITCHEN.

general and was preserved until in the beginning of
the fourth century.

These couches were at first, only boxes filled with
straw, and covered with skins. Gradually, however,
they became more luxurious, and were made ‘of the
most precious woods, inlaid with ivory, and sometimes
with gems. Their cushions were soft and their covers
magnificently embroidered.

People only laid down on the left elbow. Three
usually slept together.

This the Romans called lectisterntwm. It is not a
very bad name.

In a physical point of view incubitation demands a
certain exhibition of power to preserve equlibrium, and
is not without a degree of pain; the elbow supporting
an undue proportion of the weight of the body.

In a physiological point of view, something also is
to be said. Imbuccation (swallowing) is effected in a
less natural manner. The food is passed with more
difficulty into the stomach.

The ingestion of liquids, or drinking, is yet more
dificult. It required particular attention not to spill
the wine from the large cups on the tables of the
great. Thence came the proverb:

“ Between the cup and lip,
There is often time a slip.”

None could eat comfortably when reclining, espe-
cially when we remember that many of the guests had
PHILOSOPHICAL HISTORY OF THE KITCHEN. 303

long beards, and that fingers, or at least only knives
were used. Forks are an invention of modern times,
for none were found at Herculeneum.

Some violations of modesty must also have occurred
at repasts which frequently exceeded the bounds of
temperance, and where the two sexes have fallen asleep,
and were mingled together. A poet says:

‘Nam pransus, jaceo, et satur supinus,
Pertundo tunicamque, palliumque.”

When christianity had acquired some power, its
priests lifted up their voices against intemperance.
They declaimed against the length of meals which
violated all prudence by surrounding persons by every
species of voluptuousness. Devoted by choice to an
austere regimen, they placed gourmandise in the list of
capital sins, and rigidly commented on the mingling of
sexes and the use of beds, a habit which they said
produced the luxury they deplored.

Their menacing voice was heard; couches disap-
peared, and the old habit of eating sitting, was re-
stored. Fortunately this did not violate the demands
of pleasure.

POETRY.

Convivial poetry then underwent a new modification,
and in the mouths of Horace and Tibullus assumed a
languor the Greeks were ignorant of.
804 PHILOSOPHICAL HISTORY OF THE KITCHEN.

Dulce ridentem Lalagem amabo,

Dulce luquentem.
Hor.

Queeris quot mihi batiationes
Tuee, Lesbia, sint satis superque.
Cat.

Pande, puella, pande capillulos
Flavos, lucentus ut aurum nitidum.
Pande, puella, collum candidum
Productum bene candidis humeris.
GaLLus.

IRRUPTION OF THE BARBARIANS.

The five or six centuries we shall run over in a few
pages, were glorious days for the cuisine ; the irruption
however of northern men overturned and destroyed
everything.

When the strangers appeared, alimentary art made
its appearance, as did the others that are its compan-
ions. ‘The greater portion of the cooks were massacred
in the palaces they served. The foreigners came and
they were able to eat as much in an hour as civilized
people did in a week.

Although that which is excessive is not durable—
conquerors are always cruel. They united themselves
with the victors, who received some tints of civilization,
and began to know the pleasures of civilized life.

About the seventeenth century, the Dutch imported
coffee into Europe. Solyman Agu, a Turk, whom our
PHILOSOPHICAL HISTORY OF THE KITCHEN. 305

great, great grandfathers well remember, sold the first
cups in 1760. An American sold it in 1670, and
dealt it out from a marble bar, as we see now.

The use of coffee then dates from the eightecnth
century. Distillation, introduced by the crusades,
remained arcana with few adepts. About the com-
mencement of the reign of Louis XIV, alambics
became more common, but not until the time of Louis
XY., did the drink become really popular.

About the same time the use of tobacco was intro-
duced. So that sugar, coffee and tobacco, the three
most important articles of luxury in Europe, are
scarcely two centuries old.

[The translator here omits a whole Meditation. It
would now be scarcely pleasant. ]

26 *
MEDITATION XXVIII.

RESTAURATEURS.

A RESTAURATEUR is one, the business of whom is to
offer a dinner always ready, and with prices to suit
those that consume them.

    

_ Of all those who frequent restaurants, few persons
cannot understand that a restorateur is not necessarily
a man of genius.

We shall follow out the affiliation of ideas which

has led to the present state of affairs.

ESTABLISHMENT.

About 1770, after the glorious days of Louis XIV.,
and the frolics and tranquility of the regency of Car-
dinal Fleury, foreigners had few means of good cheer.

They were forced to have recourse to inn-keepers,
the cookery of whom was generally very bad. A few
hotels kept a table d@hote which generally contained
only what was very necessary, and which was always
ready at an appointed hour.

The people we speak of only ordered whole joints,
or dishes, and consequently such an order of things

could not last.
(306)
v
RESTAURATEURS. 307

At last a man of sense arose, who thought that an
active cause must have its effect. That as the same
want sent people every day to his house, consumers
would come whenever they were satisfied that they
would be served. They saw that if a wing was cut
from a fowl for one person, some one would be sure to
taste the thigh. The separation of one limb would not
injure the flavor of the rest of the animal. More pay
the least attention to the increase of prices, when one
considers the prompt service of what was served.

This man thought of many things, which we may
now easily devise. The one who did so was the first
restaurateur and the inventor of a business which is a
fortune to all who exercise it promptly and honorably.

[The translator here omits a whole chapter. ]

From the examination of the bills of fare of differ-
ent restaurants, any one who sets down at the table,
has the choice of the following dishes :—

12 soups.

24 side dishes.

15 or 20 preparations of beef.

20 of mutton.

80 of fowl or game.

16 or 20 of veal.

12 of pastry.

24 of fish.

15 roasts.

50 side dishes.

50 desserts.
308 RESTAURATEURS.

Besides the fortunate gastronomer has thirty kinds
of wine to select from, passing over the whole scale
from Burgundy to Tokay, and Constantia, and twenty
various kinds of essences, without taking into conside-
ration such mixed drinks as punch, negus, sillabubs
and the like.

Of the various parts of a good dinner, many are
indigenous, such as butcher’s meat, fowl and fruits.
Others for instance, the beef-stake, Welch rare-bit,
punch, etc., were invented in England. Germany,
Spain, Italy, Holland, all contribute, as does India,
Persia, Arabia, and each pay their quota, in sour-krout,
raisins, parmera, bolognas, curacao, rice, sago, Soy, po-
tatoes, etc. The consequence is, that a Parisian din-
ner is perfectly cosmopolitan.

[The translator here omits two Meditations, which
refer exclusively to Paris is 1825. Few Frenchmen
now would understand them, and none but a French-
man could.]
PHYSIOLOGY OF TASTE.

PART SECOND.

TRANSITION.

Ir I have been read with the attention I wished,
all must have seen that I had a double purpose in
view. The first was to establish the theoretical basiat},
of Gastronomy, so as to place it among sciences where
it should doubtless be. The second was to define gour-
mandise, and to separate this social character, as free
from gluttony and intemperance, with which it is often
confounded.

This egutvoque has been introduced by intolerant
moralists, who, deceived by too much zeal, saw ex-
cesses where there was only innocent enjoyment
The treasures of creation were not made to be trodden
under the feet. It was afterwards propagated by
grammarians who defined it as blind men do, and who
swore in verba magistrt.

It is time that such an error should cease, for now
all the world understand each other. This is true, for
there never was a person who would not confess to

some tincture of gourmandise, and even would not boast
(309)
310 TRANSITION.

of it, none however would not look on gluttony ag an
‘insult, just as they do on intemperance and voracity.

About these two cardinal points, it seems that what
I have described should satisfy all those who do not
refuse conviction. I might then lay down my pen and
look on the task I have imposed on myself as finished.
As however, I approached those subjects which belong
to every thing, I remembered many things which it did
not seem to me fit to write, such as anecdotes, bon
mots, recipes, and other odd things.

Had they been put in the theoretical portion of the
book they would have taken the connection; place
them all together, they will not be disadvantageous
because they contain some experimental truths and
useful explanations.

I have also inserted personal biography, but when
I read them over, I feel to a degree uneasy.

This anxiety originated in my last lectures and
glossaries, which are in the hands of every body.
I think, however, that I may be tranquil, having
sheltered myself under the mantle of philosophy, I
insist that my enemies have uneasy consciences and

ce badly.
VARIETIES.

Ts
L’OMELETTE DU CURE.

Att know that twenty years ago, Madame R.
was the most beautiful woman in Paris. All know
that she was very charitable and took an interest in
the various enterprises, the object of which was the
alleviation of misery, perhaps greater in the capital
than elsewhere.

 

Having business with the curé of , she went
thither about five P. M., and was surprised to find him
at dinner.

She believed that every body dined at six P. M.,
and was not aware that ecclesiastics dined earlier, from
the fact that they were used to take light collations.

Madame R wished to retire, but the curé
would not permit her to do so, either because the
matter under discussion would not interrupt conver-
sation, or that a pretty woman never disturbs any

 

 

entertainment.

The table was very well arranged ; old wine sparkled
in a chrystal flagon, and the porcelain was faultless.
The plates were kept hot by boiling water, and an old
housekeeper was in attendance.

(311)
312 VARIETIES.

The meal was half way between luxury and absti-
nence. A soup of écrevisses was removed and a salmon
trout, an omelette, and a salad were placed on the table.

‘«My dinner tells you,” said the priest “what you
do not know, that to day is a fast day.” My friend
assented with a blush.

They began with the trout, the shoulders of which
were soon eaten. The sauce was made by a com-
petent person and the pastor’s brow was irradiated
with joy.

Then the omelette, which was round and done to a
point, was attached.

As soon as the spoon touched it, the odor and per-
fume it contained escaped, and my friend owns that it
made her mouth water.

The curé had a sympathetic movement for he was
used to watch my passions. In reply to a question
he saw Madame R was about to ask, he said,
“Tt is an omelette aw thon. My cook understands
them simply, and few people ever taste them without
complimenting her. “I am not amazed,” said his
lady guest, ‘‘for I never ate anything so delightful.”

Then came the salad. (I recommend it to those
who have confidence in me. It refreshes without ex-
citing. I think it makes people younger.)

Dinner did not interrupt conversation. They talked
of the affair which had occasioned the visit, of the
war, of business, of other things which made a bad
dinner passably good.

 
VARIETIES. 313

The dessert came. It consisted of septmoncel cheese,
of apples and preserves.

At last the house-keeper brought forward a little
round table, such as once was called a gueridon, on
which was a cup of strong mocha, the perfume of
which filled the room.

Having sipped it, the curé said grace, and arose,
adding “‘I never take spirits, though I offer them to
my guests. J reserve them as a succor for extreme
old age.”

While all this was progressing, time had passed,

and as it was six o’clock, Madame R Was anxious

 

to get into her carriage, for she had several friends to
dine with her. She came late, and told her guests, of
whom I was one, what she had seen.

The conversation passed from subject to subject,
but I, as a philosopher, thought: the secret of the pre-
paration of such a dish must be valuable. I ordered
my cook to obtain the recipe in its most minute
details. JI publish it the more willingly now, because
I never saw it in any book.

OMELETTE AU THON.

Take for six persons the roe of four cash* and
steep them for a few minutes in salt water just below
boiling point.

* The translator has followed this recipe with shad, pike,
pickerel, etc., and can recommend it with a quiet conscience.
Any fish is a substitute for tunny.

27
~

314 VARIETIES.

Put in also a fresh tunny about as large as an egg,
to which you must add a charlotte minced.

Mix the tunny and the roes together, and put the
whole in a kettle with a portion of good butter, and
keep it on the fire until the butter has melted. This
is the peculiarity of the omelette.

‘Take then another piece of butter and mix it with
parsely and sage. Put it in the dish intended to
receive the omelette, cover it with lemon juice and
put it on hot coals.

Then beat twelve eggs, (fresh as possible), pour in
the fish and roe so that all may be perfectly mixed.

Then cook the omelette as usual, making it thin
and firm. Serve it up hot.

This dish should be reserved for breakfasts, where
all the guests are connoisseurs. It is caviare to the
vulgar.

OBSERVATIONS.

1. The roes and fish should be warmed, not boiled.
They will thus mingle more easily with the eggs.

2. The plate should be deep.

8. It should be warm, for a cold porcelain plate
would extract the caloric of the omelette and make it
insipid.

II.
A NATIONAL VICTORY.

When I lived in New York I used every once in a
while to pass the evening in a kind of tavern kept by
VARIETIES. 315

a man named Little, (the old bank coffee house) where
one could always get turtle soup and all the dishes
common in the United States.

I often went thither with the Vicomte de la Mas-
sue and M. Fehr, an old broker of Marsailles; all
three of us were emigrants, and we used to drink ale
and cider, and pass the evening very pleasantly
together.

There I became acquainted with a Mr. Wilkinson,
who was a native of Jamaica, and a person he was
very intimate with, for he never left him. The latter,
the name of whom I do not remember was one of the
most extraordinary men I ever met. He had a square
face, keen eyes, and appeared to look attentively at
everything, though his features were motionless as
those of a blind man. When he laughed it was with
what the English call a horse-laugh, and immediately
resumed his habitual taciturnity. Mr. Wilkinson
seemed about forty, and, in manner and appearance,
seemed to be a gentleman.

The Englishman seemed to like our company, and
more than once shared the frugal entertainment I
offered my friends, when Mr. Wilkinson took me one
evening aside and said he intended to ask us all to
dine with him.

I accepted the invitation for three o'clock on the
third day after.

The evening passed quietly enough, but when I was
about to leave, a waiter came to me and said that the
316 VARIETIES.

West Indian had ordered a magnificent dinner, think-
ing their invitation a challenge. The man with the
horse-laugh had undertaken to drink us Frenchmen
drunk.

This intelligence would have induced me, if possi-
ble, to decline the banquet. It was, however, impos-
sible, and following the advice of the Marshal de
Saxe, we determined, as the wine was uncorked, to
drink it.

I had some anxiety, but being satisfied that my
constitution was young, healthy and sound, I could
easily get the better of the West Indian, who proba-
bly was unused to liquors.

I however, went to see Messrs. Fehr and Massue,
and in an occular allocution, told them of my plans. I
advised them to drink as little as possible, and to
avoid too many ‘glasses, while I talked to our
antagonists. Above all things, I advised them to
keep up some appetite, telling them that food had the
effect of moderating the fumes of wine.

- Thus physically and morally armed, we went to the
old bank coffee house, where we found our friends ;
dinner was soon ready. It consisted of a huge piece
of beef, a roasted turkey, (plain) boiled vegetables, a
salad and pastry.

Wine was put on the table. It was claret, very
good, and cheaper than it then was in France.

Mr. Wilkinson did the honors perfectly, asking us
to eat, and setting us an example, while his friend,
VARIETIES. 317

who seemed busy with his plate, did nothing but laugh
at the corners of his mouth.

My countrymen delighted me by their discretion.

After the claret came the port and Madeira. To
the latter we paid great attention.

Then came the dessert composed of butter, cheese
and hickory nuts. Then came the time for toasts, and
we drank to our kings, to human liberty, and to Wil-
kinson’s daughter Maria, who was, as he said, the
prettiest woman in Jamaica.

Then came spirits, viz., rum, brandy, ete. Then
came songs, and I saw things were getting warm. I
was afraid of brandy and asked for punch. Little
brought a bowl, which, doubtless, he had prepared be-
fore. It held enough for forty people, and was larger
than any we have in France.

This gave me courage; I ate five or six well but-
tered rolls, and I felt my strength revive. I looked
around the table and saw my compatriots apparently
fresh enough, while the Jamaican began to grow red
in the face, and seemed uneasy. His friend said
nothing, but seemed so overcome that I saw the catas-
trophe would soon happen.

I cannot well express the amazement caused by this
denouement, and from the burden of which I felt my-
self relieved. Irang the bell; Little came up; I said,
“see these gentlemen well taken care of.’’ We drank
a glass to their health. At last the waiter came and
bore off the defeated party feet foremost. Wilkin-

27 *
818 VARIETIES.

son’s friend was motionless, and our host would insist
on singing, “Rule Britannia.’’*

The New York papers told the story the next day,
and added that the Englishman had died. This was
not so, for Mr. Wilkinson had only a slight attack of
the gout.

Til.

MYSTIFICATION OF THE PROFESSOR AND DEFEAT OF A
GENERAL.

Several years ago the newspapers told us of the
discovery of a new perfume called the emérocallis, a
bulbous plant, which has an odor not unlike the
jasmin.

I am very curious, and was, therefore, induced in
all probability to go to the Foubourg St. Germain,
where I could find the perfume.

I was suitably received, and a little flask, very well
wrapped up, was handed me, which seemed to contain
about two ounces. In exchange for it I left three
francs.

An étourdi would at once have opened, smelled
and tasted it. A professor, however, acts differently,
and I thought modesty would become me. I took the
flagon then and went quietly home, sat on my sofa
ynd prepared to experience a new sensation.

\I took the package from my pocket and untied the

*The translator is sorry to say, that at the time Savarin
speaks of, “ Rule Britannia” was not written.
VARIETIES. 319

wrappings which surrounded it. They were three
different descriptions of the emérocallis, and referred
to its natural history, its flower, and its exquisite per-
fume, either in the shape of pastilles, in the kitchen,
or in ices. J read each of the wrappings. 1. To in-
demnify myself as well as I could for the price I have
spoken of above. 2. To prepare myself for an ap-
preciation of the new and valuable extract I have
spoken of.

I then opened, with reverence, the box I supposed |
full of pasti/les. To my surprise, however, I found
three other copies of the edition I had so carefully
read. Inside I found about two dozen of the cubes I
had gone so far for.

I tasted them, and must say that I found them very
agreeable. I was sorry though, that they were so few
in number, and the more I thought of the matter, the
more I became mystified.

I then arose with the intention of carrying the box
back to its manufacturer. Just then, however, I
thought of my grey hairs, laughed at my vivacity, and
sat down. '

A particular circumstance also recurred tome. I had
to deal with a druggist, and only four days ago I had
a specimen of one of that calling.

I had one day to visit my friend Bouvier des
LEclats.

I found him strolling in a most excited state, up
320 VARIETIES.

\ and down the room, and crushing in his hands a piece
\s poetry, I thought a song.
| He gave it to me and said, “look at this, you know
yall about it.””

I saw at once that it was an apothecary’s bill. I
was not consulted as a poet, but as a pharmaceutist.

I knew what the trade was, and was advising him
to be quiet, when the door opened, and we saw a man
of about fifty-five enter. He was of moderate stature
and his whole appearance would have been stern, had
there not been something sardonic about his lips.

He approached the fire-place, refused to sit down,
and I heard the following dialogue I have faithfully
recorded.

“Monsieur,” said the general, “‘ you sent me a reg-
ular apothecary’s bill.”

The man in black said that he was not an apothe-
cary.

“What then are you?” said the general.

“Sir, I am a pharmaceutist.”

“Well,” said the general, “‘ your boy—”

“Sir, I have no boy.”

“Who then was the young man you sent thither ?”

“ My pupil—”’

“T wish to say, sir, that your drugs—”

“ Sir, I do not sell drugs—’

“What then do you sell ?”

“Remedies.”

The general at once became ashamed at having com-
VARIETIES. 821

mitted so many solicisms in a few moments, and paid
the bill.

IV.

THE SNARE.

The chevalier de Langeac was rich, but his fortune
was dispensed as is the fortune of all rich men.

He funded the remnants, and aided by a little pen-
sion from the government, he contrived to lead a very
pleasant life.

Though naturally very gallant, he had nothing to d

with women.
As his other powers passed away, his gourmandis

increased. He became a professor and received nor
invitations than he could accept.

Lyons is a pleasant city, for there one can get vin
de Bourdeaux, Hermitage and Burgundy. The game
of the neighborhood is very good, and unexceptionable
fish is taken from the lakes in the vicinity. Every
body loves Bresse chickens.

Langeac was therefore welcome at all the best tables
of the city, but took especial delight in that of a cer-
tain M. A.

In the winter of 1780, the chevalier received a let-
ter, inviting him to sup ten days after date, (at that
time I know there were suppers) and the chevalier
quivered with emotion at the idea.

He, at the appointed time, made his appearance,
and found ten guests. There was at that time no such ”
word as gastronomy.
322 VARIETIES.

A grand dinner was soon served, consisting of fish,
flesh, and fowl.

All was very good, but the chevalier was not satis-
fied with the hopes he had entertained.

Another thing amazed him. His guests did not
seem to eat. The chevalier was amazed to see that
so many anti-convivial persons had been collected, and
thinking that he had to do justice to all these fasting
people set to work at once.

The second service was solid as the first. A huge
turkey was dressed plain, flavored by salads and mac-
aroni au parmesan.

When he saw this, the chevalier felt his strength
revive; all the other guests were overpowered, excited
by the changes of wines, he triumphed over their im-
potence, and drank their health again and again.
Every time he drank their health, he took a slice from
the turkey.

Due attention was paid to the side-dishes, and the
chevalier stuck to business longer than any one would
have thought possible. He only revived when the
becfigues appeared, and became fully aroused when
truffles were put on the table.

THE TURBOT.

Discord one day sought to effect an entrance into
one of the most harmonious houses of Paris. A tur-
bot was to be cooked.
VARIETIES. 393

The fish was on the next day to be served to a com-
pany of which I was one; it was fresh, fat, and glori-
ous, but was so large that no dish in the house could
hold it.

“Let us cut it in half,” said the husband.

“Would you thus dishonor it?” said the wife.

“We must, my dear.”

“Well, bring the knife, we will soon do it.”

“Wait though, our cousin, who is a professor, will
soon be here. He will relieve us from the dilemma.

The gordian knot was about to be released, when I
came in hungry, as a man always is at seven P. M.

When I came in I tried in vain to make the usual
compliments. No one listened, and for that reason
no one replied to me. The subject in discussion was
at once submitted to me.

I made up my mind at once, went to the kitchen,
found a kettle large enough to boil the whole fish, and
did so. There was a procession composed of the mas-
ter, mistress, servants, and company, but they all
approved of what I did. With the fish we boiled
bulbous root and other vegetables.*

When the fish was cooked we sat down at the
table, our ideas being somewhat sharpened by the
delay, and sought anxiously for the time, of which
Homer speaks, when abundance expells hunger.

* From the above it is very clear that Brillat Savarin made
what the late D. Webster called a ‘‘ chowder.”
824 VARIETIES.

e

[The translator here omits a very excellent recipe
for a fish-chowder. Everybody knows it. ]

VI.
PHEASANTS.

None but adepts know what a pheasant is. They
only can appreciate it.

Everything has its apogee of excellence, some of
which, like capers, asparagus, partridges, callow-birds,
etc., are eatable only when they are young. Others
are edible only when they obtain the perfection of
their existence, such as melons and fruits, and the
majority of the beasts which furnish us with animal
food. Others are not good until decomposition begins,
such as the snipe and pheasant.

When the pheasant is eaten only three days after
its death, it has no peculiarity; it has not the flavor
of a pullet, nor the perfume of a quail.

It is, however, a highly flavored dish, about half
way between chicken and venison.

It is especially good when the pheasant begins
to be decomposed—an aroma and exciting oil is
then produced, like coffee, only produced by torrefac-
tion.

This becomes evident by a slight smell and change

f color. Persons possessed, however, of the instincts
fof gourmandise see it at once, just as a good cook
i knows whether he should take his bird from the spit

or give it a turn or two more.
VARIETIES. 395

When the pheasant is in that condition it should be
plucked, and not before.

The bird should then be stuffed, and in the follow-
ing manner:

Take two snipe and draw them so as to put the
birds on one plate, and the livers, etc., on another.

Take the flesh and mingle it with beef, lard and
herbes fines, adding also salt and truffles enough to
fill the stomach of the pheasant.

Cut a slice of bread larger, considerably, than the
pheasant, and cover it with the liver, etc., and a few
truffles. An anchovy and a little fresh butter will do
no harm.

Put the pheasant on this preparation, and when it
is boiled surround it with Florida oranges. Do not
be uneasy about your dinner,

Drink burgundy after this dish, for long experi-
ence has taught me that it is the proper wine.

A pheasant served in this way is a fit dish for
angels, if they visited the world as they did in Lot’s
day.

What I say, experience has already proved. A
pheasant thus stuffed by Picard at La Grange* was
brought on the table by the cook himself. It was
looked on by the ladies as they would have looked at
one of Mary Herbault’s hats. It was scientifically
tasted, and in the interim the ladies eyes shone like
stars, and their lips became coral.

* Does he refer to La Fayette’s estate?
28
326 VARIETIES.

T did more than this; I gave a similar proof to the
judges of the supreme court. They are aware that the
toga is sometimes to be laid aside, and I was able to
show to several that good cheer was a fit companion
and reward for the labors of the senate. After a few
moments the oldest judge uttered the word excellent.
All bowed, and the court adopted the decision. I
had observed that the venerable old men seemed to
take great delight in smelling the dish, and that their
august brows were agitated by expressions of extreme
serenity, something like a half smile hanging on their
lips.

All this thing, however is naturally uccounted for.
The pheasant, itself, a very good bird, had imbibed the
dressing and the flavor of the truffle and snipe. It
thus becomes thrice better.

Thus of all the good things collected, every atom
is appreciated and the consequence is, I think the
pheasant fit for the table of a prince. ~

Parve, nec invideo, sine me liber, ibis in aulam.

VII.

GASTRONOMICAL INDUSTRY OF THE EMIGRES.
Toute Francaise, a ce que j’imagine,
Sait, bien ou mal faire, un peu de cuisine.
Belle Arsene, Act. HT.
In a chapter written for the purpose, the advanta-
ges France derived from gourmandise in 1815, were
* fully explained. This was not less useful to emdgres ;
VARIETIES. 327

all those who had any alimentary resources, received
much benefit from it.

When I passed through Boston, I taught a cook,
named Julien, who in 1794 was in his glory, how to
serve eggs with cheese. Julien was a skilful lad, and
had, he said, been employed by the Archbishop of
Bourdeaux. This was to the Americans a new dish,
and Julien in return, sent mea beautiful deer he had
received from Canada, which those I invited to do
honour to it, thought admirable.

Captain Collet also, in 1794 and 1795 earned much
money by the manufacture of ices and sherbets.

Women always take care to enjoy any pleasures
which are new to them. None can form an idea of
their surprise. They could not understand how it
could remain so cold, when the thermometer was at
26° Reaumur.

When I was at Cologne, I found a Breton nobleman,
who thought himself very fortunate, asthe keeper of
a public house; and I might multiply these examples
indefinitely. I prefer however to tell of a Frenchman,
who became very rich at London, from the skill he
displayed in making salad. :

He was a Limousin, and if I am not mistaken, was
named Aubignac, or Albignac.

Poor as he was, he went, however, one day to dine
at one of the first restaurants of London. He could
always make a good dinner on a single good dish.

While he was discussing a piece of roast beef, five
e 3828 VARIETIES.

or six dandies sat at the next table, and one of them
advanced and said, “Sir, they say your people excel
in the art of making a salad. Will you be kind
enough to oblige us?

After some hesitation d’Albignac consented, and
having set seriously to work, did his best.

While he was making his mixture, he replied frankly
to questions about his condition, and my friend owned,
not without a little blushing, that he received the aid
of the English government, a circumstance which
doubtless induced one of the young men to slip a ten
pound bank bill into his hand.

He gave them his address, and not long after, was
much surprised to receive a letter inviting him to come
to dress a salad at one of the best houses in Grosvenor
square.

D’Albignac began to see that he might draw con-
siderable benefit from it, and did not hesitate to accept
the offer. He took with him various preparations which
he fancied would make his salad perfect as possible.

He took more pains in this second effort, and suc-
ceeded better than he had at first. On this occasion
so large a sum was handed to him that he could not
with justice to himself refuse to accept it.

The young men he met first, had exaggerated the
salad he had prepared for them, and the second enter-
tainment was yet louder in its praise. He became
famous as “the fashionable salad-maker,’ and those
who knew anything of satirical poetry remembered :
VARIETIES. 329

Désir de nonne est un feu pui dévore,
Desir d’ Anglaise est cent fois piri encore,

D’Albignac, like a man of sense, took advantage of
the excitement, and soon obtained a carriage, that he
might travel more rapidly from one part of the town
to the other. He had in a mahogany case all the in-
gredients he required.

Subsequently he had similar cases prepared and
filled, which he used to sell by the hundred.

Ultimately he made a fortune of 80,000 francs,
which he took to France when times became more
peaceful.

When he had returned to France, he did not hurry
to Paris, but with laudable precaution, placed 60,000
francs in the funds, and with the rest purchased a littie
estate, on which, for aught I know, he now lives hap-
pily. His funded money paid him fifty per cent.

These facts were imparted to me by a friend, who
had known D ’Albignac in London, and who had met
him after his return.

VIII.
RECOLLECTIONS OF THE EMIGRATION.

THE WEAVER

In 1794, M. de Rostaing, my cousin and friend,
now military intendant at Lyons, a man of great tal-
ent and ability, and myself were in Switzerland.

We went to Mondon, where I had many relations,

28
330 VARIETIES.

and was kindly received by the family of Troillet. I
will never forget their hospitality.

I was there shown a young French officer who was
a Weaver, and who became one thus :—

This young man, a member of a very good family,
was passing through Mondon, to join Condes army,
and chanced to meet an old man with one of the ani-
mated heads usually attributed by painters to the com-
panions of the famous Tell.

At their dessert, the officer did not conceal his situ-
ation, and received much sympathy from his new
friend. The latter complained that at such an
age, he had now to renounce all that was pleasant,
and that every man should, as Jean Jacques, says,
have some trade to support themselves in adversity.

The conversation paused there; and a short time
after, he joined the army of Condé. From what
he saw there, however, he saw he never could expect
to enter France in that way.

Then he remembered the words of the weaver; and
finally making up his mind, left the army, returned to
Mondon, and begged the weaver to receive him as an

pprentice.

On the next day the officer set to work, dining and

eeping with the weaver, and was so assiduous, that
after six months, his master told him, he had nothing
to} teach him, thought himself repaid for the care he

d bestowed, and that all he earned henceforth was
his own profit.
VARIETIES. 331

When I was at Mondon, the new artisan had earned
money enough to purchase a shop and a bed. He
worked with great assiduity, and such interest was/
taken in him, that some of the first houses of the cit
enquired after him every day.

On Sunday, he wore his uniform, and resumed hi
social rights. As he was very well read, all took
pleasure in his company, and he did not seem discon-:
tented with his fate.

THE STARVING.

To this picture of the advantage of industry, I am
about to add an altogether different one.

I met at Lausanne, an emigré from Lyons, who to
avoid work used to eat but twice a week. He would
have died beyond a doubt, if a merchant in the city |
had not promised to pay for his dinner every Sunday,
and Wednesday of the week.

The emigré came always at the appointed time, and
always took away a large piece of bread.

He had been living in this manner some three
months, when I met him; he had not been sick, but
he was so pale that it was sad to see him.

I was amazed that he would suffer such pain rather
than work. I asked him once to dine with me, but
did not repeat the invitation because I believe in obey-)
ing that divine precept, “ By the sweat of thy brow
shalt thou earn thy bread.”
332 VARIETIES.

SOJOURN, IN AMERICA.

From Switzerland I went to America.

& * * * * *
* * * * *
ASPARAGUS.

Passing one day in February, by the Palais Royal,
I paused before the shop of Mme Chevét, the largest
dealer in comestibles in Paris, who always wished me
well. Seeing a large box of asparagus, the smallest
of which was large as my finger, I asked the price.
*saidshe. ‘They are very fine, but
only a king or prince could eat at such a rate.”
“You are wrong sir,” said she, “‘such things never
go to palaces, but I will sell the asparagus.

‘“‘ There are now in this city at least three hundred
rich men, capitalists and financiers, retained at home
by gout, colds, and doctors. They are always busy

/to ascertain what will revive them and send _ their
/ valets out on voyages of discovery. Some one of
_ them will remark this asparagus, and it will be bought.

It may be, some pretty woman will pass with her

lover, and say, ‘what fine asparagus. How well my
-servant dresses it.’ The lover then does not hesitate,

‘and I will tell you a secret, that dear things are sold
\ more easily than cheap ones.”’

As she spoke two fat Englishmen passed us. They
seemed struck at once. One seized hold of the as-

“ Forty francs,’
VARIETIES. 333

paragus and without asking the price paid for it, and
as he walked away whistled ‘‘ God save the King.”

‘* Monsieur,” said Madame Chevet, ‘‘a thousand
things like this happen every day.”

FONDUE,

Fondue is a soup dish, and consists only in frying
eggs in cheese in proportions revealed by experience.
I will give the recipe. It is a pleasant dish, quickly
made and easily prepared for unexpected guests. I
refer to it here only for my peculiar pleasure, and be-
cause it preserves the memory of things which the old
men of Belley recollect.

Towards the end of the 17th century M. Madot
became bishop of Belley, and took possession of the
diocese.

Those to whom his reception had been confided had
provided an entertainment worthy of the occasion,
and made use of all the preparations then known in
the kitchen, to welcome my lord.

There was an immense fondue, to which the prelate
paid great attention ; to the surprise of all he ate it with
a spoon, instead of a fork, as people had been used to do.

All the guests looked at each other with a per-
ceptible smile on every face. A bishop from Paris,
however, must know how to eat. On the next day
there was a great deal of gossip, and people that met
at the corners, said “‘ Well did you see how our bishop
ate his fondue? I heard from a person who was
present that he used a spoon!”
334 VARIETIES.

The bishop had some followers, innovaters who pre-
ferred the spoon, but the majority preferred the fork,
and an old grand-uncle of mine used to laugh as if
he would die, as he told how M. de Madot ate fondue
with a spoon.

RECIPE FOR FONDUE, COPIED FROM THE PAPERS OF
M. TROLLET, BAILLI OF MONDON IN BERNE.

Calculate the number of eggs in proportion to the
guests.

Take one-third of the weight of Gruyere and one-
sixth of the weight of butter.

Beat the eggs and mingle them with the butter and
cheese in a casserole.

Put the kettle ona hot fire and stir it until the
mixture is perfect. Put in more or less salt in pro-
portion as the cheese is old or new. Serve it hot,
with good wine, of which one should drink much.
The feast will see sights.

DISAPPOINTMENT.

All one day was quiet at the Hew de France, be-
tween Bourg and Bresse, when the sound of wheels
was heard, and a superb English berline drove up, on
the box of which were two pretty Abigails, wrapped
in blue and red cloths.

At the sight, which announced a nobleman on his
travels, Chicot, that was his name, hurried to the door
of the equipage. The wife stood at the door, the
VARIETIES. $35

girls near by, while the boys from the stable hurried
forward satisfied that they would receive a handsome
gratuity.

The women were unpacked and there came from
the berline, Ist, a fat Englishman, 2d, two thin, pale,
red-haired girls, and 3d, a lady, apparently in the first
stage of consumption.

The last spoke :

‘“ Landlord,” said she, ‘‘ take care of the horses, give
us a room and the women refreshments. All must cost
only six francs; act accordingly.”

Chicot put on his bonnet, madame went into the
house, and the girls to their garrets.

The horses were, however, put into the stable, the
Englishman read the papers, and the women had a
pitcher of pure water. The ladies went up stairs.
The six francs were received as a poor compensation
for the trouble caused.

WONDERFUL EFFECTS OF A CLASSICAL DINNER.

«¢ Alas! how much I am to be pitied,”’ said the elegiac
voice of a gastronomer of the royal court of the
Seine. Hoping to be soon able to return home, I left
my cook there ; business detains me at Paris, and I
have to depend on an old women the preparations of
whom make mesick. Anything satisfies my wife and
children, but I am made a martyr of the spit and

”

pot.
Thus he spoke, as we walked slowly through the
336 VARIETIES.

place Dauphine. Luckily a friend heard the complaint,
who said, “ You will not, my friend, be a martyr.
Deign to accept a classical dinner to-morrow, and
after a game of piquet we will bury all in the abyss
of the past.”

The invitation was accepted, the mystery was
solved, and since the 23d June, 1825, the professor
has been delighted at having one of his best friends
in royal court.

EFFECT AND DANGER OF STRONG DRINKS.

The artificial thirst we previously alluded to, is that
which for the moment appeals to strong drinks as a
momentary relief. It gradually becomes so habitual
that those who grow used to it cannot do without it
even through the night, and have to leave their bed
to appease it.

This thirst then becomes a real disease, and when
he has reached that point, it may safely be said that
he has not two years to live.

I travelled in Holland with a rich Dantzick mer-
chant, who had for fifty years kept the principal house
for the sale of brandy.

“Monsieur,’’ said he “none in France are aware of
the importance of the trade in brandy, which for nearly
a century my father and myself have carried on. I
have watched with attention the workmen who yield
to it as too many Germans do, and they generally die
in the same manner.”
VARIETIES. 337

“At first they take simply a glass in the morning,
and for many years this suffices. It is a common
habit with all workmen, and any one who did not in-
dulge in it would be ridiculed by his companions.
Then they double the dose, that is to say, take a glass
at morning and night. Thus things continue about
three years, when they begin to drink three times a
day, and will only taste spirits in which highly scented
herbs have been infused. Having reached that point,
one may be sure they have not more than six months
to live, for they go to the hospital and are seen no
more.”

CHEVALIERS AND ABBES.

I have already referred to these categories of gour-
mandise destroyed by time.

As they disappeared thirty years since, few of the
present generation ever saw them.

About the end of the century they will probably
reappear, but as such a phenomenon demand the coin-
cidence of many future contingencies, I think few
who live will ever witness this palingenesia.

As a painter of manners J must give the last touch
to my portrait, and will borrow the following passage
from an author, who, I know, will refuse me nothing.

“The title of Chevalier was only correctly granted
to persons who had been decorated, or to the younger
sons of noble houses. Many of the Chevaliers of
those days, however, were self-created, and if they

29
338 VARIETIES.

had education and good manners, none doubted the
accolade.

“They were generally young, wore the sword ver-
tically and kept a stiff upper lip. They gamed and
fought and were a portion of the train of any fash-
ionable beauty.

At the commencement of the revolution many of
the Chevaliers joined the army of the emigrés, en-
listed or dispersed. The few who survive can yet be
recognized by their military air; almost all of them,
however, have the gout.

When any noble family had many children, one
was dedicated to the church; at first some benefice,
barely sufficient to pay for the expenses of education,
was obtained, and ultimately he became Prince, Abbé,
or Bishop, as circumstances dictated.

This was the real Abbé ; but many young men who
disliked the perils of the Chevalier, called themselves
Abbés when they came to Paris.

Nothing was so convenient, for, with a slight change
of dress, they could appear as priests and the equals
of anybody. There was a great advantage in this
for every house had its Abbé

They were generally small, round, well dressed and
agreeable. They were gourmands, active and pleas-
ant. The few that remain have became very devout
and very fat.

None could be more comfortable than a rich prior
or abbot. They had no superiors and nothing to do.
VARIETIES. 339

If there be a long peace, the priors will turn up
again, but unless there be a great change in the eccle-
siastical organization, the Abbés are lost for ever.

MISCELLANY.—WINE.

“Monsieur,” said an old marquise to me one day,
“which do you like best, Burgundy or Bordeaux?”
“Madame,” said I, ‘“‘I have such a passion for exam-
ining into the matter, that I always postpone the deci-
sion a week.”

STRAWBERRIES.

The Count de la Place recommends that strawberries
should always be dressed with orange juice.

JUDGMENT.

 

“¢ He is not a man of mind,” said the Count de M
“Why ?” “Ah! he does not eat pudding a la Richelieu,
nor cutlets a la Soubise.”

RAISINS.

“Take a raisin—”
“No I thank you; I do not like wine in pills.”

A DAY WITH THE BERNARDINES.

Tt was about one A. M., on a fine summer night,
and I set out after having been serenaded by many
who took an interest in us. This was about 1782.

I then was the chief of a troop of amateur musi-
cians, all of whom were young and healthy.
340 VARIETIES.

“Monsieur,” said the abbé of Saint Sulpice to me
one day, and he drew me into a window recess, ‘‘ you
would enjoy yourself very much if you come some day
to play for us at Saint Bernard’s. The Saints would
be delighted.”

I accepted the offer at once, for it seemed to pro-
mise us an agreeable evening. I nodded assent, and
all were amazed. .

_ Annuit, et totum nutu tremefecit olympum.

Every precaution had previously been taken, for we
had yet to go four leagues, a distance sufficient to
terrify the persons who had ascended Mont Martre.

The monastery was in a valley, enclosed on the west
side by a mountain, and on the east by a hill that was
not so high.

The eastern peak was crowned by a forest of im-
mense pines. The valley was one vast prairie, and
the beech grows much like the arrangements of an
English garden.

We came about evenfall, and were received by the
cellarer who had a nose very rich—like an obelisk.

“ Gentlemen,” said he, “‘ our abbe will be glad when
he hears you have come. He is yet in bed; but come
with me, and you will see whether we have expected
you or not.”

We followed him, and besought him to take us to
the refectory.

Amid the display of the table arose a paté like a
VARIETIES. 341

cathedral; on one side was a quarter of cold veal,
artichokes, etc., were also on the eastern range.

There were various kinds of fruits, napkins, knives
and plate ; at the foot of the table were many attentive
servants.

At one corner of the refrectory was seen more than
an hundred bottles, kept cool by a natural fountain.
We could snuff the aroma of mocha, though in those
venerable days none ever drank mocha so early in
the morning.

The reverend cellarer for a time laughed at our
emotion, and then spoke to us as follows:

‘¢ Gentlemen,”’ said he, I “ would be pleased to keep
you company, but as yet I have not kept my mass. I
ought to ask you to drink, but the mountain air dis-
penses the necessity. Receive, then, what we offer you.
I must to matins.”’

He went to matins.

We did our best to eat up the abbé’s dinner, but
could not. People from Sirius might, but it was too
much for us.

After dinner we dispersed. I crept into a good bed
until mass ; like the heroes of Rocroy, who slept until
the battle began.

I was aroused by a great fat friar, who had nearly
pulled my arm out of its socket, and went to the
church where I found all at their posts.

We played a symphony at the offertory and sung a

29 * .
342 VARIETIES.

motet at the elevation, concluding with four wind
instruments.

We contrived, in spite of the jests usually expended
on amateurs, to get out of the difficulty very well.

We received with great benignity the praises heaped
on us, and having received the abbot’s thanks went to
the table.

The dinner was such as people used to eat in the
fifteenth century. There were few superfluities, but
the choice of dishes was admirable. We had plain,
honest, substantial stews, good meats, and dishes of
vegetables, which made one regret they were not more
general.

The dessert was the more remarkable, as it was
composed of fruits not produced at that altitude. The
gardens of Machuras, of Morflent and other places
had contributed.

There was no want of liqueurs, but coffee needs a
particular reference.

It was clear, perfumed and strong, but was not
served in what are called tasses on the Seine, but in
huge bowls, into which the monks dipped their lips
and smacked them with delight.

After dinner we went to vespers, and between the
psalms executed antiphones I prepared for the pur-
pose. That style of music was then fashionable. I
cannot say if mine was good or bad.

Our day being over, my orchestra was enabled to
look and walk around. On my return the abbe said,
VARIETIES. 343

“Tam about to leave you, and will suffer you to finish
the night. Ido not think my presence at 4ll impor-
tunate to the fathers; but I wish them to do as they
please.”

When the abbot had left, the monks drew more
closely together, and a thousand jokes were told, not
the less funny because the world knows nothing of
them.

About nine a glorious supper was served, long in
advance of the dinner.

They laughed, sang, told stories, and one of the
fathers recited some very good verses he had himself
composed.

At last a monk arose, and said, ‘‘ Father Cellarer,
what have you to say?”

“True,’”’ said the father, ““Iam not cellarer for
nothing.”

He left, and soon returned with three servtors, the
first of whom brought some glorious fresh buttered
toast. The others had a table on which was a sweet-
ened preparation of brandy and water—vu/go, punch.

The new comers were received with acclamation ;
the company ate the toasts, drank the toddy, and
when the abbey clock struck twelve, all went to their
cells to enjoy a repose they had richly earned.

PROSPERITY EN ROUTE.
One day I rode a horse I called Ja Joie through the
Jura.
844 VARIETIES.

It was at the worst era of the revolution, and
I went to see Mr. Prot to obtain a passport which,
probably, might save me from prison or the scaf-
fold.

At about 11 P. M., I reached a little bourg or vil-
lage called Mont St. Vaudrey, and having first at-
tended to my horse, was struck by a spectacle no
traveller ever saw without delight.

Before a fire was a spit covered with cock quails
and the rails that are always so fat. All the juice
from the quails fell on an immense réte so built up
that the huntsman’s hand was apparent. Then came
one of those leverets, the perfume of which Parisians
have no faith in though they fill the room.

“Ah ha!” said I; “Providence has not entirely
deserted me. Let us scent this perfume and die
afterwards.”

Speaking to the landlord who, while I was making
my examinations, walked up and down the room, I
said, “ Mon cher, what can you give us for dinner ?”

‘* Nothing very good, Monsieur. You can have
potatoes. The beans are awful. I never had a worse
dinner.”

The landlord seemed to suspect the cause of my
disappointment. I said, however, “for whom is all
this game kept ?”

‘Alas, Monsieur,’
belongs to some lawyers and judges who have been

2

said he, “it is not mine but

here several days on a business which concerns a very
VARIETIES. 345

rich old lady. They finished yesterday, and wish to
celebrate the event by a revolt.”

“Monsieur,” said I, “ be pleased to say that a gentle-
man asks the favor of being permitted to dine with
them, that he will pay his portion of the expense, and
also be much obliged to them.”

He left me and did not return, but after a few min-
utes a little fat man entered, who hovered around the
kitchen, lifted up the covers and disappeared.

“Ah, ha!” said I. The tiler has come to look at me.
I began to hope, for I knew my appearance was not
repulsive. My heart beat quickly as a candidate’s
does after the ballot-box is opened, and before he
knows the result, when the landlord told me the gentle-
men only waited for me to sit down.

I went at once, and was received in the most flatter-
ing manner.

The dinner was glorious, I will not describe it, but
only refer to an admirable fricassée of chicken not
often seen in such perfection in the country. It had
so many truffles that it would have revived an old
Titan.

We sang, danced, etc., and passed the evening pleas-
antly.

[The translator here omits half a dozen songs,
which are essentially French, and which no one can
do justice to in another tongue. |
346 VARIETIES.

He... s DE Pes

I believe I am the first person who ever conceived
the idea of a gastronomical academy. I am afraid,
however, I was a little in advance of the day, as peo-
ple may judge by what took place fifteen years after-
wards.

The President, H. de P., the ideas of whom braved
every age and era, speaking to three of the most en-
lightened men of his age, (Laplace, Chaptal, and
Berthollet,) said, “‘I look in the history of the dis-
covery of anew dish, which prolongs our pleasures, as
far more important than the discovery of a new star.”

I shall never think science sufficiently honored
until I see a cook in the first class of the institute.

The good old President was always delighted when
he thought of his labor. He always wished to fur-
nish me an epigraph, not like that which made Mon-
tesquieu a member of the academy. I therefore,
wrote several verses about it, but to be copied.

Dans ses doctes travaux il fut infatigable ;

Il eut de grands emplois, qu’il remplit dignement:
Et quoiqu’il fut profond, érudit et savant,

Il ne se crut jamais dispensé d’étre aimable,
VARIETIES. 347

CONCLUSION.
My work is now done, yet I am not a bit out of
breath.
I could give my readers countless stories, but all is
now over, and as my book is for all time, those who

will read it now will know nothing of those for whom
I write.

Let the Professor here end his work.

THE END.
LINDSAY & BLAKISTON PUBLISH

CHARACTERISTICS OF LITERATURE,
ILLUSTRATED BY THE GENIUS OF DISTINGUISHED MEN,

BY
HENRY F. TUOKERMAN,

AUTHOR OF ‘‘'THCUGHTS ON THE POETS,” ‘‘ ARTIST LIFE,”

ETC.
A neat 12mo. volume,

 

CONTENTS.

The Philosopher. .....esssecesseveseeseeeeeeesSir Thomas Browne.
The Dilettante..... -Shenstone.

 
 
 
 
   
   
 
 
 
 

 

The Moralist..... oe William Ellery Channing.
The Wit....... ..+ --Dean Swift.

The Philanthropist...... ei sie ainiereisis «- William Roscoe.

The Humorist ........- ee o --Charles Lamb.

The Historian .....-..... .-T. Babington Macaulay.
The Idealist ......... sieteie «John Sterling.

The Rhetorician .......+. Edmund Burke.
The Scholar........ Mark Akenside.
The Biographer .......e+eeeeeeeeeeeeeeseeeeesFinal Memorials of Lamb and Keats.

 

This forms, for the traveller, the sojourner at a watering-place, or in the
country, an agreeable volume for summer reading. It is of a higher order ol
merit than the light literature of the day, while it is less diffuse than works
of a more standard character; it will be found both instructive and enter-
taining.

 

 

OPINIONS OF THE PRESS.

He has happily chosen Sir Thomas Browne as the representative of the
Philosopher; Channing, of the Moralist; Roscoe, of the Philanthropist ;
Lamb, of the Humorist; Macaulay, of the Historian, &c. A glance at its
pages, and a knowledge of the author, assures us that it will be admitted as
one of the happiest works that has proceeded from his pen—discriminating
with distinctions, with the accessary illustrations of a man of taste and tra-
vels.—Literary World.

The idea is a happy one, that of delineating the various forms of literary
eharacter, by selecting some single specimen from each class, and analysin
its peculiarities. ‘T'he execution is distinguished by the good sense and goo
taste which mark most of Mr. Tuckerman’s criticisms.—Evening Post.

Mr. Tuckerman never attempts anything that he does not thoroughly per-
form. Equally successful, both in prose and verse, in this volume he has
thrown the graceful charm of his polished diction around the characters he
has selected for analysis. No one can take up the book without being de-
lighted at every step of their progress.—Boston Atlas.

Those who like to think as they read, will find much pleasure in this de-
lightful volume.—Baltzmore American.

For a companion under a tree, in the present season, we could commend
few books as confidently as ‘‘ The Characteristics of Literature,’’ by Tucker-
man—a gentle-thoughted, discriminating, tasteful series of analytical portraits
of distinguished men.—Home Journal.

Those who like to think as they read, will find much pleasure in this ana-
lytical volume.—American.

He has given us a very entertaining volume. that cannot fail to be panular

Transcript.
LINDSAY & BLAKISTON PUBLISH

WATSON’S
DICTIONARY OF POETICAL QUOTATIONS

CONSISTING OF

ELEGANT EXTRACTS ON EVERY SUBJECT,

NOMPILED FROM VARIOUS AUTHORS, AND ARRANGED UND78
APPROPRIATE HEADS,

BY JOHN T. WATSON, M. D.,

WITH
NINE SPLENDID ILLUSTRATIONS ON STEEL,
INCLUDING
The Noontide Dream, The Village Tomb-Cutter,
Contemplation, The Parting Wreath,
Modesty, Bereavement,
The Thunder-Storm, The Bashful Lover,

Love and Innocence.

 

 

OPINIONS OF THE PRESS.

We may safely recommend this book as a collection of some of the most beautiful conceptiona
elegantly expressed, to be found in the range of English and American poetry.—Saturday Courier

 

 

We regard this as the best book of a similar character yet published.—Germantown Telegraph

 

In this Dictionary of Quotations every subject is touched upon and, while the selection has been
sarefully made, it has the merit of containing the best thoughts of the Poets of our own day, which
uo other collection has.—-U. S. Gazette.

‘The selections in this book are made with taste from all poets of note, and are classed under +
eteat variely of subjects.—Presbylerian.

 

The Quotations appear to have been selected with great judgment and taste, by one well acquainted
woh whatever is most elegant end beautiful in the whole range of literature-—Christzan Observer.

 

 

A volume exhibiting industry and taste on the part of the compiler, which will often facilitate re
‘arches in the mines of gold whence it was dug.—Maysville Eagle.

 

 

In his arrangement, the compiler has assigned the immortal Shakspeare his deserved pre-emizence,
end illumined his pages with the choicest beauties of the British Poets.—Herald.

We do not hesitate to commend it to our poetry-loving readers, as a book worth buying, and worth
teading.—Clinton Republican.

 

 

‘The extracts display great care and taste on the part of the editor, are arranged in chronologiza
irder, and embrace passages from all the poets, from the earliest perio¢ of our literature to the pre:
ed, time.— State Gazetle.

This book will be read with interest, as containing the best thoughts of the best poets, and is con-

senier t for reference, because furnishing appropriate quotations to illustrate a vast variety of subjects.
—Old Colony Memorial.

We view it as a casket filled with the most. precious gems of learning and fancy, and so arran bs
ar to /ascinate, al a glame, the delicate eye of taste. By referrmg to the index, which is arrange
alphabetical order, yuu can find, in a moment, the best rdeas uf the most inspired poets of this eounteyt
as well as Eur %e, uron any desired subject. — Chronicle.
LINDSAY & BLAKISTON
PUBLISH THE

AMERICAN FEMALE POETS
BIOGRAPHICAL AND CRITICAL NOTICES,

CAROLINE MAY.
AN ELEGANT VOLUME, WITH A HANDSOME VIGNETTE TITLE,
AND
PORTRAIT OF MRS, 0SGO00D,
The Literary contents of this work contain copious selections fron
the writings of
Anne Bradstreet, Jane Turell, Anne Eliza Bleecker, Margaretta
V. Faugeres, Phillis Wheatley, Mercy Warren, Sarah Porter,
Sarah Wentworth Morton, Mrs. Little, Maria A. Brooks,
Lydia Huntley Sigourney, Anna Maria Wells, Caroline Gil=
man, Sarah Josepha Hale, Maria Jzmes, Jessie G. MCartec,
Mrs. Gray, Eliza Follen, Louisa Jane Hall, Mrs. Swift,
Mrs. E. C. Kinney, Marguerite St. Leon Loud, Luella J.
Case, Elizabeth Bogart, A. D- Woodbridge, Elizabeth
Margaret Chandler, Emma C. Embury, Sarah Helena
Whitmen, Cynthia Taggart, Elizabeth J. Eames,
&e &&, Ke
The whole forming a beautiful specimen of the highly cultivated state of
the arts in the United States, as regards the paper, topography,
and binding in rich and various styles.

EXTRACTS FROM THE PREFACE.

One of the most striking characteristics of the present age
athe number of female writers, especially in the department
-£ belles-lettres. This is even more true of the United
States, than of the old world; and poetry, which is the lan-
guage of the affections, has been freely employed among us
to express the emotions of woman’s heart.

 

As the rare exotic, costly because of the distance from
which it is brought, will often suffer in comparison of beauty
and fragrance with the abundant wild flowers of our mea-
dows and woodland slopes, so the reader of our present
volume, if ruled by an honest taste, will discover in the effu-
sions of our gifted countrywomen as much grace of form,
and powerful sweetness of thought and feeling, as in the
blossoms of woman’s genius culled from other lands.
LINDSAY & BLAKISTON
PUBLISH THE

BRITISH FEMALE POETS:

WITH

BIOGRAPHICAL AND CRITICAL NOTICES,
BY

GEO. W. BETHUNE.

aN ELEGANT VOLUME, WITH A HANDSOME VIGNETTE TITLE,
AND

PORTRAIT OF THE HON, MRS, NORTON,

The Literary contents of this work contain copious selections from
the writings of
Anne Boleyn, Countess of Arundel, Queen Elizabeth, Duchess of
Newcastle, Elizabeth Carter, Mrs. Tighe, Miss Hannah Morey
Mrs. Hemans, Lady Flora Hastings, Mrse Amelia Opie, Miss
Eliza Cook, Mrs. Southey, Miss Lowe, Mrs. Norton, Elizabeth
B. Barrett, Catharine Parr, Mary Queen of Scots, Countess
of Pembroke, Lady Mary Wortley Montague, Mrs. Gre=
ville, Mrs. Barbauld, Joanna Baillie, Letitia Elizabeth
Landon, Charlotte Elizabeth, Mary Russell Mitford,
Mrs. Coleridge, Mary Howitt, Frances Kemble Butler,
Sco Kee KCe
Lhe whole forming a beautiful specimen of the highly cultivated state of
the arts in the United States, as regards the paper, typography,
and binding in rich and various styles.

 

OPINIONS OF THE PRESS.

In the department of English poetry, we have long looked for a spirit cast in nature’s finest, yet
most elevated mould, possessed of the most delicate and exquisite taste, the keenest perception
of the innate true and beautiful in poetry, as opposed to their opposites, who could give to us 8
pure collection of the British Female Poets; many of them among the choicest spirits that ever

aced and adorned humanity. The object of our search, in this distinct and important mission,
is Lefore us; and we acknowledge at once in Dr. Bethune, the gifted poet, the eloquent divine
and the humble Christian, one who combines, in an eminent degree, all the characteristics above
alluded to. It raises the mind loftier, and makes it purified with the soul, to float in an atmosphere
of spiritual purity, to peruse the elegant volume before us, chaste, rich, and beautiful, without and
within.— The Spectator

We do not remember to have seen any previous attempt to form a poetical bouquet exclusively
from gardens planted by female hands, and made fragrant and beautiful by woman's gentle culture.
We know few men equally qualified with the gifted Editor of this volume for the tasteful end
sudivious selection and adjustment of the various flowers that are to delight with their sweetness,
soothe with their softness, and impart profit with their sentiment. The volume is enriched with
Biograpnical Sketcnes of some sixty poetesses, each sketch being followed with specimens charac-
teristic of her style and powers of verse. In beauty of typography, and general getting up, this
velume is quite equal to the best issues of its tasteful and enterprising publishers.— Episcopal Recorder.

 

 

It is handsomely embellished, and may be described as a casket of gems. Dr. Bethune, who ia
nimself a poet of no mean genius, has in this volume exhibited the most refined taste. The work
tany be regarded as a treasury of nearly all the best pieces of British Female Poets.—Inguirer.

 

 

This volume, which is far more suited for a holyday gift than many which are prepared express]:
for the purpose, contains extracts from all the most distinguished English Female Poets, select
witn tLe taste and judgment which we have a right to expect from the eminent divine and highly
gilled poet whose name adorns the title page. 1t is a rare collection of the richest gems.—Baltt-
wore American.

 

 

Dr. Bethune has selected his matenals with exquisite taste, culling the fairest and sweetest
fowers from the extensive field cultivated by the British Female Poets. The brief Biographical
Notices add much interest to the volume, and vastly increase its value. It is pleasant to find hard-
working and close-thimking divines thus recreating theirselves, and contributing by their recrea-
ions to the refinement of the age. Dr. Bethune has brought to his task poetic enthusiaam, asd s
eady perception of the pure and beaut:ful —N. Y. Commercial. °
Le E

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