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. THE ’ 
 
 ~ YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER 
 
 OR ® 
 
 ° THOUGHTS ON FOOD AND COOKERY. 
 
 4 BY WM. A. ALCOTT, 
 
 Author of the Young Wife, Young Mother, House I Live In, and 
 Young Man’s Guide, and Editor of the Library of Health. 
 
 Pe 
 
 Pourth Stereotype Lodition. 
 
 
 
 BOSTON: 7) 
 GEORGE W. LIGHT, 1 CORNHILL. 
 1838. 
 
Pir 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Entered according to act of Congress, in the year 1838, by Wm. A. 
 AtvcoTtT, in the Clerk’s Offige of the District Court of Massa- 
 ehusetts. " c * P 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. DIGNITY OF THE HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 Silent influence of the house-keeper. Her character as 
 
 S a teacher and educator. Should the mother be the 
 
 house-keeper ? Vulgar notions. Anecdote. Dignity 
 
 of the house-keeper asserted. She is, in some respects, 
 
 a legislator—a counsellor—a minister—a missionary— 
 areformer—a physician. . . . ..... . 21-48 
 
 CHAPTER II. FIRST PRINCIPLES. 
 
 1. Obey the dictates of conscience. 2. Dare to disobey- 
 the mandates of fashion. 3. Dignify your profession. 
 4. Keep the house yourself, as much as possible. 5. 
 Whatever is worth doing, is worth doing well. 6. 
 Importance of securing the aid of the husband and 
 others. 7. Anecdote and reflections. . . . . 49—60 
 
 CHAPTER Ill. HAVING A PLAN. 
 
 Why a plan is indispensable. Hour of rising (Ue 
 rangements. Breakfast. Particular advantages. Mrs. 
 Parkes’s opinion: Time gained, how to be employed. 61—-70 
 
6 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. KEEPING ACCOUNTS. 
 
 Every housewife should keep her own accounts. Defi- 
 ciency in female instruction. Method of keeping an 
 account. Advantages. : 71—74 
 
 CHAPTER V. KEEPING A JOURNAL. 
 
 General importance of keeping a journal. Qualifications. 
 Method should be simple. Materials of the journal. 
 A difficulty—how overcome. Reflections. . . 75—78 
 
 CHAPTER VI. NATURE OF FOOD IN GENERAL. 
 
 In what sense man is omnivorous. Man a free agent. 
 Animal food. Nutritious character of food. Table of 
 nutritious substances. Second table, from the French. 
 Inferences from these tables. Proofs of the inferior 
 nutritive powers of lean meat. Three great divisions 
 of aliments. ‘The grand object of all food. . . 79—90 
 
 CHAPTER VI. FARINACEOUS FOOD. 
 
 Primary aliments. Secondary aliments. Substitutes. 
 The following part of the work a vocabulary. Gen- 
 eral plan. Its contents. . . ... .. . . 91-94 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. FOOD FROM WHEAT. 
 
 Remarks on Wheat in general. Bread. Why wheat 
 should not be bolted. Unfermented cakes. Loaf 
 
 d. Mixed bread. Crackers, biscuit, &c. Bread 
 
 pudding. Boiled wheat. Toast, &c. Bread and 
 
 milk. Bread and butter. Pastry. Gingerbread. Flour 
 
 puddings. Bread and fruits. Potatoe bread. . 95—116 
 
 
 
CONTENTS. 7 
 
 CHAPTER IX. INDIAN CORN, AND ITS COM- 
 POUNDS. 
 
 Qualities of Indian corn. Its excellence as food. Hulled 
 corn. Boiled corn. Hommony. Indian cakes—eaten 
 cool. Warmcakes. arched corn. Boiled pudding. 
 Brown bread. Baked pudding. Hasty pudding. 
 Loaf bread. Dumplings. Meat bread. Gruel. Green 
 corm. Folenta. ..... 2 ie = a ahd LOO 
 
 CHAPTER X. FOOD FROM RYE. 
 
 Extensive use of rye. Brownbread. Rye bread. Mixed 
 bread. Biscuit, &c. Unleavened cakes. Ginger- 
 bread. Puddings. Gruel. . . . . . . . 137—142 
 
 CHAPTER XI. RICE. 
 
 Rice extensively used. Mistaken notion of its producing 
 costiveness and blindness. Boiled rice. Baked rice. 
 Rice bread. Rice and milk... .. '.. . . 143—148 
 
 CHAPTER XII. BARLEY AND OATS. 
 
 Barley much used in Europe. Its properties, Mixed 
 bread. Pearl barley. Oats.. . . . . . . 149—150 
 
 CHAPTER XII. THE POTATOE. 
 
 Importance of the potajoe as an article of diet. Modes 
 of cooking it—boiling, baking, steaming and roasting. 
 Bad boiling. Examples of a better mode. Cooking a 
 potatoe well, seldom understood. The “civic cro 
 Mashed potatoes. Potatoe bread. Potatoes and milk. 
 Potatoe soup. “Hash.” Fried potatoes. The potatoe 
 sometimes poisonous. . , . . . . «+ « 1651—162_ 
 
 
 
8 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. BEANS AND PEAS. 
 
 Beans and peas produce flatulency. Why. How they 
 should be cooked and used. Green peas and beans. 
 Their pods. Bread of peas and beans. Puddings. 
 Pea soup. Bean porridge. . . . «. . . . 163—168 
 
 CHAPTER XV. BUCKWHEAT AND MILLET. 
 
 Buckwheat pancakes. In Germany, used for bread, 
 puddings, &c. Hulled buckwheat. Anecdote of Peter 
 the Great. Buckwheat bread in Boston. Millet. 169—170 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. BEET, CARROT AND PARSNIP. 
 
 Richness of the beet. Boiling, steaming, baking and 
 roasting it. Pickled beets. Medicinal properties. 
 Nature of the carrot. Fit only for strong, healthy 
 stomachs. Seasoning it. Does it prevent intestinal 
 worms? Medicinal effects. The parsnip. How kept. 
 Should it be eaten young? . . . .. . . I71—I174 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. THE TURNIP. 
 
 Character of the turnip. Use made of it by the Romans. 
 Mashing ite") 00 SS. Oe Se 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. THE ONION AND RADISH. 
 
 Dr. Paris’s opinion. Modes of cooking the onion. How 
 to preserve it. Radishes. Objections to their use. 177—178 
 
 ca XIX. THE SQUASH, PUMPKIN AND 
 TOMATO. 
 
 The squash. Boiled. Made into pies. The pumpkin., 
 Pies: The tomato... . . . . «41. « » 179-180 
 
4 
 
 CONTENTS, 9 
 
 CHAPTER XX. CABBAGE, LETTUCE, &c. 
 
 Cabbage of little value. How best adapted to use. 
 Boiled. Raw. Sour crout. Eaten with ham and 
 chesnuts. Lettuce. Anecdote of Galen, Greens 
 Bue Ccrery. fs i, ks VK Si ye MOT. £18184 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. ARROW-ROOT, TAPIOCA, &c. 
 
 Nutritive properties of arrow-root. Made into jelly. 
 Eaten with rice. Sago. Mushrooms. . . . 185—186 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. ON FRUITS IN GENERAL. 
 
 Second grand division of aliments. Principles inter- 
 spersed. Apology for the order and arrangement. 187—188 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. THE APPLE. 
 
 The apple one of the Creator’s noblest gifts. Varieties 
 of this fruit. Little used for food. The apple very 
 nutritious. Sweet apples. Rules for selecting the 
 apple. Raw apples best. Baked apples. Why apples 
 sometimes “disagree.” Five rules for learning to use 
 apples as food. Apples for breakfast. Accompani- 
 ments. Boiling apples. Apple sauce. Danger of 
 putting it in home-made earthen vessels. Stewing 
 apples. Baking and roasting. Baked apples and milk. 
 Apple dumplings. Puddings. Bird’s nest puddings. 
 Fried apples. Preserves. Mince pies. Improved 
 
 mince pies. Other preparations of apples. Apple 
 bread. All apples should be perfect. Never cook 
 green apples. . . . Betis wrod wrode of «9880p 7206 
 
10 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. THE PEAR. 
 
 Quality of pears. Bad ones. Baking and roasting pears. 
 Cautions in preserving them. Forcing maturity. 
 Mealy pears. Cultivation of the pear.. Stewing. 
 Drying. .Pearjam.. . + » » » » + + ,wuemieeelO 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. THE PEACH, APRICOT AND 
 NECTARINE. | 
 
 Stone fruits in general. Nature of the peach. Cooking 
 it. Drying. The apricot and nectarine. . . 24I—212 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. THE STRAWBERRY, | 
 
 Prejudice against fruits—how unreasonable. Fruits a 
 preventive of disease. Green fruits injurious. Market 
 fruits very imperfect. Cultivating the strawberry. 
 General laws of summer fruits. Strawberries for 
 breakfast. Eaten alone. Eaten with wine, sugar, 
 milk, &c. Strawberries and bread. Used for lun- 
 cheon. Preventive of gravel and other diseases. 213—226 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. THE RASPBERRY, 
 
 Medicinal character of the raspberry. Its varieties. 
 Every family should cultivate it, as they should the 
 strawberry. Difficulties. How overcome. Female 
 
 labor (OS BOLE: SOS aL ee ene Se 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIIL THE BLACKBERRY. 
 
 The best variety of this fruit. Raising it ourselves. The 
 dewberry. Prejudice against the high blackberry. 
 Anecdote to show how unfounded it is. Abuses of the 
 
 blackberry. ee. sr 
 
CONTENTS. 11 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. THE WHORTLEBERRY. 
 
 An erzor. The whortleberry with milk. Not improved 
 by cookery Varieties of this fruit. . . . . 239—240 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. THE GOOSEBERRY, CURRANT 
 AND GRAPE. 
 
 Character of the gooseberry. When useful. The currant. 
 Used unripe. The grape. What varieties useful. 241—244 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. THE CHERRY. 
 
 Proper selection of cherries. Swallowing the stones. 
 Its evils. Drinking wine or spirits with cherries. 
 No cooking into pies, puddings, &c., admissible. 
 Varieties of the cherry. It should be eaten in the 
 We re et ee et se le we aus 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. THE PLUM. 
 
 The plum indigestible. It should be eaten alone. The 
 WR eng Nie geo ak lw) bl othe) « produ amare eOe 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. THE MELON. 
 
 The muskmelon. Hot bed cultivation. The water- 
 melon. How sometimes raised. .. . . . 255—256 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. THE CUCUMBER. 
 
 Evils of the cucumber overrated. Ripe cucumbers. 
 Not:very nutritious. (. . 5. 1. we. . 257-258 
 
12 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. THE FIG AND RAISIN. 
 
 The fig extensively used for food. Fresh figs. Dried _ 
 figs. Figs and bread. The raisin. . . . . 259—260 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI. NUTS. 
 
 The chesnut much used by the ancients. Boiled ches- 
 nuts. How used now in Europe. Used for bread. 261—264 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII. ANIMAL FOOD. 
 
 Where animal food is admissible. Should be used, if 
 _ used at all, principally as a condiment. What animals 
 have been eaten. Arrangement of the subject. 265—266 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIII. MILK. 
 
 What the circumstances are in which milk is admissible. 
 Milk for infants. Milk for diseased persons. Use of 
 it by the Arabs. Milk a cheap food. Healthy milk. 
 Milk poured on bread. Milk toast. . . . . 267—272 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX. BUTTER. 
 
 Butter on bread. ‘Made”’ dishes. Butter-eating car- 
 ried to the highest excess. The real evils of eating 
 butters; .off . kmitevitlos Sod Self .mecageieeere 
 
 CHAPTER XL. CHEESE. 
 
 General properties of cheese. Good cheese. Bad cheese. 
 Cheese sometimes poisonous. Anatto. Arsenic. 
 Grand objection to cheese. New and old cheese 
 Sommpared. (4.04.5. LO . 275—276 
 
CONTENTS. 13 
 CHAPTER XLI.. EGGS. 
 
 How eggs should be cooked. Rarely boiled. Poached. 
 Artificial or “‘ made” dishes. Fresh eggs. How to 
 preserve eggs. Egg cider. Eggsand wine. , 277—282 
 
 CHAPTER XLII. FLESH AND FISH. 
 
 General remarks. Simplicity in diet. Best kinds of 
 flesh. Wildanimals. Fattened animals. Salted meat. 
 Smoked meat. Meat pies. Boiling. Broiling. Bak- 
 ing. Frying. Fish. Animal food sometimes poison- 
 Otisitipe hell fish) eri 6 pe: wwii Bliped eye Ueno.) BOUT RES 
 
 CHAPTER XLII. SUMMARY OF LEADING PRIN- 
 CIPLES. 
 
 Simplicity in diet. Penalties of neglecting it. Impor- 
 tance of mastication. Temperature of food should be 
 low. Why it should be so. Why purely nutritious 
 substances should not be used. Why solid food is 
 preferable to liquid. Drinks in general. Our meals 
 should be regular. Proper hours of eating. Number 
 of meals a day. Rules for the proper combination of 
 several articles of food at a meal. Regard to the 
 season of the year, hour of the day, and time of 
 the week. Regard to our employment. Regard to 
 Ce i ee s' e we. 8) 5 | el — Oe 
 
 CHAPTER XLIV. COOKERY, AS IT IS. 
 
 Present object of Cookery. What its object should be. 
 Example of abuse. Error of eating hot food. Con- 
 diments and accompaniments of food. Another ex- 
 
14 CONTENTS. 
 
 ample of abuse in cookery. Another, still. Objections 
 
 to cool food answered. A laughable sight. Gustatory 
 pleasure perfectly lawful. Who best secure it. A 
 great but common mistake. Losses sustained by those 
 
 who have fashionable appetites. An anécdote of a — 
 country table. Usual views and feelings of house- 
 ‘keepers about plain meals. “Trimmings” of our 
 meals. Woman too much a slave to fashion. Cooking 
 
 not her main object. What she should glory in, if she 
 glories at-all.::.0{.. toi. 93 velodo et <a BO SIN 
 
 CHAPTER XLV. COOKERY, AS IT SHOULD BE. 
 
 “ Pulling down ”’ and building up.. Popular complaints 
 against dietetic writers. Examples of telling what 
 people should do. Boiling corn. Why cool food is 
 better than hot. Objections to cooking in large quan- 
 tities at once. Directions on the subject. Rice, beans 
 and peas. Potatoes. Cooking economically. Em- 
 ploying children in domestic concerns. Its advan- 
 tages. Intentions of Providence in this matter. Ob- 
 Jections considered. Why daughters hate domestic 
 concerns. Proposed remedy. Oral instruction by 
 mothers who are house-keepers. Modified plans. Ra- 
 tional cooking a simple and easy concern. Three 
 fourths of the time now spent in it wasted. . . 319—340 
 
 CHAPTER XLVI. ECONOMY OF TIME, BY A 
 REFORMATION IN COOKERY. 
 Estimates of labor. Table. Results of the estimates. 
 Facts. Difficulties—some of them removed. Three 
 
 fourths of female labor in cooking might be saved. 
 Anecdotes to illustrate the subject. . . . . 341—350 
 
CONTENTS. 15 
 
 CHAPTER XLVII. EXPENSE OF ANIMAL AND 
 VEGETABLE FOOD COMPARED. 
 
 Table of comparisons. Results. Objections considered. 
 Examples to illustrate the subject. Another table of 
 comparison. Preservation of cooked vegetable food. 
 
 A third table. Fourth table. Reflections.. . 351—368 
 
 CHAPTER XLVIII. HOW TO BEGIN THE WORK 
 OF REFORMATION. 
 
 First principle. Sudden changes. First direction to in- 
 quirers. Difficulties in their way. These difficulties 
 illustrated. None need fear to do what is known to 
 be right. Anecdote. Supposed process of reform in 
 house-keeping. Remarks and reflections. . . 369—390 
 
 CHAPTER XLIX. RECIPES FOR PLAIN COOKING. 
 
 Various kinds of bread. Puddings. Cakes. Rice. Corn 
 and hommony. Porridge. Pies. Jellies, &c. Yeast. 
 Beans and peas. Potatoes. Various articles. . 391—424 
 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
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PREFACE. 
 
 WuHaTEVER views may be suggested by the 
 title, this book is really and truly a work on Physi- 
 cal Education. Like the “ Young Mother,” with 
 which the public are already familiarly acquainted, 
 it has for its principal end and aim, the physical 
 improvement of the community. It is intended 
 as a means of rendering house-keepers thinking 
 beings, and not as they have hitherto often been, 
 mere pieces of mechanism; or, what is little 
 better, the mere creatures of habit or slaves of 
 custom. 
 
 Though I have compared this work, as regards 
 its end and aim, to the “ Young Mother,” it is a 
 separate and entirely different volume. ‘That work 
 treats chiefly of the general physical management 
 of young children; but the “ Youne Hovusr- 
 
 KEEPER” is almost wholly confined to the nature 
 : 2 
 
18: PREFACE. 
 
 and preparation of food—The “ Young Wife,” 
 recently published, occupies another department 
 still. It is substantially an intellectual and moral 
 work ; and treats, for the most part, of the peculiar 
 duties of the wife to herself and her husband. 
 
 A large proportion of the books which have 
 been written professedly for house-keepers, are 
 little more than large bundles of recypes for fash- 
 ionable cookery. I know of no work in this 
 department which contains, to any considerable 
 extent, important principles, unless it be Mrs. 
 Parkes’ “ Domestic Duties ;” but this, along with 
 much that is valuable, embraces also a great deal 
 which is wholly mapplicable to the customs or to 
 the state of society in the United States. 
 
 A principal aim of the following treatise has 
 been, to elevate the important profession for whom 
 it is written, instead of sinking it below its present 
 unworthy level. I should be glad to convince the 
 most skeptical that house-keepimg is as much a 
 science, and in view of ‘its results in the formation 
 of human health and character, as deserving of 
 study—-and of hard study, too—as geography or 
 
 s 
 
 ; —~ % ig) . 
 mathematics. The duties and destinies of the 
 
 e4% > 
 
PREFACE. 19 
 
 house-keeper are too important to be misunder- 
 stood. ‘he elements of the nation, nay, of the 
 world itself, are prepared, to a very great extent, 
 in our nurseries, and around the domestic fireside. 
 
 Some may think—before they have read it— 
 that I have devoted too large a proportion of the 
 volume to food and cookery; as if the house- 
 keeper had little else to do but to study the 
 art of preparing food for her household. Yet I 
 believe I have devoted quite as much space to 
 other and collateral topics, as is usual with books 
 designed for the same class of persons. Besides, 
 I have not attempted to prepare a perfect work on 
 house-keeping. My object is, to speak on those 
 points of which I-have thought most, and which 
 appear to be most neglected by other writers 3 
 especially such as are very closely connected with 
 physical education. | 
 
 For the recipes of the last chapter, I am prin- 
 cipally indebted to judicious house-keepers in this 
 vicinity and elsewhere, with whom, so far as I 
 know, they originated. A few have, however, 
 been selected—though seldom without sorne modi- 
 
 fication or abridgment—from the best books I 
 
20 PREFACE. 
 
 could find on the subject. The collection, after 
 all, is not very large. Small as it is, however, 
 some may find it tedious. But it must be far less 
 so, I am sure, than works which are little else than 
 mere recipes—which, instead of one hundred or 
 one hundred and twenty, contain from one to two 
 thousand. 
 
 The work, however, whatever may be its. char- 
 acter or its tendency, is at length before the public. 
 I hope it will be serviceable. I hope it will prove 
 a timely contribution to the cause of human im- 
 provement—to the melioration, the elevation, the 
 
 restoration of fallen humanity. 
 
 Boston, May 1, 1838. 
 
THE 
 
 YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 DIGNITY OF THE HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 Silent influence of the house-keeper. Her character as a 
 teacher and educator. Should the mother be the house- 
 keeper? Vulgar notions. Anecdote. Dignity of the 
 house-keeper asserted. She is, in some respects, a legisla- 
 tor—a counsellor—a minister—a missionary—a reformer— 
 a physician. 
 
 Ir often happens that the most important results 
 in the natural world are brought about by causes 
 which operate silently, if not imperceptibly. Thus 
 the growth of vegetation, though effected in a 
 greater or less degree by the strong wind, the vio- 
 lent rain, and the heat and glare of the noonday 
 sun, is yet still more effectually promoted by the 
 mild action of the gentler breezes, the softly de- 
 scending dew, and the less intense heat. More 
 than this, even, is true. It is not so much by 
 means of the dew, properly so called, or even the 
 
pies THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 gentler breezes, or the more direct rays of the great 
 source of licht and heat, that the earth is rendered 
 fruitful, and fitted to be the abode of man and 
 beast, as by the motion of an atmosphere,- holding 
 constantly in solution a large quantity of water, in 
 the form of vapor, which the earth seems to imbibe, 
 and in a most wonderful manner work up into the 
 living forms of the animal and vegetable kingdom. 
 These living forms, too, often seem weakened and 
 debilitated rather than invigorated by the sun’s 
 more direct rays, during a few short hours of each 
 twenty-four ; while the silent working, night and 
 day, in sunshine and in shade, of that light and 
 heat of which the sun is supposed to be the ulti- 
 mate source, is indispensable—and is the means, 
 along with the effects of air and moisture, of ger- 
 mination, growth and progress. So in relation to 
 animal bodies, it is not that profuse perspiration 
 which we sometimes witness or experience, that 
 cleanses the system and promotes human health in 
 _ the highest degree; but that gentler perspiration 
 which is scarcely perceptible to the senses, but 
 which, so long as we are in tolerable health, 
 whether we are employed or unemployed, and 
 whether we wake or sleep, is steadily going on. 
 
 It is somewhat thus, in the formation of human 
 character. ‘Too much comparative importance has 
 ever been attached to our more direct, not to say 
 
DIGNITY OF THE HOUSE-KEEPER. 23 
 
 noisy efforts. to promote its growth. Not that these 
 are without their influence in the moral world, any 
 more than the violent rain and the strong breeze 
 are without influence in the physical; but an 
 undue importance has ever been attached to their 
 operation and eflicacy. Admit even that the pul- 
 pit, the bar, the legislative hall, the college, the 
 school and the press, have done all which has been 
 supposed. Admit their power, under an Almighty 
 Spirit, to regenerate, correct, reform, re-create, 
 develope, regulate and direct in every part of the 
 intellectual and moral world, were as great as their 
 most sanguine adherents have supposed. Would 
 it not be still true, that man is most developed, and 
 formed, and educated, by causes which, from their 
 silent operation, seem to be almost inoperative ? 
 Are not those the most effective educators and 
 teachers of man, after all, whose lessons teach him 
 as though they taught not? 
 
 If these views are correct—and that they are so 
 will not, it is presumed, be questioned—does it not 
 behoove us to pay more attention to these silent, 
 but therefore certain sources and springs of human 
 character? Have we nothing to do in the way 
 of elevating and purifying, if I may so express it, 
 the physical, the intellectual, the social, the moral 
 atmosphere in which a child lives, and moves, and 
 breathes, and grows, for .years before those more 
 
Q4 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 direct influences to which I have just alluded can 
 be applied ?) Have the temperature and the purity 
 of the air which a child inhales, fifty thousand 
 times in twenty-four hours, nothing to do in the 
 formation of his physical character—nothing to do 
 with the growth, health and strength of a body 
 nourished by the blood which this unceasing venti- 
 lating process is intended to regenerate and purify ? 
 Have the light or the darkness, the noise or the 
 quiet, the sweet tones or the discordant sounds, the 
 smiles or the frowns to which the young inhabitant 
 of our world is subjected, nothing to do with the for- 
 mation and growth of character? Have the quan- 
 tity, quality and condition of the food and the drink 
 which are introduced to a child’s stomach, and which, 
 when assimilated, course their way through every 
 part of the living machine twenty-five or thirty 
 thousand times every twenty-four hours, nothing to 
 do with character? Have the conversation and con- 
 duct of early associates nothing to do with forming 
 the character of a being so highly imitative? Have 
 not the actions, the words, the looks, the thoughts, 
 even—for little children will sometimes interpret 
 thought and feeling—of those who are so con- 
 stantly about us as our parents, but especially the 
 mother and the house-keeper, a prodigious influence 
 in determining whether we shall be selfish or gen- 
 erous, self-governing or given up to the control 
 
DIGNITY OF THE HOUSE-KEEPER. 25 
 
 of our passions, temperate or intemperate, sensual 
 or pure, earthly or spiritual ? 
 
 These, then, it is believed, are some of the gen- 
 tler influences—the teachers that seem to teach 
 not—which, like the soft dews of the morning and 
 the evening, and the still more efficient moisture 
 imbibed from the atmosphere, produce, by their 
 never ceasing operation, the most important results. 
 Mothers and teachers, says Dr. Rush, sow the 
 seeds of nearly all the good and evil in our world. 
 Teachers, he might have said, do this ; since man 
 is everywhere, in no small degree, what he is, by 
 education—and since all persons and things become 
 our teachers, and serve to draw forth, develope, or 
 form us. Orbe might have said, with nearly equal 
 truth, that mothers do the work ; since, if the doc- 
 trines of the foregoing paragraphs are true, mothers 
 must be, from their very position, the most efficient 
 teachers. Not that they always do the work well ; 
 this is quite another matter. But teach us they 
 must—educate us they must—whether their in- 
 struction and education be good, bad or indifferent. 
 
 They educate us not only intellectually and 
 morally, but physically. It is mothers who operate 
 on our whole nature. Other educators, as the 
 world now is, seldom reach the physical man. 
 This whole field, or nearly the whole of it, is left 
 to the sole direction and disposal of the mother 
 
26. THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. | 
 
 and house-keeper. How important, then, is_ma- 
 ternal influence! How important that mothers 
 should understand this subject! How important 
 that they should not only know, but also feel! 
 How poorly fitted to sustain the maternal office is 
 she who neither knows its dignity, nor feels nor 
 heeds its responsibilities! And who that has any 
 sense of the incompetency of modern female edu- 
 cation, and is aware that scarcely one in a thousand 
 is trained either to know or feel the greatness of 
 her prerogative, the dignity of her character, or the 
 weight and solemnity of her responsibilities, will 
 not do with all his might what his hands find to 
 do, to change the aspect and tendency of that 
 education, and to render woman, and the sphere in 
 which she moves, properly understood and appre- 
 ciated, especially by herself? 
 
 I take the ground that the most efficient school 
 of education is the domestic or family school ; and 
 that the morHer, whether wise or ignorant, learned 
 or unlearned, healthy or sick, pious or impious, is 
 the most efficient educator. Especially is. this 
 school the first and most important for female chil- 
 dren. I take it for granted, also, that a work 
 which shall assist the mother in the nght manage- 
 ment of her household, is a work on education ; even 
 if it be confined, as I intend this shall be, chiefly 
 to those maternal duties which bear upon the for- 
 
DIGNITY OF THE HOUSE-KEEPER. QF 
 
 mation of the physical character. I have “even, 
 confined my remarks, in this volume, chiefly to 
 what are commonly called household duties. . The 
 more direct efforts to form physical character have 
 been treated in another work ;* and the more direct 
 efforts, intellectual, moral and medical, I have re- 
 served for future consideration. In short, the duties 
 of the mother, as a house-keeper, have seemed to 
 me sufficient fora single volume-of reasonable size ; 
 and I have believed that when we consider that 
 the body is the house the soul lives in, and that 
 the soul takes its hue, as it were, from the charac- 
 ter and condition of the dwelling it occupies, we 
 shall not find that the importance of mere house- 
 keeping, in its bearing upon the formation of human 
 character, has ever been over-estimated, or its ten- 
 dencies on human happiness overrated. 
 
 Do I then confound the mother and the house- 
 keeper? Do I consider the terms as synonymous? 
 I certainly do, in the present work. For though 
 domestics or servants were admitted to a family, 
 the mother should still be the mainspring of all its 
 movements. If she does not perform all the labor 
 with her own hands, assisted by her busband and 
 children, she should at least direct others how to 
 do it. What she knows and believes and feels 
 
 _. * The * Young Mother.’ 
 
Q8. THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 would most promote the physical welfare of her 
 family, should be accomplished, whether it be by 
 her own hands or those of others. Am I not, 
 then, perfectly right, in using the terms mother and ° 
 house-keeper, for my present purpose, as synony- 
 mous ? 
 
 I would, however—for it would make the duties 
 of a house-keeper more simple, as well as more 
 efficient—that every mother could perform all the 
 duties of her family, without that aid which in 
 fashionable life is now quite common, and which 
 seems to involve the idea of a superior and an 
 inferior class of citizens. And I hope and trust 
 that I shall be able, in the progress of these pages, 
 to make it appear, that as a general rule—to which 
 of course there may be exceptions—every mother 
 can do this. 
 
 I use the terms mother and house-keeper in the 
 way I do, also, because, after all, they are, in a 
 vast majority of cases, the same thing. ‘The cus- 
 tom of keeping servants has not yet found its way 
 very far beyond the precincts of our cities, towns 
 and villages. If these pages should be read at all, 
 it will be chiefly by those who perform their own 
 household duties ; or at least by those who closely 
 oversee and direct. ‘Those who fancy themselves 
 excused, by their condition, from the performance 
 of both of these duties, will not be likely to take 
 
DIGNITY OF THE HOUSE-KEEPER. 29. 
 
 the trouble to read a work on house-keeping. They 
 will prefer to spend their hours in quite another 
 manner. Or if they read at all, it is likely to be 
 the fashionable nonsense of the day, and not that 
 which aims at utility, or public or private happi- 
 ness. 
 
 I am, indeed, acquainted with one house-keeper, 
 who, though sensible, intelligent, refined and be- 
 nevolent, fully believes the duties of a mother and 
 house-keeper to be totally incompatible with each 
 other. “The female who undertakes to fulfil her 
 duties,” she observes, “to her husband, her chil- 
 dren, and society around her, has already more in 
 hand than she can well perform. No matter how 
 small her family, so that it consists of husband and 
 children, and sustains the relations which a family 
 ought to sustain to other families ; its mistress, if 
 wise and conscientious, cannot otherwise than be 
 fully employed in the discharge of these duties 
 without the addition of more. Nota single spare 
 hour is left her for cooking, washing, mending, 
 chamber work, &c. ‘These last—some of them, 
 at least—may indeed be and often are done; but 
 they will forever be found to clash with the former— 
 and cannot, I am certain, ever be safely or usefully 
 performed by the same individual.” 
 
 Now it appears to me that this young house- 
 keeper has either made a very serious mistake— 
 
- 
 
 30 | THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. : 
 
 and she is not the only individual who inclines, 
 now-a-days, to the same opinion—or there must be 
 a mistake in the divine arrangement and economy. 
 The plan of the Creator most certainly does 
 require that these household duties should, as a 
 general rule, be performed by the mother. With- 
 out attempting, at this time and in this place, to 
 go deeply into the argument, I will simply state 
 my belief—satisfied if in the progress of what I 
 have to say in other parts of the volume, I shall be 
 so successful as to make it appear that my belief is 
 well founded—that there is not only no incom- 
 patibility in the case, but that common sense, 
 philosophy and christianity, actually demand the 
 performance of these varied duties by the same 
 individual. 
 
 The house-keeper to whom I have referred has, 
 however, disclosed to me the secret of her sceptr 
 cism. She modestly owns that she was not trained 
 to do house-work ; that her heart is not in it and 
 cannot:be; that she sorely dislikes the sight of a 
 kitchen, especially of everything that pertains to 
 the business of cookery ; and finally, she more 
 than intimates a determination to maintain and 
 cherish such opinions, views and feelings, through 
 life. | ee | 
 
 But there is an apology for such females in this 
 very fact, that they have been educated wrong. 
 
DIGNITY OF THE HOUSE-KEEPER. 31 
 
 They have not only been trained to the neglect 
 of household duties, and to the belief that they are 
 ‘quite beneath them, and properly belong to the 
 vulgar, but to the erroneous idea that they involve 
 a life of hardship, pain and drudgery. Whereas 
 the truth is, that there are no labors which taken 
 together are more easy or more healthful ; and, if 
 properly conducted, there are few which give more 
 freedom as well as more leisure for recreation and 
 study. — 
 
 Should the period arrive, in the history of our 
 world, when household management shall be re- 
 garded as indispensable to a correct female educa- 
 tion, and when no young lady shall any more 
 think of attaining to years of maturity without a 
 knowledge both of the theory and practice of 
 housewifery, than she does without a knowledge 
 of reading and writing, this unreasonable prejudice 
 against cookery, washing, mending, &c., which are 
 important parts of this employment, will cease to 
 exist ; and one powerful motive which now exists, 
 either concealed or avowed, for employing others, 
 or at least, for treating them as our inferiors, will 
 be almost entirely removed. Is it too much to 
 hope that such a period will sooner or later arrive? 
 Or is christianity destined to effect but a partial 
 reformation of humanity—and to obtain but half a 
 ‘triumph ? 
 
32 ' THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 ' ‘To meet the now growing’ belief that house- 
 keeping does not belong to the mother, necessarily— 
 that its details and duties are not only irksome and — 
 hateful in their nature, but absolutely incompatible - 
 with hers—and to show as clearly as_ possible that 
 they are not incompatible, but that the employ- 
 ment is much more simple, more pleasant, more 
 rational, and more useful than is sometimes sup- 
 posed, is at present a destderatum. It is with a 
 view to this end that I have made the attempt to 
 present, not merely the facts and principles of 
 housewifery, but its philosophy and its dignity. 
 And how much soever this whole matter is over- 
 looked by some, contemned by many, and regarded 
 as more or less a matter of hap-hazard by nearly 
 all, I am fully confident that if there be a profes- 
 sion or occupation, which is, in its nature, truly 
 dignified, and to which philosophy and philosophic 
 instruction are more necessary or more applicable 
 than to almost any other, it is to that of house- 
 keeping. It is, I repeat it, a science ; and though 
 its practice should be chiefly confined to the family 
 or maternal school, it should be recognized, at 
 least in theory, in all schools for females, from the 
 highest to the lowest—in Boston or in Franconia. 
 
 It is high time that this noble profession, lying 
 as it does, like agriculture and horticulture, at the 
 very foundation of human happiness, were disae 
 
 1 
 
DIGNITY OF THE HOUSE-KEEPER. 33 
 
 bused. It is high time the miserable notion that it 
 is vulgar or mean, were discountenanced. It is 
 quite time it were taken by wise and discreet 
 mothers into their own hands, instead of being com- 
 mitted to those who have no interest in it; or at 
 least no such interest as. the mother has—a desire 
 to promote by it, the highest well being of hus- 
 band and children. Say what we will, it is the 
 mother, and she alone, who can ever be expected 
 to become the intelligent, the truly benevolent, or 
 the truly skilful house-keeper. 
 
 We talk of the importance of legislation—and 
 very properly. What republican does not admit, 
 _ and—now-a-days at least—feel the importance of 
 good and salutary laws? And yet where is there 
 to be found a more efficient legislator than the 
 house-keeper? ‘“ Let me make the ballads of a 
 nation, and you may make its laws,” said a person 
 who understood well the tendency of human na- 
 ture, and the causes which silently and almost 
 imperceptibly operate to make human character 
 what it is. But I would say, rather—Let me 
 have the control of the nursery—let me direct the 
 sweeping, the washing, the fire-building, the cook- 
 ing, the conversation, &c., of the infant and the 
 child—and I care comparatively little whether the 
 laws are made by one man, by a few men, or by 
 
 many men. I care comparatively little, as to the 
 3 K 
 
34 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 results on human happiness, for a single generation 
 or even a century, whether the government be 
 that of a monarchy, an aristocracy, or a democ- 
 racy. If the human being is trained to obey, first 
 from habit, and afterwards from a sense of duty, 
 the laws and relations of the human constitution 
 along with the laws divine, that being cannot, as a 
 general rule, be very miserable, whether its resi- 
 dence be America, Burmah, Japan, Otaheite, 
 Evypt, Soudan, Siberia or Greenland. But in 
 proportion as an individual is not thus trained, will 
 his condition be unhappy, and life itself seem to 
 him, at times, but a doubtful blessing, though he 
 have the clear sky of New England, or inhale the 
 soft air of Italy, and the balmy breezes of Ceylon ; 
 or though he should be admitted to revel in paradise. 
 Order is heaven’s first law, it is said; but without 
 this order in the little world within, of which the 
 external world is but the transcript, there can be 
 no heaven here, and I had almost said—and might 
 have said it, so far as the creature whom we call 
 man is concerned—there can be none hereafter. 
 We are accustomed to esteem wise and able 
 counsellors. “We do not always understand the 
 laws framed by our legislators, in all their bearings 
 on particular cases, and so we desire information, 
 and sometimes direction, in questions which come 
 up in regard to rights and duties. Hence the host 
 
DIGNITY OF THE HOUSE-KEEPER. 35 
 
 of lawyers among us. And they are not without 
 their use. ‘The common prejudice against their 
 honesty and integrity is altogether unreasonable. 
 I believe a large majority of them are _high- 
 minded and honorable men. Perhaps there are, 
 not unfrequently, too many. Still, I repeat it, a 
 a proportion is highly useful, taxed as the rest of 
 the community may be and must be—as in the 
 case of all other arrangements for the removal of 
 the evils entailed on us by ignorance, error or infir- 
 mity—to support or sustain them. But what is 
 the influence of the most able counsellor among 
 us—I care not if he is a Webster, a Henry, or 
 a Phillips—compared with the influence of the 
 house-keeper? Her counsels, overlooked as they 
 often are, whether she be the mother or not, have 
 an influence in society, the sum total of which can 
 never be over-estimated. She can establish what 
 the law and the lawyer may labor forever in vain 
 to accomplish; she can prevent, by her daily 
 efforts, what, if not early prevented, no law or 
 lawyers can ever cure—though their influence 
 could be brought to bear seventy thousand years 
 instead of seventy. 
 
 We are accustomed—most of us at least—to 
 think favorably of the influences of the christian 
 ministry. ‘Though I am very far from being, in 
 the cant language of those who complain so much 
 
36. THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 _of cant among us, of the number of the priest 
 ridden, I am free to admit, that notwithstanding the 
 clerical abuses in other parts of the world, and 
 more especially in other ages, there never yet has 
 been—since the creation—such a band of holy, 
 self-denying friends of human improvement, eleva- 
 tion, and emancipation, as the Protestant ministry 
 of the United States, especially of New England ; 
 and for one, instead of diminishing their influence, 
 I would increase it, at least thirty fold. Instead 
 of one of these godly men and one true friend of 
 civil and religious light and liberty to every thou- 
 sand or two thousand persons, I would gladly have 
 a minister with a society in every school district, 
 and would cheerfully contribute my full proportion 
 of what was really necessary for his comfortable 
 and even liberal support. I would gladly see him 
 spending his time, his talents and his strength, as a 
 father in the midst of a hundred and fifty or two 
 hundred persons, including men, women and chil- 
 dren, and aspiring to no higher earthly glory than 
 to be, not the brilliant orator among them, but the 
 humble instrument of leading them, by his labors, 
 his example, and his prayers, back to the bliss of 
 Eden. 
 
 And yet, after all these concessions in favor of 
 ministers and the ministerial office, what can the 
 minister do for the moral, the social, the religious 
 
_ DIGNITY OF THE HOUSE-KEEPER. 37 
 
 elevation of mankind, without the aid of the house- 
 keeper? He may watch, and labor, and pray for 
 the soul ; but the house-keeper can do more than 
 all this. She presides over, and moulds, and 
 shapes. She forms the “house” the soul “ lives 
 in;” and, in this way, almost entirely directs the 
 motions and tendencies of the soul itself. What 
 can a minister do for a person who continually 
 breathes the impure atmosphere of filthy apart- 
 ments ; is drenched, daily, with hot, compound or 
 over-stimulating drinks ; or fed with hot, oily, mdi- 
 gestible or poisonous food ; and whose very solids 
 and fluids, in every “ nook and corner,” are, as it 
 were, defiled? Worse, if possible, even than all 
 this, what can he do to give a proper current to 
 the thoughts and feelings, when every thought, and 
 feeling, and motion which is kindled in the kitchen 
 or the parlor, savors of some sensual gratification— 
 good eating, good drinking, fashionable amuse- 
 ments, fashionable dress, equipage or money ? 
 Many of us are accustomed to think favorably 
 of christian missions, domestic or foreign; and 
 well we may. ‘That individual, male or female, 
 old or young, high or low, rich or poor, of much or 
 of little influence, who does not feel the force of 
 the command—“ Go ye into all the world, and 
 preach the gospel to every creature””—that is, do 
 ‘all in your power to extend it to every human 
 
38 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 being—and who cannot say with Paul, “ Wo is 
 me if I preach not the gospel,” at least by ex- 
 ample—is not more than half awake, as yet, to 
 the true dignity of human nature ; and that indi- 
 vidual who does not, in this view, sympathize with 
 modern missionary efforts, whatever may be the 
 incidental or occasional mistakes or defects of 
 those who direct or those who prosecute them, has 
 not, in my view, become as yet, thoroughly imbued 
 with the true gospel spirit—the spirit of Christ. 
 
 And yet what mission, foreign or domestic, has 
 higher claims, even as a christian enterprise, than 
 the mission of the house-keeper? ‘To her is. 
 entrusted the development—provided she is at the 
 same time both mother and house-keeper—of the 
 buds of character; the first lineaments of self- 
 denial, self government and self-sacrifice. Nay, 
 more ; she is herself required to exercise a degree 
 of self-government and self-sacrifice, which is sel- 
 dom if ever required of him who goes to India or 
 the Sandwich Islands. 
 
 I do not mean by this, that the self-sacrifice of 
 the foreign missionary is not sometimes greater 
 than that of the true christian missionary in the 
 household ; but only that it is not so constant nor 
 so great in the aggregate. It costs, indeed, a most 
 painful struggle to leave one’s friends, and relations, 
 and country, to be consigned for life to—we know 
 
 et 
 
DIGNITY OF THE HOUSE-KEEPER. 39 
 
 not what, till Providence reveals it in the event. 
 The breaking away, even from the cold and sterile 
 shores of our New England, is almost like tearing 
 the heart away from the living system; and the 
 pangs felt on reaching a foreign inhospitable shore, 
 and landing or preparing to land amid a group of 
 half naked, half fed, half brutal savages, is un- 
 known, and must remain unknown except to those 
 who have felt them. But there is something in 
 human nature, independent even of divine influ- 
 ence, which enables it, in emergencies like these, 
 to bear up. “As our day is, so is our strength.” 
 But these great trials excepted, we are less seldom 
 called to self-denial abroad, perhaps, than at home. 
 We can pursue what we deem a rational course 
 of eating, drinking, dressing, conversing and acting, 
 so far at least as we have the means of doing 
 it, without subjecting ourselves to the “ wise 
 speeches” or the ridicule of those about us; as 
 we should be, if we were at home. 
 
 But if in being missionaries at home we have 
 fewer great trials or emergencies, they are yet 
 constant and almost unremitted; and who that can 
 even govern himself occasionally in great matters, 
 has not found himself perpetually overcome in 
 smaller things, and perpetually falling from his 
 steadfastness? But of all persons in the world, 
 who. is more tried than the house-keeper, and the 
 
- 40 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 director and guide of some half a dozen children ? 
 Are they not continually looking to her for an 
 example? Does she not know this? Does she 
 not know that her every error—in eating, drinking, 
 conversing—is educating them? Does she not 
 know that the quality, quantity, &c., of food and 
 drink, drawn in by the child at the breast, tends not 
 merely to propagate danger and error, but to 
 affect her own temper and character, modifying or 
 affecting her example? Does she not know that 
 she has not a child under her care, but is treading 
 at every moment on the verge of destruction, 
 physical and moral? And if watchfulness and 
 prayer, and self-denial and self-sacrifice are neces- 
 sary anywhere in the wide world, is it not here? 
 Every circumstance—I had almost said every 
 thought and feeling—of the mother and all others 
 around the child, is, in every waking moment of 
 its early life, giving it a tendency to diverge from 
 the desired point, the perfection of its nature. 
 The whole current of fashion, in almost every 
 family and out of it, is in opposition to the best 
 interests of human nature; and I have never 
 yet known the parent who had the moral courage 
 to act up to all the true interests of her child, in 
 opposition to the standard which fashion has arbi- 
 trarily set up, even so far as she knew what her 
 duty was. All, so far as I know, yield more or 
 
DIGNITY OF THE HOUSE-KEEPER. A\ 
 
 less to the temptations with which they are sur- 
 rounded. Now it is the moral courage to do right 
 as far as we know, as well as to seek for farther 
 light, which I deem more scarce than a spirit 
 which would lead us to become missionaries on a 
 scale where we should be more exposed and 
 known as such. Or in other words, it seems to 
 me that it requires more self-sacrifice to be a mis- 
 sionary to a household than to a foreign country. 
 Nor is the influence of the house-keeper in the 
 formation of character, by any means wholly nega- 
 tive. Not only is a habit of self-denial required 
 to be attended to at every step of her own life 
 and the lives of those whom she is forming, with a 
 view to save herself and them from loss and suffer- 
 ing, but also with a view to train them up for God 
 and for their country. In vain, or almost in vain, 
 may other efforts be made, if the proper work be 
 not done here, in the family. And could it be well 
 done here, fora few generations—could the nations 
 which have not yet embraced christianity but see a 
 race of such christians as might under God be reared 
 were the foundations properly placed—we might 
 then hope the labors of foreign missionaries would 
 begin to produce their appropriate and expected 
 fruits. The Jew, the Mahometan and the Pagan, 
 might then be led to say—not as now, in irony, 
 but in sincerity—‘ See how these christians love 
 
42 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 ” and what they would see and 
 
 admire as truly lovely, they would not be slow to 
 examine and ultimately to embrace. 
 
 one another ; 
 
 How great, in this view, the dignity of the 
 housewife—not, indeed, the pseudo character to 
 whom this appellation is sometimes awarded, but 
 she who is the housewife indeed—such a house- 
 wife as Solomon describes, and as the future mil- 
 lennial ages of the world are destined to realize! 
 What can she not do, who, with the light, and 
 truth, and love of a servant of the Most High, and 
 with the bodies, and minds, and souls of men— 
 from the very first—committed almost entirely to 
 her charge, shall do for them what God and 
 holy angels and holy. men expect? It is astonish- 
 ing beyond astonishment, that men made in the 
 image of God, should have hitherto, as if with one 
 consent, contrived to render house-keeping dis- 
 reputable, and those who attend to it with their 
 own hands as vulgar. Nothing can be more 
 directly at variance with the truth—nothing, or at 
 least hardly anything, more in the way of human 
 improvement. 
 
 Much is said in our day—and too much cannot 
 certainly be done—in the way of promoting reform 
 in prisons. But how much more can the house- 
 keeper do—as will probably be seen hereafter— 
 in the way of preventing the necessity not only of 
 
DIGNITY OF THE HOUSE-KEEPER. 43 
 
 legislation and lawyers, but of crimes and prisons. 
 It is because children have first been prisoners in 
 the domestic circle—in body, mind and soul—that 
 they afterwards become state prisoners. Their 
 appetites become perverted by exciting food and 
 drink, and by this means, and by means of bad 
 associations with domestics or others, their minds 
 and souls become greatly injured, till they are 
 ready to yield to and become the slaves of every 
 temptation, and the votaries of every bad habit. 
 And thus are they educated, and thus do they edu- 
 cate themselves, to vice and crime; and thus are 
 our prisons and dungeons filled with convicts. 
 How happy will be the day when there will be no 
 such thing known as two classes of persons in 
 families, a higher and a lower—jailers and prisoners 
 —but when all the family, however numerous and 
 how little soever united by ties of consanguinity, 
 will be equal and free, dwelling together, eating 
 and drinking together, and whether of one nation 
 or another, always uniting around the same domestic 
 altar. 
 
 How happy the time when no restraint will be 
 necessary to keep children from mixing, too much, 
 with those who would degrade them or lead them 
 into temptation ; when there will be but one com- 
 mon interest in the whole family circle ; and when 
 children will begin to regard father and mother, 
 
44 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. - 
 
 and brother and sister, and adopted brother and 
 sister—if such there must be—not in the relation 
 of jailers and prisoners, but in the relation of truest 
 and best friends! 
 
 We have Moral Reform Societies. But a right 
 early management would prevent the necessity of 
 all such associations. If every house-keeper knew 
 her own dignity, and would live up to it, impurity 
 and licentiousness would soon cease. ‘The same 
 bad habits, physical and moral, which fill our 
 prisons, fill also our houses of ill-fame. Confec- 
 tionary, and bad food, and bad drinks, and uncon- 
 trolled passions, and misplaced affections—all of 
 which might be banished, were house-keeping 
 restored to its primitive dignity—are the prolific 
 source of half the licentiousness with which our 
 earth is afflicted, and changed from an Eden to a 
 scene of mourning, lamentation and wo. 
 
 We boast of our literary institutions—our infant 
 schools, our common schools, our high schools, our 
 anstitutes, our colleges, our universities. But what 
 is the influence of these, excellent as it may be, 
 compared with that of the kitchen and parlor? 
 Say what we will, it is here—exactly here—that 
 our characters, even in a literary point of view, are 
 determined. I would not say formed ; for of this, 
 I am not so sure. But I have never yet known, 
 personally—others may have known such instances 
 
DIGNITY OF THE HOUSE-KEEPER. 45 
 
 —of a lover of knowledge or moral progress, who 
 was not initiated into this dove by those who had 
 the control of his early infancy and his childhood. 
 On the contrary, I could fill half this volume with 
 anecdotes of those in whom the seeds of that love 
 of literature and science which they subsequently 
 manifested, was sown in early infancy by that 
 maternal teacher whose influence is, after all, most 
 awakening, most impressive, and most permanent. 
 
 Were it left to my choice to say which of two 
 things the world should have—the right sort of 
 household management and education, with no 
 school instruction whatever, or the best sort of 
 school education of every grade, but without any- 
 thing done in the household beyond what is now 
 done by nine tenths if not nineteen twentieths of 
 mankind—lI should not hesitate a moment to decide 
 on the former. Such is the value I attach to the 
 domestic institution and the family school; and 
 such are my conceptions of the native dignity of 
 house-keeping. ° | 
 
 I do not mean by all this that the house-keeper 
 is to have, necessarily, her set hours and set lessons 
 of instruction, though I wish her to have time 
 for even these. But I mean that she should so 
 manage in all concerns of the household—and 
 these it is which, as I shall never cease to repeat, 
 go far to form character, the great object and 
 
46 THE YOUNG HOUSE*KEEPER. 
 
 end of education—that the results, along with the 
 aid of those who cooperate with her, shall do more 
 for the children which form a part of it, than all 
 else which is done for them, directly or indirectly, 
 in the whole process of their forming stage of | 
 progress. But is not that the truest, noblest 
 literary institution in the world—nay, is it not more 
 than all others—which secures all this as its inevi- 
 table results? It certainly is so; it cannot be 
 otherwise. 
 
 Let me not be understood as saying, that in the 
 present state of things, every housewife who had’ 
 leisure to do things as she ought, and to control 
 things as she ought, would do them right. ‘There 
 would be still, as there now is, both good and bad 
 education. But even as the general knowledge 
 of housewives now is, the common belief that the 
 family is more important, because more influential 
 on character than all other schools, would be in 
 favor of human happiness, provided they would 
 adopt, as speedily as may be, those principles, and 
 that rational system of house-keeping, which it is 
 the object of this work to recommend and incul- 
 cate. 
 
 Lastly, we value highly—but probably not too 
 highly—the services of the worthy physician. He 
 is one of our most intimate and bosom friends; and 
 we are generally ready to award him a seat by the 
 
= m 
 DIGNITY OF THE HOUSE-KEEPER. AT 
 
 side of him who labors to remove or prevent the 
 maladies of our souls. But if “ prevention is better 
 than cure”’—if, according to the motto of one of 
 our medical journals, “ the best part of the medical 
 art is the art of avoiding pain,” who shall say that 
 the maternal house-keeper, who holds, as it were, 
 in her hands, the keys of life and health, and can 
 prevent more pain—lI was going to say infinitely 
 more—than the ablest physician can cure, shall 
 not be considered as at least a fellow being, and a 
 fellow laborer in the common cause of humanity ? 
 I claim not for woman a place which does not 
 belong to her; but*I do claim that though she is 
 not, and cannot be, and should not be a physician, 
 in every sense of the term, yet she is, and should 
 be, more to every family than the physician—in- 
 comparably more. 
 
 Every female should be trained to the angelic 
 art of managing properly the sick. It is strange 
 that in view of the common maxim, that a good 
 nurse is worth more than a physician, we should 
 have so few professional nurses, male and female, 
 among us. Yet if we had a dozen of these, in all 
 parts of our country, for each physician, it would 
 not absolve woman from the universal obligation 
 of attending to the subject. ‘There is no female in 
 the wide world—above all, no one who sustains 
 the proud prerogative of being a mother, to say 
 
48 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 nothing of the house-keeper—that may not be 
 called to watch and ‘nurse the sick ; nay, that will 
 not be so, almost inevitably. But how many lives 
 have I seen destroyed, through the ignorance or 
 the over-kindness—usually both combined—of the 
 mother ? 
 
 I will not dwell longer, here, on the details of this 
 subject. ‘To show the superiority of the mother 
 who is a house-keeper, to the physician, whom we 
 everywhere so highly esteem, would be to follow 
 her through her whole course of the physical man- 
 avement of her child, in sickness and in health ; 
 and to observe every step she takes, above all the 
 rest, in the processes of cookery. ‘This would be 
 a task which I cannot attempt here. If I have 
 done little more than to assert the dignity of the 
 housewife, this at least is something. I trust, how- 
 ever, that subsequent chapters will do something 
 in the way of proving it. I trust they will present 
 some views on the duties of the house-keeper, that 
 have not hitherto been current among us. Let not 
 the reader, however, cry heresy, simply because 
 the opinions presented are new. ‘Truth is truth 
 still, whether it be old or new, and whether it be 
 fashionable or unfashionable. 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 FIRST PRINCIPLES. 
 
 1. Obey the dictates of conscience. 2. Dare to disobey the 
 mandates of fashion. 3. Dignify your profession. 4. Keep 
 the house yourself, as much as possible. 5. Whatever is 
 worth doing, is worth doing well. 6. Importance of se- 
 curing the aid of the husband and others. 7. Anecdote 
 and reflections. 
 
 Tue first resolution of a young house-keeper 
 should be, to do what she believes she ought to do; 
 in other words, to obey the dictates of her own 
 conscience. I care not so much what other quali- 
 fications she possesses ; if she has not this primary 
 one, she can never succeed in discharging, per- 
 fectly, the duties of her profession. I do not, 
 indeed, advise her to pay mo attention to the 
 opinions of others. She should have some regard 
 to opinion, public and individual ; these should be 
 taken into the account, in making up a judgment 
 as to her own proper course; but when her 
 own course and duty are clear, and the time has 
 arrived for action, let her act according to the 
 
 dictates of her conscienee. 
 4 
 
50 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 There are those who are swayed by fashion. 
 ‘They do not merely take fashion into the account, 
 when making up a judgment what their duty is ; 
 but even after the decision is made, perhaps in the 
 fear of God, they dare not execute it fully, lest 
 it should be unfashionable; lest “my lord” or 
 “my lady” should look sideways at them. Such 
 housewives will never succeed well. ‘They must 
 resolve to do what they believe to be right, in 
 view of all circumstances and consequences—and 
 fashion among the rest; but the decision once 
 made what duty is, let them go forward. Let 
 there be no misgivings—no fears. Persons who 
 do thus may control the fashions. ‘Those who 
 tremble to execute the cool decisions of their own 
 sober judgment, lest it should be, after all, unpopu- 
 Jar, will be the most miserable of slaves. ‘They 
 will be ‘“‘hewers of wood and drawers of water” 
 to a tyrant whose only law is that of caprice—and 
 whose service is spiritual death. 
 
 The house-keeper, as I have already said, must 
 have correct notions of the dignity of her duties. 
 She is not ministering to the wants of a few bodies, 
 considered merely as bodies; but through these 
 bodies to the wants of immortal souls. I am some- 
 times astonished to find the employment of house- 
 keeping rated so low. It would seem as if a world 
 where employments are valued inversely, according 
 
FIRST PRINCIPLES. 51 
 
 to their uselessness, must be turned topsy-turvy. 
 Yet such a world is ours. The cultivator of the 
 soil and the keeper of the house, are considered as 
 mere drudges, nigh akin to the domestic animals 
 of which they have the charge; while the useless 
 or almost useless being, that struts about doing 
 nothing and producing nothing, either by the labor 
 of body or mind—he is the true man, the man of 
 value. He may, perhaps, have a soul. 
 
 These things ought not so to be. Young house- 
 keeper, you must resolve, that so far as in you lies, 
 they shall not be so. But in order to this, learn 
 to reverence yourself and respect your profession. 
 Make no unworthy concessions of inferiority. Just 
 so surely as the soul takes its hues—yea, its char- 
 acter too—from the condition of the clay tenement 
 in which it dwells, just so surely is your profession 
 
 that of determining what the condition of this clay 
 tenement shall be; and it is one of the noblest 
 that can adorn or exalt humanity. 
 
 Away, then, from your mind, every unworthy 
 idea concerning. domestic life. Away the feeling, 
 that your occupation is an inferior one. Fools 
 may call it so; fools have called it so. If you 
 were mere automatons—if amid the din of pots 
 and kettles, it were not possible for you to think or 
 feel—the case would be altered. But the service 
 which I propose to the house-keeper is not a 
 
52 - THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 slavery to her employment. She has something 
 more to do than to attend to pots and kettles. She 
 has the temporal, and, to some extent, the eternal 
 well being of those around her at her disposal. 
 She has character at her disposal. Her work, in 
 short, is education—the physical education and 
 - management of a rising family. It is more, even ; 
 she cannot be the physical without being the intel- 
 lectual and the moral educator of her family. 
 This I trust I shall make more plain hereafter. 
 
 One important resolution of a young house- 
 keeper should be, to keep the house herself. Let 
 her dispense, as much as possible, with all aid, 
 except that of her children and husband. I know, 
 indeed, that many an individual is so situated that 
 she must have additional help; but let her not 
 consider it a privilege, but a misfortune; and let 
 her embrace, with joy, the first opportunity of 
 going back to the simplicity of nature. 
 
 The young house-keeper should not only re- 
 solve—she should execute her resolves. Let it be 
 understood, once for all, that it will be of as little 
 value to resolve merely, if that should be the last 
 of it, as it will be to read this book, and yet give 
 no heed to its sayings. The Germans have a 
 proverb—“ He is the wise man, not who tells what 
 he tntends to do, but who does it.” In Jike man- 
 ner, she is not the wise house-keeper who suffers 
 
FIRST PRINCIPLES. 53 
 
 her resolves to be mere resolves ; but who puts 
 every worthy resolve into immediate execution 
 
 Let her remember, too, that whatever is worth 
 doing, is worth doing well. In this point of view 
 there are no little things pertaining to housewifery. 
 Indeed, as it is in morals, so it often is in physical 
 matters, the little things of life become, by their 
 results—their bearing on human character and 
 human happiness—the truly great things. 
 
 She is not the worthy house-keeper who slights 
 this or that duty, solely because it is a small one. 
 She who would come up to the dignity of her 
 occupation must, for the time, throw her whole 
 soul into her employment. No matter how trifling 
 it may, at the moment, appear; let her call to her 
 aid her general principle—Whatever is worth doing, 
 is worth doing well; and let it invest her labors 
 with their real value. It is said of Dr. Goldsmith, 
 that he “ always seemed to do best that which he 
 was doing.” This is what is needed by the young 
 house-keeper. 
 
 I have said that the young house-keeper should, 
 as much as possible, keep the house herself. If she 
 has the right sort of husband, she will, however, 
 receive great aid from him. The husband can do 
 an immense deal to render the labors of his wife 
 lighter or more severe. He can bring. more or less 
 ‘of dirt into the house. He can assist more or less 
 
54 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER, 
 
 in teaching the children to be cleanly. He can 
 bring in more or less of wood and water. All 
 these, and a thousand more of the little, almost 
 nameless things of life, can be so managed as 
 greatly to facilitate or retard the progress of the 
 house-keeper, according to the disposition. Wo to 
 the housewife who has a husband that refuses not 
 only to help her, but to take any pains not to hin- 
 der her, or increase, unnecessarily, her labors ! 
 
 I will not undertake to say how far a husband 
 can go, in any particular case, in the way of ren- 
 dering his wife assistance, without interference with 
 his peculiar duties. But I do say he can go very 
 far. I have been acquainted in hundreds of fami- 
 hes—intimately so in many—and I can truly say, 
 I never yet saw the husband who assisted to the 
 extent he might have done. I have never yet 
 seen one who did not leave undone many little 
 things which he ought to have done, and: who did 
 not do some things which ought to have been 
 omitted. 
 
 You will say, perhaps, that 1 am out of my 
 sphere, just now; and that I am writing for hus- 
 bands. By no means. I am only telling the house- 
 keeper what some men are. Is’ not this needful 
 knowledge? Is it not especially so, if along with 
 the knowledge of what they ere, I try to tell you 
 what they should be, and what is and what is not 
 
FIRST PRINCIPLES. 59 
 
 in your power, in regard to rendering them what 
 they should be? If instead of thinking me out of 
 my sphere, and returning me thanks, you set about 
 complaining of me, my case will be a sad one in- 
 deed ; for I shall be sure to get no thanks from the 
 husband, for revealing our secrets. 
 
 Let me tell you, however, be the hazard what it 
 may, that you may train your husband to help you, 
 if you will begin right ; or you may, at your option, 
 train him to hinder you. I have witnessed both 
 sorts of training, and the consequences of both.—I 
 repeat it, your husband will help you much or little, 
 according as you begin with him. And so will 
 your children. ° 
 
 The way to begin right is to talk the matter 
 over. He wishes, as much as you—at least this is 
 commonly the case—to live independently. He 
 does not want, more than you, the trouble or the 
 expense of domestics. Tell him of the importance 
 and even necessity that you should receive, from 
 time to time, a little of his aid, when he is about 
 the house. ‘Tell him, moreover, in these moments 
 of calm conversation, what little fixtures, conven- 
 iences, &c., you need. Do not wait till the mo- 
 ment you feel the inconveniences of not having 
 them begin to press upon you, and then scold 
 about it. This will not accomplish your object ; 
 at least, it will not do it in the best manner. 
 
4 
 
 56 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 It is not difficult, where affection is mutual, to 
 convince a husband of the importance of these kind 
 attentions, which cost him so little, but which are 
 so valuable to yourself. ‘The great difficulty is, to 
 ‘form in him the habit of affordmg them. ‘To this 
 end you must not hesitate to tell him plainly but 
 kindly what you need. More than this ; you must 
 set the example of assistance by aiding him. ‘There 
 are a thousand little things which you can perform 
 for him, from time to time. See then that you 
 are not slow to perform them, and that you do it 
 cheerfully. 
 
 Some men are trained in such a manner as to 
 need little training afterward. Others are trained 
 never to do anything in the house, at all. With 
 the last you will have great trouble; but have 
 courage, for your difficulties may al] be surmounted. 
 
 I knew an excellent housewife whose husband 
 had never been trained to render the least assist- ~ 
 ance to the wife, in any of the little things about 
 the house. He scarcely knew how to do so much 
 as to bring in a pail of water. If requested to do 
 it, he did not hesitate, but did it cheerfully ; but as 
 the request was seldom made, the assistance was 
 seldom afforded. 
 
 The first months of matrimony at length over, 
 the requests for aid, instead of increasing, were 
 
 >? 
 diminished ; and along with the unfrequency of the 
 
FIRST PRINCIPLES. 57 
 
 calls on the husband came an increasing disinclina- 
 tion to comply with them when made. The result, 
 in short, was, that it cost so much urging to get 
 aid from him, that the effort was finally given up. 
 
 I have known this young housewife, when toil- 
 ing very hard, over her wash-bench or elsewhere, 
 when she really needed a little help, and when her 
 husband could have afforded it as well as not—I 
 have known her, I say, to leave her work, and go 
 for wood or water, or into the field for vege- 
 tables to boil for dinner. All this I have known 
 done, not only for a year or two, but for many 
 years. I have, moreover, seen the father and one 
 or two sons, almost as large as himself, sit in the 
 house, doing nothing, perhaps, except holding a 
 little loose or unimportant conversation with each 
 other or with some neighbor; and I have known 
 them sit for hours, while the mother, fully and 
 laboriously employed directly before their faces, 
 would often leave her work to perform little tasks 
 that ought not to have been required of her in any 
 case, and much more in the circumstances I have 
 mentioned. She would not ask for aid ; and as it 
 was never volunteered, the sons grew up in all the 
 stupidity to which the father had been educated ; 
 and indeed to a stupidity still worse. They 
 seemed not to know that they had it in their 
 power to do anything for the mother. 
 
58 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 - Now it is difficult to know which to blame most 
 in such a case as this; but it is impossible for me 
 to help pitying rather the most, the house-keeper. 
 And yet I am quite sure her situation, that of a 
 complete drudge, might have been avoided. She 
 might have trained her husband—and afterward 
 her sons—to a course entirely different. ‘Though 
 she had an iron constitution, she is now, at sixty, 
 worn out ; and worn out, too, for want of the little 
 attentions of which I have been speaking. 
 
 _ Let me say again, still. more confidently, that 
 such a course is entirely uncalled for and unneces- 
 sary. More than this, it is wrong. This house- 
 wife of whom I have spoken, never attempted—I 
 venture to affirm it—to discuss the subject with 
 her husband, in her whole life. She performed 
 the whole household labor of a family consisting 
 of herself, a husband, and four or five children, 
 with few conveniences and with no foreign help; 
 in addition to which she spun hundreds of runs of 
 yarn, and wove her hundreds of yards of cloth 
 every year. She performed, in fact, what is now 
 considered—when we remember at what disadvan- 
 tages it was done—at least enough for two com- 
 mon females; and she did it well. There was no 
 slighting of her work, nor any neglect of cleanli- 
 ness. All her washing, ironing, baking, brewing, 
 making, mending, &c., was performed with the 
 
“FIRST PRINCIPLES. 59 
 
 utmost neatness. Beyond even this, she found 
 time for a great deal of reading and some visiting. 
 She also found time for reading with and instruct- 
 ing her children. I do not know of more than 
 one housewife in the whole neighborhood who did 
 more than she in the education of her family—for 
 here, too, she was without aid or cooperation—or 
 who labored in this department with more success. 
 
 I know well the old maxim, it is better to wear 
 out than to rust out; and there is much of truth 
 
 
 
 in it. But we are not required even to wear out 
 unnecessarily. Nay, more, we have no right to do 
 it, It is as much our duty to God to preserve our 
 health and strength as long as possible, consistently 
 with the reasonable discharge of our duties, as it is 
 to preserve either of them at all. But this house- 
 wife erred not only in wearing herself out prema- 
 turely, and shortening her life some fifteen or 
 twenty years, but she did a most flagrant wrong 
 to her own family. For to say nothing of her 
 husband and of the wrong she did to him by leav- 
 ing him to wrong her, as she did, she was the 
 means of giving forth to the world two young men 
 of the same habits, and liable to treat their wives 
 with the same neglect. 
 
 We may thus see how easily the omission to do 
 right may slide into a positive wrong. It happens, 
 moreover, in the case I have mentioned, that the 
 
60 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 results to the sons, are not merely conjectural or 
 even theoretical. Neither of the two is -predis- 
 posed, in his daily habits, to depart from the way 
 in which he has been trained; and if a tendency 
 to such a disposition is ever happily evinced, it is 
 all a matter of effort, and not of ease and cheer- 
 fulness. 
 
 I have dwelt the longer on this topic, because 
 it involves a very great evil, and because I do not 
 remember to have seen it mentioned elsewhere. 
 It seems to me to be regarded as a little thing, or a 
 heresy, and on that account it,is generally over- 
 looked. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 HAVING A PLAN. 
 
 Why a plan is indispensable. Hour of rising. Arrange- 
 ments. Breakfast. Particular advantages. Mrs. Parkes’s 
 opinion. Time gained, how to be employed. 
 
 “‘ Orp_Er is heaven’s first law,” says one of the 
 poets; and it is, or should be, the first law of 
 that place which properly managed would, of all 
 other places below the sun, most nearly resemble 
 heaven. 
 
 But to have order, there must be plan. Here, 
 too, more, perhaps, than anywhere else, is it impor- 
 tant for the housewife to consult with her husband. 
 What can she do, in this respect, without him ? 
 And if there are children in the family—as I have 
 all along taken for granted—this circumstance ren- 
 ders mutual consultation still more indispensable. 
 
 I know a plan is difficult. So difficult, indeed, 
 is it, that no plan is often formed by the house- 
 keeper ; and of plans which are formed, not one in 
 ten is long adhered to. The departures from a 
 plan formed, soon become frequent, and, as it was 
 
62 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 made without taking the circumstances, and wishes, 
 and feelings of the whole family fully into the 
 account, it forms at length the exception, and not 
 the general rule; and is ultimately in danger of 
 being regarded as a mere nullity. 
 
 And yet, difficult as it is, its necessity—I repeat 
 it—is imperative. ‘This living at hap-hazard, in 
 families, is ruinous ; not so much, indeed, to health 
 as to the intellect and the morals. It is bad 
 enough, however, for either; and is one of the 
 errors in house-keeping which should be strictly 
 and sedulously avoided. 
 
 Ido not believe there is one husband in ten, 
 who would not try to conform to a reasonable 
 plan—and more than this, the housewife need 
 not ask of him—when proposed and urged by one 
 whom he loves ; and when, above all, he finds her 
 rigidly conforming to it herself. I say conformity 
 is all she need ask of him, but I believe she would 
 gain more than this. I believe that thousands of 
 families fall into ruin for want of plan or system on 
 ‘the part of the housewife, while the head of the 
 family remains ignorant of the cause; but I believe, 
 too, there are some sensible men, who, without 
 knowing—for want of experience—the value of 
 order and system, would so approve of it at first 
 sight, and be so cheered by the example of a wife, 
 that they would conform, at once, to almost any- 
 
HAVING A PLAN. 63 
 
 thing which should be proposed, at least long 
 enough to make a fair experiment. | 
 
 The hour of rising should be assigned for each— 
 for the husband, the housewife, the children, the 
 domestics, (if domestics there must needs be ;) 
 and it should be distinctly and cordially assented 
 to. That hour should be early. I do not under- 
 take to assign the precise time which is adapted 
 to different persons, ages, habits, &c.; this is of 
 less consequence than that there should de a time, 
 and that it should be as seldom as possible deviated 
 from. ‘The master of the family, as he is supposed 
 to need less sleep than any of its members, is the 
 proper person to rise first; but if there be that 
 energy wanting—that readiness to cooperate and 
 carry on the plan—which may sometimes exist, 
 and if, too, the thing be perfectly understood and 
 agreed on, the house-keeper may be first. 
 
 There is no difficulty of awaking at a desired 
 hour of the morning, when one has a strong motive 
 for it; but it is to be regretted that when we sleep 
 thus, on tip-toe as it were, our sleep is not so 
 sound or so refreshing as under other circum- 
 stances. I therefore prefer that there should be 
 some ingenious contrivance, to awaken a house- 
 keeper at first—perhaps an alarm clock, if nothing 
 better should present—until the habit is effectually 
 formed ; after which, she will find little difficulty 
 
64 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 of awaking when she, wishes to do so. The 
 power of habit, in this respect, is well known. At 
 ~ the appointed time, she should rise and call up the 
 rest. 
 
 The hour for breakfast—and for devotion, if that 
 precede breakfast—should also be assigned; and 
 when thus fixed, should not be delayed except on 
 special occasions, and these should be exceedingly 
 rare. Better in all respects, to sit down a few 
 minutes before the time, than one minute or even 
 one half minute later ;—better for the body, better 
 for the- mind, and better for the whole character. 
 The same remarks may be appliadee to every meal 
 during the day. 
 
 The time to be spent at breakfast should be 
 fixed, as well as that to be spent at every other 
 meal; and the allowance should be more liberal 
 than is common in our country. It ought to be at 
 least half an hour each for breakfast and supper, 
 and an hour for dinner. But whether it should be 
 less or more, let it be fixed; and except in emer- 
 gencies, as in the arrival of a friend, or the occur- 
 rence of an accident, let it seldom if ever be 
 departed from. 
 
 Hours, also, should be allotted by the good 
 house-keeper, to every kind of work which is 
 known to recur statedly in connection with meals, 
 or daily in connection with the arrival of particular 
 
HAVING A PLAN. 65 
 
 times or seasons. ‘The hour for evening devotions 
 and for retiring to rest should be equally definite. 
 
 There are some individuals who, for want of 
 plan, labor twice as hard to effect a given object 
 as others. ‘They pass through life in this manner— 
 they are mere drudges, and yet seem to get noth- 
 ing done. ‘They are apt, moreover, to pass through 
 life fretting. ‘Their neighbors get along so easily, 
 as if life were mere pastime, while they—poor 
 unfortunates !—must toil on without hope or pros- 
 pect of relief, except by death. 
 
 There are not a few who, with comparatively 
 little to do, seem to be always in a hurry, and yet 
 are always too late. ‘They are a little too late 
 about rising; then a little too late about break- 
 fast ; then too late about something else. It is as 
 if they had lost half an hour in the morning, and 
 were running and fretting all day to overtake it. 
 
 There are some advantages of early rising 
 which are not easily explained, though they may 
 be stated. The individual who rises at six in the 
 morning, and goes to bed at ten in the evening, 
 will, with the same amount of labor, have far less 
 of fatigue, all other things being equal, than the per- 
 son who rises at seven and goes to bed at eleven. 
 Whiy is it so? Both are supposed to be employed 
 sixteen hours, and both sleep eight hours, and they 
 
 are supposed to have equal health and strength, 
 5 
 
66 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 and to labor equally hard. Why, then, I repeat it, 
 should there be a difference ? 
 
 She who rises at six will have less of head- 
 ache, and thirst, and fever. Every person is, 
 indeed, more or less feverish at evening. The 
 pulse is more frequent, and there is more of thirst 
 and lassitude than in the morning. In the robust, 
 it is true, the difference is scarcely perceptible ; 
 but it nevertheless exists in a greater or less 
 degree. When we do not eat late suppers, how- 
 ever, or have too much company, or sit up beyond 
 eight or nine o’clock, sleep restores us; and we 
 rise the next morning in our wonted health. We 
 rise cheerfully, too; there is less of the feeling 
 that we have not yet slept enough ; there is less 
 of headache or thirst; there is not so bad a taste 
 in the mouth; and there is little of that disgust of 
 life, which, at this hour, so often creeps in upon 
 the house-keeper, and makes her feel as if she 
 could not possibly get up and resume her daily 
 round of duties. As housewives, in general, now 
 manage themselves and their concerns, there will 
 indeed be unpleasant feelings in any circumstances; 
 but the course I have recommended will greatly 
 diminish their number and their intensity. . 
 
 I would not dwell longer on the necessity of 
 “having a plan,” if I did not see housewives 
 almost everywhere suffering for the want of it. 
 
e 
 
 HAVING A PLAN. 67 
 
 They labor, often, twice as hard as is necessary, 
 and wear themselves out ten years sooner than 
 would be necessary, were things done more upon 
 system, and according to method and order. 
 
 Mrs. Parkes, in her book on Domestic Duties, 
 complains bitterly of the habit in housewives, of 
 hurrying from one thing to another, and regards it 
 as highly destructive not only to health of body, 
 but to the power and disposition to improve the 
 mind. ‘I recommend to you,” she tells the young 
 housewife, “ to plan the whole (of your work) out 
 every morning ; and, as far as you can command 
 Circumstances, to pursue your plan steadily. In 
 what regards the business of your family, endeavor 
 to arrange its performance as nearly at the same 
 time of each day, as can conveniently be done.” 
 “This,” she adds, “ will prevent confusion or 
 hurry.” In another place she says—“ Let every- 
 thing be done in order and in the right season, and 
 you will never be inclined to deny the truth that 
 “there is a time for all things.” 
 
 Mrs. P. also complains of procrastination in 
 young housewives; and says it is a form of self- 
 indulgence that entirely defeats its own intentions, 
 by causing a load of business to be always hanging 
 upon her shoulders. ‘This habit is easily avoided 
 by neglecting nothing which can be accomplished 
 to-day, and by having, at every evening, a course 
 
 4 
 
68 — ‘THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 ¢ 
 
 -marked out for each succeeding day. She even 
 more than half encourages what some have called 
 getting their work along one day beforehand, as in 
 the following anecdote : 
 
 ‘‘T have seen a striking proof of the advantages 
 of a contrary spirit, (the contrary of procrastina- 
 tion,) in Mrs. D.’s management, who has often 
 been, laughingly, accused by her friends of per- 
 forming to-day the duties of to-morrow, and anti- 
 cipating all its wants. However this may be, her 
 example is most worthy of imitation by all those 
 who have large families; for, in hers, neatness, 
 order and comfort are evident characteristics ; and 
 yet these are procured without any apparent effort 
 or trouble ; and Mrs. D. herself, though she does 
 not enter into general society, has always devoted 
 much time to the instruction of her children.” 
 
 This leads us naturally to a very important part 
 of the duty of all house-keepers, when there are 
 children or young domestics; and to see the neces- 
 sity of a plan for their benefit. ‘here is no instruc- 
 
 tion that sinks deep like a mother’s, whether that - 
 
 instruction is direct or indirect. J would have the 
 young house-keeper form and pursue a meditated 
 plan or system for her own comfort and health, 
 but much more for the sake of her own peace, and 
 comfort, and edification. I would have her do so 
 
 for the comfort also of her husband and children, | 
 
 7 
 
HAVING A PLAN. 69 
 
 who are certainly, at all times, the more happy for 
 it, in body and mind. But I would have her do 
 so, above all, that she may find time not only to 
 do her work slowly and instruct her daughters— 
 yes, and her sons, too—in regard to the nature of 
 her employments; but to give them numerous 
 lessons in philosophy, chemistry, natural history, 
 physiology, health, &c. Nor should I be satisfied 
 till she had so simplified her business as to find 
 time even for set lessons in her family, both in the 
 forenoon and in the afternoon. ‘The education— 
 the right education—of a family of children, 
 seems to me, | must say again, the more important 
 part of the duty of a house-keeper, provided she 
 is, at the same time, as I maintain she generally 
 should be, the wife and the mother. But this 
 subject of combining house-keeping with maternal 
 instruction, cannot be pursued to its full extent 
 in this volume. I will only repeat here a remark 
 which can never be too often repeated, that this 
 combination of elementary instruction with house- 
 hold duties, is one of the best methods—perhaps 
 the only successful method—which can ever be 
 - devised for rendering the family what it was obvi- 
 ously intended by Divine Providence it should be, 
 the most agreeable as well as most happy place in 
 the world, for the young of both sexes. It is 
 almost unnecessary to add, that should the time 
 
70 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 ever arrive, when the sons and daughters of our 
 citizens come to prefer the kitchen, the parlor, the 
 garden and the chamber, and the company and 
 familiar conversation of the mother and of each 
 ‘other, to all the pleasures and enjoyments to be 
 found abroad, half the temptation, and half the 
 vice and crime in the world, will be prevented. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 KEEPING ACCOUNTS. 
 
 Every housewife should keep her own accounts. Deficiency 
 in female instruction. Method of keeping an account. 
 Advantages. 
 
 Ir may excite a little surprise that I should 
 insist on the necessity, in a young housewife, of 
 keeping accounts. Her defective education, it will 
 be said, unfits her for the task. ‘This, however, is 
 not strictly true. Every person who can read and 
 write, can keep accounts. Not always in a way, 
 perhaps, which would be perfectly intelligible to 
 others, but in a way which would be intelligible to 
 herself ; and this is the main point to be secured. 
 
 But though we admit the ability of every person 
 who can read and write, to keep his own accounts, 
 it does not follow that the study of book-keeping 
 is of no service. I deem it highly desirable, not 
 to say indispensable, to every individual of both 
 sexes. And herein is a sad deficiency in the usual 
 course of female instruction. Young ladies are 
 taught many things of comparatively little value, 
 
42 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 while this subject is usually neglected. But if 
 mothers are to be our house-keepers, the general 
 intention of Providence respecting females requires 
 that they should be trained to everything which 
 pertains to house-keeping. ‘There would be far 
 less of poverty, and bankruptcy, and crime among 
 us, if all females were trained to the art of 
 book-keeping, and if all wives kept their own 
 accounts. 
 
 EXvery article purchased by the house-keeper, 
 let it be ever so small, should, every evening, be 
 carefully and regularly entered. All the particulars 
 should be mentioned, and all the circumstances 
 preserved. ‘This account should be occasionally 
 reviewed, examined and adjusted. In this way, 
 the house-keeper will not only be acquiring the 
 habit of order, but will, at the same time, be study- 
 ing frugality and economy. She _ will see -how 
 readily small sums swell into large accounts, and 
 discover, from time to time, many items of. expen- 
 diture which might have been omitted, without in 
 the least diminishing the happiness of any member 
 of the family. 
 
 Such a course will, in short, greatly assist her in 
 comparing her expenses from time to time, with 
 her or her husband’s income; so that the former 
 may not be suffered to exceed or go beyond the 
 latter. There is a sort of recklessness on this 
 
KEEPING ACCOUNTS. 73 
 
 subject, apparent in our community, which it be- 
 comes every rational, and above all every christian 
 house-keeper to avoid. 
 
 It is, moreover, a source of satisfaction as well as 
 of pecuniary advantage to the husband, to find his 
 wife carefully preserving a record of everything 
 she expends. Not that he wishes, by any means, 
 to act as a spy upon her proceedings. But as he 
 keeps, or ought to keep a recular account himself, 
 it is not only convenient but indispensable that her 
 purchases should be entered somewhere ; and what 
 better method can be devised than that she should 
 
 keep a book of her own? ; 
 
 The principal objection to this duty of a house- 
 wife is, that it consumes time. Without availing 
 myself of what I deem a fundamental principle 
 everywhere in life, that there is always time for 
 everything which ought to be done, my reply 
 would be, that on the principles involved in the 
 present volume, every house-keeper will have so 
 much of relief from the ordinary routine of domes- 
 tic concerns, as will afford her ample leisure for 
 keeping her accounts. Indeed I deem it useful for 
 all men, women and youth, to keep a record of 
 their expenses through life; and I believe that if 
 we have money to spend and time in which to | 
 expend it, we have also time enough to make a 
 faithful and legible record of the expenditure. 
 
74 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 This suggestion is not one of mere theory. I 
 have known a few house-keepers who kept a 
 memorandum of their expenses, in this way, simply 
 for the purposes I have mentioned. I am not here 
 speaking of the regular accounts kept with the 
 baker, the milk-man, the wash-woman, &c.; but 
 of an account kept by the housewife for her own 
 and her husband’s amusement and instruction, and 
 ultimate profit, : 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 KEEPING A JOURNAL. 
 
 General importance of keeping a journal. Qualifications. 
 Method should be simple. Materials of the journal. A 
 difficulty—how overcome. Reflections. 
 
 Ts duty is not deemed peculiar to the house- 
 keeper. Every individual in the world would 
 derive benefit from preserving ‘a daily record of 
 events, with the reflections to which they give 
 rise. Is it asked, what there is, in the monotony 
 of the parlor and kitchen, worth recording in a 
 journal ? 
 
 I do not deny that the duties which pertain to 
 house-keeping are somewhat monotonous ; but so 
 are those which pertain to almost every other 
 occupation or profession. Much of the monotony, 
 however, is owing to a monotonous state of the 
 mind. Few persons are as thoroughly imbued as 
 they should be with the spirit of improvement. ‘Too 
 many look upon the stream of life, as it passes, to 
 be still the same ; whereas it ought to be regarded 
 
 as ever fresh, and new, and varying. 
 
716 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 Let a house-keeper be but once thoroughly filled 
 with the desire of improvement in her calling— 
 Jet her carefully observe every process to which, 
 in the discharge of her numerous duties, she is 
 called—let her observe her failures in everything, 
 “no matter how small—and let her strive, from day 
 to day, to do, in everything, what Paul the apostle 
 requires, when he says, “do all to the glory of 
 God,”—let her possess this spirit, 1 say, and I 
 have no doubt she will find materials enough for a 
 journal. 
 
 Her journal may be kept in the simplest manner 
 It is not necessary to observe any particular form. 
 All that I would ask is neatness and sense. I 
 would not make blots or write nonsense. I would 
 recall once a day, or oftener if it were preferred, 
 the events of the day—the failures and the suc- 
 cesses In cookery and other.duties ; the misgivings 
 or painful reflections ; the bright and joyful thoughts 
 that had been indulged; the hopes entertained ; 
 the new facts acquired ; the new principles estab- 
 lished ; the names and character of persons who 
 called ; and, in short, everything that it would be 
 rational to recount to an intimate friend, as a hus- 
 band or mother, in case an attempt were making 
 to give to one of these relatives an account of the 
 day, with its most minute details and trifling oc- 
 currences, 
 
KEEPING A JOURNAL. 17 
 
 No house-keeper finds any sort of difficulty in 
 relating the events of a day to an intimate friend. 
 She will not fail to recount, with fluency, her 
 errors, as well as her successes. Why then should 
 it be more difficult to write them? And yet we all 
 know it is. The truth is, we forget that writing 
 should be just like good and correct conversation ; 
 and conversation should be like writing, only un- 
 written; that, in short, we should have but one 
 language for both. Leet this difficulty be but ban- 
 ished, and there is no person fit to be a house- 
 keeper, who would not have abundant materials for 
 a journal, nor any one who would not find herself 
 greatly benefited by the record. 
 
 You will ask me, perhaps, to give you an ex- 
 ample of such a record. ut this I deem it unne- 
 cessary to do—unnecessary even for you. ‘Time 
 and experience will direct you properly. The 
 great thing is to begin. If 1 can succeed in moving 
 you to tbis, I shall have gained my point. I do 
 not believe there are many persons in the world, 
 who have really become possessed of the true spirit 
 of improvement, and who have adopted a plan in 
 house-keeping which gives them tame for the em- 
 ployment, who, having once begun to keep a 
 journal, and tasted its sweets, would not continue 
 it. What if there was little to say at first? It is 
 something to say that. When the hour assigned 
 
78 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 for making the record came, you would not hesitate 
 to tell a friend you had nothing to say in it. ‘Then 
 why not put it down with the pen? You would 
 not hesitate to say much more than this to a 
 living. friend. ‘Then why not place that, too, in 
 the journal? ‘This is nature’s simple way. By 
 and by you will not want for facts, observations and 
 reflections. The journal itself—educating you— 
 will seem to elicit them. 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 NATURE OF FOOD IN GENERAL. 
 
 In what sense man is omnivorous. Mana free agent. Ani« 
 mal food. Nutritious character of food. Table of nutri- 
 tious substances. Second table, from the French. Infe- 
 rences from these tables. Proofs of the inferior nutritive 
 powers of lean meat. Three great divisions of aliments. 
 The grand object of all food. 
 
 Man has the power of deriving nourishment 
 from almost every substance, both of the animal 
 and the vegetable kingdoms of nature. A good 
 education and temperate habits, will enable him 
 not merely to subsist, but to enjoy a measure of 
 health, and attain a degree of longevity, in almost 
 every clime, and in the use of almost every kind 
 of food, drink, &c. By this, however, is meant, 
 that his stomach and digestive system are ‘so “ ac- 
 commodating,” that he can acquire the capacity-of 
 digesting, and to some extent, of assimilating— 
 changing into blood, flesh, bones, &c.—not only 
 flesh, fish, oil and blood, but almost all sorts of 
 grain, seeds, nuts, roots, herbs, and even the bark 
 
80 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 of trees. In this sense, but it is in this sense 
 alone, he may be justly said to be omnivorous. 
 
 But because he can swbszst on all things, does it 
 therefore follow that he must eat all things? In 
 morals, character of some sort may indeed be 
 formed under the worst examples and the worst 
 influences; and so in matters which pertain to 
 intellectual improvement, the mind may be fed and 
 indeed may grow, by reading books of the most 
 inferior character ; but does it therefore follow that 
 no choice is to be exercised? Because we can 
 eat all things—morally and mentally—must we 
 therefore do it? And so in physical matters, and 
 especially in the matter of eating and drinking, 
 because we can digest all things, must we there- 
 fore eat all things? For what purpose, then, is 
 man a free agent? Why has the Creator delegated 
 to him the right of choice? 
 
 That man has the power of choice, is a posi- 
 tion which will not probably be controverted. 
 That the Creator had an object or end in view in 
 
 giving him this right of choice, is at least equally — 
 
 true. But do we conform to his purposes—do we 
 execute his will and accomplish his ends—when 
 we refuse to exercise it in regard to the selection 
 of our food? Or are we to use our power of 
 choice in regard to the company we keep and the 
 books we read, and yet eat and drink at hap- 
 
NATURE OF FOOD IN GENERAL. 81 
 
 hazard, guided by no rules—except, perhaps, to 
 eat and drink everything we can—and exercising 
 not the right of selection ? 
 
 With this view—and I believe it to be a fair 
 one—how strange is the conclusion, that because 
 man can eat animal food and derive nourishment 
 and even enjoy a measure of health from it, there- 
 fore he must use it! 
 
 I know it is attempted to fortify this argument 
 by talking about the necessity of eating flesh or 
 fish in order to get azote into the system ; because 
 we have four teeth in thirty-two which slightly 
 resemble those of carnivorous animals; and be- 
 cause the structure of our intestines has been sup- 
 posed to be midway between those of the animals 
 that feed on flesh and those that feed on vegetable 
 substances. But we forget that the ox and the 
 horse, that eat no flesh, require azote as much as 
 man. Now how are they to get it? Must. they 
 eat meat? As to the teeth, it is also well known 
 that our teeth most resemble those of the ourang 
 outang, who feeds on fruits and seeds. And as to 
 the intestines, it is found out, of late, that the struc- 
 ture of these, so far as we can argue anything from 
 it, is in favor of vegetable eating, entirely. 
 
 These old arguments are now generally given 
 up. Lawrence, Cuvier and Lambe, in Europe, 
 
 and a large number of the physicians of this coun- 
 6 
 
82 “THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 try, do not hesitate to admit, that human health 
 may be perfect, and life be sustained as long as it 
 now is, in the exclusive use of good vegetable food, 
 in almost every climate. We want no farther 
 concessions. Admit but this; let it be granted 
 that the physical welfare of man will not suffer _ 
 from the exclusive use of vegetable food, and vee . 
 are satisfied—nay, driven—in view of its moral 
 and intellectual benefits, to adopt it without delay. 
 
 ‘The moral and social advantages of living on fari- 
 
 
 
 naceous vegetables and fruits, it is believed, have 
 never been enough considered. 
 
 It is not my imtention, in this work and in this 
 place, to go deeply into the argument in favor of 
 a vegetable and fruit diet. The foregoing con- 
 siderations, with the few that follow, are all that 
 my present limits will admit. ‘These being pre- 
 mised, I shall take for granted the superiority of 
 vegetable food, and proceed on that principle. 
 
 It is almost constantly said and believed, that 
 our stomachs require a greater quantity of vegeta- 
 ble than of animal food, because the former is less 
 nutritious ; whereas, it is the reverse. Rice, and 
 nearly or quite every form of bread, peas, beans, 
 and many more vegetable substances, are much 
 more nutritious than beef steak or any kind of 
 lean meat or fish with which I am at present ac- 
 quainted, 
 
NATURE OF FOOD IN GENERAL. 83 
 
 The following table, derived from chemical 
 analysis, shows the relative proportion of nutritious 
 matter in some of the more common substances 
 used as human food : 
 
 100 lbs. Wheat contain 85 lbs. nutritious matter. 
 
 6c Rice 6é SO 66 66 
 66 Rye 6é 80 66 6c 
 6é Barley 66 83 6é 74 
 “ Beans «“ 89 to92  « « 
 (79 Peas “cc 93 “cc ce 
 - Lentils, ee 94 . ve 
 ‘¢ —s Meat, (average) 35 te ‘ 
 re Potatoes i 25 6 if 
 és Beets 6 14 73 6 
 me Carrots - 10 pi i, 
 ce Cabbage 6é a ce 6c 
 6é Greens & 6 6 6é 
 6é Turnips Cy ee 4 ee “ 
 
 Of course the proportion of nutritious supstance 
 will vary somewhat according to the variety or 
 species of the article, as well as the quality of 
 the soil; but this is believed to be, in general, a 
 fair estimate. ‘I'he following recent estimate, de-— 
 rived from the Encyclopedia Americana, accords 
 _ very nearly with the preceding. It is the result 
 of a series of experiments made by Messrs. Percy 
 and Vauquelin—men of the highest learning and 
 research—and communicated by them to the 
 French minister of the interior : 
 
84 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 100 lbs. Bread contain _— 80 Ibs. nutrit. matter. 
 Meat, (average) ‘“ 35 sf 
 6c French beans ee 92 i ig 
 “ Broad beans 3 89 * ag 
 6c Peas (19 93 (79 bc 
 “¢ Lentils id 94 ef 6 
 6 Potatoes 66 25 se a 
 “6 Carrots ¢ 14 ‘“ ee 
 ui Greens and Turnips 8 st ve 
 
 Hence it follows, say Messrs. Percy and Vau- 
 quelin, that one pound of good bread is equal, in 
 point of real nutriment, to two and a half pounds 
 of potatoes; and seventy-five pounds of bread 
 and forty of meat—one hundred and fifteen of 
 both—are nearly equal to three hundred pounds of 
 potatoes. Half a pound of bread and five ounces 
 of meat are equal to three pounds of potatoes. 
 One pound of potatoes is equal to four pounds 
 of cabbage or three of turnips. And one pound 
 of rice bread, they say, is equal to three pounds 
 of potatoes. ‘To which we may add, that it is obvie 
 ous from both tables, that all sorts of bread contain 
 mére than twice as much nutriment in the pound 
 as butcher’s meat; and rice, peas and beans almost 
 three times as much. 
 
 But what then becomes of the old theory of 
 physicians. and others, that vegetables are less 
 nutritious than meat? I reply that I do not know. 
 I will only say, here, that by vegetables they often 
 
 
 
) Be 
 
 NATURE OF FOOD IN GENERAL. 85 
 
 : ; * 
 
 meant green or crude vegetables, such as celery 
 and other salads, cabbage, turnips, beets, aspara- 
 gus, potatoes, and green fruits. Few persons, . 
 learned or unlearned, in conversation or in books, 
 when they spoke of vegetable food, ever thought 
 of bread or rice. Yet these it is, and the other 
 farinacea, on which the vegetable eater principally 
 depends. What have usually been meant by 
 vegetables, are, perhaps, the potatoe and sweet 
 apple not excepted, rather less nutritious—or at 
 least not more so, the best of them—than meat ; 
 nor would their exclusive use, unless it were the 
 apple and the potatoe, be so well calculated to 
 sustain the mind and body in the best state, as 
 those which contain more nutriment, or even as 
 lean meat. 
 
 That fat meat contains more nutriment than 
 almost anything else I am not disposed to deny ; 
 but that the stomach can extract a large proportion 
 of its nutriment, is more doubtful. My belief is, 
 that where we are trained to the use of much fat, 
 the stomach acquires the power of digesting a 
 small portion of it—enough, at least, to sustain a 
 measure of health and longevity ; but that it is a 
 process so contrary to the best intentions of nature 
 respecting us, that it is done at 4 very great—and 
 in our climate unnecessary—expenditure of vital 
 power. ‘The poor Greenlanders and Esquimaux, 
 
ee 
 86 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 though apparently driven to the necessity of sub- 
 sisting chiefly on fat, maintain but a miserable 
 existence on it; nor is that existence very long. 
 In our own more temperate climate, the system 
 finds great difficulty in digesting oil, even where 
 we have been early trained to it; and in tropical 
 climates a greater difficulty still. ys 
 
 I have spoken of fat and its intrinsic nutritive 
 qualities ; but it is seldom that it is eaten in solid 
 masses among us. And even when it is, it is but 
 seldom digested. Of the pieces commonly pro- 
 cured of butchers and in the market, the far greater 
 part is principally lean, with only a little fat inter- 
 mixed. 
 
 Some of the abler I*rench chemists have con- 
 cluded, from experiment, that pure fat contains 
 four times as much nutriment as the leanest portion 
 of muscle, or what is commonly called lean meat. 
 Now as the fat, if it were pure nutriment, could 
 only contain a hundred per cent of nutritious mat- 
 ter, it would seem to follow that the leanest meats 
 contain but twenty-five per cent. 
 
 The truth, as I suppose, is, that lean meats, as 
 they commonly present themselves to us before 
 they are cooked, mixed with more or less of fat, 
 contain from twénty-five to fifty per cent of nutri- 
 ment. But if we look at the tables, we find that 
 even allowing the best beef steak to contain fifty 
 
 
 
+ 
 
 * 
 
 NATURE OF FOOD IN GENERAL. 87 
 
 per cent of nutritious matter, rice would be nearly 
 twice as high in the scale of nutriment; and 
 wheat and corn would, in this respect, fall but a 
 little behind rice. Peas and beans are also about 
 twice as nutritious as the best of lean meats; and 
 even potatoes, if good, contain twenty-five per 
 
 cent of nutriment. So that he who eats rice, 
 
 bread, puddings, &c., should eat less by weight 
 than of animal food, instead of more. It does not 
 alter this fact, that vegetable eaters often claim an 
 indulgence on this ground, in regard to quantity ; 
 it only shows their ignorance, or their slavery to 
 their appetites. 
 
 It is quite true that an unnecessary mass, even 
 of pure nutriment, lying inactive in the stomach, 
 would produce considerable disturbance in the 
 animal economy. Still, it would not be so great 
 as that which is produced by a smaller quantity 
 of food which is much more stimulating in its ten- 
 dency. 
 
 We are so much accustomed to eating and 
 drinking for the sake of the immediate stimulus 
 and momentary strength we obtain by it, that we 
 are apt to feel unsatisfied when we eat and drink 
 that which does not produce these effects in a very 
 sensible degree. Now flesh and fish, and high 
 seasoned food, and fermented and alcoholic drinks, 
 by the immediate effect they produce on the 
 
- 
 
 88 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 nerves of the stomach, and through them on the 
 brain and nervous system generally, excite us 
 much more than mild and bland substances ; and 
 give us, for-a short time, unless the quantity be 
 excessive, much more mental and bodily strength 
 and activity. But rice and bread, and other more — 
 
 nutritive though more simple substances, produce — 
 
 no such increase of. heat and strength, and do not, 
 therefore, so immediately satisfy us; and as their 
 presence, in too large a quantity in the stomach, 
 does not immediately produce any remarkable or 
 sensible disturbance, we eat on, looking in vain for 
 the feelings we are accustomed to receive from food 
 and drink which are more exciting. And thus it is, 
 at least in part, that the notion has originated that 
 these bland substances are not so nutritious as flesh 
 and fish. ‘The very fact which should prove their 
 comparative excellence and adaptation to the hu- 
 man stomach and the whole system, has thus been 
 construed into a proof of their insufficient nutritive 
 powers. , | 
 There-are three great divisions of human ali- 
 ments. The first and most important—the primary 
 division—is the farinaceous or mealy vevetables. 
 These, whenever they can be obtained in a perfect 
 state, are to the healthy who are trained to their 
 use, best adapted to human wants and human 
 sustenance, in every climate and under every pos- 
 
 
 
NATURE OF FOOD IN GENERAL. 89 
 
 sible circumstance. I mean, that if we were to be 
 confined to either of the three divisions I have 
 named, this would be the best and safest. ‘The 
 second grand division is the fruits. These are 
 principally designed for the hot or warm season. 
 These two grand divisions—suitably combined— 
 constitute the most appropriate food of man. ‘They 
 are his natural food, if he has any natural food 
 at all. Animal food—the third grand division— 
 is admissible in certain circumstances and con- 
 ditions, national and individual; national, as in 
 the case of the Greenlanders or the Esquimaux, 
 who cannot always get food which is better—indi- 
 vidual, as in the young infant or in certain diseased 
 states of body, as in diabetes, or perhaps a few 
 eases of scrofula or dyspepsia. Even if there are 
 a few among us who call themselves healthy, but 
 who cannot or fancy they cannot, on account of 
 long established habits, at once quit the use of ani- 
 mal food, their condition is most properly regarded 
 as a diseased condition. 
 
 I have said little of drinks in this place, because 
 in the first place, 1 hold there is but one proper 
 drink in the world, viz., water; and in the second 
 place, because I shall speak on this subject, inci- 
 dentally, in other chapters. 
 
 There is one more thought which I wish to 
 present to the reader before I pass to the con- 
 
90 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 sideration of particular kinds of food, and the. 
 methods of preparing them. As the object of all 
 food is to nourish, and sustain, and render useful 
 and happy the whole man—compounded as he is, 
 of body, mind and heart—and not merely to give 
 him pleasure in eating, or make him a better animal 
 merely ; so this is the legitimate object, not only 
 of each grand division of food, but of each par- 
 ticular article. ‘The grand question, in short, is, 
 What are the kinds of food which are best for 
 healthy persons—best for their whole being, here 
 and hereafter? We have no moral right to use 
 anything short of the best, when we know what 
 that best is, and can as well have it as that which 
 is but second best. We have no more right in 
 physical than in moral matters, to slumber on 
 doubtful ground. We are to do good even by our 
 eating and drinking; and not merely to do good, 
 but do the most good in our power. 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 FARINACEOUS FOOD. 
 
 Primary aliments. Secondary aliments. Substitutes. The 
 following part of the work a vocabulary. General plan 
 Its contents. j 
 
 Ir has been already observed, that the farina 
 ceous or mealy vegetables constitute the first and 
 best division of human aliments. ‘They may be 
 regarded as primary—and the fruits secondary 
 Animal food, except to the infant or the savage, 
 and in a few other cases and circumstances, is only 
 a substitute for food which is better. ‘The infant 
 is trained to the farinacea, as.soon as he can be; 
 and the savage adopts this class of aliments as soon 
 as he becomes civilized. 
 
 This primary class of aliments, in one way or 
 another, forms—and indeed always has formed— 
 the principal food of the majority of the human 
 race. Rice, and pulse, and the various forms of 
 grain—wheat, rye, barley, oats and Indian com— 
 are the means of forming, and, I repeat the idea, 
 ever have been the means of forming the great 
 
92 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 mass of blood which has flowed in human veins, 
 and from which has been formed the mass of the 
 human solids and fluids, ever since time began. I 
 know this is not the general belief; but it is not, 
 therefore, the less true. ‘The Japanese, by tens 
 of millions, live chiefly on rice; and so do the 
 Chinese, and Hindoos, and Burmans, by their 
 hundreds of millions. ‘The tens of millions of 
 middle Africa, and of southern and middle’ Europe, 
 and even a part of the population of South 
 America, live on rice, grain, roots and fruits. ‘True, 
 they are often compelled to do so, from stern 
 necessity, or some other cause; but this does not 
 alter the facts. Meat is sometimes used, but it is 
 often as a condiment, and only assumes the rank 
 of a principal food, (with the exception, perhaps, 
 of the United States and one or two more coun- 
 tries of moderate population,) among the uncivilized 
 or among the rich and luxurious; and its conse- 
 quences to these two classes of men are most 
 obvious. If it enervates the individual but slowly, 
 it does so, therefore, the more surely ; and what 
 injures slowly the character of individuals, sinks 
 rapidly the nation which is composed of ‘those 
 individuals. 
 
 In treating of the farinacea, it has been my 
 object to present just that kind of imformation 
 which would be valuable to a house-keeper, from 
 
FARINACEOUS FOOD. 93 
 
 day to day, as a vocabulary. In connection, there- 
 fore, with almost every substantial article of food, 
 as wheat, or rice, or potatoes, I have introduced 
 more or less of dietetic principles and facts, to 
 which I solicit particular attention. I believe that 
 this method of instruction—this combination of the 
 various topics connected with food—is the very 
 best popular way of presenting the subject which 
 can possibly be adopted. 
 
 It was my original purpose to place the articles 
 in the order of their value; I mean in the order 
 of their value in my own estimation. ‘Thus I-have 
 placed wheat first, which I deemed the most valu- 
 able article of human diet, corn next, rye next, 
 and so on. I have not, however, in every instance, 
 followed out my plan exactly ; but the deviations 
 from it are neither very wide nor very important. 
 I also intended, originally, to treat of each article at 
 a length which was somewhat in proportion to its 
 usefulness as a part of our diet; but here my 
 deviations have been much more frequent than in 
 the former case. Again; this first class of ali- 
 ments is made to include some substances which 
 cannot, in philosophical strictness of language, be 
 called farinaceous ; but their number is not con- 
 siderable. Lastly, I have not included in it 
 every article, even of the class of farinacea, which 
 has been used for food, but only some of the 
 
94 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 most important, and those with which I am ac- 
 quainted. | 
 
 The substances considered in this primary class 
 of aliments—the farinacea—are wheat, Indian 
 corn, rye, rice, barley, oats, potatoes, beans, peas, 
 buckwheat, millet, beets, carrots, parsnips, turnips, 
 onions, radishes, squashes, pumpkins, gourds, cab- 
 bages, lettuce, tomatoes, greens, celery, arrowroot, 
 tapioca, salep and mushrooms. 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 FOOD FROM WHEAT. 
 
 Remarks on Wheat in general. Bread. Why wheat meal 
 should not be bolted. Unfermented cakes. Loaf bread. 
 Mixed bread. Crackers, biscuit, &c. Bread pudding. 
 Boiled wheat. Toast, &c. Bread and milk. Bread and 
 butter. Pastry. Gingerbread. Flour puddings. Bread 
 and fruits. Potatoe bread. 
 
 Amone all civilized nations, and not a few 
 savage ones, bread constitutes a staple article of 
 food. When I say this, however, I must do it 
 with many limitations and some qualifications. 
 Bread is a staple article of diet in theory, rather 
 than in practice. There are few who are truly 
 fond of bread in its simplest, most pure, and most 
 healthful state. ‘The concession that it is the 
 “ staff of life,” is indeed generally made; but the 
 belief is but “skin deep.” People generally keep 
 it about them as they do truth, and pretend to 
 regard it as a staple; and many, doubtless, never 
 dream that the fact is otherwise; but, as with 
 truth so with bread, notwithstanding our conces- 
 sions, direct and indirect, in its favor, many seem 
 
96 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 to avoid it as much as conveniently they can. Is 
 there one person in a thousand who would truly 
 enjoy a meal of simple bread of two days old? . 
 
 Bread, however, should be a staple in practice 
 as well as in theory. As the class of farinaceous 
 vegetables and the fruits are the best articles of 
 human diet, so of the various kinds of the farinacea, 
 though all of them are excellent, | regard wheat 
 as, on the whole, far superior to every other. By 
 this I mean, that if mankind were to be confined 
 for a term of years, or for life, to any one article, 
 health would be best. promoted, and the greatest 
 degree of longevity attained, by the use of wheat. 
 
 The great change which is produced during the 
 application of heat to the paste or dough, formed 
 from farimaceous substances, in my view, some- 
 what improves its qualities. ‘This change consists, 
 in part, in transforming a portion of the farina or 
 farinaceous matter into saccharine matter or sugar ; 
 though in some respects the nature of the change 
 is not so well understood as its effects. 
 
 The following points I regard as settled —1. That 
 bread, whether from wheat or any other grain, is 
 not only more favorable to mastication, and thus 
 more healthy, but also more favorable to health 
 independent of mastication, than the simple grain 
 uncooked. 2. That all grain should be raised on 
 a good and proper soil, and without too much art 
 
FOOD FROM WHEAT. 97 
 
 ficial heat or prompting, by manures or otherwise. 
 3. That it should be properly cleaned, both by 
 winnowing and washing. 4. That it should be 
 ground properly. 
 
 The proper modes of cultivating grain cannot 
 be discussed here. Of the method of cleaning it, 
 I need only say, that it should always be washed, 
 as a last process; and afterwards dried as well as 
 possible, in the open air or sunshine. 
 
 Of grinding wheat, more needs to be said, 
 because on this subject there is a great deal of 
 error abroad. ‘There has long been a very exten- 
 sive belief in the community, that the finer it is 
 ground, and the more nicely the bran is separated 
 from the flour and rejected, the better. I object 
 to grinding wheat or any other grain in the fashion- 
 able manner, for the following reasons : 
 
 1. The sweetness of the wheat is in part de- 
 stroyed by it. Every unprejudiced individual, let 
 him complain ever so much of its scratching his 
 throat, will tell us that bread made of the unbolted 
 meal is sweeter than fine flour bread. But whence 
 is itso? I believe that the friction and heat pro- 
 duced by the grinding process is injurious. Richer- 
 and, in his Physiology, assures us that loaf sugar, 
 in being brought to a very fine powder by means 
 of a file or rasp, is reduced, in some measure, to 
 
 the state of starch; that is, loses. a part of its 
 i 
 
98 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 sweetness. I have also tested. the truth of this 
 statement by experiment. Now the heat and 
 friction of the mill-stones, laid. close together as 
 they are in grinding fine flour, appear to me to 
 reduce the flour to a state in which it is more 
 insipid and lifeless than.it would be in other cir- 
 cumstances, and thus to render it not only less 
 palatable, but Jess wholesome. Indeed, that which 
 is less palatable, other things being equal, is always 
 less wholesome, even if there were nothing else 
 about it-to render it objectionable. - 7 
 2. Wheat ground very finely has a less favor- 
 able action on the intestines than that which is 
 coarser. ‘The retention of every part of the sub- 
 stance of the wheat is also believed to be favor- 
 able. Divine Providence seems to have ordained 
 that the skin of the smaller grains, properly broken, 
 should be taken with the rest, to facilitate intestinal 
 action. Not that fine flour promotes costiveness, 
 exactly ; but only that it does not act on the lining 
 membrane of the intestines with sufficient energy. 
 3. Fine flour is too nutritious. Jf there be a 
 fact in dietetics which is established beyond the 
 possibility of a reasonable doubt, it is that health 
 and longevity are best promoted by the combina- 
 tion, in our diet, of a portion of innutritious matter 
 with that which is purely nutrient. Even Sir Gilbert 
 Blane, who on a point like this will be among the 
 
FOOD FROM WHEAT. © 99 
 
 last to be suspected of heresy, says—‘ Plain solid 
 food, combined with a certain proportion of unas- 
 similable matter, is infinitely more efficient for the 
 purposes of health and strength, than that which 
 consists of pure elementary matter.” 
 
 These three reasons—to say nothing of any 
 others—are amply sufficient, in my own view, to 
 establish the principle that grain should be ground 
 coarsely. How coarsely, has not, that I know, 
 been determined. Perhaps that which is commonly 
 sold in, the market under the name of dyspepsia 
 flour, is rather too fine. I think that if it were 
 somewhat coarser it would be better relished and 
 preferred, just as the coarsest ground corn is ; and I 
 also believe it would be rather more wholesome. It 
 is true, that the finer it is ground the lighter loaves 
 it makes ; but they are not, therefore, the sweeter. 
 If every family cround it for themselves, in hand- 
 mills of a proper construction, they might grind 
 it more or less coarsely, as suited their own tastes, 
 or their own notions of health or fitness. 
 
 But suppose we have the meal duly ground. 
 How. shall it be preserved? This is an important 
 point, though it is generally overlooked. Few 
 persons seem to consider that all meal or flour can 
 be injured by standing where it is exposed to damp 
 or unwholesome air, or an atmosphere filled with 
 noisome exhalations. Whiereas, it ought always to 
 
100 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 be kept in a dry, cool, sweet place, in a perfectly 
 dry and clean vessel, and covered. 
 
 ~ Meal is sometimes kept in almost any other 
 condition than in such a state as I have recom- 
 mended, as many a house-keeper—and not a 
 few rats and mice, had they vocal organs—could 
 abundantly testify. If every family would grind 
 their own meal, as suggested in the last paragraph, 
 they would not only have sweeter and richer bread, 
 but would be less troubled about preserving it ; as 
 only a small quantity would probably be ground at 
 a time, and it would soon be consumed. 
 
 We come now to the consideration of particu- 
 
 lar kinds of wheat bread. 
 
 UnrermMentep Caxes.—My opinion is, that the 
 best bread in the world ts that which is made of 
 recently and coarsely ground wheat meal, mixed 
 with water, and baked in thin cakes, not unlike 
 the unfermented cakes so common in many parts of 
 the east, and so much used by the ancient Israel- 
 ites. My preference for unleavened bread arises, in 
 part, from the consideration that leaven is a foreign 
 and partially decayed substance, which it were 
 better to avoid unless some essential point is to be 
 gained by its use. 1 know, indeed, that as used in 
 many families, it is comparatively cleanly ; but it is 
 not always so, even there; and in cities, and in 
 
FOOD FROM WHEAT. 101 
 
 the neighborhood of breweries and distilleries, a 
 kind of yeast is often used to which most persons 
 would object if they were better acquainted with 
 facts. It cannot be said of such yeast, as is 
 usually said of filthy cider, that the dirt ‘“ works 
 out,” (though even the latter is not true,) for it is 
 incorporated with the bread, and eaten with it. 
 
 But the strongest objection to fermentation is, 
 that it is one step in the progress of decay. Vege- 
 table substances, it is well known, in their progress 
 to entire putrefaction, usually pass through several 
 stages or fermentations ; the first of which is the 
 saccharine, or that in which sugar is evolved; the 
 second, the vinous, or that which produces alco- 
 hol; and the third, the acetous. Or if the sac- 
 charine or sugary change should not be regarded 
 as a fermentation, and if the first fermentation, in the 
 case of bread, were regarded as the vinous, still this 
 is a fermentation, and is one step towards decay. 
 Now can those substances be as wholesome, which 
 have gone part of the way from a pure and perfect 
 state to putrefaction, as those which remain in the 
 highest state of perfection ? 
 
 It is on this ground, chiefly, that I maintain the 
 importance of using unfermented bread. It is 
 true, as Mr. Graham says, in his “ Treatise on 
 Bread,” that “ there are many other considerations 
 why unleavened bread of a proper quality and 
 
102 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 age, is better adapted to sustain the alimentary 
 organs and general constitution of man, in their 
 highest and best condition,” besides the considera- 
 tion of the changes induced by fermentation ; but 
 then I conceive, as probably he does, that the 
 latter is the more prominent.* Some might urge 
 the economy of unfermented bread, as it is well 
 known that most persons eat one quarter, or at 
 least one fifth more of fermented than of unfer- 
 mented bread, provided both are a day or two old, 
 as they ought to be; but to this it may be.replied, 
 that the saving in this way is nearly counterbal- 
 anced by the increased expenditure of time and 
 fuel in cooking unfermented cakes. 
 
 Loar Breap.—When to the last circumstance 
 is added the consideration, that ‘loaf or raised 
 bread can be made so nearly in accordance with 
 the vital laws and interests of our bodies, as 
 scarcely to militate against them in any apprecia- 
 ble degree,” it may be questioned whether, on the 
 whole, loaf bread ought not to’ be considered as 
 the most proper bread for the mass of mankind. I 
 believe, indeed, that there should be, and in the . 
 
 * Even Dr. Dunglison expressly says—‘ Bread prepared 
 without leaven agrees better with the stomach than the fer- 
 mented.” Dr. Paris’s opinion, to the same effect, is i given . 
 in another place. 
 
‘FOOD FROM WHEAT. 103 
 
 nature of things 2s, time enough for doing every- 
 thing, by human beings, which ought to be done ; 
 but then, such is the present distorted state of 
 society, that it would be quite a tax upon the 
 poorer class to be compelled to bake all their bread 
 in thin cakes, especially where they use fireplaces. 
 With cooking stoves it is often much more con- 
 venient ; and if it requires more time and attention 
 than baking in an oven, it also requires less fuel, 
 since the cakes may be baked when the space in 
 the stove would be wanted for nothing else, and 
 with about the same quantity of fuel as would be 
 required were no cooking going on. 
 
 In order, however, to have perfect loaf bread, 
 the material must be perfect, the dough must be in 
 a proper condition, the loaves must be set in the 
 oven at precisely the right moment, and must be 
 properly and thoroughly baked; and when per- 
 fectly baked, must be kept in the right place. On 
 all these points the author of the Treatise on 
 Bread already alluded ‘to, has spoken so well and 
 at such leneth, that I hardly need to say any- 
 thing except for the benefit of such as have not 
 seen that work. And even to the last class it is 
 not necessary to say much. 
 
 The kneading should be so perfect that every 
 particle of the mass should come in contact with 
 more or less of the particles of the yeast, as well 
 
104 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 as of the water or milk used. It is customary, 
 with many housewives, to mix the yeast and water 
 with the dough, principally by stirrmg it; and to 
 omit almost entirely the kneading. But this is 
 wrong. No process has, as yet, been invented 
 which can be substituted for the kneading process, 
 without rendering the bread less perfect. The 
 mass will be uneven; in some places it will be 
 extremely light and porous, in others there will be 
 hard or glutinous portions; and the whole will 
 sooner become sour. ‘The more thoroughly and 
 perfectly bread is kneaded, the more equal will be 
 its appearance throughout, and the easier will it be 
 to preserve it from acidity. 
 
 One word in regard to the proper time for 
 placing bread in the oven. This is to be done 
 when it is raised or swelled to what appears to be 
 about the extent to which this swelling will go; 
 but if it stand too long, we lose much of the sac- 
 charine substance. ‘The grand point is—I repeat 
 it—to place it in the oven at the precise moment 
 _ when it is at the height of the vinous fermentation. 
 If delayed till the acetous fermentation begins—of 
 which there is always great danger—it will not 
 only be less pleasant to the taste, but less rich and 
 nutritive ; and though a little saleratus or carbonate 
 of soda may restore its lightness, it cannot restore 
 the saccharine matter which has unnecessarily 
 
FOOD FROM WHEAT. 105 
 
 been changed into alcohol and carbonic acid, and 
 has escaped, nor wholly remove the ill effects of the 
 acetic acid. Better by far that the loaves should be 
 set in the oven a little too early than too late. The 
 latter is the condition of most of our bakers’ bread. 
 In order to have it spongy and porous, they suffer 
 it to rise much ; and in order to correct the begin- 
 nings of acidity, as well as make it rise still more 
 than it naturally would, they add substances which, 
 if they are not actually poisonous, are at least 
 injurious to the tone of the stomach. 
 
 Most house-keepers who have been unaccus- 
 tomed to making bread of wheat meal, are not apt 
 to have their ovens hot enough at first. Bread of 
 this kind appears to require a hotter oven than 
 bread made of fine flour. Buta little observation 
 and a few trials are all that are necessary to suc- 
 cess, if the house-keeper have common sense, and 
 if she have one more qualification, without which all 
 else is comparatively of little avail—I mean, a love 
 for the employment, and a love for her husband 
 and family. No person who is a mother, who has 
 a strong desire to promote her own personal im- 
 provement, and the improvement and happiness 
 of her husband and family, and who has but a faint 
 conception of the importance, in this view, of hav- 
 ing good bread, can fail of becoming, in a reasona- 
 ble time, mistress of this first and most important 
 
: 
 106 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 branch of housewifery. All other. persons—ba- 
 kers by profession, hirelings and domestics—may 
 fail of success; and so may some who bear’ the 
 name of mothers, sisters or daughters. But no 
 true mother, daughter or sister, who is at the same 
 time correctly informed in regard to the influence 
 of this article of food on human health and happi- 
 ness, and on whom devolves the responsibility, can 
 long remain ignorant of bread-making. » 
 
 It is rather more difficult. to make loaf bread, at 
 least of the coarse or unbolted meal, than to make 
 the unleavened cakes which I have described 
 above. ‘There are, however, several ways of 
 making the latter. The most common way has 
 been to bake them in thin wafers; and it is when 
 they are baked in this way that they cost so much 
 labor. By means of a stove, unleavened cakes 
 may be made very thick, with almost as little care 
 and labor, all things considered, as the common 
 loaf bread. | 
 
 Loaf bread, properly made, and duly preserved, 
 will be nearly as good at the end of eight or ten 
 days, as on the second day. I have even seen it 
 in tolerable perfection on the twelfth or fourteenth 
 day. It is best, however, from the second to the 
 eighth. To have it sweet and delicious a fortnight, 
 it must not be kept in a closet or pantry, ‘* where 
 you set away dishes of cold meat, cold potatoes 
 
FOOD FROM WHEAT. 107 
 
 and other vegetables,’ and butter, cheese, &c. ; 
 nor in a damp filthy cellar, in the neighbor- 
 hood of half putrid cabbage leaves, potatoes, 
 apples, &c. I have seen bread kept, for many a 
 day, in a damp, dirty cellar, on shelves thick cov- 
 ered with grease and dirt, to which neither soap 
 nor water—no, nor even pure air nor the light of 
 day—had been applied in a whole year. This 
 will never do, for those who mean to consult 
 health, or—I had almost said—decency. A neat, 
 clean, airy, light room, is as indispensable for 
 bread, as for company, clothes or bedding. I have 
 known Joaves of bread to imbibe the foul gases 
 of the filthy places where they were kept, till the 
 unimpaired sense of smell could detect their pres- 
 ence after the bread had been removed to the 
 breakfast table. 
 
 HovusrHoip Breap.—Next to unleavened cakes 
 and loaf bread made of unbolted meal, I am 
 inclined to place that form of wheaten bread which 
 is prepared from the same meal, with the coarser 
 parts separated by means of a sieve. The prepar- 
 ation of this form of bread requires an attention to 
 the same rules which I have laid down in the 
 preceding paragraphs. | It is, I confess; inferior co 
 the former; but is much used in England. |. 
 
108 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 Mixep Breap.—Many forms of excellent bread 
 may be made by mixing unbolted wheat meal 
 with rye meal, Indian meal, barley flour, rice flour, 
 pea meal, potatoes, &c. The best of all these 
 forms appears to me to be an admixture of wheat 
 and Indian, in the proportion of two thirds wheat 
 and one third Indian. Whether in the form of 
 loaves or unleavened cakes, wafers or biscuits, this 
 mixture forms one of the most palatable, and next 
 to those | have mentioned above, one of the most 
 wholesome kinds of bréad in the world. A much 
 smaller proportion of wheat with more Indian meal 
 will, however, make most excellent bread ; and so 
 will wheat meal and rye meal, wheat meal and 
 barley, &c., mixed in many and various propor- 
 tions. 
 
 Crackers, Biscuit, &c.—There are various 
 forms of crackers and biscuits found in our bakers’ 
 shops, now-a-days, prepared from unbolted wheat 
 meal; most of which, though inferior to bread, are 
 nevertheless comparatively wholesome. Ship or 
 pilot bread, made of fine flour, is on the whole a 
 tolerable sort of bread; nor have I as strong a 
 dislike to bread made of fine wheat flour, when of 
 suitable age, as many appear to have. It is much 
 worse eaten hot or with butter than coarse bread ; 
 
FOOD FROM WHEAT. 109 
 
 nor is it as good when cold; but whenever a 
 person is in the exclusive use of coarse bread and 
 fruit, to an extent that prevents any tendency to 
 costiveness, the occasional use of flour bread will 
 be very far from producing any positive injury. It 
 is not because it is bad, that I object to it, but 
 because it is not so useful as that which is better; 
 though for my own part I seldom, if ever, use it, 
 unless | am from home, where that which is better 
 cannot be obtained. ‘‘ Rolls,” as they are called, 
 though worse bot than cold, are by no means 
 among the most wholesome preparations, even of 
 fine flour. 
 
 Wheat flour ground finely as it formerly was, 
 and as it is even now, for the most part, enters 
 into a very great variety of compound articles of 
 food. 1 have before me an English work, on 
 Vegetable Cookery, containing more than three 
 hundred and eighty recipes for preparing dishes 
 into which wheat flour enters, as a more or less 
 important part. I shall not attempt to describe, 
 either in this place or elsewhere, one in twenty 
 of these preparations. Most of them are unfit for 
 the human stomach; and of those which are toler- 
 able, most of them are unnecessary. _ 
 
 Of the various forms of wheat biscuit, those are 
 best into which enter the fewest concentrated sub- 
 stances—as eggs, butter, lard, cream, sugar, mo- 
 
110 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 lasses, &c. The preparations of biscuit and cake, 
 into which eggs alone are suffered to enter, are 
 almost innumerable. But I shall:say more-on this 
 subject in a future chapter.. 
 
 Brean Puppine.—Several of the puddings 
 made of bread, wheat meal, &c., form very tolera- 
 ble dishes. Among these the best with which I 
 am acquainted, is a pudding made of stale bread. 
 The reader will find the best account of this form 
 of pudding in the chapter of recipes. ‘There 
 are, however, many ways of preparing it. One 
 popular method is, to soften the bread by soaking 
 it in milk till it becomes a soft mass, and then 
 boiling it in a bag, like a pudding made of flour or 
 dough. . Such puddings as those to which I now 
 refer, need no additions of sugar, sauce, butter, 
 milk or gravy. They are sweet enough to ne 
 pure or perfect ote without them. 
 
 Bowen Wuaeat.—I think that good, clean 
 wheat, simply boiled, and without any additions or 
 condiments, would make a wholesome dish, if 
 pains were taken to overcome the difficulties of 
 masticating such small kernels. Buchan, in his 
 “Domestic Medicine,” says expressly, that boiled 
 grain is the most wholesome. Simple boiling, more- 
 over, precludes all adulteration. ) 
 
‘FOOD FROM WHEAT. - Ill 
 
 _ Crusts.—The crusts of bread are the richest as 
 well as the sweetest part of the loaf; and this is one 
 evidence of the greater excellence of the cracker or 
 wafer, which is, as it were, all crust. And even 
 those who are aged or infantile and toothless, can 
 eat crusts by soaking them in various ways. I 
 have lived in a family where nearly every member, 
 old and young, avoided the crusts of the bread ; 
 and in these circumstances I have rejoiced to make 
 many a simple meal of nothing but these fragments, 
 somewhat stale, soaked in water. 
 
 Toast, &c.,—To those individuals whose taste 
 is not wholly simplifed—rather I should say, re- 
 stored to its primitive state—there are several other 
 methods of preparing these substances, which are 
 comparatively excellent. One is by drying them 
 quite hard, pounding them in a mortar, and then 
 soaking them in milk. Another is by toasting them, 
 then pouring on a sufficient quantity of bot water, 
 and then, after beating them soft, adding a little 
 milk, or butter and salt. ‘To the simple and healthy 
 palate, they would need neither butter nor milk ; 
 or if either, nothing but a little of the Jatter. This 
 last preparation it is which is called brewis ; and 
 notwithstanding the unpopularity of the crusts be- 
 fore they are soaked and toasted, it is even with 
 many fashionable families quite a favorite. Indeed 
 
112 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 it is worthy of remark, that the crusts of bread 
 seem to gather richness at every step of the process 
 I have described. 
 
 Breap anp Mirx.—Bread and milk is an im- 
 portant and favorite dish in almost every country 
 where milk can be obtained. Although I regard 
 solid food as generally preferable for healthy adults, 
 and think it better, as a general rule, that bread, 
 when eaten, should be eaten alone, and a full 
 meal made of it, yet of all the liquid forms of food 
 used by man, milk is the best; and of compound 
 dishes, bread and milk is one of the best. It is 
 good, with the bread broken into the milk; but it 
 is better if the bread be eaten by itself, and the 
 milk drank slowly at intervals between the mouth- 
 fuls—because we thus secure the benefits of a more 
 perfect mastication and insalivation. Stale wheat 
 flour bread is universally esteemed as an admirable 
 accompaniment of milk; but that form of bread 
 which is best alone, is also best with milk or any 
 other substance. Besides, the compound of flour 
 bread and milk is seldom sufficiently active for the 
 intestines ; and does not always prevent a degree 
 of costiveness. Boiled milk and bread, in various 
 forms, or milk porridge, is also a favorite with many 
 families ; and if coarse bread is used, it will hardly 
 produce much costiveness. 
 
FOOD FROM WHEAT. 113 
 
 -Breap anp Burrer.—Bread and butter—if the 
 butter be fresh and spread thin—is another of the 
 less hurtful compounds ;_ but, like many other things 
 I have mentioned, is not so good as bread alone. 
 Many persons are fond of all sorts of bread, and 
 of unbolted wheat meal bread among the rest, 
 when toasted; but the latter is not improved by 
 toasting. Milk poured upon slices of toasted bread 
 is a favorite dish with many ; but I must still say 
 that the bread is best alone. Or if not alone, it is 
 better to pour the milk upon slices of it not toasted. 
 There is, however, one state in which bread can 
 be somewhat improved by toasting slowly, or rather 
 by drying ; and that is, when it is either too new 
 or too moist. 
 
 Pastry.—The various forms of cake and pastry 
 in common use, whose basis is fine wheat flour, are 
 generally objectionable. It is scarcely necessary 
 to name them; their names would not be worth 
 the space they would occupy. Among the least 
 objectionable—though some of even these are bad 
 enough—are, loaf cake, pound cake, gingerbread, 
 rusks, pancakes, dough nuts, ginger nuts, tea cakes, 
 and seed cakes. 
 
 Fine flour crackers, retaining, as they often do, 
 like fashionable hot rolls, the smell of firkin butter 
 
 not so sweet as it ought to be, cannot be com- 
 8 ; 
 
114 THE. YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 mended ; nor are they very much to be desired by 
 the healthy stomach, even in their best estate. 
 Soda crackers, retaining as they do but little of the 
 alkali, and shortened with nothing but milk; are 
 much better. 
 
 GIncEeRBREAD.—There is a kind of cake which, 
 though without a particle of ginger, is yet allowed 
 to retain the shape of that ancient. preparation, and 
 is not highly objectionable. It is, in fact, nothmg 
 in the world but the unleavened bread which I 
 have so highly commended in the beginning of this 
 article, with a little molasses added to it, and baked 
 rather more slightly than other plain unleavened 
 cakes. 
 
 FiLour Puppine.—Of boiled wheat flour pud- 
 dings—sometimes called minute puddings—I can- 
 not say one favorable word ; nor of flour dumplings, 
 whether in the form of dumplings proper, or enter- 
 ing as a sort of crust or dumpling into pot pies, 
 &c. Nor do I like what is called wheat mush, or 
 puddings made of coarse or cracked wheat, unless 
 eaten when cold. In this state wheat mush forms 
 a very -good article indeed. But all such soft 
 doughy or slippery masses, eaten hot, are but little 
 better than so many devices to cheat the teeth and 
 salivary glands; and have no recommendation 
 
FOOD FROM WHEAT. 115 
 
 which entitles them to take the place, at our tables, 
 of articles which are equally nutritious, and more 
 wholesome, as well as ‘more palatable. 
 
 _ Breap anv Frurr.—My views of the propriety 
 or utility of uniting bread and fruits at the same 
 meal, will be gathered from other parts of the work. 
 Happy is he who. prefers them separately. But I 
 cannot say that he who commits no worse dietetic 
 errors than those of conjoining apples and other 
 fruits, either raw or, baked, with most of the various 
 dishes prepared from wheat which I have here 
 spoken of and commended, is very culpable. 
 
 Poraror Breapv.—Bolted flour has been, with 
 us, commonly used for potatoe bread, or occasion- 
 ally rye flour. J know of no reason why the un- 
 bolted wheat meal should not be as much better, 
 for this purpose, than any other, as it is in the for- 
 mation of common bread. Of the preparation of 
 potatoe bread, I shall treat elsewhere. 
 
 Porsonous Breap.—lI must not omit to mention, 
 that there is always danger from the use of bread 
 which is mouldy. At Hammersmith, in England, 
 about the year 1830, the wife of one of the parish 
 officers purchased one morning a loaf of bread, 
 _of which she ate a slice at breakfast. Her son, 
 
116 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 twenty years of age, ate two slices of the same 
 bread toasted. Almost immediately after the meal, 
 both became unwell, and diarrhoea, vomiting, and 
 tenderness of the abdomen came on, and it was 
 several hours before these symptoms abated. ‘The 
 loaf was of a yellowish color; and though baked 
 that morning, and heated for the usual length of 
 time, it was sprinkled over with small vegetations, 
 the greater part of which were black, a few green, 
 and several yellow. It was soft, wet, inelastic, and 
 so tough that it could be drawn into strings. Its 
 taste was unpleasant, and its smell acrid. A piece 
 of it being given to a cat and a dog, they were 
 poisoned in the same manner with the man and 
 woman. There was no doubt of the presence of | 
 poison, but the question arose whether it was the 
 mould which produced the mischief, or the bread 
 on which it grew. A considerable quantity of the 
 mould—say four or five grains—was accordingly 
 collected, and eaten by a young man aged about 
 twenty-two, without the slightest injury, while an- 
 other individual, who ate a small piece of the bread 
 from which the mould had been taken, had colic 
 and diarrheea. ‘This, and similar experiments, estab- 
 lished the fact, that mouldy bread may, at least 
 occasionally, prove poisonous. 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 INDIAN CORN, AND ITS COMPOUNDS. 
 
 Qualities of Indian corn. Its excellence as food. Hulled 
 corn. Boiled corn. Hommony. Indian cakes—eaten cool. 
 Warm cakes. Parched corn. Boiled pudding. Brown 
 bread. Baked pudding. Hasty pudding. Loaf’ bread. 
 Dumplings. Meat bread. Gruel. Green corn. Polenta. 
 
 Inp1an corn is one of the most wholesome arti- 
 cles for human sustenance, in the known world ; 
 and it may justly be doubted whether the exclusive 
 use of any other article, except wheat, would be 
 so well adapted to develope our whole nature— 
 physical and moral—as this substance. It forms 
 a large proportion of the food of many individuals, 
 and even of some whole tribes of men; and there 
 is nothing against the belief, that if used in a 
 proper manner, it would impart full vigor of body 
 and mind, and an unusual degree of health and 
 longevity. 
 
 I have recently received a letter from a respect- 
 able traveller in Europe, which contains the fol- 
 lowing statements, concerning the use of this article 
 
118 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 in the valley of the Tesin or Tessin, in the north 
 of Italy : ihe, 
 “In this valley (the Tessin) a considerable 
 quantity of Indian corn is raised, as we saw when 
 we passed through it. It is said that some of the 
 laboring classes live mostly on bread made from 
 this corn. They live long and are seldom troubled 
 with disease ; and labor, with them, is mere play. 
 “'The person who related this to me, said that 
 he saw a company of these people last year, at 
 work on a new road, in the canton of Neufchatel, 
 (in Switzerland.) They ate nothing but this 
 bread, and that, too, in small quantity. They 
 were always cheerful and lively, and seemed lke 
 children at play ; while some of their fellow la- 
 borers—Bernese and others—who ate more and 
 different kinds of food, were not so cheerful; and 
 labor seemed to be a task to them.” . ; 
 But we need not go to Italy or Switzerland to 
 test the virtues of Indian corn. The Mexican 
 Indians, as well as many other tribes of native 
 Americans, together with many of the whites in 
 some parts of America, feed largely on this article, 
 with the happiest results. Perhaps it is not too 
 much to say, that were mere gustatory pleasure 
 concerned, there is no single article in the whole 
 range of human diet which, through a long course 
 of years, would procure to us so much enjoyment 
 
INDIAN ‘CORN. 119 
 
 as the various preparations of Indian corn—so rich, 
 uncloying and delicious is it at all times, in all 
 seasons, and in all climates. 
 
 Hvtitep Corn.—Corn is probably best adapted 
 to the wants of the human system when boiled 
 whole. The only difficulty in this. mode of pre- 
 paration, is with the cuticle or hull that covers the 
 kernel, and the part from which, in germination, 
 the chit is produced. ‘These are not so easily dis- 
 engaged as could be desired. Lye has commonly 
 been used to separate them; but there are objec- 
 tions to its use. It is true, that subsequent boiling 
 will remove the taste as well as the poisonous 
 properties of the lye in part, but never entirely. 
 Besides, too much boiling wastes, in some slight 
 decree, the nutriment. 
 
 If corn is soaked or macerated in simple water 
 of the temperature of about 100° of F., for ten 
 or twelve hours, and afterwards boiled a reasonable 
 time, the hulls will be so far disengaged, that they 
 may be easily separated on the plate, and with 
 as much expedition as is consistent with healthful 
 mastication or safe deglutition. If, however, any 
 person wishes to eat more rapidly, and to save 
 time at the expense of health and life, he can 
 add a bag of ashes to the corn at the first boiling, 
 which will disengage the hulls more effectually. 
 
120 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 It is true, 1 have known the whole mass swal- 
 lowed without any attempt to separate the cuticle, 
 and without any apparent evil effects. Not, how- 
 ever, without great pains to masticate it perfectly 
 and swallow it very slowly. . 
 
 Hommony.—The slightest departure from the 
 most perfect state of this article, would seem to be, 
 to use it simply cracked or in the form of what is 
 sometimes called hommony, or samp. Here, how- 
 ever, great pains is required, and much washing, 
 if we mean to separate the cuticle. This form 
 of food may be preserved after it is cooked, a long 
 time. In cool weather, I have found it in the 
 utmost perfection eight days after it was boiled. 
 
 I have said that this preparation would seem to 
 be the slightest departure, &c., but in reality it is 
 not so. ‘I'he mastication and insalivation of hom- 
 mony is less perfect than that of Indian bread, 
 when cold. 
 
 There is a method of preparing from the corn 
 ef the southern United States—which, as my 
 readers may know, is lighter and whiter than ours— 
 a kind of hommony which is essentially the same 
 as our hulled corn, only it more readily becomes 
 soft by boiling. It is exceedingly coarse, being 
 scarcely if at all broken, and yet the hulls and 
 chits appear to be removed as effectually as if an 
 
INDIAN CORN. 121 
 
 alkali had been applied to it. (See the chapter 
 of recipes.) Whether the process which is applied 
 to southern corn, for the purpose, would he equally 
 applicable to our own, I am unable to say. 
 
 Inpran Caxes.—This valuable article of human 
 sustenance, known by the various names of “ johnny 
 cake,” “hoe cake,” &c., is prepared differently by 
 different persons; but in almost every way with 
 which I am acquainted, it forms—to those who are 
 trained to it—a very palatable, and if eaten at a 
 proper temperature, an exceedingly rich and whole- 
 some food. 
 
 The best way of preparation is probably the 
 following :—The meal ground not too finely, should 
 be wet with pure, cold water, (though some use 
 boiling water,) and made into very thin cakes, 
 which should be slowly baked till they become 
 somewhat firm. ‘These should be eaten without 
 the addition of cream, butter, molasses, or any 
 other condiment, and of the temperature of the 
 surrounding atmosphere. Made in the common 
 way, however, that is, of the ordinary thickness, 
 and not baked very hard, and eaten with the usual 
 additions, they cannot be said to be unwholesome, 
 absolutely so; but only inferior to those which are 
 made still more in accordance with the human 
 constitution. 
 
122 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 No food which is prepared from Indian corn 
 ought ever to be used hot. Corn has long been 
 considered as too stimulating forthe common food 
 of most of our domestic animals; and it is quite 
 as stimulating as the human animal can bear with 
 safety. Its stimulating tendency, however, is 
 greatly increased by heat, which, for this reason, 
 if no other, should be avoided. « 
 
 But there are other reasons. We do not masti- 
 cate it properly, if used while hot. We also eat too 
 much of it. Its richness and “sweetness are su 
 remarkable, that with a pure and perfect appetite 
 ‘most people who use it are in perpetual danger 
 of over-eating, when it is even used cold; and if 
 eaten hot or very warm, the danger is very greatly 
 increased. 
 
 But I repeat it, Indian cakes, if eaten quite 
 cool, and not until many hours after they are 
 baked, require more mastication and insalivation 
 than any other form of the article except that I 
 have named first—the hulled corn; and next to 
 that are, therefore, recommended. So slight, more- 
 over, is the departure from nature, that for variety’s 
 sake, I would use the two alternately. 
 
 Tt is impossible for me ever to forget the repug- 
 nance I felt in early life, when compelled, for the 
 first time, to make a dinner of Indian cakes, not hot. 
 I say compelled, not physically, but socially. 
 
INDIAN CORN. 123 
 
 I was at the time a district school teacher, and 
 
 was accustomed to board in the families of my 
 employers. Some of these families were exceed- 
 ingly poor, others were in more comfortable. cir- 
 cumstances. It was in a part of New England 
 where jolinny cake, eaten either hot or cold, was 
 considered quite a vulgar article of diet, more fit 
 for swine than men ; though some would eat it, if 
 they could get it, at least occasionally, at the risk 
 of their reputation. I was one of the latter class. 
 Eaten hot, and especially with butter, 1 thought it 
 a most delicious substance—the public opinion to 
 the contrary notwithstanding. 
 _ It was customary when the families lived remote 
 from the school-house, to carry with us our dinner. 
 Mine, I was permitted to carry by itself, if I chose ; 
 but to show myself a true republican and to please 
 the pupils, it was my custom, for the time, to eat 
 with them. The “dinner” was accordingly usually 
 put up in a basket and carried to the school 
 room, where, after dismission at noon, we soon 
 despatched it. 
 
 - Being a boarder in a family in low circumstances, 
 who had Indian cakes occasionally, I was not a 
 little surprised one day at noon, on uncovering the 
 contents of the dinner basket at the school room, 
 to find little in it but “ johnny cake!”” My whole 
 soul revolted. Make a dinner of cold johnny cake! 
 
124 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 I said to myself. Who ever heard of a school- 
 master’s eating such stuff for his dinner? And 
 what will be said by the pupils of other families, 
 when they see their teacher partaking of such 
 coarse fare ?—However, there was another side to 
 the question. I must eat it or go without my din- 
 ner; and if I went without, the children of the 
 family with whom I boarded would report it, and 
 offence micht be given. So that on the whole I 
 concluded it best to set myself to work and eat my 
 temperate dinner. 
 
 The first mouthful went down with difficulty. 
 After eating a few moments, the whole face of 
 things was altered. ‘lhe dinner tasted very well, 
 except that I could hardly help shivering to think 
 of it. Iwas not a little surprised to find that it 
 relished so much better than I expected. In short, 
 I found myself alive at the end of the repast, and 
 awaked in health the next morning !—the johnny 
 cake to the contrary notwithstanding. 4 
 
 ‘This was a valuable lesson to me, though it did * 
 not wholly cure me of my prejudices against Indian 
 cakes of a proper temperature, or temperate food 
 in general.* It taught me, however, to make the 
 
 *T here say temperate, because it is not strictly correct to 
 call food which is kept in our closets and cellars, at their 
 usual temperature, cold. It causes a mental shivering with 
 the fastidious, which is wholly unnecessary. 
 
INDIAN CORN. 125 
 
 best of circumstances ; and that where I could not 
 have things just as I might desire, there was still 
 room for enjoyment, would I but be cheerful and 
 think so. 
 
 I am quite at a loss to account for the prejudice 
 that exists in many parts of our country, against 
 plain, simple articles of food. ‘To say that a per- 
 son lives on bread and water, is to say that he lives 
 like a hermit or a criminal ; therefore it is hardly 
 to be wondered at, that bread and water, though 
 among the best, and richest, and most nutritive of 
 the Creator’s gifts to: man, as food and drink, are 
 despised and rejected, and unfashionable ; and that 
 to say a man lives on these from choice, is nearly 
 equivalent to saying he is either in a state ap- 
 proaching to starvation, or is a maniac. But how 
 the prejudice should have arisen against the usual 
 preparations of corn, especially plain cakes made 
 of it; or how a measure of the same prejudice 
 should come to exist against almost all semples, 
 such as boiled rice, beans, potatoes, bread and 
 milk, &c., is more difficult to conceive. 
 
 One might be disposed to believe that our stand- 
 ard of valuation and that of the Creator are as 
 widely different from each other as the two poles. 
 He has dealt out to us, with a most unsparing 
 hand, the richest blessings—licht, heat, air, water, 
 fruits and grains. The first four cost us almost 
 
: 
 
 126 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 nothing, and the two last comparatively little. And’ 
 yet these we call vulgar, and attach value to and 
 associate pleasure with things which are more 
 doubtful, or exceedingly rare. We are ready to 
 thank God for his benefits in general; but who 
 ever thinks of thanking him specially: for light, air 
 or water, or for corn, potatoes or apples? Who 
 would not be much more likely to retura thanks— 
 at least with more thankfulness—for a pebble 
 called a diamond, and valued at a most énormous 
 price because of its scarcity, for a few little pieces: 
 of gold or silver, or for a cup of Chinese herb tea, ' 
 a chicken pie, or a.pie from Strasbourg ? * 
 
 I am not ashamed to belong toa race of beings 
 so unreasonable, and: guilty of such obvious con- 
 tradictions ; .but I am somewhat ashamed of my- 
 self, that it should have taken me more than thirty 
 years to learn to value things somewhat as the 
 Creator does; and I am still more. ashamed that 
 I have done and am still doing so little to teach 
 others what I have Jearned in the school of Divine 
 Providence,. from a long and painful, but most 
 merciful experience. 
 
 _ *® Very fashionable mince pies are made at Strasbourg, in 
 France, from the diseased livers of geese, or other animals, 
 These pies are now brought, in some instances, to this 
 
 country, especially to Philadelphia, and our other large 
 cities. 
 
INDIAN CORN. 127 
 
 Warm Caxes.—lI have said distinctly that food 
 of the kind of which I am speaking should not be 
 used warm; and I have given my reasons. If, 
 however, any individual cannot yet relish a meal 
 of hulled corn, or of cold cake without condiments, 
 let him begin with one or the other, as: warm as 
 may be agreeable, and Jet him gradually diminish 
 the temperature, from day to day, or at least from 
 week to week, till he has brought it down to that 
 of the surrounding atmosphere—to 60° or 65° 
 Let him do so, I mean, if he is not wanting in 
 faith, and a strong and determined will. With 
 these last, the process need not be tedious. Confi- 
 dence or faith and a strong will, may remove—and 
 that speedily, too—whole mountains of difficulty. 
 
 _ Parcuep Corn.—This deserves a better repu- 
 tation than it has generally received. Parched 
 grain was a great favorite in ancient times, in 
 Palestine and other eastern countries; and is one 
 of the best kinds of food which can be eaten; 
 provided, however, sufficient pains is taken to mas- 
 ticate it thoroughly. A breakfast of parched 
 Indian corn once or twice a week, is admirable, | 
 The labor of cooking it is not great ; especially 
 as a large quantity may be prepared at once; for 
 it may be preserved, in perfection, several weeks, 
 I repeat it, I regard parched corn as one of the 
 
 aa 
 
128 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 staples in human diet, and worthy of far more 
 attention, than in modern times it has received. 
 
 I have recently learned from good authority, 
 that great use is made of parched corn in South 
 America, especially by the armies of Peru. With 
 nothing but a sack of parched corn, and a species 
 of leaf which they chew, the Peruvian soldiers 
 have been known to perform journeys of six or 
 seven hundred miles, at the rate of sixty miles a 
 day, without much fatigue—a swiftness to us al- 
 most incredible. 
 
 Bowtep Puppinc.—The next most wholesome 
 treparation of Indian meal, is in the form of boiled 
 pudding. This, to him who would be “ perfect,” 
 should be several hours old before it is eaten— ~ 
 perhaps a day Is not too much—and nothing need 
 be added in order to make it palatable. If, how- 
 ever, there are those who cannot at once receive 
 this doctrine, let them take a similar course to that 
 prescribed in a preceding paragraph, in relation to 
 Indian cakes, until they can. 
 
 - A person to whom this part of my manuscript 
 was submitted, revolted from the statement of the 
 preceding paragraph, and said I was going too far. 
 I asked if it could be shown that I was going any 
 farther than the truth—Now I am not ignorant 
 of the public feeling on the subject of eating cold 
 
INDIAN CORN. 129 
 
 boiled pudding. . “It is as heavy as lead to the 
 human stomach,” multitudes will say. Now if 
 any one will eat no more of it when it is hot than 
 when it is cold, I will not so loudly complaia 
 of the heat. But I never yet knew a person 
 of good appetite, who made a full dinner of hot 
 pudding, without experiencing dulness, or drowsi- 
 ness, or pain after it. The truth is, that if we 
 have a good appetite, we shall eat quite enough 
 of the article in question at twenty-four hours old , 
 and the additional quantity we should be apt to eat 
 in consequence of its being heated, would be just so 
 much more than health or a good appetite renders 
 desirable, and would injure rather than benefit us. 
 
 Brown Breap.—Next to this comes the brown 
 bread of Massachusetts and some other parts of 
 New England—made of rye flour and Indian 
 meal. ‘This, when composed of a large proportion 
 of the latter, and’ unfermented, is a very tolerable 
 sort of food, especially the crusts. J*ermentation 
 renders it sweeter, and to most old fashioned 
 palates more agreeable ; but when a person has 
 accustomed himself to using it unfermented, he 
 will relish it quite as well; and it is, in my view, 
 more wholesome. 
 
 I can hardly forbear to mention, in this place, a 
 
 fact in my own history. Six years ago, I had an 
 9 
 
130 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 utter hatred of the brown bread of which I am 
 speaking. It appeared to me not merely tasteless 
 and insipid, like bran and sawdust, but positively 
 disgusting. | 
 
 Becoming fully convinced, however, that this 
 form of bread must be wholesome, and being a 
 boarder in a family where there was no bread 
 which I deemed preferable, 1 resolved to eat it 
 daily ; usually for my breakfast. I selected the 
 latter season for eating it, because in the morning 
 our appetite is most keen, as well as most perfect. 
 Before six months had elapsed, | had not only’ 
 conquered my dislike, but had acquired a fondness 
 for it; and now, few articles of food give me more 
 pleasure. Indeed, there are few things on which 
 I could live exclusively, from day to day, and from 
 month to month, with as much pleasure as brown 
 bread. 
 
 It is highly desirable to devise some vrisdbiad 
 of making this form of bread a little more dry 
 than is customary with us. It is not unfrequently 
 prepared in very large loaves, with all the interior 
 of the loaf as soft almost as a baked pudding. 
 Nay, it is not only soft, but watery. It can, 
 indeed, be sliced and laid on plates and suffered to 
 dry; but this appears to detract from its richness. 
 Until some method can be devised of making it a 
 little more solid without over baking, the best way 
 
\ 
 
 INDIAN CORN. 131 
 
 is to toast it slowly. Great care should be used, 
 however, in toasting bread, not to burn it, or even 
 render it too crispy, as this would be unfavorable 
 to digestion. It should be dried rather than toasted. 
 But the process of toasting in any way, is a pro- 
 cess which requires considerable care and labor. 
 
 Baxep Puppine.—This may be made as sim- 
 ply and rendered as wholesome as boiled pudding. 
 The usual accompaniments of suet, sugar, mo- 
 lasses, &c., are by no means indispensable. Pre- 
 pared for the oven in the same simple way as the 
 meal is prepared for cakes which are roasted by 
 the fire, it makes a very superior article of human 
 diet. Of course the suet, molasses, &c., usually 
 added to it, must be omitted. ‘The only possible 
 objection to such a course is, that it does not 
 require much mastication, and is almost universally 
 eaten hot. Eaten cold, by which I mean ‘cool, 
 and without the addition of concentrated sub- 
 stances, it is by no means unfavorable to health 
 and longevity, though cakes baked hard would 
 unquestionably be preferable. 
 
 Hasty Puppine.—Willich says that hasty pud- 
 ding, on account of its tenacity and the quantity 
 of mucilage it contains, is not so easily digested as 
 people who feed their infants upon it are apt to. 
 
132 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 imagine. 1 am quite of his opinion in regard to 
 the digestibility of this substance, but not for the 
 reasons he assigns. ‘The grand objection is, that 
 it requires, or at least receives, little or no mastica- 
 tion. ‘This, indeed, is the principal difficulty with 
 a great many sorts of food so constantly said 
 by dietetic writers to be indigestible. They are 
 highly nutritious in their nature; but they are 
 ground or beaten so as to form a complete paste 
 that will almost slide down the throat, as fast as it 
 is put into the mouth ; and lastly, molasses, butter, 
 oil, sauces or gravies, are applied to hurry them 
 beyond the reach of the teeth and salivary glands, 
 as fast as possible. 
 
 The finer hommony, or that which is so frequently 
 called samp, is liable-to some of the very objec- 
 tions which I have urged against hasty pudding, 
 especially that which yelates to mastitation. I 
 never knew a child who was indulged largely and: 
 frequently in hasty pudding and milk, or hasty 
 pudding and molasses, who had not a sour stomach, 
 or worms in the intestines, or both. Few things 
 are more deceptive to children or adults, than 
 these soft lazy dishes ; such I mean as glide down 
 into the stomach without any trouble to chew 
 them. ‘They are deceptive because they seem to: 
 sit so smoothly on the stomach, while in reality 
 they are over-tasking it. They compel it to do 
 
INDIAN CORN. 133 
 
 that which should in part have been done in the 
 mouth ; and this produces mischief in two ways ;— 
 first, by the over-tasking which I have alluded to— 
 and secondly, by the want of action on the part 
 of the teeth and salivary glands. 
 
 Loar Breap.—In travelling among the Dutch 
 population of this country, I have sometimes met 
 with loaf bread made wholly of Indian meal. I 
 do not think it so good as the cakes, yet I believe 
 it deserves a better reputation than it would be 
 likely. to receive among us, who are of English 
 origin. I am wholly ignorant of the particular 
 method of preparing this article of food; but it 
 does not seem to me to be very well raised. 
 
 Dump.ines.—Boiled Indian dumplings are a 
 very inferior kind of food, except for domestic 
 animals. ‘To the sick or the well, they are the 
 worst form of food from Indian meal which I have 
 ever seen, except some of those which follow. 
 
 Meat Breav.—I have met with a kind of - 
 bread made principally of Indian meal, but with 
 the addition of finely chopped lean meat. Such 
 bread, although evidently nutritious enough, is 
 inferior to almost every other kind that could be 
 named. ‘The name I have usually heard applied 
 
134 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 to it is crackling bread.: The term meat bread is 
 wholly of my own invention. 
 
 : ‘is ang , 
 
 GrureLt.—Where a gentle laxative is required, 
 and nothing seems to be more convenient or better 
 adapted to the purpose, than gruel of Indian meal, 
 it is not at all objectionable. . But as an article 
 of daily food for invalids, especially for ‘those 
 whose stomachs are weak, it seems to me pecu- 
 liarly improper. It is much harder of digestion 
 than solid food ; which is one reason for the prohi- 
 bition. ‘The.same objections, in substance, exist in 
 relation to it which were mentioned in speaking 
 of hasty pudding. — It is not masticated; and the 
 nutriment it contains, forming a concentrated sedi- 
 ment in the stomach, is digested with very great 
 difficulty. 
 
 Green Corn.—l have hitherto said nothing of 
 corn boiled before it is ripe; though there are 
 several fashionable dishes of this sort among us. 
 
 The first is the boiled ears. These, if samply 
 boiled in water, with no addition but that of a 
 little salt, form a tolerably nutritious and very 
 sweet food; but green corn can never be as whole- 
 some as that which is ripe. I know it is customary 
 ~with many writers on diet to denounce this. article 
 of food; in toto; but they do not give'us sufficient 
 
INDIAN CORN. 135 
 
 reasons for their denunciations. It is, indeed, an 
 article of food which I never eat; but my reasons 
 are—I find so many better dishes that I cannot 
 feel justified in the use of one which is worse ; that 
 it is a waste to use the green ears of corn in this 
 way; and that I seldom find it at tables in a 
 proper state. It is very often boiled with meat or 
 other greasy food, which renders it peculiarly unfit 
 for the stomach. No article, perhaps, forms so 
 unwholesome a mass for the stomach, when in 
 combination with oily or greasy substances, as 
 green corn. Some add butter, but this is still 
 worse. ‘The combination of green corn and green 
 beans, called by its Indian name, suckotash, is 
 far from being among the most wholesome, even 
 without the accustomed seasoning. Both articles 
 are better eaten alone, after they have attained to 
 maturity. ‘The same remarks, in general, which 
 have been applied, in this paragraph, to boiled ears 
 of corn, apply also to those which are roasted. 
 
 Potentsa.—Corn meal mixed with cheese, says 
 Dr. Dunglison, and baked into a kind of pudding, 
 forms the dish which the Italians call polenta. It 
 is, however, extremely indigestible. 
 
 There is a great variety of forms of cookery, 
 into which Indian meal, notwithstanding its sup- 
 
136 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 posed vulgarity, sometimes enters, but I forbear to 
 mention them here. The very name of pancakes 
 or fritters, whether with or without apples or other 
 fruits, and whether with or without oysters, is 
 enough, almost, to give one an attack of dyspepsia ; 
 and fried hasty pudding is still worse. There is 
 no special, or at least serious, evil in warming 
 over a mass of cold hasty pudding; but when 
 we add the frying process, it is too much; and if I 
 ever wish for sumptuary laws at all, it is when I 
 think of that parent of a thousand evils, fried 
 hasty pudding. 
 
 Indian meal is apt to heat and ferment, and thus 
 sustain injury during the summer. It should, 
 therefore, like wheat and rye meal, be kept in a 
 cool, airy place; and in a quantity not too large ; 
 and should be often stirred and exposed to the 
 air. 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 FOOD FROM RYE. 
 
 Extensive use of rye. Brown bread. Rye bread. Mixed 
 bread. Biscuit, &c. Unleavened cakes. Gingerbread. 
 Puddings. Gruel. 
 
 ~ Some may be surprised that I should place rye, 
 in point of excellence, next in order to Indian 
 corn, and before rice; but this appears to me its 
 appropriate place. In the north of Europe, it is 
 the principal source of sustenance; and after 
 wheat, nourishes the greater portion of the popu- 
 lation of that continent. It forms the bread of 
 nearly twenty millions of the French nation alone. 
 Even in many parts of New Englaad it forms a 
 very large proportion of the ordinary diet. 
 
 There is, however, a very great difference in 
 the character of the rye itself, not only as respects 
 its whiteness, but its flavor. Much of this differ- 
 ence depends upon the manner of raising it; and 
 still more, perhaps, upon the manner of preparing 
 it. With milk and good yeast, I have seen it 
 almost equal to wheat, both in point of lightness 
 
138 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER 
 
 and whiteness, notwithstanding the deficiency of 
 gluten which many writers represent as so fatal to 
 its excellence ; and even without the milk it makes 
 excellent bread.. In one word, I believe its quali- 
 ties and wholesomeness have hitherto been greatly 
 underrated. 
 
 Brown Breap.—l have already spoken of the 
 brown bread, so common among us—formed from 
 rye and Indian. The proportion of these two 
 ingredients may vary at the pleasure of those who 
 prepare it; and wheat meal, as well as barley 
 and oat meal, and even rice flour, may be added 
 for the benefit of those prefer it. 
 
 Rye Breapv.—Notwithstanding the preference 
 given by many—and even by myself—to brown 
 bread, great numbers of the people of New Eng- 
 Jand regard the latter as dry and insipid, and some 
 as offensive ; while they think bread made of rye 
 alone is. peculiarly tasteful and agreeable. So 
 powerful is habit, and so much is the taste subject 
 to it. Rye bread, however, is by no means an 
 inferior sort of bread; it has been the principal 
 diet of thousands of New England’s hardiest, 
 healthiest, most enterprising sons, and of some of 
 her most distinguished literary men. ‘The Journal 
 of Health says rye bread requires rather more 
 
FOOD FROM RYE. 139 
 
 salt than any other bread; but this cannot be 
 true, as some of the best rye bread J have ever 
 eaten was made wholly without salt. It is, how- 
 ever, generally added by house-keepers in small 
 quantity, especially in making bread of rye alone. 
 
 Mixep Breap.—There are several mixed breads 
 into which rye enters, which are very much ap- 
 proved of in families. One is called the third 
 bread ; consisting of wheat, rye and Indian, one 
 third each. Another, which I regard as still 
 sweeter and better, is the mixture of rye and 
 Indian I have already mentioned ; but Iam not able 
 to state the usual proportions. Another still—and 
 I deem it preferable to all others—consists of two 
 fifths rye and three fifths wheat. This is usually 
 prepared by making a paste or dough of the wheat 
 alone, and as soon as the fermentation has com- 
 menced, working in the rye meal, moistened with 
 water. 
 
 Biscuit, &c.—A plain, but excellent sort of 
 biscuits; is made of rye flour wet with milk. 
 Crackers of rye flour have also sometimes been 
 made, but not so often. Rye puddings are more 
 common, but are liable to the general objections 
 brought against all puddings; although, if their 
 use be at all admissible, rye puddings of coarse 
 
140 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 meal—rye mush—is among the most wholesome. 
 Rye dough nuts and gingerbread are better—much 
 better—than those which are made of superfine 
 wheat flour; although many fashionable people, 
 who never saw a particle of rye flour used except 
 to form the brown bread already spoken of, would 
 find it somewhat difficult to believe it. 
 
 Uxteavenep Caxes.—These might have been 
 put first. But there is such a prejudice against 
 unleavened bread of any sort, that having encoun- 
 tered it for once, viz., in the article on wheat, I 
 seem to shrink from it, with a dread almost instinc- 
 tive. And yet why should I? Dr. Cullen, more 
 than half a century ago, ventured to defend it. 
 “The whole people of Asia,” says he, “live upon 
 unfermented rice. In Scotland, nine tenths of the 
 lower classes of the people—and that is the greater 
 part of the whole—live upon unfermented bread 
 and unfermented farinacea in other forms, and yet 
 I am of opinion that there is not a more healthy 
 people anywhere to be found.” And Dr. Paris, 
 who wrote almost half a century later than Dr. 
 Cullen, says that “ where leavened or fermented 
 bread does not agree,” the use of that which is 
 unleavened “cannot be too strongly advocated.” 
 
 Under the sanction, then, of authority so high, 
 I may venture to say, that the best form of rye 
 
' FOOD FROM RYE. 141 
 
 bread, after all, is that of unfermented cakes baked 
 upon the hearth or elsewhere, and eaten when of a 
 proper age. 
 
 - Those who object to them, on the ground of 
 their tendency to produce consumption—a sort of 
 traditional belief among us—do not in reality object 
 to the cakes themselves, eaten cool, and with no 
 accompaniments ; for though this is the only way in 
 which they should be eaten, it is precisely the way 
 in which nobody eats them. They are commonly, 
 perhaps I should say universally, eaten with butter, 
 and while hot—when they are as unfit for the human 
 stomach as can be conceived. but let them bea 
 day or two old, and: then eat them as loaf bread 
 commonly is or should be eaten, and we shall no 
 longer hear of their being injurious. ‘They will 
 be as wholesome, to say the least, as any other 
 form of bread into which rye enters. 
 
 GincerBreaD.—lIf gingerbread is allowable at 
 all, it is nearly as good made of rye as of wheat. 
 But as I have already said, those who make this 
 form of cake should omit the ginger, and only add 
 a small quantity of molasses. If rye is ground 
 coarsely and neither bolted nor sifted, unless it be 
 to remove a very small quantity of its coarser parts, 
 it will make bread or cake but little inferior to that 
 which is produced from wheat. 
 
142 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 - Pupprncs.—To puddings made of rye meal or’ 
 flour, I have already objected, at sufficient length. 
 But there is one species of pudding—if it deserve 
 the name of pudding—which is much more tolera- 
 ble. I allude to boiled or steamed loaves of stale 
 bread. ‘They need not be eaten hot. They are 
 excellent twelve hours after they have been re- 
 vived by the steaming process, and seem, even at 
 this age, to possess all or nearly all of their original 
 freshness. | 
 
 Gruet.—Rye gruel—usually considered very 
 healthy—is of course a liquid ;.and—I repeat it 
 once more—lI’ object to liquid food, so long as 
 solids are admissible. As a medicine, it Is, like 
 gruel made of Indian or wheat meal, often very 
 useful. 
 
 Rye meal should be kept in a cool, airy place, 
 especially in summer. It should also be occa- 
 sionally stirred. It is said that a large stone put 
 in the middle of a barrel of rye or Indian meal, 
 will help to keep it cool. Probably this is mere 
 tradition. | 
 
CHAPTER XI. 
 
 RICE. 
 
 Rice extensively used. Mistaken notion of its producing 
 costiveness and blindness. Boiled rice. Baked rice. Rice 
 bread, Rice and milk. 
 
 No substance which enters into the human 
 stomach, and which is at the same time perfectly 
 inoffensive, has been more slandered than rice. 
 On the one hand, it has been said to be an innu- 
 tritious, feeble substance ; on the other, it has been 
 said to be an active poison. It has been charged 
 with producing costiveness, blindness, and even in 
 some instances the cholera. 
 
 The truth is, that rice is one of the most nutri- 
 tious substances in the world ; as may be seen from 
 the tables in a former chapter. I know, as I have 
 already said, that it will be hard for many people 
 to believe this. Because meat stimulates more, 
 and gives more momentary warmth and strength, it 
 is therefore insisted that it contains more nutriment. 
 On the same principle, it might be proved that 
 alcohol is highly nutritious ; whereas all the alcohol 
 
144 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 in the world does not contain a particle of that 
 which can nourish us or make blood. 
 
 Nor does rice tend directly to produce costive- 
 ness. ‘The most that can be said against it is, that 
 itis not very active on the stomach and bowels— 
 and in our climate, and especially when trained as 
 our stomachs and intestines are, to the action of 
 substances much more stimulating and irritating, 
 seems to have the effect of producing costiveness. 
 But to the eastern nations who are trained to it— 
 even’ without the curry sauce so largely used in 
 many places—it has no coiistipating qualities. Let 
 our children and youth be trained, from the first, to 
 a pretty full proportion of rice with their food, and 
 Jet them use other simple, wholesome, unstimulating 
 things, and we shall hear little more of its tendency 
 to costiveness. 
 
 As to its producing blindness; I have sought, 
 these ten years, for evidence on ’ this subject ; but 
 have never found a particle. The nearest approach 
 to evidence I have met with, is the statement of a 
 very worthy old man, that he knew a case of the 
 kind in Maine. But every one knows how many 
 other causes might have contributed to produce 
 such a result as was stated. If this substance 
 could cause blindness, we ought to hear of such 
 facts from China, Japan, and other parts of Asia ; 
 especially since the establishment of eye infirma- 
 
RICE. 145. 
 
 ries by the missionaries in those regions; but no 
 such developments have, to my knowledge, ever 
 been made. In short, I regard the whole as a 
 base slander; and the charge that it produces 
 cholera, no less so. Neither of the charges ever 
 was, or—lI venture to affirm it—ever can be sub- 
 stantiated. 
 
 Bortep Rice.—The best, or at least the simplest 
 mode of preparing rice, is boiling it in pure water. 
 After careful washing, it should be boiled in such 
 a way that it is completely soft,-and swelled to its 
 full size, but not broken and reduced to a pulp. 
 The Hindoos, I am told, boil it till they reduce it 
 to a perfect paste; but I can never believe it so 
 wholesome, prepared in this way. On the other 
 hand, it should be cooked thoroughly ; for I have 
 known considerable temporary disturbance produced 
 in the bowels, by eating it when it contained por- 
 tions of the kernel which were hard and uncooked. 
 It is difficult to masticate rice, unless the grains are 
 left whole, and swelled to their fullest size. 
 
 Baxep Ricr.—Next to boiling, baking is the 
 most proper method of cooking this substance. 
 Indeed, some prefer baking to boiling. It is 
 equally simple; and to those who use cooking 
 
 stoves, perhaps more easy and more economical. 
 10 
 
146 THE YOUNG. HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 Rice, whether baked or boiled, is best eaten. 
 alone ; or at Jeast with no additions except a very 
 little. salt. If, however, anything must be added, 
 milk poured on it is best—and next to that, a little 
 molasses. Butter, sweet oil, and all sorts of sauces 
 on rice are highly injurious. _ Honey is not so good 
 as molasses, or sugar, or milk. I do not say it will 
 be well to eat nothing but naked rice from one 
 year’s end to another, or even from one day to 
 another. All I say is, that when we eat a meal 
 of rice, it is preferable, in point of health, that we 
 should eat it alone. | 
 
 _ A. great deal is said by dietetic writers, about 
 the necessity: of eating something with our rice. 
 ‘If taken in large quantities, by itself,” says Dr. 
 Paris, “from its low degree of stimulant proper- 
 ties, it is apt to remain for a length of time in the 
 stomach.” And again he says—“< where the sto- 
 mach is in.a state of relaxation and debility, it 
 ought not to be taken without condiment.” 
 
 But why should it be eaten in large quantities, 
 at all? I do not hesitate’ to admit, that if thus 
 eaten, it will lie long in the stomach. It is so pure 
 a nutriment that no stomach, let it be ever so 
 strong, ought ever to receive it in large quantities, 
 If, however, this injunction’ should be disregarded 
 er disobeyed, I have no doubt most kinds of con- 
 diments. would, for the time, have a good effect. 
 
. RICE. 147 
 They would operate upon it like whip and spurs 
 upon. an overloaded horse; they would urge it 
 forward for the moment, but it would be at the 
 expense of the future. ‘There might be sound 
 philosophy in eating a moderate quantity of thin, 
 hard-baked, fermented cakes or wafers with our 
 rice, for the sake of the mastication. 
 
 . Baked rice puddings are by no means very ex- 
 ceptionable, if nothing is mixed with the rice but 
 a little milk and molasses. But when eggs and 
 condiments of various sorts are added, they are not 
 so wholesome. | 
 Experience teaches that rice is not so good when 
 first boiled, as after the lapse of six, nine, or twelve 
 hours. Even three or four days after it is boiled, 
 especially in cool weather and when kept in a cool 
 place, it retains all its excellent properties. 
 
 Rice Breap.—Of this substance, in any of its 
 forms, I know very little ; and all directions, here 
 or elsewhere, will be either theoretical or borrowed. 
 I suppose that on the general principle, that every 
 substance is best by itself, rice would not be so 
 good mixed with flour or meal of any sort, and 
 made into bread. But there is one thing to coun- 
 terbalance all this. Formed into bread, it is more 
 apt to be subjected to the processes of mastication 
 and insalivation, than it is when eaten alone. For 
 
148 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 all other purposes except to make bread of some 
 sort, I dislike the grinding of rice into flour at all 5 
 and if ground, I dislike its use. 
 
 Rice ann Mizrx.—This is a very palatable 
 mixture, but so exceedingly quiet, in its immediate 
 effects on the stomach, and it slides down the 
 throat so easily, that we are peculiarly apt to err 
 in regard to quantity when we use it. If used at 
 all, let it be used with great caution; and it were 
 somewhat better that the rice were eaten by itself, 
 and the milk drank afterward, than that they 
 should be mixed before eating. 
 
 I must conclude my remarks on rice by saying, 
 that while I reject the false notions of its deficiency 
 in nutritive properties, of its tendency to costive- 
 ness, and above all, of its sometimes causing blind- 
 ness, its use is not without danger; but it is, on 
 account of its being so purely nutritious, that almost 
 everybody who uses it, is apt to take tao large 
 quantities. I know a minister of high standing 
 who has lived for years in no small degree on rice, 
 and maccaroni, and other simple articles of the 
 most nutritive kinds—but who, in the belief that. 
 these contain comparatively little nutriment, is: 
 almost constantly injuring his stomach by them. 
 This error seems to me one of the most difficult to 
 remove-in the whole range of dietetics. | 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 BARLEY AND OATS 
 
 Barley much used in Kurope. Its properties. Mixed bread. 
 Pearl barley. Oats. 
 
 Bartey is but little raised in this country ; and 
 when used, is seldom converted into bread. On 
 the eastern continent its use is quite common, and 
 has been so time immemorial. 
 
 The proportion of the principle called gluten, in 
 this grain, is so small, that alone it does not make 
 very light bread.. Wheat, as my readers already 
 know, contains the glutinous principle in greatest 
 abundance, and therefore it is, among other rea- 
 sons, that it makes the lightest loaves. Wheat 
 contains, with seventy-five parts in one hundred 
 of starch, twelve of gluten; rye, with sixty parts 
 of starch, eight of gluten; and barley, with thirty- 
 two of starch, three of gluten. As the nutritive 
 parts of farinaceous vegetables are principally con- 
 tained in these two principles, it will be seen, not 
 only that wheat and rye are most nutritive, but 
 also that they are by far the most glutinous and 
 
150 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 best fitted for loaf bread. Still, barley is very 
 good ; and were not our American soil so happily 
 adapted to the production of wheat, rye, or Indian 
 corn, might be very serviceable. 
 
 There is one kind of mixed bread into which 
 barley enters, which is comparatively excellent. 
 It is made of equal parts of wheat, rye and bar- 
 ley. ‘The dough is made of the wheat meal, and 
 the meal of the two other grains is added after 
 fermentation of the mass has begun. 
 
 In our own country, the principal use made 
 of barley as food, is in the form of gruel. This 
 for the sick or weak is often admirable. Most of 
 the apothecaries’ shops keep it for this purpose 
 under the name of pearl barley. , 
 
 Oats.—The farmers of Ireland and Scotland find 
 themselves strong, and healthy, and happy, on oaten 
 bread ; and many hundred thousands in those coun- 
 tries, especially in Scotland—to say nothing of her 
 philosophers—have little other nutriment but oat 
 meal and potatoes. But in our own country very 
 little of this kind of bread has been used ; nor is it 
 necessary, since we have so many other substances 
 which are preferable. ‘The Scotch use it most in 
 the form of unleavened cakes, which, if eaten cool, 
 are probably healthier than loaves. 
 
CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 THE POTATOE. 
 
 Importance of the potatoe as an article of diet. Modes of 
 cooking it—boiling, baking, steaming and roasting. Bad 
 boiling. Examples of a better mode. Cooking a potatoe 
 well, seldom understood. The “civic crown.” Mashed 
 -potatoes. Potatoe bread. Potatoes and milk. Potatoe 
 soup. “Hash.” Fried potatoes. The potatoe sometimes 
 poisonous. 
 
 Too much importance can hardly be attached 
 to an article which forms the principal support 
 of many millions, and the partial support of a still 
 larger number. I believe most of the civilized 
 countries of Europe use this valuable root more 
 or less freely—and that it is daily gaining favor. 
 
 In many parts of the United States, and espe- 
 cially in New England, it forms one of the staple 
 productions of the soil, and ranks among the prin- 
 cipal articles of food for man and for beast. Here, 
 too, its use has been, till recently, constantly 
 increasing. At the present time, especially among 
 the fashionable, there is an increasing tendency to 
 regard it as somewhat vulgar. It seems to be 
 
152 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 sharing the same fate, or nearly the ‘same, with 
 bread ; which, though acknowledged to be a highly 
 useful article, is considered insipid when compared 
 with rolls, rusks, bunns, puddings, cakes, and, the 
 various forms of pastry—and the use of which, 
 seems only tolerated as a sort of penance. 
 
 _ There are many varieties of the potatoe. In 
 their properties they do not, however, materially 
 differ, except in a single instance. The sweet 
 potatoe is much more cloying, in its nature, than 
 the rest, on account of the larger proportion it 
 contains of saccharine matter; it is also rather 
 harder of digestion. Besides, it is more nutritious 
 than any other variety. Sweeter, however, as it is, 
 and consequently less happily adapted to the pur- 
 poses of dazly food, it is subject to the same general 
 rules in preparing it for the table. 
 
 Following out the general principle, that the 
 simpler the method of ‘cooking the better for 
 health, it is not difficult to say what are the best 
 methods of preparing this valuable esculent. Boil- 
 ing, baking, steaming and roasting, are all of them 
 simple processes, and none of them objectionable. 
 If there be a preference, it is in favor of roasting 
 in the fire. 
 
 To the pure appetite, there is a richness of the 
 potatoe roasted in hot embers, for which we look m 
 vain elsewhere. Perhaps it is owing to. the fact, 
 
THE POTATOE. pe 153 
 
 that all its properties are preserved unimpaired ; 
 whereas, in boiling, if none of its properties are 
 actually lost, some of them may be impaired, 
 
 The best method of roasting the potatoe, is to 
 take away the ashes of a good fire quite to the 
 hearth, lay down the potatoes in a single layer, 
 cover them with hot embers to the depth of an 
 inch or so, and then build a good fire over them. 
 In this way, and m a reasonable time, they will 
 usually be found light and excellent. Once it 
 was thought necessary, first to fill the interstices 
 and just cover the surface with cold ashes, before 
 putting on the hot embers; but the former mode 
 is preferable. 
 
 Those who wish to be very nice, may find it 
 pleasant to wrap each potatoe, when well washed, 
 in a piece of brown paper, wetted just so that it 
 will adhere, before committing it to the embers. 
 In this way it comes forth in a more cleanly 
 condition, and is sooner made ready for the table. 
 This method is also preferable for those who eat 
 the skins. ‘The latter I do not recommend ; but 
 like the skins of apples, as well as many other 
 vegetables, if not too much changed by cookery, 
 and if well masticated, the skins cannot be particu- 
 larly objectionable. 
 
 The various methods of baking and steaming 
 this article need no particular description in this 
 
154 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 place. Next to roasting in the embers, they are 
 unquestionably the best in use, and some regard 
 them as preferable even to roasting. 
 
 Boiling is the most universal mode of editing 
 the potatoe. It is, moreover, a very convenient 
 process. More care, however, is required to render 
 it dry and mealy than in roasting, steaming or 
 baking ; and strange as the assertion may seem, 
 there are very many house-keepers who suppose 
 themselves perfect in the art of cookery, who do 
 not understand the art of boiling potatoes. 
 
 Some do not boil them enough. This, however, 
 is not so serious an evil; since we are not obliged 
 to eat the inner, unboiled portion. But a still 
 greater number do not boil them well. ( 
 
 One reason why boiled potatoes sometimes are 
 not good is, that they are unripe or otherwise 
 imperfect. Potatoes, in order to be perfect, should 
 be planted in a proper soil, and at a proper season ; 
 and if manure is used at all, it should be that sort 
 of manure which ts best adapted to the crop itself, 
 and also to the kind of soil to which it is applied. 
 There is a certain kind of relation, I should rather 
 say opposition, in the character of soils and ma- 
 nures, which deserves to be attended to. For 
 want of the necessary knowledge on this subject, 
 or for want of a disposition to use the knowledge 
 which is possessed, a large proportion of the pota- 
 
THE POTATOE. 155 
 
 - 
 
 toes which are used in our families are more or 
 less watery, or at least far from being as mealy 
 as they might be. The more mealy a potatoe is, 
 as a general rule, the better flavored and more 
 healthy it is; but of those which are truly mealy, 
 there is a great difference in their flavor, A 
 truly perfect potatoe, perfectly roasted, steamed or 
 boiled, is almost as delicate an article of food as a 
 loaf of bread, though not so nutritious. 
 
 The best and most perfect potatoes may be so 
 badly boiled as to be comparatively unfit for the 
 table, while those which, though mealy, are some- 
 what inferior in richness and flavor, may, by supe- 
 rior cookery, be rendered vastly their superiors. 
 
 Potatoes may be boiled either with or without 
 the skin ; but I prefer the former mode until some 
 time in the winter, after which it is best to pare 
 them. Great care should be taken to see that 
 they are thoroughly washed in the first place. No 
 judicious farmer will neglect this point, even in 
 boiling them for his swine or cattle—how much 
 more, then, should it be attended to in their pre- 
 paration for the table! 
 
 The water should boil before the potatoes are 
 put into it; and the quantity of water should be 
 so great, if practicable, that the boiling may con- 
 tinue, notwithstanding the quantity of heat suddenly 
 abstracted by their addition and presence. 
 
156 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 When they are boiled, the water should be sud- 
 denly poured off. Then they may be immediately 
 taken up, or may remain in the covered pot a 
 few moments till they become thoroughly dry. I 
 believe they are rather more mealy in the latter 
 case, than if taken up wet with the water in which 
 er are boiled. 
 
 Some boil them so long that they fall to pieces 
 in the pot, and become soaked; or at least they 
 become injured in this way before they reach the 
 table. Others boil them so slowly that they appear 
 to lose much of their excellence. ‘The more rapid 
 the boiling, and the shorter the time they remain 
 in the vessel, provided the process of boiling is 
 thorough and complete, the better. 
 
 It has been said, and I think with truth, that 
 while the boiling of potatoes is an art which 
 belongs to every house-keeper, scarcely one in a 
 hundred appears to understand it. Many even 
 seem to think an occasional failure unavoidable. 
 
 The American lady, says the Boston Medical 
 Intelligencer for October, 1826, who shall teach 
 her sex how to boil a potatoe, will deserve public 
 honors and a civic crown. This may, at first 
 view, seem a reward rather above the merit of the 
 discovery ; but are we quite sure it is so ? 
 
 - “There are, we will suppose,” says the work 
 referred to, “ten millions of potatoes put into the 
 
THE POTATOE. 157. 
 
 pot every day, in these States; of which, proba- 
 bly, not more than two millions come out fit to eat. 
 Now the difference between seven or eight mil- 
 lions of potatoes well or ill cooked, daily, is no 
 small concern, especially if we multiply the amount 
 by three hundred and sixty-five, to make it a 
 yearly statement. 
 
 “We know that soil, clicn ote: and season have 
 their favorable or unfavorable influence on this 
 vegetable ; but it is still true, that bad cookery 
 spoils more potatoes, otherwise good, than all the 
 droughts, inundations, heats and colds; and bad 
 soils, in this country. Count Rumford, in one 
 of his essays, speaking of potatoes, as much in 
 reference to the mode of boiling them, as of their 
 native properties, says, an Englishman knows noth- 
 ing of the luxury of an Irish potatoe.” 
 
 * Potatoes, to be perfect in this way, should be 
 boiled entirely alone ; except, perhaps, with the 
 addition of a little salt. ‘The old custom of boiling 
 them with other vegetables is objectionable, but 
 less so than that of boiling them with meat, espe- 
 cially fat meat. The last custom is more than 
 objectionable ; it is, to a pure stomach, next to 
 ee: 
 
 It is commonly said that a potatoe is most 
 agreeable immediately after it is boiled; and to 
 those who cannot eat anything which is not hot 
 
158° THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 enough to endanger their mouths, it may be so.. 
 But it is more wholesome and scarcely less mealy 
 a short time after boiling, when it has had time to 
 cool a little; and to an unperverted taste and. good 
 appetite, quite as agreeable. It is even pleasant 
 and wholesome for twenty-four hours or more after. 
 boiling, to those who are accustomed to its use; 
 and nothing is more common than for laborers to 
 prefer it six, eight or twelve hours after boiling. 
 That it is more heavy, as it is termed, in these last 
 circumstances, is no more an objection to it, where 
 the relish for it is equally keen, than the fact that 
 bread is more solid, and cannot be swallowed in 
 quantities so great, when cold, is an objection to 
 the use of the latter. Both require more mastica- 
 tion when cold than when hot ; and both are less 
 liable, when cold, to be taken in too large a quan- 
 tity. And, to a reflecting mind, this is one of 
 the strongest arguments which could possibly be. ° 
 brought in favor of this method of using them. 
 
 Among the various other uses of the potatoe are 
 the following. ‘They are named in the order 
 of their departure from what I consider to be its 
 most perfect state, as already described., 
 
 Masuep Porarors.—The potatoe is least in- 
 jured by simple mashing. Some persons have a 
 great fondness for mashing almost everything they 
 
THE POTATOE. — 159 
 
 The only evil to which the potatoe is then’ 
 subjected is, that it is rendered a little softer, and 
 demands a little less of trituration and insalivation. 
 Ido not despair, in this inventive age, of the dis- 
 covery of some simple method of preparing the 
 cooked potatoe in such a way, as shall tax the 
 masticatory organs more than now, instead of 
 care their labor. 
 
 Porator Breap.—Potatoes with flour, are 
 sometimes used for bread. M. Parmentier, a 
 French chemist, says that if the starch be collected 
 from ten pounds of raw potatoes, by grating them 
 into cold water and agitating the mass properly ; 
 and that if the starch thus procured, be mixed 
 with other ten pounds of boiled potatoes, and 
 properly subjected to fermentation, like wheat flour, 
 it will make as good bread as the finest wheat. I 
 know not how this is, having never witnessed the 
 experiment. 
 
 In times of scarcity, however, I have repeatedly 
 known good, sweet and wholesome bread, prepared 
 from wheat flour and boiled potatoes, in the pro- 
 portion of about eighteen pounds of the former to 
 nine of the latter. Dr. Darwin speaks of this sort 
 of bread in terms of high praise. Steaming or 
 roasting the potatoe for the purpose, by rendering 
 it more dry, would probably make the bread stil; 
 
160 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 better. From experiments recently made in’ Bos- 
 ton, I believe that the unbolted wheat meal is better 
 for the purpose than flour. However, I regard 
 this as an unnatural use of the potatoe, and unless 
 in times of scarcity, of little value to a country > 
 abounding in bread stuffs which are better. 
 
 Porators anp Mitx.—lIn eating the potatoe 
 in milk, its character is not materially altered. The 
 only serious evil which it involves, is the neglect 
 of the teeth and the salivary glands. 
 
 Poraror Sour.—Potatoe soup is more objec- 
 tionable, because the potatoe is in a state which 
 requires less mastication. If anything oily is mixed 
 with the soup, it adds to its indigestibility. 
 
 Mashing with turnips, aside from the fact that 
 butter, pepper, &c., are often added to the mix- 
 ture, would not be much worse than simple mash- 
 ing without any mixture. 
 
 The addition of pepper, mustard, horse-radish, 
 and above all, of vinegar, to potatoes, is an abuse 
 of still greater magnitude and flagrance. The 
 only condiment which ought, at most, to be used 
 in this case, is a little salt. 
 
 I have known pies made of potatoes; but the 
 potatoe is so changed, that whether injurious or 
 not, it does not, in this form, deserve attention, 
 
THE POTATOE. 16] 
 
 “ Hasu.”—Minced victuals, or hash, that is, 
 potatoes, turnips and other vegetables, chopped 
 finely and mixed with meat, to which pepper and 
 other condiments are added, is a still wider depar- 
 ture from simple nature. The fact that so many 
 healthy people eat and highly relish it, and _per- 
 ceive no bad effects from it, no more proves it to 
 be healthy, than the fact that many healthy people 
 have long used coffee and tea, and even spits, 
 with apparent impunity, proves these things also to 
 be healthy. 
 
 Mashed potatoes, with butter, gravy and other 
 condiments, or potatoes in any form in connection 
 with oily substances, are fully believed to be highly 
 improper for the healthy stomach. 
 
 Frirp Porarors.—But of all human folly 
 connected with the art of cooking the potatoe, is 
 the practice of slicing and frying it. It is some- 
 times fried alone; at others, with apples, onions, 
 and other vegetables; and sometimes with meat. 
 In some of the southern states, even the sweet 
 potatoe is fried, in precisely the manner of our 
 common dough nuts. 
 
 In the spring, it is well to cut off a slice from 
 the smaller or seed end of the potatoe, before it is 
 
 coaked, because this part is apt to be watery ; and 
 11 
 
162 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 unless cut off, may injure the rest of the potatoe. 
 Care should also be taken of potatoes in the spring, 
 to break off the sprouts as fast as they appear. 
 
 Potatoes keep in the freshest state in the cellar, 
 if not too damp; but I prefer putting them in an 
 upper chamber or garret, as soon as the weather is 
 so mild that they will not freeze. Lastly, and as 
 a universal rule, potatoes and/all other vegetables 
 should be kept as cool as possible, provided they 
 are not in any danger of being touched by frost. 
 
 “If you wish to have potatoes mealy, do not 
 let them stop boiling for an instant,” says Mrs. 
 Child. “In Canada, they cut the skin all off, and 
 put them in pans to be cooked. over a stove by 
 steam. ‘Those who have eaten them, say they 
 are mealy and white looking, when brought upon 
 the table, like large snow-balls.” 
 
 One thing remains to be told respecting the 
 potatoe. Being of a poisonous family, everything 
 which indicates imperfection in it, indicates at the 
 same time, an approach to the poisonous charac- 
 ter. Small potatoes, and those which, though 
 large, are less mealy, are less healthy ; still it is 
 not quite correct to say they are poisonous. But 
 those which, during their growth, protrude from the 
 earth, and have a green ape oe believed 
 to be actually poisonous. 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 BEANS AND PEAS. 
 
 Beans and peas produce flatulency. Why. How they should 
 be cooked and used. Green peas and beans. Their pods. 
 Bread of peas and beans. Puddings. Pea soup. Bean 
 
 ' porridge. 
 
 Tue complaint has been almost. universal, that 
 peas and beans, especially the latter, produce 
 flatulence, and are heating and indigestible. Some 
 even say they contain little nourishment. Nothing 
 better shows the superficial views taken by most 
 writers on diet, than these statements. ‘The truth 
 is, that beans and peas, instead of containing 
 “ittle nourishment,” are among the most nutri- 
 tious substances which enter the human stomach. 
 Indeed, it is owing to this fact, more than to any- 
 thing else, that they have been accounted indiges- 
 tible. There is, indeed, a great difference in both 
 of them, in regard to nutritive properties ; but five 
 ounces of those which are least nutritious, contain 
 more nutriment than eight ounces of the best beef 
 steak or ordinary butcher’s meat. 
 
164 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 As to their heating and flatulent tendency, this 
 arises, in part, from wrong methods of cookery. 
 Rice prepared in the same way, that is, with fat 
 meat or butter, and eaten hot and with other things 
 which usually accompany beans, would produce 
 the same ‘effects, in a degree. The fault, there- 
 fore, I repeat it, lies chiefly in our modes of cook- 
 ing and eating them. 
 
 They should be cooked in pure water, and 
 nothing should be added to fit them for the table, 
 but a little salt. They should also be eaten 
 for breakfast; and either alone or with bread. 
 Those who are vigorous, and who dine as early 
 as twelve o'clock, may eat them at dinner, if they 
 prefer it ; but breakfast is the best hour; and they 
 should never be eaten at evening. 
 
 I have said they should be eaten alone, or with 
 bread. At first, ] would make at least two thirds 
 of the meal of good coarse bread ; but 1 would 
 afterwards gradually withdraw. the bread, till the 
 beans or peas constituted the principal: part of the 
 meal. In this way—and if the other two meals 
 and our general habits were healthy—we should 
 hear little more about their flatulence. 
 
 One or two conditions more are indispensable, in 
 regard to the cookery of these substances. ‘They. 
 should be prepared so slowly, that they may 
 remain whole as much as. possible; and with so 
 

 
 BEANS AND PEAS. 165 
 
 little water, that they are perfectly dry and mealy. 
 They should also be ripe, or at least full grown 
 It is not only bad economy to eat peas and beans 
 before they are half grown, but it is bad for 
 health, or at least comparatively so. It cannot be, 
 in the nature of things, that green pulse is as 
 wholesome as that which is ripe. Still, green peas 
 and beans, if properly cooked, are very tolerable 
 food compared with many other things. They 
 may be baked or boiled, but are best baked. | 
 
 The pods of beans and peas are still more 
 unwholesome than their green contents. They 
 are unwholesome boiled ; but they are still more 
 so when pickled. The pods of the species of 
 bean, frequently called in New England the cran- 
 berry bean, are more wholesome, when boiled with 
 the young bean itself, than most others; but it 
 were better to avoid even this. 
 
 Let not the reader regard these views of beans 
 and peas as mere theory. Daniel and his three 
 friends at Babylon, are not the only persons with 
 whom pulse has agreed, when eaten as it should 
 be. I could produce others who would attest to 
 the truth of what I have said, from: their own 
 experience. No man can be more sure of their 
 flatulent tendency than I once was. Yet I can now 
 eat a whole meal of either of them, once a day, 
 with the most perfect impunity. The fault, I repeat 
 
166 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 it, is not so much in the nature of the food itself, as 
 in the heat, and butter, and meat, and pepper, and 
 vinegar, and bees a: and softening, which are 
 added. 
 
 In some countries, and under some circum- 
 stances, it has been common to form these sub- 
 stances into bread. ‘This seems to me entirely 
 useless, if people would follow the directions I 
 have given above ; nevertheless, for those who are 
 willing to be at the trouble to prepare it, a suitable 
 proportion of pea meal in bread, is by no means 
 unwholesome. ‘The best bread of this kind, is 
 made of three fourths rye flour, and one fourth 
 peas or beans. ¥ 
 
 The meal of peas and beans is sometimes 
 formed into puddings; but in this state they are 
 objectionable. It is, indeed, the same thing as to 
 boil or bake them, and then form them into a pulp 
 by mashing ; and is attended, usually, with the 
 same results. : 
 
 Pea soup, though very grateful in cold weather, 
 is neither so wholesome nor so digestible as the 
 pea itself, properly baked or boiled. ‘The same 
 inay be said of bean soup, or “ bean porridge,” as 
 ‘it was formerly called. | 
 
 Here I am aware I shall oppose a very preva- 
 lent opinion among the plain old fashioned people 
 of our community.. They tell us our ancestors 
 
~ 
 
 BEANS AND PEAS. 167 
 
 lived much on bean porridge, and yet were re- 
 markably healthy ; and they seem to sigh for a 
 return to their primitive habits. Now that bean 
 porridge is quite as wholesome as many of the 
 mixed and_ high-seasoned dishes, usually found 
 upon our modern tables, I will not pretend to deny ; 
 but that any liquid food can ever be as wholesome, 
 to the healthy, as the same amount of nutriment 
 when in a solid form, is to my mind most evident. 
 Had our ancestors, along with the rest of their 
 good habits, lived on bread and milk instead of 
 bean porridge, we, their offspring, at least most 
 of us, should have enjoyed far better constitutions 
 of mind and body, than we now do. 
 
 I have often smiled to hear people complain 
 of the degeneracy of modern times, and especially 
 of the feeble constitutions of both males and 
 females, particularly the latter—and yet in the 
 next breath laud some of those very habits of our 
 ancestors, which I have no doubt have had a pow- . 
 erful influence in producing the very degeneracy 
 
 complained of. 
 
 But I must still insist on the usefulness of peas 
 and beans themselves, when properly baked or 
 boiled, notwithstanding the fashionable fears. ‘They 
 are not to be eaten at every meal, it is true, 
 but only as an occasional breakfast or dinner ; say 
 two, or three, or four times a week. In this way, 
 
~ 
 
 168 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 they are useful, and more than useful; they seem 
 to me almost indispensable. Alluding to this 
 subject, Dr. Paris observes—‘“ It has been said 
 with some truth, that nature would seem to point 
 out the necessity of mixing such food with other 
 grains, for the soz/ becomes exhausted unless it is 
 alternately sown with grains and pulses ; whereas, 
 by such an alternation, the ground is preserved in 
 a condition to afford a constant supply of nutri- 
 ment.” Every intelligent agriculturalist knows 
 the correctness of the principle to which Dr. P. 
 refers; and he who has reflected on the subject, 
 will be apt to derive from it, as he does, a strong 
 argument in favor of variety in human diet—not, 
 indeed, at the same meal, but at different ones. It 
 is at least a strong analogy. 
 
CHAPTER XV. 
 
 BUCKWHEAT AND MILLET. 
 
 Buckwheat pancakes. In Germany, used for bread, pud 
 dings, &c. Hulled buckwheat. Anecdote of Peter the 
 Great. Buckwheat bread in Boston. Millet. 
 
 Tuere is a wide difference of opinion among 
 intelligent farmers in regard to the nutritive qualities 
 of buckwheat. Some affirm that it is worth almost 
 as much for swine and some other animals, as 
 wheat or corn, while others appear to regard it as 
 nearly worthless. The truth is probably some- 
 where between the two extremes. 
 
 Buckwheat pancakes, sometimes called slap- 
 jacks or flap-jacks, were formerly much used 
 throughout the eastern and middle United States. 
 They were in special demand during the winter ; 
 and are, in many places, very fashionable still. 
 They are a very inferior kind of food, but are most 
 wholesome when eaten alone and nearly cold, or 
 with a: very little milk; whereas, they are com: 
 monly used hot, and with molasses; or, what is a 
 thousand times worse, covered with melted butter, 
 
170 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 It is quite common also, to allow children to dip 
 pieces of these cakes in the gravy of meat, espe- 
 cially fresh meat, fried. In this way, they are 
 quite as bad as when deluged with butter, _ 
 
 Few, I trust, will use buckwheat in any form, 
 in a country where there is a rich abundance 
 of wheat, rye and corn. The better way, for the 
 most part, is to leave it to oxen, swine, poultry, 
 birds, squirrels and mice, to whom of right it belongs. 
 Peter the Great, however, claimed a right to the 
 use of it. He is said to have eaten it boiled, with 
 butter on it; but we are not told how the bulls 
 were disengaged. Hulled buckweat could not. be 
 very bad food. Su 
 
 I am told that some families in this city have 
 acquired the art of forming buckwheat flour into 
 loaves of tolerable bread—tolerable, 1 mean, so far 
 as the taste is concerned. Still—I repeat it—it is 
 a heavy, pasty substance, and not very wholesome. 
 
 Mitutet.—This is much used in eastern coun- 
 tries, as food for horses and cattle, and t6 fatten 
 poultry. It is also sometimes used by the peasants 
 of Europe for bread. It is, however, more fashion- 
 able to make it into puddings ; and some prefer it 
 in this way to rice. In America, or at least in New 
 England, it would be bardly worth cultivating. _ 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 ' THE BEET, CARROT AND PARSNIP. 
 
 Richness of the beet. Boiling, steaming, baking and roast- 
 ing it. Pickled beets. Medicinal properties. Nature of 
 the carrot. Fit only for strong, healthy stomachs. Sea- 
 soning it. Does it prevent intestinal worms? Medicinal 
 effects. The parsnip. How kept. Should it be eaten 
 young? 
 
 Tue beet, next to the potatoe, is the most nutri- 
 tive esculent root which comes to our tables. It is 
 not only nutritious, but, if properly prepared, easy 
 of digestion. Its agreeable flavor, moreover, ren- 
 ders it generally acceptable. It contains a very 
 large quantity of sugar,* but not much farina or 
 meal. 
 
 The best ways of cooking the beet are boiling, 
 steaming, baking and roasting. Boiling is the most 
 common mode. The time requisite to boil the 
 beet well, is said to be about an hour and a half. 
 
 * Of some kinds of beet, fourteen pounds are said to pro- 
 duce a pound of sugar. Great efforts are now making, in 
 many parts of our country, to introduce this species of 
 _ manufacture among us. 1) 
 
Liz THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 There are many fine varieties of the beet; but 
 the deep red beet, of a size rather large, is thought 
 by many to be the richest and best. 
 
 Willich says that some less flatulent root, such as 
 parsley, celery, or even potatoes, ought to be used 
 with the beet ; but, if eaten slowly and in moderate 
 quantity only, it does not often prove flatulent to 
 healthy people. The last mentioned writer recom- 
 mends it for supper, to which I am decidedly 
 opposed. None of the esculent roots ought to be 
 used at supper, not even the potatoe. No wonder 
 there is so much flatulence in a world where, after 
 a long day of bodily and mental fatigue and ex- 
 haustion, people are allowed to eat things for 
 supper which require the strongest efforts of i 
 digestive powers. 
 
 The pickled beet is quite a favorite among us, 
 but it ought never to be eaten. It is also said, 
 that the beet is sometimes stewed with the onion, 
 but that if eaten in great quantity, in this way, is 
 injurious to the stomach. ‘The fried beet is still 
 more injurious. I ought to say, in closing my 
 remarks on the beet, that its mild laxative pro- 
 perties render it most happily adapted—if care is 
 used about the quantity—to regulate the habits 
 of those who are inclined to costiveness. Were 
 mankind duly enlightened in physiology and hy- 
 giene, we should find less dependence on medicine 
 
THE BEET, CARROT AND PARSNIP. 173 
 
 than we now do. A proper attention to food, 
 drink, air and exercise, would equally prevent such 
 a necessity. | 
 
 Tue Carror.—This, in many respects, resem- 
 
 bles the beet, but is more difficult of digestion. 
 Like the beet, it contains a Jarge proportion of 
 sugar, and is very nutritious. It is best when 
 boiled, steamed or roasted. 
 The carrot, like other esculent roots—the pota- 
 toe itself not excepted—must be used in small 
 quantity by those whose stomachs are not firm and 
 strong. And if such persons attempt to make a 
 whole meal of it, salt should be added, and perhaps 
 spice. ‘To the strong and vigorous, the spice 
 would be injurious; and I would advise others to 
 do with the article when spiced, as some one ad- 
 vises his readers to do with cucumbers, after having 
 prepared them in fine style—throw them away. 
 
 It is said by some writers, that this esculent has 
 the property of destroying, or at least preventing 
 the development and growth of intestinal worms. 
 This opinion may or may not be well founded. 
 Whatever gives permanent tone and strength to 
 the stomach and bowels, and through them to the 
 whole system, has a tendency to destroy or pre- 
 vent the formation of worms; but whatever, on 
 the contrary, weakens the system, favors their 
 
174 . THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 development and growth. The carrot is, at all 
 events, slightly laxative. 
 
 Tue Parsnip.—This, also, is quite as nutritive 
 as the beet and the carrot, and somewhat less 
 flatulent than either ; and is easily digested. Iam 
 not fond of it, nor of the carrot; on account of 
 its sweetness. If properly boiled, however, and 
 eaten as an occasional meal, when the stomach is 
 in full strength, it cannot be objectionable. . Pars- 
 nips should be kept in the cellar; and should be 
 excluded from the air by being covered with sand. 
 
 These three roots—the beet, the carrot and the 
 _ parsnip—are said by many dietetic writers to’ be 
 ‘best while young. I do not know how this is; 
 though I can easily conceive, that in these circum-— 
 stances, they may be more easily digested as well 
 as more nutritious; but it does not thence follow 
 that they are more wholesome. » 
 
CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 THE TURNIP. 
 
 Character of the turnip. Use made of it by the Romans. 
 _ Mashing it. 
 
 Turnipes are less nutritive than most other escu 
 lent roots; but if well boiled or roasted, they 
 cannot be a bad article of diet, for occasional use. 
 They are too innutritious to be used long without 
 bread, or some other solid and more substantial 
 aliment. ‘They are somewhat deceptive in their 
 effects on the stomach ; for though they sit easy, 
 they have too little nutriment to form a very rich 
 or nutritious chyle; and hence, perhaps, it is, that 
 physicians have been divided in sentiment respect- 
 ing their wholesomeness. ‘There is, however, a 
 great difference in the quality of turnips. Some 
 are much richer and of a more uncloying sweet 
 than others. They are slightly laxative; which 
 renders it necessary to avoid using them at too 
 many successive meals. | 
 
 The ancient Romans, in the best period of their 
 republic—so Dr. Paris says—lived much upon the 
 
176 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 turnip ; and I have known several healthy old men 
 who made it a principal article of their diet. It 
 cannot, therefore, be as inefficient, as many persons 
 suppose 
 
 “It is quite customary to mash the turnip, before 
 it is eaten; and to mix it with mashed potatoe, 
 and to add butter, salt and pepper ; and sometimes 
 sauce or gravy besides. Now this is quite incor- 
 rect. It should never be mashed except in the 
 mouth ; and if this were even admissible, it should 
 not be peppered, or above all, buttered; nor should 
 it be mixed with other substances. 
 
 When will people learn to avoid this artificial 
 mashing of their food? Multitudes seem to think 
 they cannot eat so much as a potatoe, until it is 
 mashed and something is. added to it. Their 
 beans and their rice even, must be mashed and 
 reduced as much as possible to a soft slippery 
 mass, that will elude the teeth and tongue, and the. 
 salivary action. Whereas, nothing ought to be 
 mashed before it is eaten, which can as well be 
 eaten otherwise. ‘This is a universal rule—almost 
 as much so as that two and two make four. 
 
CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 THE ONION AND RADISH. 
 
 Dr. Paris's opinion. Modes of cooking the onion. How to 
 preserve it. Radishes. Objections to their use. 
 
 Great use is made of the onion in the United 
 States; but I do not regard it as a very valuable 
 esculent, except for medicinal purposes. It is 
 somewhat stimulant and heating, as well as diu- 
 retic. Dr. Paris says it certainly contains a 
 considerable proportion of nourishment; but his 
 manner of expressing his opinion appears to me, 
 to imply doubts of the truth of his own statements. 
 He relates, moreover, from Sir John Sinclair, that 
 a Scotch Highlander, with a few raw onions in his 
 pocket, and a crust of bread or some oat cake, can 
 travel to an almost incredible extent, for two or 
 three days in succession, without any other food. 
 This is not very strange, however. Who could 
 not travel, with crusts of good bread in his 
 pocket, if in sufficient quantity? There is no 
 better food in the world for a person who is to 
 
 * travel violently a few days, than this; but I 
 12 ‘ 
 
178 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 have yet to learn that the raw onions would add 
 much to the amount of real sustenance. ‘They 
 
 might serve as a condiment. 
 
 a 
 
 Since, however, the onion is much in fashion, it 
 may be well to say that the best method of cook- 
 ing it is either by boiling or roasting; and the 
 worst by frying. The fried onion, either alone or 
 
 ~ with apples, potatoes or meat, is exceedingly mdi- 
 
 gestible and unwholesome; and to any but a 
 perverted taste, highly offensive and disgusting. As 
 a medicine, it is sometimes very properly used raw. 
 
 Onions should be kept very dry ; and the more 
 
 they are kept in the open air, provided they do 
 
 not freeze, the better. At all events, they should 
 never be kept in a cellar after March. It is said 
 that boiling onions in milk and water, greatly 
 diminishes their strong taste. ik 
 Garlics and chives belong to the same ee 
 family of eatables with the onion, and require the 
 same general remarks. ‘The chives, however, are 
 greatly inferior both to the garlic and the onion. 
 
 Tue Rapiso.—Radishes, thouvh often eaten, 
 are miserable things; not so much because they 
 contain but little nutriment, as because they are too 
 acrid and stimulant, and withal, very indigestible, 
 especially when old. They produce much flatu- 
 lence, also, unless in the very strongest stomachs. 
 
 ry 
 
CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 THE SQUASH, PUMPKIN AND TOMATO. 
 
 The squash. Boiled. Made into pies. The pumpkin. 
 Pies. The tomato. 
 
 Tue squash is usually eaten in an unripe state. 
 It is roasted, boiled or baked. Boiling is the most 
 common mode of cooking it. There are few 
 persons who are fond of it, however, in its simple 
 state ; and hence few are fond of it at all. They 
 are more fond of the butter and other seasoning 
 applied to it. Some of the better sorts of squashes 
 are permitted to get nearly ripe before they are 
 gathered ; and a few varieties will keep with care 
 till winter. The squash simply boiled, when ripe, 
 and pies with an under crust, made of coarse meal, 
 or even without crust, are by no means among the 
 worst kinds of food. 
 
 The squash should never be kept in the cellar, 
 unless to. prevent freezing. Dampness greatly in- 
 jures it. It requires a dry warm room to keep well. 
 
 The pumpkin is seldom if ever used till quite 
 ripe, which renders it better food than the squash. 
 
180 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 Some of the new settlers of the western states, 
 when they first locate themselves on the soil, are 
 said very frequently to alternate their corn bread 
 and cakes with roasted pumpkins; and they deem 
 them wholesome. Plain sauce from them, when 
 boiled or baked, is almost equally common. But 
 pumpkin pies are, in almost all parts of New 
 England, as well as other regions of the United 
 States, regarded as quite a luxury. The common 
 method of making the crust renders them objec- 
 tionable ; but if, as was proposed in regard to the 
 squash, in the last paragraph, the crust were made 
 more simple, an objection would remain, which is, 
 that this species of food does not require mastica- 
 tion enough. Nor is it, after all, very nutritious. 
 
 Tue Tomaro.—Of the tomato or love apple, 
 I know very little. It is chiefly employed as a 
 sauce or condiment. No one, it is_ believed, 
 regards it as very nutritious; and it belongs, like 
 the mushroom and the potatoe, to a family of 
 plants, some of the individuals of which are 
 extremely poisonous. Some persons are even 
 injured, more or less, by the acid of the tomato. 
 Dr. Dunglison says it is wholesome and valuable ; 
 but a very slight acquaintance leads me to a differ- 
 _ ent opinion. 
 
CHAPTER XxX. 
 
 CABBAGE, LETTUCE, GREENS, &c. 
 
 Cabbage of little value. How best adapted to use. Boiled. 
 Raw. Sour crout. Eaten with ham and chesnuts. Let- 
 tuce. Anecdote of Galen. Greens and celery. 
 
 Tue chief claim of the cabbage to our attention 
 is founded on the fact, that it is one of the com- 
 paratively few things that can be preserved during 
 the winter. And yet it is far inferior to the pota- 
 toe, the beet, the carrot, the parsnip, the apple, 
 the pear, and even the onion. Still, as many 
 will eat it, if they like it, in defiance of conse- 
 quences, it may be well to say a few words 
 respecting it. 
 
 For those whose stomachs have preserved their 
 original integrity, or who having once lost it have 
 since regained it, cabbage is best when boiled, 
 with a little salt. It needs to boil about an hour. 
 The addition of vinegar, after it is boiled, renders 
 it more quickly digestible, but the vinegar injures 
 the stomach more than the cabbage would by 
 digesting a little more slowly ; and therefore I 
 
182 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 cannot advise its use. For the stomach, as it is — 
 usually trained, and as we find it almost every- 
 where in life, weak and inefficient, and unable 
 to work without the application of “whips and 
 spurs,” I suppose that raw cabbage, sliced fine 
 and eaten with pepper, salt and vinegar, is the 
 most useful form of this vegetable; and next to 
 this, the German sour crout. 
 
 I do not say that this sour Grout is the most 
 palatable preparation of the cabbage for the 
 table, except to those who have been trained to it 
 from infancy ; but only that it is digestible, nutri- 
 tious, and little injurious to the powers of: the 
 stomach. This is one of the dishes which Capt. 
 Cook made use of among his sailors, in his long 
 voyages round the world; and'I have no doubt it 
 had, on them, in these circumstances, a most 
 happy medicinal effect. No one ‘will, for one 
 moment, however, be likely to suppose that the 
 cabbage was as useful as many other vegetables 
 would have been, could they have been preserved 
 in an equally healthful and perfect state.» 
 
 Willich says of the red cabbage, by which I 
 suppose he must mean the purple, that as the 
 French and Germans eat it, that is with ham and 
 chesnuts, it is indigestible, heating, flatulent and 
 laxative, and contains no nourishment. ‘That the 
 ham would be indigestible there can be no doubt ; 
 
CABBAGE, LETTUCE, GREENS, ETC. 183 
 
 and it would probably require stronger stomachs 
 than most we meet with now-a-days, to digest a 
 combination of ham, cabbage and chesnuts. 
 
 Lerruce, &c.—Lettuce, greens and celery, 
 though much eaten, are-worse than cabbage, being 
 equally indigestible without the addition of con- 
 diments. Besides, the lettuce contains narcotic 
 properties. It is said of Galen, that he used to 
 obtain from a head of it, eaten on going to bed, 
 all the good effects of a dose of opium. Tor 
 condiments, when eaten, oil and the -yalk of eggs 
 have been often added to it; but some prefer a 
 mixture of salt, vinegar, and sugar or molasses. 
 It is at best hard of digestion, and contains very 
 little nutriment ; and if eaten at all, should be eaten 
 in the morning, or when the stomach is strongest. 
 
 All these crude substances seem to me uncalled 
 for, and unnecessary. Why should the healthy 
 stomach be filled with such trash, when it would 
 relish and even prefer that which is, to say the 
 least, less doubtful? For variety’s sake, will it be 
 replied? But we have variety enough without it. 
 Besides, few people will eat-such things without 
 vinegar, oil, pepper, or some other objectionable 
 substance added to them. 
 
 One person, in conversation with me on this 
 subject, said that he believed greens could not be 
 
 “ 
 
184 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 unwholesome, for he knew a man who was in 
 the constant habit of using them every spring, 
 for several years, and yet remained remarkably 
 healthy. “But,” said I, “did not the same 
 person eat bacon daily, during all this time?” 
 ‘“‘ Most certainly,” he replied. And which do 
 you think is worst, bacon or greens?” ‘ Bacon, 
 by far.’ “But do you think that the fact, that 
 he ate bacon without immediate suffermg, proves 
 that too to be harmless?” ‘Oh no, by no means.” 
 “Then why do you make such a ‘conclusion, in 
 regard to greens ?”’ . | 
 
 As to the gourd, it is not much used, in this 
 country, as food; but its pulp is a favorite dish 
 among the lower classes of people in Arabia and 
 Egypt. ‘They boil it, or make it into a sort of 
 pudding, by filling the shell with rice and meat. 
 
 One word, in. this place, respecting asparagas. 
 The young shoots of this plant, boiled, are the 
 - most unexceptionable form of greens with which I 
 am acquainted. They approach, in their nature, 
 to green or half grown peas, and are probably 
 about as wholesome. 
 
CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 ARROW-ROOT, TAPIOCA, SAGO, &c. 
 
 Nutritive properties of arrow-root. Made into jelly. Eaten 
 with rice. Sago. Mushrooms. 
 
 ARRow-ROOT is one of the most nutritious vege- 
 table substances in the world. Salep, sago and 
 tapioca, and even the starch of the potatoe, have 
 a very strong resemblance to it in their properties, 
 but are none of them quite so purely nutritious. 
 
 As a sort of substitute for other forms of food, 
 especially in bowel complaints, the jelly formed 
 from these substances is exceedingly valuable. 
 Arrow-root is not only valuable by itself, but ts 
 often very useful mixed with rice. I have seen 
 these two substances, in various proportions, admin- 
 istered to the sick and the feeble, with great evi- 
 dent advantage, especially where there was much 
 unnatural heat or febrile action. For the consump- 
 tive, sago appears to be more particularly adapted 
 than either of the others. 
 
 None of these substances, notwithstanding the 
 great amount of nutriment they contain, are so 
 
186 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 digestible as is generally supposed. We are pro- 
 bably. deceived, by their quiet, unstimulating char- 
 acter. ‘This comparative guzet we mistake for 
 agreement ; but this is not the end of the matter. 
 I have sometimes wondered how sago, and 
 arrow-root, and tapioca jellies and puddings came 
 to be so popular, even at fashionable tables, as we 
 often find them. But the fact is, that they are. 
 precisely that sort of substances which admit and 
 even demand, a great many additions, as milk, 
 sugar, sauces and condiments; and they require 
 but little mastication. ‘These, though objectionable 
 in point of health, are, to the fashionable, high 
 qualifications. Yet the only condiment which is 
 at all compatible with health, in this case, seems 
 to. me to be milk or cream. To the perfect 
 stomach they are, like. nearly all other substances, 
 the most wholesome alone, taken as an occasional 
 breakfast or supper. Still, they do very well -con- 
 joined with bread, or even with mealy potatoes. 
 
 Tur Musnroom.—Strange that mankind should 
 ever have used the mushroom. All the ‘various 
 species of this substance are of a leathery con- 
 sistence, and contain but little nutriment.. The 
 condiments or seasonings which are added are 
 what are chiefly prized. Without these, we should 
 almost as soon eat saw dust as mushrooms. ) 
 
CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 ON FRUITS IN GENERAL. 
 
 Second grand division of aliments. Principles interspersed. 
 Apology for the order and arrangement. 
 
 Tue second grand division of human aliments 
 is fruits. ‘These, with some exceptions, I have 
 endeavored to place, like the farinacea, in what 
 appears to me to be the order of their value. 
 
 I have also interspersed with my remarks on 
 almost every article, but especially in the chapters 
 on apples and pears, much collateral and general 
 information. I have done this for two reasons— 
 first, because the thoughts seemed naturally to 
 arise, while treating of these subjects, and as I 
 supposed might naturally arise in the same connec- 
 tion in the minds of many of my readers; and 
 secondly, because I was willing, by extending a little 
 some of the principal chapters on fruit, to inculcate 
 or at least suggest the idea of their great importance. 
 Fruits, as a real and essential part of human diet, 
 at our daily meals, have, for the most part, been 
 stranvely and unaccountably overlooked. 
 
188 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 There is a prejudice among us against foreign 
 medicines ; but in order to be consistent, we ought 
 to extend our prejudice to foreign drinks and 
 aliments. There may be, and undoubtedly is, 
 some general truth in the doctrines upon which this 
 prejudice is founded ; nevertheless, as I conceive, 
 they are carried too far. Were our foreign imported 
 aliments perfect i in their kinds—fruits among the 
 rest—I should have less objection to their use than 
 I now hae But it does seem to me very unrea- 
 sonable to use imperfect, unripe, dried or half- 
 decayed substances, merely because they came 
 across the water, in preference to our equally rich 
 
 and more perfect domestic productions. 
 
 The fruits which have been made the subjects 
 of remark in the progress of the following chap- 
 ters, are principally the following :—The apple, 
 pear, peach, apricot, nectarine, strawberry, rasp- 
 berry, blackberry, whortleberry, gooseberry, cur- 
 rant, cherry, plum, melon, fig and raisin. ‘To 
 these are added, for the sake of convenience, 
 the chesnut, walnut, hazlenut, peanut, &c. The 
 chesnut most properly belongs in the same general 
 division with peas and beans. 
 
CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 THE APPLE. 
 
 The apple one of the Creator’s noblest gifts. Varieties of 
 this fruit. Little used for food. The apple very nutni- 
 tious. Sweet apples. Rules for selecting the apple. 
 Raw apples best. Baked apples. Why apples sometimes 
 “ disagree.’’ Five rules for learning to use apples as food. 
 Apples for breakfast. Accompaniments. Boiling apples. 
 Apple sauce. Danger of putting it in home-made earthen 
 vessels. Stewing apples. Baking and roasting. Baked 
 apples and milk. Apple dumplings. Puddings. Bird’s 
 nest puddings. Fried apples. Preserves. Mince pies. 
 Improved mince pies. Other preparations of apples. 
 Apple bread. All apples should be perfect. Never cook 
 green apples. 
 
 Tuer apple is one of the noblest gifts of the 
 Creator to man. It may be raised, in a tolerable 
 degree of perfection, in almost every country of 
 the temperate zone; and to some extent, in the 
 torrid. 
 
 One society in Europe has twelve hundred 
 varieties of this fruit; and in a single garden at 
 Flushing, Long Island, may be found four hundred 
 and thirty. 3 
 
190 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 The apple has hitherto been but little used for 
 food. It has, indeed, been mixed with meat to 
 form a very unwholesome compound, well known 
 by the name of mince pie; and it is sometimes 
 used to form pies by itself. But the most familiar. 
 and frequent use of it at the table, in the interior 
 of New England, is in the form of what is usually 
 called apple sauce—the more common method 
 of preparing which consists in boiling the apples 
 in sweet or unfermented cider. In general, how- 
 ever, as I have already said, the apple has been 
 used comparatively little at meals. 
 
 I do not know what are the respective propor- 
 tions of nutritious and innutritious matter contained 
 in the apple. ‘These doubtless vary greatly, ac- 
 cording to the quality. From the great amount 
 of saccharine substance contained in the sweet 
 apple, and from experiments recently made on its 
 use among domestic animals, not a doubt can 
 remain that it is sufficiently nutritious to be received 
 at our tables, and to hold a more conspicuous place 
 there than has usually been allotted to it. 
 
 I have known many families of children who, 
 during the latter part of summer and the early 
 part of autumn, lived almost wholly upon apples, 
 and yet seemed well nourished and healthy. I 
 think I have observed, however, that such children | 
 incline a little more to verminous diseases than 
 
THE APPLE. i 
 
 other children, as well as to bowel complaints and 
 corpulence. ‘This is probably because they eat 
 them between their meals, use them in too large a 
 quantity, and do not make a proper selection. 
 ‘They eat much of this sort of fruit which: is unripe 
 or imperfect. | 
 Indeed, most ‘kinds of the apple, as it is usually 
 procured by children, are of an inferior quality. 
 Very little pains has been taken among the mass 
 of our farmers to cultivate the best kinds. ‘They 
 have been raised, after all, chiefly for cider; and 
 the notion that small, sour, knotty apples make 
 the best cider, has been so extensively prevalent, 
 along with a want of enterprise or any hearty 
 desire for improvement, as to prevent the intro- 
 duction, to any considerable extent, of such: noble 
 fruit as the New York, Pennsylvania and, New 
 Jersey pippins, and the New England pearmains, 
 greenings, seek-no-furthers, gilliflowers and russets, 
 . Sweet apples are probably more nutritious than 
 sour ones, although the fact that the latter make 
 nearly or quite as much cider as the former, would 
 seem to prove that even these are sufficiently nutri- 
 tious for al] the purposes of health. Few persons 
 reject the turnip, the cabbage, or the tops of the 
 asparagas, on account of any supposed deficiency 
 of nutritious matter; and yet I cannot resist the 
 belief, that good, ripe, mealy sour apples, not too 
 
 ly 
 
192 | THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 sour, are far more nutritious ; and that good sweet 
 apples are even as nutritious as the beet or the 
 carrot, if not as much so as the potatoe. 
 
 There is a very great difference in the quality 
 of apples. Some are much coarser grained than 
 others. Some are more dry. Some have thicker 
 and tougher skins. Some have their juices and 
 pulp better developed in particular soils or in dry 
 seasons, than in others. ‘There are a few general 
 rules which will probably assist us in the selection 
 of this important article of food. 
 
 1. The larger and more perfect apples on a tree 
 are usually the best. Not that apples naturally 
 small are not sometimes as good as those naturally 
 large; for I am not here speaking of a selection 
 from different trees, but from the same tree. 
 
 2. Apples from a given tree or stock are, as a 
 general rule, more perfect in their juices, more 
 wholesome, and probably more nutritious, in pro- 
 portion as their color is deep or intense. ‘Thus, 
 if the color is green, the more intense the color 
 the better. If light red, the fruit is more perfect 
 in proportion to the brightness. of the red. If 
 yellow, its excellence is in proportion to the depth 
 or intensity of that yellow. Any one may satisfy 
 himself of the truth of this remark, by a little 
 observation. ‘The remark may even be extended 
 to different trees. ‘Thus, of the fruit of two trees, 
 
 i 
 
THE APPLE. 193 
 
 both bearing dark green apples, that will usually 
 be the best whose color is most intense or perfect, 
 and that the worst whose color is most faint or 
 pale. The apple has a degree of life—a kind 
 of vital force or power ;—and this vital force is in 
 proportion to the perfection of its qualities. 
 
 3. The more mealy the pulp of an apple, pro- 
 vided it is not tasteless, the more digestible. I 
 know it is thought otherwise by most writers. 
 They tell us that both apples and pears are best 
 when they are most melting or juicy. They may 
 be more nutritious, without being any more diges- 
 tiole; and hence, probably, the mistake. I am 
 confident that the most juicy apples—sweet or 
 sour—are far from being most easy or most’ rapid 
 of digestion. 
 
 4. The perfection of an apple is somewhat in 
 proportion to the fineness and the firmness of its 
 pulp. A loose, spongy or stringy pulp is not 
 only less digestible, but less wholesome and nutri- 
 tious than one which is the contrary. 
 
 5. Apples with a thin skin, other things being 
 equal, are richer and better than those which have 
 thicker and tougher skins. 
 
 6. They should be eaten, as much as possible, 
 in their most perfect or most ripe state. 
 
 7. To preserve the apple in the most perfect 
 
 state, it should be kept in a pure and dry air. It 
 13 
 
194 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 1s not by any means uncommon, to put, apples in 
 a damp place; or in large piles, where they seem 
 to gather and retain moisture. ‘They are always 
 injured by this treatment, even though they should 
 not go so far, at once, as to begin to decay. 
 
 The apple is most conducive to health when 
 eaten in its raw or natural state; not merely 
 because in its natural state—the state in which the 
 Author of nature has prepared it, though even this 
 deserves our attention—but because in this way 
 . it requires and receives more perfect mastication. 
 If the skin is very hard or firm, possessing a sharp- 
 ness which the digestive powers cannot readily 
 overcome, it may be removed. The paring should 
 be thin, however, as the best of the apple is 
 believed to be nearest the skin. | 
 
 Baking or roasting renders most apples some- 
 what sweeter than they would otherwise be; but 
 it may justly be questioned whether the process at 
 all improves them—to say nothing of its lessening 
 the demand upon the teeth and salivary glands. 
 To say they are unwholesome in this state, abso- 
 lutely so, would indeed be wrong ; but to say that 
 for those who are in perfect healih, they are 
 usually more wholesome in their natural state, than 
 when cooked, is quite correct. It can hardly be 
 denied, that they are often more nutritious when 
 cooked ; but one of the advantages of fruits is, 
 
THE APPLE. 195 
 
 that they furnish to the stomach a supply of innu- 
 tritious substance. ip 
 
 ’ We are often told by adults—seldom if ever by 
 children—that raw apples do not agree with them. 
 If this circumstance proves anything against their 
 use, it proves too much. ‘There is hardly an 
 article of diet, however wholesome in its nature, 
 which has not been found to disagree with some 
 individual or other. Milk, rice, beans, corn, pota- 
 toes, corn bread, and almost every sort of bread, 
 and even.cold water, cannot be borne by some 
 individuals ; so they tell us. Will any one pre- 
 tend that they ought not therefore to be used ? 
 
 No doubt raw apples lie heavy on the stomachs 
 of some persons. For though the experiments 
 of Dr. Beaumont and all other experiments of the 
 kind, go to show that the ripe mellow apple, espe- 
 cially the sweet apple, is exceedingly quick and 
 easy of digestion, when used in a proper manner, 
 there are numerous circumstances of civic life 
 which may render it the contrary of all this. 
 
 1.. Apples may lie heavy on a person’s stomach 
 if he eats too many at once, especially when he 
 has long been unaccustomed to their use. Sucha 
 person should not begin with using a dozen or 
 two at a time. I would begin with half or one 
 third of an apple of moderate size ; or even less, 
 if this should not sit well. The quantity, when 
 
196 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 we have not taken too much at once in the outset, 
 may be afterwards slowly increased. 
 
 2. They may not sit well, if they are only half 
 masticated. Some persons never think of making 
 it a principle to masticate an apple as thoroughly 
 as possible. ‘This is not to be wondered at, in a 
 world where it seems to be the grand aim of every- 
 body to masticate their food as little as possible. 
 But though not to be wondered at, it is to be 
 regretted; for there is hardly anything which is 
 rendered slow and difficult of digestion by being 
 swallowed whole, in as great a degree as apples. 
 They ought to be reduced to as fine a pulp as 
 possible. | 
 
 3. Apples will lie heavy—more readily, perhaps, 
 than some other things which could be named— 
 when eaten after we have already taken a full 
 meal. ‘I’oo much of the simplest and most diges- 
 tible food is always an evil, but when to enough 
 and more than enough of something else, you add 
 a quantity of apples, and especially when only 
 half masticated, it is no wonder they do not agree. 
 
 4. Apples sometimes disagree when eaten be- 
 tween meals. If the stomach is ever so strong, it 
 will need rest when it has got through with the 
 work of digesting a meal. But if we go and eat 
 apples about the time the digestion is completed, 
 and thus, instead of permitting the stomach to rest. 
 
THE APPLE. 197 
 
 however fatigued it may be, set it to work again, 
 we can scarcely expect it to do its work well. 
 Nor can we reasonably wonder or complain, if it 
 should refuse to work at all, and the new substance 
 should be to it, for some time, as a dead weight or 
 foreign substance. . 
 
 5. The same lying heavy on the stomach will 
 often happen in consequence of eating fruit at a 
 wrong time of day, especially if a person is not 
 very robust. ‘Thus the feeble will sometimes bear 
 apples, if they begin with a small quantity and 
 masticate them well, in the morning, when they 
 cannot be made to sit well at evening. They 
 should be eaten by the feeble at their meals, and 
 when their digestive powers appear to be strongest. 
 With most, this is at breakfast; but with some, 
 perhaps, at dinner. 
 
 There are very few persons in the world on 
 whose stomachs apples appear to lie heavy, who 
 could not gradually bring themselves to use them 
 with impunity, by observing the cautions which I 
 have mentioned. 
 
 To the individual of perfect appetite—though I 
 do not yet know where such an individual can be — 
 found—the best way probably is to make a break- 
 fast—now and then—of apples alone. He must, 
 however, get rid of the fashionable idea that they are 
 not hearty enough ; and that they will not give him 
 
198 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 strength. No healthy man will suffer for want 
 of strength to labor, simply because he ate nothing 
 for breakfast but apples. They are fully as nutri- 
 tious as turnips, onions, asparagus, carrots and 
 beets; and sweet ones probably much more s0 ; 
 perhaps as much so as potatoes. — 
 
 He must, however, have full faith in them. He 
 who only half believes his breakfast will sustain 
 his strength, will be very likely to imagine a falling 
 off at eleven, just as the dram-drinker does, for 
 want of his dram; but he who does not expect 
 anything of the kind, will rarely experience it ;— 
 so powerful is the influence of mind over body. 
 
 For those, however, who in consequence of their 
 erroneous habits, early formed, cannot or think 
 they cannot receive these doctrines, or who would 
 feel that they were doing penance to confine them- 
 selves to a breakfast of even the best sweet apples, 
 I will give some further general directions. 
 
 Where apples are made a part only of our 
 meals, they should be conjoined with such things 
 as most resemble them in their tendency. I know 
 this is not the general belief. An entirely different 
 view is frequently taken. The principle is almost 
 universal, that contraries should be eaten to coun- 
 teract unfavorable tendencies. Vegetables, for 
 example, must be set off against meat, and meat 
 against vegetables ; and fruits which are juicy and 
 
‘ 
 
 THE APPLE. 199 
 
 pulpy should be conjoined, it is thought, with dry 
 bread or some substance not unlike it. Again, 
 sauces and preserves must be taken, it is thought, 
 with meat. . 3 
 
 The objection to this prevalent belief is founded 
 on the great leading principle, that each meal 
 should be as little complicated as possible. If 
 sweet apples are to form a part of a meal, instead 
 of using dry flour bread with them, I should prefer 
 sweet potaioes, pumpkins, beets, carrots, or even 
 common potatoes. Contraries I would withhold 
 till the next meal; though I would be careful to 
 use them then. 
 
 It is no wide departure, however, from physio- 
 logical truth to eat the apple in small quantity, 
 either at breakfast or dinner, with any article we 
 choose, which is wholesome. I have stated the 
 abstract truth, and happy is he who can live up to 
 it; but let us not complain of him who cannot, or 
 who thinks he cannot. Let him, also, who cannot 
 use the stronger food, be allowed for a time to use 
 that which is weaker ; provided, however, that he 
 comes up at all times, to his own convictions of 
 duty—his own standard of right and wrong—his 
 own conscience. 
 
 Much has been said by dietetic writers on the 
 importance of boiling apples, pears and other 
 fruits. They say it expels the wind. Now I 
 
200 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 doubt whether the wind in an apple would ever 
 give us any trouble, if the stomach was in a good 
 and sound state. If boiling the stomach would 
 give it tone, it might be well to boil that; but if it 
 has not tonic power enough to digest a good raw 
 apple at breakfast time, properly masticated, it is 
 high time it were tramed to do sa; and eating 
 boiled apples would probably weaken it rather 
 than strengthen it. 
 
 The truth is, that such stomachs as cannot digest 
 simple things have already been humored too long ; 
 they want solid things. We must begin of course 
 with small quantities at a time. He alone who 
 can eat a raw apple, is fit to eat a boiled one. To 
 him who can eat raw fruit, however, that which is 
 boiled is pretty near the physiological truth ; and 
 in this view I commend its use. I have already 
 alluded to apple sauce made by boiling down the 
 apples in sweet, unfermented cider. ‘This, next to 
 boiling, is one of the best modes of cooking the 
 apple ; and seems to be so common among us, that 
 it would be almost useless to declaim against it, 
 were it not so. 
 
 I must here insert a caution to all housewives, 
 who make apple sauce, pear sauce, quince sauce, 
 or any other sauce or article of food which con- 
 tains an acid, or in which an acid of any kind can 
 possibly be developed by any change to which it 
 
THE APPLE. 201 
 
 may be exposed by standing, not to put it in the 
 common red earthen vessels. ‘lhe reason is, that 
 these vessels are glazed with an oxyde of lead 
 which is readily dissolved by vegetable acids, 
 forming a poisonous compound. If the acid hap- 
 pens to be the acetic acid—the same with that 
 of vinegar—the substance formed is the acetate 
 of lead, or sugar of lead—as poisonous almost as 
 ratsbane. If it is some other acid that is formed, 
 still the result is a poison. Many house-keepers 
 have observed that the glazing comes off; but, in 
 general, without knowing the reason, or dreaming 
 of any danger. The lighter colored stone ware is 
 usually glazed with melted salt, which renders its use 
 for culmary purposes perfectly safe. On this sub- 
 ject, the curious reader may find some important 
 facts in the “ Library of Health,” for July, 1837. 
 
 The red earthen vessels of which I have spoken 
 are extensively used, and people are as extensively 
 poisoned. I’ew, indeed, die outright ; nor are the 
 causes of disease so obvious, in every instance, 
 that physicians at once detect them. Besides, 
 where these causes alone produce disease once, 
 they probably fall in with and aggravate other 
 diseases produced by other causes, a hundred or 
 five hundred times. 
 
 There can be no doubt that hundreds of lives 
 are lost every year among us by errors in cooking, 
 
202 . THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 ‘and in preparing food, drink, medicine, &c. But for 
 one who dies, hundreds, if not thousands, are more 
 or less injured ; some of them for their whole lives. 
 
 Next, in point of usefulness and safety to the 
 plain boiling of apples, is the process of stewing. 
 They are pared, cut into quarters, and after being 
 put into a vessel with a little water, slowly soft- 
 ened for the table. This is much better than 
 boiling them in cider, but is less economical, 
 because it must be repeated oftener ; since apples 
 prepared in the former mode, much sooner spoil. 
 
 Next to stewing come the processes of baking 
 and roasting. Indeed, I regard these three or four 
 processes of cookery as nearly on a par with each 
 other. Boiling is the most natural; stewing 1s 
 next, if they are not made too soft by it; next, 
 baking ; and lastly, roasting. | 
 
 There is a very general fondness, in this coun- 
 try, for baked apples with milk, especially sweet 
 ones. Of all the compounds used as food, this is 
 one of the most natural ; and it seems to me, to 
 be one of the slightest’ and least objectionable 
 departures from truth which can be named in 
 modern cookery. 
 
 Apple dumplings are not very objectionable, 
 were it not for the crust ;—I mean when they are 
 simple. If spices are added, they become inju- 
 rious. The great objection is the crust... This is 
 
THE APPLE. 203 
 
 a 
 
 usually a flour paste; nor is the state of things 
 much better when the paste is made partly of 
 potatoes. Unbolted wheat meal is preferable to 
 either. But why should we have the apple dump- 
 ling at all? Few would prepare it, or eat it after 
 it was prepared, were it not for the crust, and 
 above all, for the butter, the sauce, or the sugar 
 added to it; but all these are objectionable. 
 
 Apple puddings are so nearly of the nature 
 of the last mentioned, that it is sufficient barely to 
 mention them. There is, however, the bird’s nest 
 pudding, which is more than injurious, to say 
 nothing of the waste of time in its preparation. 
 To fried apples, as to all other fried food, I must 
 strongly object, and for the same reason :—they are 
 thereby rendered exceedingly difficult of digestion. 
 
 Apples preserved in sugar or any other similar 
 substance, are still further removed, if possible, 
 from a state of nature than in any of the prepara- 
 tions yet mentioned, if we except the fried state. 
 Drying apples, as it involves so much unnecessary 
 labor, is by no means to be encouraged. There is 
 no difficulty in preserving raw apples till June or 
 July, when new fruits begin to appear, if we take 
 the necessary pains; and though not absolutely 
 perfect in the raw state, after they have been so 
 long kept, they are nevertheless far better than if 
 preserved in any other manner. 
 
204 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 x 
 
 Perhaps, after all, the use of apples chopped fine 
 and mixed with meat, as in mince pies, is as objec- 
 tionable as any. ‘These mince pies, when made 
 in the best manner, are bad enough; but when 
 made up not only with lean meat, but with the 
 addition of suet, spices, raw and dried fruits, wine, 
 brandy, &c., and put into the usual forms of pastry, 
 they become—as Dr. Paris says of pastry alone— 
 an abomination. 
 
 The best and most rational method of making © 
 mince pie of which | have ever heard, was recently 
 communicated to me by a lady of this city. Its 
 principal excellency consists in the fact, that while 
 it retains all the sensible properties of ordinary 
 mince pie, it is comparatively simple, and contains 
 not a particle of meat or suet, or a drop of wine 
 or spirits ; and the crust is of unbolted wheat meal, 
 with no more butter than is just necessary to pre- 
 vent its adhering to the platter. It is quite a 
 discovery ; and is a most happy substitute for the 
 old fashioned mince pie. On this account I have 
 inserted in another place a recipe for preparing it. 
 Still, it is an article which I do not mean to 
 recommend to my readers. ‘There are many other 
 better modes of using apples than to use them in 
 any such compound, however great may be its 
 comparative innocency. 
 
THE APPLE. 205 
 
 As to pancakes, fritters, cheese, cheese cakes, 
 biscuits, trifles, jelly, marmalade and creams, pre- 
 pared with apples, they are scarcely worth naming. 
 
 Apple bread is a French preparation, which 
 appears to be comparatively unobjectionable, and 
 which I would not discourage, as an oceasional 
 variety for those who have not yet attained to that 
 simplicity of taste which is desirable. The mode 
 of preparing it will be found in the chapter of 
 recipes ; but I think the French mode is suscepti- 
 ble of improvement, especially by substituting 
 unbolted wheat meal for fiour. 
 
 Let me once more remind the reader that all 
 apples, however used, should be perfect. Some 
 persons begin to use them before they are more 
 than half ripe. ‘They stew them, make them into 
 sauces, pies, &c.; but not without the addition 
 of sugar, molasses, spices and other ingredienis. I 
 am wholly opposed to the use of green fruits of 
 every sort. ‘Ihe juices of all green fruits are very 
 different from those of ripe ones. ‘Their acids are 
 less wholesome than after they are changed by the 
 action of the sun in ripening; nor’ does the addi- 
 tion of saccharine substances in preparing them, at 
 all change their real nature. ‘They are still there ; 
 they are only concealed. ‘The oxalic acid is still 
 oxalic acid, cook green fruits as you will. No 
 culinary process—I repeat it—can be substituted 
 
206 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 for, or produce the effects of solar action. The 
 Creator, in many instances, by means of the sun, 
 performs the most perfect culinary processes ; and 
 nature is often the best kitchen and cook. 
 
 - Not only should all fruits be perfectly ripe, but 
 they should be perfect in their structure and char- 
 acter. Many people, in order to save them, use 
 the more perfect parts of those which are partially 
 decayed or infested with worms, for ‘pies or sauce ; 
 and seem to think that by the addition of season- 
 ings they remove, in some good degree, their natu- 
 ral evil tendency. Formerly, the worthless part 
 of our apples went to form cider; but now, since 
 cider is becoming unfashionable, those people who 
 wish to save every particle of their fruit, whether 
 wholesome or not, contrive to use it all up in the 
 family. I hardly need to repeat, that no imperfect 
 fruit is fit for the human or even the brute stomach, 
 at least so long as we live in a land-of such abun- 
 dance, and can, if we will, just as well have that 
 which is perfect. ; 
 
CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 THE PEAR. 
 
 Quality of pears. Bad ones. Baking and roasting pears 
 - Cautions in preserving them. Forcing maturity. Mealy 
 
 pears. Cultivation of the pear. Stewing. Drying. Pear 
 _ jam. 
 
 In general, what has been said of apples, will 
 apply to pears. Next to apples, they are one 
 of the best table fruits of our country. ‘They are 
 best uncooked. Those are usually preferable which 
 have the thinnest skins ; and those are most whole- 
 some, though they may not be to all at first the 
 most agreeable, which are most mealy. Their 
 excellence, moreover, seems to be, in some good 
 degree at least, in proportion to their sweetness. 
 
 There are in fashion among us, certain larger, 
 coarse grained winter pears, which I wish were 
 wholly set aside as injurious. For to say nothing 
 of the great waste of soil in occupying it with the 
 trees that bear them, it seems to me worse than a 
 waste—a perversion—of the powers and energies 
 of the human stomach, to fill it with such miserable 
 
208 * THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 trash. I know these pears are seldom eaten, how 
 long so ever they may be preserved, in an un- 
 cooked state. But, as a general rule which is at 
 least applicable to the fruits, I do not believe sub- 
 stances wholly unfit for the human stomach when 
 uncooked, can be made fit for its use by cookery. 
 The legitimate province of cookery, rationally pur- 
 sued, is, as I shall insist more strongly hereafter, to 
 improve substances already wholesome, or to in- 
 crease the quantity of their nutriment. ‘Thus 
 wheat.and corn, for example, even uncooked, are 
 quite nutritious ; but cookery, besides securing a 
 better mastication, appears to me to improve them ; 
 and this is undoubtedly the fact in regard to many 
 of the esculent roots, especially the potatoe. 
 
 The time may possibly come, when a cheap 
 method will be discovered of preserving, not only 
 apples and pears, but many other fruits, free from 
 decay, for almost any period desirable. But such 
 a time has not yet arrived; and though apples 
 may be preserved, with pains enough, for a long 
 time without much injury, it is seldom so with pears. 
 And, on the whole, I would not attempt it. Let 
 us make the most of them in their season ; and let 
 them be preserved as long as they can well be 
 without special effort; but let us do no more. At 
 least let us not think of preserving those coarse, 
 hard, tough, stringy, unpalatable things which are 
 
THE PEAR. 209 
 
 sometimes deemed so valuable, simply that we 
 may waste our precious hours during the winter, in 
 converting them, by the cooking process, and the 
 addition of sugar, molasses, and other things, into 
 a ‘substance, which, after all, is neither so whole- 
 some, nor to an-unperverted appetite so palatable, 
 as a good raw apple. We are responsible to God 
 and posterity for the use of our minutes as well as 
 our months; for our cents as well as our dollars ; 
 and have no more right to be selfish or wasteful 
 ‘of minutes and cents than of months and dollars. 
 If we must or rather will preserve any winter 
 pears whatever, let them be of the finer grained 
 sort; not of those which look within more like 
 the flesh of a sturgeon, than like anything delicate 
 or wholesome. | 
 
 Some sorts of pears which are merely hard and 
 ill tasted, provided they are not coarse grained and 
 stringy, may be rendered very agreeable and com- 
 paratively wholesome, simply by baking or roasting 
 them, without consuming more time than we should 
 dare to account for. 
 
 The cautions which were given against putting 
 apple sauce into the common red earthen vessels 
 of this country, are equally applicable to cooked 
 pears and pear sauce. 
 
 Rules are sometimes given by writers on die- 
 
 tetics for rendering apples, pears and other fruits 
 14 
 
210 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 prematurely mellow ; but all such rules are, as I 
 have already said, worse than useless. Fruits should 
 always become perfectly ripe in their own natural 
 way. And even those which ripen soonest on the 
 trees—a sort of scattermg first crop—are often 
 ~ imperfect in some way or other. 
 
 LT have spoken of both the apple and pear 
 as being preferable when the pulp is somewhat 
 dry and fine, and therefore need not repeat my 
 remarks. 
 
 It is much to be wished that more pains were 
 taken in New England to cultivate the pear, and 
 to select, in cultivating it, the best varieties. If 
 equa! pains were taken, I believe the pear might 
 become nearly as important an article of diet as 
 the apple. Not less than two hundred varieties, 
 fit for the table, are already known to our horticul- 
 turists; and one British society bas six, hundred. 
 Of these some are slightly acid, others slightly 
 sweet; and some exceedingly rich and sugary. 
 A constant succession of this fruit, as well as of the 
 apple, might be had from July to winter. 
 
 There are several methods of stewing pears, 
 drying them, &c., but they are not worth know- 
 ing. Pear jam is of still less consequence. The 
 only application of fire to this fruit, which is at all 
 tolerable, is in the process of baking, boiling, &c. 
 
CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 THE PEACH, APRICOT AND NECTARINE. 
 
 Stone fruits in general. Nature of the peach. Cooking it. 
 Drying. The apricot and nectarine. 
 
 THERE is a very great variety of opinion abroad 
 in regard to the peach; some affirming that it is 
 one of the most digestible and wholesome fruits in 
 the world ; others, that it is cold, indigestible and 
 unwholesome. 
 
 None of the stone fruits are probably quite as 
 wholesome, under any circumstances whatever, 
 as the apple and the pear, but are sufficiently 
 so, perhaps, to justify their use as an occasional 
 meal for those who believe in the importance 
 of variety at different meals. ‘They who think we 
 should confine ourselves, through life, chiefly to 
 one article of food, or even to a very few, should 
 not select the peach. Used day after day, it 
 appears to me it would soon injure the tone of the 
 stomach. ‘The stringy nature of this fruit requires 
 strong or at least active powers of digestion ; but 
 to persons possessing such powers, an occasional 
 
Q12 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 meal of the peach is comparatively wholesome. I 
 am not aware, however, that it is ever improved 
 by cookery, even by the simple process of baking. 
 And as to drying, no one ought, on the principles 
 mentioned in speaking of the pear, to think of 
 using dried peaches. 
 
 _ Tur Apricor anp Necrarine.—The apricot 
 so much resembles the peach, that the same gen- 
 eral train of remark will be alike applicable to 
 both. The nectarine, according to Dr. Paris, “ is 
 liable to disagree with some stomachs ;” but this 
 *‘ disagreement” is no test positive of the excel- 
 lence of a thing, in a world containing its hundreds 
 of millions of morbid or diseased stomachs. 
 
 The peach, the apricot and the nectarine, may 
 be used, in the morning, as a simple natural break- 
 fast for the healthy, after the stomach has had a. 
 good night’s rest; but I do not say how long the 
 practice might be persisted in with impunity. Ap- 
 ples, or pears, or bread, would indeed be better, 
 would the person be equally well satisfied. with 
 them; but if not—if there is a hankering after 
 variety, anda feeling that the peach, &c., are the 
 gifts of God, and that to abstain from them and eat 
 something else, however excellent, is a sort of self- 
 denial—not to say penance—then let them’ be 
 moderately used. 
 
CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 THE STRAWBERRY. 
 
 Prejudice against fruits—how unreasonable. Fruits a pre- 
 ventive of disease. Green fruits injurious. Market fruits 
 very imperfect. Cultivating the strawberry. General 
 laws of summer fruits. Strawberries for breakfast. Eaten 
 alone. Eaten with wine, sugar, milk, &c. Strawberries 
 and bread. Used for luncheon. Preventive of gravel 
 and other diseases. 
 
 A PREJUDICE against the summer fruits, which 
 _ prevails to some extent in this community, is not 
 confined wholly to the more ignorant. As lately 
 as the first appearance of the cholera among us, 
 not a few distinguished physicians retained more 
 or less of this unnatural and ill founded prejudice ; 
 and did not hesitate to proscribe the use of all 
 summer fruits as dangerous, and sometimes as the 
 exciting cause of the cholera. Facts, however, 
 did not long bear them out in these views. Multi- 
 tudes who lived exclusively on vegetables and 
 fruits—especially in New York—wholly escaped 
 the disease, while many of their friends who ab- 
 stained from fruits and vegetables, and used flesh and 
 fish, though living in the same house, fell victims. 
 
214 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER, 
 
 These facts served to confirm a doctrine which 
 had been advanced long before, and which was 
 repeated at this time, but which even wise men 
 were slow to admit—that instead of promoting 
 disease, the summer fruits, properly used, are most 
 happily calculated to prevent it.* 
 
 During the hot season, exposure to great heat 
 and a profuse perspiration, have a debilitating 
 effect on the skin, in which the whole lining mem- 
 brane of the intestinal canal, by a law of the 
 animal economy, is sure to sympathize. ‘The con- 
 sequence is, that the functions which are usually 
 performed, both in this canal and the parts imme- 
 diately adjoining it, are much disturbed, and some- 
 times the organs become feverish or inflamed. 
 These effects, if the causes I have mentioned con- 
 tinue to operate uninterrupted, may result either in 
 bowel complaint or fever. Probably no small 
 share of our cholera morbuses, diarrhceas, and 
 dysenteries, have their origin in this source. 
 
 Now it happens that just as the summer heats 
 begin to be severe, and the lining membrane of the 
 stomach and bowels begins to be uritable and — 
 
 * The author has maintained this same doctrine in an 
 anonymous pamphlet, entitled, ‘“‘ Rational View of the Spas- 
 modic Cholera,”’ published by Clapp & Hull, of this city, in 
 July, 1832, on the first appearance of the cholera in this 
 country. 
 
THE STRAWBERRY. Q15 
 
 feverish, the summer fruits begin to come on. 
 These, if ripe, usually contain a moderate propor- 
 tion of some gentle, cooling acid, with sugar, muci- 
 Jage and water. There is, indeed, a difference in 
 them, but they are all, when eaten in proper cir- 
 cumstances, exceedingly cooling to the intestinal 
 canal. So far are they from inviting disease, that 
 they actually have a powerful tendency to repel it. 
 
 But there is no valuable earthly blessing which 
 may not be abused. [Eaten green, or when we 
 have already eaten enough of something else, or 
 when we are over heated or over’fatigued, or when 
 the stomach needs repose, or when they are begin- 
 ning to decay, all summer fruits may prove inju- 
 rious, and defeat the very object for which the 
 Author of nature intended them. And yet these 
 are the circumstances under which, after all, most 
 of them are received. \ 
 
 One might think, at first view, that when they 
 are abundant, and cheap, and excellent, there 
 can be little temptation to use what is inferjor in 
 quality. And yet such is the eagerness of chil- 
 dren for these things, that, unless controlled, they 
 are very unwilling to wait for them to ripen, but 
 are ready to swallow them as soon as they begin 
 to change their color, and sometimes a great deal 
 sooner. Nor are children alone in this. Not a 
 few older persons, who ought to know and do 
 
216 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 better, are as little apt to govern themselves in this 
 matter as children. 
 
 The evil to which I now refer is not so great, 
 however, in the country as in the city. There is 
 scarcely a fruit in our market which is not brought 
 in long before it is ripe. The folly of purchasing 
 such fruit, is enhanced by the consideration, that it 
 is not only worse in quality than when ripe, but 
 much dearer. And yet, such is our natural eager- 
 ness for fruits, how few resist the temptation ! 
 
 Few summer fruits are more easily cultivated 
 than the strawberry. 1 know not how many 
 varieties of it there are, but they are numerous ; 
 and some of them make their appearance very 
 early. They may, however, he so managed as to 
 be had in one or another of their-varieties, for a 
 period of several months. The strawberry is not 
 only one of the earliest, but one of the most excel- 
 lent fruits—being not only very wholesome, but 
 highly delicious. The pulp is hght, though but 
 little watery ; and it does not very readily undergo 
 the acetous fermentation in the stomach. 
 
 It is truly surprising that so few persons, in our 
 country, ever think of cultivating the strawberry. 
 A few people around cities and towns raise it 
 expressly for the market; and a few more, espe- 
 cially of the wealthy, cultivate small beds or short 
 
 rows of it—rather, however, as an occasional treat 
 i 
 
THE STRAWBERRY Q1T 
 
 to themselves or their friends, than as a regular, 
 and important, and indispensable article of daily — 
 food. The far greater part choose to buy such 
 trash as they can get in the market, rather than:be 
 at the trouble to raise for themselves. 
 
 In the country, however, where the appetite is 
 somewhat less perverted than in the city, a more 
 extensive use is made of this fruit for a short time, 
 but it is seldom cultivated. ‘The wild species is 
 chiefly relied on. 
 
 I repeat it, however, most persons, in city or in 
 country, fail to secure to themselves all the benefits 
 they might from the use of fruits, were they to 
 understand the true philosophy of their nature and 
 use, and practice according to their knowledge. 
 To know how and when to use this single fruit— 
 the strawberry—-so as to derive from its use the 
 pleasure, the nourishment, and the health for which 
 nature intended it, is worth more than the knowl- 
 edge of whole chapters in the art of tickling the 
 palate with condiments and ingenious mixtures, at 
 the certain sacrifice of health and longevity. But 
 it happens that the same general rules which apply 
 to the strawberry, are applicable, with few modifi- 
 cations, to other fruits: ‘This will be a sufficient 
 apology for introducing, under the present head, a 
 few general principles which should govern us in 
 the use of all the summer fruits, 
 
é 
 218 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 The black mulberry, says the Encyclopedia 
 Americana, is “in perfection only for a few mo- 
 ments, and that at the time when it can be 
 detached from the tree by a slight shaking of the 
 branches.” Now the black mulberry is not wholly 
 singular in this respect. All the fruits, but-more 
 particularly the berries, are more or less subject to 
 the same law. Indeed, it is well known of the 
 strawberry, that it exhales the most delightful per- 
 fume, and that its flavor is the most exquisite, when, 
 on being perfectly ripe, it is first plucked from the 
 stem. ‘There can be little doubt, that the strength 
 of the odor and the intensity of the flavor of this 
 and other fruits, is always in proportion to their 
 perfection. I believe that as the mulberry is in 
 perfection only a “ few moments,” so the straw- 
 berry and the raspberry are almost equally short 
 lived. The blackberry may retain its perfection a 
 little longer; the cherry and plum longer still; 
 and the currant and gooseberry, perhaps, several 
 days—though of the gooseberry I am more doubtful. 
 
 Now the proper inference to be made from all 
 this is, that unless we raise these fruits for our= 
 
 selves, we are not likely to have them in per- _ 
 
 fection. ‘They will come to our tables too soon or 
 too late; unripe, or beginning to decay. And 
 though they may not make us immediately sick, 
 because we chance to eat them for once or twice 
 
THE STRAWBERRY. 219 
 
 when they are not absolutely perfect, yet who will 
 doubt that health and happiness, as well as the 
 immediate gratification of the senses, are most 
 favored by using them in their most perfect state ? 
 And following out this idea, who, if he could help 
 it, would ever buy them in a public market ? 
 
 I grant, most readily, that thousands among us 
 have their senses of taste and smell, even in very 
 early life, so blunted by the errors of modern 
 cookery, that they cannot distinguish the state of 
 absolute perfection of a fruit from its unripe or 
 half putrid state. ‘There are thousands, even of 
 children, to whom a strawberry is a strawberry, 
 though it be not quite ripe, or though it has begun 
 to putrefy. But their ignorance does not prevent 
 their suffering, sooner or later—in their own per- 
 sons or those of their posterity, or both—the pun- 
 ishment of their transgressions, however ignorant 
 they were in their commission. | 
 
 It were greatly to be wished that every person 
 would raise his own fruits—especially of the per- 
 ishable kinds of which I am now speaking. At 
 least he ought to see that they are raised in his 
 own neighborhood. 
 
 Like the other fruits I have mentioned, straw- 
 berries are most wholesome as the morning meal. 
 How pleasant to pluck them soon after sunrise, in 
 all their native richness and freshness! ‘The labor 
 
220 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 of gathering them, added to the rest of the stomach 
 during the night, is the best possible preparative 
 for their reception. In these circumstances, what 
 more elegant breakfast can possibly be prepared— 
 what more likely to raise the heart in thanksgiving 
 to the bounteous Author of all good—than a 
 basket or dish of strawberries, just from their native 
 vines and stems, with all the richness of fragrance 
 and deliciousness of taste, which in these circum- 
 stances cluster around them? And who 1s there, 
 that with his mixed, heating, heated, greasy break- 
 fast, might not well envy, were envy ever admissi- 
 ble, his more fortunate neighbor, that can command 
 for himself and his rising family, such simple, nutri- 
 tious, cooling, wholesome and truly philosophic 
 viands ? 
 
 But shall we then eat them alone? you will 
 perhaps ask. And I ask, in reply, Why not? 
 What objection is there—what objection can there 
 be to making an occasional morning meal wholly 
 of strawberries? Such breakfasts have been made 
 —and enjoyed, too—a thousand times. 
 
 If it is said that a laboring person will feel faint 
 before dinner-time after breakfasting on a meal of 
 nothing but strawberries, I answer that this proves 
 nothing against relying on them. It only proves 
 that when we do so, we feel at first, a want of the 
 stimulus which we have been long accustomed to 
 
THE STRAWBERRY. 221 
 
 use at our breakfast—whether a natural or an 
 unnatural one, the mere sensation of faintness does 
 not determine. The faintness will be felt when 
 we have omitted our bitters, our tea, our coffee, 
 our hot drink of any sort, our animal food, or our 
 condiments ; and sometimes when we have omitted 
 solid food and used only that which is liquid. It 
 is felt least, however, in proportion as our meals 
 are simple and our appetites unperverted. Even 
 when they are not so, we have only to repeat 
 the breakfast of strawberries a few times, and the 
 faintness wholly disappears ; and if followed by a 
 solid dinner, 1 mean one of bread or some more 
 nutritious and solid substance, we shall be as well 
 nourished, feel as much strength, and enjoy as 
 much gustatory pleasure, as in almost any other 
 way. 
 
 If it is said that fruits are not wholesome in the 
 morning, and this is a reason why we should not 
 make a whole breakfast of them, I reply, by deny- 
 ing the truth of the statement, antiquated as it 
 may be. ‘I’here is no time in the whole twenty- 
 four hours, according to the general testimony 
 of science and of dietetic writers, when fruits may 
 be more healthfully as well as pleasantly used than 
 in the morning ; and the prejudice against their 
 use must have arisen—so it seems to me—among 
 the intemperate or the gluttonous, whose tastes are 
 
222 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 so perverted that they never relish anything ganpley 
 especially on first rising. | 
 
 “ But why not use wine, or milk, or cream, or 
 sugar, with them? What possible objection can 
 there be to their use? ~=Whoever felt the worse for 
 using strawberries in milk, or with bread ?” 
 
 If it is a substantiated physiological truth—and 
 I suppose it is—that one article of food at a meal, 
 provided it is a wholesome article, (for a whole 
 meal of butter and cheese, or meat, would not be 
 so good as if its place was partly supplied by bread 
 or some wholesome vegetable,) is better than more, 
 then however quiet our stomachs may be, or how- 
 ever undisturbed our feelings, after a mixed meal, 
 it cannot be so conducive to health as a simple one. 
 We are very often injured, or at least not benefited 
 so much as we might be—which amounts to nearly 
 the same thing—by an article which sits upon our 
 stomachs perfectly well. When there is obvious 
 disturbance after a meal, or at least pain, we know 
 there is injury ; when all is quiet, there may ormay 
 not be. It is impossible, by our mere sensations, 
 always to tell. 
 
 Hence the principle that everything should be 
 eaten by itself, as preferable to being mixed with 
 anything else, even an article equally excellent. 
 But because the strawberry, like everything else, is 
 pest eaten by itself, it does not follow that it is very 
 
THE STRAWBERRY. 223 
 
 bad eaten otherwise. To be sure, the question 
 may arise whether we have a moral right to use 
 that which is inferior when we can just as well have 
 that which is better; nor can there be but one 
 answer to it. 
 
 Strawberries and milk, then, or strawberries and 
 cream, or strawberries and raspberries, or lastly, 
 strawberries and roasted apples—if old apples can 
 be found at this season which are tolerably perfect 
 —are among the best, that is, least injurious mix- 
 tures. Of all these, however, strawberries and 
 milk or fresh cream, are the best. They are also 
 tolerable with brown bread ; or. with bread made 
 of unbolted wheat meal ; or even with bread made 
 of the ordinary wheat flour, if not too new. 
 
 Sugar with strawberries—or any substance more 
 concentrated than milk or cream, I deem highly 
 objectionable. ‘There is as much sugar in the straw- 
 berry itself, if in a perfect state when eaten—and 
 if not, I repeat it, we ought to let it entirely alone— 
 as is well adapted to the most healthy condition 
 of our system. Honey, sugar, molasses, &c. are 
 too concentrated and too cloying in their nature to 
 be the most conducive to health. 
 
 Wine is still worse ; and yet there are numbers 
 who think the strawberry does not agree with them 
 unless mixed with wine of some sort; and many 
 prefer for this purpose the astringent or port wine. 
 
224 THE -YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 But such persons, if residing in the country, must 
 certainly have diseased stomachs. If-they reside 
 in the céty, and buy their fruits in the common mar- 
 ket, there is a natural reason why they should injure 
 them when wine is not added; and if it were abso- 
 lutely necessary to load the stomach with such 
 unripe and decaying stuff, I would say, take wine 
 with it, for once—and thus relieve the stomach of its 
 indigestible burden. But I would also sayy do not 
 load it again in the same manner. 
 
 It is disgusting to see healthy, sensible people— 
 sensible I mean in all other respects—putting wine, 
 a poisonous substance, into a rich bowl of perfect 
 strawberries. It seers to me like a kind of pro- 
 fanation. It is, to say the least, a foolish practice ; 
 but it is more, it is unreasonable. Nay, more still, it 
 ‘s unhealthy. The use of milk and cream does not — 
 seem quite so bad; but pray, why can we not “ let 
 well enough alone?”” Why reduce everything, or 
 almost everything we eat, to a monotonous state, so 
 as to make it smell or taste of some sort of grease 
 or condiment? Why not enjoy the full happiness 
 of all that variety which the Author of nature 
 intended? Why not eat milk by itself, and take 
 the benefit and the pleasure of it, unaltered by the 
 flavor or smell of fruits of any sort? And why 
 not take each fruit by itself, and enjoy the full 
 benefit of its peculiar flavor and fragrance, without 
 
THE STRAWBERRY. 225 
 
 making it smell and taste of milk? Is this continual 
 mixing of things a natural, or just, or sensible idea ? 
 
 I should hardly be disposed to object to an occa- 
 sional dinner of strawberries, provided the indi- 
 vidual had eaten a more solid breakfast, as bread, 
 or corn, or potatoes ; though I still think the break- 
 fast hour is the most appropriate time for fruits. 
 But I would not, ordinarily, use two meals, in suc- 
 cession, of strawberries. 
 
 Were luncheons at all allowable—for physiologi- 
 cally they are not, except for children—I would 
 say, that next to using fruits at breakfast, the 
 best time for them is at a luncheon, about mid- 
 way between breakfast and dinner. For laborers 
 who perspire much, and at ten or eleven o’clock 
 become thirsty, and who, imagining themselves 
 hungry as well as thirsty, demand food, nothing 
 can be better than a small quantity of ripe, perfect 
 fruit of some sort; and in its season, I know of 
 none better for this purpose than the strawberry. 
 
 I ought, perhaps, just to say, that it has been 
 set down by many dietetic writers as a preven- 
 tive of the gravel; and it is said, that persons 
 inclined to this disease should eat it with great 
 freedom. As a medicine, however, it is affirmed 
 that the wild strawberry is preferable to the culti- 
 vated. I believe that either is salutary. And 
 
 if it should turn out that the strawberry has no 
 15 
 
226. THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 specific tendency to the bladder, I should not be 
 greatly surprised. If the fact, that it prevents the 
 gravel should be owing to its general cooling, 
 healthful tendency, it would be just as important 
 that we should use it, as if it had a more specific | 
 tendency. Whatever promotes the general health, 
 tends to prevent the development of those particu- 
 Jar diseases to which individuals are predisposed. 
 In other words, the best preventive of disease, in . 
 every form, is good health. He who so lives, from 
 infancy to maturity, as to secure the most perfect 
 health of all his organs and their functions—if 
 such a person can be found—he it is who need not 
 fear disease. Fevers, pleurisies, bowel complaints, 
 gravel, colds, rheumatisms, consumptions, even, 
 have no terrors for those who act up to the dignity 
 of their own natures, physical and moral. Let 
 them be as much predisposed to these diseases as 
 they may, they cannot touch them. No person 
 should, in hot weather, omit so important an article 
 of diet as the strawberry ; nor must we forget to 
 use it in a rational manner. Its use should be 
 directed by the laws of God, in the human frame, 
 rather than imposed by an arbitrary and tyrannical 
 custom or fashion. 
 
 I hardly need object, after what has been already 
 said, to. preserves, jams, Nc., or to strawberry 
 puddings, pies or dumplings. | 
 
CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 THE RASPBERRY. 
 
 Medicinal character of the raspberry. Its varieties. Every 
 family should cultivate it, as they should the strawberry. 
 Difficulties. How overcome. Female labor. 
 
 THE raspberry, in its nature, is a good deal like 
 the strawberry, being cooling, gently laxative, and, 
 in the language of medical books, anti-septic—by 
 which is meant that it corrects, in the stomach and 
 bowels, especially during the hot weather, any 
 putrid tendency. It is also spoken of by foreign 
 writers as possessing the same general medicinal 
 properties. It is as nutritious as the strawberry, 
 and I am sometimes inclined to think more so; 
 and it does not more readily become acid in the 
 stomach. 
 
 The raspberry grows wild, in the greatest abun- 
 dance, in many parts of our country ; and even in 
 this condition is highly valuable as an article of 
 food. But it is, like the strawberry, easily culti- 
 vated ; and what renders it as worthy of our atten- 
 tion as the strawberry, if not more so, is the fact 
 
228. THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 that it flourishes so well in our northern climate, 
 and in wild, rocky places and light soils ; whereas 
 the strawberry requires a soil somewhat excellent. 
 It must, however, be admitted, that a good soil 
 improves the raspberry as much as it does the 
 strawberry. | 
 
 The raspberry, like the strawberry, is in a state 
 of absolute perfection only a very short time. 
 Still, by cultivating the different varieties—white, 
 purple, red, flesh-colored, yellow, &c.—by plant- 
 ing them at different times, and by, watching them 
 from day to day as we would our strawberry beds, 
 and collecting in the morning all such, and. such 
 only, as are in their perfect state, we may—if we 
 raise them ourselves—enjoy them for quite a long 
 season. ‘The small seeds of both the strawberry 
 and raspberry have been supposed to render them 
 hurtful, but I think their influence is favorable 
 _ rather than otherwise. Still, I cannot go so far 
 as to believe, with Willich, that the seeds of the 
 apple and the stones of the cherry are to be eaten 
 for the same reason ; that is, for the sake of promo- 
 ting the action of the intestines. 
 
 I do not, however, think it necessary or desira- 
 ble, that we should raise them to an extent which 
 would give a large family a full meal more than 
 two or three times a week, even in. the season 
 when they are in the highest perfection: for the 
 
THE RASPBERRY. 229 
 
 season of the strawberry and one or two other 
 fruits, would trench upon that of the raspberry, 
 and we certainly cannot consume everything. A 
 very small patch of ground is sufficient to give a 
 family several morning meals of each—the straw- 
 berry and the raspberry—and this, too, with little, 
 if any, interference with other employments. 
 
 I have made the last statement, because many 
 of my city and village readers, as soon as they 
 come to my remarks on the importance of having 
 each family raise its own stock of the short-lived 
 summer fruits, will begin to wonder how it can be 
 accomplished. Some suppose it will require the 
 employment of a gardener, native or foreign, and 
 this they think is beyond their means ; and so the 
 project will be given up. Some are merchants, 
 manufacturers, or mechanics ; and say they have no 
 time. Some will make one apology, and some 
 another; and the consequence will be, as I sup- 
 pose, that things will remain, after all, about as 
 they were before. But whether they know it or 
 not, all will be more or less influenced, in their 
 apologies and final neglect of the subject, by indo- 
 lence and the want of a desire for improvement. 
 
 That there are indeed some slight difficulties to 
 encounter, I am not disposed to deny. ‘The 
 greatest is a want of the necessary soil. And yet 
 of the whole number of those who are without 
 
230 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 this indispensable preliminary, three fourths, at 
 least, have it in their power to procure it, by pur- 
 chase or by hire, did they understand, in any good 
 degree, its importance. Most people might, in a 
 little while, make such changes in their external 
 circumstances, as would give them land enough on 
 which to raise their summer fruits. ‘There cer- 
 tainly is land enough in the world—nay, even 
 around our cities—to give each family a good-sized 
 garden spot. 
 
 One trifling difficulty is the want of a enagiaue 
 of the best method of raising these fruits. It 
 happens, however, that there is almost always 
 somebody to be found, especially around our towns 
 and villages, who can give the information required, 
 so far at least as to enable us to make a beginning. 
 But let only a beginning once be made, and expe- 
 rience will soon give all further needful instruction. 
 Admitting, however, no knowledge on the subject 
 could be had from the lips of any individual around 
 us, there is another and perhaps better way remain- 
 ing. ‘This is to get some popular work on garden- 
 ing, and begin with that for a teacher. In short, I 
 do not believe that a person can be found, who, 
 being fully convinced of the importance of raising 
 his own strawberries and raspberries, ever failed to 
 go on with it. A person quite awake to the sub- 
 
THE RASPBERRY. Q31 
 
 ject, will always find some means of acquiring all 
 the needful information. 
 
 Another difficulty still, will be the want of time. 
 But this is no sort of difficulty at all, when we 
 come to grapple with it. ‘There are few if any 
 families to be found, who cannot command the 
 necessary time for raising a few beds of strawber- 
 ries, and a small patch of raspberries. Tell me 
 not of the pressure of your employments, your 
 poverty, the necessity of your families, &c. It is 
 to relieve your pressure and necessity, and dimin- 
 ish your poverty, at least in part, that I am writing. 
 There are many shreds of our valuable time, 
 which, for want of some employment of this kind 
 and a disposition to use them, are lost to ourselves 
 and the world. Indeed, there is seldom a family 
 whose male members have not, every year, an 
 abundance of time which they might devote to the 
 accomplishment of all the purposes I have men- 
 tioned. 
 
 Suppose, however, it were not so. Suppose 
 it were utterly impracticable for any male member 
 of a family to attend to the department of horti- 
 culture of which I have been speaking. Are 
 there not females in the family? Do they not 
 need, for the sake of their health, this very exer- 
 cise? Compare them, degenerated as they are, 
 physically, with the females of the old world, and 
 
232 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 say whether they do not need more exercise in the 
 open air—the mother.of a family, especially. 
 
 Is it still said, How can the mother of a family 
 find time for this? I shall show how, in the latter 
 part of this work. I shall show how a very 
 large proportion of the time now wasted, and worse 
 than wasted in the repetition, at almost every meal, 
 of half a dozen or a dozen, hot or at least newly 
 prepared dishes, when nothing which can properly 
 be called cooking needs to be repeated, in any 
 ordinary circumstances of health, more than once a 
 day, or even as often as that. It may not be 
 improper, however, just to observe, that the saving 
 of time to the female head of a family and to her 
 daughters, durig a single season, by breakfasting 
 a part of the time on fruit uncooked, would be 
 amply sufficient for the purpose of cultivating and 
 gathering it. In other words, it will not take up 
 more time to cultivate and gather fruit for four or 
 five breakfasts (one kind at a time) in a week, 
 even if bread or bread and milk were taken at the 
 same time, than it now takes to prepare the same 
 number of breakfasts in the usual manner. Which 
 is the most pleasant, depends, I suppose, upon 
 circumstances, and especially upon early associa- 
 tions; but the answer to the question, Which is 
 most healthy, has, as I conceive, been long ago 
 settled. ‘ 
 
THE RASPBERRY. 233 
 
 The notion that out-of-door labor degrades a 
 female, must, as I conceive, be given up. Females 
 can never become what they ought to be, till they 
 are employed more in the open air. Walking— 
 and above all, that kind of movement abroad 
 which goes by the name of “making calls ”—. 
 can never answer the purpose. It is indeed better 
 than-no exercise at all, but it does not come up to 
 the real wants of female nature. It exercises, toa 
 much, some parts of the frame, and leaves, almost 
 without exercise, some of the others. Besides, 
 the mind and feelings are not enough refreshed 
 in mere walking. ‘There is something done to the 
 mind and body both, in cultivating and pruning the 
 grape vine, and in weeding, and watermg, and 
 attending the strawberry, raspberry, &c., which, 
 so far as I know, cannot be fully accounted for on 
 any known principles of philosophy. or physiology, 
 but which is as important to the female as to the 
 male ; perhaps more so. The pure air, the fra- 
 grance of leaves and blossoms, the natural color 
 for the eye to rest upon, and many more things 
 which I have not room to mention, come in 
 undoubtedly for a share in the result; but there 
 are probably other influences which as yet elude 
 our observation. 
 
 After devoting several pages to the consideration 
 of the raspberry, not excluding even the method 
 
934 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 of cultivating it, I shall not be likely to satisfy the 
 expectations of those who are unhappy unless 
 they are perpetually employed in something in the 
 shape of cookery, if I do not just allude to the 
 creams, jams, jellies, marmalades, pies, ices, waters, 
 vinegars, sherbets, sponges, drops, &c., which are 
 sometimes prepared from this rich and delicate 
 substance. But I shall only name them. ‘Those 
 who are determined to spend precious time in 
 making these useless preparations, must consult 
 other works for information respecting them. Like 
 most other books of little comparative worth, they 
 are sufficiently numerous; and sometimes suffi- 
 ciently expensive. 
 
CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 THE BLACKBERRY. 
 
 The best variety of this fruit. Raising it ourselves. The 
 Dewberry. Prejudice against the high blackberry. Anec- 
 dote to show how unfounded it is. Abuses of the black- 
 berry. 
 
 Tue blackberry, next to the strawberry and the 
 raspberry, is one of the best table fruits in our 
 country ; and one which merits much more atten- 
 tion from horticulturists than it has generally re- 
 ceived. ‘There are many varieties of this fruit, 
 both high and low. I think the low or running 
 kind the best, on the whole, though by no means 
 the richest or the sweetest. Both kinds, however, 
 are excellent ; and they are not near so perishable 
 as many other berries. Still they can be kept but 
 a very short time after they are plucked perfectly 
 ripe from the vines, especially the low or running 
 sort; and therefore it is that I would not advise 
 my readers to buy them from the market. They 
 may possibly be tolerable, bought there, but never 
 excellent. ‘The better way is to raise them, if you 
 
236 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 have a garden or field of your own; and if not, 
 buy them of a neighbor, with the pravilege of pick- 
 ing them for yourselves. You can far better afford 
 to give nine-pence a quart for them, if you pick 
 them yourselves, than if you buy them in the pub- 
 lic market. 
 
 The rules and remarks in connection with the 
 strawberry and the raspberry, will so generally 
 apply to the blackberry, that I need not repeat 
 them. The blackberry forms a most delicious and 
 nutritive breakfast now and then, for those who 
 possess a pure taste ; and if it isa little more astrin- 
 gent than the strawberry, it is nearly as wholesome. 
 
 The dewberry, though much smaller, appears to 
 be very nearly related to the low or running black~- 
 berry in its properties, especially in its astringency ; 
 but I think it less wholesome. Much, however, 
 depends on the soil in which it grows. On some 
 soils, and especially in particular seasons, I have 
 observed it to be much sweeter than on others. 
 
 There is a very strong prejudice, in many parts 
 of our country, against the high blackberry. It is 
 said to produce the dysentery; and to be always 
 dangerous, but especially so, when that malady is 
 abroad. I remember the time when I would almost 
 as soon have swallowed arsenic as this fruit—so 
 strongly had the impression been made on my mind 
 that it was injurious. The notion of its hurtful or 
 
THE BLACKBERRY. 237 
 
 dangerous tendency is probably ‘ part and parcel? 
 of the general prejudice which prevails in reference 
 to all fruits which come about the time, or rather a 
 little before, the arrival of the summer and autum- 
 nal diseases. 
 
 I remember to have become skeptical on this 
 subject at a very early period of my life. It was 
 not, however, till I became a medical student, that 
 I completely broke the spell in which my mind had 
 been bound. Residing in a neighborhood where 
 the dysentery was raging, and being often requested 
 to render gratuitous assistance, especially by watch- 
 ing with the sick, I was perpetually reminded of the 
 necessity of taking every proper precaution to pre- 
 serve health. In this state of things, the question 
 arose whether or not I ought to eat fruits, which 
 just at that time were abundant. Contrary to the 
 wishes of my friends, and in spite of the early pre- 
 judice which prevailed, I ate ripe fruits, especially 
 pears, very freely, through the whole sickly season, 
 and without apparent injury. I have since done 
 the same, and have known it done by others ; 
 always without apparent injury, and usually with 
 obvious benefit. Jam aware that a few instances 
 of this kind are not decisive of the question ; but 
 they have some weight on my own mind, and serve 
 to confirm opinions otherwise derived. I believe 
 that the high blackberry, used in moderation, for 
 
238. THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 an occasional breakfast, might prevent dysentery: 
 but would never produce it. 
 
 Blackberries are often made into pies, puddings, 
 &c. Blackberry jelly is also very common in fash- 
 ionable life ; and we sometimes hear of blackberry 
 powder. All these, however, as my readers will 
 of course expect me tosay, are objectionable. Our 
 blackberry pie is least injurious. Baked with a 
 coarse crust, of unbolted and unleavened wheat 
 meal, the berries retain much of their native excel- 
 lence. ‘They are not, however, so rich, or delicious, 
 or agreeable to a pure appetite, as when just plucked 
 from the vines and eaten in their native freshness ; 
 nor are they as wholesome. 
 
CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 THE WHORTLEBERRY. 
 
 Anerror. The whortleberry with milk. Not improved by 
 cookery. Varieties of this fruit. 
 
 Tue author of the work entitled “Sure Methods 
 of Improving Health and Prolonging Life,” says 
 that the whortleberry is very unwholesome. But 
 he gives no reasons why ‘it should be so; and I 
 have never heard or read anything which had 
 the slightest tendency to lead me to adopt such an 
 opinion. ‘These mere assertions, when confronted 
 by the experience of thousands, weigh but little. 
 
 If the whortleberry, for wholesomeness, is not 
 even superior to the strawberry, the raspberry, or 
 the blackberry, I am sure it is of the berries, the 
 next in order. It is at once agreeable, delicate, 
 rich, uncloying, nutritious, and easy of digestion. 
 It makes a most satisfying and wholesome break- 
 fast or dinner; and if there be a fruit—I do not 
 believe there is however—which is improved by 
 conjoining it with milk, it is this.’ I may say, at 
 least, that the two articles unite in the stomach 
 
240 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 more readily than almost any other two articles, 
 so widely different in their constitution, with which | 
 I am acquainted. Eaten with bread of various 
 kinds and with rice, if people will not eat them 
 alone, they are comparatively excellent. 
 
 But with what readiness soever they unite with 
 other articles of food, they are, of all other fruits, 
 most impaired in their excellent qualities, by being 
 made into pies and puddings, or by being cooked 
 in any other manner. It is a matter of utter 
 astonishment to me that any of the smaller fruits 
 ean be so highly esteemed as they are by many, 
 when half their native sweetness and excellence, 
 and nearly all their peculiar life and richness are 
 destroyed by cookery. The least amount of arti- 
 ficial heat appears to me to injure them; and an 
 amount of heat which is commonly applied to cook 
 the substances with which they are connected, 
 would render them insipid and almost worthless. 
 
 There are two sorts of whortleberries among us— 
 the black and the blue. Some prefer one kind 
 and some the other. I know not which is best, 
 when both are so excellent. Dr. Paris speaks 
 of the red whortleberry, but I have never seen it 
 in the United States. I have, however, usually 
 found the blue whortleberry rather the sweetest ; 
 though much depends, in regard to both, on the 
 dryness of the soil, and on the season. 
 
CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 THE GOOSEBERRY, CURRANT AND GRAPE. 
 
 Character of the gooseberry. When useful. The currant. 
 Used unripe. The grape. What varieties useful. 
 
 Tue gooseberry is less wholesome than most 
 of the small seeded fruits; but would be more 
 wholesome than it usually is, if people would not 
 swallow the skins, which being highly indigestible, 
 often prove a source of irritation to the stomach 
 and bowels. ‘The gooseberry approaches some- 
 what nearer to the cherry, in many of its. proper- 
 ties, than to the currant. 
 
 It cannot be denied, that if perfectly ripe and 
 well masticated, and the skins carefully rejected, 
 this berry forms a very tolerable article of food ; 
 and if it is somewhat lower in the scale of excel- 
 lence than the strawberry, raspberry and whortle- 
 berry, it is much lighter than the cherry or the 
 currant. It is slightly acid in its most perfect 
 state; but its acidity is highly agreeable to the 
 taste of most persons. ‘There are, however, sev- 
 
 16 ‘ 
 
242 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 eral varieties of the gooseberry ; some of which 
 are much better than others. 
 
 Gooseberry pies, puddings and sauces, are 
 among the more fashionable viands of the luxu- 
 rious; but if there were no other objections to 
 their use, when thus compounded with other articles, 
 their tough, indigestible and unwholesome skins 
 are against them. Of gooseberry creams, custards, 
 jams, preserves, marmalades, pancakes and vinegars, 
 I have nothing to say, for reasons which will be 
 obvious. ‘This fruit is also sometimes dried and 
 bottled. 
 
 Tur Currant.—Some will be surprised that L 
 regard this very common fruit—so easily raised 
 and so generally admired—as quite inferior, viewed 
 as an article of food, to all those which I have 
 mentioned. But thus it is. ‘Though extremely 
 fond of it myself, I do not believe it among the 
 most nutritious or the most wholesome of summer 
 fruits. I think that as an occasional article of 
 food, say used once a week or so for breakfast, it 
 may answer an excellent purpose ; but it seems to 
 me both too sour and too innutritious to be very 
 extensively and steadily used. So far as luncheons 
 are admissible at about ten o’clock in the forenoon, 
 the currant, especially the red and the white 
 species, is admissible. The black currant is among 
 
THE GOOSEBERRY, CURRANT AND GRAPE. 243 
 
 the most undeserving of the whole tribe of summer 
 fruits, and is scarcely worth the trouble of raising. 
 I am aware that it is sometimes used in fashionable 
 cookery ; but it is unworthy the notice even of the 
 fashionable. The flesh-colored species I have 
 never seen. 
 
 The currant is most used as food, so far as I 
 have observed, while yet unripe. [or this pur- 
 pose it is soaked, scalded and sweetened ; and 
 sometimes made into pies. In this form, it can 
 scarcely fail to be productive of disease. Its acid— 
 though in a riper state it is changed into the mild 
 and more wholesome citric or malic acids—is, while 
 green, injurious. Besides, its skins, at this stage 
 of its progress, are highly indigestible. 
 
 As a medicine, the juice of the ripe currant is 
 somewhat valuable; and the currant wine is quite 
 famous. Except as a medicine, however, I should 
 not recommend it; nor is it very often useful for 
 medicinal purposes. 
 
 Currant pies are, generally speaking, among the 
 most indigestible substances in the form.of pies ; 
 and the crust seems beyond the digestive powers 
 even of the ostrich. Need I speak here of bottled 
 currants, of currant water, currant gruel, currant 
 fritters, currant jam, currant jelly, currant sauce, 
 currant sherbet, and the like? ‘They may do to 
 speak of, as specimens of human weakness and 
 
244 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 folly, but not as fit substances for the human 
 stomach, especially while in health. 
 
 Tue Grare.—Most kinds of grapes which grow 
 wild, in this country, are very unfit for the stomach ; 
 and hence it is, that to those who know of no 
 other kinds, the encomiums which have been lav- 
 ished on them have been either misunderstood or 
 misplaced. Objections are, however, made to the 
 husks as well as to the stones ; and to the former, 
 in most instances, as I think, with good reason. 
 But the white, or rather light green, foreign or 
 Madeira grape, cannot be unwholesome in any 
 part of it, if thoroughly masticated. And as an 
 occasional breakfast, if eaten in this manner, I 
 know of few articles of diet more wholesome. I 
 speak, of course, without reference to the expense ; 
 for it is so expensive that few economical people 
 will venture upon its frequent use. © | 
 
CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 THE CHERRY. 
 
 Proper selection of cherries. Swallowing the stones. Its 
 evils. Drinking wine or spirits with cherries. No cook- . 
 ing into pies, puddings, &c., admissible. Varieties of the 
 ‘cherry. It should be eaten in the morning. 
 
 Tere are many varieties of the cherry—some 
 o: which are far preferable to others; and a few 
 of them are comparatively wholesome, if eaten 
 with proper cautions and restrictions. As a gen- 
 eral rule, they are far better food than the currant 
 or the gooseberry, if they are not almost equal to 
 the blackberry. 
 
 In eating cherries, care should be taken to select 
 those which have the thinnest skin, and the driest 
 pulp. Or whatever may be the thickness of the 
 skin, be careful to secure as mealy or dry a pulp as 
 possible ; and above all, be careful not to swallow 
 the stones or kernels. 
 
 lam aware that both these last opinions will 
 meet with opposition. The most juicy cherries are 
 usually most highly esteemed. But they are cer- 
 
246 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 tainly more flatulent in proportion as they are juicy ; 
 
 that is, they require stronger digestive powers. And 
 
 as to the general belief, so current that it has almost’ 
 become a maxim, that if we eat the stones of cher- 
 
 ries, the fruit will not hurt us, nothing can be more 
 
 untrue. ‘They ought to be avoided with the utmost 
 carefulness. It is true, that in a vast majority of 
 
 instances, they seem to cause no perceptible injury, 
 
 except a little of that irritation which other foreign 
 
 bodies of the same size—say little pieces of wood— 
 always have a tendency to produce, from the fact 
 that they are wholly indigestible ; and being so, the 
 digestive powers seem roused into action, some- 
 times a hittle violent, to resist them. And yet the 
 mischief may be far more serious. ‘There is a 
 region of the intestines, which such comparatively 
 heavy bodies find it difficult to pass; in which they 
 have been known not only to lodge, but to form 
 
 large concretions or calculi, which have finally pro- 
 duced death. A few examples of this sort are on 
 
 record ; and though this terrible result is not frequent, 
 
 no one who swallows cherry stones, can be certain 
 
 that the case may not be his. My readers will 
 
 judge for themselves, therefore, with how much 
 
 safety old maxims can be followed, simply because 
 
 they are old maxims—especially that in question, 
 
 which encourages a_ practice so unnatural, were it 
 
 not highly dangerous. ° 
 
THE CHERRY. QA4T 
 
 There is one objection to swallowing cherry 
 stones which I do not recollect to have seen men- 
 tioned. It is the danger of their falling into the 
 windpipe, or rather the danger of their’ producing 
 death, should such a thing happen. Tbe Author 
 of our natures has so wonderfully constructed our 
 throats, that if we pursue the work of masticating 
 and swallowing our food slowly and rationally, and 
 do not talk and laugh too much while we are 
 eating, it is scarcely possible for anything to get 
 into the windpipe; although everything we eat 
 and drink has to pass directly over the little open- 
 ing, at its top. But children, and even some 
 adults, do not*always eat rationally ; and hence it is 
 very common for small pieces of food to fall into 
 the windpipe, or, as it is commonly said, go the 
 wrong way. ‘These usually produce more or less 
 of immediate irritation and coughing, during which 
 they are often dislodged and thrown out ; but some- 
 times they remain. When they remain, especially 
 if they are soft substances, as pieces of bread or 
 fruit, they are gradually softened and removed by 
 absorption—or perhaps thrown out by a cough which 
 is but slight, and in pieces so small as hardly to be 
 observed. If they are hard bodies, like an uncooked 
 pea, or a cherry stone, they are sometimes coughed _ 
 up, but at others they remain; and when they 
 remain, they must sooner or later cause great trou- 
 
248 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 ble. If they cannot be removed by a surgical ape- 
 ration, which consists m opening the windpipe, on 
 the outside, and taking out the offending substance, 
 they will be very likely to cause death sooner or 
 later, either by ulceration or otherwise. Many 
 deaths are caused in this way every year; and the 
 cause of some of them may never he suspected. 
 The child “ gets choked,” perhaps, and coughs 
 for some time; but at length seems to get over it, 
 or so nearly over it that no one supposes anything 
 remains in the windpipe. If the substance deposited 
 there is smooth, like a cherry stone, it may remain 
 so long before it begins to produce trouble, that the 
 parents of the child forget the circumstance of his 
 “eetting choked,” and the physician not having 
 skill to detect the cause, the patient lingers and dies. 
 If careful and scientific examinations of the body, 
 immediately after death, were more common than 
 they now are, there would still remain a chance of 
 detecting and exposing the evil. But it happens, 
 unfortunately, that there are in many parts of our 
 country strong prejudices against these dissections, 
 useful as every rational person will admit them 
 to be. 
 
 Now the objection to which I have alluded is 
 founded on the carelessness of childhood, and the 
 danger of such accidents. If a child is talking or 
 laughing—and children, we all know, are very apt 
 
THE CHERRY. 249 
 
 to talk and laugh while they are swallowing cher- 
 ries and cherry stones—nothing is more easy than 
 for these smooth little bodies to slip down the wind- 
 pipe; and nothing is more possible than that they 
 may remain there undiscovered or unsuspected till 
 death. Or even if discovered, a surgical operation 
 is sufficiently severe, one would think, to deter us 
 from exposing ourselves so foolishly or socaety a to 
 its necessity. 
 
 Connected with the subject of cherries, is one 
 popular error which | wish to expose. | It is often 
 ‘said—or rather used to be before the days of 
 “temperance ’”’—that if a person has eaten too 
 much fruit, a little brandy, or some other sort of 
 spirit, would correct the evil. ‘This indulgence was 
 particularly extended to cherries. ‘The remark was 
 probably founded in truth. ‘The spirit, by rousing 
 the stomach, for once, to violent action, enables it. 
 to carry off a load which it could not otherwise 
 have disposed of, whether that load were cherries 
 or something else. Just as the spur or the whip 
 may prove the means of enabling a horse to go 
 beyond his natural strength, for once, and carry a 
 load quite too heavy for him; with this difference, 
 however, in favor of the spurred horse, that he ts 
 far less injured than the spurred stomach, and far 
 less likely to refuse to carry even a rational load 
 the next time a demand is made. 
 
250 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 - Nor does this disclose, without saying a little 
 more, the whole evil. The indulgence of using 
 spirits to remove one excess, emboldens us to repeat 
 an excess which we find so easily removed, and by 
 such a pleasant remedy ; and not only to use spirits 
 after eating cherries, but after eating other kinds of 
 fruits; and not only to use sperits, but wine and 
 cider. Indeed, though I am almost ashamed to say 
 it, such has been the extent of this error, that we 
 find some dietetic writers telling us that such is the 
 tendency of many fruits to produce fermentation, 
 flatulence, or diarrhcea, that a glass of old wine is 
 very proper to promote ther digestion. What 
 evils must not society endure, so long as it is infested 
 with such teachers of morality as these ? 
 
 A meal of cherries, whether it be breakfast or 
 dinner, should always be moderate in quantity, and 
 slowly swallowed ; and as I have before insisted, 
 the stones should be rejected, as much as if they 
 were poisonous. All cooking of cherries is inad- 
 missible, and for many and various reasons. ‘The 
 cherry puddings and pies of our country, are much 
 prized by many ; but they are a most stupid con- 
 cern, to say nothing of their tendency on health, and 
 the changes the cherries undergo, and the new com- 
 bination produced in their cookery. Dried cher- 
 ries are by no means proper to be eaten, though 
 some appear to be fond of them. 
 
THE CHERRY. 951 
 
 It is utterly inconceivable how a rational appe- 
 tite, formed to relish a pure, plain, unperverted pud- 
 ding, and the plain, but rich, juicy, delicious fruits 
 which the Creator has bestowed in such profusion, 
 can ever be willing, even on the score of gustatory 
 pleasure, to eat cooked fruits, especially the smaller 
 fruits like cherries! I say it is utterly incon- 
 ceivable how this happens; but I mean, rather, 
 that it would be, were we not in a world where 
 people learn to eat with a high relish almost 
 anything which they please, not excepting whole 
 animals. . : 
 
 The varieties of the cherry, even of the com- 
 mon kind, are exceedingly numerous ; and their 
 excellence is equally various. ‘The varieties of the 
 choke cherry are almost as numerous as those of 
 the more common sort. ‘They are all more or less 
 astringent ; too much so, perhaps, for frequent use. 
 Some of them, however, are very rich and nutri- 
 tious ; though they are all rather hard of digestion, 
 and if taken at all, should be taken in the morning, 
 in the form of a light breakfast, and when we are 
 in the most perfect health. The small black cherry, 
 or fruit of the wild cherry tree, though often eaten, 
 is wholly inadmissible. I do not know that this 
 fruit contains, as the tree does on which it grows, 
 the prussic acid ; but it contains other properties 
 little less injurious. 
 
252 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 On the subject of fruits a little more explana- 
 tion may be necessary. I have represented the 
 gooseberry and cherry, for example, to be greatly 
 inferior to the raspberry and the strawberry, in 
 point of real excellence ; and yet, if neither of the 
 latter could be had by reasonable effort, during the 
 hot season, I would use, with due caution, an occa- 
 sional meal of one of the former. And if circum- 
 stances prevented my getting any other fruit, I 
 would eat more freely even of currants and plums 
 than would be admissible in other circumstances. 
 
 Again, if I could not get the better fruits in a 
 more perfect state—say, if I was compelled to get 
 it half ripe or half decayed from the public mar- 
 kets—I would use that which was somewhat infe- 
 rior, which could be procured from my own or some 
 neighboring garden. 
 
 The same remark will apply to many other 
 things and circumstances. ‘Thus, though I would 
 not prefer a dinner to a breakfast of fruit, yet if 1 
 were so situated that I must eat the fruit at dinner 
 or go without it, I would prefer the former ; at 
 least occasionally—for one meal a day of ripe fruit 
 of some sort during the hot season, seems to me 
 next to indispensable. 
 
CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 : 
 
 THE PLUM. 
 
 The plum indigestible. It should be eaten alone. The 
 prune. 
 
 Tue plum, though highly delicious to most 
 persons, especially in the case of the more perfect 
 varieties, as the garden plum, meadow plum, &c., 
 is more doubtful as to its wholesomeness than any 
 of the fruits I have yet mentioned. Strong sto- 
 machs may indeed digest it; but it appears to me 
 that the strength of this organ would be more 
 profitably expended on something else than on so 
 doubtful an article, unless, indeed, no other fruit 
 can be obtained. But to most persons, in society, 
 enfeebled as their stomachs are, by abuses, plums 
 are very apt to occasion too much relaxation and 
 writation of the stomach and bowels ; and some- 
 times even colics. Whenever the plum is eaten, 
 it should be eaten alone, unconjoined with any 
 other aliment whatever. This advice, respecting 
 the plum, is given even by the old English writers. 
 
254 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 This may be the appropriate place for saying 
 something of the prune, which is neither more nor 
 less than a dried plum. ‘The prune is usually 
 imported ; but all our plums would make prunes. 
 This is by no means one of the worst articles of 
 food, especially when boiled, or rather stewed. In 
 this condition, it is indeed often ordered for the 
 sick ; but it is equally good for those who are well. 
 I do not mean by this, that a stewed prune is as 
 good as a raw apple or an uncooked strawberry ; 
 but only that when no better fruit can be had, it is 
 tolerable ; and it is probably the best of all the 
 dried fruits which can be obtained, unless it is the 
 
 fig. 
 
CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 THE MELON. 
 
 The muskmelon. Hot bed cultivation. The watermelon. 
 How sometimes raised. 
 
 «Tue farmaceous fruits,” says Dr. Paris, “ are 
 universally unwholesome.” Of what he calls the 
 farinaceous fruits, melons are the most important. 
 Now I regard this condemnation of the melon 
 tribe as quite too sweeping. 
 
 The muskmelon and the watermelon are both 
 In extensive use among us, and when perfectly 
 ripe, and raised in a natural manner, without the 
 use of strong fresh manures, and without any forc- 
 ing or hot bed process, are by no means as injuri- 
 ous as some writers have represented them to be. 
 Indeed, I regard them both, in the absence of 
 the summer fruits, which are preferable, as rather 
 useful. An occasional meal of either is niuch 
 better than no fruit at all. 
 
 “'The watermelon,’ says the Encyclopedia — 
 Americana, “serves the Egyptian for meat and 
 drink ;” that is, doubtless, during a small part of 
 
256 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 the year—for I do not think it sufficiently solid or 
 nutritious to form the sole food of man for any 
 great length of time, even in warm climates. Were 
 either to be used exclusively as a daily article 
 of food, the muskmelon would be preferable. 
 
 Some persons have a kind of antipathy to the 
 smell and taste of this fruit; of which class of 
 individuals the author was one. ‘This antipathy, 
 however, can be easily overcome. 
 
 Having alluded to the manner of raising melons, 
 it is proper, perhaps, that I should just observe, 
 that watermelons—and for aught I know, musk- 
 melons too—in the immediate neighborhood of 
 cities, are often raised by the aid of the most offensive 
 manures of which the imagmation can well conceive. 
 Under this culture they thrive. most luxuriantly. 
 And the same or nearly the same thing, may be 
 said of the method of raising many of the vegeta- 
 bles about cities. It may be said, at least, that 
 they are raised by means of strong fresh manures, 
 whose effects on vegetables, according to the ob- 
 servation of Dr. Whitlaw and others, are very 
 unfavorable. In some instances they render them 
 actually poisonous. But on this point, in a work 
 like the present, it will hardly be expected that I 
 should enlarge. Enough, if I succeed in dropping 
 one of those words or hints, which “ to the wise,” 
 
 are said to be “ sufficient.” : 
 
CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 THE CUCUMBER. 
 
 Evils of the cucumber overrated. Ripe cucumbers. Not 
 very nutritious. ' 
 
 Tue cucumber, I suppose, will hardly be re- 
 garded as.a fruit, even if the melon should be ; but 
 it was found more convenient to class it thus. 
 Both appear to be of the same family, though the 
 cucumber is the least wholesome. I do not find, 
 however, anything in its nature, when ripe, which 
 should render it deserving of that general condem- 
 nation which it has received. It is true, I never 
 eat it; but it is because I have hitherto been able 
 to get fruits which I consider far preferable ; be- 
 cause I have no moral right to use the worse © 
 article when I can as well have the better ; and 
 because I have usually had it presented, prepared 
 in a manner totally unfit for the human stomach. 
 Custom seems to demand, now-a-days, that cucum- 
 bers should be eaten not only uncooked, but also 
 unripe—very unripe. If eaten green, it seems to 
 
 me it should be cooked—perhaps in milk, like 
 17 
 
* 958 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 the gourd, which is another of the melon family. 
 If not cooked, it should at least be ripe, like the 
 watermelon and the muskmelon. 
 
 Some may smile at the idea of ripe cucumbers, 
 and say that the very thought of them, like the 
 smell, is offensive. But I am not speaking of the 
 decayed or putrid cucumber ; that is quite another 
 thing. The truly ripe cucumber is quite as agree- 
 able to the taste and smell of any individual, as 
 the muskmelon ; and to those whose taste has not 
 been strangely perverted, much more so. It was 
 probabiy eaten only when ripe, at first; but a fas- 
 tidious taste, by requirmg it earlier and earlier, has 
 at length brought about the state of things we see. 
 
 But I must not omit to say, that even the ripe 
 cucumber is not very nutritious. It is rather a 
 medicine than an article of food; being cooling, 
 bland, and gently laxative. ‘To produce its good 
 effects—so far as it has any—it should be eaten in 
 great moderation, and without that pepper, oil, 
 salt and vinegar, which are usually applied to it 
 while green, and which, if it be eaten in this state, 
 are always required. But whatever other uses are 
 made of the cucumber, I entreat the reader not to 
 use it in the form of pickles. These, of almost all 
 the forms of vegetable substances, seem to me 
 worst adapted to the human stomach ; and I can- 
 not but hope will be shunned by every reader. 
 
CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 THE FIG AND RAISIN. 
 
 The fig extensively used for food. Fresh figs. Dried figs. 
 Figs and bread. The raisin. 
 
 Tue fig has, in all ages, formed a very con- 
 siderable article of diet in many parts of the East ; 
 especially in the south of Europe, where it is said 
 to be brought upon the table, either in its fresh or 
 dried state, for five months of the year. In these 
 circumstances it is a very tolerable article of diet— 
 soft, sweet, fragrant, and of a purplish color. But 
 it seems to me, it would be much better if it were 
 suffered to ripen in the natural way, instead of 
 having the ripening process artificially hastened. 
 
 Contrary to the rule which generally obtains in 
 relation to dried fruit, the dried fig is said to be 
 more easy of digestion than the fresh; though 
 perhaps less nutritious. Still, it is highly nutri- 
 tious, even in its dried state. Dried figs and 
 barley bread are said by travellers, to form the 
 common food of the lower classes of inhabitants in 
 Greece and the Archipelago. 
 
260 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 One objection to the use of the fig as an article 
 of food among us, is the numerous animalcule 
 which infest it. Were it not for this and the 
 expense, I should be half disposed to recommend 
 the fig with bread, as an occasional breakfast, espe- 
 cially for children. 
 
 Tur Raisin.—There are several kinds of 
 raisins. Some of them contain few if any seeds, 
 and hence are probably rather more digestible than 
 others. Besides, the quantity of sugar they con- 
 tain disposes them to a rapid fermentation in the 
 stomach. But in addition to this is another evil, 
 greater than all. . I allude to their tough, indigesti- 
 ble skins. | 
 
 I do not deny, that when eaten alone, occasion- 
 ally, or still more rarely with bread, they form a 
 breakfast far better than thousands of breakfasts 
 which might be mentioned. And yet, such break- 
 fasts are not by any means among the best which 
 could be named. 
 
 In pies, puddings, &c., raisins are not to be 
 tolerated, and I must protest against their frequent 
 use in this way, as not merely a waste of time and 
 property, but as a means of destroying more health, 
 in fashionable life, than all the physicians, in high 
 
 life, ever restored. . “ 
 
CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 NUTS. 
 
 The chesnut much used by the ancients. Boiled chesnuts 
 How used, now, in Europe. Used for bread. 
 
 I wave classed the various nuts together, both 
 because I have very little to say about them, and 
 because what I have to say. will, in general, be 
 equally applicable to all. ‘The more important of 
 this class of substances are chesnuts, walnuts, 
 hazelnuts, butternuts, peanuts and almonds. 
 
 We are told by the most ancient histories, of 
 men who in the first ages of the world lived almost 
 entirely on acorns and chesnuts, and yet attained 
 to a very advanced age. All this may, however, 
 be fabulous. But of one thmg we are certain, 
 which is, that the chesnut, in its raw state, is highly 
 nutritious to swine and many other quadrupeds. 
 To say that it would be equally so to man, even 
 were he early trained to its use, would be to affirm 
 what I believe we could not very well prove. 
 
 Boiled chesnuts, however, form a highly m 
 tious article of diet, and are, on the whole, easy 
 
 
 
262 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 of digestion. I think that the worst objection to 
 their use, in this way, is, that they are rather too 
 nutritious, like peas and beans. As an occasional 
 dinner, however, they are not very objectionable. 
 Those whose stomachs are as yet unaccustomed 
 to simples, might find them rather flatulent. But to 
 those whose digestive powers have any claim to 
 be considered as healthy, they form a pleasant 
 and excellent food, and sit well on the stomach. 
 
 In the south of Europe the chesnut is much 
 used for bread, puddings, &c.; and is regarded as 
 pretty wholesome. Of late it has been exported, 
 considerably, to this country, and is gradually 
 coming into use. Our own chesnut, however, is 
 finer grained and sweeter. But both are good, 
 and deserving of more attention ne they have 
 hitherto received. 
 
 Those who regard a dish of boiled chesnuts as 
 forming a vulgar dinner, can easily form them into 
 pies, puddings, bread, cakes, &c. ‘They may be 
 boiled and mashed; or, if it should be preferred, 
 they can be ground into a sort of flour before they 
 are cooked. ‘The flour and meal may also be 
 mixed with various other kinds of flour or meal, to 
 form such compounds as the. fancy or the judg- 
 ment may direct. 
 
 Though all nuts are somewhat difficult of diges 
 tion on account of the oil they contain, yet the 
 
NUTS. 263 
 
 butternut and walnut are most so. They may all, 
 however, be occasionally eaten, when the stomach 
 is strong, at the breakfast hour; but never after a 
 full meal of something else. 
 
 And here I am bound to exculpate the whole 
 tribe of fruits and nuts from at least one half of the 
 blame usually thrown upon them. ‘They are said 
 to be flatulent, indigestible, &c. But does any 
 one wonder that they should be so, when we con- 
 sider the manner in which they are used? Are 
 they not commonly eaten at the close of a full. 
 meal of something else, or in the evening just 
 before going to bed? In the former case, the 
 stomach, though strong, is overtasked by an unrea- 
 sonable load ;' in the latter, a task is imposed, 
 which, though light, 1s too much for the circum- 
 stances—it being always unsafe to eat anything, 
 especially substances hard of digestion, just as we 
 are going to bed. 
 
 And hence it is, that notwithstanding all that is 
 said about flatulence and difficulty of digestion, he 
 who lives temperately and has a good—not a 
 craving or fastidious—appetite, may eat a moderate 
 meal of almost any kind of fruits or nuts that is not 
 poisonous, without flatulence or trouble. I can 
 certainly do this. And yet if I were to eat fruits 
 and nuts as other people do, I should soon experi- 
 ence all the ills of which they complain so loudly, 
 
264 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 and which have even found their way into the 
 pages of so many dietetic writers. 
 
 What they say, however, though it be enough 
 to frighten one, will do pretty well for those 
 whose stomachs are reduced to the pitiful neces- 
 sity of being watched and tended, like the in- 
 fant; and who eat fruits and nuts either on a 
 full stomach, or in circumstances almost equally 
 objectionable. But their array of cautions is 
 entirely useless, to him who is temperate in the 
 largest sense, and who, after making an occasional 
 breakfast of one of them, uncombined with any- 
 thing else, masticates it well, and goes about his 
 ordinary business to think no more of consequences 
 till the hour arrives for the next meal. 
 
 One important principle needs to be here re- 
 peated ; which is, that almost all things, and of 
 course almost all articles of food, may be said to 
 be good or bad principally by comparison. Com- 
 pared, for example, with hot bread and butter for 
 breakfast, to a pure stomach, (1 do not say a 
 puny, debilitated one,) a meal of nuts, particularly 
 of chesnuts, would be excellent. But compared 
 with plain bread of unbolted wheat meal, whether 
 leavened or unleavened, or with boiled corn, or 
 even with good mealy potatoes, all the nuts, unless 
 it is the chesnut, are, to say the least, unimportant ; 
 and I should be inclined to say injurious. 
 
CHAPTER XXXVII. 
 
 ANIMAL FOOD. 
 
 Where animal food is admissible. Should be used, if used 
 at all, principally as a condiment. What animals have 
 been eaten. Arrangement of the subject. 
 
 Tuts is the third principal division of human 
 aliments. I regret to be obliged to recognize ani- 
 mal food as, in any sense, a primary aliment ; 
 for I consider the resort to it as proper only in 
 the case of infants, diseased persons, and the people 
 of those regions or places where better food cannot 
 be obtained. It ought to be used only as a condi- 
 ment. 
 
 I hope to live to see the time when farinaceous 
 food will come to be so universally regarded as the 
 staff of life, that no family will any more think 
 of living without it, than did the family of Jacob 
 in Canaan. ‘To be out of bread, or grain to make 
 it of, at that day, was to suffer all the horrors of 
 famine ; notwithstanding the existence of flocks 
 and herds somewhat numerous. The flesh of the 
 latter was used, not as the principal dish on orh- 
 
266 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 nary occasions, but only as a condiment, or at feasts. 
 Such it is even now regarded in many eastern 
 nations. They would no more think of giving 
 animal food the conspicuous place we do, than 
 of living on salt or pepper. 3 
 
 Nearly every known animal in the world has, 
 by some nation or other, savage, semi-civilized or 
 civilized, been eaten; from the stately elephant 
 and horse, down to the snail and other insects still 
 smaller and more offensive to our usual notions 
 of propriety. 
 
 If I were about to enter largely upon the sub- 
 ject of animal food, I should arrange my articles in 
 three divisions :—1. Milk and Eggs. 2. Flesh. 
 3. Fish. But this division is hardly necessary to 
 my present purpose. A few short sections to aid 
 those who are obliged to have recourse to this 
 ‘sort of food, either for themselves or for others, is 
 all that can be admitted. eats 
 
 I shall sav something of milk, butter, cheese, 
 
 eggs, flesh—wild and tame—and fish. ‘The chap- 
 
 ter may be passed over by those who have risen 
 above the necessity of studying the subject—of 
 whom I would fam hope there are many. Ido 
 not think one in a hundred of our population, 
 except the diseased and veriest infants, ought to 
 have anything more to do with animal food, if 
 trained properly, than with alcohol. 
 
CHAPTER XXXVIII. 
 
 MILK. 
 
 What the circumstances are in which milk is admissible. 
 Milk for infants. Milk for diseased persons. Use of it 
 by the Arabs. Milk a cheap feod. Healthy milk. Milk 
 poured on bread. Milk toast. | 
 
 Some may say that milk is not animal food, 
 strictly speaking, but only an animal secretion. 
 On this principle most of the fat of animals would 
 not be animal food; for what is that but a secre- 
 tion ? | 
 
 It is a favorite doctrine with me, and I believe 
 a true one, that we should always use those kinds 
 of food which are best for us, provided, at least, 
 they can be obtained without interfering with the 
 rights of others. But when, under these circum- 
 stances, we content ourselves with that which is 
 only second best, we commit an error. So it is 
 with most adults who, in our own country, use milk 
 as food. 
 
 But when a person cannot use food which is 
 petter for health and happiness than milk, he 
 
268 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 certainly ought to use it. It is on this principle 
 that milk is assigned to the infant. ‘The Author 
 of his nature, seeing it best to introduce him to the 
 present state of existence in his known weakness 
 and helplessness, has adapted him, before hand, to 
 the very best diet which in the nature of things 
 could be furnished for him. It is most readily 
 assimilated ; and though it is somewhat heating in 
 its nature, it is the best medium through which to 
 lead him off, as it were, from a food highly animal- 
 ized, to one which is best adapted, in general, to 
 the development and progress: of his whole nature. 
 
 Accordingly, after the lapse of a few months, 
 his teeth begin to appear, indicating the proper 
 period at which new forms of food should be 
 presented. At this period, the common sense of 
 
 almost all rational physicians in the world assigns 
 him farinaceous food, in small quantity; and the 
 quantity is to be gradually increased, as he grows 
 older, till he is weaned. Even for a time after- 
 wards, common sense, with many, retains its sway, 
 and they accordingly require that for a few years 
 longer the farinaceous diet should be continued. 
 It is true, some of them say, a change should be 
 made back again, after the lapse of some time, to 
 a mixed diet of animal and vegetable food ; but 
 none of them tell us exactly when they should 
 “turn the corner,’ They would gradually lead 
 
MILK. 269 
 
 them off from the use of animal food to vegetable, 
 and then, when their habits have been nearly 
 formed to its use, and they are doing very finely, 
 they would make them flesh-eaters again !—I think 
 it behoves them to tell us at what age the latter 
 change should be made. 
 
 I would not be in such great haste, as many 
 are, to wean a child; nor when weaned, would I 
 give up, at once, the use of milk. I would leave 
 off gradually, only ; continuing for some months, 
 perhaps for several years, a greater or less quan- 
 tity of cow’s milk, properly diluted, for at least 
 one meal a day—say for breakfast, when the 
 stomach is empty. When I gave the milk, how- 
 ever, it should form the principal part of the meal, 
 for the time; and if a little bread was used in 
 connection with it, 1 would see that instead of 
 being soaked in the milk to soften it, the child 
 should properly masticate it. 
 
 But when a child is once fairly weaned from 
 milk, and is perfectly healthy, I would not return 
 again to the use of it, so long as good farinaceous 
 food could conveniently be had, and so long as he 
 continued healthy. In a scrofulous or consumptive 
 habit, however, should this arise, and in a few other 
 cases of disease, or tendency to disease, 1 would, 
 with the advice of the physician, use milk. Many 
 a consumptive person has had his life and useful- 
 
270 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 ness prolonged many, years, sometimes twenty or 
 thirty, by a milk diet.* 
 
 There are other cases in which I think a milk 
 diet is highly proper. . Without the milk of his 
 camel, how could the Arab traverse the desert of 
 Sahara for more than a century? Without it, 
 what would many travellers do who find nothing 
 else to eat that is not much worse? 
 
 ‘¢ But what,” it will be asked, ‘is the real ob- 
 jection to milk? 
 
 First, it is too stimulating. Secondly, it is a liquid ; 
 and liquids do not secure, to those who have teeth, 
 a sufficient amount of mastication and insalivation ; 
 and they impose too heavy a task upon the stomach 
 and the whole of the digestive apparatus. ‘Thirdly, 
 it is almost always eaten wrong, when eaten. Milk, 
 I repeat it, should be either eaten alone, or with 
 something which is well masticated. But the usual 
 way is to put bread into it, or pudding, or hom- 
 mony, or potatoes, or baked apples, or other fruits, 
 so that here a double mischief is done. Not only 
 is the milk swallowed without due mastication and 
 
 * Such, at least, is the. general testimony. But I have 
 often suspected the cure in these cases was less owing to 
 the milk itself, than to the simplicity of the individual’s 
 habits. He confines himself, in these cases, to a single dish, 
 instead of an endless variety. Now how do we know that if 
 he were to confine himself as cheerfully, to bread, the conse- 
 quences would not be equally favorable? 
 
MILK. Q71 
 
 insalivation, but the solid substances too, through 
 its intervention, go down in the same way. 
 
 Some parents, especially in cities, seem to grudge 
 their children the use of milk, when they really 
 suppose they need it. ‘They say it is too costly. 
 I am surprised at this mistake—so very common. 
 No person ought to think of the expense of milk 
 once a day, even for a whole household, did they 
 need it. It is one of the cheaper articles. A 
 child of three years old should not use over a pint 
 and a half a day, and ten ounces of bread, if he ate 
 nothing else. ‘This is a very large allowance in- 
 deed. And yet, in the dearest cities, this could 
 not ordinarily cost over eight cents. ‘This is fifty- 
 six cents only a week, and it involves but little house 
 work. But on this subject every one can make 
 his own estimates. 
 
 Milk, if eaten at all, should be new; though it 
 need not be swallowed the moment it is obtained 
 from the cow. The cow should be healthy. She 
 should not be confined, or fed on slops, or bad hay 
 or pasture, or impure water. She should have 
 pure air and water, and enough of exercise, and 
 good grass or hay. All the cows of Paris have 
 tubercles in their lungs, (the beginning of consump- 
 tion,) so the most eminent European medical wri- 
 ters say ; and there is no doubt that many of the 
 cows about our own cities and towns are in the 
 
272 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 same sad predicament. If so, their milk should 
 not be eaten; it will be injurious.* 1 do not like 
 boiling milk, either for porridge, or for any other pur- 
 pose; but I prefer boiling it to preserve it, to the 
 practice of using it when sour. Nor do I at all 
 like the practice of eating skimmed milk, as some 
 families do. It is better with the cream in it. 
 
 Cream poured on toasted bread, is quite a favor- 
 ite dish with many. With dyspeptics, cream 
 sometimes sits better on the stomach than milk. 
 A few sweeten their milk or cream for the purposes 
 I have been mentioning, but this I cannot recom- 
 mend. If milk is used at all by healthy adults, I 
 would advise them to use it asa condiment. Thus, 
 1 would pour a little good milk on a slice of bread, 
 whether toasted or otherwise. Or I would pour it, 
 in small quantity, on wheat mush, hommony, hasty 
 pudding, and other puddings, johnny cake, beans, 
 rice, potatoes, &c. For beans and rice, it is the 
 best condiment that could possibly be used. How 
 much better to train a family of children to use a 
 little milk as a condiment, poured on their plates, 
 than to spoil their stomachs with molasses, sugar, 
 vinegar, pepper, butter, &c.! 
 
 * People have been poisoned in considerable numbers by 
 bad milk, and have,occasionally died. 
 
~ 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX. 
 
 BUTTER. 
 
 Butter on bread. “Made” dishes. Butter eating carried to 
 the highest excess. The real evils of eating butter. 
 
 A uirtie fresh butter, spread on stale bread, 
 and the latter well masticated, cannot be very 
 hurtful. It gives a relish to the bread, which is 
 favorable to its digestion. ‘This, however, is say- 
 ing but little in its favor; for he has not a perfect 
 appetite who cannot relish, keenly, the bread I 
 have described without the butter. But this is the 
 only instance in which I deem butter at all admis- 
 sible. On new bread, of every form, on toasted 
 bread, on puddings, rice, cakes, &c., or mixed 
 with food to shorten it, there can be no doubt of 
 its injurious tendency. 
 
 Even plain bread and butter, says Willich, 
 require strong digestive powers, and to hot tem- 
 pered and bilious persons, are pernicious. “I am 
 inclined to think,” he adds, “that it would be 
 beneficial to society, if the making of butter were 
 strictly prohibited, as well as the importation of 
 18 
 
Q74 “THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 salt butter into every civilized country. Meled 
 fat, or the drippings of baked and roasted meat, 
 are equally, if not more pernicious to the stomach 
 than even stale butter; but both ought to be used 
 only for greasing cart wheels; never for injuring 
 the human organs.” 
 
 One of the mischiefs attending the use of but- 
 ter is, the more we use it, the more we are 
 compelled to do so. ‘The delicate female who can 
 hardly swallow her bread without butter on it, little 
 thinks that every indulgence of the kind renders a 
 second indulgence still more. necessary ; and that 
 her stomach is, in this way, every hour growing 
 more and more fickle. I knew one lady who 
 carried her butter eating to such an excess, that 
 she could scarcely relish a substance ull it was 
 almost half butter or lard.. She has even been 
 known to fasten a lump of butter to the end of a 
 stick, and after holding it in the flame and turing 
 it till the surface was beginning to melt, dip it in 
 flour, then hold it in the flame again, then dip it in 
 the flour—and so on, alternately dipping it and 
 roasting it, till the whole consisted of a species 
 of fritter thoroughly impregnated with butter, when 
 she would immediately eat it. And yet she won- 
 dered why she had not better health, and how it 
 was that Providence saw fit to leave her to suffer 
 so much from dyspepsia ! 
 
 4 
 
CHAPTER XL... 
 
 CHEESE. 
 
 General properties of cheese. Good cheese. Bad cheese. 
 Cheese sometimes poisonous. Anatto, Arsenic. Grand 
 objection to cheese. New and old cheese compared. 
 
 Curese is generally considered as quite indi- 
 gestible, and therefore to be avoided by all those 
 who have not very strong stomachs. If, however, 
 a very little good cheese be taken in conjunction 
 with other proper substances, as bread or rice, as 
 a mere condiment, it can hardly be considered as 
 positively hurtful, to those who are very vigorous. 
 A stronger objection to its use is, that it is too con- 
 centrated a substance—or too pure a nutriment. 
 
 I have spoken, however, of good cheese only. 
 Bad cheese is among the worst of eatables. 
 Cheese is even sometimes poisonous. I have 
 known nearly a hundred persons poisoned at once 
 by eating from a certain cheese. Other instances 
 of the kind have occurred. I do not know that 
 the cause of this phenomenon has ever been 
 detected. Some have supposed it to be a vegeta- 
 
276 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 ble poison, as the lobelia or the hemlock, eaten by 
 the cows. | 
 
 The anatto or otto, so frequently used to give 
 color to cheese, is slightly poisonous ; but there is 
 another more striking method of poisoning cheese 
 which has been discovered very recently. Some 
 of our dairy women have fallen into the habit of 
 adding a-small quantity of arsenic, (ratsbane,) say 
 a piece half as large as a small pea, to each large 
 cheese, especially when made, in part, of old milk. 
 The object is, to give it freshness and tenderness ; 
 and the plan is said to succeed admirably. But it 
 produces, or may produce, great injury to the hu- 
 man constitution; and some persons have been 
 made immediately sick by it. 
 
 My greatest objection, after all, to the use ‘of 
 butter and cheese both, grows out of the con- 
 sideration, that their manufacture involves a great 
 amount of female labor, while no permanent or 
 substantial benefit is obtained. What can be more 
 valuable than female labor, applied to the physical 
 and moral management and early instruction of 
 children ?. 
 
 If cheese is to be eaten at all, let it be eaten 
 rather new than old; and let it be well masti- 
 cated. Do not eat grated cheese. Nor should it 
 be toasted. Tasting, though with many a favorite 
 process, only renders cheese more indigestible. 
 
CHAPTER XUI. 
 
 EGGS. 
 
 How eggs should be cooked. Rarely boiled. Poached 
 Artificial or ‘made’ dishes. Fresh eggs. How to pre- 
 serve eggs. Egg cider. Eggs and wine. 
 
 Eces are almost entirely pure nutriment, and 
 when not cooked too much, are easy of digestion. 
 When over-done, however, they are exceedingly 
 difficult of digestion, especially their white or albu- 
 minous part. ‘The last coagulates at about 160° 
 of Fahrenheit’s thermometer ; and when once co- 
 agulated, is no longer soluble by the gastric juice. 
 It is also said by some that when hard boiled, 
 they tend to constipation of the bowels ; whereas 
 when very slightly boiled, they are known to be 
 laxative. 
 
 This last is the state in which we ought to eat 
 eggs, if we eat them at all. Some suppose they are 
 best raw; but this is going to the other extreme. 
 They should be boiled just long enough to coagu- 
 late slightly the greater part of the white, while 
 the yolk still retains its fluidity. 
 
278 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 Next in point of wholesomeness to the boiled, is 
 the poached egg ; but even in this form it is apt 
 to be over-done. It should only be just sufficiently 
 hardened, says Dr. Kitchener, that the white part 
 may form a sort of transparent veil to the yolk. 
 
 The third common form of cooking the egg 
 among us is frying it. ‘This is decidedly the worst 
 form of all. It would be far more wholesome eaten 
 raw. The very thought of frying the egg, to 
 him even who knows but half the evils of frying 
 in general, is enough to make him shudder. ‘The 
 albumen is hardened, and the animal oil of the 
 yolk is rendered empyreumatic, or burnt. 
 
 All artificial preparations of eggs, as in pan- 
 cakes, &c., however agreeable they may be to a 
 perverted taste, are very apt to sit heavy on our 
 stomachs,'and corrupt our fluids. The yolk of 
 ecgs in any form has a tendency to putrefaction ; 
 and people whose stomachs are not uncommonly 
 strong ought not to eat any kind of food which is 
 very putrescible. ‘The eggs of our hens are the 
 most wholesome ; the eggs of ducks and. seer far 
 less so. 
 
 Great pains ought to te taken in regatd to the 
 freshness of eggs; and no eggs should be’ used, in 
 any form, which are not new. ‘The reason of 
 this prohibition will appear when it is remembered - 
 how readily they tend to putrefaction. “* We can- 
 
EGGS. 279 
 
 not be too circumspect,” says Willich, “in the use 
 of eggs, as to their freshness ; for examples are not 
 “wanting of persons, who, after having used cor- 
 rupted or only tainted eggs, were seized with 
 putrid fevers.” How much of mischief, then, may 
 be done, short of producing fever, by ignorant 
 house-keepers !*, And how important is it, since 
 they are so apt, notwithstanding their ignorance, 
 to seize on every new recipe, whether. philosophi- 
 cal or unphilosophical, and follow its directions— 
 perhaps to the destruction of the health or even 
 the life of a favorite child or of a husband—how 
 important it is, I say, that they should understand 
 these things! If they cooked everything simply, 
 the danger would be less; but they do not. 
 Complication is everywhere the order of the day. 
 I know a lady of comparatively simple habits, but 
 fond of cookery, who almost always keeps eggs by 
 her, and who seldom fails to put them mto one or 
 more kinds of food which she brings to her table 
 daily. And yet I cannot doubt that they are used 
 three fourths of the time when in a state of incipi- 
 
 by People are taken sick, for example. Well, the sickness 
 is supposed to be the will of Providence, or the hand of fate ; 
 when it is, more properly, their own will or ignorance, or 
 - that of some house-keeper. Sometimes it results from the 
 error of an ignorant physician or quack; and the seeds of 
 disease may have been sown months or years before we see 
 their appropriate fruits. 
 
280 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 ent putrefaction. But if plain people poison them- 
 selves, their families and their friends, how is it 
 with the more fashionable—those who’ have lost 
 sight of all simplicity ? 
 
 It is true, we have not yet gone to the extreme 
 of the French, who have more than three hundred 
 methods of cooking the ege, and nearly seven hun- 
 dred compounds into which the egg enters. . But 
 we have gone quite too far; and are likely to go 
 much farther, unless housewifery can be elevated 
 to a science, and conducted in a truly christian 
 spirit. 
 
 eggs are particularly obnoxious when mixed in 
 any way with butter or fat; and this constitutes 
 one objection to frying them. But it is not in fry- 
 ing alone that we have this hurtful mixture ; it is 
 everywhere. At fashionable tables we are con- 
 stantly taking mixtures of butter and eggs. Yet it 
 is not too much to say, that neither of these sub- 
 stances, even when taken’ alone—but especially 
 when combined—can be employed, (with the single 
 exception of boiling the egg and spreading the 
 butter on bread,) without mischief. Even Dr. 
 Dunglison says that eggs are never employed in 
 the formation of compound dishes, without render- 
 ing the aliment more difficult of digestion. He 
 goes further indeed, and affirms that “ every pre- 
 
EGGS. 281 
 
 paration of eggs, and every made dish, are more or 
 less rebellious.” 
 
 The preparations of food into which eggs enter 
 are, as I have said, almost innumerable. Some, 
 especially the delicate, will scarcely taste anything 
 that is not tinctured with eggs or butter. 
 
 There are various ways of preserving eggs from 
 rapid putrefaction, but they are all more or less 
 imperfect. ‘The best way is to use them fresh, or 
 not at all. I greatly prefer the latter. For the 
 benefit of those who will keep them, I may observe, 
 however, that they are satd to keep best in lime 
 water, fully saturated with the lime. 
 
 Ege cider is a favorite drink in some parts of 
 New England. It is made in various ways; but 
 the most common method is simply to break an egg 
 or two into a quart of heated cider, with a little 
 sugar or molasses, if the cider is too sour, and stir 
 it violently by means of a wooden instrument. pre- 
 pared for the purpose. I have seen a family of 
 children brought up to relish this as one of the 
 greatest treats. And yet it is, as it were, a parent 
 of abominations. Cider is bad enough for the 
 human stomach ; but cider, eggs and molasses form 
 a compound still worse, and one which deserves 
 not to be named, except to expose its folly, in any 
 decent circle or civilized society. 
 
282 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 Eegs swallowed in wine, without beating, is 
 another fashionable but improper mixture. It is 
 quite in vogue with the licentious, whether without 
 or within the pale of our civil or domestic institu- 
 tions. They suppose, often, that it has the power 
 of repairing suddenly the waste, and correcting the 
 abuses, of their frames. But it usually only lures 
 them on, by its fallacious appearances, to ‘greater: 
 and more criminal errors. 
 
CHAPTER XLII. 
 
 FLESH AND FISH. 
 
 General remarks. Simplicity in diet. Best kinds of flesh. 
 Wild animals. Fattened animals. Salted meat. Smoked 
 meat. Meat pies. Boiling. Broiling. Baking. Frying.— 
 Fish. Animal food sometimes poisonous. Shell fish. 
 
 I wave already given my opinion against the 
 use of animal food of all kinds, where better food 
 can be had; and have stated briefly, though not 
 fully, my reasons. ‘The moral evils, however— 
 the moral insensibility which its familiar use in- 
 volves—to which I but barely alluded, is, after all, 
 the most serious. But since people will continue 
 for some time to use animal food, in some of its 
 forms, it seems incumbent upon me to state, as 
 briefly as possible, what forms I deem least objec- 
 tionable. Milk I have attempted to show to 
 be the least injurious; and butter, cheese and. 
 egos, next. 
 
 On one point, however, I wish not to be mis- 
 understood. ‘There are other errors in regard to 
 food besides quality. It would be folly to pre- 
 
284 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 tend that a meal of bread, or even of bread and 
 milk, though not naturally the best food for an 
 adult, would not be better—far better—than a 
 thousand other dishes or combinations of dishes 
 which might be mentioned, even if made up from 
 simple farinaceous articles; and, as has been 
 already said, I am not sure that the benefits attri- 
 buted to changes from the common abuses of civil- 
 ized life to a steady diet of bread and milk, have 
 not been owing to the simplicity rather than to the 
 quality of the adopted dishes. But be this as it 
 may, there can be little doubt that a moderate 
 allowance of milk, for one of our daily meals, or 
 bread and butter, or bread and cheese, or bread 
 and eggs, or even of lean meat properly cooked, 
 would be far less hurtful in the end, setting moral 
 tendencies aside, than an extravagant quantity 
 of bread, or pudding, or even of potatoes, espe- 
 cially if hot; or a combination of a dozen sorts, 
 some only half masticated, some incompatible with 
 each other, and some too hot or too highly sea- 
 soned. 
 
 When, therefore, | express my dislike to flesh, 
 and speak of its inferiority to other forms of food, 
 I am not comparing extravagance or abuse in the 
 use of the one with moderation and reason in the 
 use of the other ; for this would involve unfairness, 
 and partiality, and untruth. 
 
FLESH AND FISH. __ 285 
 
 If I were to use flesh in a way which I thought 
 to be least injurious, 1 would select that of wild 
 animals, apparently in full health. and vigor, and 
 of youthful or middle age, and use it with no con- 
 diments or accompaniments, except, perhaps, a 
 small quantity of bread and salt, and with as little 
 cooking of any kind as possible. 1 would also 
 select the leanest parts. I would allow myself no 
 gravies or sauces. It should be eaten at breakfast 
 or dinner—never at supper—and breakfast would 
 be preferable. I would masticate it as slowly as 
 possible, and take little or no drink with my food. 
 I would use it but once a day, and even then in 
 moderate quantity. 
 
 Fattened animals are usually diseased animals ; 
 and I am unwilling to eat diseased food, if I can 
 help it. Some fattened animals have liver disease, 
 some fever, and some consumption—at least the 
 beginning of it. I have already mentioned the 
 case of cows in a state of confinement, as in our 
 cities; and I might relate a thousand facts, had I 
 room, to confirm the truth of my statements. 
 
 I would not eat meat which had been long pre- 
 served by salt. If I could not get it either fresh 
 or dried without smoke or any additions, I would 
 not use it. Smoked meat is bad, decidedly so; 
 and so is much salt, long applied—and salt petre. 
 Meat pies, of all sorts, are specially unfavorable to 
 
286 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 health; and so, in general, are meat soups and 
 broths. Like other liquids, the latter are difficult: 
 of digestion, as 1 have elsewhere shown. I speak 
 of the healthy, of course—for the sick, I am not 
 writing. | 
 
 The best forms of cooking meat are boiling, 
 broiling and roasting. Boiled meat. is, perhaps, 
 most easy of digestion, but not most nutritive— 
 something being probably lost in the process of boil-. 
 ing. Broiling preserves most of the juices, and being 
 performed in the open air, has many advantages. 
 The more rare the cooking, in either case, how- 
 ever, and the more free from butter, gravies, herbs, 
 stuffing, &c., the better. Let it be the simple 
 lean meat, with its natural juices ; and let it be 
 cooked just enough for us to relish it—but noth- 
 ing more. Trying is, of course, of all forms 
 of cooking meat, decidedly the worst. 
 
 If this is the simple truth respecting the use 
 of animal food, and if these are the laws which 
 limit its use, what is to become of our broths, our 
 soups, our hash, our pies—even those of Strasburg, 
 made of the diseased livers of geese—our bacon 
 and eggs, our sausages, our tripe, our turtles, our 
 “ bird’s nest,” our shell fish, our locusts, our snakes 
 and our snails? And what, too, is to become of 
 the multitude of fishes that inhabit the ocean and 
 the rivers? 
 
FLESH AND FISH. ~ 287 
 
 In regard to fish, 1 ought, perhaps, to nave ob- 
 served, that these are seldom diseased—and there- 
 fore, though they may be somewhat more heating and 
 less nutritious than other animals, they are, in some 
 respects, preferable. If used, the same principles 
 will apply to their use which have already been 
 laid down in relation to the flesh of land animals. 
 
 I might relate, here, many anecdotes, well at- 
 tested, of disease and death from bad animal food. 
 { might relate, from Dr. Chrisiston, stories of poison- 
 ing by veal, beef, bacon and sausages. I might 
 speak of two hundred and thirty-four cases of 
 disease, and one hundred and ten deaths, which, 
 between the years 1793 and. 1827, occurred in the 
 kingdom of Wurtemberg, from eating a kind of 
 sausages made of blood and liver. Cases might 
 be extracted from the Journal of Health for 1832, 
 showing the danger not only of meat, but of meat 
 pies. Some of the cases of poisoning from the 
 use of meat pies are truly frightful, and might 
 deter us, one would think, from’ venturing upon 
 their use.—I might also show, or endeavor to show, 
 that much of the disease of every day occurrence 
 among us, is produced or aggravated, or both, by 
 improper food, and especially by improper animal 
 food. But it seems to me unnecessary. 
 
 I will only add a few thoughts on shell fish. 
 How strange it is that people in a civilized com- 
 
2988 . THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 munity will perpetuate, by their example, such an 
 uncivilized—I was going to say disgusting—prac- 
 tice as that of eating, on all occasions when they 
 can get them, oysters, clams, lobsters, &c. We 
 are disgusted with the Arab and the South Sea 
 Islander for eating locusts and snails ; yet, in what 
 respect is eating whole oysters or clams a whit 
 ‘more decent? They are not, in fact, so good food 
 for mankind as the snail, nor so nutritious. I do 
 most sincerely hope that no young house-keeper | 
 who reads this work, and considers what a multi-_ 
 tude of better articles for human sustenance can 
 be- obtained from the wide range of farinaceous 
 vegetables and fruits, will ever lend her aid wil- 
 lingly im encouraging among her household this 
 outrage upon good sense and decency. 
 
 Oysters and clams are. scattered along our 
 coasts—usually in the neighborhood of some mis- 
 erably barren soil. Perhaps they are in part 
 designed to afford a temporary sustenance to the 
 miserable marmer who has been wrecked, where 
 there is nothing better for his support ; and to him 
 they may afford a tolerable nourishment till he can 
 get something better. Nearly the same remark 
 would be applicable, I think, to the use of the 
 tortoise, the frog, and several other animals, both 
 of the sea and of the land. | 
 
CHAPTER XLIII. 
 
 SUMMARY OF LEADING PRINCIPLES. 
 
 Simplicity in diet. Penalties of neglecting it. Importance 
 of mastication. Temperature of food should be low. Why 
 it should be so. Why purely nutritious substances should 
 not be used. Why solid food is preferable to liquid. 
 Drinks in general. Our meals should be regular. Proper 
 hours of eating. Number of meals a day. Rules for the 
 proper combination of several articles of food at a meal. 
 Regard to the season of the year, hour of the day, and 
 time of the week. Regard to our,employment. Regard 
 to age. 
 
 Tue preceding chapters, if carefully studied, 
 contain, at least by inference, nearly if not quite 
 all of what I deem the essential principles of 
 rational and scientific dietetics, together with the 
 more important rules of cookery. Still, it may 
 not be amiss to present some of the most impor- 
 tant of them in a more connected as well as a 
 more condensed form. 
 
 1. The first rule in regard to food is, to observe 
 simplicity. I have often heard people say, in 
 relation to diet, Well, after all, the great error is in 
 
 eating too much. And there is.much truth in the 
 19 
 
290 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 remark. If error in quality slays its thousands, error 
 in quantity slays its ten, thousands. And though 
 there may be a few who go to the extreme of eating: 
 too little—an. evil of at least equal magnitude with 
 the former, wherever it exists—yet cases of this 
 sort are believed to be very few indeed. The great 
 dietetic error, in this country at least, is excessive 
 alimentation.. _ | | sha 
 
 Multitudes, in this country of abundance, are 
 trained from their veriest infancy to eat three or 
 four times as much as they ought. Probably the 
 estimate of many intelligent writers, that we eat 
 upon an average, about twice as much as the gene- 
 ral condition of the system demands, is a safe and 
 correctone. People seem to go upon the principle 
 of eating as much as they can and not immediately 
 get sick. I say wnmediately; for as to the after 
 consequences, few seem to care or inquire. Where- 
 as the only safe rule for any individual in health is, 
 to eat as little as he possibly can, and yet sustain, 
 in the best condition, all the powers, functions and 
 faculties of bis system. Four or five pounds of 
 solid food, such as bread, puddings, potatoes, beans, 
 peas, &¢., are consumed in a day by hundreds of 
 hard-laboring individuals, besides a large amount of 
 apples, and cider, and beer, and some tea, coffee, 
 and fruits. Nay, we may find—without going to 
 Siberia—many young men of sixteen, eighteen of 
 
SUMMARY OF LEADING PRINCIPLES. 291 
 
 twenty years of age, among our hills and moun- 
 tains, who will consume their twelve or fifteen 
 pounds of food daily, including milk, apples, &c., 
 nor dream of danger till they chance, some five, ten 
 or fifteen years afterwards, to be sick; and even 
 then, neither their friends nor themselves—perhaps 
 not the doctor himself—ever dream that the dis- 
 ease was produced or aggravated, as one suai 
 cause, by excessive alimentation. 
 
 _ But although this is a common dietetic sin, it will 
 never, in my view, be cured or prevented, till peo- 
 ple come to habits of simplicity. It is in vain to 
 tell of the evils, dreadful as they are to soul and 
 body, from over-eating, so long as the custom pre- 
 vails of placing in their way, to tempt them, three 
 or four times a day, a dozen, or twenty, or thirty 
 high-seasoned and highly stimulating dishes. 
 
 I grant indeed that some will eat to excess, even 
 of a single article, as bread, or beans, or potatoes. 
 But who are they that do this? Are they those 
 who were brought up temperately and simply ? Sel- 
 dom, I believe, if ever. All the gormandizers on 
 a single dish plainly cooked, I have ever met with, 
 had been first trained to distend their stomachs enor- 
 mously ; and that, too, with stimulating food. When 
 such persons first break off, in regard to quantity, 
 especially if what they retain is of a mild, bland na- 
 ture, they feel as if they had taken almost nothing 
 / 
 
299 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 at all. But train children to proper qualities of 
 food, and they will not so often err as to quantity. I 
 have seen the experiment so effectually made, that 
 
 I speak on this point with certainty and decision. 
 
 Let our training be as favorable, however, as it 
 ‘may have been, and let the day of reformation be 
 deferred to the latest possible period of life, still 
 simplicity will be safest. If we are not safe at a 
 simple table, we shall not surely be so elsewhere. 
 Those who are on their guard will more readily per- 
 ceive what a large amount they consume, when 
 they eat wholly from one dish, than when they 
 make their meal from half a dozen or a dozen dif- 
 ferent ones. : 
 
 I do not undertake to say with precision what 
 quantity of food, as the maximum, should be used by 
 a healthy adult in a day ; for so various are consti- 
 tutions, conditions, employments, habits, &c., that 
 it would be impossible. If, however, we place it 
 as high as a pound and eight ounces of solid food— 
 and I presume no intelligent dietetic writer’ will 
 allow more—and if all above that quantity is in 
 excess andis slowly producing disease, what a mass 
 of error there isamong us! By solid food, however, 
 I here mean bread, rice, beans, peas, corn, &c.— 
 substances which contain from eighty to one hun- 
 dred per cent of pure nutriment. For if a pound 
 and eight ounces of these be the standard, than we 
 
SUMMARY OF LEADING PRINCIPLES. 293 
 
 may eat some three or four pounds, in twenty-four 
 hours, of apples, potatoes, turnips, beets, &c., and 
 ‘perhaps from three to four pounds of plainly cooked 
 lean meat. | 
 
 I would not set people to weighing their food 
 with too much exactness, lest I should promote the 
 very evils I wish to avoid and remove. Nor would 
 it be so necessary, if each one would make a few 
 experiments in weighing some of his more common 
 articles of diet, and having found out what a very 
 small quantity it takes to make a pound, learns to 
 confine himself chiefly to a single dish at the same 
 meal, and to measure out with his eye, the appro- 
 priate quantity—and withal never to violate the 
 monitions of conscience. 
 
 2. Another great principle in dietetics is, to 
 masticate our food well. ‘This is mdispensable, 
 not only to the highest gustatory enjoyment, but to 
 the most healthy digestion. Nay, it is indispensa- 
 ble to the well being of the teeth, the salivary 
 glands, the gastric secretion, and the whole system. 
 It is not enough insisted on by writers on this sub- 
 ject, and in the practical world almost wholly over- 
 looked. It could scarcely be more neglected if 
 the universal end and aim were to neglect it as 
 much as possible. But the penalty is as universal 
 as the disobedience ; and is experienced in a bad 
 state of the stomach, unhealthy sympathies of the 
 
294 . °-THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER:. 
 
 system with the stomach, especially an unhealthy 
 state of the skin and bowels, and foul and oe 
 decaying teeth. | : 
 
 3. Food should not be of a high temperature. 
 I will not say, indeed, that it should be as cold as 
 
 e; but it should be cool. ‘The system has the 
 power of generating heat for itself; and it not only 
 has this power, but its well bemg requires that our 
 heat should be thus generated. All unnecessary 
 heat, applied either externally or internally, dimin- 
 ishes the powers of the system to accomplish this 
 work, and is hence injurious. What would be the 
 effect of living constantly immersed in an atmos- 
 phere of the temperature of 90 or 100° of 
 Fahrenheit ? Who does not know that it weakens 
 us to remain long in a temperature above 60 or 
 70° ; and that in fact the lower the temperature, 
 provided we are quite comfortable under it, the 
 better for the lungs, the skin, and the whole sys- 
 tem. Now the same remark would be applicable 
 to the substances, whether liquid or fluid, received 
 into the stomach. Above 60 or 70°, they are, as 
 a general rule, more or less injurious ; and they 
 would probably be better at a much lower tem- 
 perature still; for the stomach is not so well able 
 to resist heat by evaporation as the skin, or even 
 as the lungs. What, then, must be the effect of 
 hot tea, hot coffee, hot soups, hot bread, &c. ? 
 
SUMMARY OF LEADING PRINCIPLES. 295 
 
 4. Food ought not'to be too nutritious. This 
 doctrine might be inferred from analogy. Domestic 
 animals, the horse for example, is known to suffér 
 soon on a diet too nutritious—hence the necessity 
 of mixing. hay, potatoes, or even straw, with his 
 grain. Nay, it is said, that when his health has 
 been failing from confinement to grain, a mixture 
 of thin shavings of wood has sometimes restored 
 him to sound health. 
 
 But what is true of the horse and other domestic 
 animals, is equally true of man. He will soon fall 
 off, and finally sicken, on purely nutritious sub- 
 stances. His diet should always contain a propor- 
 tion of innutritious matter. Thus wheat, rye, corn, 
 &c., are best unbolted ; and wheat meal, if bolted 
 and used to the exclusion of everything else, soon 
 produces injury. On the same principle, in part, 
 should we use not only the farinaceous articles, but 
 fruits and esculent roots; and the simpler they are 
 prepared the better. I would also, both on this 
 principle and those. which precede it, avoid butter 
 and oil of every description, cheese, eggs, and 
 pastry. ‘There.are many doubts in regard to the 
 long continued exclusive use of arrow-root, cas- 
 savi flour, tapioca, sago, &c., and even rice. If 
 these substances are used for an occasional meal, 
 they should, all of them, except rice, be alternated 
 with those of a contrary character. 
 
296 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 5. Solid food is generally preferable to that 
 which is liquid. If there be an exception, it is 
 in favor of milk. But this, in any considerable 
 quantity, except to children and to those older 
 persons who are predisposed to certain forms of 
 disease, is believed to be inferior in point of health- 
 fulness to that which is more solid. Soups and 
 porridge, however, are more decidedly objection- 
 able ; and so are gravies, jellies, toasts, &c. Pud- 
 dings, rice, hommony, mush, &c., though less 
 solid than bread, may be greatly improved by using 
 them when they are several days old. In these 
 circumstances they become much more solid than 
 when hot. 
 
 This rule would seem also to prohibit the use 
 of molasses, honey, sugar, &c. ‘These, however, 
 are not only liquid, but some of them are too con- 
 centrated. Eaten in any considerable quantity, 
 they are quite objectionable ; and most of them 
 ought to be avoided in every quantity, by those 
 who would enjoy the highest health. 
 
 The truth is, that our food should furnish a 
 large proportion of the liquids our systems need ; 
 and if it is of a proper quality and in proper 
 quantity, it will do so. Almost everything we eat 
 —fruit and roots especially—abounds with water ; 
 and even the driest bread is not destitute of it. 
 But what is not supplied in this way, should be made 
 
SUMMARY OF LEADING PRINCIPLES. 297 
 
 up in nature’s own way, by the saliva, the gastric 
 juice, the bile, and the pancreatic fluid. 
 
 But there is another important reason why solid 
 substances are better, as food, than liquids. ‘The 
 latter—so much of them at least as is merely 
 water—never undergo the process of digestion. 
 They are absorbed, after their arrival in the sto- 
 mach, instead of forming chyme, or chyle, or 
 blood. ‘The absorbent vessels take up the liquids 
 of the stomach, whether received in the food or in 
 the way of drink, until the mass is of a suitable 
 consistence ; after which, the work of digestion 
 proceeds. 
 
 ‘When we swallow bread and milk—I speak 
 now of adults and not of infanis—or broth, or 
 gruel, or chocolate, or coffee, or tea, the first thing 
 is for the absorbents of the stomach to take up the 
 water which they contain; and as they are nearly 
 all water, this requires a considerable time. When 
 the, process is over, what remains but a sediment, 
 not only unmasticated and without being subjected 
 to the action of the salivary glands, but consisting 
 of too highly concentrated nutriment? ‘The sedi- 
 ment of the broth, and the milk and sugar of the 
 tea and coffee, are by no means in so good a con- 
 dition to be digested properly, as if they were 
 mixed with more innutritious matter, and properly 
 masticated and insalivated. 
 
298 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 Hence may be seen some of the principal objec: 
 tions to coffee, tea, chocolate, &c., whether with 
 our meals or without them. It is true, that the 
 coffee and tea contain a poison, but it is in small 
 quantity. They are also usually taken hot; but 
 this is only one evil. ‘They also add to the variety 
 —almost always sufficiently large without them— 
 of a single meal, which is a matter worth consider- 
 ing. But when to all these evils, we add those 
 which were mentioned in a preceding paragraph, 
 surely the evidence is sufficiently strong against 
 them to lead to their rejection from the ratignal 
 tables of all rational house-keepers. 2p 
 
 Their use between meals involves anothar il 
 still. ‘The stomach needs time for rest, as well as 
 any other muscular organ. But if we swallow a 
 drink between meals when the stomach is just 
 ready for rest, which contams nutriment, it sets it 
 to work again. No liquid should therefore be 
 used between our meals but pure water ; any more 
 than im connection with them. 
 
 The remarks connected with our fifth sitio super- 
 sede the necessity of a separate chapter on drinks. 
 It at once sets them all aside, so far as our meals 
 and the best purposes of health are concerned. 
 Indeed, it seems to me a waste of time and 
 streneth, in this day of light and intelligence, to 
 dwell on that subject. A few thoughts respecting 
 
\ 
 
 SUMMARY OF LEADING PRINCIPLES. 299 
 
 them may naturally arise—indeed, seem almost 
 unavoidable—in a future chapter. 
 
 6. Our meals should be as regular as possible. 
 Children require food more frequently than adults. 
 But both children and adults should have fixed 
 hours for their meals as much as possible; and 
 should as seldom as possible depart from them. 
 If six, twelve and six are the hours for. an adult, L 
 would recommend that they be scrupulously ad- 
 hered to; and if occasional and unforeseen circum- 
 stances sometimes prevent our taking a meal at 
 the usual hours, it is better to omit taking anything 
 at all till the next meal. The omission of one 
 meal a day, living as we do in this land of abun- 
 dance, would be beneficial rather than injurious. ;++I 
 now mean one meal in three. This number I 
 suppose to be the maximum; and if sedentary 
 men prefer to use but two, I have no sort of objec- 
 tion. I ought to add, that if we omit a meal, it is 
 an error to make up for our abstinence by eating 
 the more freely at the next meal; for if there be 
 any variation, it should be to eat less. 
 
 7. | have said that all our meals should be as 
 simple as possible. If, however, there are depar- 
 tures from the strict letter of this rule, as I presume 
 there will be—if we use several articles of food at 
 the same meal, it is desirable that they should 
 resemble each other as much as possible. The 
 
300. THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER.. 
 
 contrary doctrine has ueatiga tice taught, ‘bat It is 
 believed to be untrue. If good mealy potatoes, 
 for example, are to be eaten with something else; 
 let it be with beans or peas cooked so as to be 
 dry and mealy, rather than with apples or pears, 
 or other juicy fruits, and rather than with meat. 
 There are one or two exceptions, however, to the 
 universality of this rule. If rice or pulse is to be 
 a principal article at dinner, I would prefer the 
 combination, with a substance so highly nutri- 
 tious, of something which does not contain much 
 nutriment, even if its general qualities are some- 
 what dissimilar ; as turnips, or potatoes, or apples. 
 Again, if one article is very soft, or is liquid, as 
 pudding or milk, and we are determined to com- 
 bine something or other with it, 1 would use a hard 
 substance, requiring much mastication, as wafers 
 made of unfermented meal, bread crusts, &c. 
 
 8. Some regard should be paid to the hour of 
 the day, as well as to the season of the year. 
 If we ever eat that which is comparatively difficult 
 of digestion, it should be when our bodies and 
 minds are most vigorous ; as at breakfast or dinner. 
 With most persons, perhaps, it should be in the 
 morning. ‘Thus if milk or gruel are taken, espe- 
 cially by adults, it should be either in the morning 
 or at noon; and | prefer, for most persons, the 
 morning. So also is the morning meal the best 
 
SUMMARY OF LEADING PRINCIPLES. 301 
 
 time for fruits, and for the more crude vegetables, 
 the nuts, &c. In any event, the supper should 
 be light, and should consist of substances easy 
 of digestion—as a little rice, a piece of coarse 
 wafer cake, or a little dry bread. 
 
 In the greatest heat eof summer, as well as in 
 the extremest cold of winter, particular pains should 
 be taken to have our food light and easy of diges- 
 tion. If we use anything less digestible, it should 
 be either in the autumn, or late in the spring, 
 when our labors are neither too violent, too ex- 
 hausting, nor too frequently remitted. We also 
 require less food towards the end of the week than 
 at the beginning, as well as that which is milder. 
 The old custom of substituting on Saturday a little 
 dried fish for a more full diet, which once prevailed 
 in many parts of New England, was therefore 
 quite philosophical, to say nothing of its favorable 
 tendency in regard to the duties of the Sabbath. 
 
 9. In deciding on the quality and. quantity of 
 our food in general, regard should be had. to 
 the nature of our employment. Both he who 
 uses too much and he who uses too little exercise 
 of body and mind, should eat less, and of that 
 which is milder in its nature. It is he who labors, 
 thinks, recreates himself, and sleeps in the most 
 just proportion, who can eat the most food, as well 
 as that which is strongest. By the strongest food, 
 
302: - THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 I here mean bread, rice, beans, peas, potatoes, 
 &c. It is these—and not animal food—that hold 
 out longest with the laborer, especially when he’ 
 has been trained to’ their use, or ‘has duly reformed 
 his habits, as the experience of hundreds of mil- 
 lions could testify. ‘The mass of the hard laborers— 
 the bone and smew of the world—have in all ages 
 to the present hour, been fed principally and often: 
 exclusively on this class of aliments. Females 
 require food which is less stimulating than males. 
 
 10. Regard should also be paid to age. Chil- 
 dren need food which is rather more active than that 
 of adults. On this point, however, I would speak 
 with diffidence. Nature seems to have provided 
 for the tender infant a food, which, in the process 
 of digestion, creates a good deal of heat; and yet 
 the more intelligent of physicians recommend that 
 it should be weaned to mild vegetable food. 1am 
 inclined to think this is the order of nature; and 
 that the physicians are right. Many of them, 
 however, recommend a mixture of animal with the 
 vegetable food, sometime afterward—but without 
 agreeing among themselves when the change shall 
 commence. It seems to me that either the child 
 should not be habituated to vegetable food after 
 weaning, or else, if the habit is once formed, it 
 should not be broken up. 
 
CHAPTER XLIV.— 
 COOKERY, AS IT IS. 
 
 Present object of Cookery. What its object should be. Ex- 
 ample of abuse. Error of eating hot food. Condiments 
 and accompaniments of food. Another example of abuse 
 in cookery.. Another, still. Objections to cool food an- 
 swered. A laughable sight. Gustatory pleasure perfectly 
 lawful. Who best secure it. A great but common mis- 
 take. Losses sustained by those who have fashionable 
 appetites. An anecdote of a country table. Usual views 
 and feelings of house-keepers about plain meals. ‘ Trim- 
 mings’”’ of our meals. Woman too much a slave to fashion. 
 Cooking not her main object. What she should glory in, 
 if she glories at all. 
 
 Tue two great purposes of all cookery should be 
 to improve the quality of food, and increase its 
 quantity. Sometimes both these ends can be se- 
 cured at the same time; but it too often happens, 
 as the fashions of cookery now are, that we accom- 
 plish neither. Indeed, as a more general rule, the 
 quality of substances submitted to the cook is de- 
 teriorated, and the quantity actually diminished. 
 
 In short, if it were the universal object of all 
 house-keepers, so far at least as food and cookery 
 
304 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 are concerned—and this, now-a-days, forms a very 
 considerable part of the business of the housewife, 
 since it occupies, in one way or another, most of 
 her time and thoughts—to defeat, at every step 
 they take, and every process in which they engage, 
 the real purposes for which food and cookery are 
 designed, it is scarcely possible for me to conceive 
 how they could better accomplish it, than by the 
 course which is current among us. 
 
 Take the article of flour, for example, as it is 
 received by the house-keeper ; that is, in as fine a 
 state as it can be—for if it were not so, it would — 
 scratch some delicate throat! If it is wheat flour, 
 instead of making good, sweet, plain cakes or 
 loaves of it, the house-keeper who has time enough 
 for the purpose, immediately converts it into hot 
 biscuits, or hot rolls, or waffles, or compound cakes, 
 or dishes of some sort or other. 
 
 I do not say that wheat is improved in passing 
 from a coarser state to that of superfine flour, 
 quite the contrary. But we will suppose, for the - 
 present, that this is a matter beyond the house- 
 keeper’s control. We will suppose her duty is to 
 increase the quantity or improve the quality of the. 
 article as it comes to her hands. | 
 
 Two hundred pounds of superfine wheat flour 
 will make about two hundred and seventy pounds 
 of wheat bread. The increase of weight is chiefly . 
 
s 
 
 COOKERY, AS IT IS. 305 
 
 by means of the water which is taken up, a part 
 of which, as some think, is rendered solid in the 
 loaf, as it is in the mass of lime to which it is 
 applied in slacking. Let this be as it may, there 
 is little doubt, in my own mind, that the changes 
 are in favor, greatly so, of nutrition. I believe 
 two hundred and seventy pounds of bread will go 
 very much farther in sustaining human life—nay, 
 and sustain it twice as well—than two hundred 
 pounds of flour from which it is made would do, 
 even if its taste, &c., were equally agreeable. 
 The nature of the changes—so favorable—which 
 take place in kneading and baking, I do not pre- 
 tend to understand ; but their existence is beyond 
 all dispute. | 
 
 I believe, moreover, that the change is nearly as 
 great and as favorable in the formation of bread, 
 plain puddings and unleavened cakes, from coarse 
 meal as from fine flour ; and from the meal of other 
 grains as well as wheat. ‘Thus far, then, cookery, 
 whether modern or ancient, might seem to be a 
 blessing and not a curse to mankind. 
 
 But when people will not eat these things, after 
 the cook has prepared them, unless they are hot 
 from the oven or stove, or full of pearlash, salera- 
 tus, or lime, or soaked in butter, or toasted and 
 -then buttered ; and whenever the cook herself con- 
 
 tributes all she can to promote such a belief, and 
 20 
 
306 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 thinks a_ plain raised loaf, or an unleavened cake, 
 of wheat, rye or Indian, or a plain pudding, is 
 unfit, after it is cooled to the temperature of the 
 surrounding atmosphere, for. anything but swine, 
 who does not begin to doubt the usefulness of the 
 art of cookery as it now is? 
 
 When, however, we go still farther, and to our 
 meal, and -yeast, and pearlash, and ‘artificial heat, 
 and butter, add molasses, or sugar, or eggs, or 
 wine, or spices, or fruits—or all of these and many 
 more things—and when it comes to pass that fashion 
 will not admit of a plain rice cake, or the plainest 
 dish of any sort, without its being tinctured with 
 flour, butter and eggs, a most unnatural trio, what 
 are we to say? Does female labor, thus expended, 
 tend to increase the quantity and cal savy the 
 quality of our nutriment ? 
 
 Again, take milk. Now if the cook or the 
 dairy woman can either improve its quality or 
 increase its quantity by her labors on it, I have not 
 a word to say. But is she doing this when she 
 spends her days and weeks, and I might say 
 months, in changing it into butter and cheese— 
 which, to say the least, are less wholesome than 
 the milk is—and in preparing which, instead of 
 gaining in nutriment, we actually lose? 
 
 Let me not be told of the difficulty of preserv- 
 ing milk, especially in warm weather, without 
 
COOKERY, AS IT Is. 307 
 
 changing it into butter or cheese ; or of the pleas- 
 ant variety which these afford in our bills of fare. 
 We are not obliged to keep so many cows ; since, 
 on my principles, the more we keep the more evil 
 is produced by it. And as to the variety of food, 
 we have variety enough of simple things, (as I 
 trust has been already seen in the chapters on” 
 food,) without forming doubtful compounds. 
 
 Once more. ‘To boil, steam, roast or bake a 
 potatoe, is a useful process. If it does not increase 
 the quantity of the nutriment, it certainly improves 
 its quality. But how few house-keepers stop here ! 
 Salt must certainly be added, and probably butter. 
 Nay, this is but common-place ; and does not bring 
 into view the skill of the cook at all. By no means. 
 A simple boiled potatoe is surely unfit to be eaten ; 
 and to eat a cold potatoe—one I mean which is not 
 smoking—would be horrid. How heavy it would 
 lie on the stomach! And does not this prove it to 
 be unwholesome? Yes, just as much as the fact 
 that simple cool water is at first too heavy for the 
 stomachs of those who have been accustomed 
 twenty, thirty, or fifty years to hot tea or coffee, or 
 to cider, beer, or spirits, proves that cool water 
 is unwholesome. And when house-keepers can 
 prove cold potatoes to be, in their nature, un- 
 wholesome, I will be ready to prove that cold water 
 iS SO. 
 
308 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 But who could eat things which are not smok- 
 ing? say some. I have even heard sensible peo- 
 ple say they preferred going without thei dinner, 
 to eating it cold, especially the vegetables. Now 
 there is not one of the latter—the potatoe itself not 
 excepted—which to an unperverted taste would not 
 be preferred when cold. Remember, I say once 
 more, I do not mean as cold as ice; that would be 
 the other extreme ;—but I mean the temperature of 
 the surrounding atmosphere. 
 
 Is it asked again, what evidence there is that 
 vegetables could ever be relished when cold? f 
 answer by asking what evidence there is that they 
 would not be? Besides, the farmer in the interior 
 of New England often makes his supper chiefly of 
 cold potatoes and turnips; and he eats heartily, and 
 enjoys his meal, too. Is here no evidence? 
 
 But we cannot eat so freely when food is cold as 
 when it is hot, it will be said. I know this, very 
 well. People cannot eat so much of a thing which 
 is cool, as of that which is smoking. ‘They cannot 
 eat so much bread, so much meat, so much pud- 
 ding, so many potatoes, so many cakes! ‘They . 
 must eat a pound of hot bread, a pound of pud- 
 ding, a pound of johnny cake or buckwheat cakes, 
 or two or three pounds of potatoes or hot baked 
 apples, when half the quantity, or at most two 
 thirds, if cool, would satisfy their appetites (at least: 
 
COOKERY, AS IT IS. 309 
 
 if unperverted) far better, and be a thousand times 
 better for their health, to say nothing, for the pres- 
 ent, of other advantages which would result from a 
 little self-denial and retrenchment. 
 
 It is enough to make one smile, to hear people 
 say they are fond of bread, or potatoes, or rice, or 
 boiled puddings, or Indian or buckwheat cakes, 
 and yet if presented by the house-keeper with either 
 of these, twelve hours after it is cooked, and with- 
 out some accompaniment or other, to see them 
 stare. Eat such fare as this? they seem to say. 
 And yet they talk about being fond of the very 
 things which are set before them ! 
 
 But is not the taste to be gratified at all? I shall 
 probably be asked. Certainly it is. I go for the 
 greatest degree of palate gratification. But who 
 has it? Is it he who cannot eat his meal—who 
 finds himself thrown out of his element, and misera- 
 ble—because one of a dozen of the articles on the 
 table happens not to be hot, or happens not to be 
 seasoned to his liking? Or is it he who finds all 
 things sweet ; who can make his meal and enjoy 
 it with the highest zest whether cold or hot, and 
 whether it consist of one article or a dozen, and 
 whether or not there is a single accompaniment to 
 his simple dishes—even common salt; who can- 
 not, in one word, be “ put out,” but who can eat 
 and relish all things ? 
 
310 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 oe 
 
 It is a great mistake to suppose that those who 
 eat simple things do not enjoy so much gustatory — 
 pleasure as those who eat compounds, and espe- 
 cially sweet and high-seasoned dishes. The reverse 
 were far more true. The long use of compound 
 and high-seasoned dishes, ruins our taste and our 
 smell. I have seen people of fifty years of age, to 
 whom almost everything was inodorous and insipid. 
 And there is a tendency to this state of things in 
 every eater of compound or high-seasoned dishes, 
 as well as in every one who indulges in a large 
 variety, even of simple things, at the same meal. 
 How can it—how should it be otherwise? All things 
 must have a salt taste—here is perpetual ‘monot- 
 ony. All things must be buttered or shortened— 
 here again is monotony. All things must be hot 
 with pepper—soaked or mashed—hot from the 
 oven or pan—semi-liquid, &c.—what is there in all 
 this but monotony, taking the month or the year 
 together, although there is variety at the same 
 meal. But this monotony and this stimulus of high 
 seasoning soon wear out the taste; and when once 
 worn out, it cannot be restored. 
 
 I know, full well, that high-seasoned dishes give 
 more gustatory pleasure than plain dishes, at first ; 
 but the keenness of our relish for them finally wears 
 out. But then the great difficulty soon is, not only 
 that we cannot enjoy what is not high-seasoned, hut 
 
COOKERY, AS IT Is. 311 
 
 also that we cannot enjoy a thing which is not sea- 
 soned in the right manner. And as no house- 
 keeper is perfect—as every one is likely to fail 
 occasionally of hitting right, especially in the pre- 
 paration of some one dish atva given table of a dozen 
 or twenty various articles, even where she knows 
 beforehand the tastes of all her household—as this 
 is much more likely to happen abroad than at 
 home—and as whenever it does happen, the fash- 
 ionable eater is at once miserable, can it be doubted 
 who is the gainer in the end, in mere gustatory 
 pleasure ? 
 
 Nor is this all. To a person who eats of fash- 
 ionable dishes and mixtures, there is only a small 
 portion of each meal, even at fashionable tables, 
 that really delights him. He eats almost every- 
 thing in the way of doimg penance. . Bread he 
 must eat, at least a little of it; but why? He 
 does not relish it. It is a kind of penance to eat 
 it. Because it is fashionable to make believe we 
 eat bread, we therefore taste a little of it; but even 
 when hot, it is insipid stuff to many. Besides, it 
 sometimes comes to the table cold. Potatoes, too, 
 even when mashed, buttered and peppered, go 
 down with some difficulty. ‘The same may, in 
 fact, be said of almost all the dishes. A modern 
 epicure is almost always eating the present dish 
 as a kind of introduction to something else: or as 
 
312 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 a kind of purgatory he must pass through to the 
 bliss beyond it. Whereas, the rational eater has 
 high gustatory pleasure, in even the simplest dish ; 
 and hence is never doing penance or going through 
 purgatory, eat what he will which he knows to be 
 wholesome. Indeed, to him all things are whole- 
 some, as I have already said, when they are the 
 best he can get. He enjoys one thing or another. 
 And if occasionally a dainty dish comes in his way, 
 and it seems necessary for him to partake of it, he 
 enjoys that too. He takes care, however, that such 
 dishes do not come in his way often ; for he knows 
 that if they do, they would soon spoil his appetite 
 for plain things. 
 
 The common belief, that those who eat ree 
 things and only one thing at a time, have less of 
 gustatory enjoyment than others, though utterly 
 unfounded, is nevertheless the rock on which thou- 
 sands and millions split. Many a house-keeper 
 ruins her own health and the health of her family 
 in this vain belief, and in the practice which 
 naturally results from it. For though both the 
 young and the old house-keeper often take very 
 great delight in showing their skill m compound- 
 ing and preparing dishes, and in furnishing the 
 table, at each meal, with a great variety, yet it is 
 not their pride in the matter which alone prompts 
 them. ‘They suppose that physical enjoyment is 
 
COOKERY, AS IT IS. 313 
 
 actually promoted by it; and if their own is, they 
 sxpect that of their households will be. And 
 Many pass through life and go down to the grave 
 in this deplorable error. Nay, the error gives 
 them upon the average six months of disease dur- 
 ing the progress of their whole lives, and deprives 
 them of from five to twenty years of life.. 
 
 I have been at a table provided for only about 
 half a dozen persons, most of whom required plain 
 food, and all of whom would have been contented 
 with two or three sorts, and yet the following was 
 the variety :—Bread of unbolted wheat meal, 
 Indian bread, wheat flour bread, boiled rice, boiled 
 Indian pudding, beans, potatoes, turnips and boiled 
 corn. Of these nine sorts, seven were cooked for 
 the occasion. 
 
 ~ Now why all this? Partly from a desire on the 
 part of the house-keeper to show her skill; much 
 from mere habit; but more than all, that there 
 might be variety, for variety’s sake. The idea 
 of sitting down to dinner with nothing on the table 
 but an Indian pudding of suitable size for six 
 persons, would seem to her monstrous. Or if toa 
 large platter of rice, or potatoes, or beans, she 
 should add bread also, still it would seem to her as 
 if there was nothing at all on the table. And if, 
 above all, the rice or the pudding had been boiled 
 the day before, and was to be eater without sauce. 
 
 : 
 
314 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. | 
 
 sugar, molasses or condiments, she would be unable 
 to suppress her feelings. No, indeed! unless she 
 had toiled a whole forenoon to get ready a dinner 
 of seven, eight or ten separate and different articles, 
 so that every one could taste a little bread, a little 
 meat, a little rice or pudding, a potatoe, a turnip, 
 and a few beans, with a little salt, vinegar, mo-- 
 lasses, cream or sauce, and unless all were blazing 
 hot, she would be miserable, and think those at her. 
 table so. 3 
 
 I know there are many things which consume 
 the time of a house-keeper besides mere cookery ; 
 but I also know that, as things are, the latter 
 comes in for a very large share of her efforts and 
 strength. It is no light task to prepare hot water 
 and make tea or coffee, twice or three times a 
 day ; to heat one’s self over the fire, the stove or 
 the oven, two-or three times a day; to prepare 
 several hot dishes for every meal; and to make 
 ready the sauces, gravies, and other accompani- 
 ments for each meal. Nor is it a small matter to 
 wash a host of plates, and platters, and tea cups, 
 and coffee bowls, and tumblers, and knives, and 
 forks, and spoons, three or four times a day. 
 
 I verily believe that it is the trimmings of our 
 meals—the non-essentials rather than the essen- 
 tials—that consume the great bulk of the time 
 of our females. Cooking there must indeed be; 
 
COOKERY, AS IT Is. 315 
 
 boiling, baking, stewing, roasting, &c.—but these 
 processes, as I shall endeavor to show in another 
 chapter, need not be so conducted as to absorb all 
 our time. There is no more need of cooking 
 everything new for each meal, than there is of 
 washing clothes every day ; not a whit. Nor is 
 there any necessity for having half a dozen courses 
 of food at the same meal. One course is enough, 
 and one cooked dish ‘is enough—for prince or 
 peasant—at one meal. ‘The preparation of meat, 
 and potatoes, and turnips, and pudding, and pie, 
 and fruits, to succeed each other as so many differ- 
 ent courses, with their accompaniments—pickles, 
 sauces, gravies, &c.—to say nothing of any hot 
 drinks to accompany them, is a species of tyranny 
 imposed by fashion, to which no house-keeper 
 ought ever to be compelled to submit. It may 
 be difficult for her to oppose the current ; but it is 
 for her life and the life of her husband and _ chil- 
 dren to do so. 
 
 I tremble when I think how woman’s time— 
 one of the most precious of the gifts of God—is 
 frittered away in pampering the wants and admin- 
 istering to the pleasures of the mere physical 
 nature of man. She must toil twelve, fifteen or 
 eighteen hours a day in attending to his apart- 
 ments, his clothes, his stomach, &c., and wear 
 herself out in this way, and leave the marks 
 
016 THE ‘YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 of this wear and tear in the constitutions of her 
 children ; and to her daughters the same legacy 
 which she herself received from her mother—the 
 permission to wear herself out prematurely in the 
 same manner—while the immortal minds and 
 hearts of her children, and husband, and domes- 
 - tics—if domestics she has—must be neglected ! 
 
 Nobody doubts that the mind is of more value 
 than the body—infinitely so; and few reject the 
 proposition, in the abstract, that woman is the 
 divinely appointed teacher of man; and yet where 
 is the person to be found, who labors, in any con- 
 siderable degree, to make her so? Where is the 
 person, indeed, who does not, by indulging the 
 demands of a pampered appetite, contribute daily 
 and hourly to rivet the chains of her slavery ? 
 
 And the worst of all is—I repeat the senti- 
 ment—woman neither knows nor feels her degra- 
 dation. Nay,she often glories in it. This is, n 
 fact, the worst feature of slavery ; it obliterates the 
 very relish of liberty, and makes the slave em- 
 brace her chains. Especially is this so with the 
 slavery of our lusts, and passions, and propensities, 
 and appetites. Woman not only toils on, the 
 willing slave of an arbitrary fashion that demands 
 of her to surrender her whole nature—bodily, 
 mental and moral—to the din of plates, and pots, 
 and kettles, but she is often proud of these employ- 
 
COOKERY, AS IT Is. 317 
 
 ments, and seeks her reputation in them. She 
 vainly seems to suppose that to prepare fashionable 
 compounds in the most fashionable styie, and to 
 set an immense variety of her fashionable com- 
 pounds on the same table, is to act up to the 
 highest dignity of her nature. I do not mean that 
 she ever asserts this, i so many words; but she 
 does so in her actions—and actions, according to 
 the old maxim, speak much louder than words. 
 Whereas the truth is, that while the bodies of 
 those whom she educates—for educate her house- 
 hold she does inevitably, whether it be well or ill— 
 should not be neglected, their morals and souls 
 should receive a large share of her attention ; and 
 in this, if m anything, should she principally glory. 
 She should be infinitely prouder of elicitmg a good, 
 and enlarged, and noble thought, and a warm, and 
 benevolent, and pious sentiment, than of making a 
 mince pie with eighteen different ingredients in it, 
 or of setting a table with forty-five various com- 
 pound dishes upon it. 
 
 If this book should fall into the hands of one 
 person who believes there is more of truth than dec- 
 lamation in the foregoing sentiments, let me prevail 
 with her when I urge her to read, and consider, 
 and study the chapters which follow. } 
 
 On this subject, I may be thought tedious ; 
 especially as I have dwelt upon ity at considerable 
 
818 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 length in the first chapter. But it is, in my view; 
 a matter of very great moment. If, says Mr. 
 Flint, in the Western Review, this world is ever 
 to be made better and happier, woman is to be a 
 principal agent in the great work. But what can 
 she do as things now are? Is she not completely 
 enslaved—voluntary, though her slavery may be— 
 to the never ending din of pots and kettles ? 
 
CHAPTER XLV. 
 
 _ COOKERY, AS IT SHOULD BE. 
 
 * Pulling down” and building up. Popular complaints 
 against dietetic writers. Examples of telling what people 
 should do. Boiling corn. Why cool food is better than 
 
 hot. Objections to cooking in large quantities at once. 
 Directions on the subject. Rice, beang and peas. Pota- 
 toes. Cooking economically. Employing children in 
 
 _ domestic concerns. Its advantages. Intentions of Provi- 
 dence in this matter. Objections considered. Why daugh- 
 ters hate domestic concerns. Proposed remedy. Oral 
 instruction by mothers who are house-keepers. Modified 
 plans. Rational cooking a simple and easy concern. 
 Three fourths of the time now spent in it wasted. 
 
 Ir is sometimes said of those who would reform 
 the customs of society, that they spend too large a 
 proportion of their time in telling what is wrong, 
 and too small a proportion of it in telling what is 
 right and proper; that they are, in short, more 
 ready and more anxious to pull down, than to 
 build up. 
 
 How just this charge may be, I will not pretend 
 to say; though it probably contains some truth. 
 And yet it often happens, that in speaking of what 
 
320 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 is wrong in human society, we do, almost of neces- 
 sity, allude to the right. The complaint that no 
 food or drink is fashionable now-a-days which is 
 not hot, implies and more than implies that he who 
 makes it, believes cool things are preferable. 
 
 But since some people are anxious and even clam- 
 orous—especially on the subject of diet and cook- 
 ery—to know what they should rather than what 
 they should not do, being either too busy or too 
 lazy to study the matter for themselves, and see 
 whether or not our complaints are well founded, I 
 will proceed to furnish a chapter which I trust 
 will be, in this respect, in accordance with their 
 wishes. J do not mean that I am going to give 
 them advice which they will be likely to follow 
 implicitly, for if there should be one house-keeper 
 in ten who should not fly into a passion with some 
 of my doctrines, I may think myself fortunate. I 
 only mean that 1 am ready to present one chapter 
 which may be sufficiently dictatorial and dogmati- 
 cal to meet the wishes of those who swallow so 
 eagerly the opinions of others, and who use least 
 the faculties of comparing, reflecting, and judging 
 for themselves which the great Creator has given 
 them. 
 
 I have shown, or at least endeavored to show, 
 that. corn, for example, properly boiled, is one of 
 the best articles of human: sustenance. Now if I 
 
COOKERY, AS IT SHOULD BE. 321 
 
 have been so successful as to make any house- 
 keeper believe this—if she has gained by my re- 
 marks any strength to overcome the belief. that 
 boiled corn is a vulgar dish, fit only for cattle and 
 swine, but degrading to the human animal—I am 
 now ready to give some general directions as to 
 the manner of preparing it. 
 
 Let it be prepared, then, as hommony is by our 
 southern brethren, in very large quantity. Instead 
 of boiling a quart, or two quarts, let the house- 
 keeper boil a peck at least; or if her household is 
 large and her culinary vessels large, and if the 
 weather is not hot, she may boil half a bushel. It 
 is little more labor to boil sixteen quarts than two. 
 But if not, then it is almost eight times as much 
 labor to boil sixteen quarts in little parcels of only 
 two quarts each, as to boil it all at once. And 
 in this way, would not seven eighths, or nearly 
 seven eighths, of the time and labor be saved? It 
 must be so. 
 
 Do not tell me of the labor of warming it over 
 after it is cold; for she who is disposed to urge a 
 plea like this, is not prepared to read this chapter. 
 Cold, or rather cool food, is not only better, but 
 even more agreeable to the pure taste, than that 
 which is hot. Just as much so, and for nearly the 
 same reasons, as cool air is better and more agree- 
 able to the lungs than air heated to 98°. AndI 
 
 21 
 
822 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 resard it, by the way, just as necessary to the best 
 health that food for the healthy should go into the 
 stomach at a temperature considerably lower than 
 the temperature of that stomach, as it is that air 
 should go into the lungs of a lower temperature 
 than that of the blood, which is about 98°. ‘True, 
 people may live, and do live, in very hot regions ; 
 but nobody can be very long-lived, or very healthy 
 or happy while life lasts, in a country where the 
 temperature is always up to 98°, or even not so 
 considerably below it as to give them the sensation 
 of coolness; neither can the highest health and 
 longevity be promoted by food and drink whose 
 temperature is not considerably lower than that of 
 the stomach. But I have spoken of this before. 
 Do not say food will spoil in so large a mass ; 
 for you need not keep it in a large mass. It may 
 be spread a little, or at least kept in two or more 
 parcels. But it need not be kept long. A large. 
 family—and it is only for a very large family and 
 in cold weather, that I would cook such a quan 
 tity—making their meals of nothing but boiled 
 corn twice a day—for I would have it constitute 
 the whole of two meals in three every day, 
 for a day or two after it is first cooked—would 
 soon consume half a bushel. A family of eight 
 persons only, three adults and five children and 
 youth—and this is not a very large family—would 
 
COOKERY, AS IT SHOULD BE. 823 
 
 consume about three pints of it at a meal; per- 
 haps two quarts. Older children eat almost as 
 much food as adults. But at the rate of three or - 
 four quarts a day, the quantity I have mentioned 
 would only last four or five days. If such solid 
 and highly nutritious food is used for two meals 
 of each day, for four or five days, the third meal 
 of each day might and should be lighter—as sweet 
 apples, or other good, wholesome fruits, or turnips, 
 or beets, or potatoes :—or perhaps raspberries for 
 to-day, strawberries for to-morrow, and apples, or 
 potatoes, or beets for the next day. Now in this 
 way how small is the amount of cookery required 
 for sustaining life and health in the best condition, 
 and securing at the same time a full amount of 
 gustatory enjoyment ? 
 
 If rice is to be prepared, boiled or baked—if 
 beans or peas—if hommony or hasty pudding—if 
 meat or fish—if chesnuts or prunes—the same 
 general remarks will be applicable which I have 
 made in relation to boiled corn. As with corn, so 
 with each of these, the perfection of their use con- 
 sists in making one entire meal—perhaps two— 
 each day, of a single article, and this without any 
 addition of condiments, sauces or gravies. 
 
 There is a very great difference in articles of 
 food, in regard to keeping them uninjured—even 
 if equal pains are taken. Some may be kept 
 
324 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 twice as Jong as others. ‘Thus bread which is well 
 baked, and kept in a dry, pure, airy place, may be 
 preserved, sometimes for whole weeks, uninjured— 
 and usually a single week ;—and wafer cakes or 
 coarse crackers a month or more; while boiled 
 potatoes, or beans, or hasty pudding, will become 
 more or less acid in a much shorter time. Still 
 they will not spoil near as soon, if cooked as they 
 ought to be, as in other circumstances. ‘Thus 
 beans, whether boiled or baked, should have no 
 butter or any other substance mixed with them, 
 except water, and they should be cooked alone. 
 There should even be no more water than is abso- 
 lutely necessary in order to cook them. And 
 when they are cooked sufficiently, the water should 
 be evaporated slowly, so as to leave them very 
 dry and mealy. ‘They are also better, if while 
 they are boiled soft, they remain wholly unbroken. 
 And the same remarks which I have made in re- 
 gard to beans, are applicable also to peas. Cooked 
 in this way—that is, if ripe—they may not only be 
 preserved a great deal better, but they are richer, 
 and more palatable ; and what is of more conse- 
 quence still, they are less liable to produce flatu- 
 lence, and are more wholesome. 
 
 Cooked in the best manner, in the spirit of the 
 foregoing directions, beans and peas may be pre- 
 served—unless the weather is very hot—for at 
 
COOKERY, AS IT SHOULD BE. 320 
 
 least two days; and in very cool, dry weather, 
 and in a proper place, for three days. But if 
 baked with meat and other food, or if filled with 
 butter and pepper after they are cooked, before 
 they are set away, orif left moist and watery, -or 
 kept in hot or damp rooms, you cannot expect to 
 preserve them. 
 
 Potatoes, if mealy and cooked properly, may, as 
 I have said elsewhere, be preserved one or two 
 days, according to the state of the weather and 
 other circumstances. But cooking them is so 
 simple a process, that if it were to be done twice a 
 day, it could not be tedious. If you use a com- 
 mon fire-place, you have only to roast them in the 
 ashes, and after brushing them well, let every one 
 peel them for himself; if a cooking stove, you can 
 bake them with the same or nearly the same facility ; 
 and if you are compelled to boil them, it is still no 
 great task. You can easily boil half a peck ora 
 peck ; and in a large family, and when used as a 
 principal article of food for a day or so, they are 
 soon consumed. I know a family of six persons, 
 three adults and three children, who consume about 
 a peck of potatoes daily. 
 
 If the house-keeper and her household can once 
 get free from their slavery to hot food, a great 
 work is achieved, and a great step made towards 
 reform. Then it will not be necessary to cook 
 
326 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 half a dozen sorts in a hurry, in order to have 
 them ready at the very next meal. She can cook 
 many things at her leisure, even while pursuing 
 other occupations, especially with the aid of her 
 children. 
 
 She is washing, for example—and is donipsitel 
 to have a large fire. If it be in a fire-place, she 
 can soon give such directions to her children, | 
 as will enable them, under her eye, to select a 
 quantity of potatoes, either large, small or mid- 
 dling—for their size should be uniform—and rake 
 them. up properly in the coals and embers ; and if 
 a stove is used, with chambers or ovens in it, for 
 baking, the process is still more simple. 
 
 I have spoken of cooking on washing days, not 
 because it is indispensable, but only for the sake 
 of the economy, and to show how simple a thing 
 rational cookery is; and how compatible it is with 
 other employments, even those which are usually — 
 reckoned the least so. For if cooking can be done 
 on washing days, under what circumstances may it 
 not be done? . 
 
 But there is no necessity of doing it on these 
 days, except for economy’s sake. Suppose the 
 washing day, as is usual, to be Monday ; it is easy 
 to have on hand good bread enough of several 
 kinds, good corn, good rice, good hommony, good 
 beans, or good apples. None of these articles, 
 
COOKERY, AS IT SHOULD BE. 327 
 
 properly prepared on Saturday, or even on Friday, . 
 will spoil by Monday, in any ordinary circum- 
 stances :—so that no family would suffer, if the 
 whole day were devoted to washing, and no new 
 article for the table were prepared. 
 
 I have alluded to the ease with which some’ 
 kinds of cookery can go on at the same time with 
 other employments, even with washing. But it is 
 sull more compatible with ironing, sewing, knitting, 
 mending, instructing children, &c. Suppose it is 
 desired by the housewife, to prepare a quantity of 
 Indian cakes—johnny cakes, so called. Suppose, 
 too—for this is a pre-requisite—the family to be 
 no longer slaves to hot food. The cakes are 
 wanted, not merely for the next meal, but to form 
 three or four of the next eight or nine meals of 
 the family. How simple the process! The house- 
 keeper has but to wet and properly mix and pre- 
 pare the mass of Indian meal, and mould it into 
 the proper or usual shapes. ‘The son or daughter 
 ean place the cakes at the fire, attend them, and 
 remove them when they are done. I am not ig- 
 norant that their assistance will at first cost about 
 as much, in direction and oversight, as it is worth ; 
 but it will not be so long. Ghurls will soon learn 
 so much of simple cookery as to render their aid 
 exceedingly valuable; nor are all boys slow in ac- 
 quiring the same kind of knowledge. 
 
828 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 The idea of requiring boys to assist the mother, 
 in this way, may strike some, at first view, as a 
 little heterodox, or at least fanciful; but I do not 
 so regard it. Such a practice is by no means un- 
 common in country places. I have known many 
 boys, in large families, where there were few if any 
 daughters, who, at ten or twelve, or fourteen years 
 of age, could do nearly every kind of housework— 
 washing and baking not always excepted—with as 
 much neatness, facility and correctness as girls of 
 the same age; and I have never known a young 
 man of this description who did not, in after life, 
 consider this knowledge as quite a valuable acqui- 
 sition. 
 
 How many are the advantages of such a cus- 
 tom! Not every family has girls in it. Some- 
 times, too, the boys are the oldest. And even 
 when there are girls in the family, the labors of 
 both girls and boys may often be needed. How 
 many a Jad, by being employed in this way, under 
 the eye of his mother—God’s viceroy and his own 
 natural educator and instructor—would be kept not 
 only from idleness, but from the terrible conse- 
 quences of idleness—vice, and crime, and punish- 
 ment ! 
 
 Ido not mean to say that all boys should be 
 employed in this manner, at all times. Of course 
 they often have other labors or employments as- 
 
COOKERY, AS IT SHOULD BE. 329 
 
 signed them by the mutual consent of the parents. 
 But what I would aim at, in these remarks, is, to’ 
 ‘remove from the minds of mothers—and if possible, 
 
 fathers, too—any lingering doubts which may remain 
 
 in regard to the propriety of thus employing this 
 
 part of their household. 
 
 If it is said that boys will think the employments 
 to which I refer, improper for them, or even degrad- 
 ing, I reply, that they will never think so—at least 
 Ihave never known them to appear to think so— 
 till they learn it from the public sentiment, either 
 in doors or out. Now as to the public sentiment 
 of the household, it is one of my objects in writing 
 these paragraphs, to set that right; but where 
 that is right,a wrong sentiment out of doors, will, 
 for some time at least, have but little influence. 
 
 If it is said that such employments will be irk- 
 some to boys, who are naturally disposed to be 
 more active and less sedentary, I reply, that they 
 are no doubt improper to be followed steadily ; nor 
 is it necessary. ‘This is not what I would incul- 
 cate or defend.’ A small part of their time, a small 
 number of hours thus spent, each day, would be 
 invaluable to a mother who had no other help, or 
 even to one who had. For to own the whole truth, 
 T would have all boys employed more or less in this 
 way while young, let the circumstances of the fam- 
 ily be what they may. 
 
330 THE YOUNG. HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 I have sometimes inclined strongly to the opin- 
 ion, that boys ought to be trained to perform the 
 heavy part of the washing of every family—the 
 mere washing, I mean, without the irohing—as one 
 of the proper employments of our own sex. I. 
 Because men, from their superior strength, will per- 
 form the labor so much easier, and when trained to 
 it, so much better than women. 2. Because I 
 know of no way of retrenching in this matter, so as 
 on the whole to diminish the amount of this sort of 
 Jabor ina family ; on the contrary, my views, if 
 carried out, would require a much greater amount 
 of washing than is usually done. 3. It is an em- 
 ployment which is more purely mechanical—a 
 work which has less to do with forming physical 
 and moral character—than most other employments 
 usually assigned to females. 4. Woman has quite 
 enough of hard work to do without it; especially 
 if she spend several hours of nearly every day of 
 the week in the open air, walking or riding, or at 
 the proper season laboring moderately in the gar- 
 den or the field. 5. If she performs her other 
 duties correctly, according to the spirit of the 
 principles which I am endeavoring to inculcate in 
 this volume, she will save so much of the usual 
 expenses attendant on house-keeping, that the hus- 
 band can well afford to spare his son for the pur- 
 pose. 
 
COOKERY, AS IT SHOULD BE. 331 
 
 Although I have given several reasons why 1 
 think boys ought to be trained to assist their moth: 
 ers about washing, and perhaps to do with their 
 own hands the heaviest parts of it, it is not because 
 the mother has no time for it. She has time enough 
 for it, if she pursue the course of reform in house- 
 keeping which [have suggested. Nor is it because 
 there are not washer-women and might not be wash- 
 er-men to do the work, either at our own houses or 
 theirs. It is—I repeat it—chiefly because it is 
 too purely a mechanical process for woman to 
 engage in. 
 
 God, in his providence, seems to have assigned 
 to man, in social life, the preparation of the raw 
 material, as it were ; and to woman, the process of 
 working itup.* ‘The preparation of this raw ma- 
 terial, it is indeed true, can be made a means of 
 intellectual and moral development and elevation, 
 much more than it usually is, especially with the 
 agriculturist ; but after all, itis not so much man’s 
 
 * Let not the idea, that man is, by his more rugged nature, 
 formed to do the coarser work of human life—to prepare the 
 raw material, as | have expressed it—while woman, whose 
 nature is all softness and love, is chiefly privileged to educate 
 the child—to work up the material into body, mind and soul 
 —let not this idea, I say, be rejected, until it has been duly 
 considered. Ifit should be found true, it would help to de- 
 cide, more than anything else, the often agitated question, 
 What is the appropriate sphere of woman? 
 
302 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 business to educate, as woman’s. Man does not 
 have the daughter with him much of the time ; no, 
 nor even the son, till his character is more than half 
 formed. 
 
 Now I wish to have the indications of Provi- 
 dence, in this matter, carefully attended to. As 
 man’s employment seems to be coarser, and at a 
 remoter distance from the child’s mind and heart, 
 to say nothing of his body, I would have him 
 perform those employments, as much as possible, 
 which are most purely mechanical, and which have 
 the least direct tendency to form and develope 
 character. But if woman performs all the other 
 duties which are usually considered as belonging 
 to her department—sweeping, scouring, ironing, 
 ventilating rooms, beds and furniture, cooking, 
 nursing, &c.—and if she performs them intelligibly 
 to herself and her children, and is at the same time 
 in all other respects their instructor and educator, it 
 appears to me that she has as much as she can do, 
 and more perhaps than she ought to do. 
 
 If woman saves to man the trouble and expense 
 of school-masters and physicians—and this she 
 ought in a great measure to do—he-can certainly 
 afford to spare her the trouble of such drudgery as 
 washing. I know, indeed, that washing may be 
 made, by the love of woman, an instructive process : 
 but it is with some difficulty. ‘The best way is to 
 
COOKERY, AS IT SHOULD BE. 333 
 
 leave it to the mechanism of man. It is much 
 more reasonable to leave the washing to man than 
 the baking ; and yet society, in what are called its 
 most precious forms, is inundated with bakers of 
 our sex. | 
 
 But to return to my subject, from which I may 
 seem to have wandered.—Even if some fastidious 
 reader should shrink from the idea of employing 
 boys or men in anything which pertains to cookery 
 or washing, there are numerous other services, of 
 which it is scarcely necessary for me to remind 
 those house-keepers who are mothers, which it is 
 highly useful, both to the employers and the em- 
 ployed, that they should render ; and which are, in 
 my view, no less valuable than direct aid in cookery. 
 
 How to make children of both sexes happy— 
 yes, happiest—with the mother, requires, in all 
 its details, a separate and very different volume from 
 this. At present I will only say, that one reason 
 why daughters are not more happy in domestic 
 employments, is because mothers are not; and that 
 if mothers wish either sons or daughters to enjoy 
 their society, and love domestic life and its employ- 
 ments, they must first themselves cease to regard 
 them as irksome. They must not only do this, but 
 they must manifest the sincerity of their love for 
 these employments, by conversing with their chik 
 dren about them. 
 
334 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 Thus, while the mother is sewing or knitting, 
 and one of the children is attending to the cakes,* 
 or the potatoes, or the rice, or the beans, the 
 mother can enter into familiar conversation on the 
 subjects before them. Suppose they are simply 
 baking a platter of rice in the oven of the stove. 
 It had been prepared and set in by the mother 
 before she sat down to her work. All the child 
 has to do, is to watch and see that it does not bake 
 too fast, or that the water is not wholly evaporated. 
 In the mean time, is it of no importance to the 
 child, to know how many hundreds of millions of 
 people in the world live either chiefly or wholly on 
 rice—how they raise it—how they cook it—what 
 they eat with it for sauce or condiment—and why 
 our modes of cooking and using it are preferable to 
 theirs? Or suppose the child is attending the set- 
 ting in, watching, turning and taking up of a quan- 
 tity of unleavened wheat meal cakes, previously 
 kneaded and shaped by the mother, would it not be 
 productive of the highest interest, yes, and profit, 
 too, to know what nations of the east live chiefly 
 on this sort of food—how they cook it—what they 
 
 *] am thinking, here, not only of Indian cakes, but of 
 cakes made of unbolted wheat or rye meal. And now my 
 readers will see how it is that I can reconcile the making of 
 these cakes with good, and just, and sound views of domestic 
 economy. 
 
COOKERY, AS IT SHOULD BE. 339 
 
 eat with it—their customs as to knives, forks, 
 spoons, &c.—and why our modes of cooking and 
 eating it are preferable to theirs ? 
 
 Beginning thus at bome, by telling about the 
 food.we are cooking, the implements used, &c., 
 the young mind might be led along, from time to 
 time, to the manners and customs, the geography 
 and the history, the character and the religion, of 
 the various nations adverted to in speaking about 
 the food; and as the mind was duly developed 
 and made ready for it, the house-keeper might 
 speak of the elements of our food, its chemical na- 
 ture, the method of raising it, the chemical changes 
 produced by cooking, and finally, the effects pro- 
 duced on the human constitution by its use, which 
 would lead to familiar conversation on anatomy, 
 physiology, and the laws of health. 
 
 In short, there is no end to the instruction which 
 might be given by an intelligent housewife—one 
 who was in love with her profession—to her young 
 apprentices ; nor is there any end to the curiosity 
 of the young on all subjects. 
 
 Let me not—I repeat the request—be regarded 
 as visionary in all this. I have seen all I have 
 recommended, or at least the substantials of it; in 
 practice ; and I have seen the house-keeper and 
 the household reaping a harvest from it, both as 
 regards economy, health and happiness. Experi- 
 
336 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 ments of the kind have indeed, as yet, been rare ; 
 but they have been frequent enough to show what 
 can be done. For what has been done, may be 
 done again. 
 
 The simple modes of cooking I have recom- 
 mended in the beginning of this chapter, and the 
 general principles I am laboring all along to incul- 
 cate, if followed out, will lead to social indepen- 
 dence, as well as to social felicity. ‘The mother 
 will be her own house-keeper, even if she performs 
 all her own baking, washing, &c., and have time 
 enough to educate her own children into the bar- 
 gain. And if she lives in town or city, where her 
 duties as a house-keeper are greatly imcreased, 
 other aids are multiplied. Cities contain profes- 
 sional bakers, and tailors, and washer-women ; so 
 that even in the city, the mother, with her appren- 
 tices and her partner in trade, should still be the 
 sole house-keeper. Let me not be misunderstood. 
 I am speaking of families in health, and which 
 contain no members but their own. 
 
 In commencing this chapter, I have gone upon 
 the principle of adopting those household plans 
 which are most compatible with health, without 
 any compromise. I have spoken as if simplicity 
 at the same meal, with variety at different meals, 
 coal food, no drinks but water, and no condiments, 
 were indispensable ; and as if no quarter were to 
 
COOKERY, AS IT SHOULD BE. Oot 
 
 be given to anything which is more in conformity 
 with fashionable life. 
 
 The rejection of hot drinks I consider indispen- 
 sable, and I am unwilling to make any concession 
 in their favor. More than this, even; I believe 
 that no drink ought to be used with meals.—But 
 if any one thinks otherwise, let him at least confine 
 himself to water. ‘This is his best, indeed 1 might 
 say, his only drink. It is all—even of the coffee, 
 and tea, and cider—which quenches or ever did 
 quench his natural thirst. 
 
 But if people are determined to use condiments, 
 some of them may be used without increasing 
 much the labor of the house-keeper. Molasses, sugar 
 and honey, to be added to rice, puddings, or other 
 substances, (although I never use any such thing,) 
 neither require nor involve much labor. ‘The same 
 may be said of vinegar, salt, pepper, spice, Xe. ; 
 though not of gravies, compound sauces, jellies, 
 pickles, preserves, grated cheese, butter, &c. ‘These 
 last ought not to be admissible by those who would 
 be simple, frugal, healthful and happy. 
 
 Again, if there are those who cannot, or who 
 fancy they cannot, use temperate or cool food, it 
 may be warmed a little, without much trouble. It 
 costs a house-keeper very little labor to let a quan- 
 tity of hommony, or bread, or rice, or potatoes, stand 
 half an hour, or an hour, by the stove or fire-place, 
 
 22 
 
338 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER, 
 
 till its temperature is somewhat raised. If in proper 
 vessels, properly covered or defended from dust, 
 any child can attend to it. 
 
 Lastly, if there are some who wish to be simple, 
 but cannot at first be reconciled to the idea of eat- 
 ing of only one plain dish at a meal, they can use 
 several. I have indeed said that the perfection of 
 a meal consists in having but one article of food, 
 and in having it prepared and eaten in the most 
 simple manner. Still the union of two or three 
 articles of kindred nature, as I have elsewhere inti- 
 mated, is but a slight departure from the perfect 
 law. 
 
 As the housewife, time immemorial, has been 
 accustomed to have her washing day, ber baking 
 day, and her brewing day, (when brewing was in 
 fashion,) so can she now, if she chooses, have her 
 boiling day or her roasting day. She can devote 
 a day to boiling in a proper manner a large quan- 
 tity of wholesome farinaceous vegetables, or roast- 
 ing or baking a quantity of unleavened cakes ; and 
 then whether one or a dozen of those which she 
 has on hand are eaten at the same meal, she is not 
 obliged to boil again for two or three days; or she 
 can cook at her leisure, and with comparatively 
 little trouble, during the progress of every day. 
 
 I must again say, that all which. pertains to 
 rational cookery in a family, is very easily accom- 
 
COOKERY, AS IT SHOULD BE. 339 
 
 plished ; and that it is the trimmings of our tables 
 —the non-essentials rather than the essentials— 
 that so absorb the precious time of females. It is 
 the preparing of tea, or coffee, or chocolate, or some 
 hot drink, for nearly every meal ; and the prepara- 
 tion of the dishes for these and their accompani- 
 ments—sugar, molasses, cream, &c. It is the 
 preparation of hot rolls, hot biscuits, short cake, 
 rich puddings, fritters, doughnuts, mince pies, and 
 sausages—substances which, were they more easily 
 prepared, ought never to enter a human stomach. 
 It is the preparing of sauces, and gravies, and soups, 
 and jellies, and ketchup, and tomatoes, and pickles, 
 and oysters, and flummery, and the thousand simi- 
 lar things, to assist in giving rather than in gratify- 
 ing an appetite—ultimately to spoil it. It has 
 come to this, at length, that you can scarcely sit 
 down with plain people to what is called a plain 
 meal, and find anything simple. Meat must have 
 been salted and saltpetred, and perhaps smoked ; 
 and then it must be cooked with eges; or if fresh 
 meat or fish be used, it must be tortured into some 
 unnatural shape or other, and peppered and gra- 
 vied. A pudding of Indian, sweet already and 
 rich as it ought to be, must have molasses and suet 
 in it; and be buttered and sugared or sauced after- 
 ward. All sorts of pastry must be filled with lard 
 or butter and eggs, and eaten hot, and with butter. 
 
340 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 Mince pies must consist of eighteen or twenty dif- 
 ferent articles. Even plain bread cannot be eaten 
 plain. It must be hot, or toasted, or made into 
 pap ; and plain fruits, rich from the Creator’s hand, 
 must be cooked, or in other words, tortured. — 
 
 Is it not certain, in view of this whole subject, 
 that more than three fourths of the time now em- 
 ployed by housewives, on that which is of no ad- 
 vantage except to blunt slowly our appetites, de- 
 stroy slowly our teeth and our powers of digestion, 
 ruin our health, benumb our minds, and stupify 
 our immortal souls, might, with perfect ease, and 
 with a great gain even of physical enjoyment, be 
 redeemed and employed in the more noble busi- 
 ness of preparing and administering mental. and 
 moral food to those whose whole natures are con- 
 tinually perishing, as they have been in all ages, 
 for the want of it? We shall better see how this 
 is, by a few estimates on the subject. 
 
CHAPTER XLVI. 
 
 ECONOMY OF TIME, BY A REFORMATION IN 
 COOKERY. 
 
 Estimates of labor. Table. Results of the estimates, Facts. 
 Difficulties—some of them removed. Three fourths of 
 female labor in cooking might be saved. Anecdotes to 
 illustrate the subject. 
 
 In prosecuting my inquiries on the subject of 
 cookery, I submitted to several experienced house- 
 keepers, in this city, the consideration of the fol- 
 lowing question :—For how many adult individuals 
 can an adult female of average strength and skill, 
 prepare and furnish plain articles of food, if she 
 has nothing else to do, and no other cares? It 
 is also understood, by the way, that the persons 
 for whom she thus provides are, for the time, to 
 use but one article of food, and not to exceed 
 two pounds of it in a day. ‘They are, moreover, 
 to drink nothing but water, and to give the house- 
 keeper no other trouble than just to prepare the 
 table, wash the dishes, and perform the usual col- 
 lateral duties. 
 
342 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 The answer to my inquiries was as follows: 
 
 Of unbolted wheat meal bread, for 50 persons. 
 
 *¢ Rice, boiled or baked, sie ee 
 ‘“ Hommony, Oe, ee 
 “© Hasty pudding, or wilt io ae 
 “© Hulled corn, “ 40 ee 
 ‘¢ Brown bread, (rye and Indian,) “ 75 ¢ 
 ‘«« Beans, boiled or baked, ae: a 
 cc Peas, éé 75 66 
 “Potatoes, boiled, steamed, baked 
 
 or roasted, “« 50 as 
 * Unleavened cakes—thick, and 
 
 made of wheat, rye, &c., 0 - 
 “. Indian cakes, . a ere 
 
 The foregoing are some of the more substantial 
 —I wish I could say more common—articles of 
 food, in use among vegetable eaters, and hence it 
 was that I fixed my eye upon them. It is indeed 
 true that no house-keeper can be expected to be 
 exclusively employed in cooking a single article 
 for twenty, fifty, or seventy-five adults, for weeks 
 and months together; but I trust the time is not 
 far distant when the business: of intelligent and 
 christian house-keepers, so far as cookery only is 
 concerned, will be chiefly confined—not by con- 
 straint, but voluntarily—to a selection of dishes, 
 which, in addition to the fruits of the season, and 
 beets, turnips, carrots, parsnips, onions, &c., shall 
 not embrace a much wider range. 1 speak now 
 
ECONOMY OF TIME. 343 
 
 of the substantial articles of diet for every day’s 
 use, without intending wholly and at all times to 
 exclude sago, tapioca, arrow-root, maccaroni, and 
 “even a few of the plainer pies and cakes. 
 
 It will also be seen that, with the exception of 
 two or three of the more important of these articles, 
 a house-keeper is believed to be able to cook for 
 about fifty adult persons a day. The average for 
 the whole is about fifty-three. In other words, if 
 eleven house-keepers were employed, the first in 
 preparing wheat meal bread for fifty persons, the 
 second, rice for fifty others, the fourth, hasty pud- 
 ding for seventy -five more, and so on, the whole 
 number of persons thus provided for at the eleven 
 tables, would be five hundred aud eighty-five, or 
 an average of fifty-three to each. 
 
 It should, however, be observed in this place, 
 that it was deemed indispensable by the individ- 
 uals who were consulted on the subject, that in 
 order to cook for so large a number of persons, 
 there must be a full supply of culinary vessels and 
 utensils, and that these must be of a sufficient size, 
 and properly constructed. But, on the other hand, 
 the allowance of two pounds of food a day is very 
 large—almost twice as large as is demanded 
 order to promote our greatest physical comfort and 
 well-being in the aggregate; and those who are 
 provided for are all considered as adults. The 
 
344 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 usual proportion of children would, I think, so alter 
 the case that the same house-keeper would be able 
 to cook and provide for about one fifth as many 
 more as if the whole were adults; so that the: 
 average, instead of being fifty-three, would be 
 about sixty-six. , 
 
 I ought also, in justice to that simplicity on 
 which these calculations have an important bear- 
 ing, to say, that I was assured by the house-keepers 
 above-mentioned, that they bad made their esti- 
 mates in reference to the strength and skill of 
 females as they now are, in the city of Boston, 
 and not as they should be; nor indeed as they 
 actually are in the country. One of them stated, 
 that instead of preparing wheat bread for fifty per- 
 sons, she believed that many a strong and robust 
 female would, by laboring hard, prepare a sufficient 
 supply for two hundred. 
 
 But I have also consulted other house-keepers 
 on this highly interesting subject. ‘The result of 
 my inquiries, added to a long course of observa- 
 tion, has convinced me that the foregoing estimates 
 are exceedingly low. ‘The truth is, there was a 
 general wish to avoid exaggeration ; and to state 
 everything quite within the limits of truth. I be- 
 lieve that ten of the twelve individuals I consulted 
 would, without the least detriment to their health, 
 do twice the quantity of work which is by the 
 
ECONOMY OF TIME. 345 
 
 statement assigned to others. One of the number 
 has been actually known, for a single season or so, 
 to provide, not one article merely, but the very large 
 “variety of a temperance boarding house, (with the 
 exception of baking bread,) for about fifty persons— 
 a task equal to that of cooking a single article for 
 one hundred and fifty, if not for two hundred. 
 The interesting experiment of Robert Owen, of 
 New Lanark, in Scotland, together with extensive 
 observations elsewhere, compelled him to the fol- 
 lowing conclusions ; viz., that under the best ar- 
 rangements which, in the present state of art, sci- 
 ence, and human improvement, can be made, “the 
 same trouble will provide for one thousand as is 
 now required for one family,” 
 that in such circumstances as a due regard to the 
 
 or, in other words, 
 
 formation of social and moral character most impe- 
 riously demand, at the present time, and as are 
 entirely practicable, “the best provisions will be 
 cooked in the best manner, under arrangements 
 that will enable five or six individuals to prepare 
 provisions for one thousand.” He adds, moreover, 
 that all this can be done, too, in not more than 
 eight hours a day of pleasant occupation. I have 
 nothing to do with Mr. Owen’s speculations and 
 theories, social, political or moral; but here he 
 spoke as a plain, practical man; and I believe 
 future experience will show that he was right. 
 
346 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 But, it may be said, should one family live on 
 bread, another on rice, another on potatoes, &c. ? 
 Or would you have a family live a month -or a 
 year on a single article, be it ever so excellent? 
 No such thing. I havea different object in view— 
 wholly so. ‘That object is to redeem a part of the 
 time of every female, and especially every mother, 
 from a less noble employment, so that she may be 
 enabled to devote a reasonable proportion of her 
 hours daily to a task more excellent—nay, more 
 glorious—that of cultivating or improving the mind 
 and heart of herself and others. 
 
 If females cajling themselves tolerably healthy 
 and skilful can, upon the average, cook for families 
 of sixty-six persons a day—and I cannot avoid 
 thinking this to be the smallest number which I 
 ought to name, in such a connection—then a family 
 which consists of six persons should employ a 
 house-keeper in the same way, but an eleventh 
 part of her time; and one of eleven persons—a 
 very large one of course—only one sixth. This 
 would seem to leave five sixths, in the one case, 
 and ten elevenths in the other, for more noble and 
 useful ermployments. 
 
 There will be a thousand difficulties, in the 
 minds of many, with these statements, cautiously 
 guarded as they are, to avoid exaggeration. Nor 
 is it an easy task, after all, to make, in few words, 
 
ECONOMY OF TIME. 347 
 
 all the qualifications which are necessary. More 
 time, for example, is consumed, in proportion to 
 the number of members of a family, when that 
 number is small, than when it is large. It takes 
 nearly as long to set a table and’spread a cloth for 
 five persons as for twenty ; and this being done, 
 five persons are actually as long in eating as fifty 
 or five hundred. It may also be thought that if a 
 family requires or demands bread at a certain meal, 
 hommony at the next, rice at the next, potatoes at 
 the next, &c., or if they require two or three plain 
 dishes at the same meal, the labor of the house- 
 keeper will be greatly increased. It may indeed 
 be slightly so, in the necessary washing of a few 
 more dishes ; but the difference will not be great. 
 
 On the whole, therefore, and in view of all con- 
 siderations, I believe it will be safe to say, that the 
 cooking of the most rational, and wholesome, and 
 appropriate articles of food, in the most rational 
 and wholesome manner, for families of from five to 
 ten persons, ought not, in any case, to consume 
 more than one fourth of a healthy house-keeper’s 
 time; and that in all cases she can have and 
 ought to have three fourths of it for other pur- 
 poses. If she buys her bread of the baker, the 
 time demanded for cooking is still less ; but the 
 making of her own bread is a point on which I - 
 especially insist as indispensable. 
 
348 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 Of the three fourths of her time thus remaining, one 
 fourth will need to be devoted to washing, ironing, 
 mending, making, &c. At some seasons, the pro- 
 portion may be greater than one fourth, especially 
 if we insist largely on cleanliness. On the other 
 hand, if the washing and making be done out of 
 the family—and I see no reason why, in most 
 cases, it may not be—where mothers have large 
 families, these last named occupations will con- 
 sume less than one fourth of the time of a female. 
 In any case, however, she will have about one 
 half her time saved to be devoted to other pur- 
 poses ; viz., to the social, the intellectual, the moral, 
 and the religious education of herself, her husband, 
 and her children. 
 
 Of the particular methods of conducting this 
 education, I do not intend, in this place, to speak. 
 The task of suggesting what proportion of time 
 should be allotted to conversation, walks, reading, 
 study, visiting, recreation, school, &c., would of it- 
 self require a volume. 
 
 It is indeed true, that every step which the 
 house-keeper takes is educating, physically, the 
 household over which she presides; especially the 
 younger members of it. A due attention to food, 
 drink, air, cleanliness, &c., is one of the most im- 
 portant departments of human education, especially 
 when we consider how much a sound mind and 
 
ECONOMY OF TIME. 349 
 
 heart depend on a sound and healthy condition of 
 the body. Nor is it less true that a house-keeper 
 may be giving much social and moral—not to say 
 intellectual—instruction, in the way of interesting 
 conversation with the children, while she is actually 
 at labor; as I have already said elsewhere. __ 
 
 It is most cheerfully acknowledged that the 
 views here presented would have met with a 
 better reception fifty years ago, while few of our 
 mothers were removed, either by pride or ill health, 
 from the duties of the kitchen. But it must also 
 be remembered, that the work was not then needed. 
 It is the very errors of modern times that render 
 what I say so necessary to be heard. It is be- 
 cause mothers have not only ceased to be house- 
 keepers, but in ceasing to be the physical educa- 
 tors of their families, they are losing their intel- 
 lectual, and social, and moral influence. Never, I 
 say again, can the world be what it should be, till 
 the mother and the house-keeper are re-united, as a 
 general rule, in the same individual ; nay, more— 
 till parents and domestic circles become, for the 
 most part, the educators and seminaries of education 
 of our race. 
 
 I might fill a long chapter, (even in these days 
 of degeneracy,) did my limits permit, with exam. 
 ples which go to show not only that woman can 
 do all that I propose, but that she and the world 
 
350 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 around her are blessed in her deeds. I might 
 speak of a lady, now more than seventy years of 
 age, who for forty years bas had boarders in her 
 family—usually from four to fifteen—and though 
 most of the time a widow, with two young daugh- 
 ters, and in poverty, has done all her work and 
 going to market, with no help, except occasionally 
 a little aid about her washing—and who is able 
 still to do the work for four or five boarders. I 
 might name a mother, not remarkably healthy, who, 
 with several children—one of them not over three 
 months old—a husband, and a very aged and al- 
 most helpless mother, for her family, will bake a 
 large quantity of bread, get breakfast, and take care 
 of her children, and have everything out of the 
 way by nine o’clock in the morning. True, such 
 examples are rare; but they show what can be 
 done when an attempt is made. 
 
CHAPTER XLVI. 
 
 EXPENSE OF ANIMAL AND VEGETABLE FOOD 
 COMPARED. 
 
 Table of comparisons. Results. Objections considered. 
 Examples to illustrate the subject. Another table of 
 comparison. Preservation of cooked vegetable food. A 
 third table. Fourth table. Reflections. 
 
 In order to make some estimates of the compar- 
 ative saving of expense, both of time and money, 
 by adopting a simple system of house-keeping, I 
 have constructed the following table of prices of 
 articles by the pound, (the best in their kind,) as 
 usually obtained in the quantities purchased by 
 most families; and at the prices—some high and 
 others low—which, so far as I could learn, pre- 
 vailed in the Boston market, at the time of con- 
 structing it. Perfect accuracy | do not indeed 
 suppose I have attained; but I have spared no 
 pains to be as accurate as possible, especially in all 
 the more essential and important points. It may 
 seem odd to many, to find some articles, as mo- 
 lasses or eggs, for example, estimated by the pound, 
 but the nature of the case required it. 
 
352 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 The first column, with a very few exceptions, 
 consists of articles which pertain to a system of 
 plain living. The second, with the like exception 
 of a few articles which are common to both sys- 
 tems, consists of articles which belong more pecu- 
 liarly to the tables of the flesh-eating and the 
 fashionable. 
 
 Cts. per |b. Cts. per Ib. 
 Unbolted wheat meal, 5 Chicken,’ . . 20 to 25 
 Wheat flour, 5 Turkey, iy... 20.10 25 
 Rice, . : dS Butter,.... . 220 to.25 
 Buckwheat Gour, : 6 EPPS sc. expen ea VAD 
 Oat meal, 6 Cheese, y...0,.. te dee 
 Peas, 6 Beef, ... . IRteds 
 Beans, ; 6 Lamb,” 7258 54 ge eee 
 Wheat daknnay 53 Pork ..: 2. SAL ioe 
 Indian hommony, 4 Hay j,0,s<ssijy ocd 00k 
 Indian meal, 3 SMUSATE, Vie ss phe 
 Rye meal, 3 Lard Se ae ee) eee 
 Corn, best, 24 Geese, He IV, De 
 Sweet potatoes, . . 3 Veahbo.s.. 2st. oe 
 wt fABIONBya col dy boeice Be aces Fish, fresh, (00 34 5. 0G 
 
 Betta) sa go ew ee Fish, dried, 5 <5. 4 
 CRETE cap bis nal x ee Honey, Dest! See 
 
 ‘Common potatoes, . 1 Loaf sugar, .°. . 18 
 Apples, . . . 14 to3 Maple sugar, . . 12%} 
 Pears,;; ...»,... lg4o03 Brown sugar, . . 19 
 Cabbage, . . 14 to3 Molassés, o> 64°. or 
 Squashes, . . 2 to3 Vinegar Yaa 2 
 
 Crackers, . . 10 to 124 Millkses: ct dele caee 
 Sav, as)< uel Syepheennee 
 Tapioca and maccaroni,124 
 Atrow-rcot, oe ee 
 
EXPENSE OF FOOD COMPARED. O08 
 
 Now if we take ten, fifteen, or twenty of the 
 more prominent articles of each of the preceding - 
 lists, and compare their cost, we shall find that the 
 average expense of any given quantity of those on 
 the left hand is less than one fourth as much as 
 that of those on the right hand. For example, 
 one pound each of the best wheat flour, rice, beans, 
 Indian corn, Indian hommony, Indian meal, rye 
 flour, potatoes, beets, turnips, cabbage and apples— 
 twelve articles—will not cost over forty cents ; 
 while one pound of each of the following twelve 
 articles—chicken, turkey, butter, eggs, cheese, beef, 
 lamb, pork, ham, sausage, lard and fish—will cost 
 one dollar and seventy-five cents, or considerably 
 more than four times as much. 
 
 I have placed sugar, molasses, and some other 
 articles in very general use among all classes of the 
 community, and which are comparatively expen- 
 sive, at the foot of the right hand column; but 
 then it will also be observed, that I have placed 
 arrow-root, tapioca, maccaroni, &c., which are also 
 costly, on the other side. 
 
 If it should be said that families do not use 
 these things, in anything like equal proportion— 
 which is undoubtedly true—still the remark is as 
 applicable to the articles of one column as to those 
 of the other. For example, if it is said that the 
 
 principles of my estimates: involve the idea that a 
 23 
 
304 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. ha 
 
 family uses a pound of butter or turkey, as often 
 as a pound of beef or pork, it might also be re- 
 plied, that on the other hand, one pound of beans 
 and one of rice, at five or six cents a pound, are 
 supposed to be used as often as a pound of pota- 
 toes at one cent, or of Indian meal at three. 
 
 If it should be objected to this mode of compari- 
 son, that there’ are no families to be found who 
 confine themselves wholly to the articles in the 
 right hand. column of the table, and that in so far 
 as they use an admixture of the others, the com- 
 parative difference in the expense of the two 
 modes of living would be greatly diminished, I 
 grant the premises, but do not admit the conclu- 
 sion. For as the flesh-eating part of the commu- 
 nity do actually eat more or less of vegetable food, 
 so the vegetable eaters do, in some instances, use— 
 and in pretty large quantities, too—many of the 
 more costly articles which I have here assigned 
 to the right hand column; such as sugar, and 
 honey, and butter, and even lard. Besides, there 
 are other costly items of table expenditure which 
 usually accompany the use of flesh, but which do 
 not belong at all to a vegetable course, and which | 
 I believe are usually rejected; viz. tea and coffee, 
 and the more costly spices, and sauces, and pre» 
 serves. One gentleman with a family of fourteen 
 or fifteen persons, told me his tea and coffee bill— 
 
EXPENSE OF FOOD COMPARED. 355 
 
 including the milk, sugar, &c., used with then— 
 was not less than one hundred dollars a year. I 
 do not know the exact cost of such things to fami- 
 lies ; but I know it must be considerable. I can- 
 not doubt, therefore, that the actual expense of the 
 uncooked materials—for I have as yet gone no far- 
 ther in this chapter than to compare what may be > 
 regarded as raw materials—for living on a rational 
 vegetable system, is diminished, or might be dimin- 
 ished, at the rate which appears on the face of the 
 table ; that is, three fourths. 
 
 A single example may make this perfectly plain. 
 Five hundred and fifty pounds of Indian meal will 
 make seven hundred and thirty of Indian cake, of 
 medium dryness. ‘This, at two pounds a day, 
 which is quite as much nutriment as the most 
 healthy, hard laboring person ought to receive, 
 would last him about a year; and two thousand 
 two hundred pounds of the same meal would be 
 sufficient for an ordinary family of five persons—or 
 even six—including a husband, a wife, and sev- 
 eral children. But the expense—for the material 
 merely—would be for the individual only sixteen 
 dollars and fifty cents, and for the family, only 
 sixty-six dollars a year. 
 
 But how far would sixteen dollars and fifty: 
 cents, laid out, say in beef—by no means the most 
 expensive article of family use—go towards sus- 
 
396 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 taining a person a year? Why, it would not buy, 
 at the utmost, but about one hundred and twenty 
 pounds of beef. ‘This would give less than one 
 third of a pound a day, for the year; or, as Indian 
 cake is fully twice as nutritious as the average of 
 beef, only one twelfth the nutriment which the 
 vegetable eater would obtain from his five hundred 
 and fifty pounds of meal. 
 
 Wheat flour, it is true, and perhaps rice, and 
 one or two other articles, cost a little more than 
 Indian meal in proportion to the amount of nutr- 
 ment they afford, but then, on the other hand, 
 potatoes, apples, &c., cost somewhat less ; so that 
 I think Indian meal and beef may fairly be set off, 
 the one against the other. 
 
 And as to the cookery, it will not probably be 
 doubted by any that the preparation of flesh and 
 fish, together with that of pastry, which in its nu- 
 merous forms is usually an accompaniment, is much 
 the most expensive. It would be so, independent 
 of the seasonings, and sauces, and gravies, which 
 are reckoned indispensable. And if.it should be 
 said, that people eat more—that is, a greater 
 amount of nutriment—who confine themselves to 
 vegetable food, than they do who use.a portion of 
 flesh meat, the statement, though true, might be met 
 by another, which is, that vegetable food seems to 
 be, for the most part, not only improved but in- 
 
# 
 v 
 
 EXPENSE OF FOOD COMPARED. 3857 
 
 creased in quantity by cookery, whereas animal 
 food of almost every description sustains a slight 
 loss by the cooking processes. Thus, as in the 
 cases above, one pound of Indian meal will make 
 a pound and a third of good bread or cake; and 
 two hundred pounds of wheat meal, or flour, will 
 make, as [ have said elsewhere, about two hundred 
 and seventy-five pounds of good bread. Nor does 
 the difference consist wholly in the addition of 
 water to the meal, for two hundred and seventy- 
 five pounds of bread are believed to contain much 
 more nutriment than two hundred pounds of flour, 
 were the latter equally palatable and digestible ; 
 and the same thing is probably true, at least in a 
 measure, of all other bread stuffs—and even of 
 peas, beans, &c. 
 
 The following table exhibits the increase, in 
 weight, of several common articles during the pro- 
 cess of cookery ; though it does not, of course, de- 
 termine the increase of nutriment : 
 
 100 lbs. wheat flour make about 135 Ibs. of bread. 
 100 “* Indian meal “ ae 125 to 144 *“ se 
 100 “ hommony “ ¢ 333 to 400 * 
 
 100 “ rice ee . 250 to 300 *¢ 
 
 100 “ peas f ef 175 to 200 
 
 100 “ beans 6 « 175 to 200 * 
 
 I have adverted to the difference in the ex- 
 pense of cooking the two great classes of articles 
 
308 _ THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 ‘which are presented in our first table; but the 
 nature of the subject requires a few more particu- 
 lar remarks. If the vegetable-eater chooses to do 
 it, he may spend as much time in cooking his 
 favorite articles as the flesh-eater; but not without 
 causing a proportionate deterioration in the quality, 
 if not loss of quantity. An equal degree of per- 
 fection in the preparation of the two classes of 
 nutrient substances demands far more labor where 
 a mixed diet is used, than when we confine our- 
 selves, exclusively, either to animal or vegetable 
 food. A diet exclusively animal would be pre- 
 pared with comparative ease ; but one exclusively 
 vegetable, much more easily and cheaply still. 
 There is, however, another important view of 
 the case, in making a comparison. Vegetable 
 food, in nearly all its simpler forms, can be pre- 
 served much longer in perfection after it is cooked, 
 than animal food. This susceptibility of long 
 preservation is generally in proportion to its sim- 
 plicity. Thus, boiled corn, or rice, or baked un- 
 leavened cakes, (whether of one kind of material 
 or another,) may be preserved, with a little care, 
 for a long tume. But when to the corn you add 
 salt or butter, to the rice, salt, or any other condi- 
 ment, and to the bread, salt, milk and yeast, it is 
 rendered somewhat more liable to decay ; though 
 even in these latter conditions, food may be pre- 
 
EXPENSE OF FOOD COMPARED. 359 
 
 served for a long time. Peas, beans, potatoes, 
 beets, turnips, &c., plainly cooked, may even be 
 preserved for some time, in the hottest weather ; 
 though in cool weather much longer, without dete- 
 rioration. But it is not so, in general, with animal 
 food or mixed dishes. With most of these there 
 is a much more rapid tendency to decay ; and 
 many of them cannot be preserved, in perfection, 
 at all.—tI might have said, for it is true, that some 
 vegetable substances actually improve, both in taste 
 and quality, by keeping; for example, bread, rice, 
 hommony, &c. They not only, for some time, 
 become more and more savory to the correct ap- 
 petite, but by becoming more and more solid, they 
 require a greater amount and degree of mastication. 
 
 Do you ask what advantages are gained to 
 the vegetable-eater by a knowledge of the last 
 mentioned fact? But is it possible they can be 
 mistaken? Is it of no consequence, in point of 
 econoniy, either of fuel or time, that we can bake 
 bread enough at once to last ten, twelve or fifteen 
 days ; that we can prepare unleavened cakes, rice, 
 hommony or mush enough, at once, to last eight 
 or ten days, and peas, beans, potatoes and other 
 vegetables enough to last three, four or seven days? 
 According to the modern fashion of using mixed 
 dishes, requiring eight, ten, twelve or twenty of 
 them at the same meal, and requiring them hot, 
 
360 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 and this repeated three times a day, it comes to 
 pass, that not only one or two artictes, but nearly 
 every article on the table, except perhaps bread, 
 must be cooked for each particular meal. Even 
 bread which is not hot from the oven, unless heated 
 anew by toasting, will go down most throats with 
 very great difficulty. . This constantly repeated 
 process of boiling, broiling, steaming, steeping, 
 soaking, warming, roasting and toasting, repeated 
 at. almost every meal—to say nothing of preparing 
 tea, coffee, chocolate, shells, gravies, sauces, and 
 half a dozen other abominations which need not 
 be named—consumes an amount of valuable time, 
 to say nothing of the loss to the vital powers, 
 both of the cook and those who partake, from the 
 unnecessary external and internal heat, which is 
 immense—but which a rational vegetable system 
 would almost entirely prevent or save. But 1 
 have dwelt on this, at sufficient length, in other 
 places. 
 
 I have one more table to construct before [ 
 leave the economical part of my subject. Let us 
 suppose the five hundred. and fifty pounds of Indian 
 meal, to an individual, for one year, to be the 
 standard—I mean for an adult—and two thousand 
 two hundred pounds to be that of a family. I 
 believe this to be a most liberal allowance, but I 
 intend it shall be so. ‘The expense of this, at two 
 
EXPENSE OF FOOD COMPARED. 361. 
 
 and a half cents a pound, which is as high as it 
 ought to be computed, would be, for a family of 
 five persons, only fifty-five dollars. But as corn 
 can generally, in ordinary times, be purchased for 
 a dollar a bushel, by those who are disposed to lay 
 in a stock for their families, the expense might be 
 reduced in that way, to little more than forty-five 
 dollars. However, to be liberal, I am willing to 
 set the actual expense to such a family, for this 
 material, at fifty-two dollars a year—or one dollar 
 a week for the whole family. No family of*five 
 persons can require more. This, let it not be 
 forgotten, is about two pounds of good, substantial 
 Indian cake or bread to the adult individual, daily. 
 
 Let us now see how many ounces of some other 
 materials the same expenditure of a dollar a week 
 would give to an adult individual daily, estimating 
 his wants at one fourth of the family. 
 
 VEGETABLE FOOD. ANIMAL Foon. 
 OZ, OZ. 
 Of peas, beans, buckwheat Chicken and turkey, say 22 
 Meatsec.anour) . ). OR Bags Oe wo ee 
 Rice and wheat hommony,10} Beef, .... . . 4% 
 Wheat neal, flour, &c., 114 Lamb,pork,ham,sausage,4% 
 Sweet potatoes, rye meal, BAe PUPS ge ka ee 
 Beaenieord.. IO) IME 
 Common potatoes, . . 544 
 Beets, turnips,&c., . . 38 
 
 Apples, squashes, &c.,28 to 30 
 Honey and loafsugar, . 3} 
 
362 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 Thus we see how small an amount of beef, lamb, 
 pork, sausage, chicken and turkey, can be bought 
 daily, for a sum that would be sufficient to supply 
 a person liberally with good and nutritious vegeta- 
 ble food. But as most of these vegetable articles 
 are about twice as nutritious as animal food; we 
 need another table still, constructed from the last. 
 For as animal food—eges, perhaps, excepted— 
 contains only about half as much nutriment as good 
 vegetable food, the true comparison would be more 
 nearly as follows : 
 
 Peas, beans, &c., about . 9$ Chicken and turkey, about 14 
 Rice and wheat hommony,J0$} Eggs,. ..... . Ij 
 Wheat meal, flour, &c., 114. Beef, . 00 172-2. ae 
 Indian meal, &c., .. . 19 Lamb, pork, &c.,. . . 2% 
 Potatoes, 1h one <,: itysalc DER Fagin, ieee a eae 
 
 Every one will now see the true difference 
 between vegetable and animal food, so far as ex- 
 pense is concerned. For no one will suppose that 
 a daily amount of chicken or turkey, which, in 
 point of nutrition, will be only equal to one ounce 
 and three tenths of good vegetable food, will sustain 
 a person—whereas fifty-four and a half ounces 
 of potatoes will do so; and so will the amount 
 given in the table of either of the other articles. 
 Some may suppose that even this amount is rather 
 stinted ; but they forget the increase, in weight, by 
 
EXPENSE OF FOOD COMPARED. 363 
 
 cookery. ‘Thus, the nme and a half ounces of 
 peas and beans above, would be, by cookery, in- 
 creased to a pound or more; the wheat meal or 
 flour to about a pound; the rice to considerably 
 more than a pound and a half; the Indian meal to 
 twenty-seven or twenty-eight ounces ;—the pota- 
 toes remaining in weight and bulk about the same. 
 The animal food, as we have before seen, is dimin- 
 ished rather than increased in weight, by cookery. 
 If the question arises here—and it is a very 
 natural one—how it happens that people who use 
 a given amount of animal food at a meal, say five 
 ounces, are better satisfied with it than they would 
 be with the same quantity of vegetable food, con- 
 taining twice as much nutriment, the answer is 
 easy, and though given elsewhere, may be briefly 
 repeated. 1. The nervous excitement induced by 
 the more stimulating animal food, is mistaken for 
 strength, while the milder vegetable food usually 
 produces no such immediate sensible changes. — 2. 
 The animal food is, in its own nature, more cloying 
 than the vegetable. 3. It is still more so, in con- 
 sequence of the things usually conjoined with it, 
 either in the form of gravy, butter, sauce or condi- 
 ment. 4. These conjoined or adjunct substances 
 are also heating and exciting, and give a temporary 
 but deceptive strength. 5. The individual who eats 
 his five ounces of meat, seldom fails to eat a good 
 
364 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 deal of other food. True, he does not eat so 
 much else of any one dish as the vegetable eater 
 often does. He who eats a whole dinner, or nearly 
 a whole dinner, of a single article—as bread, rice, 
 beans or potatoes—will often be set down as a 
 large eater, when he has actually eaten less, in 
 weight, even of vegetable food, than the eater of 
 flesh meat; for the latter is apt to eat a portion 
 of this dish and a portion of that, from half a dozen 
 or a dozen dishes 3 and so the amount he consumes 
 appears less than it actually is. It is not indeed 
 to be denied, that the vegetable-eater usually has 
 the better appetite ; and as his food is less cloying, 
 he is often in great danger of over-eating ; still, 
 it is believed that he does not so much exceed the 
 flesh eater, in this respect, as is sometimes imag- 
 ined; and he never feels, like him, a desire for 
 something between meals, or for exciting drinks. 
 
 I have known many a family of from two or 
 three to five or six persons, where the htsband 
 and wife were accustomed to toil like slaves from 
 day-light till bed-time, to clothe, and shelter, and 
 sustain themselves and their children, in what they 
 deemed a decent style, to the neglect not only 
 of all recreations and all social visits for conversa- 
 tion, but even of personal comfort and health ; 
 when all the while they could have earned enough 
 in three quarters of the time’ which they devoted 
 
EXPENSE OF FOOD COMPARED. 365 
 
 to labor, to sustain them in princely style, did they 
 only understand the true philosophy of living, and 
 had they but moral courage enough to practice 
 according to their knowledge. I have known 
 others who, reduced to poverty by sickness, ren- 
 dered themselves a thousand times-more wretched 
 than was necessary, simply for want of the same 
 knowledge and courage; and who, when pointed 
 to a better course, only made light of the counsel 
 afforded them. 
 
 I was once called to visit a patient in one of our 
 populous cities, in a low state of health, to whom I 
 found, on examination, that exercise in a carriage 
 was indispensable. But after proposing and urging 
 it, his wife told me very frankly, that they had 
 spent all their living on physicians, and their cir- 
 cumstances did not admit of the expense. I 
 reminded her that there was an omnibus passing the 
 door every hour, that would carry the patient two 
 or three miles on a quiet road, for twelve and a half 
 cents. But I found from farther conversation, that 
 even this was believed to be quite beyond their 
 means. , 
 
 And yet I saw there, gingerbread and fine flour 
 bread, hot from the bakers, and fine cuts of flesh 
 meat from the shambles, and a variety of other 
 articles of doubtful utility, to say nothing of some 
 which were rather more than doubtful. This 
 
066 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 family, though it would be deemed frugal, at pres- 
 ent, by the mass of mankind, might save, by 
 retrenchment in things which do not at all contri- 
 bute to their happiness—such as coffee, tea, and 
 other hot drinks, sugar, molasses, butter, cheese, 
 pastry, spices, &c., enough and more than enough, 
 every day, to carry the sick man out of town in 
 the omnibus, and return him again. And in the 
 simplicity of my heart I told them so. 
 
 But what will be the consequence? Why, they 
 partly believed me, as I suppose; and perhaps 
 thought for the moment to profit from my remarks. 
 The husband has a perfect appetite, and is willing 
 to live in any way I propose ; and the wife, at the 
 moment, thinks she is. Yet when she comes to 
 act, she will probably act about as she always has 
 done. It is extremely difficult for house-keepers 
 to make changes which even their consciences 
 approve ; so powerful is custom. There must 
 be just about so many dishes at table, and they 
 must occupy such and such places ; and they must 
 be thus or so filled; for if not, the house-keeper 
 feels as if she were lost; and if she is one of the 
 company, perhaps loses her appetite. 
 
 Mrs. sets out her breakfast table, with 
 coffee, sugar, cream, butter, cheese, hot bread, 
 toast, crackers, bread, pies, hash, pitcher, water 
 and tumblers. Now if you could convince “her 
 
 
 
EXPENSE OF FOOD COMPARED. 367 
 
 most fully, that bread, crackers and water were 
 sufficient, and that such a breakfast would afford 
 much more, even of animal enjoyment, than her for- 
 mer collection—I say if her mind were most fully 
 convinced of all this, she would find it extremely 
 difficult to begin. She would feel as if there were 
 nothing on the table, if there were no other articles 
 of food but bread and crackers. She would be: 
 miserable herself in thinkme how miserable others. 
 must be in the practice of so much simplicity. 
 
 I left the house of my friend and patient with 
 a very heavy heart. It is no easy matter to 
 make up one’s mind to see a'young man of thirty: 
 years of age, given up to a lingering death, without 
 an effort to save him, because that effort will cost 
 twenty-five cents a day ; when, too, the twenty-five 
 cents may be secured with the utmost ease by a 
 little useful retrenchment. But is it an uncommon 
 case? I thik hundreds and thousands of cases 
 of this description, that is, substantially such, might 
 be found in society daily. People will destroy 
 life, and health, and peace, and piety, for the sake 
 of following old customs and habits ; and then after 
 all, contrive to throw the blame on a system of 
 things formed by the great Creator. 
 
 I hope the time will soon arrive—the glad time 
 for man’s whole nature, physical and moral—when, 
 in full view of the fact, that fifty-two dollars and 
 
368 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 one or two hours of female labor every day, will 
 supply any healthy family of two adults and two 
 or three children a whole year, with the best and 
 ‘most agreeable food, and in the richest abundance, 
 it will not be common to see such families misera- 
 . ble—not only really miserable now, but dyimg a 
 thousand deaths in fearmg one—though annually 
 expending for food, two or three hundred dollars. 
 Nothing is more common—I repeat it—than to 
 see great want, both imaginary and real, in a 
 family, while a sum is expended on food, and 
 without any supposed waste, which would amply 
 and liberally supply with rich, nutritious and agree- 
 able food, at least four just such families. 
 
CHAPTER XLVIII. . 
 
 HOW TO BEGIN THE WORK OF REFORMATION. 
 
 First principle. Sudden changes. First direction to inqui- 
 rers. Difficulties in their way. These difficulties illus- 
 trated. None need fear to do what is known to be right. 
 Anecdote. Supposed process of reform in house-keeping. 
 Remarks and reflections. 
 
 I raxe for granted the great principle that we 
 may learn to relish, and even to prefer, those kinds 
 of food which we believe to be best for us. In 
 treating of manners and morals, a distinguished 
 writer has told us to fix on such a course of con- 
 duct as we know to be best for us, and custom 
 or habit will soon make it agreeable. And the 
 principle is as applicable to dietetics as to manners 
 or morals. 
 
 But the question arises in the minds of indi- 
 viduals, and is often asked—Are sudden changes 
 desirable, or should reform be gradual? The 
 principle involved in the answer to the question, 
 whether it be asked with reference to the duty of 
 
 individuals or families, is the same. Much, in 
 24 
 
370 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 both cases, will depend on previous habits, and on 
 
 “present light and knowledge; and more still, on 
 the depth of our conviction of the necessity of 
 change. 
 
 My first direction to inquiring individuals or 
 families is—Do that which you know to be right ; 
 and then, on the same great principle which is 
 applied. to religious matters, “he that doeth the 
 truth cometh to the light.’ And not only do 
 that which you know you ought, but do it imme- 
 diately. ‘There is seldom any danger in acting up 
 to the dictates of our consciences. | 
 
 The great difficulty with most imnquirers in die- 
 tetics is, that they are not more than half convinced 
 of the necessity of that reform of which they say 
 so. much. They have not faith enough. ‘They 
 go to work, indeed; but they are not decided. 
 They have many misgivings, and some fears. And 
 the reason is, they are not fully convinced. 
 
 A house-keeper has heard, perhaps, from some- 
 body in whose general veracity she can confide, 
 that hot newly baked bread is not so wholesome as 
 that which is a day or two old. Well, she partly 
 believes it. But as she knows not the reason why— 
 at least not fully—as it is a great self-denial to her 
 to relinquish hot bread, and as she feels the want 
 of her accustomed stimulus—the heat—when she 
 dispenses with it, she is undecided and doubtful. 
 
HOW TO BEGIN REFORMATION. 3711 
 
 She is afraid of the evils of sudden changes. 
 She hesitates. Appetite cries loudly against her. 
 Fashion bids her beware. She demurs. Finally 
 she makes some changes in her own habits, if not 
 in those of her household. She quits her tea. 
 Then her neighbors begin to tell her how pale she 
 looks, and increase her attention to herself and her 
 feelings ; and if she has no bad feelings, she fancies 
 she has, till they are at length induced. 'The fear 
 of evil of this sort, usually brings evil. She vacil- 
 lates and trembles, and perhaps goes back. 
 
 And as it is with individuals, so it is with fami- 
 lies. What is wanted is a thorough and abiding 
 conviction of the truth of principles; such a con- 
 viction as shall fasten on the conscience. 
 
 Mr. Johnson’s family consists of himself and 
 wife, four children, three of them quite young, a 
 domestic, and two friends of the family, who, for our 
 present purpose, may be considered as boarders. 
 
 One of the two friends, an aged maiden lady, 
 has caught, by some means, the true spirit of die- 
 tetic reform, and is not only fast reforming her own 
 habits, but is endeavoring, by her example, to re- 
 form those of the family. Not so much, it is true, 
 by frequent discussion of the subject, as by silent 
 example. 
 
 This example is differently construed. By Mr. 
 J., himself, it is interpreted correctly, and its reason- 
 
372 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 ableness has rendered him a convert to her system ; 
 and he is exceedingly anxious that his children 
 _ should be trained in the simplicity she inculcates. 
 But how can it be done? His wife has received a 
 different impression. She views the departures 
 of the old lady (whom I will call Mrs. R.) from 
 custom, as mere whims; nay, she feels inclined to 
 regard her simple selection of food and drink as a 
 reproach to herself, and is at times much pained on 
 account of it. ‘The domestic and the eldest daugh- 
 ter incline to the side of Mrs. J.; and the other 
 children are divided in feeling—now inclining to 
 follow the father, and now yielding to their way- 
 ward appetite and the example of their mother. 
 The younger boarder in the family seems also 
 undecided. 
 
 Mr. J., as [ have already intimated, is anxious’ 
 for reform, and endeavors, slowly and cautiously, to 
 effect it. Mrs. J. too, at times, seems almost won 
 by his representations. But look at Miss R., she 
 soon says. See her—a whimsical, sickly old maid; 
 do you think I am going to follow her notions? 
 Besides, if she has a better system than that which 
 now prevails, why does she not tell us what it is? 
 I have long sought to draw forth her sentiments, 
 but have hitherto been wholly unable. | 
 
 It was in vain to assure her that Miss R. had 
 been for twenty years, until recently, a poor sick 
 
HOW TO BEGIN REFORMATION. 873 
 
 creature ; and that two years of reformation, though 
 
 ‘it had not done everything for her, had already 
 done wonders, and promised to do much more ; 
 and that as to her silence, it was maintained from 
 pure principle, in the belief, whether right or wrong, 
 that example was far more efficacious.—It was in 
 vain, I say, for Mr. J. to urge all this, for Mrs. J. 
 either could not or would not understand it. 
 
 The result was, a perpetual want of harmony in 
 the plans and conduct of the family. Mrs. J., 
 though unconvinced, was somewhat anxious to 
 please Mr. J., and especially to comply with his 
 desire to live more economically ; and as it was 
 necessary to prepare plain food for Miss R. and for 
 her husband, she labored hard to conform the habits 
 of her children to the new standard. She labored 
 hard, I say ; but her labors were so inconsistent 
 and so vacillating, as to be worse than useless. 
 
 Nor were her efforts long continued. She soon 
 found, she said, that the new system was quite as 
 expensive as the old one; and as one of the chil- 
 dren happened at this time to be affected with 
 worms, it was attributed to the coarse food he ate. 
 She was sure it was the food, for on ransacking a 
 parcel of medical books, she found coarse vegeta- 
 bles, (that is, in the book language, crude ones,) in 
 excess, were set down as one of a thousand causes 
 of verminous diseases ; and therefore, no doubt, the 
 
374 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 bread, and rice, and pudding which Samuel had. 
 eaten within a week or two, were the sole cause 
 of all his troubles ! 
 
 And now commenced a scene which was as far 
 removed from true domestic reform as could well 
 be conceived. Plain vegetable food for Mr. J., 
 Miss R. and the children, was always prepared, 
 and in good condition. Of this, all ate freely 
 and sufficiently, except herself and the domestic. 
 When the repast was finished, and the company 
 dispersed, Mrs. J. had her beef-steak, or her but- 
 tered toast, or her richly prepared pies or cakes ; 
 and the stomachs of the children, though they had 
 already been more than filled, could sometimes 
 receive a little more. ‘The domestic, too, must | 
 have her supply of high-seasoned flesh, or fish, or 
 soup, or rich cake. 
 
 Nor was this all. Contrary to all reason and 
 sense, not only the domestic, but the lady herself 
 and her children, must all have a luncheon; and 
 that luncheon, for all but the younger children, 
 must embrace a few of the thousand and one costly 
 dishes without which life is deemed tame and 
 wretched. In short, four tables, three of them 
 with their various and often costly array, including 
 always strong coffee or tea, or both, must be set 
 for a family of only nine persons each forenoon ; 
 and nearly or quite as many every afternoon ; and 
 
HOW TO BEGIN REFORMATION. 3719 
 
 all this, and the waste which accompanied it—for 
 most of the remnants were given or thrown away— 
 was charged on poor Miss R., and her reformed 
 system. No wonder the vegetable system, and 
 Miss R. with it, fell into disrepute, and received a 
 thousand maledictions, as iniquitous and expensive, 
 when it was thus made a scape goat to carry off 
 the sins of the old system and the new, as well as 
 the mongrel system, which here grew out of both. 
 
 But how obvious that the vegetable system itself 
 was not in fault! How wrong to say, as Mrs. J. is 
 inclined to do, that it is a thousand times as en- 
 slaving to the mistress and domestics of a family as 
 the old one; and that though they neither bake 
 nor wash, it takes up all her own time, and that 
 of her domestic and elder daughter, to cook for 
 nine persons ! 
 
 Let us look at facts. Many a time do the 
 family—Mrs. J. and the domestic excepted—make 
 their three daily meals of good plain food, such as 
 bread of all the various kinds, rice, hommony, pud- 
 dings, potatoes, apples and milk, and molasses, at 
 an expense of only fifty cents a day, or three dol- 
 lars and a half a week, for the seven persons ; and 
 the female labor necessarily connected therewith 
 cannot possibly exceed two or three hours a day. 
 Nay, three hours a day of female labor, and four 
 
3716 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 dollars and a half a week, or two hundred and 
 thirty-four dollars a year, are amply sufficient to 
 feed in princely abundance such a family of nine 
 persons—six of them equal to adults, and three 
 children. I could prove this by citing numerous 
 cases of undeniable authenticity—with several of 
 which I have been myself intimately acquainted. 
 Bread, good bread, and milk, are, in cities, among 
 the more costly dishes of the rational sort; and 
 these, in reasonable quantity, do not cost an indi- 
 vidual more than seventy-five cents a week. 
 
 But when the vegetable system of living, or any 
 other system, falls ito bad hands, as it often does, 
 we have little else to expect, but what we see 
 verified and illustrated in the foregoing history. 
 Truth is destined, after all, to creep, ere it can 
 walk upright. 
 
 Now | do not advise any one to take a single 
 step in the work of reform in diet or house-keep- 
 ing, till thoroughly convinced of the importance 
 of that step. But when a house-keeper has an 
 abiding conviction of the importance of reform, 
 and has the approbation of the husband—which, 
 if she is sincere in her belief, and truly conscien 
 tious, she can usually obtain—let her go forward. 
 Let her not fear to do suddenly what she fully 
 believes she ought to do. And as for what she 
 
HOW TO BEGIN REFORMATION. O17 
 
 only half believes to be necessary, let that, for the - 
 present, be deferred. 
 
 Suppose a conviction that hot flour bread is in- 
 jurious. Let it be at once banished from the 
 table. Let bread be used which is either a day or 
 two old, or is coarse. Bread made of coarse, un- 
 bolted meal is less injurious, taken hot, than fine 
 flour bread. 
 
 A family commencing thus will perhaps have no 
 idea of going any farther at first. But presently 
 the judicious and thinking house-keeper, with the 
 consent and encouragement of her husband, dis- 
 covering as she has the evil of other hot things, 
 begins to omit them also, one by one. 
 
 First comes a quantity of hasty pudding, per- 
 haps, which is not smoking. ‘The younger mem- 
 bers of the family may wonder why—not being fully 
 in the secret. But it goes down. Next come 
 Indian cakes which are partly cold. These area 
 little doubtful to the family, at first ; but if well 
 made, and not at first too cold, will go down very 
 well. 
 
 In the mean time, a conviction has been fasten- 
 ing slowly upon the house-keeper’s mind, that hot 
 drinks are not beneficial. The conviction deepens. 
 The task of preparing them is quite laborious, and 
 she is willing to be freed from it. But can she use 
 cold water? And will her husband be comfortable 
 
3718 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 with it? She consults him. For the children she 
 has no fears ; for herself, few. She has faith, and 
 her faith is becoming strong. Her husband at 
 length seconds her. He believes. The array of 
 tea cups and coffee bowls, and pots and kettles, is 
 banished ; and the pitcher and tumblers are sub- 
 stituted. 
 
 Next, perhaps, comes up the subject of flesh- 
 eating. Is so much flesh and fish necessary? Do 
 my children and myself need meat twice a day, 
 and does my husband need it three times? On 
 reflection and consultation, meat is abandoned, 
 except at dinner. 
 
 . Thus the work of reform goes on. Not quite 
 so rapidly as the time passes while | am relating 
 it, to be sure; but something is gained every 
 month. And what is of more importance, the 
 conviction of the necessity of reform is deepening 
 and strengthening, at every step, in what arithme- 
 ticians would call geometrical progression. 
 
 The banishment of all hot and_ stimulating 
 drinks, of a part of our meat, and of hot bread 
 and puddings, will make the heat and unnatural 
 stimulus of many things that remain, stand out in 
 bolder relief. The propriety of these will now 
 begin to be doubted. Pepper, and spice, and 
 vinegar, and mustard, and ketchup, and cinnamon, 
 and the whole tribe of crude, acrid and aromatic 
 
HOW TO BEGIN REFORMATION. 319 
 
 substances, pickles, perhaps, not excepted, one 
 after another, is dropped, and the quantity of salt 
 which had been used is much diminished. 
 
 And now come the greasy substances. Fat 
 meat is first rejected ; next, the suet of puddings ; 
 next, gravies; next, the melted butter, as it is 
 called, for fish; and next, perhaps, butter itself. 
 After these, buttered pancakes or fritters, whether 
 of wheat, Indian or buckwheat, wafiles, &c. So 
 strongly interwoven in our very natures, however, 
 is the use of butter, that we generally cling to that 
 as with a dying grasp. And consequently, it is one 
 of the last things which even an enlightened and 
 conscientious house-keeper will venture to banish, 
 But go it must, and will, finally. 
 
 By this time, all meat will become doubtful, and 
 will be abandoned—and perhaps cheese; and milk 
 and all other liquid foods will be used sparingly. 
 Mixed dishes will begin at length to be proscribed. 
 Sausages are already abandoned ; but mince pies, 
 hash, seed cakes, plum puddings, plum cakes, and 
 all shortened pie crust, and semi-solid or watery 
 substances, soon follow in their tram! And as the 
 taste becomes simplified, the desire for drink, before 
 supposed to be natural, now gradually disappears. 
 The tumbler of water begins to stand untouched 
 till we have done eating, before it is drank off. 
 At last, the fashion of not drinking so far prevails, 
 
300 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 that no drinking vessels are introduced to the table. 
 Finally, the variety at the same meal begins to 
 diminish. Instead of several courses of food, one 
 begins to suffice; and instead of a dozen articles 
 in this one course, half a dozen and ultimately 
 two or three, or perhaps one, begins to be used. 
 And instead of hot things, those are preferred 
 which are temperate; and instead of swallowing 
 them just from the oven, the pot or the kettle, 
 they are required to have suitable age. And 
 instead of having everything as soft as pap, the 
 house-keeper at length learns to have everything, — 
 though well cooked, in a condition to require ‘a 
 good deal of mastication. 
 
 There is, however, one little piece of advice 
 which I would urge upon all persons who are 
 resolved on the work of dietetic reform. It is, 
 never to use food which is more highly concen- 
 trated or more highly seasoned, when that which 
 is less so will satisfy you. ‘Thus, if you can relish 
 and enjoy an article without molasses or sugar, eat 
 itso. When you have once added the molasses, 
 you cannot expect it any longer to relish without 
 it; nor will anything else which is plain relish at 
 the same meal. But he who begins a meal of 
 plain food without seasonings, will find, after a few 
 mouthfuls, that uncloying sweetness which he will 
 in vain look for anywhere, after he has spoiled the 
 
HOW TO BEGIN REFORMATION. ool 
 
 keen edge of his appetite by concentrated or over 
 seasoned dishes. 
 
 Indeed, to secure the highest amount of gusta- 
 tory enjoyment, during a whole life, eat always 
 the mildest, simplest food, with which you can feel 
 at all satisfied. What you gain, in enjoyment, by 
 the use of concentrations or condiments to-day, 
 you more than lose in the end, by the effect it has 
 to blunt or benumb the keenness of sensibility in 
 the organs of taste, smell, &c. 
 
 I have not intended, by the remarks of the last 
 paragraphs, to prescribe a course for any individual 
 to pursue; but only to say that this is something 
 like one course among thousands, which might be 
 pursued by a truly awakened house-keeper, who 
 is anxious to reform herself and her family. It 
 may take years—perhaps six, or eight, or ten of 
 them, to complete the work ; but if the true spirit 
 of reform—the determination to do what it is 
 known ought to be done—has really possessed the 
 mind of a house-keeper—if, in one word, she is a 
 real christian—and if she. has the right sort of a 
 husband, she will never again slumber or sleep till 
 she rises above doubtful ground, and finds all her 
 household in the use of such things as she believes 
 are best for them. 
 
 To such a house-keeper as I have all along 
 been supposing—one who is awake, and has 
 
B82 - THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 caught the desire for improvement—and to such 
 an one alone, will the chapters of this volume be 
 of much value. ‘l’o those who are inquiring, and 
 who are determined to think for themselves on this 
 as well as on all other subjects, I flatter myself I 
 have rendered some service; but to those who 
 wish me to prescribe for them a certain routine, 
 which they are too indolent or too indifferent to find 
 for themselves, or to vary from, when found, to 
 meet existing changes of circumstances, this book 
 will probably be nearly useless. 
 
 Such persons as I have last described—those 
 who demand details instead of principles—would 
 like very well to read a book which should tell 
 them precisely what to eat, and how much, and 
 what to get for others. They would gladly know 
 what I eat, and how and why I eat it. Now I 
 should have no objection to giving such informa- 
 tion in its proper place, and time, and manner— 
 not, however, for any other person to follow exactly. 
 But the rational house-keeper does not demand it. 
 She is satisfied with principles, suitably illustrated. 
 
 I think it probable, however, that some house- 
 keepers, when they read the present and foregoing 
 chapters, will be led to exclaim—such things have 
 been said—‘* Why, in this way you would reform 
 us out of everything ; you leave us nothing. This 
 coming down to plain bread and potatoes, or 
 
HOW TO BEGIN REFORMATION. 383 
 
 scarcely anything but bread and potatoes, cannot 
 be required of us. There is a sort of coarseness, 
 we might say baldness, about it, to which we are 
 sure he who placed us in a world of variety never 
 meant to compel us. We cannot go with you, 
 even if our households would.” 
 
 This objection is often made by Ee ene ; 
 ‘whether with a view to suppress the truth and 
 apologize for their pampered appetites, I will not 
 undertake to say. But I will say, that more hus- 
 bands and fathers are, in general, ready for reform, 
 than mothers and house-keepers. Perhaps the 
 reason is, that more of the latter were brought up 
 in band-boxes, cradled on down, and fed on pap, 
 than of the former. It must not be withheld, 
 however, that when a female has once imbibed the 
 true spirit of reform, she makes a better missionary 
 in the family and neighborhood, than an individual 
 of the other sex. So that there is still room for 
 much hope. 
 
 But let us see how much truth there is in the 
 common charge, that we would compel people to 
 live on bread and water, or bread and potatoes ; 
 and thus deprive them of the good things God has 
 given us. 
 
 From farinaceous substances and fruits men- 
 tioned in the foregoing chapters, may be collected 
 the following list of simple articles of food, which 
 
& 
 
 304 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 are very far from being: prohibited :—viz., loaf 
 bread of wheat meal, unleavened or wafer cakes, 
 brown bread, crackers, loaf rye bread, loaf Indian 
 bread, Indian cake, hulled corn, parched corn, 
 hommony, wheat mush, rye mush, potatoes, apples, 
 pears, peaches, apricots, potatoe bread, apple bread, 
 rice, rice bread, bread pudding, sago pudding, 
 tapioca pudding, arrow-root pudding, plain ginger- 
 bread, plain toast, milk, gruel, beans, peas, ches- 
 nuts, figs, sweet potatoes, beets, turnips, parsnips, 
 carrots, squashes, pumpkins, melons, cabbages, 
 strawberries, raspberries, blackberries, whortleber- 
 ries, gooseberries, grapes, cherries, and the various 
 kinds of plums. 
 
 In view of this list, of over fifty articles, that do 
 not come under the ban of proscription, will it still 
 be said that my plan reduces people to mere bread 
 and water, or to roots and water, as some will have 
 it? Surely not. 
 
 But this is not all, properly spitcinl I have 
 here mentioned only six or seven kinds of loaf 
 bread ; viz., bread of unbolted wheat meal, rye 
 bread, brown bread, Indian bread, potatoe bread, 
 apple bread and rice bread ; whereas, there are a 
 great many other varieties of wheat as well as 
 Indian and rye bread, which are alluded to in this 
 work as comparatively excellent; and a great 
 many mixtures and combinations of wheat, rye, 
 
HOW TO BEGIN REFORMATION. 3085 
 
 Indian, and other bread-stuffs, which are not men- 
 tioned, but whose excellence must be obvious. 
 So that if any one were disposed to eat but a single 
 article at the same meal, and partake of three 
 meals a day, he might have a different dish at each 
 meal for about three weeks in summer, and for 
 about two in winter. 
 
 But when we come to combine two articles, the 
 variety is very greatly increased. ‘Take milk, for 
 example—and by combining the foregoing sub- 
 stances with it, (for they are nearly two thirds 
 of them agreeable to most persons when com- 
 bined,) you have a list of thirty-five more new 
 dishes. By their combination—to some extent— 
 with gruel, you have perhaps twenty more. 
 
 Again, the combination of each particular sort 
 of bread and of cold mush, corn, rice, &c., with 
 nearly every kind of fruit, would result in at least 
 three hundred more of what I should call new 
 dishes. ‘Thus as*often as you can join a particular 
 fruit to loaf bread, you form a new dish, as apples 
 and bread, figs and bread, strawberries and_ bread, 
 &c. Every one may compute for herself; but I 
 judge there would be in this way over three hun- 
 dred new dishes. 
 
 But this is not all. The various kinds of bread 
 and other solid substances may be combined with 
 
 each other to form another large list of new dishes. 
 25 
 
386 - THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 Thus, bread and potatoes, Indian cake and pota- 
 toes, bread and turnips, bread and beets, bread 
 pudding and squashes, &c., form very happy com- 
 binations, especially when one which is highly 
 nutritious, as rice or beans, is coupled with one 
 which is rather wanting in nutriment, as turnips, 
 potatoes, &c.; and one which requires little masti- 
 cation, as rice or turnips, with one which requires 
 a great deal of it, as wafer cakes, or ship bread, or 
 crackers. I think that in this way we should form 
 another list of about one hundred more new dishes. 
 
 But once more. If we admit molasses or sugar, 
 which in small quantity are not deemed very ob- 
 jectionable, the combination of one of these with 
 some twenty or nearly twenty of the list of simple 
 articles, would add so many more new dishes. 
 The admittance of cheese as a condiment, or a 
 little fresh butter to be spread on the drier articles 
 of food, would add to the catalogue in the same 
 manner. — : 
 
 Thus, as we see, by combining two articles— 
 and only two—at the same meal, and without the 
 admission of more than two or three objectionable 
 things—the molasses, the honey and the cheese— 
 we have a list of above five hundred various 
 dishes. If we even throw aside the objectionable 
 articles just mentioned, the number. would be 
 nearly five hundred. Let it be remembered, I 
 
HOW TO BEGIN REFORMATION. oot 
 
 repeat it, that we have all this either from single 
 allowable articles, or from the combination of only 
 two of these articles. When we combine three 
 of these simples, and ring as many changes on these 
 as we can, the variety is almost endless. 
 
 Dr. Cheyne, who commended a course of living, 
 similar to that which I recommend, more than a 
 century ago, insisted that a vegetable diet involved 
 as great a varvety of dishes as a mixed one. 
 
 When the charge was brought to him of want 
 of variety in the vegetable system, he very proba- 
 bly replied to it in the following manner, as in 
 another part of this volume. It is not for you, he 
 would naturally say, to talk to others about want 
 of variety in their diet. You are the persons— 
 and not the vegetable eaters—against whom such 
 a charge can best be sustained.. How few of your 
 meals do not savor of butter, and salt, and pepper? 
 Is not your table perpetually set out with these, 
 or with dishes in which they are incorporated, and 
 with an array of tea or coffee cups, and tumblers ? 
 The truth is, that you have no real variety at all. 
 There are certain things which are always at your 
 tables, let what will come; and without these 
 things forever there to give savor and odor, you 
 would be miserable. It is the vegetable eater 
 who enjoys nature’s genuine variety, and not you. 
 Now—to-day—I have, for my breakfast, a rich 
 
3888 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 bowl of rye bread and milk; at dinner I shall 
 have, perhaps, a fine dish of pea soup; at supper, 
 some rice, pure and white as the driven snow, and 
 unmixed with any condiment. ‘To-morrow, for 
 breakfast, some hommony and apples; at dinner, 
 a platter of dry mealy potatoes; at supper, some 
 wafer cakes, light, and dry, and wholesome. ‘The 
 third day, for breakfast, wheat meal bread, toasted, 
 with a bowl of strawberries; for dinner, a sago 
 pudding ; for supper, stale, but sweet flour bread. 
 The fourth day, for breakfast, sweet potatoes and 
 brown bread toasted, or rather dried ; for dinner, 
 corn bread ; for supper, wheat and Indian bread ;— 
 and soon. Here are a dozen meals—of the best 
 and richest food, and yet an entire variety ; and the 
 bill of fare might be much extended without mar- 
 ring its simplicity. But if milk were to accom- 
 pany every meal, or at least be incorporated, in 
 greater or less quantity, with every dish, or if there 
 were any other sort of things or condiments which 
 must grace the table at every one of my meals, 
 be present what else may, there would be no per- 
 fect or complete variety—there would be, on the 
 contrary, so far as these ever present articles of 
 food or furniture are concerned, a tiresome mo- 
 notony. 
 
 Thus, I say, might Dr. C. return the charge 
 which is forever made in these days, and probably 
 
HOW TO BEGIN REFORMATION. 389 
 
 was in his—and with good reason and truth. 
 Nothing is plainer than that there is no such thing 
 known as true variety at meals, in fashionable life. 
 All is monotony—the monotony of spicy, salted or 
 greasy mixtures. 
 
 And as to drinks, in the case of those who, 
 though they are willing to relinquish tea and coffee, 
 are determined to drink something or other which 
 is hot, we leave them chocolate, cocoa, (or shells,) 
 corn coffee, bread coffee, wheat coffee, rye coffee, 
 chesnut coffee, and a multitude of other drinks 
 of the same general class. Multitudes, when they 
 first began to abandon narcotic drink, have sub- 
 stituted, for a time, simple warm water, with milk 
 and sugar in it; and after continuing this awhile, 
 have proceeded to cool milk and water, sweetened 
 water, &c. 
 
 Let us then hear no more of the nakedness or 
 baldness of the vegetable system; of the want 
 of variety which it involves, and of our slighting 
 the good gifts of God; especially from those who, 
 by making everything smell or taste of pepper, 
 butter, vinegar, salt, &c., reduce all things to a 
 strange sameness—and who, by cooking everything 
 in such a way as to destroy its natural taste, if not its 
 natural properties, do in reality set aside nearly all 
 
 . the Creator’s gifts, to substitute inventions of their 
 
390 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 own, and introduce thereby ten thousand forms 
 of disease, from simple flatulence and heart-burn to 
 consumption and cholera, and cause ten thousand 
 premature deaths for one which is according to 
 nature or the intentions of nature’s God. 
 
CHAPTER XLIX. 
 
 RECIPES FOR PLAIN COOKING. 
 
 Various kinds of bread. Puddings. Cakes. Rice. Corn 
 and hommony. Porridge. Pies. Jellies, &c. Yeast. 
 Beans and peas. Potatoes. Various articles. 
 
 Ir now remains for me to present a chapter of 
 the most approved recipes, for the benefit of those 
 who wish to have their practice a little in advance 
 of their knowledge. The better way, however, 
 is, for every house-keeper to originate her own 
 recipes. Indeed, it is not amiss to say, that many 
 of the following were originated by the various 
 house-keepers to whom I am indebted for them. 
 And, according to a favorite saying, what has 
 been done can be done again. All that is needed 
 for the purpose, is an abundance of plain, good 
 sense, and a love for the profession. 
 
 My plan has been to present a variety of the 
 recipes—some more, others less simple. The 
 reader will of course be able to make a selection, 
 adapted to her own stage of progress. I hope 
 
 the list will be found sufficiently extended and 
 
392 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 complete. I might have added several hundred 
 others, but I was unwilling to devote more space to 
 matter of so little comparative importance. 
 
 VARIOUS KINDS OF BREAD. 
 
 UnzsotteD Wueat Meat Breapv.—For the 
 sponge, take one quart of water blood warm, or 
 about 100° F’., add one tea spoonful of salt, stir in 
 coarse wheat meal till it becomes a thick batter, 
 then if it is kept at about a temperature of 80 or 
 90°, it will ferment sufficiently in from four to six 
 hours ; or if prepared in the evening, let it remain 
 at about 60° till next morning ; then add two or 
 three quarts of warm water, with a suitable propor- 
 tion of the wheat meal; mould it, and put it into 
 pans; and in about one hour it will rise sufficiently 
 for the oven. In this way, with proper care and 
 experience, the best of bread may be made, without 
 any pearlash, yeast, molasses or milk. Some use a 
 little saleratus, to prevent all acidity in the bread, 
 but that can be avoided by having the dough in the 
 oven before the fermentation proceeds too far. 
 
 Another.—Pour warm water with the. yeast 
 into the meal, and make a thick batter ; let it rise ; 
 then stir in more meal; knead it, and put it into 
 pans ; let it rise again, and then bake it. 
 
RECIPES FOR PLAIN COOKING. 393 
 
 Another.—The meal, together with a suitable 
 quantity of yeast to ferment—should be moulded 
 up thin and put into the baking pans immediately, 
 in about one half the quantity you expect the 
 size of the loaf after being baked. As soon as it 
 
 is in the pans, put it in a place of moderate heat, 
 and let it stand undisturbed until fermented (raised) 
 sufficiently to bake; then put it into an oven of 
 rather more intense heat than would be necessary 
 to bake superfine flour bread. Miserable bread is 
 often made from the best of wheat meal ; and it is 
 because it is raised, and then moulded and baked 
 in an oven without sufficient heat. Moulding after 
 raising spoils it.—Unbolted flour should never be 
 sifted to make good bread ; it spoils it. 
 
 Another.—Three quarts of wheat meal, one 
 large tea cup of yeast, one large tea cup of brown 
 sugar or molasses, one table spoonful of salt, and one 
 tea spoonful of saleratus.. Knead it very thoroughly, 
 and bake it in small loaves. 
 
 Wuear anv Inp1an.—To twelve quarts of un- 
 bolted wheat meal, coarsely ground, put in three 
 quarts of Indian meal, scalded, and mix it well with 
 the wheat meal ; add half a pint of yeast ; mix and 
 knead it thoroughly ; let it rise ; then, with buta little 
 kneading, and a little dry flour, put it in pans for the 
 
394 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 oven. Be careful to put it in the oven as soon as 
 it rises, as it becomes acid sooner than other flour. 
 If a little potatoe be added, it gives it additional 
 sweetness and richness.x—Make it in the same way 
 without Indian meal. 
 
 Brown Breap.—Ssix quarts of meal will make 
 two good sized loaves of brown bread. Some like 
 it half Indian and half rye meal; others prefer it 
 one third Indian and two thirds rye. Many mix 
 their brown bread the night before they bake it, 
 but this is unnecessary ; and it is more likely to 
 sour—particularly in summer. If you mix it the 
 night before, you must not put in more than half 
 the yeast I am about to mention, unless the weather 
 is intensely cold. 
 
 The meal should be sifted separately. Put the 
 Indian in your bread pan, sprinkle a little salt into 
 it, and wet it thoroughly with scalding water. Stir 
 it while you are scalding it. Be sure and have 
 hot water enough ; for Indian absorbs a great deal 
 of water. When it is cool, pour in your rye; add 
 two gills of lively yeast, and mix it with water as 
 stiff as you can knead it. Let it stand an hour 
 and a half, in a cool place in summer, and on the 
 hearth in winter. It should be put into a very 
 hot oven, and baked three or four hours. It is 
 much better for remaining in the oven over night. 
 
RECIPES FOR PLAIN COOKING. 395 
 
 Rice Breapv.—Boil a pint of rice soft; add a 
 pint of yeast and three quarts of rice flour; put it 
 in a tin or earthen vessel until it has risen suffi- 
 ciently ; divide it into three parts; then bake 
 it as other bread, and you will have three large 
 loaves. 
 
 Four anp Ricr.—Boil a pound of rice in water 
 till quite tender; pour off the water, and add the 
 rice, before it is cold, to six pounds of flour. Add the 
 usual quantity of yeast, a little more than the usual 
 quantity of salt, and as much lukewarm water 
 (taking the water the rice was boiled in) as will 
 make it into dough. It will require the same time 
 to rise as rice bread, and is baked in the same 
 way. 
 
 Puaty Corn Breap.—Six pints of meal, one 
 table spoonful of salt, four pints of water, thor- 
 oughly mixed with the hand, and baked in oblong 
 rolls about two inches thick. Use as much dough 
 for one roll as can be conveniently shaped in the 
 hand. Many persons use hot water; in winter it 
 is certainly best. ‘The bread is better to be made 
 half an hour or more before it is baked. The 
 oven must be tolerably hot when the dough is put 
 in. All kinds of corn bread require a hotter oven, 
 and to be baked quicker than flour bread. 
 
396 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 Licut Corn Breap.—Stir four pints of meal ° 
 mto three pints of tepid water; add one large 
 tea spoonful of salt; let it rise five or six hours ; 
 then stir it up with the hand and bake it, in a brisk 
 oven. Another method is, to make mush, and 
 before it grows cold, stir in half a pint of meal. 
 Let it rise, and then bake it as the first. 
 
 Cuape Breap.—Mix well some oat meal and 
 water, of about the same consistence as common 
 dough ; then roll it into cakes as thin as possible ; 
 bake them on a stone or iron plate of a moderate 
 heat over the fire; when baked on both sides, set 
 them on one edge before the fire till perfectly dry. 
 This bread will continue good many weeks, if kept 
 in a dry place. 
 
 Appte Breap.—A very light, pleasant bread 
 is made in France, of a mixture of apples, (when 
 pared, cored and baked, or stewed with a very 
 little water,) and flour, in the proportion of one 
 part of apples to two of flour, employing the usual 
 quantity of purified yeast, which must be beat up 
 in the flour with the warm pulp of the apples. The 
 sponge may then be considered set. Let it rise 
 eight or ten hours, then make it up, and bake it 
 in long loaves like rolls. Little or no water is 
 necessary. 
 
RECIPES FOR PLAIN COOKING. ‘397 
 
 Potator Breap.—To fourteen pounds of good 
 sound flour, either coarse or fine, take five pounds 
 of potatoes, pared and washed very clean; boil 
 them in a proper quantity of water till quite soft ; 
 mash them, and rub them through a wire sieve into 
 the middle of the flour, adding water sufficient to 
 make’ it of a proper heat, and some salt; when 
 well mixed, add a due proportion of yeast; let it 
 rise an hour or more in the sponge; and then 
 knead it well. Let it stand to rise an hour or 
 longer, according to the quantity, and bake it in 
 the usual way. 
 
 PUDDINGS. 
 
 Hasty Puppine.—Mix five or six spoonfuls 
 of sifted meal in half a pint of cold water ; stir 
 it ito a quart of water while boiling; season it 
 with salt to your taste; and from time to time 
 sprinkle in dry meal, stirrmg it thoroughly. It 
 should boil half or.three quarters of an hour. It may 
 be eaten in various ways, but is best alone, or with 
 milk. Indian meal or rye may be used. It should 
 not be made thick ; let the boiling thicken it 
 
 Same Puppinc.—Boil the samp well till dry, 
 add milk, a little sweetening, and a quantity of 
 sweet apples sliced thinly ; let it be well baked 
 
398 - THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 Newty Inventep Puppine.—Take some good 
 sweet apples; wash and core, but do not pare 
 them ; chop them about as fine as cranberries, put 
 them in a kettle, and put in just enough of good 
 milk to cover them, and if you choose, add a little 
 salt—some even add a little cinnamon or ginger. 
 Next, proceed to scald them, but without burning 
 them, and while scalding them, stir in fine Indian 
 meal enough to form the milk into a thin batter ; 
 then put the mass into a deep pan, set it into an 
 oven or stove, well heated, and bake it about six 
 hours. 
 
 Puain Inp1an Puppine.—One quart of Indian 
 meal, one pint of boiling water, one tea cup of 
 molasses, and a little salt. Boil it four hours. 
 
 Another.—Boil one quart of milk ; while boiling 
 pour it upon one tea cup full of Indian meal; mix 
 it well, add molasses to your taste, and bake it 
 three hours at least, with a strong heat. 
 
 Boitep Inp1an Puppine.—Boil one quart of 
 milk ; stir in, while hot, one pint of Indian meal, 
 or enough to make it a thin mush; have ready a 
 handful of dried, sweet apple, swelled and scalded 
 in a little water ; add a little salt, spice and butter ; 
 put it into a pan, and boil it five or six hours. 
 
 & 
 
RECIPES FOR PLAIN COOKING. 399 
 
 Another—Take three pints of Indian meal, 
 scalded in boiling water, and made thin ; boil it six 
 hours. 
 
 Baxep Inp1an Puppine.—One quart of milk, 
 one pint of water, and one pint of Indian meal. 
 Add salt, molasses, &c., to suit the taste. 
 
 Another.—Scald two quarts of skimmed milk ; 
 stir in one pint of Indian meal, or enough to make 
 a thin mush; add a little salt, a tea cup full of 
 molasses, a little cinnamon, or any spice you like. 
 Bake three hours. » 
 
 Hommony Puppine.—Take one quart of milk, 
 half a pint of Indian meal; stir them well together ; 
 then add one pint and a half of cooked hommony. 
 Bake it in a moderate oven. 
 
 Sweet AppLte Puppine.—One pint of scalding 
 milk, half a pint of Indian meal, six sweet apples, 
 cut in small pieces; add a little salt, and bake it 
 three hours. 
 
 Common Rice Puppine.—Wash and pick half 
 a pound of rice very clean, put it in a dish with 
 two quarts of milk, with or without sugar. Bake 
 it in a moderate oven. 
 
 ° 
 
> 
 
 400 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 Rice Puppine, wire AppLes.—Boil six ounces 
 of rice in a pint of milk till it is soft, then fill a 
 dish about half full of apples pared and cored ; 
 sweeten ; put the rice over them as a crust, and 
 
 bake it. 
 
 Rice Puppine.—To one quart of good milk, 
 add one tea cup full of rice, sweetened, well 
 baked, with no eggs, butter or spices. It may be 
 eaten with good molasses or sugar, or is good with- 
 out either. 
 
 Another.—One quart of milk, a tea cup half full 
 of rice; four or five pleasant sour apples, a little 
 salt, and sweeten to your taste. Bake it one hour. 
 
 Boitep Ricz Puppine.—Boil one half pound 
 of rice in a small quantity of water; when tender, 
 add one coffee cup of milk, with a table spoonful 
 of sugar and salt ; simmer or bake half an hour. 
 Breap Puppine.—Slice bread thinly, and put 
 it in milk, with a little sweetening ; add a little 
 flour, and bake one hour and a half. The milk 
 may be cold for all these puddings, when mixed. 
 
 Another.—Take a loaf of white bread, cut a 
 hole in the bottom, add as much new milk as it 
 will soak up; tie it in a cloth, and boil it an hour. 
 
 a 
 
RECIPES FOR PLAIN COOKING. AOl 
 
 Another.—Take three pints of milk, one pound 
 of baker’s bread, four large spoonfuls of sugar, 
 and three of molasses ; put in a layer of bread cut 
 thin, then a few raisins, then bread, &c.; pour 
 on the milk and sweetening. If baked one hour 
 and a half, it is sufficient. If boiled, two or three 
 hours. Boil it in a tin pudding boiler. 
 
 Cracker Puppine.—To one quart of milk, 
 add four thick crackers, made of coarse wheat, and 
 broken in pieces, a little sugar and a little flour, 
 and bake it one hour and a half. 
 
 Fiour Puppine.—Take mush made of the 
 coarse flour, and put in milk; mix it well, and add 
 sweetening ; bake it slightly. 
 
 Porator Puppine.—T wo pounds of potatoes 
 boiled and mashed, one pound of wheat meal and 
 a little salt; mix well together into a stiff paste ; 
 tie it in a wet cloth, dusted with flour. Boil it two 
 hours. 
 
 Appte Puppine.—Take unbolted wheat meal, 
 wét. it with buttermilk to a sufficient stiffness to 
 roll out; take a tin pudding boiler, put in a layer 
 of crust and a layer of apple till it is filled. 
 
 Boil it three hours. 
 26 
 
402 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER.  . 
 
 Tapioca Puppine.—Take one coffee cup full 
 of tapioca to one quart of milk ; boil half the milk 
 and pour it on the tapioca; let it stand half an 
 hour ; then add the remainder of the milk. Sweeten 
 it to your taste, and it is ready for baking. 
 
 Sago pudding is made in a similar manner. 
 
 CAKES. 
 
 Puain Inpian Caxe.—One quart of Indian 
 meal, a little salt, one pint of water; bake it thin. 
 
 The same proportions. mixed and let» stand 
 twenty-four or forty-eight hours, and baked thick, 
 will be light. 
 
 Inpian on “ Jounny ” Caxe.—Take one pound 
 of Indian meal and one pint of water. Roll it 
 out thin, and bake it dry. 
 
 Another.—Take yellow Indian meal, wet it 
 with good milk, sweeten it, and add a little pul- 
 verized potatoe. Raise it with yeast, and bake it 
 thoroughly, in small round pans, indenting it deeply 
 as you would cut the cake when done. It should 
 be eaten cold | 
 
 Another.—Two cups of Indian meal, one table 
 spoonful of molasses, two cups of milk, a little 
 
 j 
 
 
 
_ RECIPES FOR PLAIN COOKING. 403 
 
 salt, a handful of flour, mixed up thin, and poured 
 into a buttered bake-kettle, hung over the fire, 
 uncovered, until you can bear your finger upon it, 
 and then set down before the fire. Bake it half an 
 hour. aay i 
 
 Another.—One pint of sour milk, three cups of 
 meal, one cup of flour, four table spoonfuls of mo- 
 lasses, one tea spoonful of saleratus, and a little 
 salt.—Indian cake may be made of water instead 
 of milk, but it requires about half a cup more of 
 Indian meal. 
 
 Inp1an Sponce Caxe.—Take three cups of 
 Indian meal, three cups of milk, and one cup of 
 flour. It should be mixed one day previous to 
 baking, that it may have time to rise. 
 
 Rice anv Iypray Caxe.—Boil half a pound of 
 rice in two quarts of water, until it is quite soft; 
 and while boiling hot, add enough of Indian meal 
 to make it sufficiently stiff to form into cakes. Put 
 it into a shallow tin pan, and bake it before the fire. 
 It may be made an inch in thickness, or thinner, as 
 may be fancied. ‘The cakes should be made from 
 ten to twelve hours before they are baked, as they 
 are much sweeter for being mixed so long before- 
 
 hand. 
 
404 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 Unsotrep Wueat Meat Caxe.—Knead the: 
 unbolted wheat flour with cold water, stiff enough 
 to roll on a tin sheet, then prick it, and bake it in 
 any way most convenient. It does very well baked . 
 before the fire, and made about the thickness of an 
 unleavened cracker. A little scalded Indian meal 
 might, by some, be thought to be an improvement, 
 as a substitute for shortening. 
 
 Wueat Caxe.—Take three pints of wheat 
 meal, one pint and a half of buttermilk, and a tea 
 spoonful of saleratus. Roll and cut it into round 
 cakes, and then bake them by a quick fire. 
 
 Pxatn Caxe.—One cup of molasses, one cup of | 
 good milk or cream, half a tea spoonful of pearlash, 
 and coarse wheaten meal to make a soft paste. 
 
 Cup Caxse.—T wo cups of cream or milk, two 
 of sugar, two of unbolted wheat meal, one of rice 
 flour, and a tea spoonful of salt. Beat it thoroughly, 
 put it into cups, and bake it half an hour. 
 
 Breap Caxe.—One cup of cream, two cups’ 
 of sugar, three cups of risen bread, (dough,) one 
 eg, half a pound of raisins, stoned and chopped, a. 
 little saleratus ; mix it well together; if too soft, add 
 
 a little flour, and bake it about an hour and a half. | 
 
RECIPES FOR PLAIN COOKING. 405 
 
 Rice Jounny Caxe.—To three spoonfuls of 
 soft boiled rice add a tea cup full of water or milk ; 
 then add six spoonfuls of flour, and a little salt. 
 
 Baked as johnny cake. 
 
 Imiration Buckwueat Caxe.—Scald a tea 
 cup full of ground rice in water enough to make a 
 batter. When cool enough for yeast, stir in two 
 tea cups full of unbolted wheat meal, a little yeast 
 and salt, and let it rise. Bake it in thin cakes, on 
 a griddle. " 
 
 Loar Caxe.—Take one cup of milk, one cup 
 of cream, one cup of sugar, one tea spoonful of 
 saleratus, one egg, some cinnamon, nutmeg and cur- 
 rants, and make a thick batter of the best unbolted 
 wheat flour. Bake in an oven, not too quick, but 
 hot enough to raise it without burning. 
 
 Grauam Warers.—Take one quart of wheat 
 meal, one half pint of Indian meal, and a little 
 salt. Mix them with water, roll them out thin, 
 and bake them very hard. Add a little sugar, if 
 you choose. , 
 
 Biscuirs.—A_ pound and a half of flour made 
 wet with equal quantities of milk and water mod- 
 erately warm, made stiff, and rolled out very thin ; 
 
406 . THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 cut them to any size you please, prick them, and 
 bake them in a moderate oven, on a tin. No flour 
 to be put on the tins or biscuits. . 
 
 Sweet Cracxers.—One tea cup of coarse 
 wheaten meal, one of sour milk or buttermilk, 
 three fourths of a tea cup of sugar, half a tea 
 spoonful of pearlash ; made hard, rolled thin, and 
 well baked. 
 
 Warer Cracxrrs.—Wheat meal, wet with 
 nothing but water, and pulled apart with the hand, 
 or cut in pieces and rolled as thin as possible, and 
 well baked. 
 
 RICE. 
 
 SteamMeD Rice.—Wash your rice well, rubbing 
 it through three or four waters, put it into boiling 
 water, with salt, let it boil twelve minutes only ; 
 then drain off the water, uncover the vessel, place 
 it before the fire, minding to turn it round often, 
 till the moisture has all evaporated. ‘The rice will 
 then be whole, dry and tender, with the additional 
 benefit of being much better for the stomach than 
 when reduced to a pulp in water. 
 
 Bortep Ricr.—In its common form, is picked - 
 and washed, and soaked an hour or two in water 
 
RECIPES FOR PLAIN COOKING. 407 
 
 enough to cover it; slowly boiled in the same 
 water until it becomes quite soft ; a little salt added. 
 It is often boiled in milk instead of water. A tea 
 cup full will make nearly a quart of pudding. To 
 have the kernels remain whole, put the rice into 
 boiling water. 
 
 Another.—Boil one quart of water, then put in 
 a coffee cup full of rice ; let it boil eleven minutes ; 
 then pour off the water and cover it so as to retain 
 the steam ; then let it stand two hours on a warm 
 
 hearth. 
 
 Another.—To one pint of rice add three pints 
 of water; as soon as it boils, stir in a little salt, 
 and boil it slowly. 
 
 CORN AND HOMMONY. 
 
 Bomrp Corn.—Take two quarts of corn, put 
 it into three quarts of boiling water; let it soak 
 over night ; in the morning, change the water ; and 
 when it has boiled six hours, take it out and rub it 
 well in a number of waters, till it is thoroughly 
 clean; then boil it till the hulls are soft. The 
 hulls will not all come off, but they will be boiled 
 sufficient for eating. | 
 
408 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 Huttep Corn.—Take four ounces of potash 
 and two quarts of water, and boil them; then put in 
 six quarts of corn, and boil it one hour, and stir it 
 well while boiling. ‘Take out the corn and wash 
 it thoroughly till the potash is all out of the corn ; 
 then put in fresh water and boil it till it is tender. 
 
 Botting Hommony.—To two quarts of hom- 
 mony pour four quarts of water, stir it up well that 
 the hulls may rise; then pour off the water through 
 a sieve in order to separate the hulls. ‘Turn the 
 same water again into the hommony, stir it well, 
 and pour it off again in the same way several 
 times. Pour back the water, add a little salt, and, 
 if necessary, a little more water, and hang it over a 
 slow fire to boil. It will need stirring often, if not 
 constantly, during the first hour. Let it boil from 
 three to six hours. 
 
 Another.—Hommony should be soaked over 
 night, and boiled in the same water, as much of its 
 sweetness is Jost by changing the water. Soft 
 water is best to boil hommony, as well as for beans, 
 peas, and for everything else that requires boiling 
 three or four hours. Hommony should be kept 
 boiling, but slowly, to prevent scorching ; also 
 avoid too much water, as this is apt to make it 
 tasteless ; but if done with just water enough, the 
 true taste is preserved. 
 
RECIPES FOR PLAIN COOKING. 409 
 
 Beatinc Hommony.—Soak the hommony corn 
 ten minutes in boiling water; then take the corn 
 up and put it into the hommony mortar, and beat it 
 until the hulls are all separated from the corn. 
 Once or twice, while beating, take it out of the 
 mortar and fan it ; that is, throw it up on a tray or 
 bowl so as to allow the hulls to fly off. When 
 sufficiently beaten, fan it until all the hulls are out. 
 
 Preparing Hommony.—It must be thoroughly 
 washed in cold water, rubbing it with the hands ; 
 then wash in the same way in warm water, chang- 
 ing the water several times. Put it into a large 
 pot of cold water, and boil steadily eight or ten 
 hours, keeping it closely covered. Add hot water 
 frequently while boiling, otherwise the hommony 
 will burn and be dark colored. If it is put on the 
 first thing in the morning, and kept briskly boiling, 
 it will be ready for dinner at two o’clock. 
 
 But the usual mode is to boil hommony twice a 
 week, and put it into a wooden or stone vessel, 
 and set it in a cool place to prevent its becoming 
 musty. When wanted for use, take the quantity 
 necessary for breakfast or dinner ; let it become hot ; 
 put in the hommony and mash it well, adding 
 some salt; when well heated it is ready for the 
 table. 
 
f 
 
 410 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 PORRIDGE. 
 
 Rice Porrmwer.—To three quarts of boiling 
 water add one pint of rice and three of milk, when 
 over the fire, and scald it well. 
 
 Grounp Rice Porriner.—To three quarts 
 of water add one of milk, and a tea cup full of 
 ground rice, and boil it a few minutes. 
 
 Inpran Porripce.—Throw in a tea cup full 
 of rice into boiling water ; then stir in the meal as 
 you would for mush, but make it much thinner. 
 Boil it one hour, and add cold milk. 
 
 Cracxep Wueat Porriner.—To four quarts 
 of boiling water, stir in one quart of cracked wheat 
 with a handful of rice; when boiled twelve or 
 fifteen minutes, add milk to your taste. 
 
 Cracxep Wueat Musnu.—When the water is 
 boiling throw in the salt, stir in the cracked wheat, 
 and let it boil twelve or fifteen minutes. If boiled 
 as long as Indian, it tastes raw. 
 
 Inp1an Gruev.—Take one quart of boiling 
 water, two large spoonfuls of Indian meal, wet it 
 in cold water, then stir it into the boiling water, 
 and let it boil ten minutes, and it is fit for use. 
 
RECIPES FOR PLAIN COOKING. 411 
 
 Mitx Porriper.—Mix two table spoonfuls of 
 sifted flour in three or four of water; pour it into 
 a gill or more of boiling water, and stir it often 
 while it cooks, eight or ten minutes; then add a 
 pint of new milk, and let it boil up once. 
 
 PIES, JELLIES, &c. 
 
 Pompxin Piz.—To one quart of stewed and 
 strained pumpkin, add one quart of new milk, and 
 sweeten it to your taste. For the crust, take wheat 
 meal, wet with buttermilk to a sufficient stiffness to 
 roll out. Or for Indian meal crust, scald the meal ; 
 have it of a sufficient stiffness to roll out very thin. 
 Bake it in deep dishes. 
 
 Another.—Pare your pumpkin and grate it, 
 instead of stewing it. When grated, take about 
 half a pint to a quart of milk, three spoonfuls of 
 sugar, half a tea spoonful of salt; butter your 
 plate, sift on Indian meal sufficient for a crust, put 
 in your pie, and bake it an hour and a quarter. 
 
 Another.—Take a brown earthen pan, grease 
 it, and sift Indian meal over it about the thickness 
 of a quarter of an inch; prepare the pumpkin in 
 good milk and sweetening, add a little ground rice 
 instead of eggs, with a little ginger. Ground rice, 
 
412 . THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 squashes and sweet potatoes, may be made into pies 
 in the same way, and are superior to pumpkins. 
 
 SaquasH Pirs.—Boil and strain your squash in 
 the usual way. ‘To one pint of squash add one 
 quart of milk, five or six soft crackers, four large 
 spoonfuls of sugar, and a little’ salt. Make your 
 crust of Indian meal sifted over the dish dry, or 
 mixed with water and spread over thin, and baked. 
 
 Sweet Poraror Pies.—Take two pounds of 
 potatoes, boil them very soft, mash them, and 
 while lukewarm, add a quart of milk, a cup of 
 sugar, and one cracker. Strain it, and bake them 
 as you would squash pies. 
 
 Cusrarp Pies.—Take a coffee cup of ground 
 rice, wet it up with cold milk so as to have it free | 
 from lumps; add to this two quarts of boiling 
 milk, and Jet it continue to boil till the rice flour is 
 thoroughly swelled; then sweeten it with sugar, 
 and salt it to your taste. Bake the pies thoroughly 
 on plates, or in deep dishes, with a wheat meal 
 crust ; or as some prefer, take Indian meal, sift it 
 dry into suitable dishes—this will form a crust suf- 
 ficiently short, and avoid the objection which some 
 have to the use of buttermilk and saleratus. The 
 pies should be one day old before they are cut. 
 
 
 
RECIPES FOR PLAIN COOKING. 413 
 
 Appie Pirs.—Apple pies may be made simple, 
 palatable and healthy, by sifting coarse flour, and 
 taking hot, mealy potatoes, and rubbing them in 
 as you would butter. Then take pearlash and 
 sour milk, or water, and wet it, rolling the crust, 
 if you please, in fine flour, if you wish to give it a 
 whiteness. Prepare your apple without butter or 
 spice, with sweetening only. 
 
 AppLe Custarp.—Put one quart of grated 
 sweet apple into one quart of milk. Sweeten to 
 the taste ; put it into a crust, and bake it. 
 
 Temperance Mince Pres.—Take one quart 
 of good rye or wheat bread, after it is chopped 
 fine, and one quart of sour apples, chopped fine ; 
 add the juice of six lemons, two large spoonfuls of 
 ground cinnamon, a large tea spoonful of salt, a 
 pint of cream or milk, a pint of the best sugar- 
 bakers’ molasses, and a pint of washed raisins. 
 Grate in a lemon peel. Bake them one hour 
 
 Paste.—Take ten boiled potatoes, peel them 
 immediately, and roll them until they are as fine 
 as meal. Then add to them the same quantity of. 
 wheat meal; rub them thoroughly together, and 
 add a tea spoonful of salt. It will require very little 
 more moisture, which may be milk. 
 
414 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 Piz Crust.—One quart of fine flour, one pint 
 of Indian meal, one tea cup full of cream, and a 
 little saleratus and salt. Mix with sour milk. 
 
 Tapioca Jenty—Saco Jetuy.—These articles 
 need to be picked, washed and soaked four or five 
 hours, before they are cooked. Boil them slowly 
 in the same water, until the mass becomes entirely 
 glutinous. A common tea cup full in a quart of 
 water will form a thick jelly. Pearl sago is gene- 
 rally preferred, as the most delicate preparation. 
 
 Arrow-root JeLity.—Stir a table spoonful of 
 arrow-root powder into half a cup of water, pour it 
 into a pint of boiling water, and let it cook six or 
 eight minutes. Sweeten it to your taste. 
 
 Rice Jevty.—Boil a quarter of a pound of rice 
 flour with half a pound of loaf sugar, in a quart 
 of water, till the whole becomes a glutinous mass. 
 Then strain it, and let it cool. 
 
 Rice Custarps.—Take two quarts of milk, 
 and when boiling, sift in a coffee cup of ground 
 rice, taking care to stir it while sifting. Boil it a 
 few minutes, sweeten it with sugar, and bake it in 
 cups. Let it stand till it is cold, and it will make 
 a custard as good as any one need desire. 
 
 
 
RECIPES FOR PLAIN COOKING. 415 
 
 Buanc Mance.—Take four table spoonfuls of 
 arrow-root to one quart of milk. Wet the arrow- 
 root in a little of the milk, cold. Then boil the 
 remainder of the milk, and stir in the arrow-root 
 while it is boiling. Let it boil five or ten minutes, 
 stirring it constantly. Wet the moulds in cold 
 water, before pouring it into them. Let it remain 
 in them till cold, before turning it into your dishes. 
 
 Toast Wirnout Burrer.—Take milk and 
 thicken it with fine flour, add some salt, and pre- 
 pare your bread and dip it in the usual way. 
 Milk prepared in this way is an excellent substi- 
 tute for butter, to eat with fish or vegetables. 
 
 Syrup ror Preserves.—Take eight pounds 
 of molasses, (bright New Orleans, or sugar house,) 
 eight pounds of pure water, and one pound of 
 coarsely powdered charcoal. Boil for twenty min- 
 utes ; then strain it through a fine flannel, double; 
 put it again into the preserving pan, with the white 
 of anegg. Boil gently, till it forms a syrup of a 
 proper consistence, and then strain it again. 
 
 Bomine Eces.—Put the eggs in a pan of cold 
 water over the fire, and if permitted to boil one 
 minute, the eggs will be done as much as when 
 boiled three minutes in the usual way. 
 

 
 416 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 ~ 
 
 STEWED Prunes.—Stew them very gently, in 
 a small quantity of water, till the stones slip out. . 
 
 YEAST. 
 
 Common Yeast.—Put into one gallon of water 
 a double handful of hops; boil them fifteen or 
 twenty minutes, then strain off the water while it 
 is scalding hot ; stir in wheat flour or meal till it 
 becomes a thick batter, so that it will hardly pour ; 
 let it stand till it becomes about blood warm, then 
 add a pint of lively yeast, and stir it well; and 
 then Jet it stand in a place where it will be kept at 
 a temperature of about 70° F-., till it becomes per- 
 fectly light, whether more or less time is required ; 
 and then it is fit foruse. Or if it is desired to keep 
 a portion of it, let it stand several hours and 
 become cools and then put it into a clean jug and 
 cork it tight, and place it in the cellar where it 
 will keep cool ; and it may be preserved good ten 
 or twelve days, and even longer. 
 
 " 
 
 Minx Yerast.—Take a quart of milk cosh ill 
 from the cow, (more or less according to the quan- 
 tity of bread desired’)—a little salt is generally 
 added, and some add about half a pint of water 
 blood warm, but this is not essential; then stir 
 wheat flour or meal into the milk, till it forms a 
 
RECIPES FOR PLAIN COOKING. A17 
 
 moderately thick batter; and then cover it over, 
 and place it where it will remain at a temperature 
 of from 60 to 70° F., till it becomes perfectly 
 light. It should be used immediately ; but let it 
 be remembered that dough made with this yeast, 
 will sour sooner than that made with other yeast. 
 When a small quantity only is made, it will often 
 be ready for use in an hour. ‘Twice as much 
 of this as of common yeast is necessary to raise 
 
 bread. 
 
 Potator Yrasr.—Potatoes make very good 
 yeast. Mash three large potatoes fine ; pour a pint 
 of boiling water over them; when almost cold, stir 
 in two spoonfuls of flour, two of molasses, and a 
 cup of good yeast. ‘This yeast should be used 
 while new. 
 
 BEANS AND PEAS. 
 
 Baxep Beans.—They should be soaked over 
 night. In the morning, turn off the water and put 
 them into fresh, hang them over the fire, and while 
 softening, the water should be changed at least 
 twice. When placed in the pots for baking, 
 sprinkle on a little salt, and fill them with boiling 
 water. ‘The same course, respecting changing the 
 
 water, should be pursued while stewing the beans. 
 27 
 
418 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. | 
 
 Peas should be prepared in the same manner as 
 beans, but they need not bake as long ; three hours 
 is sufficient. | 
 
 Dry Pras.—Obtain the kind that are of a 
 green color, soak them during the night in water 
 with a little saleratus in it. Boil them until they 
 begin to soften, then change the water, and con- 
 tinue the boiling until they are perfectly soft. Add 
 a little salt, and they make a very fine dish. ‘The 
 split pea, when the kind can be obtained that will 
 cook, prepared in the same manner, makes a most 
 excellent soup. 
 
 Bone Peas.—Shell them as clean as poss 
 ble, that” they may not require washing. Boil 
 them with a little salt in a very little water. Be 
 careful not to over-boil them, as it destroys the 
 flavor. When they are boiled enough, drain them 
 through a sieve, but not very dry. 
 
 * 
 
 
 
 Pea Sour.—For a soup, the peas should ie 
 
 boiled in soft water till they begin to be soft 
 
 then change the water; and: when well cooked, a 
 
 little coarse flour may be added as thickening. In 
 
 all modes of cooking peas and beans, they should 
 be prepared without meat or butter. 
 
RECIPES FOR PLAIN COOKING. 419 
 
 Green Beans.—lf they are boiled by steam, 
 they should be boiled from one hour and a half to 
 two hours, according to the age of the beans. 
 
 POTATOES. 
 
 Roasrine Porarors.—They should be washed 
 clean and well dried, before they are put into the 
 oven, or before the fire. If they are large, they 
 will take two hours to roast ; and they should be all 
 of a size, or they will not be done alike. 
 
 Boitep Porarors.—Pare and wash the pota- 
 toes very clean; put them into a pan with cold 
 water, just sufficient to cover them, adding a little 
 
 salt; let them boil very gently, and when boiled 
 enough, or before they break, drain the water from 
 them as dry as possible ; sprinkle in a little salt, 
 and hold them over the fire to dry, shaking the 
 pan now and then, till the potatoes look dry and 
 mealy. 
 
 _ Another.—They should be of equal size, or the 
 small ones will be too much done, before the large 
 ‘ones are done enough; do not pare or cut them ; 
 have so large a sauce-pan that your potatoes will 
 only half fill it, and put in cold water sufficient to 
 cover them about an inch, so that if it waste in 
 
420 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 boiling, they may still be covered : but too srih 
 water would injure them. Put the sauce-pan on 
 the fire, if it be a moderate one, and as soon as 
 the water boils, set it on one side, to simmer slowly 
 till the potatoes will admit a fork—the cracking 
 of the skin being too uncertain a test to venture a 
 reliance upon. . Having tried them with a fork, if 
 they are tender, pour the water off, and place the 
 sauce-pan by the fire, take off the cover, and lay a 
 folded cloth or coarse flannel over the potatoes. 
 Middling sized potatoes will be boiled enough in 
 twenty minutes. 
 
 Some people, (and I have been told it is prac- 
 tised generally in lreland,) when they have poured 
 off the water, lay the potatoes in a coarse cloth, 
 sprinkle salt over, and cover: them up, for a few 
 minutes, then squeeze them hghtly, one by one, in 
 the folds of a dry cloth, peel and serve them. 
 
 Another.—Take care that your kettle is clean. 
 Partly pare your potatoes, and place them in your 
 kettle when the water boils, As soon as they 
 sufficiently cooked, pour off the water and 
 them steam at least five minutes. 
 
 
 
 Another—Peel your potatoes and put them 
 into boiling water, and let them boil briskly, with- 
 out stopping, until nearly done, or just enough to 
 
 z 
 
y 
 RECIPES FOR PLAIN COOKING. 421 
 
 have a fork go into them with difficulty ; then 
 drain off the water and cover them; then hang 
 them over the fire from five to ten minutes. Re- 
 move the cover for the steam to escape, a few 
 minutes. 
 
 Steaming Porarors.—When potatoes are 
 washed clean, put them in your steamer over 
 boiling water, and keep it boiling from forty to 
 sixty minutes, according to the size of the potatoes ; 
 watch them, and as soon as they are soft, (which 
 you will know by trying them with a fork,) take 
 them out and peel them. If they remain longer 
 they will be soaked. If you boil them in water, 
 have it boiling, and keep it so from twenty to forty 
 minutes, and take them out as soon as they are 
 done ; they are spoiled,:to remain in water when 
 done ; peel them immediately. 
 
 Porator Sxow.—The potatoes must be free 
 from spots, and the whitest you can get; put them 
 n in cold water, with some salt in it, and Jet them 
 @::..: very slowly ; when they begin to break, 
 drain the water well from them, and dry them 
 exceedingly well, till they fall to pieces; rub them 
 through a wire sieve as quickly as possible, on the 
 dish they are to be placed in, and do not disturb 
 them afterwards. 
 
422 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 VARIOUS ARTICLES. 
 
 Bomine Cappace.—Halve, or if large, quarter 
 the cabbages; boil them quickly in plenty of 
 water, with a little salt. When half done, drain 
 them, and put them into fresh boiling water. 
 When boiled enough, drain and press all the 
 water from them. 
 
 Caspace orn Greens.—Put them into a large 
 quantity of boiling water, with some salt, and a 
 little saleratus. Boil them very fast, with the 
 cover off, and do not let them stop boiling. Take 
 them up as soon as done. 
 
 Cooxing Pompxry.—Cut your pumpkin in 
 halves, scrape and clear out the seeds and pulp, 
 and leave the rind on. Bake it three or four 
 hours, with a strong heat. 
 
 It is very good stewed. For this purpose, peel 
 it, cut it up, and put it into a pot covered close, 
 with a very little water, just enough to keep up ‘o 
 
 ¢ 
 
 steam, and steam it three or four hours. 
 
 SquasH.—Squashes should be boiled’ an hour 
 and a half, in winter. When well cooked, the 
 water should be pressed out; or what is better, 
 boil it till the water has evaporated, 
 
RECIPES FOR PLAIN COOKING. 423. 
 
 Bomine Beets.—Let the root be well washed, 
 and boiled in a moderate quantity of water—put- 
 ting it into the water when cold. A large beet. 
 will require boiling an hour and a half. 
 
 Another.—Beets, when washed and cleansed, 
 without breaking the skin, should be put into the: 
 water when it is boiling, and should be kept boil- 
 ing from one to two hours, according to the size. 
 Take them out when done, (which you will find 
 out by trying them with a fork,)—rub the skin off 
 with your hand. 
 
 Bomine Turnies.—They should be pared, 
 washed, and put into boiling water; and care 
 should be taken that they continue to boil till 
 they are sufficiently cooked. 
 
 If cooked by steam, (which is the best method,) 
 they will need cooking three quarters of an hour ; 
 and if large, a still longer time. 
 
 French turnips need to be sliced before boiling. 
 
 ee Pansyips anp Carrots.—Let them boil in 
 
 &..:; of water, with salt, till tender; then serve 
 them on a dish by themselves. Parsnips should 
 be boiled from twenty to thirty minutes. 
 
 Asparacus.—Cut off as much of the white end 
 of the shoots as will leave them about six inches 
 
424 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER. 
 
 long. Scrape the remaining white part very clean, 
 
 and as fast as they are done, put them into fresh 
 
 water. ‘lie them up in small, even parcels, put 
 them into boiling water, and boil them till tender, 
 but do not over-boil them. ‘Take them up into 
 a sieve, to drain a little. 
 
 Ontons.—Onions need boiling twenty or twen- 
 
 ty-five minutes. ‘The water should boil when 
 
 they are put in. 
 
 Onions may also be boiled in milk, which rem 
 
 ders them more mild, and to many persons, more 
 palatable. 
 
 # 
 
 
 
—  . VALUABLE WORKS 
 
 PUBLISHED BY 
 
 GEORGE W. LIGHT, 
 
 1 CORNHILL, BOSTON. 
 
 The strong approbation which the following works 
 have met with where they are known, has induced the 
 Publisher to stereotype them, and to take efficient mea- 
 sures for their circulation in all parts of the country. 
 
 THE YOUNG HUSBAND, 
 
 OR 
 Duties oF Man IN THE MarrtaGE RELATION. 
 Third Stereotype Edition. 
 
 > 
 * 
 
 Embellished hy an elegant Steel Engraving. 
 BY DR. WM. A. ALCOTT. 
 
 This work is a continuation of the series of Family Books to 
 which the Young Wife, Young Housekeeper and Young Mother 
 belong—a series which Dr. A. has been many years meditating 
 and preparing, and on which he has spared no pains. He takes 
 
 e ground that man, though less efficient in the formation of early 
 
 racter than woman, is nevertheless, as ‘a husband, indispensably 
 necessary to its highest perfection ; and in this view presents, ina 
 popular manner, his various duties in this most interesting and im- 
 portant relation—not only as a social, but as an intellectual and 
 moral agent—not only to his family, but in reference to the com- 
 munity atlarge. He would especially encourage in the Young 
 Husband a more exalted aim—better becoming a rational man and 
 a christian—than that of merely living in the world uninjured and 
 uninjuring. 
 
2 GEORGE W. LIGHT’S PUBLICATIONS | : 
 
 
 
 "The following are a few of the subjects treated upon : Pa 
 
 Choice of Occupation; Mistakes in getting a Wife; Place of 
 Residence ; City and Country compared ; House and Furniture ; 
 Living by System; Morning Duties; Leisure Hours ; Evenings at 
 Home ; Evening Reviews ; Improvement by Conversation; Let 
 ter-writing and Composition ; Keeping a Journal ; Periodical Pub- 
 lications ; Books and Study ; Domestic Economy ; The art of Ed- 
 ucating ; Novel Reading ; ‘The Sabbath ; Sunday Dinners ; Sunday 
 Visiting ; Particular Friends ; Relatives ; Importance of cultivating 
 our Social Nature ; Contests for Superiority; How Quarrels may 
 be avoided; Love; Fawning; Familiarity; Delicacy and Purity; 
 Art of Patience ; Giving Pain to a Wife ; Jealousy and Suspicion ; 
 Teasing and Scolding; Fault Finding; Keeping Cool; Cheerful- 
 ness ; Confidence and Reserve ; Giving Presents; Jokes and Puns ; 
 Dallianee ; Revealing Secrets; Value of Diserction ; Taking Sides ; 
 Decision ; Charities—Giving at Hap-Hazard ; Conjugal Servitude 5 
 Dress and Appearance; Health; Sickness and Medicine; Duties 
 to the Dead—Mourning &c.; Occasional Duties—Critical Periods, 
 &c. 
 
 ‘¢ For those who have recently entered the matrimonial state, or for 
 those who intend -entering it, we know not where [they can, elsewhere, 
 obtain so much useful information respecting their duty and obligations in 
 
 that interesting relation, as is to be had for a mere trifle in this volume.”?-- 
 [| Mass. Spy. ] 
 
 THE YOUNG WIFE, 
 
 Duties or WomAN IN THE MarriaGE RELATION. 
 Seventh Stereotype Edition. 
 
 Embellished by a beautiful Steel Plate and Vignette. 
 BY DR. WM. A. ALCOTT. 
 This work is based on the principle, that the great family. ae 
 
 
 
 
 
 the wife is Education—the education of herself and her family. 7 
 
 therefore exhibits the duties of a wife, especially to her husband, in 
 a manner at once original and striking. The author presupposes 
 her to have set out in matrimony with ehristian principles and 
 purposes; and hence proceeds to inculcate what he deems the 
 best methods of applying them in the routine of daily life and 
 conversation. We believe that no one can rise from the perusa} 
 of this volume without a higher respect for female character, as 
 well as a higher confidence in the divine wisdom of matrimony. 
 
ON HEALTH, DOMESTIC DUTIES, ETC. 3 
 
 
 
 THE YOUNG HOUSE-KEEPER, 
 
 TuHoucuts on Foop anp Cookery. 
 
 Fourth Stereotype Edition. 
 BY DR. WM. A. ALCOTT. 
 
 The grand object of this work is, to promote physical and moral 
 education. In this view it aims to render the maternal house-keeper 
 intelligent, rather than mechanical. It treats of most of the various 
 kinds of food, both animal and vegetable, in common use, and of 
 the most simple and rational modes of preparing them. And in 
 presenting what are claimed to be improved views or modes of 
 cookery, it gives reasons why they are so. It shows that a large 
 amount of time now devoted to the preparation of food and drink, 
 is worse than wasted, and that this time ought to be and must be 
 redeemed, and applied by the house-keeper herself to the physical, 
 moral and social improvement of her family. It is believed that 
 ‘this Manual will save at least one hundred dollars a year to every 
 large family, which may be devoted to other and nobler purposes 
 than mere indulgence of appetite. 
 
 It includes the Dignity of House-keeping; First Principles of 
 the House-keeper ; Having a Plan; Keeping Accounts ; Keeping 
 a Journal; Nature, Character and Modes of preparing the princi- 
 pal kinds of food produced from Farinaceous vegetables, as wheat, 
 rye, Indian corn, peas, beans, rice, &c., on which subjects there 
 are from twenty to thirty chapters ; from twenty to thirty chapters 
 on fruits, &c., and the modes of preparing or using them as food ; 
 several chapters on milk, butter, cheese, eggs, flesh and fish; the 
 
 toms and fashions of ccokery as it has been and now is; esti- 
 Hates on the present waste in families; Cooking as it should be 5 
 how to begin the work of reform in cookery ; a chapter of Recipes 
 for preparing food, especially vegetables and fruit, on rational and 
 simple principles ; with several other important subjects. 
 
 The following are from the many favorable notices of this work 
 which have already appeared : 
 
 *¢The author of this work may be styled the Young Ladies’ Friend. 
 No writer has labored more in their behalf than Dr. Alcott. It is replete 
 with sound practical sense—full of useful, nay, invaluable hints—just such 
 a book, in fact, as every lady, whether rich or poor, should have in her 
 hands.??—PorrLanp TRANSCRIPT. 
 
4. GEORGE W. LIGHT’S PUBLICATIONS 
 
 
 
 THE YOUNG MOTHER, ~ 
 
 Tue Puysican Enucation oF CHILDREN, 
 Seventh Edition—Embellished by a Vignette. 
 BY DR. WM. A. ALCOTT. 
 
 The ‘“ Young Mother” is designed as an every-day manual for 
 those who are desirous of conducting the physical education of the 
 young—from the very first—on such principles as Physiology and 
 Chemistry indicate. It inculeates the great importance of pre- 
 venting evil—especially physical evil—by implanting good habits. 
 We believe it to be the only work of a popular eharacter, written 
 by a medical man, on this subject, and that it is, on this account, 
 doubly valuable. Itis recommended by the Boston Medical and 
 Surgical Journal, and by the Press generally, as a work which 
 should be possessed by every family. 
 
 The following is a brief synopsis of the Contents : 
 
 The Nursery. Temperature of the Nursery. Ventilation of the 
 Nursery. The Child’s Dress; Swathing the Body ; Form of the 
 Dress; Material of Dress; Quantity of Dress ; Caps ; Hats and 
 Bonnets; Covering for the Feet; Pins; Remaining Wet; Remarks 
 on the Dress of Boys ; ; on the Dea of Girls. Cleanliness. Bath- 
 ing. -Food; Nursing—how often; Quantity of Food; How long 
 should Milk be the only Food? On Feeding before Teething 5 From 
 Teething to Weaning; During the Process of Weaning; Food 
 subsequently to Weaning ; Remarks on Fruit 5. Confectionary ; 
 Pastry ; Crude, or Raw Substances. Drinks. Giving Medicine. 
 Exercise—Rocking i in the Cradle; Carrying in the Arms; Crawl 
 ing; Walking; Riding in Carriages; Riding on Horseback. 
 Amusements, “Crying. Laughing. Sleep—Hour for Repose ; 
 Place for Repose; Purity of the Air; The Bed; The Covering 5 ; 
 Night Dresses ; Posture of the Body ; State of the Mind; Quali 
 of “Sleep ; Quantity of Sleep. Early Rising. Hardening 
 Constitution. Society. Employments. Education of the Senses— 
 Hearing—Seeing—Tasting and Smelling—Feeling. Abuses. 
 
 The following editorial remarks will give some idea of the man 
 ner in which it has been noticed in various parts of the country, 
 though many of the best periodicals have spoken of it in still 
 stronger terms of approbation. The Christian Mirror observes— 
 
 ‘The subject of this book is of vital interest to the whole human 
 family, and is treated by Dr. Alcott with the most intelligible sim- 
 
ON HEALTH, DOMESTIC DUTIES, ETC. 5 
 
 —_———-+— — 
 
 
 
 
 
 plicity. We hope it will find its way into the hands of all who 
 are entrusted with the training and rearing of children; and that its 
 sound views will supplant many of those burtful maxims and prae- 
 tices which are lamentably prevalent, and that the existing genera- 
 tion of mankind will be succeeded by a more healthy and a more 
 moral race.” 
 
 The New York Y. M. Advocate says—‘* This neatly bound and well 
 printed book should be in passessian of all mothers, and especially the 
 young. It will undoubtedly meet with a rapid sale, and be extensively 
 useful,” 
 
 [L= Copies bound in extra style for Presents. 
 
 ‘THE HOUSE | LIVE IN, 
 
 OR 
 
 THE HUMAN BODY. 
 
 Fifth Edition—much improved, with numerous Engravings. 
 FOR THE USE OF FAMILIES AND SCHOOLS. 
 BY DR. WM. A. ALCOTT. 
 
 The great difficulty of making a subject which has hitherto been 
 deemed dry and unintelligible, at once agreeable and interesting 
 to the young mind, has led the author of this volume to describe 
 the human body as a House. 
 
 The work treats, first, on the Frame consisting of the bones, 
 muscles, tendons, &c.; secondly, of the CovERING—consisting of 
 the skin, hair, nails, eyes, ears, &c.; and thirdly, of the APAR®- 
 MENTS and FurnituRE—by which are meant the interior cavities 
 and organs. Nearly every anatomical and physiological term 
 which appears in the work is so used or so explained, as to be at 
 
 ce clearly understood and apprehended. The subject is illus- 
 trated by numerous engravings. 
 
 The best recommendation of this work is, that it has been univer- 
 sally approved of by the families and schools where it has been 
 introduced, and by all medical men who have examined it. It has 
 also received the entire approbation of the Press, and is selling 
 rapidly. 
 
 The Philadelphia Commercial Gazette, in speaking of it says—‘‘It is 
 fall of instruction and entertainment. it gives as plain and simple a 
 deseription of the human body as it is possible to write.”’ 
 
6 GEORGE W. LIGHT’S PUBLICATIONS 
 
 
 
 
 
 The Christian Register says—-‘*‘ We have examined it with much plea- . 
 sure. It communicates highly important information in Anatomy and 
 Physiology, in a very interesting manner. The Author, by his Library of 
 Health, &c., and now by this neat little volume, has done and is doing an 
 important work, in regard to one branch of popular education, which has 
 been hitherto too much neglected. Society will reap good from his sow- 
 ing.?? 
 
 This work has also recived the high couse ealtee of Mrs. L. H. 
 SiGOUKNEY. 
 
 <= [t has been re-published in London; and the teachers in the famous 
 mmstitation of Count Fellenberg, at Hofwyl, in Switzerland, make it one 
 of the regular exercises of their pupils in French to translate it into that 
 language. 
 
 LIBRARY OF HEALTH, 
 
 AND 
 TEACHER ON THE Human ConsTITUTION. 
 
 Published Monthly—Price $1 a Year, in advance. 
 DR. WM. A. ALCOTT, Epiror. 
 
 ‘his is a Periodical work, originally called the ‘“‘ Mora) Re- 
 former, and Teacher on the Human Constitution.” It is published 
 in numbers of 32 pages each, in neat book style for binding into a 
 volume, illustrated by engravings, and has now concluded the third 
 year of its publication. The numbers of the past years are for 
 sale, bound in neat volumes. 
 
 This work discusses, in a familiar manner, all subjects connected 
 with physical education and self-management. it treats on the 
 connection of LIGHT, AIR, TEMPERATURE, CLEANLINESS, EXER- 
 CISE, SLEEP, FOOD, DRINK, CLIMATE, the PASSIONS, AFFE6- 
 Tions, &c., wih HEALTH, HAPPINESS and LONGEVITY. The 
 editor takes the ground that a proper understanding of the conte 
 tutional laws of the human body, and of all its organs and fune- 
 tions, and a strict obedience thereto, are indispensable to the 
 ighest perfection and happiness—present and future—of every 
 living human being. He deems this knowledge more and more 
 indispensable in proportion to the progress of civilization and 
 reGnement. The work is pledged to support no system nor set of 
 principles, any farther than that system and those principles can be 
 proved to be based on the laws of Physiology, and revealed 
 
ON HEALTH, DOMESTIC DUTIES, ETC. 7 
 
 
 
 truth, and on human experience; and consequently its pages are 
 always open to fair and temperate discussion. 
 
 The work has recently been warmly approved of by GrorGE 
 ComBE, (author of the ‘‘ Constitution of Man,’’) as well as a large 
 number of distinguished men of this country, among whom are the 
 following : 
 
 Dr. John C. Warren, Dr. S. B. Woodward, Rev. Dr. Humphrey, 
 Rev. S. R. Hall, Rev. Hubbard Winslow, Rev. R. Anderson, Rev. 
 Baron Stow, Rev. B. B. Wisner, R. H. Gillet, Esq., Rev. Wm. 
 Hague, Roberts Vaux, Esq., Dr. John M. Keagy, Dr. R. D. Mus- 
 sey, Prof. E. A. Andrews, Rev. L. F. Clark, Rev. M. M. Carll, 
 Rey. Dr. Fay, Dr. Sylvester Graham. 
 
 A 
 
 LECTURE TO YOUNG MEN, 
 
 INTENDED ALSO FOR THE SERIOUS CONSIDERATION OF 
 
 PARENTS AND GUARDIANS. 
 Second Edition—Enlarged and Improved, with Notes. 
 
 BY SYLVESTER GRAHAM. 
 
 The second edition of this important work is nearly double the 
 size of the first, although the price is increased but a trifle. It is 
 selling rapidly. It contains warm testimonials in its favor from 
 Wm. C. Woopsrinder, Editor of the Annals of Education, Dr 
 WoopWaRD, Superintendent of the Massachusetts Lunatic Asy- 
 lum, Dr. ALcoTT, and others. 
 
 Vhe following brief but highly valuable testimony is from the 
 distinguished superintendent of the Massachusetts Lunatic Hospital 
 _at Worcester: 
 
 “DEAR Sir :—The subject of your Lecture to Young Men. 
 has been much neglected, although of great importance. 
 
 This lecture, while it sounds the alarm to the young, will not fail 
 to awaken the attention of parents, if once perused. It is couched 
 in language as delicate as the nature of the subject will admit, and 
 may be read with propriety and benefit by all. 
 
 The evil of which it treats, if I mistake not, is more extensively 
 sapping the foundation of physical vigor and moral purity, in the 
 rising generation, than is generally Zohn even by those who 
 are awake to the danger, and who have witnessed the deplorable 
 influence of it upon its victims. S. B. WOODWARD.” 
 
8 - GEORGE W. LIGHT’S PUBLICATIONS. 
 
 
 
 A pa 
 BREAD AND BREAD- MAKING. 
 
 BY SYLVESTER GRAHAM. 
 
 This treatise, by the celebrated lecturer on the Science of Human 
 
 ' Life, recently published, has thus far met with a good sale, and will. i 
 
 doubtless have a wide circulation. It meets with strong favor even 
 among those who do not agree with Mr. G. in his general principles 
 of diet, &c. It treats on the following subjects : : 
 
 History of Bread } Laws of Diet; Material of Bread; Proper- 
 ties of Bread ; Fermentation ; : Preparation of Bread ; ; Who should 
 make Bread ; ’ Varieties of Bread. 
 
 We insert here but one of the numerous favorable notices of thisf 
 
 work : : 
 
 The Boston Recorder remarks—‘‘ It is a treatise, as we judge, o 
 great importance to all who eat bread, and to all who make bread, and 
 to all who love bread. Whatever objections may lie against some of Mr. 
 Graham’s theories, or against his ‘ measures,’ this little work deserves 
 the attention of all who ‘regard health, comfort and life itself. Facts are 
 stated which ought to be known; and reasonings are applied which can be 
 more easily rejected with supercilious scorn, than refuted on philosophical ot 
 
 principles,’? 
 

 

 
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