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though somewhat medicinal, are not poisons. They are not without some fair claim to rank as food, fitted for nutrition as well as respiration. Besides the active principle, theine-a nitrogenous compound-they contain a very considerable proportion of starch and gum, as well as of gluten ; this last in such amount as to be equal to one-fourth of the weight of the dry leaves. In ordinary infusion, indeed, this gluten is but sparingly dissolved ; but were the powdered dry leaves consumed as beans or pease are, they would prove about equally nutritious. There is also a certain proportion of fat or oil in both tea and coffee ; while in cocoa the amount of this is very large.
While thus these things may rank as food-far more truly than alcohol—they are in another sense accessory to food, either as luxuries, or in a medicinal point of view. For besides their power of restraining the consumption of tissue, they excite & peculiar action in the nervous system. This action is neither truly stimulant nor sedative, but rather tonic; soothing when there is over-excitement, rousing when there is depression; and always tending to relieve the nervous centres from congestion of blood. Besides, from this pleasant and beneficial working there is no untoward reaction, unless the tea or coffee be taken in inordinate quantity; then—especially in the case of coffeeunpleasant symptoms do occur, affecting both the circulating and nervous systems.
Tea and coffee, then, may rank both as food and medicine. And the question naturally arises, in reference to their latter character, Whether the copious and constant use of them as food is quite proper and safe? This, as we have seen, is not essential even under the greatest exertion. And without presuming to dogmatise, we would venture to say that when used as ordinary diet, or as luxuries in connection with it, they ought to be taken weak as well as in moderate quantity-in other words, temperately;* while large and strong doses ought to be reserved for the necessities of the nervous system arising from exhaustion by labour or thought, depression by accident, or disorder by disease.
When judiciously used, they may contribute greatly to our comfort-as much as any form of alcohol can do, and with none of its sinister results on body, mind, or morals. Call them medicines, if you will. They are “domestic medicines,” at
* Some have alleged that the success of homeopathic practitioners is not unconnected with the sparing use, or absolute interdiction, of coffee and tea, as well as of all alcoholics, in ordinary diet.
once safe and suitable ; and, as such, the canister may range on the frugal cupboard far more appropriately than the decanter or the black-bottle, the tankard, the greybeard, or the glass.
The great advantage of the water-drinker, as compared with the alcoholist, under work, is this. He has the same strength, with greater self-control. He is ready to stop, when necessity requires that he should, and runs less risk, consequently, of injury by excessive strain. He does not expend a temporary energy, at the expense of future exhaustion. He does not avail himself of a doubtful and deceitful hope, at the cost of deterioration of the blood, and consequent danger to health and life. He does his work at least as copiously and as well as the other, even for a time; and in long continuance of labour, he will do it both more copiously and better. He obtains his desired end in all respects satisfactorily. There is no lassitude, headache, feverishness, foul tongue, or aching limbs next day-even after the hardest labour. All is fresh, and supple, and free. There is no reaction.*
Has alcohol no real and useful power, then, in relation to bodily labour? Yes; but much more limited than is generally supposed. It may be of use in an emergency; not for continu
If an honest, willing horse has a daily round of work to do, what fits him for it is not the whip or spur, but corn and hay, and water, and regular rest. But if at any time a special
a effort is to be made, and the ordinary means do not seem suffi. cient to secure it, then whip and spur may be employed-though always with caution. If a mighty load is to be stirred, if a yawning ditch has to be leaped, if the rising tide or burning prairie be pressing behind the rider, he may well use both heel and hand; even should he have cause to fear that the effort which saves his own life, may be fatal to the faithful steed that carries him. As a man spurs his horse, so may he spur himself, for the accomplishment of some special end. But obviously that end ought to be of a sufficient importance to warrant such a means; and the spurring, even when warrantable, must be conducted with prudence and caution. Alcohol is not a suitable means of continuously sustaining man under bodily labour ; it
' is only a spur for a spurt.
"I have backed as many as 60 tons in a day, with perfect ease," says a London coalwhipper, "since I took the pledge. But, before, I should scarcely have been able to crawl home; certain to have lost the next day's work."
DO YOUR DUTY!
By Mr. J. P. PARKER.
The Rev. Dr. Marsh, of America, visited London a few years ago, and at a temperance meeting he related the following remarkable incident. I am not aware that it has ever appeared in print, and I give it as nearly as I can recollect, in his own language :
“When I was a young man I was appointed as an itinerant preacher, to a place in what you have heard called the backwoods of America. On the Lord's day morning I passed through stormy weather, to the post of duty, and found the chapel to be a rough log building, with a rude porch in front. The dwel. lings of the settlers were widely distant from each other. There were two persons under the porch; one, the chapel keeper, who also acted as precentor; the other, a stranger, who was driven by the pelting of the storm to take shelter."
“We shall have no congregation this morning," said the chapel keeper, “most of the people live six or seven miles away, and they could not get here, if they had ever so much will, in this terrible weather.”—“Well, friend,” I said, “If we have but a small congregation, we cannot help that. The promise that where two or three are met together, there the Lord is present, to bless. So I will do my duty, if you will kindly help me.” I stood at the rude desk, and gave out a hymn, which we sung, perhaps not very melodiously, but we did our best, and the Lord demands no more from any of his disciples. I then read the scriptures, engaged in prayer, gave out a second hymn, read my text, and preached my sermon. "After a short hymn, I concluded in the usual way, and thus discharged my duty. All this time the rain came down in torrents, but, at the close of my sermon, it ceased for a short time, and the sun peeped out for a few moments. My congregation, at last, as at first, consisted of two persons, the chapel keeper, and the stranger within our gates, who, at the close of my sermon, took advantage of the weather-change, and went
“ You will say, I had not much encouragement to preach at that time! It would appear so, but I knew that I was in the way of duty, and that was satisfactory. Twenty-five years passed away. I was then the pastor of a large church, and was appointed its representative to a conference of ministers, in one
of our large but distant towns. I journeyed many miles to reach the general rendezvous, and on my entering the large room, where my brethren in the ministry assembled for general introduction, and friendly greeting, preparatory to the business meeting, a stranger came across the room, and accosted me
-“ Mr. Marsh, I believe ?” “ That is my name, brother, but I have not the pleasure of knowing you personally.” “You don't recognize me, of course. Do you remember, about twentyfive years ago, preaching in a stormy season, in a roughly-built chapel, to a congregation of two persons ?” “Perfectly well : and were you the stranger within our gates ?” “I was. I was driven to shelter from the storm, and I remained in the chapel to the close of your sermon. I was at that time an atheist. Struck by the peculiarity of the preacher to a congregation of two, I became interested in your proceedings. I bless God for the sermon I heard. It was light in the midst of darkness; the turning point of my life. I am now in the ministry, by God's grace, but you were the instrument employed to awaken me to righteousness."
“Brethren, do your duty at all times; prayerfully, earnestly, and faithfully. Let not a small gathering discourage you. Who hath despised the day of small things,' saith the Lord.”
LIFE SKETCH OF MR. GEORGE CRUIKSHANK. To talk of the time when George Cruikshank was not, seems talking of another age. Who can remember the time when that strange spider-fashioned name did not appear at the foot of plates to illustrate comic annuals, or on caricatures in the printsellers' windows ? He was born in the year 1794, and is therefore, at the time we write, sixty-seven years of age. And during those sixty-seven years, no man has been more respected, has worked harder, or has, in his way, rendered his country better service. Singular to say, George inherited from his father the peculiar vein for which he has become so celebrated. His father was himself a painter, and an etcher of caricaturesa faculty of which the son has made abundant use. This design was frustrated by the death of his father-he could not then leave his mother and sister in their sorrow, and yet it was needful that he should do something to find them and himself with the necessaries of life. Ruminating upon the chances of various employments, his thoughts turned to the stage, owing, probably, to his tolerably successful appearance at the Haymarket Theatre, upon the occasion of a benefit taken by his friend, Fortunately, at this period, some of his sketches which had served to amuse his leisure, coming by accident under the notice of one of the London publishers, he engaged George Cruikshank to illustrate some infant Primers, song books, and cheap drolleries ; which not only obtained for him the immediate means of living, but led to the production of widely appreciated and more durable works. From the success which met his first efforts, he determined to make the pencil his profession. To this end he obtained admission to the Royal Academy as a student, in order that he might have the benefit of the lectures and the opportunity for study, which that institution presented. Fuseli, who was then lecturing, told him, owing to the crowde state of the rooms, that he must “fight for a place.” The figures provided for illustration being ill-placed, for his short sight, prevented his making any drawings, and induced him to withdraw from the Academy at the end of the course. He did not, however, give up sketehing, as he contributed at this time a number of caricatures for “The Scourge.” This was before he was twenty; at which time he projected, in conjunction with a friend of the name of Earle, a periodical called “The Meteor," published at half-a-crown. This was a failure, owing it is said, to the negligence of Earle. From this time George Cruikshank devoted himself to the almost exclusive production of caricatures. All the popular print-publishers were employed at different times in bringing out his humorous subjects. At a later period he formed a connection with the celebrated Mr. Hone, whose political squibs he illustrated so forciby, as to draw crowds round the print-sellers' windows. In 1820, the Trial of Queen Caroline furnished both Mr. Hone and Mr. Cruikshank with a subject peculiarly adapted to their powers. “The House that Jack built,"
;" “ The Man in the Moon," "The Political Showman at Home,” “The Queen's Matrimonial Ladder,” “Non mi Ri- . cordo,” “ A Slap at Slop," are still remembered as amongst the most amusing and attractive.
George Cruikshank had long before this period contemplated a series of pictures to illustrate the evils of what is called “Seeing life." The designs he made were accompanied by descriptive matter, written by Pierce Egan, and published with the title of “Life in London.” The book became at once very popular ; but his idea of rendering the book instructive as well