This may appear to many a very strong condemnation of their favorite beverage; nevertheless, I am satisfied that it is perfectly sound. This is not an opinion hastily adopted, but a conclusion based upon many observations, extending over a long period of years, and confirmed by experiments made upon myself.
The "Pall Mall Gazette" of August 7th says, "There is balm for tea-drinkers in one of Mr. Mattieu Williams's 'Science Notes' in the 'Gentleman's Magazine.' "This is true to a certain extent, I referred to the Chinese as habitual drinkers of boiled water, and suggest that this may explain their comparative immunity from cholera, where all the other conditions for a raging epidemic are fulfilled. It is the boiling of the water, not the infusion of tea-leaves therein, to which I attribute the destruction of the germs of infection.
In the note which follows, I proposed an infusion of fried or toasted bread-crumbs, oatmeal, maize, wheat, barley, malt, etc., as a substitute for the tea, the deep color of the infusion (poured off from the grounds in this case) serving to certify the boiling of the water. Rumford's burned soup, taken habitually at breakfast or other meals, would answer the same purpose, with the further advantage to poor people of being, to a certain extent, a nutritious soup as well as a beverage. All that is nutritious in porter is in this, minus the alcoholic drug and its vile companion, the fusel-oil.
The experience of every confirmed tea-drinker, when soundly interpreted, supplies condemnation of the beverage; the plea commonly and blindly urged on its behalf being, when understood, an eloquent expression of such condemnation. "It is so refreshing"; "I am fit for nothing when tea-time comes round until I have had my tea, and then I am fit for anything." The "fit for nothing" state comes on at five p. m., when the drug is taken at the orthodox time, or even in the early morning, in the case of those who are accustomed to have a cup of tea brought to their bedside before rising. "With blindness still more profound, some will plead for tea by telling that by its aid one can sit up all night long at brain-work without feeling sleepy, provided ample supplies of the infusion are taken from time to time.
It is unquestionably true that such may be done; that the tea-drinker is languid and weary at tea-time, whatever be the hour, and that the refreshment produced by "the cup that cheers" and is said not to inebriate, is almost instantaneous.
What is the true significance of these facts?
The refreshment is certainly not due to nutrition, not to the rebuilding of any worn-out or exhausted organic tissue. The total quantity of material conveyed from the tea-leaves into the water is ridiculously too small for the performance of any such nutritive function; and, besides this, the action is far too rapid, there is not sufficient time for the conversion of even that minute quantity into organized working tissue. The action can not be that of a food, but is purely
