THE  TROPICAL  AGRICULTURIST. 
[Feb.  r,  1897. 
560 
the  opportunity  of  collocating  the  tea  with  the  caddy. 
Fate  is  ever  on  the  side  of  the  punster ; none  knows 
better  than  the  deviser  of  impromptu  witticisms  tfipt 
all  things  come  to  him  who  waits.  Lamb’s  remark 
to  a schoolmaster,  who  was  excessively  given  to  the 
cup  that  cheered  but  never  inebriated  the  poet 
Cowper,  is  among  the  neatest  ever  made.  ’ Tu  doces,’ 
said  he  {‘  Thou  tea-chest’). 
TEA  AND  PICTURE  GALLERIES. 
For  the  full  appreciation  of  afternoon  tea  there  is 
no  preparation  to  compare  with  a picture  gallery. 
Certain  social  critics  profess  to  have  discovered  that 
many  art  galleries  exist  solely  in  the  interests  of 
neighbouring  tea  resorts,  and  the  memory  of  pictures 
sometimes  found  on  their  walls  almost  inclines  one 
to  accept  the  theory  as  a fact.  It  is  a compliment 
to  this  divine  fluid  when  the  drinker  is  a little 
fatigued.  But  perhaps  a cup  of  tea  ‘ the  first  thing 
in  the  morning  ’ is  best  of  all.  Then,  pre-eminently, 
as  Browning  says,  is  it  the  time  and  the  place  and 
the  loved  one  altogether.  Tea  in  one’s  bedroom  is 
a luxury  which  brings  the  humble  person  into  line 
with  the  monarch  and  millionaire.  It  is  akin  to  the 
luxury  of  staying  away  from  church. 
CHINA  TEAS. 
The  happiest  tea  drinkers  are  they  who  have  gene- 
rous friends  in  China.  No  tea  is  like  theirs.  Th  it 
inscrutable  humourist,  Li  Hung  Chang,  left  presents 
of  priceless  tea  in  his  wake  as  he  pass- d smiling 
through  the  West — tea  of  integrity  hitherto  unsus- 
pected by  the  few  persons  whose  glory  it  was  to  taste 
it.  Among  these  was  Mr.  Gladstone,  who  is  great 
among  tea  drinkers,  and  whose  pleasant  humour  it 
is  to  speak  of  a cup  as  a dish.  Dean  Stanley  was 
among  the  tea  giants,  and  Dr.  Johnson’s  prowess  is 
a by-word.  Hartley  Coleridge  was  another  colossus 
of  the  caddy.  One  who  knew  him  tells  that  asking 
him  on  a certain  occasion  how  many  cups  he  was  in 
the  habit  of  drinking,  the  poet  replied  with  scorn, 
‘Cupsl  I don’t  count  by  cups.  I count  by  pots.’ 
Once  a man  looks  upon  tea  when  it  is  green,  his 
fate  ia  sealed.  Hyson  and  ‘Gunpowder’  between 
them  nave  shattered  many  a nerve.  Green  tea  num- 
bers amongst  its  opponents  Miss  Matty.  It  will  be 
remembered  that  when  she  set  up  her  tea  shop  in 
Cranford,  the  whole  country-side  seemed  to  be  out 
of  tea  at  the  same  moment.  ‘ The  only  alteration,’ 
says  the  chronicler,  ‘ I could  have  desired  in  Miss 
Matty’s  way  of  doing  business  was  that  she  should 
not  have  so  plaintively  entreated  some  of  her  custom- 
ers not  to  buy  green  tea — running  it  down  as  a slow 
poison,  sure  to  destroy  the  nerves,  and  produce  all 
manner  of  evil.’  According  to  a story  by  Sheridan 
Le  Fauu,  one  of  the  effects  of  green  tea  is  to  be 
visited  o’  nights  by  an  impalpable  monkey  with  red 
eyes.  ■ Punch,’  with  that  happy,  witty  way  it  has, 
calls'  this  state  ‘ delirium  teamens.’  A cupful  of  green 
tea  in  a bowl  of  punch  is  a discreet  addition. 
BLENDS. 
The  commonest  tea  is  black,  and  it  is  almost  always 
a blend,  even  when  the  terms  Congou  and  Souchong 
are  employed.  China,  India  and  Ceylon— all 
tfjree— are  levied  upon  for  these  mixtures.  Their 
description  in  the  catalogues  is  worth  study;  in- 
deed all  merchants’  adjectives  are  worth  study.  A 
table’  of  ten  graduated  qualities  of  black  teas  lies 
before  me.  'The  lowest  priced  var  ety  is  ‘pure 
and  useful  ; ’ then  ‘ strong  and  liquoring;  ’ 
then  ‘ strong  and  rich  flavoured.’  While  the  same 
kind,  but  two-pence  dearei,  is  ‘finer  grade  and  very 
economical ;’  then  ‘ splendid  liquor  ;’  then  ‘ extra 
choice  and  strongly  recommended ;’  then  ‘ beautiful 
quality  ;’  then  ‘ soft  and  rich  ;’  then  ‘ small  young  leaf, 
magnificent  liquor  ;’  and,  finally,  at  three  shillings 
and  fourpeuce,  ‘ very  choice,  small  leaf,  a coiinois- 
SB'jr’s  tea.'  In  another  list  I find  ‘ very  pungent  and 
flavoury.’  ‘ Syrupy’  is  also  a hard-worked  epithet.  It 
would  puzzle  a conscientious  merchant  to  fit  any  of 
these  terms,  even  the  humblest,  to  some  of  the  tea 
that  one  now  and  then  is  forced  to  drink.  But  the 
British  tourist  is  attracted  not  by  tea  as  tea,  but  by 
tea  with  accessories.  The  late  Mr.  Arthur  Cecil,  the 
comedian,  used  to  tell  with  great  glee  of  the  canni- 
bal tea  at  Kew:thus — ‘Tea,  plain,  6d. ;’  ‘Tea,  with 
shrimps,  9d. ‘ Tea,  with  children,  Is.’  But  tea  that 
has  such  accompaniments  is  not  to  be  run  after  by 
the  epicure.  Of  all  the  public  varieties  the  tea  ob- 
tained at  a railway  station  is  perhaps  the  worst.  The 
liquor  served  at  those  carnivals  which  are  known  to 
schoolboys  as  tea  fights  or  bun  struggles,  is  a close 
competitor,  but  being  free,  or  inexpensive,  it  has  an 
advantage  over  the  station  tea,  which  is  costly.  A 
question  in  an  examination  paper  circulated  among 
the  students  at  a London  hospital,  asked  the  reader 
to  ‘ give  some  idea  of  the  grief  felt  by  the  refresh- 
ment room  tea  at  never  having  seen  Asia.’  This  sor- 
row might  be  shared  by  the  station  blend.  Its  only 
merit  is  its  heat,  but  that  usually  is  nullified  by  the 
brevity  of  the  time  limit  allowed  by  the  company  for 
its  consumption.  Ship’s  tea,  that  is  to  say,  tea  in 
the  cabin  of  the  ocean  tramp,  would  be  worse 
only  that  at  sea  one  is  too  hungry  to  care  for  re- 
finements of  flavour.  The  officers  are  said  to  dis- 
criminate between  lea  and  coffee  by  taking  the 
temperature  of  the  milk  jug.  If  hot,  the  beverage 
is  coffee  ; if  cold,  tea. 
GOLD  TEA, 
Cold  tea  has  its  adherents  no  less  than  hot.  One 
of  the  merits  of  cold  tea  is  that,  as  the  Bishop  of 
Bedford  would  say,  it  ‘ looks  like  beer.’  This  to  the 
ordinary  member  of  society  is  a peculiarity  which 
will  cause  no  excitement,  but  the  resemblance  is  of 
some  value  to  publicans  who  do  not  wish  to  offend 
customers  by  not  drinking  with  them,  and  yet  do  not 
care  to  be  continually  sipping  alcoholic  liquor.  A 
glass  of  cold  tea,  on  the  other  side  of  the  counter,  is 
to  all  intents  and  purposes  a glass  of  beer.  And, 
indeed,  when  one  is  really  thirsty  on  a hot  day, 
there  is  nothing  more  delightsome.  But  care  must 
be  taken  that  the  liquor  cools  apart  from  the  leaves. 
The  most  welcome  drink  that  ever  came  to  me  was 
tea.  We  found  it  in  a charcoal  burner’s  hut  in  the 
New  Forest.  The  charcoal  burner  was  absent,  and 
we  left  a sixpence  blinking  at  the  bottom  of  the 
empty  basin.  I hope  he  was  satisfied,  but  if  on 
his  return  he  was  half  as  thirsty  as  we,  he  would, 
rather  than  have  lost  his  tea,  have  forfeited  the  sav- 
ings of  his  life.  For  the  time  being  our  need  was 
greater  than  his. 
HISTORICAL. 
The  English  history  of  the  plant  is  comparatively 
brief.  According  to  the  popular  statement  tea  was 
introduced  into  this  country  from  Holland  in  16t>6. 
D’Israeli,  however,  thinks  the  date  earlier,  because  he 
once  heard  of  a collector  whose  treasure!  included  Oli- 
ver Cromwell’s  teapot.  Concerning  the  beginnings 
of  tea  in  this  ceuntry  there  is  a story  told  by  Southey 
of  the  great-grandfather  of  a friend  of  his,  who  made 
one  of  the  party  that  sat  down  to  the  first  pound  of 
tea  that  ever  came  to  Penrith.  They  boiled  it  in  a 
kettle,  and  ate  the  leaves  with  butter  and  salt,  wonder- 
ing wherein  the  attraction  lay. 
Tea,  generally,  met  with  opposition  which  nowadays 
is  reserved  for  motor  cars  and  new  comic  papers.  In 
D Israeli’s  account  of  its  introduction,  ho  says  that 
Patin,  a French  savant,  called  the  leaf  ‘ I’impeBti- 
nente  nouveautc  du  siecle’ — the  seventeenth — and 
that  Hahnemann  (with  the  upper  part  of  whose  body 
we  are  so  familiar  by  reason  of  its  place  in  tl^g  shop 
windows  of  homoeopathic  chemists)  described  tea 
dealers  as  ‘ immoral  members  of  society,  lying  in  wait 
for  men’s  purses  and  lives.’  Colley  Cibber  wrote 
that  tea  was  ‘ the  universal  pretence  of  bringing  the 
wicked  of  both  sexes  together  in  a morning,’  The  in- 
dictment W'as  indeed  persistent  and  grave.  Comment- 
ing upon  an  attack  made  in  tea’s  early  days  by  Duncan 
Forbes,  an  ‘Edinburgh’  review'er  wrote,  in  1816,  the 
following  summarising  passage:  ‘The  progress  of 
this  famous  plant  has  been  something  like  tlie  pro- 
gre-'s  of  truth  ; suspected  at  first,  though  very  palat- 
able to  those  who  had  the  courage  to  taste  it;  re- 
sisted as  it  encroached ; abused  as  its  popularity 
seemed  to  spread  ; and  establishing  its  triumph  at 
last,  in  cheering  the  whole  land  from  the  palace  to 
the  cottage,  only  by  the  slow  and  resisthiss  efforts  of 
time  and  its  own  virtues,’  E.  V.  Lucas,  • 
