Part 2

23. The drink which has come to supply the place of beer has, in general, been _tea_. It is notorious that tea has no _useful strength_ in it; that it contains nothing _nutritious_; that it, besides being _good_ for nothing, has _badness_ in it, because it is well known to produce want of sleep in many cases, and in all cases, to shake and weaken the nerves. It is, in fact, a weaker kind of laudanum, which enlivens for the moment and deadens afterwards. At any rate it communicates no strength to the body; it does not, in any degree, assist in affording what labour demands. It is, then, of no _use_. And, now, as to its _cost_, compared with that of _beer_. I shall make my comparison applicable to a year, or three hundred and sixty-five days. I shall suppose the tea to be only five shillings the pound; the sugar only sevenpence; the milk only twopence a quart. The prices are at the very lowest. I shall suppose a tea-pot to cost a shilling, six cups and saucers two shillings and sixpence, and six pewter spoons eighteen-pence. How to estimate the firing I hardly know; but certainly there must be in the course of the year, two hundred fires made that would not be made, were it not for tea drinking. Then comes the great article of all, the _time_ employed in this tea-making affair. It is impossible to make a fire, boil water, make the tea, drink it, wash up the things, sweep up the fire-place, and put all to rights again, in a less space of time, upon an average, than _two hours_. However, let us allow _one hour_; and here we have a woman occupied no less than three hundred and sixty-five hours in the year, or thirty whole days, at twelve hours in the day; that is to say, one month out of the twelve in the year, besides the waste of the man's time in hanging about waiting for the tea! Needs there any thing more to make us cease to wonder at seeing labourers' children with dirty linen and holes in the heels of their stockings? Observe, too, that the time thus spent is, one half of it, the best time of the day. It is the top of the morning, which, in every calling of life, contains an hour worth two or three hours of the afternoon. By the time that the clattering tea tackle is out of the way, the morning is spoiled; its prime is gone; and any work that is to be done afterwards lags heavily along. If the mother have to go out to work, the tea affair must all first be over. She comes into the field, in summer time, when the sun has gone a third part of his course. She has the heat of the day to encounter, instead of having her work done and being ready to return home at any early hour. Yet early she must go, too: for, there is the fire again to be made, the clattering tea-tackle again to come forward; and even in the longest day she must have _candle light_, which never ought to be seen in a cottage (except in case of illness) from March to September.

24. Now, then, let us take the bare cost of the use of tea. I suppose a pound of tea to last twenty days; which is not nearly half an ounce every morning and evening. I allow for each mess half a pint of milk. And I allow three pounds of the red dirty sugar to each pound of tea. The account of expenditure would then stand very high; but to these must be added the amount of the tea tackle, one set of which will, upon an average, be demolished every year. To these outgoings must be added the cost of beer at the public-house; for some the man will have, after all, and the woman too, unless they be upon the point of actual starvation. Two pots a week is as little as will serve in this way; and here is a dead loss of ninepence a week, seeing that two pots of beer, full as strong, and a great deal better, can be brewed at home for threepence. The account of the year's tea drinking will then stand thus:

_L._ _s._ _d._

18lb. of tea 4 10 0 54lb. of sugar 1 11 6 365 pints of milk 1 10 0 Tea tackle 0 5 0 200 fires 0 16 8 30 days' work 0 15 0 Loss by going to public-house 1 19 0 ------------ _L._ 11 7 2[3]

25. I have here estimated every thing at its very lowest. The entertainment which I have here provided is as poor, as mean, as miserable as any thing short of starvation can set forth; and yet the wretched thing amounts to a good third part of a good and able labourer's wages! For this money, he and his family may drink good and wholesome beer; in a short time, out of the mere savings from this waste, may drink it out of silver cups and tankards. In a labourer's family, _wholesome_ beer, that has a little life in it, is all that is wanted in _general_. Little children, that do not work, should not have beer. Broth, porridge, or something in that way, is the thing for them. However, I shall suppose, in order to make my comparison as little complicated as possible, that he brews nothing but beer as strong as the generality of beer to be had at the public-house, and divested of the poisonous drugs which that beer but too often contains; and I shall further suppose that he uses in his family two quarts of this beer every day from the first of October to the last day of March inclusive: three quarts a day during the months of April and May; four quarts a day during the months of June and September; and five quarts a day during the months of July and August; and if this be not enough, it must be a family of drunkards. Here are 1097 quarts, or 274 gallons. Now, a bushel of malt will make eighteen gallons of better beer than that which is sold at the public-houses. And this is precisely a gallon for the price of a quart. People should bear in mind, that the beer bought at the public-house is loaded with a _beer tax_, with the tax on the public-house keeper, in the shape of license, with all the taxes and expenses of the brewer, with all the taxes, rent, and other expenses of the publican, and with all the _profits_ of both brewer and publican; so that when a man swallows a pot of beer at a public-house, he has all these expenses to help to defray, besides the mere tax on the malt and on the hops.

26. Well, then, to brew this ample supply of good beer for a labourer's family, these 274 gallons, requires _fifteen_ bushels of malt and (for let us do the thing well) _fifteen pounds of hops_. The malt is now eight shillings a bushel, and very good hops may be bought for less than a shilling a pound. The _grains_ and yeast will amply pay for the labour and fuel employed in the brewing; seeing that there will be pigs to eat the grains, and bread to be baked with the yeast. The account will then stand thus:

_L._ _s._ _d._

15 bushels of malt 6 0 0 15 pounds of hops 0 15 0 Wear of utensils 0 10 0 ----------- _L._ 7 5 0[4]

27. Here, then, is the sum of four pounds two shillings and twopence saved every year. The utensils for brewing are, a brass kettle, a mashing tub, coolers, (for which washing tubs may serve,) a half hogshead, with one end taken out, for a tun tub, about four nine-gallon casks, and a couple of eighteen-gallon casks. This is an ample supply of utensils, each of which will last, with proper care, a good long lifetime or two, and the whole of which, even if purchased new from the shop, will only exceed by a few shillings, if they exceed at all, the amount of the saving, arising _the very first year_, from quitting the troublesome and pernicious practice of drinking tea. The saving of each succeeding year would, if you chose it, purchase a silver mug to hold half a pint at least. However, the saving would naturally be applied to purposes more conducive to the well-being and happiness of a family.

28. It is not, however, the _mere saving_ to which I look. This is, indeed, a matter of great importance, whether we look at the amount itself, or at the ultimate consequences of a judicious application of it; for _four pounds_ make a great _hole_ in a man's wages for the year; and when we consider all the advantages that would arise to a family of children from having these four pounds, now so miserably wasted, laid out upon their backs, in the shape of a decent dress, it is impossible to look at this waste without feelings of sorrow not wholly unmixed with those of a harsher description.

29. But, I look upon the thing in a still more serious light. I view the tea drinking as a destroyer of health, an enfeebler of the frame, an engenderer of effeminacy and laziness, a debaucher of youth, and a maker of misery for old age. In the fifteen bushels of malt there are 570 pounds weight of _sweet_; that is to say, of nutricious matter, unmixed with any thing injurious to health. In the 730 tea messes of the year there are 54 pounds of sweet in the sugar, and about 30 pounds of matter equal to sugar in the milk. Here are 84 pounds instead of 570, and even the good effect of these 84 pounds is more than over-balanced by the corrosive, gnawing and poisonous powers of the tea.

30. It is impossible for any one to deny the truth of this statement. Put it to the test with a lean hog: give him the fifteen bushels of malt, and he will repay you in ten score of bacon or thereabouts. But give him the 730 tea messes, or rather begin to give them to him, and give him nothing else, and he is dead with hunger, and bequeaths you his skeleton, at the end of about seven days. It is impossible to doubt in such a case. The tea drinking has done a great deal in bringing this nation into the state of misery in which it now is; and the tea drinking, which is carried on by "dribs" and "drabs;" by pence and farthings going out at a time; this miserable practice has been gradually introduced by the growing weight of the taxes on malt and on hops, and by the everlasting penury amongst the labourers, occasioned by the paper-money.

31. We see better prospects however, and therefore let us now rouse ourselves, and shake from us the degrading curse, the effects of which have been much more extensive and infinitely more mischievous than men in general seem to imagine.

32. It must be evident to every one, that the practice of tea drinking must render the frame feeble and unfit to encounter hard labour or severe weather, while, as I have shown, it deducts from the means of replenishing the belly and covering the back. Hence succeeds a softness, an effeminacy, a seeking for the fire-side, a lurking in the bed, and, in short, all the characteristics of idleness, for which, in this case, real want of strength furnishes an apology. The tea drinking fills the public-house, makes the frequenting of it habitual, corrupts boys as soon as they are able to move from home, and does little less for the girls, to whom the gossip of the tea-table is no bad preparatory school for the brothel. At the very least, it teaches them idleness. The everlasting dawdling about with the slops of the tea tackle, gives them a relish for nothing that requires strength and activity. When they go from home, they know how to do nothing that is useful. To brew, to bake, to make butter, to milk, to rear poultry; to do any earthly thing of use they are wholly unqualified. To shut poor young creatures up in manufactories is bad enough; but there, at any rate, they do something that is useful; whereas, the girl that has been brought up merely to boil the tea-kettle, and to assist in the gossip inseparable from the practice, is a mere consumer of food, a pest to her employer, and a curse to her husband, if any man be so unfortunate as to fix his affections upon her.

33. But is it in the power of any man, any good labourer, who has attained the age of fifty, to look back upon the last thirty years of his life, without cursing the day in which tea was introduced into England? Where is there such a man, who cannot trace to this cause a very considerable part of all the mortifications and sufferings of his life? When was he ever _too late_ at his labour; when did he ever meet with a frown, with a turning off, and pauperism on that account, without being able to trace it to the tea-kettle? When reproached with lagging in the morning, the poor wretch tells you that he will make up for it by _working during his breakfast time_! I have heard this a hundred and a hundred times over. He was up time enough; but the tea-kettle kept him lolling and lounging at home; and now, instead of sitting down to a breakfast upon bread, bacon, and beer, which is to carry him on to the hour of dinner, he has to force his limbs along under the sweat of feebleness, and at dinner time to swallow his dry bread, or slake his half-feverish thirst at the pump or the brook. To the wretched tea-kettle he has to return at night, with legs hardly sufficient to maintain him; and thus he makes his miserable progress towards that death, which he finds ten or fifteen years sooner than he would have found it had he made his wife brew beer instead of making tea. If he now and then gladdens his heart with the drugs of the public house, some quarrel, some accident, some illness, is the probable consequence; to the affray abroad succeeds an affray at home; the mischievous example reaches the children, corrupts them or scatters them, and misery for life is the consequence.

34. I should now proceed to the _details_ of brewing; but these, though they will not occupy a large space, must be put off to the _second number_. The custom of brewing at home has so long ceased amongst labourers, and, in many cases, amongst tradesmen, that it was necessary for me fully to state my reasons for wishing to see the custom revived. I shall, in my next, clearly explain how the operation is performed; and it will be found to be so _easy a thing_, that I am not without hope, that many _tradesmen_, who now spend their evenings at the public house, amidst tobacco smoke and empty _noise_, may be induced, by the finding of better drink at home, at a quarter part of the price, to perceive that home is by far the pleasantest place wherein to pass their hours of relaxation.

35. My work is intended chiefly for the benefit of _cottagers_, who must, of course, have some _land_; for, I purpose to show, that a large part of the food of even a large family may be raised, without any diminution of the labourer's earnings abroad, from forty rod, or a quarter of an acre, of ground; but at the same time, what I have to say will be applicable to larger establishments, in all the branches of domestic economy: and especially to that of providing a family with _beer_.

36. The _kind of beer_, for a labourer's family, that is to say, the _degree of strength_, must depend on circumstances; on the numerousness of the family; on the season of the year, and various other things. But, generally speaking, beer _half_ the strength of that mentioned in paragraph 25 will be quite strong enough; for that is, at least, one-third stronger than the farm-house "_small beer_," which, however, as long experience has proved, is best suited to the purpose. A judicious labourer would probably always have some _ale_ in his house, and have small beer for the general drink. There is no reason why he should not keep _Christmas_ as well as the farmer; and when he is _mowing_, _reaping_, or is at any other hard work, a quart, or three pints, of _really good fat ale_ a-day is by no means too much. However, circumstances vary so much with different labourers, that as to the _sort_ of beer, and the number of brewings, and the times of brewing, no general rule can be laid down.

37. Before I proceed to explain the uses of the several brewing utensils, I must speak of the _quality_ of the materials of which beer is made; that is to say, the _malt_, _hops_, and _water_. Malt varies very much in quality, as, indeed, it must, with the quality of the barley. When good, it is full of flour, and in biting a grain asunder, you find it bite easily, and see the _shell thin_ and filled up well with flour. If it bite _hard_ and _steely_, the malt is bad. There is _pale_ malt and _brown_ malt; but the difference in the two arises merely from the different degrees of heat employed in the drying. The main thing to attend to is, the _quantity of flour_. If the barley was bad; _thin_, or _steely_, whether from unripeness or blight, or any other cause, it will not _malt_ so well; that is to say, it will not send out its roots in due time; and a part of it will still be barley. Then, the world is wicked enough to think, and even to say, that there are maltsters who, when they send you a bushel of malt, _put a little barley amongst it_, the malt being _taxed_ and the barley _not_! Let us hope that this is seldom the case; yet, when we _do know_ that this terrible system of taxation induces the beer-selling gentry to supply their customers with stuff little better than poison, it is not very uncharitable to suppose it possible for some maltsters to yield to the temptations of the devil so far as to play the trick above mentioned. To detect this trick, and to discover what portion of the barley is in an unmalted state, take a handful of the _unground_ malt, and put it into a bowl of cold water. Mix it about with the water a little; that is, let every grain be _just wet all over_; and whatever part of them _sink_ are not good. If you have your malt _ground_, there is not, as I know of, any means of detection. Therefore, if your brewing be considerable in amount, _grind your own malt_, the means of doing which is very easy, and neither expensive nor troublesome, as will appear, when I come to speak of _flour_. If the barley be _well malted_, there is still a variety in the quality of the malt; that is to say, a bushel of malt from fine, plump, heavy barley, will be better than the same quantity from thin and light barley. In this case, as in the case of wheat, the _weight_ is the criterion of the quality. Only bear in mind, that as a bushel of wheat, weighing _sixty-two_ pounds, is better worth _six_ shillings, than a bushel weighing _fifty-two_ is worth _four_ shillings, so a bushel of malt weighing _forty-five_ pounds is better worth _nine_ shillings, than a bushel weighing _thirty-five_ is worth _six_ shillings. In malt, therefore, as in every thing else, the word _cheap_ is a deception, unless the quality be taken into view. But, bear in mind, that in the case of _unmalted_ barley, mixed with the malt, the _weight_ can be no rule; for barley is _heavier_ than malt.

No. II.

BREWING BEER--(_continued._)

38. As to using _barley_ in the making of beer, I have given it a full and fair trial twice over, and I would recommend it to neither rich nor poor. The barley produces _strength_, though nothing like the malt; but the beer is _flat_, even though you use half malt and half barley; and flat beer lies heavy on the stomach, and of course, besides the bad taste, is unwholesome. To pay 4_s._ 6_d._ tax upon every bushel of our own barley, turned into malt, when the barley itself is not worth 3_s._ a bushel, is a horrid thing; but, as long as the owners of the land shall be so dastardly as to suffer themselves to be thus deprived of the use of their estates to favour the slave-drivers and plunderers of the East and West Indies, we must submit to the thing, incomprehensible to foreigners, and even to ourselves, as the submission may be.

39. With regard to _hops_, the quality is very various. At times when some sell for 5_s._ a pound, others sell for _sixpence_. Provided the purchaser understand the article, the quality is, of course, in proportion to the price. There are two things to be considered in hops: the _power of preserving beer_, and that of giving it a _pleasant flavour_. Hops may be _strong_; and yet not _good_. They should be _bright_, have no _leaves_ or bits of branches amongst them. The hop is the _husk_, or _seed-pod_, of the hop-vine, as the _cone_ is that of the fir-tree; and the _seeds_ themselves are deposited, like those of the fir, round a little soft stalk, enveloped by the several folds of this pod, or cone. If, in the gathering, leaves of the vine or bits of the branches are mixed with the hops, these not only help to make up the _weight_, but they give a _bad taste_ to the beer; and indeed, if they abound much, they spoil the beer. Great attention is therefore necessary in this respect. There are, too, numerous _sorts_ of hops, varying in size, form, and quality, quite as much as _apples_. However, when they are in a state to be used in brewing, the marks of goodness are an absence of _brown colour_, (for that indicates perished hops;) a colour _between green_ and _yellow_; a great _quantity of the yellow farina_; seeds _not too large nor too hard_; a _clammy feel_ when rubbed between the fingers; and a _lively_, pleasant smell. As to the _age_ of hops, they retain for twenty years, probably, their _power of preserving beer_; but not of giving it a pleasant flavour. I have used them at _ten years old_, and should have no fear of using them at twenty. They lose none of their _bitterness_; none of their power of preserving beer; but they lose the other quality; and therefore, in the making of fine ale, or beer, new hops are to be preferred. As to the _quantity_ of hops, it is clear, from what has been said, that that must, in some degree depend upon their _quality_; but, supposing them to be good in quality, a pound of hops to a bushel of malt is about the quantity. A good deal, however, depends upon the length of time that the beer is intended to be kept, and upon the season of the year in which it is brewed. Beer intended to be kept a long while should have the full pound, also beer brewed in warmer weather, though for present use: half the quantity may do under an opposite state of circumstances.

40. The _water_ should be soft by all means. That of brooks, or rivers, is best. That of a _pond_, fed by a rivulet, or spring, will do very well. _Rain-water_, if just fallen, may do; but stale rain-water, or stagnant pond-water, makes the beer _flat_ and difficult to keep; and _hard water_, from wells, is very bad; it does not get the sweetness out of the malt, nor the bitterness out of the hops, like soft water; and the wort of it does not ferment well, which is a certain proof of its unfitness for the purpose.