Part 11

Two or three years ago, while visiting a dear friend in the country, in a neighborhood where I knew many of the people, my friend proposed to invite in my acquaintances for an evening's chat. I replied that I should be most happy, should feel myself honored, but could not consent to such a gathering on my account if there was to be any eating. Mrs. L. was already overwhelmed with cares; if these were to be increased by the re-union, I should be obliged to decline; besides, on principle I was opposed to evening suppers. Mrs. L. couldn't think of such an omission for a moment, it would be the talk of the town for months; but I insisted, and finally she consented if I would take the responsibility, and explain it to the company. I did explain it, and gave my reasons for it. Most of them thought it was the right thing to do, several wished with all their hearts that the practice could become general, but one embryotic clergyman said he thought it well enough, perhaps, but it was pleasant, and he did not think it hurtful, to take refreshments in the evening; since that time, however, under the lash of dyspepsia, he has changed his opinion.

If people have beautiful homes and wealth, and desire to make the party a _recherche_ affair, are there not professional players, singers, actors, readers, florists etc., etc.? Something grand could be given for half the expense of an elaborate supper.

I need hardly hint to bright people of a less pretentious class, that social singing, dancing, charades, and a hundred beautiful games are all open to them. These are ten-fold more enjoyable than the more stately methods of the rich.

The time will soon come when people of really fine culture will not think of giving their guests a late supper; indeed, of the twenty most intellectual and refined homes to which I have been invited in America and Europe, not one gave any refreshments at an evening party, with perhaps the exception of wine in France, and lemonade in this country.

If people have no brains, but have good stomachs, then I advise eating on all occasions; in fact it is the only thing left. Such people may have already eaten three meals, but when they assemble in the evening at a sociable, they had better feed again, and feed hearty; what else is there to do? They can't sit and stare at each other by the hour, and it wouldn't be good manners to lie down on the floor and go to sleep. After they finish the more substantial meats and things, they can fill up the rest of the evening with nuts, doughnuts, apples, cider, and other trifling things.

But if people happen to have a love of music, paintings, conversation, (the finest of the fine arts,) bright games, charades, dramatics, or any other of twenty amusements; if they happen to have a love for anything above cold pork, then I advise them, when assembled in a social way, to give their brains a chance, and not stuff their stomachs; the former is human, the latter is piggish.

Few changes in our social life have afforded me such genuine satisfaction as the recent changes, among a few of our best people, in the forms and methods of hospitality. Only a few years ago, even among the intelligent class, the first question was:

"Will you have something to eat?"

Now you frequently hear such questions as:

"Have you seen those new stereoscopic views of the Yosemite?"

"No!"

"Please come this way and I will show you one of the most beautiful series you ever saw!"

Or: "Do let me read you, or you read to me, three of the funniest anecdotes I have seen for months!" Or: "Have you seen that remarkable statement in the papers this morning, in the circular letter from Bismark? He affirms that in twenty wars between Prussia and France, France has been the aggressor every time! If this be true, our sympathy for the French would seem to be thrown away; for after such a history, Prussia can hardly be blamed for wishing to so cripple France that she shall be unable for half a century, at least, to trouble her neighbors."

The change from "Will you have a glass of whiskey?" which was addressed to callers fifty years ago, to the question, "Will you have something to eat?" which was addressed to them twenty-five years ago, was, on the whole, a great improvement. The change which has now been inaugurated of addressing your hospitality to something above the stomach, is a still greater improvement.

When this has been fairly established, housekeepers can entertain company, in the evening, with real pleasure and profit to all concerned. When an evening sociable means a "big feed," it involves a great sacrifice; there is roasting, baking and fussing for two or three days, and the expense is such as only a few can well afford. And what is it all for? Why, I can't think of anything, unless it is to make the company sick. Does anyone doubt that eating late in the evening is injurious? And does any one doubt that the preparation and cost of the supper involve a sacrifice to the housekeeper? If these are admitted, I can't imagine any decent apology for the custom.

What shall be done? Every important movement must be inaugurated by individual action. Let those who have the idea, and the moral courage, excuse themselves from all evening refreshments, and the fashion will soon become general. It is a real pleasure to say, that already thousands have determined upon this course, so that now it is quite safe to entertain company without refreshments.

Well, after all this about what and how you should _not_ eat, now I will tell you what and how you _should_ eat.

To secure a clear, fresh skin, bright eye, active limbs, a quick brain, and a cheerful, pleasant temper, and if you would enjoy a long life, you should live about as follows:--

BREAKFAST.

Oatmeal porridge with milk and sugar. Or, Graham mush with a little good syrup. Or, cracked wheat, with milk and sugar. Or, baked potatoes with bread and butter. Or, beef-steak or mutton-chop with baked potatoes, and bread and butter.

If you are thin, and need fat, use the first three, if you are too fat, use the last named two. Drink cold water or a little weak coffee.

DINNER.

Beef or mutton, roasted, or stewed, with any vegetables you may like, (though tomatoes should be used very sparingly,) good bread and butter, and, close the meal with a glass of weak lemonade. Eat no dessert, unless it be a little fruit, and eat nothing more till the next morning.

There is no rule in regard to diet about which I am so fixed in my convictions as, that nothing should be eaten after dinner, and I think that the dinner should be taken early in the day; not later, if it can be so managed, than two o'clock. In regard to the precise hour for the dinner, I am not so clear, though for myself one o'clock is the best hour; but in reference to the omission of the third meal, I have, after long observation, _no doubt whatever_.

Hundreds of persons have come to me with indigestion in some of its many forms, and have experienced such relief in a single week from omitting the supper, that I have, for a number of years, depended upon this point in the diet as the best item in my prescriptions for indigestion. I have never met one person suffering from indigestion, who was not greatly relieved at once, by omitting the third meal.

Eat nothing between meals, not even an apple or peach. If you eat fruit, let it be with the breakfast and dinner. Cooked fruit is best for persons of weak digestion. I have met hundreds of people who could digest a large beefsteak without a pang, but who could not manage a single uncooked apple. I think certain dietetic reformers have somewhat overrated the value of fruit.

_Avoid cake, pie, all sweetmeats, nuts, raisins and candies_.

Manage your stomach as above, and at the end of ten years you will look back upon these table habits as the source of great advantages, and happiness.

For thirty years I have been a constant and careful observer, (I have no hobbies about diet,) and in the light of my own experience and these long observations, I assure you that the table habits I have advised, are vital to your health and happiness.

Pimples, blotches, yellow spots, nasal catarrh, biliousness, liver torpidity, constipation, sleepiness, dullness, low-spirits, and many other common affections would generally disappear with the adoption of these rules.

JACOB SCHNEIDER AND HIS DOUGHNUTS.

I cannot close this subject better than with a "little story" about my friend Jacob.

I called upon him about nine o'clock in the evening, and found him alone, and very seriously occupied with a big wooden bowl of doughnuts. I asked him:

"How many, so far?"

"Oh, eight or ten, perhaps."

"Did you have supper?"

"Oh, yes; I ate supper, and I shouldn't touched these, but somehow I didn't feel very well, and was sorter lonesome, and these doughnuts are kinder company for me, ye know. The old woman always fries them in the evening, and when they are nice and hot I sometimes eat more 'n twenty on 'em, just to sorter pass away the time, ye know."

WINES AND OTHER ALCOHOLIC DRINKS.

Woman rules in the social sphere, and is responsible for its vices. If women would expressly disapprove of wine-drinking, soon, among the decent classes, it would become obsolete.

Clara P. came from Portsmouth to Boston about twenty years ago, to seek her fortune as a teacher of the piano. Wholesome in person, and interesting in manners, she not only won pupils, but social recognition.

At a reception in Somerset St., she was asked to join in a glass of wine. Hinting at a shadow in her family history, she quietly declined, and fell into a sad, thoughtful mood.

A month later, at a similar gathering in the same house, she was confidentially told by the lady of the house, that two gentlemen who were present at the previous reception, had just requested her not to offer wines, as Miss. P. was made unhappy by it. The wines were not brought out, and no farther allusion was made to the subject. At several other social gatherings, when Miss P. was present, the same respectful deference was paid to her feelings; and yet this young woman did not belong to the most influential class.

Mrs. F. was married two years, when rum turned her little quiet home into a hell. Broken-hearted and sick, she left her baby son with her sister, and came to Boston to rest her aching head and sore heart, and to earn a living. She advertised for a place as housekeeper, and had several interviews with ladies and gentlemen who were in pursuit of a housekeeper. She told her story to each one in turn, and was quickly dropped by one and another, until her last dollar had been paid for bread and shelter; and then came a manly man who was touched by her sad recital, and said at once:

"Come, work and rest with us."

He took her to a beautiful house in Mt. Vernon St. and left her in charge of a fashionable, helpless family. Mrs. F. soon established herself in the confidence of the household. In a few days there came a party, and the housekeeper was busy enough. Among other duties was the delivery to the waiters of bottles of wine. Mrs. F. called the gentleman of the house, and said:

"You have been very kind to me, and I will do anything for you, but I hope you will excuse me from this; my hands refuse." The Colonel called one of the colored boys, and gave him the key of the wine- cellar, and the entertainment went on as usual. Up stairs the housekeeper's notion was mentioned, and one of the young men cried out:

"Come gentlemen, fill up, fill up; here's to the health of the brave housekeeper, and long may she wave."

The lady of the house thought it very queer, and next day sought an explanation. It was, after some reluctance, given with tears and passionate ejaculations. The lady thought there might be danger; indeed her husband and oldest son had of late seemed too fond of wine. Several conversations followed between the two mothers, and the lady, just previous to the next social gathering, said to her husband at the breakfast table, in the presence of her sons:

"What do you say to having no wine tonight? That story of Mrs. F.'s has really frightened me?"

"Now," said the husband, "don't _you_ go to preaching temperance; it's enough to have one woman in the house teaching morals."

"But," said the anxious wife and mother, "I was not preaching; I was just asking what you thought of it; and if you were willing, I had made up my mind to turn over a new leaf in our receptions."

_Husband_,--"Well, then I shall go in for abandoning coffee and tea. I think they do a great deal more harm than wine!"

_Herbert_,--"Yes, and how it would sound with all our fellows here, to tell them with solemn faces, that we were afraid they would all become drunkards, and so we must deny them. Oh, pshaw! I should never hear the last of it."

_Mother_,--"I can only say that when they were here last, several of them, including my own dear Herbert, drank too much."

_Herbert_,--"I think we had better turn it into a prayer-meeting at once."

_Father_,--"Oh well, mother, let us eat our breakfast in peace. We will speak of it some other time."

During the day the two mothers held a long conversation, in which Mrs. F described the beautiful, fresh face and spirit of Charles, before the dreadful thirst took possession of him, and the horrible, brutal oaths and passion which followed.

The two sad ones closed their long conversation, as women are wont to when in real trouble, by earnest, tearful prayer.

The lady of the house said to herself, "My husband is always declaring that I am the queen of his castle; that he attends to everything in his business outside, and never wants me to interfere; but that he leaves everything at home to me,--that here I am mistress of all. I wonder if this is so. God helping me, I will try my authority, this very night."

John was ordered to bring round the carriage, and soon after, a lady might have been seen down in Kilby St., in earnest conversation with a certain well-known wine merchant; and just before dark, two men, with a wagon at the back door, were very busy up in the rear of Mt. Vernon St.

About eleven o'clock that evening, the Colonel rang the bell for Richard, when the good wife interrupted him by saying:

"Gentlemen, will you not join me in a cup of coffee to-night, instead of the wine?"

"Certainly, madam, most certainly! while we are your guests, we place ourselves at your disposal!"

The bright urn was brought in, and placed upon the side-board, and the waiters, who had received special instructions, acquitted themselves with marked success.

If you could have placed your ear at a certain keyhole, after the family had retired that night, you would have heard a very earnest conversation.

A woman is heard to say, "But, husband, what do you mean, when you say that I rule here, just as you rule in your business? Do you mean to say that when I see my own darling son entering the path that leads to a drunkard's grave in our own house, I have nothing to say or do, but must wait for you to determine the details of our social entertainments? What do I rule over in our home, if not over the entertainment of our guests? What would you say if I were to go down to your counting room to-morrow, and attempt to over-rule your decisions? You are always saying that I am supreme here in our home, and now when I alter a little the details of our social entertainments, you say that I have assumed to determine what you shall eat and drink, that you won't be henpecked, and that you won't stand it, and all that sort of thing. Will you be kind enough to tell me which portion of the housekeeping you intend to leave to me, and exactly, in detail, what I may attend to here in our home, without asking your permission. It's of no use for you to say that I may attend to everything else but this one thing; God has given me a yearning for our boy, and, if you will force me to say it, for my own dear misguided husband, which forbids my abandonment of my duties and rights in this matter. In the light of this poor woman's dreadful history, God has shown me my duty, and, my dear husband, I shall perform it in His fear. No more wine will be served in our house, on any occasion, with my consent."

_Husband_,--"I will turn that meddlesome woman into the street to- morrow morning before breakfast, bag and baggage!"

"You will do nothing of the kind, for I have determined to keep her."

"Well, we'll see; I will hustle her off as soon as I am out of my bed."

Of course she was not sent away; and when, a year after, that family was earnestly pushing the interests of the cause of Temperance, the Colonel went himself with Mrs. F., the housekeeper, to bring her little son to the city, where in the beautiful home on Mt. Vernon St. he soon became not only a pet, but, as usual, a king and tyrant.

These events occurred about twenty-seven years ago. To-day Herbert, --the oldest son--and Mr. F., the housekeeper's husband, are partners in one of the largest concerns in this city.

If women knew how complete is their dominion in the social sphere, and would exercise their power, rum and tobacco would quickly disappear from the better classes, throughout the civilized world.

An effort among a few young women in the neighborhood of this city, induced more than fifty young men to abandon cigars. One young fellow swore by all the gods that he would smoke as long as he pleased, and so he did; but he did not _please_ to continue very long after several of the young ladies had had interviews with him.

In Dixon, Ill., fifty good women called at every rum-hole in town. There were forty nine of them. In each place they read a touching "Appeal from the Women of Dixon to the Venders of Intoxicating Drinks in Dixon," joined in a brief prayer, sang a verse, and went on to the next "rum-hole." This they repeated every day for a week, when there were no places left to visit.

The women of Battle Creek, Mich., tried the same thing. One hundred of them went, without parade or notice, to all the "rum-holes" in the city every day, till there was not one that dared open its doors. I was there at the time, and could tell you thrilling stories of the encounters of these noble, brave women with the venders of what a clergyman--a friend of mine--calls "liquid hell-fire."

But I hasten on to give you a very interesting illustration of the power of woman in the summary abatement of social nuisances. Although in lecturing upon "Woman's Influence in the Cause of Temperance," I have frequently given the facts entire, with the names of the parties, it has occurred to me that in writing it out for a book, it would be only just to avoid mentioning names, as many members of the families involved, are now most respectable people, and earnest advocates of Temperance.

Well, this is the story:--In a small factory village (say in Pennsylvania) with a thousand inhabitants, there were five "rum- holes." The men of the little community spent their time in the drinking places, while their children earned the family bread by long hours in the mills. The mothers were busy in caring for their children and drunken husbands, and many of them strove to add to the comforts of the family, by the use of the needle.

At length, on a Saturday night, several boys, coaxed by a scamp, drank freely of whiskey, and were taken home helplessly intoxicated; two of them came near dying. The good mothers were on fire. They had long since abandoned all hope for their husbands, but they would never, _never_ consent that their boys should become drunkards. By a common impulse they gathered in the little church on the hill, and held a meeting for prayer and weeping. After three hours of passionate ejaculation, tears and heart-breaking agony, they resolved as follows:

"We will make a banner with our own hands. On one side it shall bear the figure of a child drinking from a bucket, that beverage, which God has prepared for his creatures. On the other side we will work this sentiment, 'Mothers will sacrifice all for their Children.' When it is done, we will go to these men with our banner for the rallying flag, pray with them, plead with them, and never give up till they stop."

In two weeks they were ready, and eighty-four women (all mothers but four) with their little silken banner at their head, marched down to the first of the "rum-holes," and were met by the _landlord_ (curious misnomer) and told that they could pass on; that if they came in there, they would be sorry for it, &c. They had had no experience, did not know their power, were frightened, and hurried on. The second _landlord_ was a younger man, not so hard, and said, after looking over the company:

"Why, is it possible that all the good women in town are after me in this way? Why, of course I will stop, if they all wish it; that is to say, I will stop if the rest will."

"Mr. Warner, here is our paper; put down your name and say exactly what you will do; we are here on no idle errand."

So he put down his name with the words:

"I will stop if the rest will."

"John Warner."

They went on to the next one, who kept a bowling and billiard saloon as well as a drinking "hole," and laid their case before him.

He was a young man, and enjoyed a prodigious reputation as a "ladies man," and of course put down his name under John Warner's, and was careful to prefix the words,

"Ladies, I am your most obedient servant.

Henry Hinkle."

To make the story as short as possible, I will simply state that all but the first one on whom the ladies called--Hank Otis--stopped at once (doubtless at first to see how the thing would turn out) and then the ladies went down early in the morning and crowded into Hank's den. He came in, just out of bed, and was astonished to find his "grocery" crowded full of women. He had sworn to his cronies that if he ever caught "them women here, I will pitch 'em all into the street;" but on that morning, looking into the earnest faces of the crowd gathered about him, it occurred to him that pitching them into the street might not be a popular neighborhood movement, and so he did the next best thing--sent for his big easy chair, had a pillow brought for his head, another chair and pillow for his heels, and then cried out:

"Ladies, I am glad to see you; I an always glad to see my neighbors, especially the ladies. Now, ladies, do take seats (there was not another chair in the room) and go on; I shall be delighted to hear you."

They did go on; they cried, begged, plead, argued, reasoned and expostulated; they read from the Bible, they prayed, sang, and kept it up till twelve o'clock. A relative and very dear friend of mine was one of the company, and she has told me that she never witnessed such a scene,--it was enough to break a heart of stone.

About twelve o'clock, they said:

"Good morning, Mr. Otis; we will come again to-morrow morning."

"Do come, ladies, and come early; I hope you will never pass without dropping in. I am always glad to see my neighbors, especially the ladies."

The women went next morning before Hank was out of bed; as soon as he came in and took his chair, they began with singing and prayer. Pretty soon Otis pretended to be asleep, and snored prodigiously; but they knew he was awfully wide awake. During the whole forenoon they sang, prayed, begged, plead, expostulated, and then sang and prayed again.

About noon Otis noticed that they suddenly ceased, and he wondered what was to come next. He opened one eye a little, and saw they were pulling out their luncheons. He groaned in spirit, but comforted himself with the reflection, that he could sit as long as they could stand. Soon they began again with prayer, and after another hour they closed with a song, and saying:

"Good afternoon, Mr. Otis; we will come again to-morrow morning," they left him.