The Art of Living in Australia...........................................................................................................................1

AUSTRALIA, forming as it does a vast island continent in the Southern world, lies to some extent within the

tropical range, for the Tropic of Capricorn traverses its northern part. At present, however, its most densely

populated portion lies just outside the tropics, and it is this semitropical part of Australia with which we

have mostly to do. And apart, too, from the mere fact of Australia being between certain parallels of latitude,

which makes its climate tropical or semitropical, as the case may be, its position is peculiar in that it forms

One of the most extraordinary circumstances in connection with the Australian people is, that they have never

yet realized their semitropical environment. It would naturally be supposed that a dominating influence of

this kind would have, from the very first, exercised an irresistible effect on their mode of living. But, on the

contrary, the type of the Australian dwellinghouse, the clothing of the Australian people, and, what is more

significant than anything else, their food habits, prove incontestably that they have never recognised the

semitropical character of their climate all over the rest of the world it will be found that the inhabitants of

different regions adapt themselves to their surroundings. For instance, the Laplander and the Hindoo live in

such a widely different manner, that one can scarcely believe they belong to the same human family.

It has, however, been reserved for Australia, strange even from the first, to prove an exception to this

universal law. Yes, strange even from the first! For did not the earliest arrivals find that the seasons came at

the wrong time of the year; that Christmastide came with sunshine, and that the middle of the year was its

coolest part? Were there not found in it curious animals, partly quadruped, partly bird, and partly reptile?

Were there not discovered, also, other animals who carried their young in a pouch? Moreover, did Dot these

first settlers see that the trees shed their bark, and not their leaves; and that the stones were on the outside, not

But even admitting these peculiarities of season, of fauna and of flora it may be asked, How is it that the

people of Australia have never adapted themselves to their climatic surroundings? The answer, or rather

answers, to such an interrogation must largely consist of matters of opinion. This being the case, therefore, I

call do no more than attempt to give my own explanation of this singular anomaly. It must be remembered

that the one great impetus to colonisation in Australia was the discovery of gold in 1851. Up till that time

settlement had been proceeding steadily, it is true. Indeed, one may go 80 far as to say that the development

of the country was progressing, although slowly, on safe and natural lines. But the announcement of the

finding of gold, which was continually being corroborated by successive reports, acted as an electric stimulus

throughout the whole civilized world. As a consequence shipload after shipload of new comers flocked to

Australia, all aflame with the same ardent desire gold. Amongst them were certainly many of the picked

men of the earth, whose spirit will leaven the whole of Australasia for all time to come. Yet even at the

present day we still see the influence of this gold period at work, in the readiness with which men are caught

by any plausible mining prospectus. They have only to be told that a company is being formed to extract gold

out of road metal, and they are ready to believe it, and, what is more, prepared to put money into it.

But far better than all this eagerness to amass wealth by some fortunate coup, would be the natural

development of the country. Agriculture and marketgardening, vinegrowing and winemaking, the

deepsea fisheries and all the other comparatively neglected opportunities, only await their expansion into

vast sources of wealth. What wonder, then, that a continent with so much that is wanting in connection with

its food life should be living in a manner distinctly opposed to its climatological necessities! In the case of

America there is a far different history. Settlement began there in a small way at first, to gradually expand as

time went on. There was no sudden event, with the exception of the shortlived Californian gold rush of

184950, to set men flocking to its shores in countless legions. No, in America the inland territory has been

peopled, steadily and slowly at first, but in after years by leaps and bounds, so that its development has been

But there must be something even more than this to explain the want of adaptation to climate shown in

Australia, and it is, I think, to be found in the following. It must be remembered that Australia has been

peopled chiefly by the AngloSaxon race. In such a stock the traditional tendencies are almost ineradicable,

and hence it is that the descendants of the new comers believe as their fathers, did before them. It's in the

blood. For there can be no doubt but that the AngloSaxon thinks there is only one way of living in every

part of the world no matter whether the climate be tropical, semitropical, or frigid. Those in the old

country live in a certain manner, and all the rest of the globe have every right to follow their example.

These two facts that Australia was peopled in part by the influx which followed the discovery of gold, and

that its inhabitants belong essentially to the AngloSaxon race, have unquestionably exercised a great

influence over our Australian foodhabits. But notwithstanding these powerful underlying factors, there still

remains that most extraordinary circumstance, to which I at first referred, namely, that the Australian people

have never realized their semitropical environment. In order to assign to this latter the prominence it

deserves, it seems desirable to make special inquiry into the peculiarities of the climate in its different parts.

With that object in view, therefore, I wrote for certain information to the observatories of the four principal

Australian metropolitan centres, namely, Sydney, Melbourne, Adelaide, and Brisbane. As has always been

the case, I received the fullest answers to my requests from Mr. H.C. Russell, Government Astronomer of

New South Wales; from Mr. R.L.J. Ellery, Government Astronomer of Victoria; from Sir Charles Todd,

Government Observer of South Australia; and from Mr. Clement L. Wragge, Government Meteorologist of

Queensland. And it is with a feeling of considerable indebtedness to these gentlemen that I acknowledge their

uniform kindness. And yet it is important to remember that the annual temperature, by itself, of any given

locality may afford no indication whatever of its climatic peculiarities. Take for instance the climate of the

NorthEastern portion of the United States. That region is characterized by intense heat during the summer,

and extreme cold in the winter. In New York, for example, the mean summer temperature ranges as high as

70.9�, while the mean winter temperature is as low as 30.1�; yet the mean temperature of the whole year is

53.2�, affording no indication of these extremes. The mean annual temperature alone, therefore, would be

entirely misleading, as it would give no idea of these alternations of heat and cold. Such being the case, the

actual character of any climate will be far better realized by placing in juxtaposition the mean annual

temperature, the mean temperature of the hot, and the mean temperature of the cooler months. First of all,

then, I purpose showing the mean annual temperature, and also the mean temperatures for the hot and cooler

TABLE showing the Mean Annual Temperature, and also the Mean Temperatures for the Hot and Cooler

Months, of Sydney, Melbourne, Adelaide, and Brisbane. Capital. Mean Annual Temperature Mean

Temperature for the Hot Months Mean Temperature for the Cold Months Sydney 62.9 70 58.7 Melbourne

Much will be gained by a comparison of these temperatures of the Australian capitals with those of some

other cities in different parts of the world. A contrast of this kind will, in my opinion, help to a truer

understanding of the climate of these capitals, than any other. Accordingly I made a successful application to

Mr. H.C. Russell, for the corresponding temperatures of the following cities: London, Edinburgh, Dublin;

Marseilles, Naples, Messina; New York, San Francisco, New Orleans; Bombay, Calcutta, and Madras.

TABLE showing the Mean Annual Temperature, as well as the Mean Summer and Winter Temperatures, in

twelve different cities. City. Mean Annual Temperature Mean Summer Temperature Mean Winter

Temperature United KingdomLondon 50.8 62.9 39.5 Edinburgh 47.5 58 38 Dublin 50 61.1 40.7 . . . .

Southern EuropeMarseilles (France) 58.3 72.9 45.2 Naples (Italy) 62 74.4 47.6 Messina (Sicily) 65.8 77.2

55 . . . . United States of AmericaNew York 53.2 70.9 30.1 San Francisco 56.2 60 51.6 New Orleans 69.8

82 55.8 . . . . IndiaBombay 78.8 82.6 73.8 Calcutta 78.4 83.3 67.8 Madras 82 86.4 76.6

It has been said that Australia is practically Southern Europe, and to a very great extent this is perfectly true.

It will be seen, however, on reference to the preceding tables, that the Australian climate is more equable than

that of Southern Europe, for there is not such a marked difference between the hot and the cooler months. In

the New England States of North America, as exemplified by New York, there are intensely hot summers and

extremely cold winters to which fact attention has already been drawn. And lastly, in India, the

thermometer stands at such a height, winter as well as summer, that we can only be thankful our lines are cast

Having thus compared the summer and winter temperatures of the Australian capitals with those of other

cities in different parts of the world, it will be advisable to direct our attention to some details connected with

the climate of these capitals, and of the corresponding colonies generally. Commencing with Sydney we find

that the climate is characterized by the absence of very violent changes of temperature, owing in great

measure to its proximity to the ocean, which in winter is about 10 � warmer than the air. Its summer climate is

marked by the absence of hot winds, which do not come more than three or four times, and the are

shortlived, seldom lasting more than five or six hours. For a short time in the midsummer of each year,

Sydney is visited regularly by moist sea breezes, which are enervating to many persons. While these continue

the temperature seldom rises to 80 �, but there is so much moisture that they are very oppressive. Otherwise

the climate is one of the most enjoyable in the world. In other parts of New South Wales towns may be found

varying in mean temperature from 45.8 � at Kiandra to 69.1 � at Bourke. Speaking generally it is a fact that

for the same mean annual temperature in New South Wales the range between summer and winter

The climate of Melbourne is characterized by a low average humidity, moderate rainfall, and moderate

winds, strong gales being of her rare occurrence. The most marked feature is the summer hot wind. A hot

wind is always a northerly wind, and the highest temperature generally occurs a little before the win changes

to west or southwest. When this takes place a sudden drop to a comparatively low temperature sometimes

follows within a few minutes. These hot winds, however, are not frequent, only averaging eight or nine per

annum. These characteristics will apply to all Victoria except the mountain ranges, where all the climatic

The climate of Adelaide is certainly healthy, and, with the exception of the extreme heat occasionally

experienced in summer, the weather may be described as enjoyable. It must be remembered, however, that

these high temperatures are always accompanied by extreme dryness, the wet bulb thermometer usually

reading at such times from 30� to 35�, or even more, below the temperature of the air. The heat is, therefore,

more bearable than if it was combined with the humid atmosphere. When the thermometer stands perhaps at

something over 100�, the wet bulb thermometer will show 65�, and it is this which enables persons to bear the

heat of the summer and carry on their usual pursuits with less inconvenience and discomfort than is felt in

tropical and damp climates, though the temperature may be 15� or 20� lower, but nearly saturated with

aqueous vapour, as at Port Darwin, where during the rainy season of the northwest monsoon the

thermometer may stand at only 88�, whilst the wet bulb at the same time indicates 86�. Such an atmosphere, it

need hardly be said, is far more enervating than the hot and dry air of the Adelaide plains. The summer,

which may be termed warm and dry, usually extends over, say, five months; and during the remainder of the

year the climate is simply perfect. The temperature in midwinter over the Adelaide plains rarely, if ever,

reaches the freezing point, although there may be sharp frosts, and on still clear nights, so frequently

experienced, copious dews. On the ranges, and on the high lying plains 150 miles north of Adelaide, lower

The climatic features of Brisbane are, as a mean expression, decidedly semitropical. The months from

October to March may be classed as tropic when vegetation makes luxuriant growth, especially if the rainfall

prove abundant. The rest of the year, from April to September, is marked by a dry, bracing, "continental"

climate, during which the westerly wind often proves very cold, bleaching, and searching accompanied by

great dryness accumulated during the passage of this current from southerncentral Australia. Many settlers

affirm that they feel the peculiar searching character of the dry cold "westerlies" more keenly than the more

"honest" frost of the old country. Yet vigorous constitutions thoroughly enjoy the bracing nature of the

westerly weather of winter. Hard ground frosts not unfrequently occur in the Darling Downs and Maranoa

districts, especially during May, June, and July, in connection with the westerly type of climate; and,

moreover, ice has at times been observed in the waterjugs of bedrooms, As before intimated, the westerly

winds are marked by great dryness, so that (saturation= 100) a percentage of relative humidity below 33 per

cent. may occur during the prevalence of such phenomena, not only in Brisbane, but especially in the more

western districts above mentioned. Such conditions are characterized by great diathermancy of atmosphere,

and hence are frequently followed by days of considerable heat. Even in the tropics, in inland districts,

ground frosts are known to have occurred owing to this extreme diathermancy of the atmosphere far from the

coast, and the consequent attendant factor of active terrestrial radiation. In coast districts, or that fringe of

country bordering the ocean north from Rockhampton, frost is of very rare occurrence, and the prevailing

winds are between southeast and eastnortheast, with a rainfall far more abundant than that obtaining in

other parts of Queensland. The climate of the country surrounding the southern end of the Gulf of Carpentaria

is very hot and trying from November to March, but genial thenceforward. It is certainly not unhealthy, and

the fevers suffered from in the northern and gulf districts of Queensland are largely brought on by reckless or

In addition to the foregoing, which has been obtained from headquarters, certain questions were submitted

by me as to the climatology of the different colonies. As it will be seen, these interrogations are somewhat

extensive in their scope, and supply knowledge upon points, which is not ordinarily met with in my

descriptions of Australian climate. In drafting them everything which had a bearing on health was included as

far as possible, and consequently in a work of this kind they unquestionably deserve a prominent place. In

arranging them I purpose placing the different replies after each question in the following order, namely, New

South Wales, Victoria, South Australia, and Queensland. And in the different answers it should be borne in

mind that Mr. H.C. Russell is responsible for New South Wales; Mr. R.L.J. Ellery for Victoria; Sir Charles

Is it not a fact that the temperature and barometric pressure are exposed to sudden and marked changes? Have

New South Wales. The temperature sometimes changes rapidly in the summer, coming with a change

from a hot wind to a cold southerly, although the instances are rare. Once in 30 years I have known such a

change to amount to 20� in 15 minutes. Under ordinary circumstances the change in temperature from hot to

cold wind takes several hours to amount to 20�. The fluctuations of barometric pressure are moderate, seldom

amounting to half an inch in a day, or an inch in a week. In England, on the other hand, the pressure

Victoria. Yes; the temperature much more so than the barometric pressure; it has fallen from a high

temperature to 20 and even 30 degrees sometimes in as many minutes, when a hot north wind has suddenly

changed to a cold southerly one. But such sudden and great changes occur very seldom, and then only in the

hot summer months, and are known as "the change." On several occasions in the last 30 years it has fallen

South Australia. Yes, in the summer; but, especially as regards temperature, rarely in the winter. One

notable example occurred on February 9th, 1887, when during a heavy thunderstorm the temperature fell

25� in 10 or 15 minutes, followed by a rising temperature. In other instances the fall of temperature has been

almost equally rapid. From this it will be seen that we are subject to large and quick falls of temperature

following extreme heat. The approach of hot weather is usually gradual, and the fall abrupt. The barometer

has been known to show a rise of 6/10 of an inch in 24 hours; this, however, is exceptional.

Queensland. There is no record of a fall of as much as 22� in 15 minutes. But, on the other hand, a rise of

30� in three hours is a common feature over the Darling Downs after sunrise. Owing to the diathermancy of

the atmosphere already referred to, it is a fact, nevertheless, that in the " continental " or inland districts of

Southern Queensland the temperature in winter is subject to sudden and marked changes. Barometric

pressure, owing to the comparatively low latitude, is not exposed to sudden and marked changes, except

during hurricane conditions, which usually affect the central coastline in February and March.

As a corollary to the preceding, would you say that the climate is marked by great variability?

New South Wales. No; just the opposite. Indeed, as regards Sydney itself. there are few cities in which so

much uniformity of temperature and slow changes, are to be found. The cause of any great change is the hot

wind, and as that seldom comes more than three or four times in the year, great changes are infrequent. The

mean diurnal range in Sydney is 11 1/2 �, and taking a series of years it is very unusual for the range on any

Victoria. No; because these are exceptional phenomena. In the late Spring and during early summer the

climate may be said to be occasionally subject to sharp and sudden changes, which give it the character of

variability. But the deviations from mean temperature, except for short periods, are not remarkable.

Queensland. Certainly not; with the exception of the wide diurnal range of temperature in winter in the

southern "continental" districts, as at Cambooya and Thargomindah. The changes are, according to my

knowledge, far more sudden and marked in the southern colonies (as during a "shift" from N.E. by W., to

S.W. for instance, at Melbourne, and especially at Adelaide) than in Queensland and its coastal districts.

With regard to sustained, prolonged, or continued high temperatures during the summer months, for how

many days have you known the temperature remain continuously at a high level? This is a very important

question, as it concerns infantile mortality in no small degree; I shall be grateful for your experience?

New South Wales. Much depends upon what temperature is deemed a "high level." If we assume that 90�

and upwards is a high level, then such periods are very rare in Sydney; in fact during the past 24 years there

have only been three. In 1868 there were three consecutive hot days of which the mean temperature was

91.8�; in 1870 a period of four days with a mean temperature of 91.3�; and in 1874 a period of four days with

a mean temperature of 90.2�. Since then, although sometimes near it, the temperature has never been for three

days over 90 �. Taking a lower level, we have one period of nine days in 1870, the longest on record, during

which the mean temperature was 82.6�. It must, however, be distinctly understood that what is here taken is

not the mean temperature of each 24 hours, but the highest temperature reached during the day, and which

would not as a rule last more than three or four hours, if so much. If the mean temperature of the day were

taken these temperatures, as given, would have to be reduced at least 10 per cent.

Victoria. It is very unusual to have a hot period lasting more than three days; when it does happen it is

generally in February or March. In the majority of cases high temperatures (over 90�) do not last more than

one or two days. The exceptions generally occur in February or March, and have sometimes extended to four

or five days hot weather, with a temperature of over 80� with a maximum of about 90�, has on a few

occasions during the last 30 years extended from five to ten days; and in 1890, a memorable instance, to 12

South Australia. The longest stretch of continuous heat noted was in January and February 1857. On

January 28th, 29th, and 30th, the temperature exceeded 100�, and during the whole of February it was over

90� on 25 days, and above 100� on 12 days, the mean being 107�. In January 1858 there were 10 consecutive

days over 90�, of which eight consecutive days were over 100�. In January 1860 there were in the beginning

of the month seven consecutive days, above 100� (maximum 107.5�). In the middle of the same month, seven

days were over 90�, of which five exceeded 100�, two days reaching 113.7�. These are, however, exceptions

to our usual experience. Although there are several other instances of great heat, yet the foregoing will suffice

Queensland. During the period February 17th to February 23rd, 1891, the shade temperature at

Townsville ranged between 81� and 62�, but at Cairns a range between 82 � and 70� is of frequent occurrence,

Any information with regard to humidity of the atmosphere also, will be of great value. All physicians are of

opinion that a high temperature, combined with moisture, is very irritating to the lungs of those affected with

Before setting forth the different answers in response to this, it will be desirable to refer briefly to the term

"humidity." The humidity of the atmosphere is defined as the degree of its approach to saturation. Air

completely saturated is represented by 100, and that absolutely free of vapour by 0. As a matter of fact,

however, the latter never occurs; even in the driest regions of Arabia a humidity of 10 per cent. is almost

unknown. For its estimation the Wet and Dry Bulb thermometers are employed. These consist of two

ordinary thermometers. One has its bulb exposed so as to register the temperature of the air. The bulb of the

other is covered with muslin; this latter material being kept wet through its connection with a cotton wick

dipping into a vessel of water. The water ascends from this vessel by capillary attraction, spreads over the

muslin, and evaporates quickly or slowly, according to the dryness or moistness of the atmosphere. Thus

when the air is driest the difference between the two thermometers will be greatest, and, on the contrary,

when it is completely saturated with moisture the two readings will be almost identical.

New South Wales. A considerable part of the colony, forming the western plains, is subject to great heat,

caused, no doubt, by the sun's great power on treeless plains, and the almost total absence of cooling winds;

yet, although in summer the temperature here frequently rises over 100�, and sometimes up to 120�, owing to

the cold at night and in winter the mean temperatures are not greater than those of corresponding latitudes in

the northern hemisphere. This region of the colony is remarkably dry, and stock of all kinds thrive well and

are very free from disease. At Bourke, the driest place in the colony, the humidity for a long series of years is

in the spring 51�, in the summer 49�, in the autumn 61�, and in the winter 74�. At Sydney the humidity in

the Spring is 69�, in the summer 70�, in the autumn 79�, and in the winter 79�.

Victoria. The humidity of the air of Melbourne is low, the average being 71 per cent. In the summer it

falls to 65, and on hot days is generally very low. The characteristic of our hot weather is that it is usually

extremely dry; the exceptions are very few, and occur in the late Spring and early autumn during thundery,

muggy weather. On the hottest days, with north winds, the dryness makes the heat much more endurable, and

South Australia. Attention has already been drawn to the fact that the hot, dry air met with on the

Adelaide plains is far more endurable than a lower temperature in which the atmosphere is surcharged with

aqueous vapour. A damp atmosphere is a rare thing in South Australia during the summer, though in March

there are at times some warm and humid days. In the winter the air for the most part is dry, although the

nights are often damp. The Mount Lofty Ranges, close to Adelaide, afford a cool retreat; they have a very

large rainfall, in some years over 50 inches. The climate at Mount Gambier, in the southeastern part of the

colony, is cooler and damper; it has also a much heavier rainfall than the Adelaide plains.

Of what duration are the different seasons, and to what months would you apportion each season?

New South Wales and Victoria. Spring September, October, November; Summer December,

South Australia. Spring September, October; Summer comprises the five months from November to

March inclusive; Autumn April, May; Winter June, July, August. Practically, in South Australia the

year may be divided into two seasons, namely, Spring, the seven months from April to October inclusive; and

Queensland. With regard to Southern Queensland, the seasons may be provisionally apportioned as

follows: Spring August, September, October; Summer November, December, January, February,

New South Wales. A general statement is not sufficient, for the winds vary much at different places; but

taking the colony as a whole, its prevailing winds come from some point between northwest and

southwest, and hence the dry climate. In Sydney no less than 39.6 per cent. of the wind comes from this

quarter. The winds known as southerly bursters are generally to be expected from November to the end of

February; they are always attended with strong electrical excitement, a stream of sparks being sometimes

produced for an hour at the electrometer. The approach of the true burster is indicated by a peculiar roll of

clouds, which, when once seen, cannot be mistaken. It is just above the South horizon, and extends on either

side of it 15� or 20 �, and looks as if a thin sheet of cloud were being rolled up like a scroll by the advancing

wind. The change of wind is sometimes very sudden; it may be fresh N.E. and in ten minutes a gale from S.

Hence vessels not on the lookout are sometimes caught unprepared, and suffer accordingly. When a

southerly wind commences anywhere south of Sydney it is at once telegraphed to its principal coast towns,

and a signal put up indicating its approach. As to the hot winds, they are so insignificant in number that it

cannot be said they play any particular role. Their effect is to raise the temperature, because they flow from

the heated interior of Australia; but they do not last long. and for the majority of people are dry, healthy

winds. Indeed, they are by no means so oppressive as the warm northeast wind, so charged with moisture,

Victoria. In summer the N. winds blow to the extent of 8 per cent., the S.W. winds 24.1 per cent., and the

S. winds 201 per cent. Northerly, or warmquarter winds, in summer are 20 per cent., and southerly, or

coolquarter winds, 64 per cent. The northerly winds in winter, however, are bleak and cold, like easterly

winds in England. The particular role played by the hot wind is to precede a cyclonic movement, and is

always in front of a low pressure area or Vshaped depression. It is frequently followed by thunderstorms

and rain of short duration. It dries the surface and raises dust storms when strong. So far as its effects on the

people are concerned, it does not appear to hinder the ordinary occupations of life. Some invalids are better

during its continuance, some worse; but all weakly people feel some depression after "the change" comes.

South Australia. As far as the southern regions of the colony are concerned, we may say, speaking

generally, that light winds and calms are a very distinctive characteristic. The prevailing wind in the summer

is the S.E., varied by seabreezes during the day. In the winter there are mostly dry, cold N.E. winds, broken

at intervals by westerly and S.W. gales of moderate strength, squalls, and rain. The best and heaviest rainfalls

are those which set in with the surface winds at N.E., the rain increasing in intensity as the wind veers to

N.W., and breaking up into showers and squalls as it veers to S.W. In the interior, north of, say, latitude 30�

to about 18�S., the prevailing wind all the year is the S.E. North of latitude 18� to the north coast the country

is well within the influence of the northnest monsoon during the summer months, with frequent

Queensland. Eastern Queensland (or rather the Pacific Slope) is very seldom troubled with hot winds. The

hot winds of "continental" Queensland are always very dry, and are usually accompanied by dust storms.

A FEW introductory remarks on this subject will serve a useful purpose. It will be seen that I have referred to

the alphabetical pentagon of health which is purely a provisional arrangement of my own. It consists of

five headings, which fall naturally into alphabetical order. They are best considered, therefore, in the

This is a convenient method of remembering the five great fundamental principles concerned in the

preservation of health. It will serve, moreover, as a means of impressing them upon the memory, superior to

This very number five, indeed, has a more than ordinary significance belonging to itself. It has been termed a

mystical number. "Five," says Pythagoras, "has peculiar force in expiations. It is everything. It stops the

power of poisons and is redoubted by evil spirits." According to the Pythagorean school of philosophy, the

world is a piece of harmony and man the full chord. The major chord consists of a fundamental or tonic, its

major third and its just fifth. The eighth note, or complement of the octave, is the diapason of man. These are

of course very highly imaginative speculations. It is interesting to remember, however, that the system of

astronomy first taught by Pythagoras was afterwards developed into the solar system by Copernicus, and is

now received as the Copernican system. But, turning from grave to gay, we find that five wits have been

described, viz., common sense, imagination, fantasy, estimation, and memory. Of these, common sense

passes judgment on all things; imagination brings the mind to realise what comes before it; fantasy stimulates

the mind to act; estimation has to do with all that pertains to time, space, locality, etc.; and memory is "the

warder of the brain." Then again, have we not also the five senses of seeing, hearing, feeling, smelling, and

tasting? Have we not likewise five fingers and five toes on either hand and foot? Moreover, is not fives an

ancient and hollowed game, still popular wherever the English language is spoken, and is not its name

derived from its being played with the "bunch of fives," namely the hand? And further, there must be

numbers of Australians who know well what "fivecorners" are. In addition to the foregoing, the number five

has an important historical and legal association in connection with the Code Napole'on. Prior to Napoleon's

time, different ways and customs prevailed in different parts of France, and altogether legal matters were in a

chaotic state. It was greatly to his credit, therefore that he recognised the necessity for the entire alteration

and remodelling of the whole system. But what was more striking than the recognition of the existing, defects

was the speediness with which they were rectified, for the Code Napole'on was devised and actually in

It consisted of five parts, namely the "Code Civil," dealing with the main body of the private law; the "Code

de Proce'dure Civile"; the "Code de Commerce," dealing with the laws relating to commercial affairs; the

"Code d'Instruction Criminelle "; and finally, the "Code Penal." It is recorded that Napoleon was prouder of

this than of his victories. "I shall go down to posterity," he said, "with my Code in my hand." The best proof

of its excellence is that today it remains in force as the law of France (though it has been rechristened the

"Code Civil" under the Republic), and that it has been the model for many Continental Codes, notably

But, leaving, these references to the many associations attached to the number five, it must not be supposed

that my desire is to make people unnecessarily timorous about themselves on the score of health. This is

certainly not my intention, for such a frame of mind would defeat the very object I have in view. Yet there

still remains the fact that a little rational attention is indispensable if the vigour of the body is to be

maintained at its best. There is a very great difference between carefulness carried to extremes in this respect,

on the one head, and a heedlessness and total disregard of personal health, on the other. The golden mean

between these two is the proper knowledge of what is required for the preservation of health, and so much

conformity thereto as will give the best results. And yet it must be remembered that no castiron code can be

laid down which would be applicable to one and all. No; idiosyncrasy, that personal peculiarity which makes

each individual different from every one else, is too potent a factor to be ignored. In matters of this kind, each

one, to a certain extent, is a law unto himself, and, consequently, what agrees and what disagrees is only

discoverable by the individual concerned. In what follows, therefore, I have endeavoured to lay down rules

for guidance which will be beneficial to by far the greatest number; although this element of the ego must

IT has been estimated that the external skin of an ordinary adult is equal to an area of about twelve square

feet, and that in a tall man it may be as much as eighteen square feet. There is a considerable difference

between twelve square feet and twelve feet square, and it is well to mention the fact in order that there may

be no confusion. From this large surface alone, therefore, it is quite easy to see that the skin requires to have

some attention paid to it. But it is really far more important than even its extensive surface would be likely to

indicate, for it fulfils no less than seven different duties. In the first place it serves as an external covering to

the body, and, as we shall see also, the internal skin acts as a support to the internal organs. Secondly, it is

endowed with an extensive system of nerves, which give rise to the sensations of touch, of temperature, of

pressure, and of pain. In this way we can tell whether a substance is rough or smooth, and whether it is hot or

cold; we recognise, moreover, the difference between a gentle pressure of the hand and one so forcible as to

cause pain. Thirdly, the skin, as we shall find farther on, contains thousands of small tubes for the purposes of

perspiration, and besides this, there are other tubes secreting, an oily substance. Fourthly, the skin plays an

important part in regulating the temperature of the body. Thus in a warm atmosphere the skin becomes

reddened and moist, and much heat is lost; on the other hand, when the air is colder the skin becomes pale,

cool, and dry, thus conserving the body heat. Fifthly, the respiratory action of the skin must not be forgotten,

although it is nothing like so great as that of the lungs. Nevertheless quite an appreciable amount of oxygen is

absorbed through the skin, and beyond all question carbonic acid is exhaled from it. Sixthly, it is an

absorbent; that is to say, the skin is capable of absorbing into the body certain substances applied to it. In this

way remedies are often introduced into the system by what is known as inunction. And lastly, the skin is a

great emunctory, and carries off waste matters from the body. Accordingly it acts as a purifier of the blood, in

which it assists the kidneys, intestines, and the lungs. And more than this, it often happens that the turning

point in any disease is announced by a sudden, profuse, and markedly offensive perspiration, as if a

considerable amount of deleterious and noxious matter has suddenly expelled from the system.

From the foregoing it is evident that the skin has many varied and important duties to perform. As we might

expect, moreover, an organ with such functions is of complicated structure. Its component parts, therefore,

deserve to have some little attention paid to them, since the importance of the skin from a health point of

view will then be all the more appreciated. The skin is most conveniently considered under three divisions

the skin itself; the glands, producing perspiration, oil, and hair, which are found within it; and the appendages

belonging to it, the hair and the nails. The skin itself may be described as the soft and elastic tissue which

invests the whole of the surface of the body, and consists of two layers, the outer or scarf skin, and the deeper

or true skin. The interior of the body is likewise lined with a covering, which is termed mucous membrane,

from the fact that from its surface, or from certain special glands within it, or from both, there is constantly

being secreted a thin semitransparent fluid called mucus. At the various openings of the body, as the mouth,

the nostrils, and other parts, the external and internal skins are continuous with one another. Indeed, at these

apertures the mucous membrane, or internal skin, takes leave of absence from the world to line the cavities

within the body. So that, as Professor Huxley expresses it, "every part of the body might be said to be

contained within the walls of a double bag, formed by the skin which invests the outside of the body, and the

The use of the scarf skin is manifestly to protect the more delicate true skin, while at the same time it allows

the waste products and usedup material to escape from the body. In the substance of the true skin are

thousands of minute little bodies called papillae, which are specially concerned in the sense of touch, for the

vast majority of these papillae contain the end of a small nerve. The numberless fine ridges seen on the

palmar surface of the hands and fingers, and on the soles of the feet, are really rows of these papillae, covered

of course by the layers of the outer skin. The supply of blood to the skin is also very plenteous, each of its

innumerable papillae being abundantly supplied in this respect. As a proof of the amount of blood circulating

within the skin, and of its extensive nerve supply, it is only necessary to mention the fact that the finest

needle cannot be passed into it without drawing blood and inflictingpain. In addition to the foregoing the

skin also contains a countless number of very fine tubes, which penetrate through its layers and open on its

surfaces by minute openings called pores. There are altogether three different varieties of these tubes

distributed throughout the skin, namely, those intended for perspiration; secondly, those which lead from the

oil glands; and lastly, those which enclose each hair of the body. The first of these, which carry away the

perspiration from the body, are very fine, the end away from the surface being coiled up in such a way as to

form a ball or ovalshaped body, constituting the perspiration gland. The tube itself is also twisted like a

corkscrew, and widens at its mouth. It is estimated that there are between 2,000 and 3,000 of these

perspiration tubes in every square inch of the skin. Now, as we have already seen, the external skin of an

ordinary adult is equal to an area of about twelve square feet, and in a tall person it may be as much as

eighteen square feet. The number of these tubes, therefore, in the whole body will be many hundreds of

thousands, so that it will readily be seen how exceedingly important it is that they should be kept in thorough

working order by cleanliness. The two great purposes fulfilled by the perspiration are the removal by its

means of wornout or effete material which is injurious to the system, and the regulation of the heat of the

body by its influence. When it is stopped by any reason, such as catarrh or disease, the skin fails in its work,

and the noxious matters, instead of being expelled from the body, are thrown back into the system. Hence

there is a good deal of truth in the belief that a freely acting skin is always a safeguard against disease.

The second variety of tubes, those which furnish an oilylike fluid to the skin, resemble in great part those

which serve for the office of perspiration. At the extremity away from the surface of the body, each one has a

gland, the oil gland, which secretes the oily material. The pores or outlets which open on the skin, however,

are a good deal larger than the similar orifices of the perspiratory tubes, but they are not distributed so equally

throughout the body. In certain parts of the skin they are especially numerous, as on the nose, head, ears, and

back of the shoulders. The unctuous matter which is secreted by these oil glands is intended to keep the skin

moist and pliant, to prevent the too rapid evaporation of moisture from the surface, and to act as a lubricant

where the folds of the skin are in contact with each other. At times in these oil tubes the contents extend to

the opening on its surface; the part in contact with the air then becomes darkened, and forms the little black

spots so frequently seen on the face of some persons. The white, greasy matter which is thus contained within

the tubes can often be squeezed out with the fingers or a watch key, and on account of its shape and black end

The tube into which each hair of the body is inserted differs materially from the two preceding, in that its

function is more restricted. It serves to form a sort of sheath which contains each hair, and is called the hair

follicle. Usually one of the last described ducts opens directly on the side of the hair follicle, and its secretion

serves the purpose of keeping the hair pliant. It will be more convenient, however, to enter into a fuller

description of the hair and hair follicle when be come to speak of the hair, the nails, and the teeth.

Having thus gained some knowledge of the structure of the skin, and of its delicate formation, it will be the

more readily understood why strict attention to the bath is necessary to produce a healthy frame. There is a

continual new growth of scarf skin going on, and there are likewise the secretions from the perspiration ducts

and oil tubes being poured forth. The outer skin which has served its purpose is being incessantly cast off in

the form of whitish looking powder, but instead of being thrown clear from the body it clings to it and

becomes entangled with the perspiration and oily material, thus forming an impediment to the free action of

the skin. If the pores of the latter be obstructed and occluded in this manner, the impurities which should be

removed from the system cannot escape, and have therefore to be expelled by some other channel. Hence the

work of removing this impure and deleterious material is thrown upon the liver, bowels, or kidneys, and often

results in their disease. In our warm climate, where the skin acts more freely than it does in colder latitudes,

the use of the bath is certainly indispensable, if the health of the body is to be maintained at all.

The cold bath, at any rate during the summer months, should always be there before breakfast, but in the

cooler part of the year the shock may be lessened, if it be desirable, by using tepid water instead of cold. And

since there is, as we have seen, a good deal of oily matter excreted by the skin, it becomes necessary to use

something in addition to water for cleansing purposes, for the latter is unable to displace the greasy collection

by itself. The only thing which will render it easy of removal is soap, as by its action it softens the oily

material and dislodges it from the skin. Soap has acquired an evil reputation which it certainly does not

deserve, and if it disagrees it is either due to the fact of its being an inferior article, or else the skin itself must

be at fault. The best soap to use is the white, not the mottled, Castile, as it is made from pure olive oil. By the

proper and judicious use of soap the skin is kept soft and natural, and the complexion is maintained in the hue

Even in the matter of washing the face, there is a right way and a wrong way of doing it. The basin should be

moderately filled with water and the face dipped into it, and then the hands. The latter are to be next well

lathered with soap, and gently rubbed all over the face, following into the different depressions, such as the

inner corners of the eyes and behind the ears. It is quite a mistake, however, to apply the lather to the inside

of the ears, as it seems to favour the formation of wax; the different depressions and canal of the ears can be

very well cleaned by means of the finger tips moistened with water. The face is then to be dipped into the

water a second time and thoroughly rinsed, but it is better to pour away the soapy water for the rinsing. Many

people apply the soap to the face by means of a sponge or bit of flannel, and do not wash the soap thoroughly

off with fresh water before drying with a towel. The hands unquestionably make the softest and most delicate

means of bringing the lather completely into contact with the surface of the skin and, besides this, the amount

of pressure to be applied can also be regulated to a nicety. The face and neck should always be carefully and

thoroughly dried by means of a suitable towel. But for the ears something of a softer material, such as a clean

handkerchief, is more convenient in following out the various hollows and the canal itself.

Many houses, and fairly sized houses too, are destitute of a bath, and if there is no room for the erection of

one, or if the means for having it built are not forthcoming, it becomes necessary to see what cheap and

efficient substitute can be made. A sponge bath, or large tub, with a bucket of water and a goodsized

sponge, can readily be obtained, even in the most humble dwelling, and answers as well as can be wished.

When the body is simply sponged over with tepid water it makes one of the mildest baths that can be taken;

but those who are in ordinary health can well lather them selves over with soap and cold water, and then wash

Next in order to the sponge bath comes the plunge bath, and with either of them the face should always be

washed first, in the manner previously directed, so as to prevent a rush of blood to the head. In taking a bath,

whether it be the sponge or the plunge bath, plenty of water should always be dashed over the front of the

chest, for it makes one hardier and less susceptible to the effects of cold. In fact, besides acting as a

preventive to attacks of common cold, it really strengthens the lungs, and renders the body more capable of

resisting disease. If in addition a little cold water is habitually sniffed up the nostrils at the time of taking the

bath it will have many a cold in the head. After coming out of the bath the towels should always be used to

thoroughly dry the body, and it is certainly better to have two for the purpose. The two towels should be

sufficiently large in size, at least five feet in length and of ample width; anything smaller is altogether useless.

One of them should be of some soft absorbing material so as to thoroughly dry the body, while the other

should be rougher, to use with friction to the skin. In fact, this rubbing down with the rougher towel is in

some respects the most important part of the bath, and there should always be enough friction to get the skin

into a glow. If there is not this feeling of reaction, but a decided chilliness, it is a sure sign that the bath is not

agreeing, and one with tepid water must be substituted, or else it will have to be stopped altogether for a time.

But although there may be a certain proportion of people whom the cold bath does not benefit, yet I am fully

convinced that the number is comparatively speaking small. A good many make the excuse that they cannot

take it, while all the time laziness is the real trouble. Once the advantages derived from the cold bath are

experienced, all the objections raised vanish into thin air. Not only is there that feeling of exhilaration which

abides with those who habitually employ it, but it is to be remembered that its greatest value consists in the

immunity which it confers against diseases of the catarrhal type. The effect of the cold bath is to give tone to

the whole system, and to brace up the body. But it does more than this; by maintaining the functional activity

of the skin, the liability to catch cold is greatly lessened. There are many explanations given of the

phenomena which occur in "taking cold." They are believed, however, to arise from a disturbance of the

heatproducing forces of the body. As it has been already pointed out, the skin is the great

temperatureregulator of the body. Accordingly this latter allimportant duty is best promoted by keeping the

functional activity of the skin in full swing. The prevention of catarrh means, therefore, a healthy action of

the skin, and for this nothing is so good as the daily cold bath. The praises of the latter are well sung in the

following extract: "Those who desire to pass the short time of life in good health ought often to use cold

bathing, for I call scarce express in words how much benefit may be had by cold baths; for they who use

them, although almost spent with old age, have a strong and compact pulse and a florid colour in their face,

they are very active and strong, their appetite and digestion are vigorous, their senses are perfect and exact,

The beneficial effects which follow the daily cold bath have been thus dwelt upon because I believe that in

Australia the greatest good to the greatest number would follow its use. At the same time, however, it is

necessary to remember that there are some persons, and some even apparently robust persons, who can never

take them. Such baths, also, are injurious to those who are pale and bloodless, or those who suffer from a

tendency to congestion of the internal organs excepting under medical advice. And, in addition, it must

also be remembered that warm baths have claims for consideration from a cleansing point of view, and a few

words upon them in this respect will not be thrown away. Now, the daily use of the cold bath, together with

the assiduous application of soap, may be sufficient to keep the skin cleansed from impurities. Yet as a matter

of fact this will the more certainly be ensured by a weekly or, better still, biweekly warm cleansing

bath. The best time to take it is before bedtime, so that there is no risk of taking a chill afterwards. After the

body has been well lathered over with soap, and this has been thoroughly washed off, the cleansing process

may be then considered as completed. It is next recommended that two handsful of common salt should be

added to the warm water, and the body steeped therein for a minute or two. The particles of salt pass into the

skin so firmly that they cannot be removed even by the most vigorous rubbing. In this way the functions of

the skin are stimulated to a considerable degree; the process of nutrition throughout the body greatly

promoted; and the liver roused to action. From this it is easy to understand why hot seawater baths are so

There is another effect of the warm bath which deserves to be well remembered, for it has an historical

association. It is related of the great Napoleon, that after a day's fighting, instead of indulging in a night's rest,

he would take a warm bath. It was so efficacious that he was enabled to begin his exertions almost

immediately. The explanation of this lies in the fact that when the mascles are tired out and the vigour of the

body diminished, the hot bath rouses the circulation and renews the wornout tissues. In the same way, after

a night's dancing, twenty minutes or so in a warm bath, and a couple of hours' sleep, will be almost as good as

a whole night's rest. In addition to the foregoing, however, it must not be forgotten that the warm bath, or to

speak more correctly the hot bath, is a true medicinal agent. It is used in many cases of disease, especially

those in which the skin is inactive. A feverish cold is often nipped in the bud by a hot bath at bedtime; a free

perspiration usually follows, and thus relief is obtained. In some forms of rheumatism and gout, too, the hot

bath is of signal benefit. There are many cases of a spasmodic nature, also, in which it is of great value. At

the same time it must be borne in mind that the hot bath, when used to an excess, tends to induce a debilitated

The loss of hair is so frequent in Australia, at least amongst the male population, that it requires a little

consideration; and apart altogether from this, the whole subject is one of extreme interest, so that some

reference to the actual structure of the hair and the hairfollicles is called for. The roots of the hair are formed

in the hairfollicles, which may be described as little pearshaped bags, formed either in the true skin or in

the cellular tissue beneath it. Each hairfollicle, hairsac, or hairpit, as it is variously termed, bulges out at

its deeper part, contracting to a long narrow neck as it passes to its skin. Near the surface of the latter the

follicle widens out again, and it is from this part that the hair emerges. As it has been previously mentioned, a

duct from one of the oil glands usually opens into each follicle. At its very bottom, also, is the papillae or

little moundlike elevation. This protrudes into the follicle, and from it the hair is formed.

The blood supply for the hair is very abundant. There is a complete system of blood vessels encircling every

one of the follicles, and besides this each papilla has a special distribution of blood to itself. That part of the

hair lying within the hairfollicle is called the root. The lower end of the root, which swells out into a knob,

named the bulb, is concave in shape underneath, so as to fit on top of the projecting papilla. The shaft is the

By the aid of the microscope it may be seen that the hair itself on the outside is covered by a layer of scales

the cuticle overlapping one another like the tiles on the roof of a house. Beneath the cuticle is the

fibrous part, consisting of many cells closely packed together. In many instances the fibrous part takes up the

whole interior, but in the centre of the coarser hair there is the medulla or pith, composed of very minute

cells. From this it follows that the hair is not a narrow tube, as is commonly supposed. This mistake has

arisen from the fact that, when viewed transversely, the colour of the central and outer part of the hair is

Having in this way become acquainted with the actual structure of the hair and of the hairfollicles, it will be

desirable to consider somewhat briefly the management of the former. We have already seen that the skin

requires a good deal of attention in order to ensure the perfection of bodily health. And although the hair does

not fulfil such an important function, yet, on the other hand, it must not be neglected. Even on the score of

appearance alone, it has much claim for attention. Many people would be vastly improved in this way were

they only to visit their hairdresser more frequently. It is very unsightly, to say the least of it, to see the hair

straggling all over the back and sides of the neck, and the beard (if a beard be worn) with a wild, untidy look.

Besides this, in our semitropical climate, a little more care in this respect would be certainly conducive to

But in addition to these considerations, there is another very cogent reason why the hair should be more often

attended to; and it is the fact that if it be kept of an ordinary length, somewhat frequent cutting promotes its

growth. There is more than one reason given as an explanation of this; indeed, there are at least three. In the

first place, the shorter the hair the less it is dragged on in its roots; secondly, its roots are prevented from

becoming blocked at the mouth of the hairfollicles and lastly, the weight of the hair is considerably

lessened. From this it will be obvious that it is not the actual cutting of the hair in itself which is so beneficial

in invigorating its growth, but that, by reason of the cutting, certain results follow which strengthen it greatly.

We have just seen that the accumulations of debris and other material at the roots of the hair are prejudicial to

its growth. It must not be inferred from this, however, that incessant washing of the scalp, by removing these

collections, is a good thing. Now, it is advised by some that the hair should be wetted daily at the same time

the bath is taken. But as a general rule this is a mistake; only those who have a superabundance of natural oil

can afford to carry out such a practice. With the great majority of people it is absolutely detrimental to the

growth of the hair to wash it oftener than once a week. After washing the head, the hair should be thoroughly

dried. Many attacks of neuralgia, especially in the fair sex, are due to the effect of getting into a draught while

There are several points to be borne in mind in connection with the growth and preservation of the hair. With

many persons the scalp is very tender and will not tolerate vigorous brushing. In such instances the brush

should always be a soft one; indeed, a hard brush cannot be recommended under any circumstances. The

teeth of the comb, also, should never be so sharp as to irritate the scalp, nor should they be set too closely

together. A certain amount of brushing is necessary to keep the scalp and hair in healthy action, but it must

never be carried to excess. Singeing the hair is greatly believed in by a number of people, and in some cases it

appears to be of benefit. Many believe that singeing seals up the cut ends of the hair, which they affirm bleed

when cut. This has no foundation in fact, however, for, as it has already been explained, the hair is not a tube.

A hard, unyielding covering for the head is not at all suitable; the lighter and more ventilated the headgear

the better. But, the truth is, a sensible and suitable headcovering for Australian use has yet to be devised.

Thinning of the hair, and even actual baldness, are not unfrequently started by the hard rim of the hat

employed. This mechanically interferes with the supply of blood to the scalp, and thus it is that the crown

As I have previously shown, the hair often suffers from want of natural oil. The investigations of Liebreich

have shown that this is closely allied to lanolin, which is the purified fat of sheep's wool. Moreover, it has

been found that this lanolin is the very best substitute for the former. It is, however, too sticky to be used

alone as a pomade. Accordingly, Dr. Allan Jamieson, of Edinburgh, a very high authority on diseases of the

skin and hair, advises that it should be mixed with oil of sesame in the following proportions: Oil of

This may be conveniently perfumed with a few drops of oil of bergamot, oil of orange blossom, or oil of

rosemary. For the preservation of the hair, therefore, it should be trimmed short; the scalp kept clean, but not

overwashed; and the hair, if naturally dry, lubricated by the foregoing pomade. These must be supplemented,

also, by taking care that the headcovering is not too heating, that the rim of the hat is not too hard, and that

If the thinning of the hair has progressed to a more advanced stage, other measures will have to be adopted.

The most useful application which I know of to restore growth is the following. It is a formula given by

Messrs. Squire, the wellknown chemists of London, and has had an immense sale extending over many

These are to be dissolved together; then add; Rectified spirit .. 3 ounces. Castor oil .. 1 ounce.

As with the pomade, this is best perfumed by the addition of about 20 or 30 drops of oil of bergamot, oil of

lavender, oil of orange flower, or oil of rosemary, as fancy dictates. The bottle should be kept tightly corked,

and a little of the preparation rubbed well into the hairroots daily. If it create any irritation after two or three

days' use, it is best to wash the scalp with a little warm water and soap. The pomade which has been

recommended may be afterwards employed for two or three days till the irritation has subsided, when the

application may be renewed. A better plan still is, from the first, to use the hair restorer on one day, and the

pomade on the next, alternately. This foregoing application is of course not infallible, but it will be found to

From the fact that the nails are in reality appendages of the skin, they are naturally entitled to some brief

consideration. Beneath the nail is the matrix, that part of the true skin from which the nail is formed. The

matrix has not a perfectly smooth surface, but is arranged in 8 scries of parallel ridges with alternating

grooves. The nail is of a rosy pink colour, because it is transparent enough to let the blood, circulating

beneath, be seen through it. Near the root is a little crescentricshaped white portion called the lunula. The

growth of the nail takes place from below. It cannot grow backwards, since it is confined in a groove. But as

the fresh cells form they gradually thrust the whole nail forward, till at last it requires paring. As a matter of

fact, however, the nails really require more attention than they usually receive. The finger nails should be

trimmed into a bow shape, and the corners rounded off, while the skin near the root of the nail, which tends to

grow over the lunula, should be repressed into position by means of any suitable appliance. On the contrary,

those of the feet should be cut squarish in shape, with a hollowedout centre, so as to prevent the nail from

It is not my purpose to enter fully into all the details concerning the teeth, but there are one or two matters of

great importance connected with them which require a few words. There are many people, beginning to get

on in years, perhaps, who have had the misfortune to lose many of their teeth. The first thing that happens is

an inability to masticate their food; and, before long, indigestion sets in, with all the evils attendant on its

train. These unfortunates know that they have indigestion; the pain and discomfort after food tell them that.

They do not know, however, that all their sufferings arise solely from their want of teeth. They begin to lose

flesh, and get altogether in a bad way. But if they can be induced to apply to a competent and skilful dental

surgeon, they are properly fitted with what they require, and the consequence is their sufferings almost

immediately cease. They begin to enjoy their food, and before long their whole appearance is transformed

into one of health. In the opinion of all dental authorities, when the natural teeth are lost, artificial substitutes

It is quite deplorable to see what little interest people take in the preservation of their teeth; even those who

should know better are in too many instances quite as neglectful. But the teeth play a very important part in

the thorough division of food, and if this be not ensured the health is bound to suffer. They should be kept

These two objects are best accomplished by their thorough cleansing with a moderately stiff brush. Too soft a

brush is insufficient for the purposes of removing the accumulations which collect upon the teeth. A

toothpowder or dentifrice of some kind will also be required. One of the simplest, and possibly also one of

the very best, is composed of the following: Powdered borax .. 1/2 an ounce. Powdered orris root .. 1 ounce.

Powdered white Castile soap .. 1/4 of an ounce. Precipitated chalk .. 3 ounces. Oil of cloves .. 2 drops. Oil of

This leaves nothing to be desired, and will be found satisfactory in every respect.

It is customary to dip the toothbrush into water, so as the better to enable it to take up the dentifrice. But it

will be found an advantage if, after dipping the brush into water, it then be rubbed once or twice over a piece

of white Castile soap. It will by this means pick up a larger amount of the powder. The teeth should be

attended to after each meal, although cleansing them the last thing at night is an important duty, never on any

account to be neglected. It must not be imagined, however, that even the foregoing is sufficient. Particles of

food, which the brush fails to remove, collect between the teeth, and, if allowed to remain, ultimately lead on

to decay. This is most likely to occur when the teeth are crowded close together in the jaw. But under all

circumstances, whether the teeth be closely set together, or whether they be more widely apart, a piece of

floss silk should be passed between them daily, so as to remove any adherent particles, and at the same time

Now, if all houses were built in accordance with the requirements of modern sanitary ideas, there would be

but little difficulty in grappling with the problem of bedroom ventilation, for the sleeping apartment would be

a well ventilated room, with all the latest contrivances, such as Tobin's ventilators, for the admission of fresh

air. But as the greater number of people have to live in rented dwellings in which the rooms are very small, it

becomes necessary to know what can be done to remedy existing defects. In the first place the bedroom

should always be upstairs if possible; it is decidedly healthier, and there is a better chance for the supply of

fresh air. The very worst room in the house that could be chosen for a sleeping apartment would be one on

the basement. Then again, a fireplace in the bedroom is a priceless boon, and it is almost impossible to rectify

such a deficiency. But as too many rooms are built without it, we are compelled to look to the window for our

air supply. It is estimated that nearly onethird of every person's life is devoted to sleep; that is to say, about

onethird of it is spent in the sleeping apartment. It is only natural, then, that this room and its surroundings

should merit some special attention. As a matter of fact, from a health point of view, it should receive more

consideration than all the rest of the house put together, for during our waking hours; we are moving about

and constantly changing our location; but during sleep, when life is in abeyance to a certain extent, the

system has passively to receive and be supported by whatever pure air the bedroom happens to possess. If, as

too often is the case, that chamber is looked upon as a sort of cupboard, where, amongst other things, there is

room for a bed, so much the worse for any one who has to sleep there. If the sleeper arises in the morning in a

dazed and semisuffocated state and quite unfitted for the day's work before him, instead of feeling refreshed,

there is no occasion to seek far for the cause. For the mental toiler, also, it is equally important that the period

devoted to the restoration of brain material and the imbibition of a fresh supply of nerve power for the

ensuing day's requirements should be passed under circumstances the most favourable for bestowing them.

From this we see that a due amount of sleep, under favourable circumstances as regards ventilation, is

necessary both for brain and muscle; and that, in fact, unless it be forthcoming, there will be an inability for

either brain worker or muscle user to properly fulfil his duties next day. But in addition to this there is still the

fact that we have to do with the semitropical climate of Australia. It will be as well, therefore, to make

reference to what has been said on the subject as far as India is concerned. Sir Joseph Fayrer, whose opinion

on such matters must always carry respect, in the course of an address on the preservation of health in that

country, went on to say: "It is very important that you have good sleep, for nothing in the hot weather more

refreshes or invigorates you. Early rising is the rule in India, and I advise you to conform to the usual

Sir James Ranald Martin, another authority on Indian affairs, in commenting on the prevention of disease,

also calls attention to the need for extra sleep, which is always required in hot climates. He points out that by

giving the frame a thorough and complete rest from the great stimulus of heat, both tone and vigour are

imparted providing for the requirements of the coming day, as well as repairing those of the preceding. The

general truths contained in the foregoing apply equally to Australia, and during the hot summer months,

therefore, it must not be forgotten that an extra allowance of sleep is quite indispensable.

In a great many cases the space under the bed is regarded as an admirable receptacle for a collection of boxes,

parcels, hatboxes, old boots, and other interesting relics, while they are effectually concealed from view by

a species of curtain reaching from the bed to the floor. The drapery which thus hangs down is dignified by the

name of a "valance," and though originally intended for the purpose of embellishment and ornamentation, it

is better that decorative art should be more limited in its application, so as not to interfere with the free

circulation of air throughout the room. The sleeping apartment is also considered as being particularly well

adapted for the storage of old clothes, and consequently garments of this description are not hidden away, nor

furtively concealed, but are triumphantly exposed to gaze in various parts of the room. Indeed, the more

obtrusive they are, the better the purpose of the bedroom is believed to be served. If it could be only

understood how these unnecessarily occupy the air space of the room, and interfere with its ventilation, this

And while on the subject of the accumulation of useless articles in a bedroom, it seems fitting here to devote

a few words to another kindred matter, namely, the hoarding up throughout the house of what may literally be

designated as lumber. It is astonishing what a number of utterly valueless things are allowed to remain in

nearly every household, and it is well remarked that no one ever knows what a collection of rubbish he

possesses till he has occasion to remove. There may not be much to be ashamed of in the first load or two of

furniture, but at the latter end there is a strong feeling that a dark night would be more adapted for moving

the darker the better. At least every twelve months there should be a regular clearance of wornout articles,

and that miscellaneous collection of odds and ends which can be of no earthly value to anybody, unless he be

Let us now go on to consider what ill effects result from the breathing of vitiated air. In his work, A Manual

of Practical Hygiene, Professor Edmund A. Parkes has pointed out: "When air moderately vitiated by

respiration is breathed for any period and continuously, its effects become complicated with those of other

conditions. But allowing the fullest effect to all other agencies, there is no doubt that the breathing of the

vitiated atmosphere of respiration has a most injurious result on the health. The aeration and nutrition of the

blood seems to be interfered with, and the general tone of the system falls below par. Of special diseases it

appears pretty clear that affections of the lungs are more common." The volume of air inhaled and exhaled by

the adult in the twentyfour hours averages 360 cubic feet, or 2,000 gallons, while the amount we take in the

shape of liquid or solid food does not amount probably to more than 5 1/2 pints, which is equal to only

13000th part of the volume of air passed through the lungs. From this it will be seen how necessary it is that

such a large amount of air should be perfectly fresh and wholesome, for the lungs act as a pair of immense

sponges or absorbers. When the ventilation does not allow of a continuous supply of fresh air it smells close,

and is surcharged with an increased amount of carbonic acid, while the noxious exhalations from the breath

and lungs deposit themselves throughout the room. Nor are the illeffects of impure air confined to man

alone, for it is well known that cows, horses, sheep, and other animals, when penned up in close quarters,

But though it is perfectly plain that badly ventilated sleeping apartments tend greatly to the production of

diseases of the lungs, it is not generally understood by the greater number of persons that diseases of the heart

are brought on by similar conditions, and there is without doubt a great increase of heart diseases at the

present time. It is estimated that upwards of 10,000 people in England alone die yearly from affections of the

heart; yet, taking into consideration the ceaseless work of that organ (in the words of the motto upon Goethe's

ring, "Ohne Rast" without rest), it is wonderful that it is not more frequently diseased. It is said that "the

heart is a small muscular organ weighing only a few ounces, beating perpetually day and night, morning and

evening, summer and winter; and yet often an old man's heart nearly a hundred years of age is as perfect and

The effect of impure air in its action on the heart is thus spoken of by Dr. Cornelius Black: "I showed the

effect of impure air in promoting the degenerative tendency in the structures of the heart, and especially those

of the right side of the heart, after the age of forty. I was then led to a passing consideration of the baneful

influence produced upon the heart by badlyventilated houses, schools, manufactories, pits, theatres,

underground railways, and all places of a similar character." "The impure atmosphere of the bedrooms of the

poor, and indeed of many of the middle class, caused by deficient ventilation, proves a sharp spur to the

degenerative tendency manifested by the heart, and especially by the right side of the heart, after the age of

forty." "I hold that the breathing of impure air is a fruitful source of disease of the right side of the heart

occurring after middle age. How many people ignorantly favour its occurrence by confining themselves to

closely shut, nonventilated, stuffy, sitting rooms, in which the carbonic acid has accumulated to a poisonous

degree in the air they respire! How are these evil results to be prevented? The simple answer is, let the rooms

in which you live be effectively ventilated by an incoming current of fresh air, and so arranged that no

Sanitarians who have devoted a good deal of time and study to the working out of questions relating to the

amount of fresh air in bedrooms have decided that each person should, if possible, have at least 1,000 cubic

feet of space, or in other words, the same amount contained in a room 10 feet long, 10 feet wide, and 10 feet

high. It is also estimated that the amount of fresh air entering into a room of this size should be 3,000 cubic

feet per hour, that is, the air in each room should be completely changed three times every hour. These

observations of course apply only to the least amount of air which every sleeper is strictly entitled to. As a

matter of fact, however, any more than this is simply of distinct advantage as far as health is concerned. The

bedroom, instead of being the smallest room in the house, as it too often is, should be really the very largest.

Now it has been previously stated that foul or vitiated air collects in a sleeping apartment unless there be a

continuous circulation of fresh air; and that the noxious exhalations from the breath and skin constitute the

chief sources of air pollution. The practical point to discover is how to have this continuous circulation of

fresh air throughout the room without causing a draught. Before considering this, a few words on the position

of the bed itself will possibly be appropriate. It is always better to have it standing more in the centre of the

room with its head against the wall, than to have it jammed alongside the latter. And it certainly should have

placed north and south if the shape of the room admits of it. The wirewove mattress is of great advantage

both for comfort and for coolness; and here in Australia, during the summer months, proper mosquito

nettings are as necessary as the bed itself. If the bed is provided with a headpiece, as it should be, there is no

Every bedroom window should be made to open freely, and what other defects exist such as the smallness

of the apartment, or the absence of a fireplace can be remedied to a great extent by means of the window.

In many instances the bed is placed so near the latter that when it is open there is a strong draught playing

directly on the bed, and this is an evil which must be avoided. In such case, to rectify matters, raise the

bottom window a few inches, and have a piece of board made to fit in under it, so as to support the sash and

fill in the space between it and the sill. The air freely enters the room between the two sashes, because the top

of the lower sash is by this contrivance raised above the lower part of the upper one. Another great advantage

is that the air is directed upwards to the ceiling by having to come in over the lower sash, and thus a gentle

current of fresh air is constantly being circulated throughout the room without creating any draught. There are

other devices to attain the same end, such as having apertures cut in the glass of the windows, but they are not

so effective, so inexpensive, nor so simple as the preceding. In bedrooms there are the long French windows

leading on to a balcony, and where such is the case the air current can be regulated to a nicety by having only

one of the windowdoors open, and directing the ventilation away from the bed. Many people prefer to sleep

with the door itself open, and by having a portiere or certain suspended outside, privacy can be ensured, while

an upright screen standing at the head of the bed will effectually ward off any cold currents of air. In our

summer weather there is but little difficulty experienced in regulating the air supply, for there is generally a

desire to have as much fresh air as possible. Far too many people, however, look upon the bedroom in the

light of an oven, where they are to be baked during the hours of repose, and this is the case even during the

summer. In the cooler parts of the year they are apt to forget there is just as much necessity for fresh air as in

Soiled or dirty clothes should not on any account be allowed to remain in the sleeping apartments, as they are

a constant source of foulness to the air. All unclean linen ready for the wash had better be kept away from the

bedroom in one of those long baskets which stand upright and are furnished with a lid. They are admirably

adapted for the purpose, and may be obtained for a few shillings from any of the institutions for the blind,

where they are made by the inmates. A word of advice, by the way, to those about to travel on a long voyage,

is never to forget one of those canvas bags for the soiled clothes: they are invaluable at sea.

IT is worth considering somewhat minutely what are the requisites of perfect clothing, and what properties

our different kinds of wearing apparel possess. Without doubt any reflection on the question of what is

usually worn and what ought to be worn is not only of considerable interest generally, but of great moment

likewise from a health point of view. It cannot be maintained too strongly that the question of the proper

material for a suitable covering for the body takes a footing nearly equal to the very important one of diet

itself. Now, there is no form of clothing which on its own account creates heat, or has the property of

bestowing warmth upon the body, but the difference in it consists in its power of preventing the escape of the

body heat. These qualities in the different varieties of wearing apparel will depend to a great extent upon the

thickness of the materials, and also upon the varying power which they possess in detaining air within their

meshes. It is this latter property of retaining the air, which is warmed by contact with the body, in their

interstices, which constitutes the great difference in the various clothing materials. This is also an explanation

of the wellknown fact that loose garments are always warmer than tightly fitting ones, for in the former

there is the layer of warm air in contact with the body, which has no opportunity for existing in the latter. In

the same way two or three layers of undergarments will always be warmer than a single one, equal to their

combined thickness, since there is a separate layer of air between each of the thinner ones.

All the differences in the various fabrics are due in chief part to the properties of heat. The ordinary or normal

temperature of the human body is between 98� and 99 � Fahrenheit, while that of the air will vary

considerably, according to the climate and locality. Each individual, therefore, must be regarded as a

material, though living, object which is enveloped in a surrounding atmosphere. As such, heat will conform

to certain fixed laws in its relations to the two bodies. It is always a definite fact that when two bodies in

contact with each other are of different temperatures, they tend to become of equal temperature. The warmer

will part with its heat to the cooler, and the latter will in like manner reduce the temperature of the former. By

covering, then, the surface of the body, it is prevented from giving its heat directly to the air, for the clothes

In the second place the clothes prevent a too rapid escape of heat from the body, and by keeping a layer of

warm air in contact with the skin, they preserve the body heat. Again, the various materials used to clothe the

body vary much as to the readiness with which they conduct heat; accordingly we speak of good and bad

conductors of heat. A bad conductor, such as wool, will keep the heat of the body from escaping to the sir,

and thus forms warm clothing, while a good conductor like cotton will lead away the heat quickly and prove

As said before, the texture of the material that is, the size of its meshes which allows air to pass more or

less freely through it, also exercises a greater effect upon clothing. No healthy clothing is absolutely

airproof, the access of the air through it being necessary to our health and comfort. Thus oilskin and

mackintosh, which are airtight as well as watertight, make most people feel very uncomfortable.

In addition to their texture or permeability to air, and to their conducting or noncontracting powers, fabrics

also vary according to their hygroscopic qualities. By hygroscopic is meant the power of absorbing moisture;

thus a thin flannel is one of the coolest materials we can have, for it absorbs perspiration; while linen, which

is nonhydroscopic, when moist allows the fluid to evaporate rapidly, and thus cools the body too quickly,

and therefore dangerously. Hence flannel is a most suitable fabric in which to take exercise, as there is less

There are four chief materials to be considered in connection with clothing, namely cotton and linen, which

belong to the vegetable kingdom, and silk and wool, which are obtained from the animal world. These four,

either in their own form or else in combination with each other, such as merino, constitute most of our

wearing apparel. Cotton is the fine, soft, downy material of a hairy nature which is found on the seeds of a

certain plant, the cotton plant, which belongs to the mallow family. Its fibres are flattened in shape, and are

twisted at intervals. The form of the fibres has an important effect in the action of cotton material on the skin.

Being of a flattened shape, they have sharp edges, which in delicate skins are apt to cause irritation. Cotton

wears well, it is not absorbent of moisture nearly to the same extent as linen, nor does it conduct away the

heat of the body so quickly as the latter, hence it is a warmer material than linen. On the other hand, it does

not retain the heat against the body like wool, and is an appropriate material for dress in hot climates. In

merino there is a mixture of about onefifth to onehalf part of wool with cotton.

Linen, the other product of the vegetable kingdom, is obtained from the fibres of the common flax. Its fibres,

unlike those of other fabrics, are distinguished by their roundness and their freedom from stiffness. These

properties give to it that peculiar softness which makes it so agreeable to the feel, and comforting and

soothing to the skin. But, on the other hand, it has certain characters which are a drawback. As was stated

before, it differs from cotton in that it is cooler, but unfortunately it absorbs moisture from the body quickly,

and becomes saturated with perspiration. This is removed so quickly by the action of the external air, causing

The next material in alphabetical order is silk, and it is also the first product of the animal world to be

considered. As is well known, it is obtained from the cocoon of the silkworm. The fibres of this material are

round in shape like those of linen, and they are even softer than the latter. On this account the phrase "as soft

as silk" has passed into a saying. It is softer to the feel than either cotton or linen, and is a bad conductor of

heat, as it has little tendency to remove the heat from the body. It is therefore a warmer material than either of

them; but, on the other hand, from some peculiar action caused by the slightest friction against the skin, it

seems at times to cause irritation, and draw the blood to the surface. In many instances the flow of blood is 80

severe as to set up an eruption of the skin, and there is often so much irritation and intolerable itching

Last, but not least, of the quartette under consideration comes wool, and it is just one of those materials

whose place it would be almost impossible to fill. It is obtained from the sheep, and is one of our chief

productions in Australia. Unfortunately it is somewhat irritating to some skins, and many persons will declare

that they cannot bear the feeling of anything woollen. Another objection may be taken to it on cosmetic

grounds, and it certainly is difficult to make a flannel garment look attractive; but still, with a little taste in the

way of bordering, this may be overcome to a great extent. On the other hand, it has great advantages which

Having thus minutely and scientifically examined into the properties of the various clothing materials, it will

clearly be seen that the one which possesses the greatest advantages with the least possible disadvantages is

wool. Hence it is to be chosen in preference to all other fabrics for wearing next the skin, because it wards off

all risk of a chill striking the body. Its disadvantages, as said before, are mainly two, the first being that some

declare it is impossible to wear it next the skin on account of its causing irritation; this, however, can only

apply to new flannel, since after two or three washings it feels as smooth as the most fastidious skin could

desire. The next objection, that it cannot be made to look attractive or ornamental, is to a certain extent true;

but if it is simply a question of health versus appearance, those who would sacrifice the former deserve to

suffer. In this matter we may learn a wrinkle from a practical class of men, namely, sailors. One will find

many of them pin their faith on the virtues of an abdominal flannel bandage, reaching from the lower part of

the chest well down to the hips. It thus covers the loins and abdomen, and for warding off attacks of lumbago

and muscular rheumatism, and for protecting the kidneys, it certainly is valuable.

A flannel undergarment reaching from the neck well down to the hips should always be worn, and in

summer it may be of a thinner material than in the cooler weather. It is better to have four made, so that two

can be washed at a time. In this way two can be in use every week, changing them day by day, so that one is

getting thoroughly aired while the other is being worn. The one which is being aired should be turned inside

out, so that the part which has been in contact with the skin becomes thoroughly purified. It must be

remembered, however, that flannel is very liable to shrink from repeated washings. This may be provided for

by taking care that the undergarment, when first obtained, is several sizes too large. In fact, it can hardly be

too large at first, especially in the case of the thicker one for the cooler months, which shrinks much more

proportionately than does the thinner one for the hot season. This shrinking, however, can to a great extent be

presented by paying attention to the following points: These woollen undergarments should be washed by

themselves not with any other clothes, in only moderately hot water. Next, while they are still damp, and

before becoming dry, they should be thoroughly stretched upon a table and then well ironed out.

With regard to the sleeping apparel, there is no doubt the modern pyjamas are a great improvement on the

oldfashioned bedgown. They are more thoroughly protective to the skin, and keep the extremities uniformly

warm, which the latter fails to do. They are better made of flannel, thin in summer and thicker in winter.

Persons who are in the habit of wearing woollen material next the skin during the day should certainly keep

to the same at night, otherwise the change is too great, and there is thus great risk of taking a chill. The

flannel undergarment which has been worn during the day can then be taken off at night without any

danger, and has the opportunity of being aired. It might hardly seem necessary to refer to this fact, namely,

that the undergarment which has been worn during the day should be taken off at night. Yet I can only say

that instances in which this particular garment is never taken off at all, but is worn continuously both night

and day, perhaps for a whole week at a time, are not altogether so rare as they might be.

In conclusion reference may be briefly made to a subject which is probably within the experience of

everyone. There ale many people who pride themselves on not requiring any extra clothing during the colder

months, and evidently look upon this fact as a proof that they possess Spartan powers of endurance, and that

cold is a matter of perfect indifference to them. Now, it may be that a few individuals differ essentially from

the rest of humanity, and do not require any change of clothing all the year round. But the majority of people

who profess this disregard to climate certainly appear as if they would be all the better for warmer material,

for their faces look pinched and their hands seem nearly frozen with the cold. But the fact is that even if the

want of thicker clothing is not particularly felt during the cold weather, it is always wiser to wear an extra

allowance, for the heat of summer can be endured better if this principle is carried out. If a commonsense

view of the matter is taken, then it will be readily apparent why it is desirable to wear plenty of warm

THE larger part of this work is taken up with a consideration of the most suitable diet for those living in

Australia. In this way a greater restriction in the amount of butcher's meat is counselled, while a more widely

extended use of fish, vegetables, and salad plants is advocated. And as far as beverages are concerned,

Australian wine of a low alcoholic strength is recommended as being the most natural beverage for

everyday use. But there are a few other matters connected with food, and drink, and daily habits which will

deserve some little reference, and accordingly they will be dealt with. These are fruit, tea, coffee, iced drinks,

and the use of tobacco. All these are important enough to merit notice; indeed, they are subjects possessing

Before proceeding to give attention to these, however, it will be most convenient, at this stage, to make some

remarks upon the vital topic of the first meal of the day. With the great bulk of our population sufficient heed

is never given it, and yet it is of infinite consequence. By far the greater number of people dawdle in bed till

the last possible moment, when all at once they jump into their bath that is, if they take a bath swallow a

hasty breakfast, and make a frantic rush for their steamer, train, or tram, in order to begin their daily work.

How very much better than all this bustle, hurry, and scuttle an hour's earlier rising would be! It would afford

ample time for the bath, which should be a bath in the truest sense of the term; it would, above all, give a

proper opportunity for a leisurely breakfast, which is in every respect the most important meal of the day; and

lastly, it would save that wild dash at the last, which is so fatal to proper digestion and wellbeing.

But it is a sad fact that, in most cases, even when there is due time given to it, the monotony of the ordinary

breakfast is almost proverbial. With regard to the average household it is a matter of deep conjecture as to

what most people would do if a prohibition were placed upon chops, steak, and sausages for breakfast. If such

an awful calamity happened, many the father of a family would have to put up with scanty fare. It is very

much to be feared that the inability to conceive of something more original for the morning meal than the

eternal trio referred to is a melancholy reproach to the housekeeping capabilities of many. To read an account

of a highland breakfast, in contradistinction to this paucity of comestibles, is to make one almost pensive. The

description of the snowy tablecloth, the generously loaded table, the delicious smell of the scones and honey,

the marmalade, the different cakes, the fish, the bacon, and the toast, is enough to create a desire to dwell

there for a very prolonged period. However, revenons a' nos moutons; this has been adverted to, not so much

with the idea of urging people to copy such an example, because expense would render it an impossibility,

but to try and awaken a determination to make more variety at the breakfast table. It is to be hoped that some

of the recipes at the end of the volume will serve as a means of initiating a reform in this respect.

But under all circumstances, whether brain or muscle be employed by the breadwinner, a substantial

breakfast is of firstrate importance. There is one form of food which it is especially necessary should

constitute part of the meal, and which must be referred to. This is that variety known as the hydrocarbons or

fats. The value of fat, in any of its many forms, in promoting the health of the body and preventing the onset

of wasting diseases is hardly appreciated, and besides this action it markedly serves to nourish the brain and

nervous system. Dr. Murchison, the late eminent physician, was wont to declare that bacon fat or ham fat was

worth a guinea an ounce in the treatment of wasting diseases. Cod liver oil, also, has a wide repute in the

treatment of the same class of maladies. Indeed, it is related of an eminent barrister that he used to take a full

dose of cod liver oil some time before going to plead an important case, for he found it better brain food than

In our semitropical climate, however, a dislike is often taken to butter when it is presented at breakfast in

the form of semiliquid grease. It would require a person with the stomach of an ostrich to digest, to say

nothing of relish, such an oleaginous compound during our hot months. But if this necessary and

allimportant article of diet can be presented in an appetising shape, what a desirable result is achieved I The

mass of the people I am not referring to those who are well endowed with worldly gifts are apt to look

upon the ice chest as a luxury which is altogether beyond their means. But, as I have said elsewhere, I am

firmly persuaded that if the price of ice were brought down to onehalfpenny per pound, and if a company

were formed to deliver such a small quantity as six pounds per day, or every second day, it would be a great

boon, and moreover a wonderfully profitable speculation. A very small and suitable ice chest could be

constructed, to sell at a few shillings, solely to preserve the butter in a congealed, and therefore palatable,

state, for children as well as for adults. The former would take it with great avidity, and the benefit to health

resulting therefrom would be incalculable. Even in some of the betterclass houses ice is looked upon too

much as a luxury, and not, as it should be, a necessity; indeed, the money saved from gas during the summer

Not only is this fatty breakfast a necessary feature in the diet of everybody, particularly of the young and

growing population, but it is likewise a most important matter with all brain workers. If the business or

professional man can put in a liberal breakfast, consisting largely of butter, fat bacon or ham, he can go on all

day with a feeling of energy and buoyancy. It is in this aversion to fatty matter, in any shape or form, that the

bilious and dyspeptic are so fearfully handicapped. And not only is it necessary for an active mental worker

to be supplied with a good proportion of fatty material, but, as I have just said, it is essential that his breakfast

should be a substantial one, in which his food is not stinted in any way. As Dr. Milner Fothergill said: "I

would always back a good breakfaster, from a boy to a game cockerel; a good meal to begin the day is a good

foundation." So, too, Mr. Christopher Heath, the wellknown London surgeon, in his advice to house

surgeons and other medical officers living in hospitals, says, "the first symptom of \`knocking up,/' is an

inability to eat breakfast," and goes on to point out how important a meal it is, and that it should be taken

It is undoubtedly a most fortunate thing for us in Australia that fruit is so abundant, and that it is easily within

the reach of all. There is something wonderfully attractive about it; its colouring in particular appeals so to

the eye that a good show of wellassorted fruit is always certain to ensure attention. Many fruits, moreover,

have a magnificent fragrance which lends to their agreeable taste. It is somewhat of a pity that fruit is not

more ordinarily eaten at meals, particularly with the breakfast. There is an old proverb that fruit is gold in the

morning, silver at noon, and lead at night; and it is undoubtedly a fact that it is especially beneficial when

eaten early in the day. In France, fruit is a constant part of every meal, and there is no question but that such a

proceeding is desirable. It was formerly the custom with English people at regular dinners to have dessert on

the table all through the courses, but it is now more customary to present it at the termination of the repast, so

that it is quite fresh and not saturated with odours absorbed from the soup, fish, etc.

The agreeable qualities of fruits may be said to reside in three different factors. First, there is the proportion

of sugar, gum, pectin, etc., to free acid; next, the proportion of soluble to insoluble matters; and thirdly, the

aroma, which, indeed, is no inconsiderable element therein. This latter quality the aroma, fragrance, or

perfume of fruit is due to the existence of delicate and exquisite ethers. These subtle ethers Are often

accompanied by essential oils, which may render the aroma more penetrating and continued. Those fruits like

the peach, greengage, and mulberry, which almost melt in the mouth, contain a very large amount of soluble

substances. Some fruits, like the peach and apricot, carry but a small amount of sugar as compared with the

free acid they contain. Yet the free acid is not distinctly perceptible, because its taste is covered by a larger

proportion of gum, pectin, and other gelatinous substances. There are other fruits again, such as the currant

and gooseberry, which are markedly acid, because there is only a small amount of gum and pectin, and a

With regard to fruit when eaten in its raw state, the question of ripeness is a most important ones and is

always to be considered; so that whatever views may be entertained as to the dietetic value of ripe fruit, there

is a consensus of opinion on the fact that when unripe it is most injurious. Care must be taken, therefore, to

see that it is perfectly ripe, and no considerations of economy must be allowed to override the fact. At the

same time, though ripeness is a necessary qualification of wholesomeness, yet fruit must not be overripe, as

changes occur which render it undesirable for the system, and thus in avoiding Scylla we may fall into

Charybdis. The skin of fruit should never be eaten, nor should the stones, pips, or seeds be swallowed, as

there is a danger of their accumulating in a small pouch of the bowel known as the vermiform appendix.

Their lodgment in this little pocket is a constant source of peril, and would soon set up an inflammation,

As to the question of the unripeness or overripeness of fruit, the following remarks by Dr. F.W. Pavy, an

acknowledged authority on all that relates to food, and worth recording: "Fruit forms an agreeable and

refreshing kind of food, and, eaten in moderate quantity, exerts a favourable influence as an article of diet. It

is chiefly of service for the carbohydrates, vegetable acids, and alkaline salts it contains. It enjoys, too, in a

high degree, the power of counteracting the unhealthy state found to be induced by too close a restriction to

dried and salted provisions. Whilst advantageous when consumed in moderate quantity, fruit, on the other

hand, proves injurious if eaten in excess. Of a highly succulent nature, and containing free acids and

principles liable to undergo change, it is apt, when ingested out of due proportion to other food, to act as a

disturbing element, and excite derangement of the alimentary canal. This is particularly likely to occur if

eaten either in the unripe or overripe state; in the former case, from the quantity of acid present; in the latter,

from its strong tendency to ferment and decompose within the digestive tract. The prevalence of stomach and

bowel disorders, noticeable during the height of the fruit season, affords proof of the inconveniences that the

The different forms of fruit, and also of vegetables, owe their great value to the fact that they possess

powerful antiscorbutic properties. It will be best and simplest to define the word "antiscorbutic" as "good

against the scurvy." This latter disease is notably dependent on a want of fresh fruit and vegetables in the

dietary, and consequently is more often observed amongst sailors; and though accessory conditions, such as

great privations, bad provisions, or unhealthy surroundings, may predispose to it, yet that which essentially

produces it is the deficiency of the former articles from the food. At the present time it is not nearly so

frequently seen, since, according to the mercantile marine regulations, subject to legislative enactments

passed in 1867, in lieu of vegetables, one ounce of lime juice, sweetened with the same quantity of sugar,

In scurvy there is some great change effected in the blood, and it is as well to refer briefly to the characters

possessed by the latter. The blood as it exists in the body is a red alkaline fluid, having a saltish taste and

possessing quite a noticeable odour. It consists of minute bodies, the corpuscles, immersed in a liquid, the

liquor sanguinis. Salts also enter into its composition, and include the chlorides of potash and soda; the

phosphates of lime, magnesia,and soda; the sulphate of potash, and free soda. Of these the salts of soda

predominate, and the chloride that is, common salt is usually in excess of all the others. The uses of

these salts in the blood are to supply the different tissues with the salts they respectively require, to take part

in maintaining the proper specific gravity and alkaline character of the blood, and to prevent any changes

In scurvy, as mentioned before, the blood seems to undergo some great change, and there are accumulations

of it beneath the skin. The gums become spongy, bleeding on the slightest touch, and the teeth frequently

loosen. Blood often flows from the mouth and nose, or is vomited from the stomach, or is passed through the

bowels. Dr. Garrod advanced the view that scurvy was dependent on a deficiency of potash in the stem, and

that vegetables which contained potash supplied the want. It is questionable, however, whether the disease is

due to this fact alone, since beef tea, which contains a good deal of potash, may be given freely to a scorbutic

patient, yet he fails to recover till proper antiscorbutic diet is supplied. Dr. Ralfe found by experiments that

when acids are injected into the blood, or an excess of acid salts administered, the same changes occur in the

blood as in scurvy. Hence he supposes that the latter disease is caused by a decrease in the alkalinity of the

Now, although characteristic cases of scurvy are as a rule to be met with chiefly in sailors, yet there is no

doubt that an insufficiency of the preceding in the dietary brings about an unhealthy condition of the system.

Many typical examples of this are frequently seen in the patients admitted into our hospitals. They have been

living, perhaps, in isolated districts in the country, where their sole food was mutton and damper, with no

restriction placed on tea and tobacco. As a rule their skin presents evidences of the need of proper diet, for it

looks unhealthy and is often covered with boils. But apart from these cases, which so plainly indicate the

origin of the poor condition of the blood, there are many instances in which, from the want of vegetable food

and fruit, the system becomes greatly deranged. moreover, what is known as the blood being "out of order" is

mostly due to an unsuitable diet, consisting of animal food in excess, and a corresponding deficiency of the

The use of fruit, again, is especially indicated in persons disposed to the formation of uric acid in excess.

When this actually occurs, the system becomes overloaded with deleterious matter, and the blood and body

fluids are then saturated with a materies morbi. This morbific material is best understood by regarding it as

being in an incomplete or halfway stage, in which form it is injurious. But, on the other hand, if it had

proceeded to its final change, the completed product would have been harmless. Indeed, it is as the latter that

it mostly leaves the body in ordinary conditions of health. Well then, the retention within the system of this

incompletely transformed material gives rise to various symptoms. One of them is a bitter or "coppery" taste

in the mouth, notably in the early morning. Oftentimes, too, patients will complain that they do not feel at all

refreshed on rising, even when they have slept fairly well which does not happen too frequently. There

may be also a great tendency to drowsiness, accompanied by severe pains in the limbs, coming on about an

hour after meals. Other symptoms which are commonly met with are great irritability of the temper and

lowness of spirits. There is frequently a headache of a peculiar kind. It comes on generally in the morning,

and may last all day, or even for several days. It is a dull, heavy pain, felt most often in the forehead. A

curious feature of the affection which sometimes exists is an incontrollable desire to grind the teeth during the

waking hours. There are other symptoms, also, characteristic of the same malady, namely, palpitation of the

heart and intermittency of the pulse; a liability to colds on the chest; and perhaps repeated attacks of difficulty

in breathing. From all this it follows that a more liberal supply of fruit for such individuals would be followed

by the most beneficial results and their children might well be taught to follow their example. For it must be

remembered that all fruits contain alkaline salts which are good for the blood. These alkaline vegetable salts

become changed within the body, and converted into the carbonate of the alkali, in which latter form they

But before finally closing this portion it is necessary to say a few words about olives, from which the famous

olive oil is obtained, and indeed with regard to their virtues nearly a volume might be written. With many

people the olive, like the tomato, is an acquired taste, and unfortunately too many fail to overcome their first

impressions; but it is certainly worth acquiring, even if the process takes a long time and requires much

perseverance, on account of its highly nutritive value. Children are often very fond of olives, and persistent

efforts should be made to induce those who do not like them to overcome their aversion. We speak of

"French olives" and "Spanish olives"; the former are gathered young, and are small and hard, while the latter

are allowed to remain till a later period of growth, when they become softer and more pulpy. The French

olives are more piquant in flavour than the larger kind. They are also better to eat as a fruit, though many

prefer the Spanish, and are sometimes employed to clear the palate before drinking wines. The larger or

Spanish olives are more adapted for cooking, as in the dish known as beef olives, and also for salads. There

must be no misconception as to the name French or Spanish as applied to olives; it does not refer to the

country from which they are derived, but simply serves to indicate that they are taken from the tree at a

particular time in accordance with the habit observed in the respective countries. The mode of preparing the

olives as they reach us is as follows: They have been gathered when green, and soaked first of all in strong

lye that is, water saturated with alkaline salt, obtained by steeping wood ashes in the former. They are

next soaked in fresh water to remove the somewhat acrid and bitter taste, and are then bottled in a solution of

salt and water. Ordinarily they are presented at table in a dish or other suitable vessel, with a little of the

liquid in which they have been preserved. In conclusion it may be added that olives form an historical dish,

for we are told that the supper of Milton the poet consisted usually of bread and butter and olives.

Tea, with which we are all so familiar, is in reality a number of dried rolled leaves of the tea plant, Camellia

Thea, cultivated chiefly in China and the contiguous countries. It is used excessively throughout Australasia

for has it not been shown that our four million people use more of this beverage than the millions who

inhabit Continental Europe, if Russia be excepted? This fact is much to be deplored, for when taken in excess

it causes severe functional derangement of the digestive organs, and prejudicially affects the nervous system.

The gentler sex are greatly given to extravagant teadrinking, exceeding all bounds of moderation in this

respect. Many of them, moreover, live absolutely on nothing else but tea and bread and butter. What wonder,

then, that they grow pale and bloodless; that their muscles turn soft and flabby; that their nervous system

becomes shattered; and that they suffer the agonies of indigestion? Their favourite time for a chat and the

consumption of tea is at any period between ten o'clock in the morning and three in the afternoon. Now, if

there is anything of which I am certain, it is that tea in the middle of the day, say from ten o'clock to three, is

a deadly destructive fluid. And I am equally certain, too, that innumerable numbers of young girls employed

in business do themselves an irreparable amount of injury by making their midday meal consist of nothing

else but tea and a little bread and butter. There is no nourishment whatever in such fare, and it inevitably

leads to the bad symptoms already detailed and general unhealthiness, if not to the onset of graver disease.

No, they require something which is nutritious, such as a little warm soup of some kind, a modicum of bread,

and say two different varieties of vegetables to follow. Of course this may be extended to include pudding,

stewed fruit, but the former is ample enough in many respects. This is a very important matter to which the

attention of proprietors and managers of large establishments, factories, and other places employing many

female hands might well be directed. And, moreover, if ever there was an opportunity for an active

organization to achieve really valuable work, it would be in seeing that our city girls had something better to

As in every other case, however, there is all the difference in the world between the use of anything and its

abuse. It is wrong to assume that, because a great deal of something is injurious, a small quantity judiciously

employed is equally pernicious. And so it is even in the case of tea, for it is not to be denied that a fragrant

cup of tea is very agreeable. As Dr. Vivian Poore most appropriately remarked in reply to the argument that

the lower animals did not require tea, coffee, "We are not lower animals; we have minds as well as bodies;

and since these substances have the property of enabling us to bear our worries and fatigues, let us accept

them, make rational use of them, and be thankful." Of course everything hinges upon the correct

interpretation of the terms "small" quantity, and "judiciously" employed. It may be said, however, that the

drinking of large cups of tea is never to be sanctioned under ally circumstances whatever. It should rather be

looked upon as a delicate fluid to be imbibed only in very small quantities. It should certainly not be used in

the middle of the day, between those hours which I have specified; nor should it be taken during the evening,

There was a great controversy as to the proper way of making tea in the medical papers not very long ago. It

is of course a perennial topic, and always excites considerable interest. This particular discussion began in

this way. A new teapot, called the antitannic teapot, appeared on the scene, and was favoured with a long

description by the British Medical Journal. It was claimed for this special model that it extracted only the

theine, and not the tannin from the tea. Now, as a matter of fact, it is simply impossible to make tea, no

matter how it is made, entirely free from tannin. It is quite true that many suppose by infusing the tea for a

very brief period only two or three minutes the passage of the tannin into the beverage can be prevented,

but, as Sir William Roberts has pointed out, this is quite a delusion. Tannin is one of the most soluble

substances known, and melts in hot water just as sugar does. Tea made experimentally, by pouring boiling

water on the dry leaves placed on filter paper, contains tannin. As Sir William remarks, you can no more have

Nevertheless, it is a fact that this antitannic teapot has many excellent points about it, and is sure to meet

with favour. It is really an attempt to make tea by a more certain method than is generally employed; for I

think it must be admitted that the present happygolucky style has not much to recommend it. On one

occasion the tea will be excellent and on another either as weak as water, or with such a sharp acrid taste

that it is almost undrinkable. In the latter case the tea has been allowed to soak so long that it has become a

decoction instead of an infusion. The consequence of this prolonged action of the hot water on the tea is that

it brings out the bitter extractive material of the plant, and it is this which proves so particularly pernicious.

Tea at sea is proverbially unpalatable, and invariably disagrees, owing chiefly to the fact that it is a boiled

Coffee is the roasted and ground product of the seeds found within the fruit of a tree, the Coffea Arabica.

Originally a native of Abyssinia, it was transported into Arabia at the beginning of the fifteenth century.

Since then it has been widely cultivated in the West Indies, in Ceylon, and in other warm countries. The fruit

itself much resembles a small cherry in size and appearance, and usually contains two small seeds the

coffee beans themselves. The choicest coffee is the mocha or Arabian coffee, and the bean is very small. Of

the West Indian varieties, the Jamaica and the Martinique coffee are the best. The exhilarating and agreeable

properties of coffee are dependent in great part upon three active principles which it contains. The first of

these is caffeine, which is almost identical in composition with, and practically the same as, the theine present

in tea. Next there are the volatile oils, developed by roasting, from which coffee derives its aroma. Indeed, as

far as they are concerned, there are many who believe that these ethereal oils have more to do with the

characteristic properties of coffee than even the caffeine itself. And, lastly, there are the acids known as

caffeotannic and caffeic acids, which are modified forms of tea tannin. They exist to a far less extent,

Coffee has a decidedly stimulating effect upon the nervous system; so much so that in France it has been

called une boisson intellectuelle (an intellectual beverage), from its stimulating all the functions of the brain.

Not so long ago a writer, Dr. J.N Lane, in the British Medical Journal gave some interesting, information

with respect to coffee and brain work. As the result of his own experience he recommended "a cup of strong

coffee, without cream or sugar, preceded and followed by a glass of hot water every morning before

breakfast. The various secretions are thus stimulated, the nerve force aroused, no matter how the duties of the

preceding day and night may have drawn upon the system. Another cup at four in the afternoon is sufficient

to sustain the energies for many hours." It is only fair to add, however, that the Journal went on to remark that

in this way some 50 grains of caffeine would be taken each week, and that very little more might develop

injurious symptoms, so that the power of doing an illimitable amount of work would be obtained under

One of its most remarkable effects is that of relieving the feeling of fatigue or exhaustion, whether this be

produced by brain work or bodily labour. It enables the system also to bear up under an empty stomach and

when the supply of food is shortened. In this way it is of signal value to the soldier in the field. Professor E.A.

Parkes, all admitted authority on these matters, bears testimony to the fact that in military service it

invigorates the system and is almost equally useful against both cold and heat against cold by reason of its

warmth, and against heat by its action on the skin. It appears, also, to do sway with the need for sleep,

probably from its arousing the mental faculties, and the effect of a strong cup of coffee in inducing

wakefulness is well known. Coffee has, moreover, a distinct action on the heart, and tends to strengthen it.

The Germans are great believers in its virtues, and Vogel, one of the principal authorities on diseases of

children, recommends it for them, mixed with cream, both as a food and as a tonic.

In addition to the foregoing, coffee is also employed by reason of its important medicinal virtues. In

malarious countries a cup of hot strong coffee, in the early morning, is regarded as a preventive against fever

and ague. It is a valuable agent in many cases of heart disease, particularly when associated with dropsy. In

Bright's disease of the kidneys, where dropsy is present, it is likewise given with benefit. Strong coffee is also

a wellknown remedy in asthma, both in relieving the actual attack and in acting as a restorative after it is

over. It frequently gives great relief in many forms of nervous headache, particularly in that variety known as

migraine, in which the pain is generally limited to one side of the head. And, lastly, coffee is a valuable

From the foregoing it must be evident that coffee occupies a very high position as a beverage. All that

concerns its preparation, therefore, is of undoubted interest. In the first place, to obtain coffee in perfection it

is indispensable that the beans be roasted at home, and not only should the roasting be done in the house, but

the operation ought really to be performed immediately before the coffee is made, and the reasons thereof I

shall give in speaking of the process of roasting. Many people do not care sufficiently about the perfection of

coffee to go to this trouble, and are content with having their roasted coffee beans sent to them daily from

their grocer. The leading establishments roast their coffee beans daily, and from them the latter may be

obtained and ground in the mill at home. This, of course, though not giving the real thing, is an immense

improvement on the hallowed tradition, so dear to some, of purchasing their weekly supply of,,round coffee

at a time and keeping it in a tin or vessel for use as required. But, as I said before, if perfection is aimed at,

In the selection of the green beans care should be taxiway to see that they are nearly all of the same size, for

if some are small and others large, when it comes to roasting it will be found that the small ones are done to a

cinder, while the larger beans are hardly touched. The beans, too, should be perfectly dry; if moist, they

should be dried in a dish by the fire or in the oven before going into the roaster. On the coffee plantations the

drying of the bean is considered a most important matter when preparing them for export.

In the process of roasting, a volatile oil which gives to coffee its unique fragrance is developed. It is

somewhat curious that no amount of boiling could educe this from the raw bean. This oil is exceedingly

volatile, and begins to disperse and evaporate the very moment it is born. Hence, to obtain the perfection of

coffee, no time should be lost in grinding and making it directly it is roasted. When the fragrant vapour of the

roasted bean is first given off, it is soon followed by a peculiar noise, caused by the splitting and crackling of

the external silvery greenish covering of the raw beans. At this time, or very shortly afterwards, the latter are

of a yellowish hue, but before long they change into that desirable lightish brown colour, when the peculiar

The best mill for grinding the coffee, and one which may be obtained from any ironmonger, is that which can

be screwed on the edge of the kitchen table or dresser. It has a little contrivance to regulate the size of the

grains. and care must be taken not to grind the coffee too fine; it should be in minute crumbs rather than in

As I have already said, the perfection of coffee is only to be obtained under three conditions. These are, first,

that the beans should be roasted at home; that they should be ground without much delay; and, thirdly, made

into coffee as soon as possible. Many people are, however, unable to carry out the first of these three

requirements. The next best substitute is to have the roasted coffee beans sent daily to them by their grocer.

This is a practice which might be followed more frequently with a great deal of advantage, for all are able, at

The making of the coffee is quite as important as the preceding, and the number of different models of

coffeemakers is almost perplexing. But of them all, the one which is simplest, and perhaps most effective, is

the ordinary cafetiers, or French coffeepot. This has the advantage of costing only a few shillings, and is

readily obtainable from any ironmonger. It consists of an upper compartment in which the coffee is made,

and a lower part the coffeepot itself into which the coffee descends. These two portions are quite

separate, although the upper fits on the lower. The floor on which the coffee is placed of the upper part

is perforated by a number of minute holes There is also a movable strainer about an inch in depth, which fits

on top of the upper part; and a presser, consisting of a long rod with a circular plate at its end, which for

convenience passes through the centre of the strainer, and rests on the perforated floor of the upper part.

There are one or two points to be borne in mind in the making of coffee. As a rule Englishspeaking people

do not allow enough coffee to each cup. The almost universal fault of coffee, made elsewhere than on the

Continent, is its want of strength and flavour. With regard to the admixture of chicory, this is largely a

question of taste, and the palate must be consulted in the matter. The great majority of people, however,

cannot do without it, and it is quite (when genuine) a harmless addition. Madame LebourFawssett

recommends the following proportions: For making cafe' noir, or coffee after meals, there should be six

teaspoonsful of coffee, heaped up, and a very small teaspoonful of chicory, or none at all, for one pint of

water. The chicory must be left out altogether, and another teaspoonful of coffee substituted for those who

object to chicory with their cafe' noir. For morning coffee or cafe' au lait there should be ten or twelve

teaspoonsful of coffee, with a sixth part of chicory, for each pint of water. As Madame LebourFawssett

remarks, cafe' au lait is never complete without chicory, but care should be taken not to overdo it, since too

much chicory renders the coffee quite undrinkable. Of course, if you do not require as much as a pint of

coffee, the quantities may be reduced, still observing the same proportions. Before pouring out the coffee, the

Now, having seen what proportions of coffee and chicory are to be employed for cafe' noir and cafe' au lait

respectively, it will be better to describe the actual making of the coffee, since the cafeti re will then be more

easily understood. We will suppose its upper part is fitted into its place on the top of the lower portion, and

that the strainer and presser have been removed for the time being. Enough boiling water should first of all be

poured in to fill both the upper and lower compartments, allowed to stand for a couple of minutes, and then

Next put the amount of coffee necessary upon the perforated floor of the upper part. The coffee should then

be well pressed down with the presser, and the latter instrument next laid aside. After this the strainer should

be replaced on top of the upper compartment, and the required amount of boiling water, a little at a time,

poured in through it (the strainer). The object of pouring in the boiling water slowly is to give it time to

percolate through the densely pressed coffee lying on the floor of the upper part. There is a little tin cover

fitting over the spout of the lower compartment, which should be adjusted to keep in the steam. The whole

may then be set aside for a few minutes, and when the coffee has passed into the lower part, it is ready for

use. With a little practice, and by paying attention to these details, the most perfect coffee may be made.

In Australia some reference to the subject of iced drinks is necessarily required, for they are in great request

during the hot season. There is a considerable amount of diversity of opinion as to their good and bad effects,

but it will be found that the experience of most medical men is that when used in moderation they greatly

relieve thirst and are not injurious. This, indeed, is my own belief, and were it not for the abuse of iced

drinks, the same opinion would be held almost universally. America is the country of countries in which the

inordinate use of ice has gained for it a reputation which it has never deserved. Ice, says George Augustus

Sala, is the alpha and omega of social life in the United States. At the hotels, firstclass or otherwise, the

beverage partaken of at dinner is mostly iced water. Every repast, in fact, begins and ends with a glass of iced

water. When consumed in this way it is no wonder that it often disagrees, and that icewater dyspepsia is a

definite malady in America. And more than this, imagine carrying the employment of ice to such an extent

that it culminates in that gastronomical curiosity, a baked ice! The "Alaska" is a baked ice, of which the

interior is an ice cream. This latter is surrounded by an exterior of whipped cream, made warm by means of a

Salamander. The transition from the hot outside envelope to the frozen inside is painfully sudden, and not

likely to be attended with beneficial effect. But the abuse of a good thing is no argument whatever against its

It will be desirable, however, to see what is believed in India about iced drinks, for it will be something of a

guide for us in Australia. There are two authorities in particular who have been already referred to, and who

have written on this matter in its application to India. The first of these is Sir James Ranald Martin, who had

twentytwo years experience there in different parts, and is therefore entitled to be listened to. He says that

ice is a matter of necessity in the East, and quotes Dolomieu, who observes of iced drinks that "they revive

There is also that other great name, that of Sir Joseph Fayrer, who is most competent to speak on Indian

matters. In setting forth rules for the guidance of those who purpose living in India, he remarks that iced

water may be drunk with impunity there; that he has no recollection of seeing any one suffer from drinking

iced water or iced soda water in a hot climate; and that in the great heat it is good, since it tends to keep down

the body temperature. When the system is prostrated by the sun or extreme heat, or exhausted by physical or

intellectual exertion in a hot and damp atmosphere, he believes that a glass of iced water slowly swallowed is

far more refreshing than the iced brandy, or whisky peg, or draught of beer, too frequently indulged in under

The different writers on food and dietetics, who have given considerable attention to the same subject, are

almost unanimous in their opinion to the same effect. There will be no occasion to refer to all of them, but

three at least deserve a brief mention. Dr. Burney Yeo has recently observed that iced water, when taken in

small quantities, is refreshing and cooling, and likewise stimulates the digestive functions. On the other hand,

it is certainly injurious when taken in inordinate amount. According to Dr. T. King Chambers, cool drinks are

beneficial to the stomach in hot weather, since they help to reduce the increased temperature to which the

overheated blood has brought it. Ice, moreover, is a valuable addition to the dietary both of the sick and of

the healthy. There is one caution to be observed, however, and it is that ice is injurious when the system is

exhausted after violent exercise. And lastly, Dr. Milner Fothergill believes the craving for cool drinks during

the hot weather is such, that there is evidently some irrepressible desire to be satisfied. He even writes that in

his opinion the dyspepsia of Americans is not entirely due to the free use of iced water, but that there are

But while all this is greatly in favour of the moderate use of iced drinks, the purity of the source from which

the ice is obtained is also a matter of the highest importance. Ice is not ice when the water from which it is

derived is impure. There was an outbreak of sickness amongst the visitors at one of the large hotels at Rye

Beach, a wateringplace in America, one summer. The symptoms were an alarming disturbance of the with

severe pain, great feverishness, and depression of spirits. It was found that the ice which occasioned this

outbreak had been taken from a stagnant pond containing a large amount of decomposing matter. A portion

of it was carefully melted, and was found to contain a considerable quantity of decaying vegetable matter. In

the case of artificial ice, the question of purity is even more important. The reason for this is that the water

used in the manufacture of artificial ice is usually frozen solid, and whatever substances, consequently, are

Five out of every six male adults smoke, whether it be cigarette, cigar, or pipe. That is, in a gathering of, say,

600 men, 500 will be smokers and 100 nonsmokers. At least, this is the estimated proportion in the old

country. In Australia the ratio is about the same, but the average amount of tobacco used by every smoker is

greater. According to Mr. T. A. Coghlan in his Wealth and Progress of New South Wales, the annual

consumption of tobacco in Australia for each inhabitant is 3 lbs. all but a fraction. For the United Kingdom

the corresponding amount is 1.41 lbs.; and for the United States of America, 4.40 lbs. Italy, it would seem,

consumes in the same way 1.34 lbs.; France, 2.05 lbs.; Germany, 3 lbs.; Austria, 3.77 lbs.; Turkey, 4.37 lbs.;

while Holland reaches the excessive amount of 6.92 lbs. Of the five colonies of Australia, namely, New

South Wales, Victoria, South Australia, Queensland, and West Australia, the use of tobacco is greatest in the

latter two; the figures for Queensland being 3.53 lbs., and for West Australia 4.11 lbs.

With regard to the effect of tobacco on the human system, it will perhaps be most convenient to make a

division into the following three classes. In the first place there are a certain number of people upon whom

tobacco in any shape or form has an absolutely poisonous influence. There must be some peculiar

susceptibility of the system in their case which renders them especially vulnerable to its action. On this

account, therefore, they are better without tobacco at all, and any attempt to habituate themselves to it must

be attended with prejudice to health. Secondly, there are many other people who can only use tobacco in its

very mildest forms. They may be able to smoke a few cigarettes daily, perhaps only three or four; if they

indulge in a cigar, it must be one of the mildest; if a pipe, the tobacco will have to be the very lightest.

Anything exceeding their allowance is an excess for which they are obliged to pay the penalty. Then, again,

there is a third class who can enjoy tobacco in moderation. But these are the very people who are most apt to

abuse their privilege. And although they do not recognise it at once, the effect of their excessive smoking is

bound to assert itself at last, and compel them to curtail their allowance. If those in the second category, who

can enjoy the mildest tobacco in the smallest quantities, and those in the third, who can smoke in moderation,

were never to exceed their proper amount, no very great harm would follow. But it most frequently happens

The tobacco plant, Nicotiana Tobacum, belongs to the order Solanaceae, which also includes belladonna,

capsicum, henbane, and likewise the common potato. Its active principle, an alkaloid nicotine or nicotia

is combined with a vegetable acid. Some of the alkaloids, such as morphine, strychnine, are crystalline in

character, but this, along with a few others, is liquid. A single drop of it is fatal to the smaller animals, a cat

or Even as it is, the first smoke usually produces characteristic results. There is generally pallor of the face,

nausea, and vomiting. Usually a cold, clammy sweat breaks out, and the heart seems as if it were about to

stop. The system, however, gradually becomes habituated to its action, and these symptoms do not reappear.

Seeing that this somewhat unpleasant apprenticeship is uncomplainingly served, it is evident that in smoking

there must be some powerful attraction. There are many, indeed, who persist in it when it is doing them an

It is a fortunate thing that almost all of the nicotine passes off, or is burnt up, or else the effect would be more

markedly disastrous. But the pleasurable effects of tobacco are derived in great part from the volatile

alkaloids formed during combustion. The alkaloids which develop during the smoking of a pipe are entirely

different from those of a cigar. In a pipe, according to Vold and Eulenburg, the tobacco yields a very much

larger proportion of volatile bases, especially of the very volatile and stupefying pyridine. On the other hand,

a cigar produces but little pyridine, but more of the less active collidine. It is well known that very much

stronger tobacco can be smoked as a cigar than as a pipe. As a matter of fact a cigar which could be enjoyed

as a cigar, would cause sickness if cut up into small pieces and smoked in a pipe. This pyridine to which

reference has just been made has lately been brought forward as a remedy for asthma. Now, the effect of

tobacco in cutting short an attack of this latter malady is, at times, very marked. And Professor Se'e, the

In the earlier part of this section I have attempted to form a provisional classification of people as far as the

effect of tobacco is concerned. Firstly, those upon whom tobacco in any shape or form is an absolute poison;

secondly, those who can enjoy a very small amountdaily; and thirdly, those who are able to smoke in

moderation. Now, while those who use tobacco with wise discretion appear to be none the worse for it, yet it

unfortunately happens that far too frequently there is no limit to this discretion. It is too often the case,

therefore, that quite a serious amount of damage to health results from excessive smoking. It requires a good

There are certain symptoms which should lead a man either to curtail his allowance, or else give up tobacco

altogether. These are marked nervousness, trembling of the whole body, unsteadiness of the hands, and

twitching of different muscles. There may be also swimming of the head, severe headache, and a feeling of

despondency. In other cases there may be irritability of temper, a want of will determination, and progressive

loss of memory. The special senses sight, hearing, taste, smell, and touch may all be blunted. The Bight

and hearing are often markedly affected. Colour blindness is sometimes a result, and there may be that

impairment of vision known tobacco amblyopia. As regards the hearing, too, there is not unfrequently a

And more than this, tobacco, when unsuitable or used in excess, has other prejudicial effects. Its action on the

heart is well known, and is frequently manifested by violent palpitation and by disturbed action of the heart.

There is also a definite disorder known as "the smoker's heart." In this affection the beats, instead of being

regular, are very rapid, suddenly becoming very slow. In this way the rhythm of the heart has been aptly

compared by Dr. Lauder Brunton to a restive horse, who goes into a gallop for a few yards, next pulls up all

at once, and then breaks off into a gallop again. When tobacco has these prejudicial effects upon the heart, it

is no good diminishing the allowance. The only way to bring about any good result is to knock it off

In addition to its direct action on the heart, tobacco smoking may also bring on a sudden fainting, in which

there is absolutely no warning. This condition may develop from the tobacco alone, but in many instances

nervous excitement or shock are superadded. Professor Fraser, of Edinburgh, has observed that quite a

number of his college friends, who smoked to an inordinate extent as students, were obliged to give up

tobacco as middle age approached. Several of them had to do so on account of the onset of these sudden

fainting fits. Many smokers also suffer from what is termed chronic pharyngitis. In this affection the mucous

membrane at the back part of the mouth looks like dirtyred velvet, and there is also a constant hawking of

phlegm. And further, indigestion itself is in many eases entirely due to excessive smoking, from which there

But even when tobacco does not produce such marked ill effects, it is as well to remember that it has always a

definite action from a gastronomic point of view. And it is this, that directly after the first draw of a cigarette,

cigar, or pipe, the palate loses its delicacy of perception. As Sir Henry Thompson remarks, after smoke the

power to appreciate good wine is lost, and no judicious host cares to open a fresh bottle from his best bin for

the smoker. This is perfectly true; under such circumstances valuable wine would simply be thrown away.

But, on the other hand, there is an unquestionable sympathy between coffee and tobacco, and a cup of Mocha

blends harmoniously with choice Latakia. This is well recognised in the East; and throughout the Continent

coffee and temperate habits go hand in hand with the cigar or cigarette. We must also agree with Sir Henry

when he declares that smoke and alcoholic drinks are only found associated together in Great Britain and

other northern nations, where there are to be found the most insensitive palates in Europe. It is a good thing,

therefore, that the habits followed here are unknown to him, or else Australia would certainly have had a rap

THIS comes last alphabetically of the five essentials concerned in the maintenance of health namely,

ablution: the skin and the bath; bedroom ventilation; clothing; diet; and exercise but it is none the less

important on that account. Exercise may be defined as action of the body, whereby its organs and their

functions are kept in a state of health. Each one of us has from the moment of his existence a certain stature

allotted, as it were, to which he will attain. In this way some will be tall, others will be short, so that the

height of the body is something quite beyond our control, as we know by the interrogation, "Which of you by

taking thought can add one cubit to his stature?" But in contradistinction to height, we know that the muscles

of the body can be developed and increased in size by use. It is by their action in exercise that the muscles are

enlarged, hardened, and brought to their greatest state of perfection. And it is only by exercise, and by

Now, in the same way that education develops and increases the power of the brain, so exercise has a similar

effect on the body. When the muscles are strengthened, the beneficial effect is also participated in by the

heart, lungs, and digestive organs, and thus the removal of wornout material from the body is assisted. The

effect of exercise is thus to remove used up products from the system, and so afford an opportunity for

renewed material to take their place. Ceaseless changes are constantly going on throughout the body, and any

part which has fulfilled its object is no longer necessary for the requirements of the system, in fact it becomes

injurious. Its removal has to take place by one of the various outlets, and it is by exercise that its expulsion is

greatly assisted. In this way exercise differs altogether from the part played by food. The latter is the

introduction of nourishment into the system for the renewal of its wants, while exercise is the principal agent

It was well known amongst the Greeks and Romans that the muscles reached their greatest state of

development by means of exercise. Though, therefore, gymnastics formed a great part of their system of

education, yet the chief aim in their athletic instruction was the desire to train men to fight their battles, and in

those days war was a matter of personal valour and of individual bravery. On that account, therefore, the men

who were selected as their soldiers were among the healthiest of the nation. Those who by reason of bodily

infirmity or inherent weakness were unfitted for military prowess were left alone. But, as Maclaren has well

pointed out, the object of systematic and proper exercise is not for the production of a race of soldiers, though

a certain proportion of the population will always be required for military service. With the great majority of

men the struggle for existence is keen, and it is simply a question of the survival of the fittest, and of the

weakest going to the wall. The requirements of the present time are therefore a capacity for endurance and an

ability to withstand the effects of work day after day. We do not require athletes who are capable of

performing wonderful feats of strength; but the fight of the nineteenth century is brain against brain, and he

will be best equipped for the struggle who has the advantage of good bodily health. In the higher callings,

where brain power is everything, the necessity for perfect physical condition is all the more imperative,

because the brain is supplied with healthy blood, and the ideas flow with less effort.

The brain is an organ of the body exactly in the same way that the heart, the lungs, and the liver are, and

therefore is subject to the same changes which belong to every other part of the frame. It will be at its best

when there is circulating through it a full supply of rich red arterial blood, for that means a continual renewal

of fresh material to it, and a speedy removal of wornout products. It is by exercise mainly, whether it be

voluntarily undertaken, or whether it pertain to the calling, that the body is kept at the pink of condition, and

the brain benefited accordingly. Another great and important result from improving the bodily health is the

increased power of what we call the will. The undertaking, say, of a long walk or climb involves the

possession of a certain amount of determination, and many people, though perfectly aware of the good to be

obtained by a few hours' exercise outside the house, have not the determination to carry it into effect. Once

the disinclination to move is overcome, the effort required is less each time, and ultimately the will gains a

When the muscles are put into action, what is termed their contractility is called into play that is, the force

which was dormant before is roused into activity. This is effected through the nervous system, and it is the

will which emanates from the brain and is carried along certain nerves to accomplish definite actions. During

the contraction of a muscle its individual fibres change in form, producing an alteration in the shape of the

whole muscle; thus it becomes shorter and thicker. At the same time, while it is in action more blood flows

through it, hence we see that one of the beneficial effects of exercise is to stimulate the circulation through

the muscular system. It has also been ascertained by experiments, that the venous blood which comes from a

muscle in action is darker in colour than that from a muscle in repose. When the circulation is quickened by

movement, and the blood stream hastened, the vigour of the body is increased, because the used up material

is all the quicker taken away, and a freshly created supply of nutrition brought to every part.

The rate of breathing is accelerated whenever the body is engaged in muscular exertion, and with this

quickened breathing there is an increased amount of oxygen drawn in, and an increased amount of carbonic

acid gas and water exhaled by the breath. The oxygen which is absorbed from the air into the blood is stored

in the red corpuscles of the latter, by which it is carried to every part of the body. The venous blood which

returns from every portion of the system comes back as a dark crimson, instead of being bright scarlet like the

arterial blood. It contains carbonic acid, and returns it to the lungs, where it is exhaled by the breath. The

oxygen is necessary to existence, while the carbonic acid is injurious. The effect of exercise, then, in any

form, is thus to distribute healthy blood more rapidly through the system, while it removes the injurious

matters quite as speedily. The effect of active exercise on the heart, as it is well known, is to make it beat

faster; by this the blood is driven through the body at a quicker rate than usual. Sometimes, when the effort is

unusually severe, there is a disturbance of the regular balance between the heart and the lungs. There is thus

produced an irregular or unequal action of the former, causing what is known as "loss of wind," which is,

There is an excessive flow of blood to the surface of the body, causing it to redden, and at the same time the

perspiration is greatly increased. It is on account of this latter moisture opening up the pores of the skin that

the good effects of exercise are chiefly due. The perspiration consists mainly of water containing different

salts and organic matters. It is found by experiment that the amount of water passing through the lungs and

The result of moderate exercise in benefiting the nervous system is well known, and the effect of a gentle

walk in making the ideas flow through the brain is a matter of common observation. At the same time, it must

be borne in mind that exercise, when carried to the verge of fatigue, compels inactivity of the brain for a time,

since Nature must have repose. But when carried out in moderation with a view of improving the condition of

the body, it conduces to the salubrity of the brain as well, for the latter organ shares in the health of the

former. The only thing to guard against is irregular and fitful doses; thus it is far better to take a little in

moderation daily, than to attempt to make one day's exercise suffice for the rest of the week.

It follows from the foregoing, therefore, that without exercise a perfect state of health is an impossibility.

There can be no proper bodily health unless there be daily exercise. It is the same with everybody, no matter

what the condition of life may be. Exercise is quite as necessary for the welltodo man as it is for him who

is not so circumstanced. The laws of health cannot be violated, and all the money in the world will not atone

for neglect in this respect. Exercise is not a matter that can be carried out by proxy. No; each one must take

It is a fortunate thing, then, that most people have to earn their own living, for the exertion thereby entailed is

actually necessary for health. Yet, while this is the case with those who live by their bodily labour, it hardly

applies to those who are more dependent upon mental work. For instance, the latter include literary men and

journalists, the members of the professions, and those of the vast commercial world all, indeed, who have

brain strain and clerical occupations. In their case the great fault is that they use their heads too much and

their limbs too little. For them walking is one of the very best means of obtaining health, and it should be

It has been said that no man under sixty, unless he be kept walking while at his work, should walk less than

six or eight miles a day, if he wishes to keep well and have healthy children. In the cooler weather in

Australia these are certainly suitable distances, but in the hot months half these amounts will be found

sufficient, and they had better be carried out in the cool of the evening. Then again, for those over sixty it has

been well observed that a daily walk is still the best means of promoting health. But the walk must always be

proportionate to the strength, and should be done at nothing more than a moderate pace, if a man wishes to

There is another matter which calls for notice, and it is that of early morning exercise. Now, I am quite

willing to admit that there are many who derive great benefit from their early morning swim, their matutinal

walk, or their tennis before breakfast. But it should be distinctly borne in mind that there are others with

whom such early morning exercise does not agree. They get as a result a weary, languid feeling which lasts

throughout the entire day. Now, they are apt to imagine it is the exercise in itself which produces this effect.

But the truth is, it arises from the time of day at which the exercise is taken, and is not due to the exertion at

all. It must not be forgotten, therefore, that while many people derive the greatest advantage from early

morning exercise, yet there are others for whom it is altogether unsuitable. But, on the other hand, the latter

will obtain every possible benefit by taking their allowance of exercise at some other period of the

There are other forms of exercise besides walking, and these have their good points. Riding is, of course,

invaluable, especially in cases of sluggish liver. As it has been wittily observed, the outside of a horse is the

best thing for the inside of a man. In the cool months in Australia riding is a real pleasure, but in the hot

season it is hardly so agreeable. Then again, rowing is a magnificent exercise, and has much to recommend it

in early adult life. There is no harm whatever in rowing as an exercise, but when it comes to racing that is a

different matter. It is the great strain on the heart, together with the excitement which constitute the sources of

risk. The other varieties of exercise, namely, gardening, the different games, cricket, football, tennis, need not

be particularized as they all subserve the same purposes, and are in consequence very desirable.

In all the preceding I have endeavoured to show that daily exercise is absolutely necessary for the proper

maintenance of health. But there is something even more than this. It is that a long life itself is to be ensured

by exercise. It is only by exercise, and by exercise alone, that the various organs of the body, the heart, the

lungs, the stomach, the liver, are maintained in their normal state of health. Their condition, moreover, is only

to be improved by the muscular movements belonging to exercise. The heart itself is intended for action, not

for inaction. By action it thrives, and by disuse it becomes weakened. It is so with all the other organs. In

conclusion, therefore, it must be said that the whole system can only be kept in perfect health by muscular

movements, and that in addition to keeping the body in health exercise actually increases the chances of

IN all probability there are but few who have ever had their attention called to certain figures duly set forth

within the pages of that mine of information, namely, Mr. T. A. Coghlan's Wealth and Progress of New South

Wales. Nevertheless, the facts associated with these statistics so directly concern our Australian daily life that

they deserve to be widely known. That portion of the work in which our food supply is considered, therefore,

is well worth referring to. It will he found that the consumption of butcher's meat by each inhabitant is greater

than in any other country in the world. Thus the amount of meat required for each member of the community

every year in New South Wales is 201 lbs.; in Victoria 275 lbs.; whilst in Queensland 370 lbs. are called for.

On the other hand, in the United Kingdom only 109 lbs. are similarly needed; in the United States of America

150 lbs. while the figures for the different European countries show an average of no more than 70 lbs.

Another article of commerce which is consumed to excess in all parts is tea. As I have previously stated, it is

estimated by Coghlan that the four million people in Australasia use more of this beverage than all the

millions who inhabit continental Europe, that is, if Russia be excluded; but he further points out that in

Australia itself the use of tea is universal. The tables show that for each inhabitant New South Wales requires

annually 7.8 lbs.; Victoria, 7.7 lbs.; South Australia, 6.5 lbs.; and Queensland 8.4 lbs.; and moreover, that

West Australia attains a maximum with 10.6 lbs. Now, according to Mulhall, in his Dictionary of Statistics,

the amount of tea consumed annually for each inhabitant in the United Kingdom is only 5 lbs.; and for the

A survey of these figures consequently must compel us to admit that Australia is inhabited by a people

largely carnivorous and addicted to tea. Surely not one person in a thousand would advocate such a diet under

any circumstances. Is it not astonishing, therefore, that innutritious fare of this land is still tolerated in

Australia? Facts such as these call for the most serious consideration, since they must irresistibly affect the

national life; but though it may seem strange, these matters have never received the notice they stand in need

There are worlds of interest, however, centred in the notable circumstance that Australia, a new and a

semitropical country, is now being peopled by the descendants of those who belonged to an entirely different

climate. At the present time the old racial instincts are actively powerful, and exert an influence diametrically

opposed to climatic surroundings; and, as a matter of fact, we are witnessing a struggle between our

AngloSaxon heredities and our Australian environment. But such a conflict against our destiny is one in

which the odds are overwhelmingly on one side. For of all forces, that of climate is the most powerful. It is

true that man is able almost to remove mountains, and that he can create rivers in an arid land; but to

endeavour to resist the dominating influence of climate is to attempt the impossible.

Yet there is something more than all this which should induce us to follow the promptings of nature; this is

the fact that Australia will only reach the zenith of her possibilities when her people conform to her climatic

requirements. For what would the latter mean? Market gardens innumerable, and a healthy and lucrative life

for all concerned; the development of her deepsea fisheries, and employment, direct as well as indirect, to

thousands; the cultivation of the vine, with all the wealth pertaining to smiling vineyards; the growth of the

olive and other fruits, and all the other industries which only await their creation; and instead of this, at

present, all we possess is the knowledge that we are the greatest meateating and teadrinking race on earth.

We are told that it was Jean Jacques Rousseau who first entirely severed education and learning. In his

E'mile, published in 1762, he advocated a more natural and less pedantic method of training and developing

the physical, mental, and moral faculties of the young. The work produced an astounding effect on its

appearance, and has largely influenced the educational methods throughout Europe.

Not so long afterwards, in 1801, Johann Heinrich Pestalozzi, permeated with the atmosphere following the

French Revolution, gave to the world his views on education in his work How Gertrude Teaches her

Children. The essence of his belief being that "senseimpression is the foundation of instruction," he

counselled the development of all the faculties in preference to the mere acquisition of words. "Words alone,"

said he, "cannot give us a knowledge of things; they are only useful for giving expression to what we have in

our own minds." Consequently, he believed in imparting instruction by a direct appeal to the senses and the

understanding so as to call forth all the powers, selecting the subjects of study so that each step should

progressively assist the pupil's advancement. He contended that observation was the method by which

knowledge was principally gained, and that the perceptive faculties (intuition) were developed by

observation. Even in his own time his ideas were awarded a recognition of their value; in fact, he had the

In the early part of the present century another reformer, Friedrich Wilhelm August Froebel, arose to

influence all future educational methods. As with Rousseau, Froebel held that each age belonged to itself, and

that the perfection of the later stage could only be attained through perfection of the earlier. So, too, while

Pestalozzi upheld that the faculties were developed by exercise, Froebel went farther, and added that the

function of education was to develop the faculties by arousing voluntary activity, in this way becoming,

according to Michelet, the greatest of educational reformers. Froebel was convinced that man was primarily a

doer, indeed, even a creator, and that he learnt only through "selfactivity." In action, moreover, there was

not alone the mere physical exercise, but also the actual unfolding and strengthening of the mental powers.

To Froebel, indeed, belongs the honour of originating the kindergarten system, which is making such

progress at the present time; and more than this, it may be said that while it is employed only in the earlier

stages of education, yet his principles are beginning to make themselves felt throughout the entire system of

As a matter of fact, what is known in Sweden and in Finland as sl yd, or manual instruction, may be

regarded as a continuation of the Kindergarten system. Through the exertions of Uno Cygnaeus the whole of

the national system of education in Finland was reorganized, and manual work was first made a part of the

regular instruction in the common schools. In Sweden, likewise, the same principles have been introduced

chiefly by Herr Otto Salomon, the director of the great sloyd seminarum at Naas. Sloyd work is used in the

schools in a disciplinary way as an integral part of general education; the children, generally boys, are

employed for a certain number of hours a week in making articles of common household use. It is maintained

that work of this kind is specially invaluable in supplementing the ordinary school education of the three R's.

It fulfils the injunction "to put the whole boy to school;" it develops faculties which would otherwise lie

dormant, while at the same time it trains the eye and does away with clumsy fingers.

From the foregoing it will be seen that within the last 130 years a striking change has come over the view

held respecting education. Prior to that time an artificial and pedantic method prevailed, which received its

first check from the pen of Rousseau. The system which he attacked, however, built up as it was upon

centuries of mediaeval learning, was not to be disposed of by this one encounter. Such a result was not to be

expected in the natural order of things; but as the ideas of Rousseau contained the living truth, they were

bound to find advocacy in due course, and though the seed might lie quiescent for a time, yet it was sure to

germinate sooner or later. After him the path of educational reform was illumined by the genius of Pestalozzi,

and a few years later Froebel appeared to influence for ever the methods of education. Indeed, it was the latter

who by his kindergarten system has founded the practical education of our own day.

The vast change, then, along the whole line of education has been from scholastic learning towards that of

education in manual training. This is the truest recognition of the fact that the purpose of education is to

prepare a child for his journey through life, and not merely to get him ready for an examination; but although

the meaning of education has thus become more apparent, there is still too much a tendency in the present

day to burden the developing mind with a multiplicity of subjects. We do not wish to produce a living

encyclopaedia, but we desire to create a being, well trained in all his senses, and thoroughly competent to

take his part in the battle of life. Far be it from imagining that I decry the advantages of learning in the

slightest degree, but surely there is the broadest distinction between a scholastic prodigy and a practical

This exaggeration of the function of education expressed by the word multiplicity deserves a little

consideration, for it would appear that our educationists overlook the fact that the organism with which they

have to deal is going through the most critical period of its existence. At the very time that children are

rapidly undergoing the process of physical development, there is superadded the acquirement of elaborate

mental knowledge, and when bone and muscle and sinew are in the active processes of transformation and

growth, then it is that the intellectual faculties are spurred on at a killing pace. The child leaves school in the

afternoon with a load of home lessons to be prepared for the following day. The very meaning of the word

school has become distorted; instead of being a medium for imparting instruction, it threatens to become

merely a building in which the lessons learned at home overnight are heard, and besides this, if the school is

thus to become simply a place for hearing lessons, the office of schoolmaster must correspondingly suffer.

This I hope will never be, for it would at once take away all personality from the teacher, and transmute him

into a mere auditory machine. His individuality would become lost in the official, and teaching as teaching

resolve itself into a stereotyped function; and this latter consideration leads me to remark that one man has

the gift of imparting knowledge, in which another fails entirely. One instructor has a way of putting things so

that they ale retained in the memory of his pupils for ever, while another so fails to express himself that not

The chief purpose of education should be the preparation of the young for their adult life. As Agesilaus the

Great observed when one asked him what boys should learn: "That," said he, "which they shall use when

men." But the future of the two sexes differs entirely after school life is over. It will follow, therefore, that

there should be an essential difference between the education required for the boy and that for the girl. In our

present day system of education, however, there is too much a disposition to make no such distinction. The

boy in the greater number of cases is the breadwinner, and has to rely on his own exertions, whether they be

manual or mental. The girl, on the other hand, looks forward to the destiny of housewife. This aspect of the

educational problem certainly deserves to have more attention paid to it than it has yet received. Still a step in

the light direction has been made by James Platt, the author of many valuable works on currency, finance,

who advocates that business habits and kindred matters should be taught to all youths. Of course it is not

intended that the sole object of education should be the principles of money making, but at the same time

there is a considerable amount of truth in his contention. But the chief purpose I have in view is to advocate a

thorough and systematic teaching of Cookery to girls. In the remaining part of this chapter, therefore, I shall

Under this heading I propose to describe briefly what is being done in connection with Cookery Instruction in

the places mentioned. Now the principal object I have in view is to further the teaching of Cookery to girls

during school life. It will, however, somewhat strengthen my advocacy if I refer to the beginning of this

movement in England, for it undoubtedly had its origin in causes quite outside of any educational system.

There is no question but that the increased facilities for communication, resulting from the advent of

steamships and railways, gave to travel an impetus it never before experienced. And as a result thousands of

people in the old country acquired a practical knowledge of Continental life, which would otherwise never

have been theirs. These travellers saw for themselves the perfection of Cookery in countries like France, and

naturally their eyes were opened to the neglect which culinary matters received in their own land; at least, this

seems to me a satisfactory explanation of what has occurred, and I put it forward, therefore, purely as a

matter of personal opinion, and whether this is the right reason or not, it is quite certain that a desire for

It would seem that Mr. Buckmaster gave a series of lectures in the Cookery School at the International

Exhibition in 1873 and 1874. As a considerable portion of space was devoted to food, it was rightly thought

that some practical remark on the subject would prove of distinct advantage. Just about this time, too, in

1874, a good start was made by the establishment of a National Training School for Cookery at South

Kensington. From its inception success seemed to smile upon it. Its numbers began to increase, steadily at

first, and afterwards by leaps and bounds. It clearly filled a place that had been wanting; and moreover, the

objects it had in view were identified with all that was praiseworthy. It was proof positive of the long

Its courses of instruction are for educated persons who desire to qualify themselves to become teachers of

Cookery; for students and cooks; and for those who wish to be able to cook in their own homes. Its

distinctive feature, however, lies in its artisan kitchen. It is by means of this that families, which spend from

seven to twenty shillings weekly in the purchase of food, will be so greatly benefitted. Nothing can exceed

this in importance, for any improvement in the Cookery of the whole bulk of the people becomes a matter of

national welfare. A conspicuous instance of the success which has attended the establishment of the National

Training School for Cookery is the almost annual appearance of a new edition of its handbook, which is

published under its auspices. Therein will be found a most detailed account of the steps necessary for the

preparation of innumerable dishes, and the different instructions are given with a minuteness which leaves

At this period, also, the Masters of the Cooks' Company, not to be outdone in anything calculated to promote

the progress of the culinary art, had several young girls brought from ward schools, and taught in the artisan

kitchen already referred to. Indeed, they were instructed entirely at the expense of the Company. This was

liberality of the most commendable kind, and it is satisfactory to see a corporate body acting in such a

This growing recognition of the importance of Cookery in the old country at last spread to the educational

world, although it has not yet obtained that position which it must eventually acquire; but the ball has been

set rolling in the right path, and the necessity for instruction in the culinary art is so selfevident, that there

can be no doubt as to the ultimate result. It is gratifying in this connection, therefore, to know that the kindred

subject of Elementary Laundry Work has now become part of a girl's education. The Education Code of 1890

contains specific reference to the fact that special and appropriate provision has been made for the practical

teaching of Laundry Work, and is also accompanied by instructions to the effect that the appliances and

methods employed in teaching should be those which are possible in the homes of working people. I have

It would have been a matter of considerable difficulty for a private individual like myself to have collected

authentic information relative to the present status of Cookery in English and Australian schools. Under these

circumstances, therefore, I deemed it best to apply directly to headquarters for official statements. Mr.

Edwin Johnson, the courteous UnderSecretary for Public Instruction in New South Wales, willingly

undertook to place me in possession of all the facts I required as far as England and this colony are

concerned. I shall, therefore, give his account of what is being done in the old country; and next condense

from his remarks the substance of what has taken place in New South Wales with regard to this vital matter.

In England, the Education Department conditionally wants aid to Cookery Instruction in connection with

State Aided Primary Schools under the following stipulations: what provision as to buildings, has been made

for Cookery Instruction in accordance with the conditions prescribed. The Department then grants aid at the

rate of four shillings per head in day schools, and two shillings per head in evening, or, as they are sometimes

called, "continuation" schools, on the number of pupils in the fourth and higher standards presented for

examination in Cookery. The classes are taught by ordinary Primary School Teachers who have been trained

in Cookery work, and have obtained certificates of qualifications. Under the London School Board, Cookery

classes are established in different centres in connection with a large number of the schools; and to a less

extent similar classes are organized by the School Boards of some of the larger country towns. Grants from

In New South Wales, the teaching of Cookery in connection with the Public Schools has long been

advocated; and about ten years ago, special lectures on the subject, and demonstrations, were given under

authority; these did not, however, then lead to any practical results. Early in 1886, Mrs. Fawcett Story, who

had previously taught Cookery successfully in connection with the Sydney Technical College, was appointed,

on probation, lecturer and demonstrator in Cookery and Domestic Economy to the students at Hurlstone

Training College, the object being to qualify such students as Instructors of Cookery for schools in which

they would in the future be employed as teachers. After three months successful work at Hurlstone, Mrs.

Story's appointment was confirmed and she has continued to carry on the work. At first appointed

In 1889 a Cookery class was established at the Fort Street Public School, and this proving successful, the

instruction was extended to other schools. Three classes of work were embodied in the plan arranged to be

1. An Elementary Cookery Course, 2. A Plain, or Intermediate Cookery Course, 3. A Teachers' Course,

In 1891 the work was extended to the Sydney and Suburban Schools. Classes were also established in

connection with those of Bathurst and Goulburn, and arrangements for training a class of Pupil Teachers in

this important work were made and carried out. In 1891 the number under Cookery Instruction in connection

with the school reached 757, and during the year 1892 arrangements were also made for extending Cookery

It should also be remembered that classes for Cookery Instruction have for some years past been established

in connection with the Technical College in Sydney, and more recently in the similar colleges of the larger

As far as Victoria is concerned, I am under considerable obligation to Mr. T. Brodribb, the Secretary of the

Education Office, Melbourne, for the following information. It would appear that although the subject has not

been systematically taught throughout the schools, instruction in Cookery has been given by experts to the

elder female pupils in a number of Metropolitan State Schools for the past two years; two courses of 12

lessons being undertaken in each school between the months of April and November. The instruction has

consisted of the preparation of plain wholesome dishes and sickroom Cookery; the proper care and

arrangement of the various utensils employed forming an important part of each lesson. Reports obtained

from Head Teachers show that, in most cases, the lessons were productive of much benefit to the children,

and were thoroughly appreciated. At present, however, the teaching of the subject has been temporarily

interrupted; but it is to be hoped that before long a recognition of its vital importance will enable measures to

We are drawing nearer and nearer to an appreciation of the power which Cookery wields in the preservation

of health, but this awakening as to its value has been too tardy, indeed, it has been from a slumber of

centuries. Not that good Cookery has not been practised from time immemorial, but its recognition from a

scientific point of view is almost within our own day; and even at the present time, dietetics, or that

department of medicine which relates to food and diet, is only gradually assuming a position which is

destined ultimately to become second to none. Moreover, there is still ample room for improvement in this

direction, and matters will not be rectified till a comprehensive study of food and its preparation, both for the

healthy as well as the sick, is embodied in the curriculum of modern medical education.

Not so long ago The Lancet made reference to the Edinburgh School of Cookery and Domestic Economy,

which had been opened by the Princess Louise. It was pointed out that good cookery had more to do with

health and comfort, and therefore with domestic happiness, than any other known accomplishment. In the

same article, moreover, it was remarked that it would be out of all keeping with the position of Edinburgh as

a medical centre, if the importance, in sickness, of good cookery and suitable food were not fully recognised.

In conclusion, the same authority expressed the hope that this commendable example would be adopted by

All this is satisfactory in showing that the preparation of food for the table is a subject which can no longer be

poohpoohed, and there are other signs and tokens which unmistakably point to the same conclusion. As a

proof of this it is only necessary to point to the fact that eminent physicians have written prefaces to works on

cookery, and more than this, have contributed to the literature of the same. There is a very excellent

handbook by Phillis Browne, to which the late Sir J. Risdon Bennett, a former President of the Royal College

of Physicians, London, contributed the prefatory note. In it he remarks, the value of wholesome and

properlycooked food has never been sufficiently understood or appreciated in the United Kingdom. "In

scarcely any other country," says he, "does so much prejudice and ignorance prevail on the subject of food

and its employment." And in proceeding to speak of the growing tendency to make instruction in cookery a

part of ordinary education, he adds that this must be a subject for sincere rejoicing with those who desire both

the moral and physical welfare of the poorer classes. This is not the only evidence of interest which the same

physician took in this matter, for he has also written an admirable and lengthy article on Food and its Uses in

But there is another writer to whom the English speaking people are deeply indebted for a knowledge of all

that pertains to food and cookery; I refer to Sir Henry Thompson, the eminent London surgeon. His work on

Food and Feeding has already run through six editions, and one can only hope that he will long be enabled to

benefit his race by a succession of issues. He has written other volumes on the same subject, and further, by

his contributions to The Nineteenth Century and The Lancet, he has materially raised the status of the

culinary art. And there are also quite a number of works on diet, and on food, written by wellknown

authorities in the medical world, so that the science of dietetics must eventually attain an unassailable

The preceding naturally leads up to the main point, namely, the controlling influence which cookery exercises

over health. Now if I were asked to name the one single cause which produces more indigestion than

anything else, I should unhesitatingly answer, bad Cookery. Many people Fun away with the idea that good

Cookery is necessarily elaborate Cookery, and that in consequence it is quite beyond the ordinary purse. Such

is not, by any means, the case, and as a matter of fact good Cookery aims at getting the best possible results at

the least possible cost. Herein lies the excellence of French Cookery, and as I have occasion to remark

elsewhere, the bulk of the population in that country live infinitely better than does the average Briton.

Indigestion, then, is the great primary result of bad cookery. But, on the other hand, let us hear what Dr.

Lauder Brunton has to say on the score of food when properly prepared. "Savoury food," says he, "causes the

digestive juices to be freely secreted; well cooked and palatable food is therefore more digestible than

unpalatable, and if the food lacks savour, a desire naturally arises to supply it by condiments, not always well

But important as good Cookery, in itself, may be in its influence upon health, there is still another essential,

which must not be overlooked. And it is that of variety. The oftquoted phrase of toujours perdrix bears upon

this very point. It is a way of saying that even a luscious dish when constantly repeated becomes wearisome,

or, in other words, that there is too much of the same thing over and over again. And if a ceaseless repetition

of the same dish however well it may be cooked palls upon the palate, it is at least certain that it is

equally burdensome to the stomach. Dr. Horace Dobell well expresses this fact when he says that it is of the

highest importance to avoid unnecessarily limiting the variety of food allowed to all persons, but especially to

those of poor appetites and troublesome digestions. Monotonous, uninteresting meals depress the spirits and

Plutarch tells us that Themistocles laughing at his own son, who got his mother, and by his mother's means

his father also, to indulge him, said to the boy that he had the most power of anyone in Greece: "For the

Athenians command the rest of Greece, I command the Athenians, your mother commands me, and you

command your mother." In the same way it is easy to make a defective system of education responsible for

much of the existing drunkenness. First of all we have a scheme of education which fails to provide

instruction in a girl's domestic duties; then we have the wife who undertakes the task for which she has never

been properly trained; next, instead of wellcooked and very much varied meals, we have a conspicuous and

a disastrous failure; and finally, we have the breadwinner driven to the publichouse and happiness has

left that home for ever. But this is an old story, yet, unfortunately, it is a true one; and it will continue to be

true until a clearer perception of what a domestic training should be is more universally recognised. I am sure

that I do not exaggerate when I say that millions of our Englishspeaking race are living this life without the

slightest glimmering of what domestic content might be theirs. Surely the word "home" for the artisan should

signify something more than a place where he is badly fed. Still, it is a solemn fact that no more concrete

definition of the word has ever been forthcoming. Now, such a state of affairs cannot be excused on the score

It has already been mentioned that the late Sir J. Risdon Bennett did not think it beneath his dignity to write a

prefatory note to a Cookery Book. He has also pointed out that Cookery is a subject which deserves more

attention at the hands of those who have the welfare of temperance at heart. He believed that a knowledge of

wholesome Cookery would do much to make home happy; to keep the men away from dissipation and

intemperance; and to make the children healthy and cheerful. The same idea is expressed by Sylvester, who

remarked that Cookery should be most popular, because every individual human being is directly interested

in its success. As he says, the real comfort of the majority of men is sought for in their own homes, and every

effort should be made to increase domestic happiness by inducing them to remain at home. And long, long

ago a quaint old book, Markham's English Housewife, published in 1637, contained the idea in a nutshell, as

the following quotation will show: "To speak, then, of the knowledges which belong to our English

housewife, I hold the most principal to be a perfect skill in Cookery. She that is utterly ignorant therein, may

not, by the laws of strict justice, challenge the freedom of marriage because, indeed, shee can perform but

half her vow shee may love and obey, but shee cannot cherish and keepe her husband."

Opinions such as these are based on the soundest common sense, indeed no one could honestly oppose them.

But it powerfully adds to their weight to find them thoroughly endorsed by the representative medical

authority of The British Medical Journal and The Lancet; the former has from time to time insisted upon the

selfsame truths, and strenuously urged their practical adoption. These contributions are somewhat too

lengthy for complete reproduction, but the views expressed may be briefly referred to. It was maintained that

English people have much to learn from the French methods of Cookery; that these are not merely tasteful

and appetising, but that they are extremely economical; that materials which the English housewife throws

away as useless, her French sister skilfully converts into toothsome and nutritious food; and that it is only an

increased knowledge of Cookery which the poor need to render life more agreeable.

The Lancet also, in an admirable article on "Culinary Civilisation," spoke of the need of women becoming

acquainted with the modes of concocting palatable food, if they wished to maintain their domestic power. It

was further pointed out that if the husband was to be prevented from neglecting his family, the wife must see

that he had wellcooked food at home. And lastly, it was tellingly set forth that when women had fully

mastered this lesson a step in civilisation would have been gained, which would show in increased health,

But I cannot conclude this portion without a special reference to some remarks by Madame Emilie

LebourFawssett. They occur in her most admirable book French Cookery for Ladies, and are so sensible

that they should never be forgotten. "I like," says Madame, "to place before my husband, who has been hard

at work all day long, a nice tempting dinner, very much varied and well cooked; and I cannot, repeat it too

often, it is one of the strongest ties of home life, and I am sure many a man in the day, when he is most busy,

unconsciously smiles inwardly at the prospect of the nice little dinner awaiting him at home, when his hard

day's work is over. Small, dainty, wellmade dishes gratify your husband's appetite, help to keep him healthy,

In another part of the book, a little farther on, she remarks: "One of my chief objects also is to teach the

great mass of people to make better use of the numberless good things there are to be obtained, and thereby

keep their husbands away from the publichouse. It stands to reason that if a man who has worked all day

comes home and finds nothing warm and appetising prepared for him, he will go away quicker than he came,

and spend at the first hotel the money he would otherwise have gladly spent on his family if his wife had tried

and knew how to make him comfortable; and, there is no denying it, the greatest comforts a man can have

after a day's work, be it manual labour or brain work, are a good meal and a quiet corner in which to smoke

Yet, valuable as it may be in all these foregoing respects, Cookery has something more to recommend it,

which gives it precedence before everything else in education; and though this is saying a great deal, I shall

endeavour to demonstrate that it is perfectly true. I have already shown that Cookery is of superlative benefit,

both in ensuring health and in acting as a preventive against habits of intemperance. But it is as a medium for

training that Cookery is at its very best; for it is in reality an art; indeed, it is a master art. At the same time,

also, it is a science the science of applied chemistry. There are no other elements of education which thus

To commence with, Cookery requires accuracy. The instructions given with any recipe are sufficient to show

this. They tell you to take so much of each thing, to proceed in a certain way, and even what time to take in

the cooking. It also calls for attention to detail. Carelessness in Cookery is just one of the rocks on which

disaster occurs. An English duke, an ambassador at Paris, was desirous of giving the corps diplomatique the

treat of a real English plum pudding. The fullest directions were given to his chef all, indeed, with the

exception of mentioning the puddingcloth. When the eventful time arrived for its appearance, to his dismay

several stately cooks appeared, each carrying a tureen of darklooking fluid. The omission of the

puddingcloth was fatal. Cleanliness is another of the cardinal virtues of Cookery. The very thought of

anything else would be repulsive. By the way, that fine old saying, "Cleanliness is next to Godliness," does

not come from the Scriptures, as many suppose, but from one of John Wesley's sermons.

Cookery also exacts punctuality for have we not BrillatSavarin's dictum that of all the qualities

necessary for a cook the most indispensable is punctuality? If any important matter connected with the

process of Cookery be not attended to at the exact moment it is required, nothing can afterwards rectify it. A

little delay in attending to this thing, or a little delay in attending to that thing, and whatever is being cooked

is irretrievably spoiled. And, moreover, it is not to be forgotten that cookery is of signal benefit in inculcating

the advantages of a wise economy. With proper Cookery nothing should be allowed to go to waste, nothing

should be thrown away, unless it be absolutely useless. There should be good housewifery; everything, even

the veriest scraps, may be turned to the best account. The stock pot will absorb many nutritious and

wholesome odds and ends, which would otherwise be consigned to the dirtbox. The loss that actually takes

place in many kitchens is without the shadow of an excuse; sometimes the best part of a cold joint is

But there is still something else to be urged on behalf of Cookery, and of School Cookery in particular, which

places it immeasurably before even the preceding. I have claimed for Cookery that it develops certain habits

which are of the greatest importance in the formation of character; yet, as I have just remarked, there is

something more than this, which renders it of priceless value, and of what this consists I shall do my best to

Every one who has the welfare of Australia and of Australians at heart must feel no little concern at that

growing indifference to domestic life which is so much the characteristic of our girls. Once a girl has left

school, she seems to think that the household is no longer any place for her; she consequently ceases to take

any interest whatever in the many matters which constitute the management of a home: her one aim is to get

into " business," as it is called. It appears to be immaterial whether she is to be a dressmaker, or milliner, or

saleswoman, or employee in a large establishment, as long as she gets away from home.

Now, all this is greatly to be deplored, and has a disastrous influence over the whole of Australian family life,

because it must happen that many of these girls eventually marry, and commence their new existence under

the most unfavourable conditions. In the first place, they are totally ignorant of everything connected with

household management, and what is far worse, they have almost a contempt for it. What the result is, in too

many cases, I have already dwelt upon, either the husband and the family suffer from the effects of bad

Cookery, and unhappiness and illhealth follow, or else the breadwinner flies to alcohol in order to forget

It must not be imagined however, that this condition of affairs is altogether beyond remedy, and that our

Australian girls are hopeless in this respect. No, on the contrary, those of whom I have just spoken are as

attractive and fascinating as Australian girls always are; but it is a thousand pities that they do not possess a

greater appreciation of the importance of home life. Still, after all, may it not be that our educational system

is defective in that it does not implant all through a girl's school life a love of Cookery, and of domestic

management? It is during this impressionable age that all these truths can be so well indoctrinated. Indeed, I

am thoroughly convinced that one of the greatest defects in the superlatively scientific education of today,

as far as the girls are concerned, is the neglect which these matters receive; for it stands to reason that if they

And, further, it should not be forgotten that a cook is always able to command high wages. That is a fact

which should not be lost sight of, although perhaps it is some what mercenary. A cook need never fear but

that she will always be in constant employment. Ah, yes! Max O'Rell got in a home thrust when he declared

that "the average woman who finds herself alone in the world could earn her living if she could cook but

IT is somewhat curious that, among the many questions which pertain to the national life of Australia, little,

if any, attention has been directed to the influences which the daily food and habitual dietary exercise upon

the present, and in what way they will affect the future population. And yet it must be apparent that the life of

a nation is moulded in no small degree by its daily fare, by its general food habits, and still more by the fact

of its living in conformity with, or in direct opposition to, its climatic requirements. It is evident that the

natural dietary of the earth's inhabitants is controlled largely by the particular region in which they dwell.

Thus the Hindoos, and contiguous Eastern nations, subsist mainly upon the cereals, in which rice plays so

prominent a part. The Greenlander's fare, on the contrary, consists almost entirely of oils and fats; indeed, on

this point Sir Anthony Carlisle relates the following anecdote: "The most Northern races of mankind," says

he, "were found to be unacquainted with the taste of sweets, and their infants made wry faces and sputtered

out sugar with disgust, but the little urchins grinned with ecstasy at the sight of a bit of whale's blubber." In

the same way the Arab is a dateeater and the Kaffir is a milk consumer. These facts being borne in mind, it

will be desirable to ascertain whether the usual food habits obtaining in Australia are those which the nature

of the climate renders advisable. If, as a result of such an inquiry, it be demonstrated that the dietary customs

followed here are not in harmony with the climatic conditions, it would, perhaps, be well to suggest in what

A reference to the isothermal lines in any physical atlas will be of considerable value in assisting us to the

elucidation of the subject under consideration. These are certain lines drawn over a chart of the earth's

surface, on which are located those cities and regions where the mean annual temperature is the same. Thus

the mean annual temperature of Sydney is 62.9�; the corresponding line in the northern world runs through

Naples and Lisbon in Europe, and a little below the central portion of the United States and California in

America. At Melbourne the average yearly temperature is 57.6�, corresponding in the old world to a

temperature met with at Marseilles, Bordeaux, the south of France and Northern Italy, while across the

Atlantic a somewhat similar climate obtains about the middle of the United States. The mean annual

temperature at Brisbane is 67.74�; this is the same as that of Algiers and the southern shores of the

Mediterranean generally, and coincides with that met with in New Orleans and the southern states of North

America. At Adelaide the average yearly temperature is 63.1�, and the climate is considered to greatly

resemble that of Sicily. Now, no other mode that I am aware of, such as this juxtaposition of localities where

the mean annual temperature is the same, will afford such a convenient way of contrasting the mode of living

which is practised in Australia with that which is followed by the inhabitants of the regions referred to in

Europe. The cardinal difference, and one which stands out in bold relief, is that the Australian food habits are

characterised by a preponderancy of meat diet and a corresponding neglect of vegetable products. On the

other hand, the dietary of Southern Europe is in rational harmony with its climate, and there is not that

insensate insistence of a highly nitrogenous animal fare to the exclusion of all else. The striking features,

then, in connection with the Australian dietary are this extraordinary consumption of meat and the faith which

is presumably attached to its food value. It is no exaggeration to say that the vast majority of our people

believe implicitly in the necessity for meat at their three daily mealy, and not only is this the case in the

cooler parts of the year, but it is practised universally during the height of the summer, without being

modified in the slightest degree. Thus the student of ethnography is presented with the somewhat curious

anomaly of a people living in a summer temperature of 70� or 80� in the shade, eating more meat than do the

bulk of the inhabitants of Great Britain and Ireland (with their ice and snow) during their winter months. It is

one of the characteristics of the AngloSaxon race, however, this inability to appreciate the necessity of

conforming to new climatic conditions in which their lot may be cast. It will be the same, too, when the

British restaurantkeeper begins business in Equatorial Africa. For an absolute certainty his billoffare for

the delectation of the unfortunate colonist will consist of roast beef, Yorkshire pudding, plum pudding, and

the old familiar throng. Whether mine host has to consult the taste of his client, or whether the latter has

simply to accept what is proffered, is not absolutely decided; probably they are both imbued with a belief in

the necessity of solid fare, regarding it as a solemn truth beyond all possibility of cavil.

This abuse of flesh food in a climate like Australia would be serious enough under any circumstances, but it

is intensified and aggravated by the direct unoriginality in dealing with meat. Is it not a fact that there is no

attempt whatever made to break through the conventional chain of joints, roasted or boiled, and the inevitable

grill or fry? In how many houses does the breakfast ever consist of anything but the ubiquitous chops, steaks,

or sausages? indeed, one might almost term them "the faith, hope, and charity" of domestic life. I remember

reading some little time ago that if a map of the world were made in which lands of utter darkness were

coloured black like the coalfields in an atlas of physical geography, certain races would be signalised by their

opaqueness. If such a map were ever compiled, Australia would of necessity be characterised by blackness;

such a blackness, indeed, that jet itself would be as snowy white beside it. But why should this lamentable

state of things be said of Australians, who claim to be progressive in their ideas and advanced in their views,

In conjunction with this dietetic view of the matter, one of the objects I have in writing is to direct attention to

the great neglect there is of vegetables, especially those of the more unknown varieties, as an agreeable,

desirable, palatable, and salutary element in the Australian food life. One need not be a vegetarian to properly

appreciate the valuable properties of vegetables, and most people will fare better and feel the benefit of a

modification of their customary dietary if they decrease the amount of meat they indulge in and

proportionately increase their vegetable allowance. Now, there are many vegetables besides those ordinarily

in use which might be easily cultivated, and serve to form a pleasing variety at table. Once the demand arises

for kinds other than those usually grown, the inducement for marketgardeners to supply them would be no

longer wanting. A reference to the catalogues furnished by the seedsmen and plantmerchants of the different

Australian metropolitan cities will show that special attention is called to many of these vegetables, and yet I

am informed that, although they are continually inserted in the new issues as they appear from time to time,

no notice seems to be taken of them whatever. I propose, therefore, briefly to describe some of these

comparatively unknown vegetables, and to point out their merits and their claims for recognition.

The globe artichoke might be more frequently grown, as it is really a good vegetable and easily cooked. It

constitutes the flower head of the Cynara scolymus (one of the thistle family), and is gathered before the

flowers expand. The ends of the flower scales attached to the disc, and the central disc itself, are the parts that

are eaten, and they constitute a delicately flavoured vegetable. It is extensively cultivated in California, and is

there to be met with in nearly all hotels and restaurants. Another thing in its favour is that it is peculiarly one

of the vegetables which diabetics may indulge in without fear. It does well in the cooler parts of Australia,

The Jerusalem artichoke is not to be confused with the preceding, as it belongs to a different vegetable genus

altogether. It is a species of sunflower, as its name denotes, the prefix Jerusalem being in reality a corruption

of the Italian word girasole, a sunflower. It resembles the potato in that it is a tuberousrooted vegetable, and

grows readily enough in fact, perhaps it grows too readily, for once it takes possession of the soil it is

difficult to eradicate it. The Jerusalem artichoke, however, is comparatively common here, and when cooked

properly it is a most delightful vegetable, although it may not be sufficiently appreciated at first. It often

happens that these artichokes are of a bad colour, and too crisp when brought to table. This is easily

prevented, however, by washing and paring them like potatoes and then placing them in a bowl of clear

water, to which a few drops of fresh lemon juice have been added. When boiled with sufficient water to just

cover them, and a liberal allowance of salt, for 20 min. to 40 min., they come out a snowy white and quite

tender. They are especially delicious when served up with melted butter and egg sauce.

Asparagus. Although this delicate and luscious vegetable is of the easiest culture, and grows readily along

the coast, yet to our shame be it said that it is usually too much of a luxury for ordinary mortal, to afford.

Now, it is for the most part such a general favourite that one may well ask why it is not more cultivated. The

demand for it in America is so great, and it yields such a good return, that some growers, make 100 and

upwards yearly profit for each acre. Is it not a severe reflection upon our market gardeners, to find that the

imported preserved varieties of asparagus are so esculent that the very stalks, are as, luscious as the heads of

the vegetable? In its fresh state it should be eaten as soon after cutting as possible, and, like the globe

artichoke, is readily allowable to diabetics. It is somewhat curious, too, that the asparagus, and the globe

Brussels sprouts are the most delicate of all the borecoles, and it is a thousand pities that this delightful

vegetable is not more often to be met with. These miniature, cabbages, however, require some little care in

their rearing, and hence amateurs often fail to reach perfection in their cultivation. They may be boiled like

cabbage, in abundance of water and a little salt for 15 minutes, then drained, dried, and finally tossed in butter

with a little pepper and nutmeg. They do well enough, as does the borecole or kale itself, in all the cooler

The cardoon, like the globe artichoke, belongs to the thistle family, yet it is, more hardy and robust than the

latter. It is readily grown, particularly in the cooler districts, and, like many other of the more unknown

vegetables, is too much neglected. Its leafstalks should be at least an inch and a half thick before they are

ready for cutting. They are then blanched, and when cooked recall somewhat the flavour of the globe

artichoke. These tender leafstalks are used in soups and salads, and it may be boiled also in a similar manner

The celeriac or turniprooted celery is a very choice vegetable, and is much cultivated on the Continent. Its

nutty root is not at all unlike the solid root portion of common celery in taste, which by many is considered

superior in flavour to the other parts of the latter plant. The celeriac is greatly esteemed, and is known as the

celerirave by the French, and as the knollselerie by the Germans. The latter, indeed, are so fond of it that

they call barely talk of it without moist eyes and watery mouths. It is hardier than celery, and possesses an

advantage in that it can be taken up and stored similarly to carrots and beets. The celerific may be boiled as a

table vegetable or used for flavouring soups, or it may be sliced for salads. It does well in all the cooler parts,

The egg plant, or aubergine, does so exceedingly well, and can be so highly recommended, that one may well

wonder why it is never seen. It is a native of Africa and tropical America, and is very popular both in the East

and West Indies. It is cultivated also a great deal in the United States, where it is greatly appreciated for

culinary use. In aubergines farcies, a favourite dish, they are cut in hakes, the centres chopped and put back

into the skins with oil, They are then sprinkled with breadcrumbs, and browned. It is easily grown, and it

The kohl rabi, or turniprooted cabbage, is another nutritious vegetable which has inexplicably never been

received into public favour. Its delicate flavour should ensure for it a wellestablished position with those

who are fond of good vegetables, as it is more tender and more savoury than either turnip or cabbage, and is

not at all unlike cauliflower in taste. For table purposes it should be only about twothirds grown, for if

allowed to go to full size the outside skin becomes tough and hard. It is another of those vegetables which are

so highly prized on the Continent, and it is already an acknowledged favourite in America. It does well in all

The salsify, or "vegetable oyster," is a typical example of a most unaccountably slighted vegetable with us,

and yet it is highly appreciated on the continent and in the United States. The root is long and tapering,

becoming fleshy and tender by cultivation, and with a whitish, milkylike juice. It has a rich flavour, not at

all unlike that of cooked oysters, whence it derives its value. In preparing salsify for table the darkish outside

skin requires to be lightly scraped off, and then it should be steeped for a while in cold water so as to remove

any slight bitterness it may possess. Like parsnips, when cooked it requires to be boiled slowly, in the

smallest possible quantity of water, until it is almost ready to melt. If boiled fast, in abundance of water, the

savour of both parsnips and salsify is to a great extent dispersed and lost beyond recall. One of the most

approved methods of cooking salsify roots is to slowly boil them to tenderness in the smallest possible

quantity of milk, and then to mash and fry them in butter, with salt and pepper. Cold boiled salsify, with the

addition of some chopped herbs, tarragon vinegar, and salad oil, makes an exceedingly good salad. The

Scorzonera. This Spanish plant is very similar to salsify, and requires the same kind of treatment; but,

being a stronger grower, requires more room in its culture. It may be served in soups or treated like salsify.

The outside leaves should be removed before the vegetable is cooked. The blanched leaves also are highly

esteemed on the Continent, and are used for salad purposes. It grows well in all the cooler parts of Australia,

Sea kale is one of those vegetables which are brought to perfection in England, so much so that Careme, that

mighty chef, when he came across them in London went into ecstasies. He described them as resembling

branches of celery, which should be served like asparagus, with butter sauce, after 20 minutes' boiling. In

some respects this is verily the most delicious of all vegetables, and as it grows well here it should be largely

cultivated, yet it is almost unknown. It is fit to rank with, if not precede, asparagus, and as a matter of fact it

is far more profitable than the latter, so that market gardeners would have something to gain by its

introduction. Like the cabbage, it was originally a maritime plant, and has been brought to its present state of

perfection by cultivation. It requires to be thoroughly blanched by exclusion from light, similarly to celery,

for when coloured at all it possesses an acrid taste. Of the many ways of sending it to table, one of the best is

to boil it and serve it on toast with a little melted butter. It should be largely cultivated, as it does well all

Sweet corn is deservedly a great favourite with those who know of its succulent flavour and nourishing

properties. Unfortunately, however, it is with us only in the imported tins from America, and therefore we can

only conjecture how delicious it must be when fresh. It is so commonly met with in the fresh form in

America that it is found at nearly every dinner table. Large areas where land is not expensive are devoted to

its growth, and hundreds of acres are required annually for the New York markets alone. It does splendidly in

all parts of Australia, and for growing children it constitutes one of the most nutritious vegetables that can be

well imagined. On this latter account alone, therefore, it is really a matter for national regret that it is so

improperly passed over. One thing requires to be borne in mind, and it is that the cobs of ordinary Indian corn

which are seen in so many country districts must not be confused with this sweet corn, as the latter is entirely

These nutritious, although somewhat unknown vegetables, therefore, evidently deserve to be brought into

prominent notice, and once public interest is aroused, their cultivation and ready sale will speedily follow. At

the same time it must not be forgotten that the tomato itself had a desperate struggle for reception into public

favour when first introduced to us. It actually trembled in the balance for no inconsiderable time, and it was

some years before its good qualities were universally recognised. Today, however, it occupies a very

different position, and takes rank as a luscious vegetable, appreciated by thousands of people; and besides, it

is of undoubted value in many disorders of the liver. But now that the Agricultural Colleges are in full swing

in the different colonies, notably in New South Wales, Victoria, and South Australia, it is certain that the

greatest possible good to the whole community will result. Their effect, too, in indirectly populating the

agricultural areas of Australia will materially aid the great work of decentralisation.

But apart altogether from this matter of the introduction of vegetables which have hitherto been overlooked is

another which is hardly less important. I refer to the crude cookery which is bestowed on the ordinary

vegetables at present in daily use. That there is sny monotony in an endless recurrence of boiled potatoes,

boiled cabbage, boiled this and boiled that, never seems to occur to the vast majority of people in this

country, who seem incapable of understanding that these different vegetables are worthy of being served in

an infinite number of ways. It will doubtless shock those who cling to this beliefs but the following remarks

by Dr. Mitchell, an English physician practising in Paris, directed against his own countrymen be it

understood, are forcible enough: "The plain boiled potato," says he, "whatever else it may be, is clearly a

cattle food; so for the matter of that are cabbages, carrots, turnips, beans, peas, and almost every other

vegetable when plain boiled. None of them in that condition would be "refused by a cow in fair appetite."

Now, there are so many appetising ways of preparing vegetables for table, and at no additional expense, that

it is lamentable to find people offering no protest against this feeble exhibition of culinary skill. Why, if there

be nothing in the preparation of vegetables for the table beyond plain boiling, it must be acknowledged that

Cookery has made mighty little progress since the time it first came into existence.

Having seen, then, what faults exist and what improvements might be made, it may well be asked how these

latter are to be brought about, or, rather, how can Australians be induced to life in accordance with climatic

requirements? The answer Is by no means easy. It may be said, in truth, that till the great mass of the people

recognise their food faults, reform will not be of a national character. As I have already said, the acceptation

of that valuable and nutritious vegetable fruit, the tomato, took years to accomplish. In the same way, I fear, a

universal recognition that excessive meat indulgence is a climatic error will take many decades before it is an

article of national belief. In the schools, Cookery must form an allimportant part of a girl's education not a

superficial knowledge of the science, but practical instruction, thorough, complete, real. The dietetic

properties of meat, vegetables, of salad vegetables, and of fruit, from an Australian standpoint, should be so

thoroughly inculcated that a proper conception of their respective food values should remain for a lifetime.

The prizes for proficiency and excellence in culinary matters, too, should be such as to render them worth the

Is it not strange that so far ingenuity, universal approval, or general consensus of opinions call it what you

will, has not up till the present given us an Australian national dish? Although tea and damper instinctively

arise in the mind when the matter is referred to, yet I take it that we would all repel such an accusation if

levelled against us. Does the Australian, moreover, away from his native land perpetuate his patriotism by oft

partaking of this pastoral fare? Certainly not. Well, when this national dish is composed and formally

approved of by the nation, let us devoutly trust that it will be a mace'doine of vegetables, or a vegetable curry,

or some wellconcocted salad. It is true that in one of the cookery books I have seen a dish of peaches,

dubbed Pe'ches a' l'Australienne. It is a sort of compote of peaches, but to the best of my belief it is simply

ANYONE looking backwards upon the history of Australia cannot fail to be impressed by one peculiar

feature, which is the more distinctive, too, because it is in striking contrast with all else. It is the more

noteworthy also, because it affects each individual inhabitant of this island continent, and has a direct bearing

on the daily life of every person is the community. Thus, on the one hand, while we are nearing a maximum

of progress or, at any rate, attaining to a high level of success in political matters, in commercial

affairs, and in athletic prowess, yet, on the other, there is unfortunately an apathetic indifference in all that

concerns our public and family food habits, which after all constitute the national characteristics of any

people. It is true that we have gained the dignity of responsible government, that our wool and frozen meat

are entering the markets of the world, and that in the athletic arena our fame is spread both far and wide. Yet

it must be confessed that our national foodlife has not conformed to climatic requirements in the slightest

degree since the memorable day on which Captain Cook set foot on these shores. As those on the Endeavour

lived then, so live are now. On the continent of Europe it will be found that the manners and customs, even of

contiguous countries, are as widely different as it is possible to imagine. Surely then, it is, to say the least of

it, curious to see the inhabitants of a semitropical country like Australia living in wilful contradiction to

their climatic necessities, and eating the same kind of food as did their fathers in the old land, with its

Yet, notwithstanding the fact that reflections of this kind are interesting in the highest degree, I propose to do

no more than consider the matter exclusively from the standpoint of the subject heading of this chapter. Here,

again, we are directly confronted with an inexplicable anomaly I refer to the want of enterprise shown in

developing the deepsea fisheries of Australia. Now, if the dwellers of this land had sprung from an entirely

inland race, this would not, perhaps, have been so difficult to understand; but arising, as we do, from a stock

the most maritime that the world has ever seen, such a defect redounds not to our credit as inheritors of the

old traditions. At our present rate of fisheries development it will take centuries before we will be able to

produce anything to even approach the International Fisheries exhibition of the old country in 1883. At that

memorable exposition His Royal Highness the Duke of Edinburgh, in the course of his conference paper,

gave expression to the following stirring words: "From the earliest ages the inhabitants of the coast of the

British Islands have made the sea contribute to their food. This pursuit has produced a race of men strong,

inured to hardship and exposure, patient and persevering in their calling, brave, prompt, and fall of resource

in the face of danger; intelligent and amenable to discipline, from the daily habit of subordinating their own

wills to that of anyone whom they know is placed in authority over them for the, purpose of directing their

labours and working with them for the common benefit; accustomed to cooperate with others for the

attainment of a certain end. These qualities are not only exercised from early youth, but are inherited and

intensified from generation to generation. The foundations of the great position which this kingdom has

attained amongst the nations of the world must, in some measure, be attributed to our fishermen, for they

were our first seamen; and, from small beginnings, our seamen increased in number and in skill, until the

whole nation was leavened with that love of maritime adventure which has resulted in peopling the uttermost

parts of the earth with our race, and in establishing that empire upon which the sun never ceases to shine. In

earlier times our first maritime commerce must have been conducted by our fishermen, who also manned our

fighting navies. The fisheries of the West of England were the nurseries of the sailors who enabled Drake to

circumnavigate the world, and, as he said, to 'singe the King of Spain's beard' on more than one memorable

That fish should be, comparatively speaking, so scarce in Australia can only be regarded in the light of a

national calamity. And not only is the supply deficient, but what little there may be is so outrageously

expensive that it is hopelessly beyond the reach of an ordinary purse. It is so excessive in cost that it must

almost be bracketed with poultry as a luxury only to be indulged in after lengthened periods. I have been told,

when making inquiries on this point, that the reason why fish is so dear is that this is not a fisheating

community, and that consequently there is no demand for it. But, on the other hand, I find that almost

everyone I ask is really fond of fish, and that they do not eat it simply because they cannot obtain it at a

But this same scarcity of fish has exercised other people besides myself, for Mr. Alexander Oliver and many

others have repeatedly drawn attention to the same deficiency. It has been the primary origin of a Board of

Fisheries, it had brought forth Parliamentary Select Committees, and it has produced endless opinions and

suggestions on the part of the public. Now, I am quite willing to admit that there should be proper supervision

over the working of the Fisheries Acts, and that existing grievances should be rectified; but, with all due

deference, it seems to me that the finger has not been placed on the exact reason why failure occurs in our

fish supply. For I say this, that you may do what you will to protect and supervise the shore and inland

fisheries, and you may even increase the yield from these sources to an encouraging extent, but that till the

deepsea work is thoroughly taken up and properly developed there will be no cheap fish for Australia. It has

been stated that if the deepsea fisheries of the United Kingdom fell through from any reason, halfamillion

of its inhabitants would be brought face to face with starvation. And even these enormous figures include

only the fisherfolk themselves, and do not take into account the vast army of buyers, curers, dealers, who

are dependent for their very existence upon the fishing industry. Take away the deepsea fisheries from the

old country, and its whole fish supply would practically be at an end. In the same way by the development of

our Australian deepsea fisheries and by the development of the deepsea fisheries only will it be

possible, in my humble opinion, to increase the supply and cheapen the price of fish so that it will form part

There was an important select committee appointed by the Victorian Government, a short time ago, to inquire

into the unsatisfactory condition of the fishing industry there. It examined a great number of witnesses, and

its investigations extended over a large area. Amongst other things, with a view of encouraging trawling

"That a careful survey be made of the seabottom in the neighbourhood of our coasts and in Bass' Straits, and

the part suitable for trawling properly charted. That a few sets of trawling apparatus of the most modern kind

be procured by the Government, and Applications invited from the fishermen at the various ports for

permission to use these trawls, free of charge, under certain conditions for a limited period. That the

Government fit out a steamer for the purpose of collecting and conveying to Melbourne the fish obtained by

A number of different matters were also considered, and, in addition, it was thought that, in order to afford

the general public greater facilities for obtaining fish, the sale should not be confined to the metropolitan

market. It was, therefore, recommended that stalls in the various markets for the sale of fish by auction and

otherwise should be opened in the leading suburbs of Melbourne; and that the corporation officer in the

metropolitan market, to whom the fish was consigned, should regularly distribute to each of these suburban

markets such a quantity of fish as experience would show the particular locality demanded. To a certain

extent all this is very satisfactory, but unfortunately select committees have arrived at very similar

conclusions over and over again. All their recommendations have never yet been attended by any practical

result, and an adequate fish supply for Australia appears to be as far off as ever.

About the last place one would expect to come across a really fine piece of delicate humour is amongst

official correspondence, and yet in a formal letter from Dr. E.P. Ramsay, the Curator of the Australian

Museum, to Sir Saul Samuel the following passage occurs. Speaking of the New South Wales exhibits at the

International Fisheries Exhibition of London, 1883, the doctor proceeds to remark: "People here,

imagining that we must have already developed extensive fisheries, from the large collection of food fishes

which we exhibit, were not less surprised at our very limited materials and methods of capture than at the

immense undeveloped wealth of our fisheries and fish fauna." Now, I venture to say that a more

unconsciously subtle insinuation at the crude methods of fish capture at present employed in our Australian

fisheries was never penned. But what makes it so keenly effective is that it really hits the right nail on the

head. In giving evidence, also, before Mr. Frank Farnell's select committee of 1889, Dr. Ramsay, upon being

asked whether he thought our fishermen were abreast of the times with regard to appliances, replied:

To my mind another most convincing proof of the crude methods of fish capture employed in Australian

waters is to be found in the following. In one of the Fisheries Reports it is gravely recorded that "some very

valuable gear in general use amongst English, Norwegian, and American fishermen, had been destroyed in

the Garden Palace fire, but that the commissioners had been able to replace the ottertrawl and the

beamtrawl." The very fact that these appliances, in active use at the present time by those in the foremost

front of fishery enterprise, are regarded in the light of curiosities in Australia, proves only too forcibly the

It must not be imagined that trawling has never been advocated (indeed, it has even been experimentally

practised), for we have only to look through the various Fisheries Reports to find it repeatedly referred to;

unfortunately, however, these appeals so far have been without any practical results. It will, therefore, be

most instructive to refer briefly to the manner in which trawling and other modes of deepsea fishing are

carried out elsewhere; and more particularly to bring under notice the enormous fish yield effected by them.

Trawling, or as it is more properly termed, beamtrawling, may be described as a method of deepsea

fishing, in which a large bag net is towed along the ground so as to scoop, as it were, the fish into its

receptacle. There are at least several important stations in England for trawling; some in the English Channel;

some on the west, and also on the Welsh coast; and others again (amongst which is Grimsby, the largest

fishing port in the world) on the east coast on the North Sea. The trawling grounds of the latter are widely

known, and comprise the famous Dogger Bank, which covers many hundreds of acres in area. In its

neighbourhood, also, there are numerous grounds such as the Inner and Outer Well Banks, and there are

others again nearer the English coast. In addition to these there is the Great Silver Pit, discovered in a severe

winter in 1843; and it has been noticed that during the winter months the fish frequent the deeper water,

because the temperature is more equable than in shallow places. The depth at which trawling is usually

carried on varies from 20 to 30 fathoms; never under any circumstances reaching 50 fathoms the depth of

It was formerly urged against trawling that it was very destructive to the spawn, at that time supposed to be

lying on the sea bottom. But the investigations of the late Professor Sars, for the Swedish Government, into

the spawning habits of sea fish, have conclusively revealed the fact that the ova of fish float on the surface of

the water during the whole period of their development. Not only have the floating ova of the cod and

haddock been reared, but the common plaice, the representative of the flatfish family, including the brill, the

sole, and the turbot, is also known to spawn near the surface. The eggs of the mackerel and the garfish have

likewise been found floating, and successfully hatched. Now, no fish comes so close to the land as does the

mackerel, yet it is certain that it never makes its way into the estuaries and inlets till after spawning is

finished for that it spawns in the open sea is almost without a doubt. These facts consequently do away

altogether with the old statements concerning the destructive results of trawling.

The yield from the English trawleries alone is computed to be over 200,000 tons annually, and as the price for

trawled fish at the Billingsgate market averages �12 per ton, this represents about two and a half million

pounds. And, in addition to these weighty figures, Professor Huxley's words deserve to be well remembered,

for, says he, "Were trawl fishing stopped, it would no longer be a case of high prices, but that ninetynine out

of a hundred would hardly be able to afford any at all herrings and a few other fish caught in the old way

excepted." Indeed, it is chiefly by this method of beam trawling that London and the interior are supplied

with brill, turbot, and soles; while by it thousands of tons of plaice, haddock, and other fish are brought

Important though the beamtrawl may be, there is another mode of deepsea fishing which deserves to be

well known by us in Australia, and which undoubtedly must come into general use before we can make any

pretensions with regard to our fisheries. I refer to that by means of driftnets. As the trawl is absolutely

necessary, on the one hand, for capturing fish which frequent the bottom, so, on the other, the driftnet is

essential for those whose resort is the upper portion of the sea. It is by this method alone that fish like the

herring, the mackerel, and the pilchard which may be termed surface fish are caught in great quantities

Now, in Australia, we have vast shoals of migratory fish visiting the coast at different periods of the year.

During the winter season enormous numbers of herrings come to these shores, and are permitted to depart

without any effort being made to capture them. Attention has been repeatedly called to this strange neglect in

our fisheries, for this herring is plentiful and is considered to surpass the famous Scottish herring itself in

flavour. The mackerel, too, is to be met with annually, generally about midwinter, in immense shoals, passing

near the coast upwards in a northerly direction. The sea mullet also makes its appearance towards the end of

the summer months, usually from April to June, at the very time when it is in splendid condition and full of

roe. It is always observed to be proceeding towards the north in successive shoals and in great numbers.

Many consider its richness and delicacy of flavour to be unequalled. The driftnet system of fishing would be

well adapted for it if the meshes were larger than those for the herring as when fully grown it is nearly

two feet in length. And lastly, it will only be necessary to speak of the "maray," which is practically the

English pilchard. As with the fish just mentioned, it is met with about midwinter, passing up north in

As the name implies, driftnets are not worked from the shore, but they are "shot," as the saying is, in the

open sea, and allowed to drift in whatever direction the tide may take them. Each driftnet will measure

about 180 feet in length by about 30 feet in depth. They are secured to one another at the ends to form a long

single line, perhaps two miles in length. By means of floats the nets hang perpendicularly in the water, thus

forming a long wall against which the fish "strike," and get enmeshed by being caught in the gill opening.

The nets are kept on the stretch by being "shot" in the face of the wind, and the vessel from which they are

paid out, being to leeward of them, drifts more rapidly than they do, and consequently keeps them well

My object, however, is not so much to enter into the details of these different methods of deepsea fishing as

to indicate their value and necessity, if we are to have any fisheries worth speaking of. I shall, therefore, do

no more than briefly mention a few other modes of fish capture. Thus, at the mouth of the Thames, thousands

of tons of sprats are caught every winter by means of the large bag net, known as the stow net. In shape it is

like an enormous funnel, 30 feet high, 20 feet wide, and nearly 180 feet in length. By means of this

contrivance the yield of sprats is so great that there is often some little difficulty in disposing of the catch.

The renowned whitebait, too, which are believed to be young herrings, are caught by means of a similar,

Besides these and various other forms of net fishing, there are the methods in which the long line is

employed. For the capture of the cod, both in Newfoundland and in the North Sea, what is called the bultow

is used. This is a long line many hundreds offeet in length, and at every twelfth foot shorter and smaller

cords called "snoods" are fastened. These "snoods" are about 6 feet long, and have the hooks attached to their

free ends. The bultow is "shot" across the tide to prevent entanglement of the hooks, and is laid in the

afternoon. At daybreak, when the lines are hauled in, as many as 400 of the large cod sometimes result from

the catch. There are various other appliances used for fish capture in different parts of the world, such as the

purseseine net, the trammel net, the ottertrawl net, and, as I have already pointed out, the most scathing

satire on our fisheries is to find all these necessary means for catching fish regarded as curiosities. When they

What would the proper development of our deepsea fisheries mean? In the first place, it would lead to a

more widely diffused use of fish as an article of diet, within the easy reach of all classes, being thus of

incalculable value from a health point of view. Next, it would ensure employment to many hundreds, and

eventually to many thousands, both directly and indirectly, and as a natural consequence this would bring

about the creation of a sturdy and desirable maritime element in our population. And lastly, it would yield a

At the present time only the veriest few of our metropolitan population are able to afford the luxury of fish,

and people in the country towns hardly see it at all. So, too, we are casting about for this plan and for that

plan to lessen a growing difficulty in the Australian metropolitan centres. There are village settlements

(which certainly deserve to be successful), and other proposals made to relieve a surplus population, but yet

no one has suggested the sea as a means of remedying this congestion. And not only would the fisheries

confer upon its followers a healthy calling, but they would raise a vigorous stock of which Australia might

well be proud. In addition to all this, a proper development of our deepsea fisheries would assuredly open

up a new avenue for investment. Is it not amazing that men will risk all they have in mines which are not

even real, and which exist, only on paper? And besides this, in the most genuine mine that was ever worked

there is at least a costly outlay for production, for crushing, or for smelting, before the metal sees the light of

day; but in the sea the catch is ready for the market, and only requires the bringing to land.

This matter, therefore, must be taken up earnestly, and there must be a determination to succeed. In the first

place, and before all else in the deepsea fisheries, I maintain that a proper and systematic search for trawling

grounds is absolutely essential. Till this is done he cannot for a moment pretend that we have endeavoured to

foster them in any way. All the elaboration of your proposed Fisheries Acts, and all the details connected

with the working of what may be called shore fishing, sink into nothingness when compared with the results

which would follow the working of our deepsea fisheries. I have already used the argument before, and do

so again, and it is this: that if you were to take away from the old country her deepsea fisheries, she would

Apparently it is imagined, too, that unless trawling grounds be discovered in the vicinity of Sydney or

Melbourne, all efforts will be useless. But it will only be necessary to refer to the deepsea fisheries

elsewhere to at once set this objection aside. Some of the great trawling grounds in the North Sea are at such

a distance from port that it would be quite impossible for any vessel to bring its own catch to market for

disposal, for the fish would be utterly spoiled before it could be done. But the larger trawling boats go on

cruises extending over weeks, and are constantly visited on the grounds by what are called "carriers," i.e.

steamers, who run their freights directly into market. The same thing is practised by the Dutch vessels, who

fish in the neighbourhood of the Shetland Islands for weeks together. In the same way carrier vessels attend

upon their fishing fleets, and carry off the take immediately to Holland. Being in possession of these facts,

therefore, we must not be induced to believe that deepsea fishing is not possible, simply because suitable

grounds for trawling, may not be actually within cooee of the Australian metropolitan centres.

There are one or two matters in connection with this subject which deserve having attention called to them. In

the first place the method adopted in our Woolloomooloo Fish Market of placing the fish in little heaps on the

floor itself, when put out for sale, is not satisfactory. In the Redfern Fish Market they are placed in small

divisions or receptacles each lot by itself and raised above the floor, where they are protected from

injury. In the new Melbourne Fish Markets, there are elevated platforms for the fish, and they are thus quite

above the cemented floor. Not only are they prevented from being damaged, but it seems to me that the

buyers have a better chance of seeing the fish when it is raised a little distance above their feet.

The size of the fish lots for sale in the Sydney and Melbourne Fish Markets varies, and this opens up a

somewhat debatable point. with us the lots are comparatively small, both at the Woolloomooloo and at the

Redfern Market; while at Melbourne, on the other hand, the lots are much larger. When the lots are small it

gives private buyers a chance of purchasing (but how many private buyers are there before breakfast?), and is

said in this way to raise the price for the dealers. But with the larger lots the latter are said to be able to buy to

more advantage, and thus supply the public with cheaper fish. To say which is the better of the two plans is

very much like being asked to solve the query in the story of "The Lady or the Tiger."

But before leaving this matter I should like to refer briefly to the new markets in Flinders Street, Melbourne.

They are called the City of Melbourne Meat, Fish, and Farm Produce Markets, and are most extensive in

area. The viaduct which connects the two railway systems of Victoria pierces the very centre of these new

markets. They are replete with every modern appliance for the storage and disposal of the food supply of a

large city. There are numerous chambers for the frozen meat, and by means of what is called a "lock," a

whole train can be received into a long covered gallery. The two gates are then closed at either end, and the

meat is thus received directly into the freezing chambers, without the slightest loss of any cold air. The fish

and game are treated exactly in the same way, except that the receiving and delivery "locks" are not quite so

large as in the former case. Still, there is just the same facility for their reception into the freezing chambers

set apart for the purpose. The whole arrangements of these new fish markets are very perfect, and leave

This is one of the topics which is continually cropping up in connection with the fishing industry in Australia.

It is noteworthy, too, that the middleman in some shape or form appears to be part of the system of fish

selling in every part of the world. At Billingsgate, where they are termed "bummarees," it is stated that they

fulfil a useful office in that they act as distributors to the small costermongers, who could hardly get along

without them. The "bummarees" watch the market and speculate accordingly, and it must be urged for them

that they run great risks from the unexpected arrival of a large amount of fish with a consequent glut in the

market. But the "bummarees" pure and simple are comparatively few. Their ranks, however, are swelled in

the following way: A salesman, having disposed of his own fish, will "bummaree" for the sake of the possible

profit, or a fishmonger, having purchased a double supply for a cheaper price, will "bummaree" half his

purchase. In France the procedure is different. First of all there is an agent termed an ecoreur, deputed by

various persons and armed with purchasing power, who is ready to buy the fisherman's catch at once. This

simplifies matters wonderfully for the fisherman, who gets ready money and has no further bother. Next,

from the ecoreur the fish is bought by the moreyeur, or trader, who despatches it to Paris and the other large

cities. Thus, so far, the fish, after leaving the fisherman, has passed through two hands, those of the ecoreur,

and those of the moreyeur. After this it has to face a most unjust tax the octroi by which all provisions

are specially taxed before entering the "barriers" of any French city or town. Hence the initiated, when

travelling in France, often reside on the outskirts of a town, just outside the barrier, where the cost of living is

reduced by onethird. On arriving at the markets the fish is publicly disposed of by the facteurs a la criee, or

auctioneers, who of course are paid for their trouble. Lastly, it is bought for sale to the public by the

poissarde, or fishwife. And thus we see from the time of leaving the water till finally it reaches the

unfortunate public the fish has passed through no less than six levies, that by the fisherman, the agent, the

trader, the octroi (i.e. the city toll or town due), the auctioneer, and, finally, that by the fishwife or

Having thus explained the system pursued in England and in France respectively, it will be interesting to refer

briefly to the different methods with regard to the disposal of fish practised in the Woolloomooloo, the

Redfern, and the Melbourne Fish Markets. At the former, the sales are conducted by Mr. Richard Seymour,

the inspector and auctioneer of the fish market with other auctioneers who act directly from the Sydney

Municipal Council; the Redfern markets are conducted by the Messrs. Hudson; while in Melbourne there are

But to return to our middleman, upon whom the whole controversy centres. Indeed, the discussion over him

in Melbourne, not so long ago, might be said to have reached to a whiteheat phase. But the. premises on

which the arguments were based were so hopelessly conflicting that it was impossible to logically settle the

point. It was claimed, on the one hand, that the price the fishermen received was cruelly small in comparison

with that which the public had to pay. On the other, the contention was that the price paid to the fishermen

was fairly satisfactory, and that the public obtained comparatively cheap fish. We have seen, however, what

takes place in other parts of the world, and, indeed, every one must admit that there is a remarkable difference

between the price which the fisherman gets and that which the public have to pay. Between these two

extremes there is an inordinate disparity, and the difficulty is to connect the two together to bring to light

the leakage and to find out who is living both on the fisherman and the public at one and the same time. On

this point a recent Fisheries Report of Victoria says: "The solution of the very important question of

providing a larger and cheaper fish supply for the masses rests mainly in the hands of the public. The present

high prices are maintained in virtue of a monopoly which can be only successfully combated by the initiation

of a healthy trade competition or a more open fish market. The fishermen, under existing auspices, reap but a

small share of the retail produce of their takings, such being further reduced by the high rates for transport

they are called upon to pay. In this lastnamed direction some relief might be afforded by the institution, if

necessary by Act of Parliament, of a uniform tariff for the carriage of fish by road and rail throughout the

This brings me to one of the most difficult matters that has to be dealt with in considering the fish supply of

any great city. For you may have the most extensive deepsea fisheries, you may have the most rapid transit

of the fish to town, and you may have the most commodious fish markets; but if you have no proper means of

distributing the fish to the public the whole scheme falls to the ground. At present the system both in Sydney

and in Melbourne is to have the one principal fish market (there are now two in Sydney, by the way), from

which all supplies for the public are derived. Of course it is perfectly competent for the latter to obtain their

purchases in the early morning at the time when the sales are conducted; but, on the other hand, the hour is

exceedingly inconvenient, and, as a general rule, the lots are too large for the private buyer. Hence the

distribution of fish depends almost wholly upon the costermonger or basketman, who takes his fish round to

the public. The basketman, or costermonger, or dealer call him what you will is an indispensable

personage, and what is more, he fills a most useful office. It is true that he is given to making strange

outcries, and that he is at times boisterous in speech. Yet, notwithstanding these things, he is a valuable

member of society, and personally I have a very great respect for him. Indeed, I am certain that he is the

foodbearer to many homes, and people would otherwise be put to very great straits in obtaining their

supplies. Our friend, however, has usually a long round to travel before he can make a good living, and

It is on account of these difficulties, therefore, that I recognise the value of the French method of distribution,

for besides the Halles Centrales, or principal markets, in Paris, there are in all nearly sixty local provision

markets where it is possible to obtain, under cover in all weathers and at any time whatever is required. It

is most desirable that something of this kind should be adopted in Australia. At least it is quite certain that

every suburb should possess its own local market. This need not attempt to rival the central depot, but take

This is naturally in intimate connection with the preceding, and it is very advisable to refer to it in order to

direct attention to one or two matters. In the first place, I shall commence by saying that both Sydney and

Melbourne are lamentably deficient in fishmongers' shops similar to those which are so common in London.

As a matter of fact, the show of fish exposed for sale is in striking contrast to that of meat. For in Sydney and

suburbs alone the butchers' establishments run to the number of nearly 600, while in the Melbourne

metropolis they even exceed this. One has only to look through the directories of either Sydney or

Melbourne, under the heading of "Fishmongers," to see how few their numbers are. In our own city,

Chinnery, of Hunter Street, and Matterson, of Pitt Street, make a highly creditable show, and in the southern

capital, Jenkins, of Swanston Street, is well known for his excellent display. Otherwise the exhibition of fish

for sale in either city is disappointing in the extreme, and is nothing less than an abject confession of our

There was formerly in Melbourne, however, a most admirable firm known as the Mutual Provedoring

Company, whose premises were centrally situated near the main suburban railway station. Their show of fish

was something to behold, and I do not remember to have seen it surpassed, even in the old country; and, in

addition, they hit upon a very excellent device one so good, in fact, that it is well worthy of imitation. That

is to say they gave to every customer a capital fish cookery book, written, indeed, by our own Mrs. H.

Wicken. It was a wellcompiled production, and contained a goodly number of practical and economical

recipes, having special regard to our Australian fish. In this way they did splendid work, as by means of the

Fish Dainties (the title of the book) they popularised the use of fish. Now, it is greatly to be regretted that this

firm no longer exists, because if ever there was a venture which deserved support, it was surely this. But I am

no pessimist in these matters, and verily believe that before long this company, or one similar, will be in full

swing again, and that the public will thereby benefit in every conceivable way. As far as Sydney is concerned

there is a different state of affairs, and it is with genuine pleasure that I refer to the New South Wales Fresh

Food and Ice Company, of whose enterprise and praiseworthy efforts I must express my sincere approbation.

It is a good thing for the whole community that their endeavours have been crowned with such marked

success; and I am very certain that, without any exaggeration whatever, one is justified in saying that this

company have been of unmistakable service to their numerous customers, and that by their distribution of fish

throughout New South Wales, quite a number of invalids, as well as of healthy people, have every reason to

be grateful. Their exhibition of fish in King Street is at all times most satisfactory. Moreover, schnapper and

other prime fish are often sold there as low as 4d. per lb., a price at which no one can complain.

Attention has been thus far entirely directed to the topic of fish, so that it now becomes necessary to turn to

that of oysters. It will be found, however, that the actual state of affairs in connection with our oyster fisheries

is not at all inspiriting. But before entering upon this matter it will perhaps lead to a better understanding of

the whole question if some preliminary remarks are made upon the subjectheading. In doing so it will be

most desirable to have recourse to an account given, not so long ago, by Professor Huxley at that time

Inspector of Fisheries since he speaks with the weight of authority. Referring to the oysters in the old

country, he says that during the summer and autumn months, from about May to September, according to

varying circumstances, the oysters pass into a peculiar condition known to the fishermen under the name of

"sick." In this state the greater number contain a whitish substance, consisting of numberless granules held

together by a sort of slime. The whole is known as "white spat," and the numberless granules are really the

oyster eggs. Slowly and slowly the interior of the eggs assumes a darkish hue, tinging the whole mass so

much that it is then termed "black spat." Within the space of a fortnight the mass of "black spat" breaks up,

Mr. Frank Buckland has been fortunate enough to actually see this taking place. The oyster appears to await

its opportunity, it stealthily opens its shell, and a lot of spat looking like a dense cloud is ejected. After a

minute or two another cloud appears, and this is continually repeated till the performance is concluded.

Myriads of young oysters thus liberated from parental control now enter upon the free swimming or

locomotive stage of their existence. That is to say they remain near the surface of the sea, although

After a variable time, however, they suddenly descend and attach themselves to any suitable substance, on

which they at once become distinctly visible in the form of white dots. In their restless stage they are scarcely

discernible by the naked eye, but they settle down so rapidly and in such numbers that they appear to fall

down through the water. This is known to oyster fishermen as a " fall of spat," and we shall see that this fall

of spat is an important occurrence, but that it varies greatly in different seasons.

In both New South Wales and Victoria the condition of affairs in connection with the oyster fisheries and the

oyster yield is extremely discouraging. So much so, that unless something is done and done quickly

we may have to rely mainly on outside resources for our supply. Even at the present time this is the case to a

greater extent than most people have any idea of. In support of this statement, as far as New South Wales is

concerned, it is only necessary to turn to the last Fisheries Report for the year ending 1890. There it is pointed

out that in that year, notwithstanding the enormous length of our oysterbearing foreshores, we are brought

face to face with the fact that we are indebted to other colonies New Zealand and Queensland for

twothirds of our supply. Again, Mr. Lindsay Thompson, the chief inspector of New South Wales fisheries,

in his recent official work, The Fisheries of New South Wales, makes the following statements: In the

year 1871 no less than 93,000 bushels of oysters were obtained from the New South Wales beds, which,

indeed, helped to supply the Victorian as well as our own needs; in the year 1883 there was a fall to 46,377

bushels; while in 1891 our fisheries yielded only 14,181 bushels. This is a very significant shrinkage, and

shows a remarkable falling off in the winnings. It is still maintained by some, however, that there has been a

succession of bad spatting years, and that the supply may yet reach to something of its old proportions.

It will be instructive, then, in this connection to refer briefly to the efforts which legislation has made to

remedy matters in New South Wales. Under the old Oyster Beds Act of 1868 the areas given to lessees were

somewhat large, and consequently what with the prolific natural supply, and a relatively small population,

they appeared to be doing too well. It was urged, therefore, that the holdings should be more restricted in size,

and that in this way a large number of small occupiers would be afforded a means of living, while at the same

time these smaller areas would receive more attention. By the Fisheries Act of 1881 a new era dawned upon

the oyster fisheries of this colony, and a system of licensing small holdings was initiated. Under this Act

licensed dredging was permitted, but with such disastrous results that within two years a Fisheries Act

Amendment Act had to be passed. What happened, in short, was that the beds were actually skinned, so that

the total disappearance of the oyster was looming in the distance. But even the passing of this latter Act was

powerless to check the evil, and by the Oyster Fisheries Act of 1884 (the present Act) there was a reversal to

the old system of long leases and larger holdings. Even at the present time matters are far from perfect, and in

the opinion of the Commissioners of Fisheries some radical change is necessary if oyster production is to

have a place at all. Now, it is true that the present Act has checked the wholesale extermination of oysters on

the part of licensed dredgers. But, unfortunately, in its passage through Parliament, some unhappy

amendments totally altered the intention of the Bill. For instance, one clause makes it penal to remove oysters

from a reserve or leased area without authority; but omits the protection of oysters on adjoining foreshores

which may not be under lease at all; and it has accordingly happened that unprincipled persons have

proceeded to rob the adjacent unleased beds of every single oyster they contained.

But while faulty and inoperative legislation may be responsible in part for the failure in our oysteries, it is

certain that other causes must be at work to bring about such a disastrous result. And in the different annual

reports on the fisheries of the colony this is attributed to various reasons. Thus at some places, between the

Richmond and Port Macquarie, it has been set down to the presence of quantities of decomposing seaweed

on the oyster beds; in the Manning to deposits of mud and sand; and elsewhere again to the ravages of a small

worm. Besides these causes, too, it has been ascribed to the long continued absence of floods, with a

consequent increased salinity of the water the latter being considered inimical to oyster life. In the opinion

of scientific writers, water containing 3 per cent. of salt is most suitable for oyster development, water above

that salinity being too strong, and that below it too weak. It has also been well pointed out by Mr. henry

Woodward, in his admirable pamphlet on Oyster Culture in New South Wales, that most of our deep water

beds are situated in the rivers, a little way from the sea. Under favourable circumstances there is just that

commingling of the fresh water from the river and the salt water from the sea which produces the oyster to

perfection. In times of drought, however, the salt water drives out the oysters from the deeper beds by reason

of its greater density. On the other hand, the fresh water, being the lighter, floats at the top and enables the

oysters to live in the shallower parts, by maintaining the required 3 per cent. of salinity. It is evident from

this, that the lessees have acted in direct opposition to this natural law, for they have stripped the oysters from

the shallow water, where they would have done well, and laid them down on the deep beds, where the

Dr. James C. Cox, of Sydney, the President of the Fisheries Commission, and our best known authority on

conchology, has contributed a very valuable paper upon "The Australian Oyster, its Cultivation and

Destruction," to the recent official work, The Fisheries of New South Wales, already referred to. A brief

summary of his views will, therefore, be full of interest. First of all, then, he separates oysters into three

classes, namely, drift oysters, mud oysters, and rock oysters. Now, this classification must be clearly borne in

mind, as it will the better enable the reader to understand what follows. He attributes the want of success in

our oysteries to several causes, which have not been sufficiently heeded. One of these is that the oyster

culturists have expected that the seed oysters which they obtained from between high and low water mark

(rock oysters) would produce drift oysters if placed on beds on which drift oysters once throve in abundance.

Dr. Cox maintains, however, that these two kinds of oysters, the rock oysters and the drift oysters, are quite

different, and, as it will be seen, believes that they require different food. It can be well understood from this,

As to the mud oyster, he thinks very highly of it, and regrets that it has been so ignored by our oyster

culturists. He is quite sure that if our mud oyster were cultivated and educated as it is now in Europe, it would

be brought to the same perfection as the European and American oyster. It has been said of our mud oyster

that it will not keep, and will not carry; but the same was said of its European representative until its

cultivators came to discover that by a gradual process of raising it could be educated to keep quite long

To come to the real point on which Dr. Cox considers that all oyster culture has failed in Australian waters. It

is an established fact that the drift oyster and also the mud oyster require a diatomatic food for their existence.

These two varieties of oysters no doubt consume other forms of food, but living diatoms constitute by far the

greatest part. On the contrary, the rock oyster does not appear to need the diatomatic nutriment to sny extent,

and is fed chiefly by larval forms of marine life. Thus, knowing that the drift and mud oysters require

different food from the rock oyster, it is easy to see why our oyster culturists have failed in establishing new

beds of oysters in various places. For the whole purport of Dr. Cox's paper may be summarised into

expressing his belief that sufficient attention has not been devoted to the replenishment of our natural beds,

In former days, when our drift and mud oysters were in their prime, there were many pools of naturally

preserved fresh water in fact, often very extensive lakes on the banks of many of the estuaries and

inlets running up into our rivers and creeks. Now, these reservoirs appear to have been constantly supplied by

subaqueous springs of fresh water, and in consequence the supply of diatomatic food was abundant. It was

abundant, because, as it is well known, diatomatic life depends for its existence, to a great extent, on the

presence of fresh water. These collections of fresh water no longer exist, so that the diatomatic food supply is

not forthcoming to maintain the drift and the mud oyster. But there are other additional causes for the

disappearance of these latter. The surrounding ground has been cleared for agricultural purposes, and the

earth, broken up by ploughing, has been washed into these estuaries, and has suffocated, as it were, the

oysters in their natural position. Again, the water which flows over the oysters is continually being disturbed

by the different steamers passing up and down. The stirredup mud they create gets into the gills, and

From the preceding it will be seen that Mr. Cox is of opinion that the loss of diatomatic food is one of the

principal causes in diminishing the supply of drift and mud oysters, and in addition he believes that this

decrease has been also brought about by muddy water. Indeed, fairly clear water is absolutely necessary for

their existence. On the contrary, water loaded with any sediment interferes with the functions of the oyster so

much as to destroy it. In this way floods are considered to be beneficial, and even almost necessary, to proper

oyster development; for they clear out the accumulations of mud, silt, and marine vegetable growth, thus

giving the beds every chance. And further, Mr. Thomas Whitelegge, of the Australian Museum, has made

some investigations into what is known as the "worm disease," due to the polydora ciliata. It was commonly

suppose that it was not the worm itself which was fatal, but that by boring through the shell it afforded

entrance for the fine mud, which quickly destroyed the oyster. From the result of his researches, however,

Mr. Whitelegge believes that the young worm simply swims into the open oyster, and that it immediately

begins to construct a tube and collect a large quantity of mud. The worms appear to have the power of

collecting a large quantity of mud in a very short time. The mud is covered over at once by the oyster with a

thin layer of shelly matter, thus enveloping the worm, together with its mud. After this, one of two things

happens: if the oyster be healthy, it envelops the worm and mud so quickly as to dispose of the intruder for

good; but, on the other hand, if the oyster be unhealthy, or already infested, the shelly deposition is far

slower, as a consequence of which the worm gains the ascendency, and the oyster succumbs.

In Victoria, too, the oyster fisheries are in a most unsatisfactory condition. According to Mr. Saville Kent, the

author of The Great Barrier Reef of Australia and formerly Commissioner of Fisheries in several of the

Australian colonies, and who is qualified to speak on these matters, the destruction of the oyster there has

been brought about by sedimentary deposits, by parasitic growths, such as sponges, mussels, ascidians, and

seaweed; by the attacks of the dogwhelk and other natural enemies; and by their continual removal by

human agency. He points out that there are the remains of magnificent natural beds in different parts, but that

they are on the verge of ruin through neglect on the one hand and the invasion of poachers on the other. In

short, he very plainly shows that unless active measures be taken for their general resuscitation and

If one only looks to the conduct of some of those who have been engaged in our oyster fisheries, the reason

for their present defective state will be readily apparent. The Fisheries Commissioners well express it when

they state that "If a person takes up ground only for the purpose of collecting and selling whatever oysters he

finds upon it, and bestows no care in providing for the continuity of the supply, that ground must cease to be

productive." And apart from this it will be found that even when every effort has been made to provide for

The truth is the oyster fisheries have been managed in a happygolucky way. There has been but little care

taken in their conservation, and the inevitable result is that the winnings, as the official figures show, are

rapidly failing. The same thing is not peculiar to Australia, however, and has happened everywhere else

where the same careless policy has been pursued. We have, then, a grain of comfort from the fact that it is not

confined to us. In our own case the Fisheries Commissioners have repeatedly called attention to the need for

certain legislative reform in connection with our oysteries. They assert, in fact, that "it is absolutely

imperative that our oyster beds and deposits must be regulated on quite a different system to that which

Mr. Saville Kent, who has been investigating the cause of failure in connection with the oyster fisheries of

Victoria, not so long ago, has made some interesting recommendations. The principle of his system is to

establish on selected spots, in the neighbourhood of the formerly most productive natural oyster grounds,

small Government reserves, whereon stocks of oysters shall be laid down and carefully cultivated for

breeding purposes. He points out that the capacity of oysters for breeding is greatly augmented when they are

collected together in a small space, in comparison with that of equal numbers thinly scattered over my

extensive area. Each reserve in this way constitutes a prolific breeding centre for stocking the surrounding

waters, and by this means alone the process of restoring the natural beds is quickly accelerated.

Indeed, he is particularly careful to draw attention to the fact that in the previously attempted establishment of

artificial oyster fisheries a prominent error was in working too large areas. One or two acres intelligently

cultivated can be made to produce far more substantial results than a very large area under inefficient

management, and at much less expenditure of time and money. A vast amount of money has been expended

in different localities on the Victorian coast for the purpose of developing the oyster fisheries. In the great

majority of cases, however, the site selected was unsuitable for such a purpose, and the mode of culture

adopted impracticable and inefficient. For instance, one place was the recipient of a vast amount of

sedimentary deposits. Here he found that they had surrounded the chosen areas with fences of great height

and strength, and closely wattled, for the purpose of catching and retaining the young oyster brood. Instead of

this, however, they had simply acted as "catchpits," which had accumulated soft oozy mud to the depth of

Instead of such an evident failure as this, he recommends oysterspat collectors of two kinds, one consisting

of extra thick split palings 4 ft. long by 8 in. wide, with a brick attached to each end to weigh them down, and

at the same time to raise them off the ground. Several of them on being raised for inspection, after three

months, were found to have over 1,000 embryo oysters adhering to them. The other form of spat collector he

employs consists of cemented slates, arranged ridgewise on light titree frames, and in some localities these

In the old country the same necessity for oyster culture is well recognised. In an interesting address given not

so long ago, Professor Huxley, after referring to the growing scarcity of the bivalve, expressed his belief that

the only hope for the oyster consumer was first in oyster culture, and secondly in discovering a means of

breeding oysters under such conditions that all the spat was safely deposited. France has done more than any

other country in the world in the artificial culture of the oyster. Not many years ago the oyster fisheries there

were in danger of absolute extinction a state of affairs brought about by reckless and unrestricted fishing,

without any effort to provide for a resupply. Mainly through the efforts of M. Coste, the propagation of

oysters was scientifically carried out, with a result that has even exceeded the marvellous. According to a

recent French official report, the Bay of Arcachon contained in the year 1807, 20 private parcs, or district

oyster beds. In the year 1865 these had increased to the number of 297, with an output of 10,000,000 oysters.

In the year 1887, the area under cultivation in the same bay amounted to 15,000 acres, and produced

300,000,000 oysters. In addition to this, a still later report attributes the present flourishing condition of this

industry "to the steps primarily initiated by the Government, and to the necessity of upholding this success by

continuing the same system of administrative supervision, together with the practical illustration in the

Government model parcs of the most perfected methods of oyster culture, for the benefit of private

And lastly, if we require further evidence in support of the necessity for ostreiculture, we have only to turn to

America. A falling off in the supply led to an inquiry into the cause by the United States Fish Commission.

Professor Goode, in his review of the work accomplished by this body, writes, inter alia: "The important

distinction between the extermination of a species and the destruction of a fishery should be noted. In the case

of fixed animals like the sponge, the mussel, and the oyster, the colonies or beds may be practically

exterminated, exactly as a forest may be cut down. The preservation of the oyster beds is a matter of vital

importance to the United States, for oyster fishing unsupported by oyster culture will, within a short period,

destroy the employment of tens of thousands, and the cheap and favourite food of tens of millions."

"Something," the professor proceeds to say, "may be effected by laws which allow each oyster bed to rest for

a period of years after each season of fishing upon it. It is the general belief, however, that shellfish beds

must be cultivated as carefully as garden beds, and that this can only be done by leasing them to individuals.

It is probable that the present unregulated methods will prevail until the dredging of the natural beds ceases to

be remunerative, and that the oyster industry will then be transferred from the improvident fisherman to the

caretaking oysterculturists." We are thus led to the inevitable conclusion that if our Australian oyster

fisheries are to be recreated, it will be necessary to follow in the same lines. With that object in view,

therefore, it will be needful to devise suitable legislative enactments to protect our oyster fisheries and to

foster ostreiculture at the same time. We must benefit, in short, by the experience derived from other parts of

the world where ostreiculture has been carried to a state of absolute perfection.

In the first place I shall begin by affirming that it would be a difficult matter indeed to say too much in favour

of the oyster. It is as highly appreciated at the present day as it was by the Romans hundreds of years ago, and

it is certain that in centuries to come it will be found occupying a similar unrivalled position. At the same

time, it must not be forgotten that it is not every person who cares for the oyster, showing that there are

various forms of affliction; and we find, accordingly, that there is no halfheartedness about the like or

dislike for the oyster it is either held in the loftiest admiration, or looked upon almost with repugnance. It is

both food for the sickroom and food for the strong man. It is one of the most valuable forms of nourishment

for the growing child, and it gives strength to those of declining years. It is specially appropriate for the brain

worker, and yet it is deservedly in great repute with the muscle user whether athlete or artisan. It is the

opening ceremony at our feasts, while it reigns supreme at supper. In short, there is everything to be said for

But if it is thus so highly appreciated in health, it is in disease that it is at its best; for here it occupies a place

which nothing else can fill. Indeed, after many cases of acute or serious illness, the oyster is one of the first

things which the patient looks for. In many chronic disorders, too, it is absolutely without a rival. Thus, in

anaemia, where the blood is so poor, it restores the strength; in bronchitis and other chest diseases it helps to

relieve the loaded tubes of phlegm; in consumption and similar wasting maladies it conserves the vital

powers; in debility it creates new force; in indigestion it is often digestible when all else is indigestible; in

nervous disease it renews the nervous energy. The list, in fact, might be multiplied indefinitely, but enough

has been instanced to prove the value of the oyster. It should be added, in conclusion, that it is best eaten raw,

with its juice, which is its blood mixed with seawater. A squeeze of lemon is generally employed to bring

out its flavour, and, for those who are not invalids, a sensation of cayenne pepper is distinctly an

Along with its great ally, the oyster, fish undoubtedly occupies one of the highest places on the food list.

Unfortunately, it is not met with in every home as it should be, its high price and scarcity combining to make

it conspicuous by its absence. That such a state of things is actually the case in Australia can only be deeply

deplored. Let us suppose, for instance, that we were as well supplied with fish as we are entitled to be,

considering that we are of a maritime race and that we live near the sea. If such were the case and I would

it were so how would a sudden reversal to the present state of our fish supply be received? Would it not

give rise to protestations, to indignation meetings, to questionings in the House, and to the papers being filled

with complaints, till matters were put right again? Yes, indeed, all these things would happen! meanwhile,

however, we continue placidly in our fishless state of existence, and the finny tribe, outside in the deep sea,

It may seem of little use, therefore, to call attention to the value of fish when we are practically bereft of it.

But as some improvement may come about in course of time, the attempt will not be altogether thrown away.

First of all, then, it is worthy of note that in the old country that advocate for rational feeding, Sir Henry

Thompson, has recently expressed his opinion that a large proportion of the town population would profit by

exchanging some of their meat, as an article of daily diet, for fish. He further adds that the digestive system is

apt to become overloaded and oppressed by meals consisting chiefly of meat, and that many a constitution

suffers from an oversupply in this way, which cannot be remedied without a considerable amount of

exercise. That being the case in the old country, with its cold, damp climate, these facts are intensified a

thousandfold when they are applied to our semitropical existence. Dr. T. K. Chambers, also, another

authority on all that pertains to diet, is an advocate for a more general use of fish in our daily life; and, as he

sagely observes, every sort is best when it is cheapest, for it is then most plentiful and in fullest season. Then,

again, we have Dr. F.W. Pavy, who is well qualified to speak on these matters, observing that fish is an

important article of food. For, as he proceeds to point out, the health and vigour of the inhabitants of the

fishing towns, where fish may form the only kind of animal food consumed, show that it is capable of

contributing, in an effective manner, to the maintenance of the body under active conditions of life. Dr.

Horace Dobell, too, tells us how nearly fish represents in food value as equal weight of meat, and how

important it is to other forms of animal food as a mixed diet. Indeed, it would be possible to adduce similar

statements to an indefinite extent, but my main object in making these references is to call attention to the

value of fish as ordinary diet. And although it hae an everyday value of this kind, there are in addition

certain qualities ascribed to fish which render it particularly appropriate for a large and important section of

I refer to the brain workers. I say large and important, because in their ranks are to be found literary men and

journalists, members of the professions, activeminded, busy men of the commercial world, and the vast

array of those having mental work and clerical occupations. In one of the latest books on the subject of food

and diet by Dr. Burney Yeo, he remarks that it is the custom to speak of fish as an "intellectual" or "brain"

food, on account of the phosphorus contained in it. But he adds that much of its reputation in this respect may

be due to its being readily digested by persons of sedentary and studious habits. He proceeds to quote Louis

Agassiz, the famous naturalist, who bestows upon fish the following: "Refreshing to the organism,

especially for intellectual labour; not that its use can turn an idiot into a wise or witty man, but a fish diet

But if fish is thus a necessary and desirable element in the dietary of our active daily life, it is not to be

forgotten that it is at least equally valuable for the invalid. It is often tolerated by the stomach when the

digestive powers are weakened from any cause. When the system is recruiting after any exhausting illness, it

is usually amongst the earliest forms of nourishment allowed. In many chronic disorders, likewise, it is just

one of those things whose place it would be impossible to fill. And, lastly, it should be ever remembered that

many men whose lives are passed in a state of perfect thraldom by reason of their extravagant use of butcher's

meat would find themselves better in health, better in spirits, and better in temper, were they to curtail their

ALTHOUGH for some years past any information pertaining to salads and saladmaking has been eagerly

welcomed by the writer, yet it must be admitted that great difficulties in obtaining such knowledge in

Australia do exist, because the use and value of salads are not widespread and understood, and thus it is that

their healthconferring properties are passed by seemingly without regret. And if the topic, therefore, is one

possessing an attractive personal interest, for that very reason it is felt that the present chapter falls far short

of what might be achieved; yet it may be permissible to plead in extenuation thereof that its composition has

not proved the easiest of tasks, and its shortcomings must consequently be condoned by an indulgent public. I

shall begin, then, by saying that if ever there was a form of food which was intended for our semitropical

climate it is undoubtedly the salad, and as thus constituting an article of diet so well adapted for Australia it

should certainly be seen daily in every household. It is so appropriately suitable for use amongst us that it

deserves to be intituled "the seabreeze of the table," for in addition to its invigorating qualities, it cleanses,

while at the same time it enriches, the blood. The late gifted George Dallas did not go too far when he

asserted that a salad was not merely food, but that it had also an exhilarating effect and a distinct action upon

It seems more suitable, however, instead of abruptly plunging into the matter of salad concoction, to say a

few words from a culinary point of view on the art of making life enjoyable, and thus to draw attention to the

curious neglect which is shown to a form of food within the reach of all classes, and whose use would be of

the greatest advantage to the health and pleasing to the palate. At the same time, although an ardent believer

in the distinct benefit which would be derived by the entire community from the adoption of a mode of living

more in harmony with their climatic surroundings, yet I must disclaim any desire to pose as a "faddist." In

truth, there are too many worthy people who would submit all the world to their theories in a Procrustean

fashion, and who see in their particular hobby a panacea for the whole of human frailties and human

sufferings. Instead, therefore, of dilating on the undeniable consequences attached to the reasonless use of

animal food at present followed throughout Australia, I shall content myself with a few remarks on the art of

living. By far the greater number of people pay too little attention to the present, and imperil their happiness

with the hope that at some future period, when they will have put a little together, they will be enabled to

thoroughly lay themselves out for enjoyment. But in the vast majority of cases these halcyon days never

arrive, or, if they do, it is more than probable the health is undermined by the neglect of those very matters

which should form part and parcel of one's daily existence. It is the exact parallel to a man hurrying through

many fields and parks and gardens for the purpose of enjoying, from some high eminence, the scene through

which he has passed. In his desperate haste to attain his object he disregards all that is beautiful and

interesting, only to find that his travelling is nearly over, and that his steps cannot be retraced. On the other

hand, a far more philosophic frame of mind belongs to him who, as he proceeds onwards through life's

journey, gets a rational enjoyment out of his existence, so that his days pass pleasantly and his health receives

the consideration it deserves. It will appear somewhat mundane in this connection to assert that the latter and,

therefore, happiness are to a great extent dependent upon the mode of living, but nevertheless it is absolutely

true, and thus it is that I come back to the quotation at the beginning of this chapter "A salad is a delicacy

You will remember that the Duc de la Rochefoucauld, in those marvellous essays and maxims of his, says

that notwithstanding the disparity of men's fortunes happiness is equally distributed. He was doubtless right,

more especially as he looked at the matter from a Frenchman's point of view, for it must be remembered that

to the great body of people in that country life is more pleasant than to the rest of humanity. Indeed, on this

point Mr. Sept. Berdmore declares that in France dishes are cooked by the humblest which would be

appreciated if they appeared on the menu of the best club in London, and he avows, moreover, it possesses

the greatest national school of cookery that has ever existed. But, on the contrary, as far as Australia is

concerned, the state of affairs in the culinary art with the bulk of the people is simply deplorable, and it

seems. well nigh hopeless for any improvement to be brought about. There is, however, one little ray of light

at the end of this dark tunnel we are in, and it is the knowledge that the cookery classes in the public schools

will byandby bring about important changes, resulting in the amelioration of the whole of the culinary

habits at present, curiously, supposed to exist. And it is gratifying to know that the admirable cookery classes

at the Technical College, under the able guidance of Mrs. Wicken, are making the most excellent progress

These altruistic reflections, however, have somewhat drifted us away from the matter under consideration, so

that it becomes necessary to revert again to the main subject. Now, even at the risk of being regarded as

wearisome, I propose to consider somewhat fully the different steps to be followed in the preparation of a

simple salad, for it will be noticed that in all the cookery books the directions given for the concoction of a

salad are most meagre and wanting in detail. In addition to this want of information, too, it is quite evident

that the instructions have never been actually followed by the compilers of these works themselves, or they

would signally fail if they attempted to follow their own advice. Furthermore, even those who pride

themselves on the knowledge of the preparation of food for the table are often surprisingly misinformed on

the subject of saladmaking. It will be as well at this stage, consequently, to refer to the plan usually followed

by English people, so as the better to contrast the two methods the faulty or English with the correct or

French. Well then, English people almost invariably cut their lettuce first into halves, and next into quarters.

These latter are then placed in water to soak for some time, and are afterwards laid on a plate to drain. In this

way the leaves are supposed to be thoroughly cleansed, but as a matter of fact deep down between the leaves

are the minute insects, which are left undisturbed. The next proceeding is to cut the leaves into very fine

shreds, to add a few slices of hardboiled egg, and finally to pour over the whole a mysterious mixture

known as saladdressing. Thus is produced the orthodox English salad, which everyone, probably from

patriotic motives, pronounces to be extremely nice. In the French preparation of a salad, however, each single

leaf is detached and carefully cleansed, some needing simply wiping, while others require absolute washing.

Every leaf, be it borne in mind, before going into the salad bowl must be perfectly dry, or else the first great

principle of salad making will be infringed, for oil and water refuse to mingle. In preparing a French salad,

too, the stalks or coarse ribs are removed from the middle part of each leaf, and the larger leaves also are

carefully divided into halves. The whole leaf is not chopped up into shreds, as in the English salad. After this

the drying of the leaves is best accomplished by placing them within a clean towel. Instead of the towel a

wire basket, panier a' salade, is more convenient and is generally used in France; it should be easily

obtainable for a shilling or two. In using the towel the four corners are held together in the right hand, and the

whole is repeatedly brought sharply round with a swing of the arm, stopping with a sudden jerk, till all the

water is driven off 011 the floor. Herein consists the excellence of the French method, for the leaves are

thoroughly cleansed, the acrid parts are removed, and the leaves are perfectly dry. On a small plate, near by,

are usually three or four heaps of finelychopped herbs (fines herbes), namely, burnet, chervil, chives,

tarragon, mustard and cress, or even parsley; these constitute what is known as "the fourniture" of the salad.

The lettuce leaves, on being taken out of the towel, are then placed within the bowl, and over them is daintily

spread whatever is required from each of the little heaps of herbs already referred to. A little salt is next to be

quietly tapped over the salad, and the spoon saladserver is then filled once or twice with the best saladoil,

and this is now sprinkled on the salad, carefully turning the leaves over the while so as to obtain the thinnest

possible film of oil equally distributed over the whole surface of each leaf. The salad spoon is next halffilled

with the best vinegar, and the latter liquid is now most carefully added, only a drop or so at a time, so as to

diffuse it uniformly throughout the whole. The thorough incorporation of the oil, but more particularly of the

vinegar, with the salad requires to be done with a light hand to avoid bruising the leaves, and consists in

This comparison, however, between the methods of preparing salads according to the English and the French

fashion is not quite complete, and consequently it will be advisable to refer to one or two other matters, of

which it is necessary to be apprised in order to produce a perfect salad. In the first place, the form of the salad

bowl itself is very important, for it will readily be apparent that it must be of such a shape as to facilitate the

complete blending of the oil and vinegar with the materials used. That which is nearest to half a perfect

sphere is by far the best; and another essential is that it should be of sufficient size to afford room for free

manipulation. On looking in the windows orle is fairly astonished at the diversity of shapes that are exposed

for sale. In most of them the floor of the bowl is flat, with a sort of recess all round its margin. This, of

course, is most illadapted for the purpose for which it is intended. Nearly all of them, again, are by far too

small; it is impossible to mix a salad properly in a vessel very little larger than a soup plate. So that in the

selection of a salad bowl see that it is the nearest approach to half a perfect sphere in shape, and take care that

it is roomy enough for freely working the salad. Lastly, do not waste money on the meretricious ornamental

world which besets so many of the bowls exposed for sale. A very good substitute can be made in the

ordinary large earthenware basin used in the kitchen, the deeper the better, which will be found to answer

every purpose, and its cost brings it within the reach of every purse. Next, with regard to the servers, these are

usually supplied with the bowl, but wooden servers are considered by many to be the best, and price is

certainly no drawback. The oil, too, must be the purest you can buy, and Crosse and Blackwell's is as good as

any; at least, I do not know of a better oil at present, as it is sweet and without the slightest suspicion of

rankness. So, too, with regard to vinegar: pay a little more for a good article, and you will have no cause to

regret it. The best French, or Crosse and Blackwell's white wine vinegar, is good enough for anybody. You

will find that the oil and the vinegar will last a long time, and that the cost of making a salad is actually the

veriest trifle. In making a plain lettuce salad such as has been described, you will, of course, have to do

without the chopped herbs, because, unfortunately, we in Australia have not risen to the necessity for their

cultivation, but you can make shift with small pieces of celery, which taste admirably in the salad, or little

bits of radish, or thin slices of cucumber whatever, in fact, happens to be in season.

There is a remarkable condition of affairs obtaining in Sydney, and the same applies to the other metropolitan

centres of Australia. On turning up our directory for the current year it will be found on reference that the

number of butchers for the city and suburbs is nearly 600. On the other hand, the number of those whose

calling is given as that of greengrocer does not reach 300. Now, it is not to be denied that a goodly proportion

of vegetables are sold by dealers whose address is not to be found under the latter heading. Nevertheless, it is

still a significant fact that while many of the butchers' establishments possess quite an attractive and inviting

appearance, on the contrary those devoted to the sale of greengrocery are represented by dingylooking

places, and by a collection of faded vegetables which seem always to be apologising for being on view at all.

The show of meat which is to be found in our Australian capitals is certainly worthy city in the world, and if

the display of vegetables were only equal to it, as it assuredly should be, there would be at least something on

Another fact which is equally to he deplored with this small display of vegetables seen throughout the city is

the few varieties which are cultivated. In a former chapter attention was drawn to the nutritious properties and

exquisite flavour of many vegetables which are easily grown, but which are most unaccountably passed over,

and it will be remembered that the tomato was instanced in particular as having a desperate struggle for

existence, and that it was years and years before it was finally received into favour. Similarly in the case of

salad plants there is the same matter for complaint, and beyond the ordinary cabbage lettuce, celery,

cucumbers, and radishes, there is nothing grown. And yet there ought to be inducement enough for many of

our young men to devote themselves to such a healthy occupation as market gardening, with profit to

themselves and with benefit to the community. The market gardens around Paris, although small, are

cultivated to perfection. The French market gardeners, moreover, are, as a rule, a very prosperous class; they

keep to themselves, and marry among themselves. On making inquiries from the leading seedsmen

throughout Australia, and asking what varieties of salad plants are mostly in vogue, you find that the cabbage

lettuce is almost the sole representative. And thus it is that in the very climate where the system calls for

salads, so to speak, there is absolutely no attempt made to supply a crying want. A brief reference to a few of

these salad plants will better illustrate the importance of their culture. Here, as with the different vegetables, I

applied to headquarters for information, namely, to Mr. F. Turnen, of the Department of Agriculture, Sydney,

who once more came to my assistance and courteously indicated the localities in which they are likely to do

well. And it only seems fitting and appropriate here to remark that Australia's road to prosperity lies through

her agriculture; the hydrocephalic growth visible in every colony is unnatural and needs rectification.

Lettuce. Of this there are two varieties, the ordinary cabbage lettuce and the cos, so named from the

Island of Cos in the Aegean Sea, which is also known as the upright, or smoothleaved lettuce. Although this

latter is to be obtained, yet in nine cases out of ten only the cabbage lettuce is procurable. But, as a matter of

fact, the upright or smoothleaved cos lettuce is of a more delicate flavour, and when grown properly by

having the leaves loosely tied together at the top about ten days before cutting, it is more crisp and juicy, and

better adapted for saladings. In the old country, too, the cos variety, with its long leaves, is common enough,

and is there preferred to the cabbage lettuce. It is to be regretted, therefore, that we see so little of it.

Endive. Now, here is a noble salad plant of which even the very name is hardly known by the greater

number of our people. There are practically two classes of endive, the broadleaved or Batavian variety, and

the curlyleaved endive. Both sorts, however, must be well blanched if perfection is required. It is true that

the curlyleaved endive is at times to be obtained here, but it is extensively cultivated in England, as it is very

crisp and tender, while it also possesses a piquancy which is greatly appreciated. Nevertheless, the plain or

Batavian kind (the escarole of the French) has also its admirers, particularly for salad purposes. Now, it is to

be carefully noted that the accompaniments, or "fourniture," of these two varieties of endive are vastly

different. With the Batavian it usually is formed of chervil, tarragon, and that delicate alliaceous salad herb,

chives. On the other hand, a chapon is used with the curly endive; it consists of a crust of bread over which a

clove of garlic has been rubbed. This is thrown into the bowl and tossed about during the process of mixing

the salad, and gives to it a delightful effect. In addition to its use as a salad, the curlyleaved endive makes a

particularly good garnish for grills, such as chops, steaks, and, by the way, Sir Henry Thompson, the eminent

surgeon, remarks that the sauce par excellence for grills is mushroom ketchup. But before leaving the endive

it is as well to refer to a blood relation, namely, the wild endive or chicory. When its large, fleshy roots are

dried in a kiln, roasted and ground, they become familiarly known by their admixture with coffee. This plant,

the succory of former days, is greatly esteemed by the French, by whom it is known as barbe de capucin. To

meet the great demand for it large quantities are sold in the neighbourhood of Paris in order to produce this

salading. Its young leaves are used for this purpose, but they must be thoroughly blanched so as to take away

Corn Salad. This hardy annual salad plant is believed to derive its name from the fact that it grows

spontaneously in the grainfields. It is also known as lamb's lettuce, and in America as fetticus. Here is an

example of a once wellknown plant dropping out of use, for one of the earliestknown salads was this same

corn salad, on which was laid a red herring. But nowadays it is called m che in Covent Garden Market,

where it has been sent over from France. This lamb's lettuce is greatly appreciated on the Continent, and

makes one of the best of salads, especially when mixed with celery. As it can be easily grown in all the

coastal districts and in the cooler parts of Australia, it is certainly a matter for regret that we are not favoured

In addition to the preceding, namely, the cos lettuce, the two varieties of endive, the chicory, and the corn

salad, or lamb's lettuce, there are one or two other salad plants which require a brief notice. Now, as far as

celery and radishes are concerned, we may be said to be fairly well off; but the same is not the case with

mustard, with garden cress, or even with watercress. The latter is to be obtained from John Chinaman, it is

true; but it is curious that in Australia we see none of the watercress vendors so familiar in the streets of the

old country.. Yet there is really a good living to be made out of it, and its use would prove of benefit to

hundreds of families, as with a little salt it makes an exquisite sandwich between two thin pieces of

breadandbutter. A wise physician, Dr. T.K. Chambers, uttered a great truth when he remarked that the pale

faces and bad teeth which characterised many of the inhabitants of cities were due to their inability to obtain a

proper supply of fresh green vegetables, and that thus the watercressseller was one of the saviours of her

country. So great is the demand for watercress in New York when it first comes in that the prices range from

2s. to 4s. for a basket holding only three quarts. At this rate an acre of watercress under cultivation would

represent almost a fortune. Of course all watercress should be thoroughly washed and then dried in a towel,

like the lettuce for the salad, before it is eaten. Lastly, it must never be used from a source where any sewage

Now, although these different forms of salad plants are not cultivated to any considerable extent, yet when we

come to inquire into the salad herbs, we find that they are not grown at all, and indeed they are practically

unknown. They constitute, however, the crowning grace of a proper salad, and confer upon it a delicacy

which is unrivalled, and thus it is that any traveller will tell you that a salad in France tastes so infinitely

better than one elsewhere. Now, these salad herbs are readily grown, and do not require any care in their

cultivation, so that there is no opportunity for excuse on that score. In order, however, to prevent this paper

becoming too diffuse, I must confine my remarks to those salad herbs which it is almost impossible to do

without that is, if we wish to have any salads worth speaking of. It will be convenient, for this purpose, to

refer to the word "ravigote"; and by this term is meant a collection of four herbs, namely burnet, chervil,

chives, and tarragon. As has been already mentioned, each of these herbs, chopped up very finely, is usually

placed in a little heap by itself on the one plate, and from these four heaps is selected whatever is required for

the salad. This invariably forms the garniture of any lettuce salad, whether cabbage or cos, and also of the

Batavian endive, though, as we have already seen, the curly endive is best suited with the chapon i.e., the

crust of bread rubbed over with a garlic clove. The very derivation of the word "ravigote," from the French

verb ravigoter, to cheer or strengthen, shows that certain exhilarating virtues are ascribed to these herbs.

Burnet. This is also known as salad burnet, and is a hardy herb, which will continue green during the

greater part of the year. The young and tender leaves possess a smell and taste almost identical with

cucumber, and greatly enhance the flavour of the salad. These leaves, when blanched, are sprinkled over the

latter; but in addition burnet enters into the composition of ravigote butter, and helps to form green

mayonnaise. It hardly requires any culture whatever, and will do well in the coastal districts and in all the

cooler localities. With all these advantages, therefore, we can only marvel why it is denied us.

Chervil. Of the two varieties which are cultivated elsewhere than in Australia namely, the common

chervil and the curled variety the latter is generally considered the better. It grows about twenty inches

high, and has deeply divided leaves, which are aromatic, and which are thus absolutely a necessary

component of any wellordered salad. The plant will grow everywhere, and, as it is never seen, it is only one

instance out of the many which might be adduced, that much is neglected in Australian cultivation which

Chives. This is the most delicate of all the onion family; it occupies the one end of the scale, while garlic

presides at the other; and midway between these we find the spring onion, the shallot, and the onion itself. It

is a delightful salad herb which is too much neglected, and it is worthily entitled to cultivation in Australia. It

gives to the salad a piquancy and an agreeable pungent flavour, which, while it faintly recalls that of the

onion, is yet free from the accentuated properties of the latter. In addition to lending such an enhancement to

salads, chives may be used for soups. The plant itself is a hardy bulb, growing to a height of about eight

inches, and it is the tender tops which are used for saladings. It can be easily propagated, and will grow

Tarragon. This used popularly to be known in the old country as "herb dragon," whereas it is now vested

with the newer title. It is frequently to be found there is the country gardens, where it is in repute for the

preparation of tarragon vinegar. It, however, occupies a position second to none as a salad accessory. It is one

of the most odoriferous of the pot herbs, and gives to a salad a delightful aromatic warmth. At present all that

one can do in the concoction of a salad is to make use of the tarragon vinegar, which is so admirably put up

by Messrs. Crosse and Blackwell. Those who are fortunate enough to possess the plant itself should keep the

leaves, as when dried they retain their flavour for some time. It is recommended, however, that the young

plants should be propagated each year by division of the roots, as the plants of the first and second years are

more delicate than those of older growth. It can easily be grown over the greater part of Australia, but I am

not going to say more than that we are needlessly bereft of what we might enjoy.

In drawing attention to any matter connected with the subject of this chapter, a brief reference to mayonnaise

sauce must necessarily find a place. This may be used with all endless variety of salads, but it is particularly

concerned in the preparation of chicken, and also of crayfish salad. On looking through the cookerybooks

one gets perfectly bewildered with the different directions laid down by the various authors. This mayonnaise

sauce, however, is so very important that it becomes an absolute necessity to know the successive steps in its

preparation, for, though easily made, yet there is a right and a wrong way of going about it. Through the

kindly offices of that accomplished aristologist, Dr. A. Burne, I was enabled to have some practical

instruction in making mayonnaise sauce at the hands of the chef of the Cosmopolitan Club, and I will

The bowl he employed to mix it was about 9 in. across at the top, and its floor was rounded in shape, just as a

salad bowl should be, to facilitate the thorough incorporation of the ingredients. Then, taking a couple of

eggs, he broke each one by knocking its side midway between the two ends against the rim of the bowl. The

greater part of the white of the egg was allowed to escape into a small vessel next the bowl, as it is not

required for the mayonnaise, but comes in handy for other culinary purposes. He now, with the yolk in one

half of the shell, poured away all the white remaining in the other half. Next he dexterously turned the yolk

into this latter emptied shell and then got rid of the white left in the half previously occupied by the yolk. One

egg was thus served in this way, and then the other, and the two yolks were slipped into the bowl and broken

up with a few stirs of the eggwhisk. This latter is readily purchased from any ironmonger for the modest

sum of one shilling. The next proceeding was a wrinkle which is worth knowing, and it consisted of placing,

within the bowl about a saltspoonful of the ordinary dry mustard. This was well beaten up in a second or

two. About a tablespoonful of good vinegar was next added, the whisk going vigorously to work, and thus

blending well together egg yolk, dry mustard, and vinegar. At this stage occurred a sort of halt or breathing

time in the manipulation, as the chief peculiarity of the mayonnaise now began. The chef, with his left hand,

managed to tilt up the salad bowl and to hold a bottle of salad oil at the same time. The latter being inverted,

he kept it over the contents of the bowl in such a way as to allow only a drop or so of the oil to escape at a

time. Drip, drip, drip, went the oil, and as his right hand kept unceasingly plying the mixture with the whisk I

could not help noticing what a fine wristy action he had. Almost directly as the oil touched it the mayonnaise

began to thicken, to swell, and to change in colour. The remorseless whisk almost seemed to lash it into

foam, and now the oil came faster and faster till the amberlooking sauce was ready, and all this within the

space of at most two or three minutes. I suppose he must have used quite a teacupful of olive oil. Only one

thing more: after stirring in a sufficient quantity of pepper and salt, the chef desired me to taste the result, and

It has been my aim, indeed my only aim, all through this chapter, to bring into prominence the important fact

that the salad is a dish which is at once within the reach of every family, and moreover that it is one which is

fairly a necessity in our semitropical climate. For these very reasons, consequently, I have endeavoured to

give the fullest directions for the mixing of a simple salad. But it may be that after becoming thoroughly

expert at making this latter, and being flushed with success, the aspirant for saladic honours will be desirous

of a more ambitious essay. Some instructions for the famous herring salad have therefore been added, and it

can be reserved for high days and holidays, or as a lordly dish wherewith to entertain a muchesteemed

guest. It is slightly altered from a valuable recipe given to me by my very good friend Mr. Ludwig Bruck, and

is made as follows: Two salt Dutch herrings are to be obtained. These are imported in casks, and when

purchased have a somewhat pronounced odour, which is removed by the soaking. If milt herrings are used,

the milt should be moistened with a little vinegar and rubbed up into a paste, and this should be kept to pour

over the salad just before the dressing is added. If roe herrings are bought, the roe should be soaked in

vinegar for a few minutes, the eggs then separated and kept for sprinkling over the salad similarly to the

preceding. The herring heads and tails are to be removed and discarded; the bodies should be gutted, skinned,

and washed, and then they must be soaked in water or milk for three hours the latter enhancing the flavour

greatly. After the soaking the bones should be removed and the flesh cut into small dicelike cubical pieces,

and the latter are then set aside in a basin. The next thing is to peel and core two sourish apples, and then to

cut them up into small cubes like the herrings. To the apples should DOW be added two pickled gherkins,

and, if you like, some boiled beetroot and a few capers, and these excepting, of course, the capers should

be divided into the same small pieces. If you wish to have the real herring salad, a quarter of a pound of cold

roast veal, also in small pieces, will likewise be required. Whatever you may choose to use of these is now to

be well mixed together while the next direction is attended to. It is only fair to note here that Mr. Lang,

formerly of the German Club, who prepares the best herring salads in Sydney, always adds a little cold roast

beef, cold ham, and boiled ox tongue. While all this is being prepared two potatoes should be boiled with

their jackets on. They should then be immediately peeled and cut up into small pieces like the other

ingredients. While now hot the potato is added to the preceding, and everything is thoroughly mixed together;

it is necessary to use the potato warm, for if cold it would set hard. The methods of using the milt or the roe

of the herring have already been respectively indicated, and after this matter has been attended to, all that is

now needful to complete the herring salad is to pour over it some mayonnaise sauce, the preparation of which

"With time and care Australia ought to be the vineyard of the world." Greater Britain.

WERE I asked to name the one industry on which the prosperity of Australia must sooner or later rest, I

should unhesitatingly answer, "On the cultivation of the vine." And this must be so; for while there is every

reason to know that it will be called for from abroad, it is absolutely certain that it will be required in our own

territories. The chief purpose of this chapter, indeed, is to insist upon the value of our own wines as the most

healthful and the most wholesome drink for Australian use. It is a strange anomaly this, that at the present

period of our existence a declaration of this kind should be necessary. Yet it is only in keeping with the rest

of our food habits, with their perpetual challenge to our semitropical environment; and hence we are

confronted with the astounding fact that although we are practically Southern Europe, yet we follow a mode

Moreover, as I shall attempt to show, the Australian climate and soil are beyond all question naturally

intended for the cultivation of the grape, so that there is no occasion to overcome the forces of nature; on the

contrary, they are unceasingly giving us the greatest encouragement. Then, again, think what widespread

prosperity the use of our own wine would bring about. Apart from its beneficial influence on the national

health, it would cover the land with smiling vineyards, and give to enormous numbers a healthy livelihood; it

would absorb thousands from the fever and fret of city wear and tear into the more natural life of the country;

and lastly, it would relieve the abnormal congestion of our crowded centres, and do more to bring about

The history of the introduction of the grape to Australian soil deserves more than bare reference to that event

It will be remembered that Captain Cook discovered this territory in 1770; in November 1791, barely more

than twenty years afterwards, the first vine was planted at Parramatta, near Sydney. Nothing can demonstrate

the suitability of the climate and the soil for its cultivation more than this one fact, namely, that at the very

beginning of Australian settlement it was plain enough that the land was meant for the grape; and there is an

interesting historical association, well worthy of note, attached to this circumstance. By order of the Emperor

Napoleon, the Great Napoleon, a voyage of discovery to the Southern Hemisphere was performed by a fully

equipped expedition during the years 1801, 1802, 1803, and 1804. One of the naturalists, M.F. Peron, has

given us an excellent account of his New South Wales experience, and after referring to the Parramatta

vineyards as likely to be followed by the most excellent results, he goes on to say: "By one of those

chances which are inconceivable, Great Britain is the only one of the great maritime powers which does not

cultivate the vine either in her own territories or her colonies, notwithstanding the consumption of wine on

board her fleets and throughout her vast regions is immense." This is another illustration of the old adage that

lookerson see most of the game, for this observant Frenchman has recorded an opinion the very truth of

which comes well home to us. His remarks, moreover, open up a vista of what a great trade might be done

with India in connection with our wines; indeed, it is this interchange of products which keeps the circulation

going in the bloodvessels of commercial life. Yet, although the vine was thus early started in Australia, it

has since made but little progress, relatively speaking, in comparison with the great industry of

woolgrowing, and it will be appropriate to make this reference to the grape and the fleece conjointly, for the

same name that of John Macarthur is intimately associated with both. In a small way sheepbreeding

had been initiated soon after the settlement of Australia. But it was John Macarthur, by his introduction of the

merino sheep in 1797, who gave the first impetus which led to the subsequent creation of the Australian wool

trade. It was John Macarthur, too, who formed the first vineyard in Australia at Camden Park in 1815;

though, as I have already said, the growth of the vine industry has not advanced with anything like the same

rapidity as that of wool; if it had, Australia would now occupy a position second to none in the world.

It seems most fitting and opportune also to mention the fact that at the very time I am writing there is a

proposal in the Sydney Morning Herald to do something to perpetuate our gratitude to John Macarthur. It is

not often that one man has the opportunity of establishing two such great industries as winemaking and

woolgrowing. The benefits to Australia which have followed from the latter are altogether beyond

calculation; for which alone the name of John Macarthur deserves to hold a place in the memory of

Australians for ever, and if the wine industry had only been developed in like proportion, Australia's

prosperity would have marvellously increased. Knowing, therefore, what John Macarthur has done for

Australia, it is to be hoped that before these lines see the light of day what is now proposed will be an

The next most notable occurrence in the history of Australian viticulture is undoubtedly the action of James

Busby who in 1828, says Mr. T.A. Coghlan in his Wealth and Progress of New South Wales, returned from

Europe "with a large collection of cuttings from the most celebrated vineyards of France, Spain, the Rhine

valley, and other parts of the continent of Europe, and started, on his estate at Kirkton, in the Hunter River

district, a vineyard which has been the nursery of the principal vineyards of the Colony." This was a more

important event than would be imagined from a bare recital of the fact, for Busby has conferred upon

Australian vines a high quality for all time to come in this way. His collection of cuttings from the best of the

vineyards in Europe consisted of the choicest varieties or "cepages," and this has been a matter for

congratulation ever since. Fuller reference, however, will be made to this important subject a little farther on.

what is certainly interesting also is that Busby was so impressed with the future of the Australian wine

industry that in 1830 he published his Manual of Plain Directions for Planting and Cultivating Vineyards, and

for Making Wine, in New South Wales; and, as I have just said, the high qualities of our wines are due to him

alone, so that the name of James Busby must always be gratefully remembered by all Australians.

It makes one think that these sturdy pioneers of former times had a greater belief in Australia and her

possibilities, and more energy and foresight, than are apparently possessed nowadays. But while I am on the

subject of the literature of Australian viticulture I must not forget to mention an excellent little pamphlet by

James King in 1807, entitled, Australia may be an extensive Winegrowing Country. Indeed, James King

was another of those farseeing men who were convinced that there was a great future for the Australian

wine industry; moreover, he did a good deal in the way of developing it by cultivating the grape and by

Now, there are certain figures connected with vinegrowing and the consumption of wine which possess a

great value in relation to Australian viticulture, inasmuch as they enable us to see more clearly its relative

progress, and, what is more, they indicate its future possibilities. It is only by methods of this kind that we are

enabled to form an accurate estimate of the condition of any industry. And besides this, too, they act as a

stimulus to increased exertion. But it will be still more interesting and instructive to make a comparison

between the little which has been done in wine production and the almost incredible proportions of our wool

industry. And when it is remembered that there was nothing to prevent the wine trade from attaining a

magnitude very like to that of wool, it will be seen what magnificent opportunities have thus far been

At present the whole of Australia annually produces only a little more than three million gallons of wine,

while the yearly yield of France is 795; of Italy, 798; of Spain, 608; of Hungary, 180; and of Portugal, 132

million gallons. And another thing is that the whole of the five colonies of Australia and Tasmania have

altogether no more than 48,099 acres under vine cultivation. The total amount of wine made in the six

foregoing colonies for the year ending March 31st, 1892, was only 3,604,262 gallons. The city of Paris itself

requires nearly 300,000 gallons of wine daily, so that this single city would consume in 12 days all the wine

which the whole of Australia takes 12 months to make. So far back as 1875 the production was

1,814,400,602 gallons. And lastly, there is just one more fact worth remembering which is that the

approximate value of the 1890 vintage to France was nearly 40,000,000 l. sterling.

Let us see, on the other hand, the gigantic strides on the part of wool. In 1805 the amount of wool exported

from Spain was 6,895,525 lbs., and from Australia nil. In 1811, however, Australia exported the modest

quantity of 167 lbs. In 1861 the exportation from Spain had fallen to 1,268,617 lbs., while from Australia it

had increased to 68,428,000 lbs. In 1891 New South Wales alone produced 357,096,954 lbs., representing a

value of 11,036,018 l. And lastly, the wool exportation of Australia and Tasmania (not reckoning New

Zealand) for the same year reached the enormous figures of 593,830,153 lbs., with a value of 20,569,093 l.

The disproportion between the attention which has been given to viticulture and that which has been

TABLE showing the value of the total amount of WINE produced in the FIVE COLONIES OF

AUSTRALIA (including both that for local use and that for export) for the year ending March 31st, 1892;

and the value of WOOL (only that exported, and therefore irrespective of that locally required) for the FIVE

AUSTRALIAN COLONIES and TASMANIA alone, and not including that exported from NEW

ZEALAND, for the year 1891: .. � Total value of Australian wine (local use as well as export) produced

for the year ending March 31st, 1892, only about... 800,000 Value of wool exported from Australia and

Tasmania alone in 1891 (and therefore irrespective of the additional value of that locally required), not

From the foregoing, therefore, it will be apparent that the whole subject of Australian viticulture is one of

tremendous importance; and I am strongly of opinion that practical results will only be brought about by

awakening in the mind of the Australian public an active interest in everything connected with this, though

yet undeveloped, great wine industry. With that object in view, therefore, it will be my endeavour to bring

forward those main points of viticulture which it is most desirable should be widely known. But such an

attempt, to be successful, must largely depend upon the arrangement which is adopted, for it is impossible to

do more than take up the principal matters concerned with the space which is at my disposal. The scheme

which has been devised will, it is hoped, help to a clear understanding of the subject.

If there is one reason more than any other why the wine industry should sorely reach to colossal dimensions,

it is that the climate is naturally adapted for the cultivation of the vine. Although human effort and human

skill can overcome what looked to be almost insuperable difficulties, they cannot, as we know, fight against

climate. Hence, having a climate created, as it were, for the growth of the grape, there can be no possible

excuse offered for its neglect. Indeed, as I have already shown, the suitableness of the climate for this purpose

directly attracted the attention of the first arrivals, and as a consequence the vine was actually planted a few

There are three constituents, namely, heat, light, and moisture, which in varying proportions make up what is

known as climate. The first two, heat and light, are derived from the same source the sun and may,

therefore, be conveniently considered together. The more heat and light a vine receives the more vigorously it

grows. What is more important, however, is that the wine from it becomes stronger. It gains in strength

because the percentage of glucose increases in the must: the must being the juice pressed from the grape, but

in which fermentation has not commenced. Accordingly we find that the wines of the warmer regions in new

South Wales, Victoria, and South Australia are much stronger than those from the cooler parts.

It is important to remember that the unripe berries of the grape contain several acids, notably tartaric, citric,

and malic acids. As the fruit begins to ripen, these acids act upon the various substances, namely, starch,

gum, dextrine, lignine, cellulose, also contained within it, and grape sugar or glucose is formed in

consequence with the advent of ripening, therefore, the fruit becomes richer in sugar and poorer in acids; part

of the acids, in addition, is neutralised by the mineral salts which are absorbed by the roots. These acids,

however, are not so thoroughly neutralised in a cooler climate, and as a result the wine has often a sour, crude

taste. The warmer the climate the more alcohol the wine will contain; indeed, it may become too strong. On

the contrary, the cooler the climate the more of acid there will be, and it may possess in consequence a crude,

sharp taste. But these are matters which can be rectified by choosing the right varieties of grape for the

The third element concerned in the climate, namely, moisture, has now to be considered, and it is important

from the fact that in a moister climate the percentages both of glucose and of acids in the grape are

diminished. It is also important for another reason, namely, that while heat and light are unalterable, moisture

may be produced by irrigation. This constitutes one of the vexed questions connected with viticulture, and the

most diverse opinions have been expressed about it. Some believe that irrigation is of great value, while

others cannot say enough against it. But it would seem that when judiciously employed it is of unquestionable

advantage. It renders the cultivation of the grape possible in places where it would otherwise be impossible; it

largely increases the yield; and, what certainly must not be forgotten, it enables a lighter wine to be produced

in the warmer regions. And another argument in favour of irrigation is this, that there is far more fertilizing

matter in river water than in rain water. Hence it is that irrigation greatly enriches the land and increases the

yield. It is thus a powerful aid, and because its advantages have been abused, that is no reason why it should

There is still another matter connected with this question of climate, namely, the aspect of the vineyard,

which should be referred to because many different views are held upon it. But, as in all similar cases where

there are such decidedly antagonistic opinions, it will be found that the arguments are not maintained from

the same standpoint. So in this case the importance or nonimportance of the aspect depends altogether upon

the climate, and upon the locality whether it be level or hilly. On level ground the aspect is not nearly so

important. On hilly land it makes a considerable difference, from this circumstance, that in Australia the

northern side of a hill is always hotter than that facing the south. In the hot regions, therefore, a hill slope

facing towards the south is preferable; while in the cooler districts, since more warmth is required, a situation

with a northern aspect is necessary. It is often said that hilly ground is better for the cultivation of the vine

than level land. This is certainly true as far as cold localities are concerned, because a warmer aspect can then

People as a rule run away with the idea that the soil for the grape must necessarily be of a rich character.

Even the farmer, thinking of wheat growing, and the marketgardener, thinking of his turnips, are apt to

entertain a similar belief. But the truth is that the vine is a hardy plant and will grow in almost any place that

is not waterlogged or otherwise unsuitable. In America the definition of a soil adapted for the grape is

expressed in the following phrase: "Land that is suitable for vineglowing is land that is not suitable for

anything else." This is of course an extravagant way of stating the matter, still it is worth recalling. We may

say this much, however, that almost any soil will do for the vine, provided that it does not bake and crack in

the summer, nor get wet and boggy in the winter. A simple test is said to be adopted by the vinegrowers of

the Rhine. A specimen of the soil is put into an earthenware vessel into which boiling water is poured to

cover it, after which it is undisturbed for three days. If the water on being tasted gives a mouldy or salty taste,

In considering the soil we must pay heed to its physical and its chemical characters. By its physical characters

we mean its looseness or stiffness, its depth, and its colour. This looseness is a matter of much importance. It

fulfils the great indication required in a soil for grapegrowing; that is, a soil which will not remain damp

after having been well wet. There is a marked difference between a stiff clayey soil which dries up and cracks

The depth of the soil is a matter that varies in accordance with the climate. In warm districts the vine requires

more room for development, and goes deeper. In the cooler regions it has a sufficiency of moisture, and can

content itself with a shallower soil. The colour of the soil, like its depth, is a matter of consequence according

to the climate. A dark soil absorbs heat, becoming hotter consequently, while it reflects but little on the plant

above. On the other hand, a lightcoloured soil absorbs very little heat, but reflects almost the whole of the

rays upwards upon the vine. From this it follows that a dark soil is better in a cooler climate, because there is

generally an excess of moisture; while a light colour is more suitable in the warm regions, for the moisture is

The chemical constituents of the soil play no inconsiderable part in assisting the development of the vine. Of

these, however, there are only five namely, nitrogen, phosphorus, potash, calcium, and iron to which it

is necessary to draw attention. For the successful cultivation of wheat and other cereals a richly nitrogenous

soil is invaluable; for turnips and maize one rich in phosphorus is of great advantage; but for the vine potash

is of considerable importance. It is true that nitrogen and phosphorus are necessary for the production of the

vine wood, but it is for the fruit itself that the potash is so much required. As it is well known, the deposit

known as winestone or "cream of tartar," on the inside of the cask by the fermentation of wine, is really

tartrate of potash. In a similar way the potato is a plant which requires a supply of potash, and without it there

is a manifest diminution in the crop. But in the case of the vine, unless there is a sufficiency of potash, the

leaves do not attain to their full development; the stem is stunted to onefourth of its natural size; and there is

little or no fruit at all. Calcium or lime has a marked effect in increasing the strength of the wine. For this

reason, therefore, this element is more necessary in the cooler than in the warm regions. And finally, there is

that other chemical constituent of the soil, which deserves a brief notice, and it is iron. Now, the presence of

iron therein has a distinct effect in deepening the colour of a wine. This is without doubt the reason why our

Many words connected with viticulture are of French origin, as might be expected considering that it is a land

where the wine industry is such a source of wealth. The term "cepage" (pronounced saypazh) is one of

these, and it possesses quite a distinctive and particular significance, so that a little explanation is necessary.

The vine family is divided into several species, of which the ordinary grape vine, Vitis Vinifera, is the most

important. Of the Vitis Vinifera there are many, more or less distinct, sorts of "cepages"; and the value of the

word lies in the fact that it serves as a means of distinguishing all these different varieties. Originally a native

of Asia Minor, there are now over a thousand sorts of European vines. Of these quite a number are already

cultivated in Australia, and a brief reference to a few will help to a better understanding of the term "cepage."

Of the red grapes the following may be instanced: The Carbenet (pronounced Car'benay); of

whichthere are two varieties, the gros or large, and the sauvignon or smaller kind. The latter is perhaps the

choicest of all the red wine grapes, and has a characteristic flavour, with delicious bouquet and perfume. It

forms the basis of all the best vineyards of Bordeaux, and is largely cultivated in Australia, for it does well in

the cooler parts. And it will be just as well to take this opportunity of referring to the word "Carbenet," as in

Australia it is much too often erroneously spelt "Cabernet." The best authorities, however, are all in favour of

"Carbenet" as the proper mode of spelling. In the same way an unfortunate orthography in the case of

Riesling, which was given as "Reisling" in the London exhibition of 1886, gave a writer in the Saturday

The Pinot (pronounced Peen'o) Noir or Noirier will serve excellently to demonstrate the significance of the

word " cepage." This is the dominating grape of the best vineyards of Burgundy, and enters into the

composition of many famous wines, such as RomaneeConti Chambertin, Corton, just as the Carbenet

Sauvignon belongs to the renowned clarets of Bordeaux, Chateau Margaux, Chateau Lafitte, and Chateau

Latour. This black Burgundy does well in our cooler regions, and is usually pruned short, although it gives

Shiraz (pronounced Shiraz') is another red variety which is extensively cultivated in Australia. It is the grape

from which the celebrated Hermitage red wine of France is made, and was first planted by a monk, who

brought the cuttings from Shiraz, in Persia. It is one of our most reliable red varieties, and prospers best in a

moderate temperature. But the white varieties will perhaps afford us a better idea of the expression "cepage,"

for three different varieties may be adduced, whose characteristics are well known. First of all there is

Riesling (pronounced Rees'ling, but too often, as I have just mentioned, erroneously spelt Reisling), whose

prototype is that delicate Riesling of the Rhine, from which those famous wines of the Rheingau, namely

Steinberg, Marcobrunner, Johannisberg, as well as Hock, are made. It is probably the best of our white wines,

and does well in the cooler districts. But it should be borne in mind that long pruning is indispensable for it,

Then we have Tokay (pronounced Tok'ay), so nearly corresponding to the Furmint, which is the chief grape

grown in the wellknown Tokay vineyards of Hungary. It yields a most excellent wine, and does well in the

same regions as the preceding. And lastly, Verdeilho (pronounced Verdell'o) deserves to be referred to

amongst the white wines. It is the principal white variety grown in Madeira, and Madeira is a wine that is

especially held in repute. It is better suited for the warm districts, and requires to be completely ripe before

It was a most fortunate thing for Australia, therefore, that her pioneers in viticulture were men like James

Busby, who obtained their plants from the finest "cepages" in Europe. And this is a magnificent legacy which

must inevitably exercise a powerful influence for ever on the Australian vine. Mr. Hubert de Castella drew

special attention to this very fact in his paper read before the Royal Colonial Institute, London, in 1888: so

There are some interesting facts in connection with the different "cepages" which are certainly worth

noticing. If the climate and the soil in one place be similar to the climate and soil in another, each variety

le ce'page of the grape will always produce the same wine. Thus some vineyards on the Yarra, Victoria,

having a similar climate and similar soil to one of the great Bordeaux districts of France, produced a wine

hardly to be distinguished from that of the latter. Then, again, one vine may produce a choice wine in one

locality, but only an indifferent growth in another; and, conversely, a different "cepage" which does well in

the latter region is almost a failure in the former. For instance, in France, the Gamay in the Beaujolais district,

in which the soil is granitic, gives a superior wine to the Pinot; but, on the other hand, the Pinot in the

Burgundy country, where there is a limestone formation, gives forth a worldfamous wine, whilst the Gamay

Next, it is necessary to remember that the effect of a warmer climate is to increase the alcoholic strength of a

wine. At the same time, however, it must not be forgotten that this effect is greater in some varieties than in

others. One "cepage," giving in a cool region a wine of 18 per cent. of alcohol, when transported to a warmer

locality may show an increase to 26 per cent. of alcohol. Another "cepage," showing 20 per cent. in the lower

It will be evident from the preceding that the greatest discrimination is necessary in the selection of the

variety for any particular region; and from the knowledge at present at the vinegrower's command he can do

no more than form an approximate opinion of the "cepage" likely to suit his locality best. It is recommended,

therefore, that new planters, before starting their vineyards, should carefully observe what varieties are giving

the best results at any neighbouring vineyards; if some appear to be doing better than others, they should stick

to the successful kinds. And again, it is advisable that they should be chary of what plants other

winegrowers extol, when perhaps the latter are in another part of the country altogether and under totally

different conditions of climate and soil. Instead of committing themselves to a large purchase, therefore, they

should plant a selection of several varieties, and find out those which are the most suitable.

It is not my purpose to enter fully into the entire subject of grapegrowing, for that is too extensive to be

dealt with here; nevertheless, there are many points about it of Australian concern, over which there has been

considerable discussion. This shows that our vignerons, instead of placidly following out old lines, are

determined to find out for themselves the methods which will give the best results. That such a spirit is in

active existence is unquestionably a source of satisfaction to those who have the welfare of Australian

viticulture at heart, for it is only by a determination to find out the best course to be pursued in the many

points connected with grapegrowing, and more especially with winemaking, that we can hope to reach

And although we have the climate, and the soil, and everything in our favour, yet it must be recollected that

there are vignerons of the very highest excellence in the old winemaking countries, and that it will only be

by surpassing them that we can hope to secure the markets of the world. As I have already said, my own

belief is that the best way of infusing vigour into our winemaking industry is to arouse public interest in the

subject; and with that object in view, therefore, I shall endeavour to bring forward those matters which are of

Even at the outset we come against a disputed point, about which there has been, and is still, considerable

diversity of opinion. It is to what depth the ground should be cultivated. On the one hand, there are some who

affirm that a shallow depth of 8 or 9 inches, or even of 6 inches, is quite a sufficient penetration of the soil for

most land; but, on the other, there are many who, while conceding the fact that a superficial cultivation like

this may be successful for a few years, are strongly opinioned that a deeper working is eventually necessary.

More than this, they contend that, even admitting good results were obtained by simple ploughing, yet they

would have been still better with a deeper working. It would seem, however, that climate has a good deal to

do with the matter. In the hot districts the vine attains a far greater development than in the cooler parts, and

the roots require a deep soil. And besides this, in the warm regions the wine is naturally too strong, and the

But there is one thing in particular which should not be overlooked, and it is that the land should be in a state

of fine subdivision. One American writer insists that the ground before planting should be "as fine as bolted

flour." This expression serves very well to show the importance of a thorough pulverisation of the soil; and

the best results are certainly obtained .where this is energetically carried out.

The next thing in order is that of laying out the vineyard, in which it will be desirable to consider what

distance apart the vines are to be planted. This matter of spacing the vines is one about which there is still

considerable disagreement; and the question as to whether they should be planted near to one another, or far

apart, is yet unsettled. But the truth is no inflexible rule can be laid down, as the climate, the soil, and the

"cepage" all exercise a controlling influence. It seems to be generally admitted that in the warm districts the

In a hot climate the vigour of the plant is increased by the great amount of light and heat which it receives.

The must will be too strong, therefore, and it is only by planting the vines at a greater distance apart than

usual, and also by pruning very long, that the resulting wine will be rendered sufficiently light in strength. In

a cooler region, on the other hand, where the vigour of the plant is less, the crop on each vine must be

reduced by short pruning, so as to increase the percentage of glucose in the must and ensure a good wine.

And where the size of the plant is lessened by this method of pruning, the vines must be placed closer

together in order to make use of all the available soil. This latter itself has also to be thought of in this matter

of spacing the vines. In a rich soil, where the vigour of the plant is increased, the vines should be placed

farther apart; in a poor soil, on the contrary, they should be planted closer together.

Mr. Francois de Castella, formerly Expert to the Board of Viticulture, the author of The Handbook on

Viticulture for Victoria, and who is now the proprietor of the Tongala vineyard, in an instructive article on

viticulture in Victoria lays down the following rules with regard to the spacing of vines: "There is for each

locality, with the same conditions of soil and climate, a certain distance, we may call the optimum, at which

vines will thrive best; if this distance be increased they will not improve, and may even deteriorate. Unless

this be a distance which cannot conveniently be worked by horse labour, it would evidently be a waste of

land to plant any wider, and would entail the use of unnecessary labour for its cultivation. It would be just as

foolish to plant vines any closer than this, as it would give unnecessary pruning, disbudding, tying up, that

"I have come to the conclusion that in our district (Lilydale, a cool region) the optimum distance is 4 1/2 by 4

1/2 feet, practically 2,000 vines per acre, at least in the poorer soils; and, after careful observation, I am of

opinion that vines planted any wider will not bear more fruit. This is, however, rather too close to be

conveniently worked by horse labour. I should, therefore, recommend 5 by 5 feet. But on the Murray (a warm

region) this distance would not suit at all, and I believe that the vinegrowers are right to plant 8 by 8, and

"In conclusion, I would advise every vinegrower starting in a new district to determine by experiment what

is his optimum distance. He can make a pretty good guess from observations of soil and climate, and for the

rest let him, instead of planting all his vineyard on one scale, plant different blocks at different distances

apart, so that if he wishes to extend his vineyard later on he may know what is the most suitable way to do so.

By a careful consideration of these and other points which regulate the growth and development of the vine,

and a practical application of the deductions drawn from them, it is possible for the intelligent vigneron to

obtain from his land a maximum of return with a minimum of labour, and also to regulate the strength of his

wine so as to suit the requirements of trade, thus making viticulture one of the most remunerative as well as

In France, especially in the northern districts, the vines are placed much closer together than ever they are in

Australia, and this means that only hand labour can be employed. But it has to be remembered that the

scarcity of manual labour with us makes it necessary to arrange the vineyard with enough width between the

plants for a horse. rt is desirable, however, not to go to the other extreme and space the vines at too great a

distance from each other; indeed, in favour of a closer planting, the following influencing circumstances

should be borne in mind. In the elevated regions, where the rainfall is ample, the vines may be planted closer

together than on the plains or on the lower slopes; firstly, because there is no fear as to a sufficiency of water;

and secondly, for the reason that the vines, by being nearer together, protect one another from the inclement

weather. Spring frosts also are very liable to occur in certain localities; and here again the vines, by being

brought closer together, afford shelter to each other from the direct rays of the sun, which are particularly

Then again, although some believe that in dry districts it is better to give each vine plenty of space, yet there

are others who are of opinion that a closer formation is rather an advantage. And on this account: that since

the roots come in contact with one another, they are compelled to strike deeper in search of water just in the

very place it is desirable they should go. In addition to the foregoing, it must not be forgotten that a

darkcoloured soil absorbs more of the sun's heat than one of lighter colour; just as a dark coat is hotter to

wear than a lightcoloured one. For this reason, therefore, it is better for the plants to be closer together in a

dark soil, since the shadow of the vines will then be over the rootproducing areas.

In the South Australia Vinegrowers' Manual, which has been prepared by Mr. George Sutherland, under

instructions from the Government of South Australia, the author expresses this conviction: That a very large

proportion of the new vineyards of South Australia will be planted wide, especially in the warmer districts

and on the lower rises of the foothills; but that after all 6 feet may be found the most suitable on more

elevated localities, where we shall have to look for some of the best wines of the claret and hock type. One

leading Californian authority, according, to Mr. Sutherland, was a great advocate for wide planting. After an

exhaustive inquiry into the matter, however, throughout the wineproducing countries of Europe, he became

quite converted, and believed in closer planting. Mr. Francois de Castella also records the fact that in a block

of vines at St. Hubert's (Lilydale, Victoria), every second vine was rooted out on onehalf of the block. After

ten years it was found that on the whole the closer wines had done better than those from which every

There is another somewhat disputed matter connected with viticulture, which deserves a little notice; and it is

the relative merits of planting cuttings or rooted vines in the vineyard. The majority of the witnesses

examined by the Royal Commission on Vegetable Products in Victoria, 1889, admitted that cuttings

ultimately produced a better vine. But, as in some of the preceding points at issue, may it not be that climate

and soil have a great deal to do with the results? Signor Romeo Bragato, the Expert to the Board of

Viticulture in Victoria, in his Hints to Intending Vinegrowers, recommended cuttings, not only for

cheapness, but because if planted in the vineyard at the first they did not require removal.

In the course of his advice he proceeded to remark: "The ways used here and elsewhere by the

vinegrower are two namely, by cuttings, and rooted vines but they do not always agree which of the

two is the better. There are many who say that, for the new plantation, rooted vines must be preferred; others

maintain that it is better to plant by cuttings, because they grow more nourishing and give the vine a longer

life. Both these methods are good and to be recommended; but, in a general way, I would advise you to stick

to the cuttings, and that not only because by planting them you will have a sensible economy, but also

because if you plant the cuttings in the vineyard you will never have to more them. If you use rooted vines, it

is impossible, notwithstanding all your care and attention, for you to carry them from the nursery to the

" But if the ground which you intend to plant with vines were loose and arid, then I would never hesitate to

advise you to always use in that case rooted vines, because the cuttings without roots would not absorb the

rainy water which in such kind of soil runs away in the same time it takes to fall. This is the reason why, in

"On the selection of the cuttings depends the future of the vineyard, but of this the vinegrowers are not

sufficiently persuaded, because they do not pay all the attention required for this delicate operation. In fact,

when in the vineyards in order to cut the cuttings, they take the thin and thicks those growths on the new

wood and on the old without making any distinction, and without knowing if the old vine gives fruit or

not. Many also, without other care, leave their cuttings in the vineyard for months exposed to the air, sun, and

rain; not thinking that the very porous wood gets dry very quickly, and becomes weak near the buds. Others,

again, buy their cuttings without knowing to what variety of vine they belong, and how they were preserved.

It is not surprising, therefore, that these negligent vinegrowers, after having incurred great expense in

preparing the soil and planting the vineyard, besides having their vineyard planted with so many varieties, are

compelled to pull up a great number of cuttings that have not struck, or, having struck, do not carry fruit."

The young vine takes about four years to reach its fruitbearing stage. During this time the plant requires to

be properly trained so as to obtain the best results from the growing grape. Now, although there are many

different systems of rearing vines, yet in the main they consist of an upright stem or trunk, and an upper part

or crown the latter varying considerably in shape. Thus we have the "gooseberrybush" style, which is

employed for those vines requiring short pruning. Then there is the "trellising" style, for the longpruned

varieties, in which the vine is trained to a great distance along a wire. Indeed, these two methods may be

taken to represent the two main styles of training the vine; although the different modifications used in

There is, however, one important point which requires attention, no matter what system is adopted, and it is

the height of the vine above the ground. The nearer a vine is to the ground, the more radiated light and heat it

receives, and as a consequence its resulting nine is stronger. In vines so near the ground, also, the alkaline

dust arising from the soil neutralises the natural acid of the fruit, and prejudicially affects the fermentation of

As a matter of fact the earthy taste go t de terroir which is sometimes present in wine, is believed to

be caused by a certain amount of soil being present on the grapes during fermentation. This must be looked

to, especially in the warmer districts, where by giving the wine a greater distance above the ground, a lighter,

more delicate, and better wine, quite free from the foregoing demerit, is produced.

The testimony of experts throughout Australia is unanimously in favour of raising the vine sufficiently above

the ground, so as to keep the grapes well off the soil, and also to provide for the free circulation of air

beneath. It is true that in some parts of the Continent the practice for ages has been to keep the vines well

down against the earth. But this is done to secure the advantages of the radiated heat, and enable the grapes to

ripen. In Australia, however, even in the elevated districts, the sun is usually warm enough to ripen the grapes

Before leaving these references to the growing of the grape I purpose making a few remarks upon pruning, a

subject which is as interesting as it is important. The objects of pruning are manifold. By it the cultivation of

the wine is facilitated; the best results are obtained from each variety of grape; the yield is increased; the

product is more uniform in character; and the quality of the wine is vastly improved. But a great deal of the

work of pruning is so entirely technical that it would utterly fail to possess any attraction for the general

reader. Consequently I shall attempt no more than to briefly refer to those particular matters which are of

Now, it is laid down as a rule for pruning that some vines should be pruned short, while others require long

pruning; that is to say, one variety of wine requires to be repressed, as it were, and in another the branches

have to be kept long to produce a superior quality of wine. The explanation is that while the sap is on its way

through the roots, the stem, the branches, and the shoots of the vine, for the production of fruit, it is distilled

out, so to speak, during its passage from the earth to the fruit. As Mr. George Sutherland prettily puts it, the

grape is, in fact, the crowning product of the whole plant. In this way, the farther the sap has to travel through

the whole vine on its way to the growing fruit, the better will the resulting wine be.

To a certain extent this is true of all vines, but more especially so in the case of Shiraz and some of the Pinots.

In various districts of France, in order to bring the grape to perfection, the vinegrowers will train out their

main branches along trellises to a length of 50 and even 60 feet, so as to give the sap the longest possible

distance to travel; and, further, for the purpose of concentrating into the fruit the whole result of the wine, all

the buds and little shoots, which would distract therefrom, are carefully taken away. This gives to the vine a

very curious look, but it serves well to illustrate how greatly wines differ as to whether they require short or

long pruning. It also helps to a better understanding of the two main styles of training the vine already

The fact that this elaboration of the sap in longpruned vines requires a long distance to intervene between

the roots and the fruit itself, is one of considerable importance. It is necessary to remember, however, that

cultivation of this kind requires additional labour. Moreover, one of the principal reasons why the

shortpruned vine has become such a favourite in Australia is that it is a laboursaving vine, and therefore its

adoption is almost a necessity. But, as Mr. Sutherland remarks, "there is no doubt that Australia can never

hope to produce in any quantity the finest qualities of wine until the vignerons attend more to those practices

which depend essentially upon the fundamental fact that the sap flows with different habits through different

varieties of vines; and, therefore, that some vines require short pruning, while it is even more important to

remember that others will only yield satisfactorily under a system of long pruning."

In a paper on viticulture, at Mildura, which was drawn up for the Royal Commission on Vegetable Products

in 1890, Mr. Francois de Castella, a former expert to the Board of Viticulture, Victoria, has condensed so

"Most of the settlers I met told me that they intended to prune their vines short. Now, in my opinion, they

could not make a greater mistake for winegrowing, at least; as for raisingrowing I have never taken any

interest in the subject, and, having no experience, do not wish to express an opinion on it. I must say that all

the settlers I had occasion to speak to were raisingrowers, but I should warn any future winegrower at

"Most of our vineyard labourers come from the cold parts of Europe, such as Switzerland, where grapes ripen

with difficulty under ordinary circumstances, and where the vine does not take any considerable

development. There, short pruning has to be resorted to in order to make a drinkable wine. When these men

arrive in Australia they bring all their old habits and prejudices with them, and tell the inexperienced vineyard

proprietor that long pruning weakens the vine. The proprietor, thinking that they know more about the subject

than he does, allows them to do as they like, and they set to work to cut the vine down to such an extent that,

unable to take advantage of the genial climate to which it has been transplanted, it gives only oneeighth or

onetenth of the quantity of grapes it could be made to bear with intelligent pruning, besides being much

weakened; whereas longpruning strengthens a vine if the climate be favourable to its development.

"Another disadvantage of short pruning in warm climates is the wellknown fact that the less grapes you

have on the vine, the more glucose the must will contain; therefore, instead of making much more per acre of

a drinkable wine, which they easily could do, they content themselves with a much smaller quantity per acre

of a wine which ferments so badly that alcohol has to be added to prevent the production of lactic acid,

resulting from the excessive temperature reached during fermentation favouring the development of this

"The resulting wine, a curious mixture of alcohol, sugar, lactic acid, and water, is most unpalatable, sour,

uninviting, and unwholesome. besides ruining the name of Australian wine when sold as such.

"I may here warn vinegrowers against the advice given to them by some wouldbe authorities, who tell

them they can make a light wine by picking grapes before they are ripe. This is absurd. The unripe grape

contains a certain percentage of vegetable acids, such as tartaric, malic, some of which are themselves

converted into glucose during the process of ripening, whilst others are eliminated after helping to transform

the starch of the vegetable tissues into glucose. It stands to reason that if the fruit be picked before complete

maturity, these acids, which are not capable of fermenting, will be found unchanged in the wine produced,

thereby rendering it acid and undrinkable. It is, of course, necessary, in warm climates, to pick the grapes

before they get overripe or shrivel up; but it would be just as foolish to rush to the other extreme, and pick

"If, instead of blindly following the mode of culture which has been adopted in a cold climate, the

vinegrower would listen to the dictates of reason, and were to try a few inexpensive experiments, he would

soon find out his mistake, and confer a boon on himself as well as on his neighbour, not to speak of the

"Even in the cooler districts of Victoria, such as the Yarra Valley, I do not know of any variety of vine which

is weakened by long pruning, even in a series of years; while certain varieties are so influenced by short

pruning as to bear no fruit at all. If this be the case on the Yarra, how much more must it be so on the

Mr. de Castella then referred to some other matters connected with the practices followed at Mildura, and

"I contend that no other culture will give such magnificent returns, do so much good to a country, or have

greater attractions for the happy proprietor of the vineyard, as there is no branch of agriculture which presents

such a vast field for experimental research, or which is so extensively benefited by the practical application of

Up till this time our whole attention has been taken up with everything that has to do with the production of

the grape. But with the gathering of the crop a complete change has taken place, for nature no longer

exercises such a controlling influence. At this stage the art of winemaking really begins, and the climate, the

soil, and all the other factors that have so much to do with the growth of the grape assist us no longer. From

the moment that the grapes are gathered till the wine is ready for bottling is a most eventful period; for,

during this important time, under proper treatment, wine may be made to reach perfection.

Indeed, it is only by paying the most minute attention to all the details connected with the making of wine

that Australian vignerons will succeed in placing our wines before all others; because it is very important to

remember that the must produced in Australia is equal, if not superior, to any in the world. Now, all that

follows this portion relates to winemaking alone; and it should for that very reason, therefore, possess a

special interest for us. Moreover, it will be a good thing for the wine industry, for Australia, and for her

Naturally the first thing to suggest itself, therefore, in the making of the wine, is the place in which it is made.

There is no doubt that in Australia the importance of a proper cellar has never been sufficiently appreciated.

But the French have a proverb, "the cellar makes the wine," showing that it plays no inconsiderable part in

the production of good wine. As Mr. Walter W. Pownall, the representative of the Australian Wine Company,

explained before the Vegetable Products Commission in Victoria, a knowledge of cellar routine and cellar

work would aroid the spoiling of much good wine. A man thinks when he has grown the wine that is all that

is necessary. But the fact is, a winegrower has never done with his wine till it has passed out of his hands.

There was a valuable pamphlet on Australian wines written by the late Doctor Bleasdale, of Melbourne, in

1876. It is now out of print, and regrettedly so, for the worthy Doctor was one of the best connoisseurs of

wine Australia ever had. Mr. L. Bruck, the wellknown medical publisher of Sydney, however, has placed

me under considerable obligation by giving me his own copy, and in the preface therein I note that the author,

in speaking of this very question, remarks: "I would here reiterate what I have often stated, namely, that if

the cellar management in the three colonies were equal to the magnificent produce of the vines, no "country

on the earth could surpass, in quality and variety "of kinds, Victoria, South Australia, and New South Wales."

Then again, Mr. James Smith, of Melbourne, in the course of his admirable prize essay on Australian wine,

which appeared in Greville's Year Book of Australia for 1886, has these observations on this subject: "It is,

however, in the management of the cellar that one must look for the most efficient means of securing that

uniformity of quality which I regard as such an important desideratum. If it be not a science, it is certainly an

art requiring special knowledge, training, and experience, combined, perhaps, with natural aptitude. And it is

precisely in this respect, I fear, that our deficiency in Australia is greatest.

"In the winemaking countries of Europe the cellarmaster is an expert who inherits the skill, traditions,

methods, and usages of many generations of men who have adopted and followed the same calling. His

organs of smell and taste have been educated to practise the nicest discrimination of flavour and odour, and if

the vintage of a particular year differs in quality from that of its predecessor, he knows how, by a judicious

blending of the old with the new, of the highlycoloured with the pallid, to arrive at that uniformity which is

The cellar must neither be too damp nor too dry. Any excess of dampness would rot the casks and give a

musty taste to the wine; while, on the contrary, in too dry a cellar the staves of the casks would shrink and

cause leakage. The cellar is usually kept somewhat dark. The openings for the admission of air and light

should be provided with shutters, so that the atmosphere and temperature may be under control. The floor of

the cellar should be paved or cemented, be well levelled, and cleanliness throughout should be strictly and

But the following remarks of Signor Bragato as to what a cellar ought not to be will perhaps be more

instructive, and besides they contain a vast amount of information on the subject. In referring to some of the

cellars he came across during his tour of inspection through one of the Victorian districts, he writes:

"The majority of the buildings used as cellars are nothing less than wooden sheds, with galvanized iron roofs.

Here the air has a free circulation day and night, and the cellerman is thus rendered powerless to control the

temperature, which very often, from 100� in day time, goes down to 54� or less during the night. The

appliances required for winemaking are all round badly preserved, and are covered with mouldiness and dust.

The floor of the buildings is not paved or cemented, and it consists of earth, so that it has the power of

absorbing the wine that gets spilt and becomes the source of pernicious germs, which will spread all over the

cellar and in the air, to be finally deposited in the must and in the wine, causing irreparable loss in the quality

of the wine. There are a few good cellars, but these, also, are badly kept and badly used.

"The casks are neglected, and the coat of tartar is scrupulously left in the cask, with the erroneous idea that it

tends to preserve the wine. All the empty casks I have smelt in the cellars inspected are impregnated with bad

odours, which are not detected by the majority of the owners, in consequence of having accustomed their

olfactory organs to the predominant odour of mouldiness in their cellars, and so they are unable to detect if

"With the bad cellars which the vignerons have at their disposal, combined with the neglect of the casks and

other appliances, and the little care in the preservation of the wine, it is only natural that a large quantity of

the wine produced is spoiled, and condemned to the still to be converted into inferior brandy of bad taste and

colour, which is often used to fortify the wines, with the result of rendering them unfit for consumption.

"Amongst the wines I have tested, I found some really very good ones, presenting all the characteristics

required in a fine wine. But if there are good wines, there are also very bad ones, and these, I am sorry to say,

represent the bulk in every cellar I visited. Some of the wines are cloudy, sweetish, with a good deal of

After some further comments on various other matters, the same gentleman concludes his report with the

"Finally, I may say that by what I have seen I cannot help expressing the opinion that Australia is capable of

producing really fine wines, to be highly appreciated in the world's markets. But to produce an appreciable

wine, it is necessary that the vignerons should improve in their system of winemaking, and substitute for

their sheds cellars constructed on a rational principle; and by devoting more attention to the cleanliness of the

casks and other cellar appliances. A modification in the system of cultivation and pruning of the vines will

"There is in this country good soil, and a climate which cannot be equalled for the successful cultivation of

the vine. Capital is plentiful, and the people very enterprising; so there remains only the want of Technical

Instruction, by the institution of practical schools of Viticulture, without which it is doubtful if ever its

vignerons will succeed in making wines likely to be appreciated in the foreign markets."

In the same way Mr. J.A. Despeissis, of the New South Wales Department of Agriculture, also insists upon

cellar cleanliness. And it would seem, indeed, that there is ample justification for his deprecatory remarks. It

appears that on several occasions he has noticed fowls and pigeons roosting in the wine cellars. Now, as he

pungently observes, the wine cellar was never intended for this sort of thing. Another way of putting the

matter would be to point out what a mad thing it would be to use a fowl house as a cellar. Moreover, he gives

minute directions for disinfecting the cellar, in order to destroy any germs or minute organisms which may be

lurking in crevices or in odd corners. This is best accomplished by burning some sulphur in earthenware pots,

distributed over various parts of the cellar; previously seeing that all the windows and gaps are rendered

airtight by means of bagging. The fumes should be left in the cellar for a day or two, after which the

Moreover, a model cellar is necessarily a very elaborate affair, considering it is the laboratory, so to speak, in

which the wine is created. A model cellar would consist of the following six compartments:

1. The section for the first treatment of the grape. 2. The fermentation department. 3. The section for the

preparation and storing, of the new wine. 4. The underground cellar for the storage of the matured wine. 5.

The bottle department. 6. The distillation department and for the utilization of the refuse of wine.

The cellar of Mr. Henley, near the Ovens River, in Victoria, is very complete. It is provided with a steam lift,

a steam crushing machine, and a steam pump, while there is perfect ventilation and a uniform temperature.

His cellar is divided into three compartments: the fermenting house in the middle, the cellar for the new wine,

and the cellar for the old wine. The building is 83 feet by 80 feet, built of brick, with double walls 9 inches

thick outside and 4 inches inside, and between the walls there is 4 1/2 inches of space. The temperature on the

hottest days in the summer never surpasses 80� Fahrenheit; and, lastly, the floors, both of the cellars and the

At the very beginning one of the chief matters to be looked to is the selection of the time at which the grapes

should be picked. The proper period is that when the interior of the grape contains its principal components,

the sugar and the acids, in the right proportions. In the warmer districts the grapes are sometimes allowed to

become too ripe. In such a case there would be an excess of sugar and a deficiency of acid, and a regular

fermentation would be impossible. On the other hand, it will be remembered in the course of the remarks

upon pruning that I quoted Mr. Francois de Castella to show what a mistaken idea it is to pick the grapes

before they are thoroughly ripe in order to produce, as it is erroneously supposed, a lighter wine. It is of the

greatest consequence, therefore, to choose that particular time for gathering the grapes when they contain the

On the eventful day for the picking of the grapes the weather should be fine and bright, and in the warm

districts they should be picked early in the morning and late in the afternoon, so that they are not too warm.

The grapes should never be taken to the fermenting house when too heated; indeed, it would be better not to

crush the grapes at all than to have them in such a state. As Signor Bragato observes, if they are too warm the

fermentation will start with too high a temperature in the must, and very likely the result will be the formation

of lactic and acetic germs. In Algiers and other warm regions the grapes picked in the day are left outside

In the picking of the grapes the greatest care should be taken to discard the mouldy, dry, and dirty grapes, and

leaf insect worms should likewise be got rid of. Once the gathering of the grapes is commenced it should be

concluded as quickly as possible, and therefore a sufficient number of hands must be engaged for the

purpose. For instance, with the Riesling, if the grapes are left on the vines on a hot day twentyfour hours

On the arrival of the grapes at the presshouse, the first thing to be determined upon is whether the stalks are

to be used or not. In the case of white wines it is not customary to separate them from the grapes. A good

deal, however, will depend upon different circumstances. Thus, when grapes are grown in flat, damp places,

or during wet seasons, it is often advantageous to ferment the berries with part of their stems; but, on the

contrary, those grapes which contain a sufficiency of tannin will not require the latter. For example, in the

production of white wines at Mr. Hans Irvine's ("Great Western") vineyard in Victoria, the grapes are first

crushed with the mill, the mill consisting of two grooved wooden rollers working against each other. After

this the skins, together with the stalks, are placed in the winepress. In the case of red wine, however, the

grapes are separated from the stalks by means of an iron griddle, so that only the skins are employed in the

The methods pursued with regard to the elimination or retention of the grape stalks vary in different parts of

the Continent. The most careful vignerons remove the stalks in the case of the finest growths of Burgundy;

but in the making of champagne, and also in the Rheingau, from which part come the famous Hock wines,

the stalks are allowed to remain. In the Me'doc districts, which produce the finest clarets, the stalks are

likewise put into the fermentation vat; but this is considered to be a great mistake, since a long time elapses

before the astringent taste of the wine subsides. With the farfamed Red Hermitage wine of France, too, the

stalks are permitted to pass into the vat, and in the case of sherry and port, as well, the stalks all take part in

the fermentation, though it is believed that better results would be obtained by their removal. But in all these

old wineproducing countries of Europe the same customs have been followed from time immemorial, and

The must that is, the juice expressed from the grape, but in which (juice) fermentation has not yet taken

place is a fluid of very complex composition. It is made up of a variety of ingredients, with which it is

necessary to become familiar in order to follow, during the process of fermentation, its change into wine. We

find, therefore, that a large part of the must consists of water; this serves to dissolve the other constituents,

and to dilute them to the required extent. For instance, the sugar in the must needs to be considerably diluted

for the purposes of fermentation. In too concentrated a form it actually prevents it, as we see when fruits are

Next to water, sugar is the material which exists in the largest proportions in the must; it is, however, that

peculiar kind of sugar termed " glucose," which may be described as uncrystallisable sugar, and as consisting

of half grape sugar and half fruit sugar. It possesses the property of being able to ferment, which cane or

crystallisable sugar cannot do, unless, indeed, it first be changed into glucose. Now, it is a curious fact that

although cane sugar can be transformed into glucose, yet the latter form of sugar has never, so far, been

changed into cane or crystallisable sugar. As Mr. J.A. Despeissis points out, the invention of a process that

would achieve this would be worth more than all the mines of New South Wales put together.

In the process of fermentation the glucose is broken up into a number of substances, which differ entirely

from it; and as these different bodies are very important they deserve much attention. Under the influence of

fermentation glucose undergoes a great change, of which the principal products are alcohol and carbonic acid

gas. The alcohol is, of course, the one predominant feature in wine; and according to the amount of alcohol

In addition to these two main products of glucose by fermentation, namely, alcohol and carbonic acid gas,

there are glycerine and succinic acid, as well as a lesser proportion of other derivatives, very much akin to

alcohol. Of all these glycerine is by no means unimportant, as it confers a blandness or mellowness upon the

wine. The succinic acid, also, is distinctive for this reason, that it is the source of that characteristic flavour in

Besides the water and the glucose, the must likewise contains quite an appreciable amount of those important

bodies, the various acids. These consist of tartaric acid, so frequently met with all through the vegetable

world; of malic acid, which is the acid almost distinctive of apples; of tannic acid or "tannin," and of other

acids. These different acids play an important part in the production of wine; without them, in truth, it would

be a mere admixture of spirits and water a colourless, flavourless, and insipid product. By their assistance,

however, wine is endowed with the brilliancy it possesses. And more than this, the action of the alcohol on

these acids develops those exquisitely delicate ethers the oenanthic and other ethers which constitute,

in fact, the bouquet of the wine. At the same time, it has also to be remembered that while these many acids

constitute the life and soul, so to speak, of the wine, their very presence is absolutely necessary for the

process of vinous fermentation. That is to say, the active agents of vinous fermentation are only enabled to

There is an astringent principle, named tannin, which calls for attention in any reference to winemaking. It

is almost the same body not quite as the tannin obtained from galls, and so largely employed in

tanning. This vinetannin, if it may be so termed, does not exist in the juice of the grape, but in the stalk and

the skin. The white wines, in which the juice is almost always freed from the skins and stalks, contain but

little tannin; while, on the contrary, most red wines, in which juice, skins, and stalks are all included together

in the fermentingvat, contain a good deal. Some white wines derive their tannin from the oaken casks which

hold the wine; and their colour, in consequence, subsequently deepens. Other red wines, strange to say,

gradually lose their dark colour from a certain action of the tannin. So that tannin is the cause of some white

wines deepening in colour, while it renders other red wines of a lighter colour. Now, tannin has the effect of

preserving albuminous substances, and in this way it may be beneficial in rendering red wines more durable.

But although this may be advisable in wines which are liable to turn, it is certain that excess of tannin is most

undesirable. In fact, the practice of placing the stalks in the fermentingvat is in many cases, as I have

The mineral kingdom is not unrepresented in must, and certain saline substances are found in it. Of these, the

salts of potash are uniformly present, and the most important is, without doubt, the acid tartrate of potash.

This is the salt so well known in commerce under the name of cream of tartar. The lees of wine contain it in

considerable quantity, and it is also found as a crystalline deposit in the inside of the casks. As the alcohol

begins to develop in the must this salt is precipitated, and the more so the lower the temperature. Thus it is

that a light wine of low alcoholic strength, if it be markedly acid, will lose the acidity in a cool, underground

cellar. And, as a matter of fact, the proper maturation of a wine is impossible without a due amount of tartar;

besides this, it develops in the wine a welldefined vigour and tonicity, which improves its taste, while it also

There are a few other ingredients in must, namely, the colouring matters and essential oils, and the

albuminoids, or nitrogenous substances. The colouring matters and oils appear to be contained in the cells of

the inner side of the skin. Of these, the purpose of the colouring matter is obvious; while the essential oils are

believed to contribute to the "aroma" of the wine. The albuminoids or nitrogenous substances are of the

nature of white of egg; and, when in small proportion, are necessary for the due performance of the

fermentative process. But, in excess, they are a source of considerable anxiety to the vigneron, in that they are

The must, as we have already seen, is the juice of the grape, which has been squeezed out by the grapemill

or from the winepress. The murk, or pomace as it is called in America, on the contrary, is the mass of grape

skins, stalks, left behind in the press. A clear apprehension of these two terms is required in order that no

confusion may arise. The fermentingvat is the cask in which what is called the strong, stormy, or tumultuous

fermentation takes place. The "cuvage" is the length of time the contents are left in the fermentingvat.

The whole phenomena of fermentation are too complicated and profoundly scientific to be dealt with here. I

shall do no more, therefore, than briefly refer to the behaviour of the must in the fermentingvat.

Fermentation sets in soon after the must is placed within the latter. The germs of vinous fermentation are

contained in abundance in the air of the wine cellar, as well as being on the grapes themselves. M. Pasteur,

who has contributed so much to a proper understanding of fermentation, has proved that the yeast fungi come

from the external surface of the grapes, and are not derived from the interior. Hence it follows that the skins

are to be well crushed before fermentation begins, to ensure proper action in the must.

The temperature of the must soon begins to rise, and the fermentative agencies break up its glucose into

alcohol and carbonic acid gas. There is a bubbling and seething in the liquid during this action, which

gradually subsides. The increase of temperature in the fermented fluid begins to abate; the skins and husks

subside to the bottom of the vat; the liquid itself becomes slightly less turbid and the first stage of

A clearer insight into this important part of the process will perhaps be gained by noting some of the practices

followed on the Continent, as regards the duration of the vattage. The length of time the various contents

whether they be the grape juice alone, or the grape juice together with the skins and stalks remain within

the fermentingvat, varies greatly in different parts. In the Champagne country, the must is allowed to stand

for twelve or eighteen hours, during which time a froth arises to the top and a sediment descends to the

bottom. Without disturbing either of these, the precious liquid is carefully withdrawn into small barrels, and

the fermentation is then allowed to proceed. This purification is one of the most important matters connected

The Me'doc districts, in the Bordeaux territory, produce the finest of the clarets. The grapes are detached

from the stalks, and subjected to pressure. The must is put into the fermentingvat, to which is added the

murk resulting from the pressing, and the stalks which were previously separated from the berries. The time

necessary for vinification varies; in good years it is no longer than four or five days, and the future wine will

In one case, that of the Red Hermitage wine of France, the grapes are unstalked and crushed before being

placed in the vat. The contents of the latter are then stirred twice a day, and ultimately once a day. This is

continued for about a month, and in one of the best vineyards for forty days. This long "cuvage" appears

necessary from the fact that the large amount of sugar in the must is but slowly transformed into alcohol.

There is a curious incident which occurs in connection with the worldrenowned wines of Burgundy, which

is worth recording. As the fermentation proceeds, the murk, as in all similar fermentations, rises to the surface

of the vat, and forms what is called the "hat," or chapeau. The fermentation proceeds till all is ready for the

wine to be drawn. At this time the "hat" is so dense that it will bear the weight of two or three men. Each of

them now begins working with one foot till he gets it through the crust, and the whole chapeau is eventually

But to return to our subject. As soon as the stormy or seething fermentation is over, the young wine is drawn

off from the fermentingvat into the maturingcask, at which time it may be quite warm and turbid. In a cool

cellar and with perfect quiet it gradually becomes clearer; it deposits on the bottom of the cask many of the

substances it contains, and the fermentation becomes no longer visible. The time which this "slow

fermentation" takes to occur will vary with the type of wine, with the nature of the must, and with the

influence of the season. Speaking generally, it may be said to be from two to eight weeks after its entrance

into the maturingcask. The wine is considered to be ready for its first racking when it has become clear and

In racking there is a withdrawal of the wine from the sediment which it casts down, and which is known as

the lees. It is an important operation because irremediable damage is caused to wine by allowing it to remain

in contact with the dregs. A knowledge of their composition is of great value, since it serves to explain their

injurious influence. The lees deposited from vinous fermentation consist of mineral salts, tartaric acid, and

organic matters. Of these the 'organic substances are the most to be dreaded, and for this reason, that they are

very prone to rapid decomposition. They consist of yeastcells, cells of other microorganisms, of de'bris

and minute particles of grape stalks and skins, and of other bodies, all readily liable to decompose. All these

various materials, therefore, are continually a source of peril, for the slightest thing may start action in them,

which spreads throughout the wine and simply ruins it. By removing it from such undesirable company all

these risks are avoided, and the best possible qualities of the wine are afforded the opportunity to develop. In

the performance of racking definite changes take place in the vine, which are assuredly important. For it must

be remembered that the nearly fermented young wines contain an excess of carbonic acid gas; and this is

rightly regarded as possessing great preservative properties, in that it prevents the dangerously spreading

In the course of racking, however, a certain amount of the carbonic acid gas must be lost, and fresh oxygen is

absorbed from the atmosphere. The oxygen is invaluable from the fact that it exerts a powerful chemical

influence upon the wine; as a consequence fermentation is slightly renewed if there be any grape sugar

remaining. At the same time the colour of the wine is also modified, and any rawness or harshness in its taste

quality is enormously increased by the development of those delicate and subtle ethers which have so much

The operation of racking, consequently, is one of great importance, as it requires to be repeated from time to

time. A copious deposit of lees generally takes place after the first racking, and a second one should speedily

follow. During the first year young wines are often racked off as many as three times, but with the older

wines once a year, at the beginning of spring, may be sufficient. But it is precisely in matters of this kind that

Now, it has been pointed out over and over again that it is solely by a correct treatment of Australian wines in

the cellar that we can hope to attain to excellence; in fact, the whole secret lies in this direction. And it is very

much to be regretted, therefore, that cellar management and wine treatment have not yet been conceded their

proper position, that of being the principal factors in the success of Australian wine. Amongst others, this

very truth was pointed out by Mr. Pownall, to whom I have previously referred. In giving evidence before the

Vegetable Products Commission of Victoria in August 1889, he observed: "In some of the cellars I have

been horrified with the amount of wine which I should describe as 'perished' and as 'perishing.' It is

astounding, I can hardly express the quantity. And very often the vinegrower is so ignorant of his business

that he shows one wine which is 'tart' and 'sour,' and even praises it. I find those wines are generally

exceeding three years old, and I attribute it to the lack of cellar knowledge and treatment, because in the same

cellar where I find large quantities of bad wine I find this year's and last year's wine good, and promising

well; but if longer kept, and so treated, after a few years it will be utterly useless."

It will only be by paying attention to all the details connected with the cellarage of Australian wines that the

victory will be ours. I have said so before, and now say it again, that our Australian must is quite equal to, if

not superior to, any in the world. But it is from that very time that the critical stage in the making of our

wines begins. It behoves our vignerons, therefore, to concentrate their energies mainly upon that vastly

Of the five senses, namely, seeing, hearing, feeling, smelling, and tasting, the last is by no means the least

important. It is a wise provision, this sense of taste, in that it enables us to relish our food, and also to select

that which is suitable at the same time. If we took no pleasure in eating we should probably cease to eat at all,

and die of starvation. And if we had no taste we might eat that which was unsuitable. In illness, almost the

first things that the sufferer will complain about are that he has lost all desire for his food, and that everything

tastes alike to him. The true taste impressions are limited to the following, namely, bitter, sweet, sour, and

salt. The best substances to mark these four varieties of taste are quinine for the bitter, honey for the sweet,

vinegar for the sour, and table salt for the last. The sense of taste is closely associated with that of smell;

indeed, the sense of smell has nearly all to do with the perception of flavour. There is an inseparable

connection between the two senses of smell and taste, for when anosmia or loss of the sense of smell occurs,

all taste, except for bitterness, sweetness, sourness, and saltness, is completely lost, so far as ideas of flavour,

BrillatSavarin, the highpriest of gastronomy, quaintly puts it that smell and taste form only one sense,

having the mouth as laboratory, with the nose for the fireplace or chimney; the one serving to taste solids,

the other gases. George Dallas, too, the gifted author of The Book of the Table, also expresses the association

of taste and smell in an apt way. He makes reference to the fact that the other senses are not dependent on

each other, but that the hearing becomes more acute in a blind man. On the contrary, taste is made for

marriage, and smell is its better half. Taste loses, as he says, all its delicacy when it cannot mate with a fine

olfactory nerve. The late Dr. Druitt has likewise noted that the union of smell with taste is essential for the

From the foregoing it will be seen that when we speak of taste we refer to a complicated and extremely

delicate process. There is this also to be remembered, that it is a sense which can be cultivated to a high

degree; and in the winetaster it is brought to the very pitch of excellence. Yet, notwithstanding all this, it

must be a matter of everyday experience, that people will profess to an ability to judge wine when they

know absolutely nothing of the various points, so to speak, to be looked for. What I mean is this, that there

are many different things to be observed when a wine is tasted, and that each one requires to have proper

judgment bestowed upon it. What these are I shall endeavour to speak of in due course.

Wine tasting is a fine art as seen with the courtiers or experts who are employed by the large houses in

Bordeaux. There are exceptional qualifications required for this office, for its holders must possess a delicate

and highly trained palate, and an exquisite and perfect sense of smell, while at the same time a lengthened

experience and unerring discrimination in the value of the wine submitted to them are also called for. Mr.

James Smith, in his prize essay, already referred to, quotes with approval the following passage from a

French authority:"The courtage of wines is, then, a true science, which is acquired by long observations,

by numerous tastings, extensive practice, and a correct judgment; a science which has rendered, and is daily

rendering, true and important services to our vinicole department (that of the Gironde); for, by this means,

intelligent classifications have given to our grands crus a universal reputation, and have made our best wines

known and appreciated throughout the civilised world. In the judging of wines, therefore, at least four

essentials are necessary: two of the senses the taste and the smell must be perfect while great

Now, there is an old saying, de gustibus non est disputandum, and consequently every person has a perfect

right to like what pleases him; so that in this way anyone may prefer to drink whisky, or any other form of

spirits, and he is quite entitled to believe there is nothing so good for him; but, on the other hand, an habitual

spiritdrinker must not claim to possess a correct judgment in estimating the qualities of a good wine; for, as

a matter of fact, the daily influence of whisky on the palate is absolutely fatal to its delicacy of perception.

There are none of the graceful flavours, none of the delicate ethers, none of the perfumed bouquets in whisky

that belong to a wholesome wine. No, there is only the coarse spirit which benumbs the palatal nerves, and

renders them incapable of picking out these vinous attributes. Moreover, it would almost seem that a person's

very thoughts are controlled by his customary beverage. It is evident, indeed, that Richard Bentley, one of the

greatest scholars of modern times, believed in this doctrine; for did he not make this memorable remark to

Is it not true, also, that with many people champagne is regarded as the highest type of wine? This is more

likely to be the case with those who are beginning to realize the pleasures of life. Indeed, as it has been

acutely remarked, a youngster from college, when invited to dinner, thinks himself badly treated if he does

not get it. Now, it is not to be denied that champagne is, in its way, an imperial drink, and that it has a

specially exhilarating effect. But, at the same time, it must be remembered that it is on the other side of the

Take, for instance, a comparison of the wines of Bordeaux and of Burgundy. These are two distinct classes of

wine, and, according to Mr. Sept. Berdmore, should be imbibed different days. That they are entirely distinct

wines might only be expected, seeing that the geographical positions of the two districts are so far apart. The

Bordeaux wines come from the southwestern or Bay of Biscay side of France, while those of Burgundy

belong to her eastern portion. It is almost universally a matter of belief that the red wines of Bordeaux should

be warmed gradually taking some hours before they are drunk. The temperature of these wines should

be as nearly as possible the temperature of the diningroom itself. The finest clarets are often utterly spoiled

from the fact that this has been disregarded, and they have been brought to table without ally preparation. In

the case of Burgundy, however, an opposite treatment is required, and by many connoisseurs it is considered

to be best when brought up from a cool cellar shortly before use. All these are matters of considerable

importance, and show that the judging of wines requires something more than a mere offhand opinion.

There are certain descriptions of the different varieties of wines, given by Thudicum and Dupre', Vizetelly

and others, which are of great assistance in helping to a knowledge of the various desiderata to be looked for.

Moreover, much will be gained by collecting them together, as their principal characteristics will be better

remembered when they are thus contrasted with each other. It is not my wish to laud the wines of other

countries to the disparagement of Australian growths, but it is my object to show clearly those desirable

properties which all good wines should possess. A knowledge of these lofty standards will do more to better

The wines of the Me'doc, that district of the Gironde which produces the finest clarets, namely, Ch teau

Margaux, Ch teau Lafitte, Ch teau Latour, possess distinguishing features peculiar to themselves. They

have a certain slight distinctive roughness; are fine, juicy, marrowy in the mouth, and after having been in

bottle some years they acquire a very beautiful bouquet. They have, moreover, this remarkable hygienic

quality, that they can be drunk in large quantity without, as the French say, "fatiguing" either head or

stomach. But there is another portion of the Bordeaux country, namely the Graves, which produces both red

and white wines. The latter include those magnificent Sauternes, Ch teau d'Yquem and La Tour Blanche,

which take such high rank; Ch teau d'Yquem, indeed, has been likened to liquid gold liquid gold in a

crystal glass and is one of those most luscious and delicately aromatic of wines, with an exquisite bouquet

As it has already been stated, Bordeaux and Burgundy are entirely different wines, and this fact must be well

remembered. The wines of the latter comprise some of the most famous growths of France, and are

distinguished by the suavity of their taste, their finesse, and spirituous aroma The red wines have a fine

colour, a good deal of bouquet, and a delicious taste. They give tone to the stomach, and facilitate digestion.

Of these red wines of Burgundy the Romane'eConti is among the first growths, and it is renowned for its

fine colour, its aroma, its delicacy, and the superb quality of its delicious taste. Clos de Vougeot is another

great growth, which is slightly more alcoholic than the preceding. Chambertin, also, possesses a good deal of

s ve, delicacy, perfect taste, and pleasant bouquet; moreover, it has a softness which made it an especial

favourite with the great Napoleon. Corton, likewise, is of high colour, corse', and, as it gets older, acquires a

The white wines of Burgundy however, must not be forgotten, for amongst them is the renowned Chablis.

This, with the oysters, the squeeze of lemon juice, and the brown bread and butter, usually heralds in any

large dinner. Although slightly alcoholic, it is not heady, and possesses body, delicacy, and an agreeable

perfume, with that distinguishing pierre a' fusil taste that flinty flavour which is its recognised

Leaving the Bordeaux wines and the wines of Burgundy, it is next desirable to speak of one which belongs to

the South of France. It is well known, at least by name, to most Australians, and any description of its

properties, therefore, will be the more appreciated. This is the Muscat of Rivesaltes, in the department of the

Oriental Pyrenees. By some it is esteemed the best liqueur wine in the world. A good sample of it possesses

great finesse, a good deal of vinosity, and that wonderful muscadine bouquet which gives to it its celebrated

There is another wine, coming from the valley of the Rhone, in the southeastern portion of France, whose

name is equally familiar to most Australians; this is the Red Hermitage, or, as it is perhaps more commonly

known amongst us, Shiraz, wine. A genuine wine is distinguished by great richness, a lively purple colour,

and a special bouquet; and it becomes, by these united qualities, the best wine of this region.

Turning to the German wines, those of the Rheingau must claim our attention. This district borders on the

Rhine, and it is said that the river acts as a mirror, in reflecting the rays of the sun towards the vineyards. The

Rheingau must not be confused with the district of Hochheim, which is situated on the Maine. Yet it is

curious that the first syllable of the latter district (Hochheim) has furnished the monosyllabic English word

Hock, under which are confused all the Rhine wines. Amongst the wines of the Rheingau may be enumerated

Steinberg, Marcobrunner, and Johannisberg. With regard to the wines of the Rheingau, Mr. Henry Vizetelly

observes: "Although the flavour and bouquet of the grand wines of the Rheingau are equally pronounced, it is

exceedingly difficult to characterise them with precision. After gratifying the sense of smell with the fragrant

odour which they evolve and which is no mere evanescent essence vanishing as soon as recognised, but

often a rich odour which almost scents the surrounding atmosphere you proceed to taste the vine, and

seem to sip the aroma exhaled by it. Now and then you are conscious of a refilled pungent flavour, and at

other times of a slight racy sharpness, while the aftertaste generally suggests more of an almond flavour

than any other you can call to mind. No wines vary so much in their finer qualities as the grand growths of

the Rheingau. The produce of a particular vineyard, although from the same species of grape, cultivated

under precisely similar conditions, will differ materially in flavour and bouquet, not merely in bad and good

years, but in vintages of equal excellence. Moreover, these wines need the most skilful cellar treatment during

the long years they are maturing. All great wines, it should be remembered, ripen slowly, and cannot be

'pasturised' into perfection that is to say, cannot be rapidly matured by heating them to a certain

The Hochheim vineyards are situated, as I have previously indicated, on the banks of the Maine, several

miles above its confluence with the Rhine. There is one exceptionally fine Hochheim growth which comes

from the vineyard of the "Dechanei," or deanery. True Hochheinner is a remarkably aromatic wine, and

possesses both body and fire. Indeed, it contains as large a percentage of alcohol as the socalled noble

Steinberger the most spirituous of the Rhenish growths with more sweetness. It consequently lacks

that subdued acidulous freshness of flavour which is such a marked characteristic of the wines of the

Some reference to sherry and port is necessary, because they are both types of wines that are widely known,

and consequently ally remarks concerning, them are of value by comparison. It would appear that with most

sherry, and certainly with all port, there is an addition of alcohol to the wine. Even the wines which are sold

in England under the name of "natural sherry" contain from 13.2 to 15.5 per cent. of alcohol. Beyond all

question, therefore, from 1 1/2 to 3 1/2 per cent. of alcohol must have been added, for no "natural sherry"

should ever contain more than 12 per cent. of alcohol. Some sherries, however, have been introduced with an

alcoholicity of from 12 to 13.6 per cent., with the following, characters: The taste is freely vinous, rich, pure,

mellow, and quite free from heat or the taste of added spirit. But fashion has much to do with the type of

sherry in request; thus the colour has varied from time to time. In the same way, too, a taste for dry sherries

arose with the Manzanilla epoch, only to be carried to excess. As with all other wines, a certain age in sherry

is desirable; the ethers become developed during this period, and impart a rich flavour to it. In the course of

time, however, sherry falls off so much that it is only fit for giving flavour to young wine.

In the matter of port, also, it may confidently be asserted that not a single drop is sold that does not contain a

certain amount of added brandy. That is to say, all port wine, without exception, is brandied. The effect of the

brandy is to keep the wine quiet; it prevents it from undergoing any fermentation; and, what is more, it keeps

it from changing, no matter whether the climate be hot or cold. Messrs. Thudicum and Dupre state that a

perfectly natural port has 9 per cent. of alcohol as the lowest, and 13.8 per cent. as the highest limit.

A sample of Alto Douro wine submitted to these gentlemen, although it was slightly alcoholised, yet

possessed the following desirable qualities: it was fine, because it was derived from the finest and ripest Alto

Douro grapes, the Verdeilho and Bastardo; it was full, owing to its great vinosity and high amount of natural

alcohol, yet free from adventitious syrup; and it was pure, because free from all those faults which depreciate

so many southern wines, such as the fousel flavour, or the burning taste of distilled spirit. Besides all these

great qualities, it characteristically possessed the very essence of an ideal port wine flavour without the

saccharine and spirituous taste commonly found in port wine and it had a natural smooth astringency such

Moreover, it was very unlike the artificial sweet and burning products commonly called port wine. It was

thoroughly fermented, and contained such a minute quantity of grape sugar that the latter could not be

possibly detected by the taste. It was perfectly dry, and thereby differed entirely from ordinary port wines,

which contain from 2 to 6 per cent. of sugar. Its alcoholicity was certainly below all the port wines usually

sold. With all these desirable qualities, therefore, it possessed high dietetic and hygienic virtues, and

It will be convenient to make reference here to two terms about which there is a great deal of confusion. It is

the difference between the "aroma" and the "bouquet" of wine. Now, the Settimana Vinicola has recently well

observed that although these two are usually supposed to be the same, yet they are entirely different. The

aroma of a wine is altogether distinct from those agreeable and delicate odours known by the name of

"bouquet." For instance, some American grapes have what is called a "foxy" smell, and the wine prepared

from them has this aroma, which is perceptibly disagreeable. Aroma preexists in certain grapes, and during

vinification will pass into the resulting wine. On the other hand, perfume, the bouquet of the French, as it has

been pointed out by Professor G. GrazziSoncini, is the complex sensation produced simultaneously on the

palate and nose, owing to the intimate connection between these two organs, and which has already been

referred to. This bouquet is due to the action of the ethers, which are formed during the life of the wine. The

Corriere del Villagio remarks, in addition to the preceding, that there is a chemical difference between the

"aroma" and the "bouquet" of wine. The former is produced chiefly by one or more carburets of hydrogen,

and their oxidation derivatives. The bouquet, however, results from the admixture of aldehydes with one or

more essential oils and various ethers, produced by combination of fatty and other acids with ethylic and

other alcohols, and from these changes result the different ethers which constitute the bouquet of wine.

One of the most valuable books published on vinegrowing and winemaking is that by the justly celebrated

Dr. Jules Guyot. The greater part of one particularly important chapter is wholly taken up with the most

graphic and lucid description of winetasting with which we are acquainted. Besides this, it contains such an

amount of information on the subject, that no remarks in this connection would be complete without

reference to it. For the following vivid rendering of a good deal of this very chapter I am very much indebted

"Wine put upon its trial is subjected to two jurisdictions; the one altogether belonging to the senses, the other

wholly physiological. The appreciation of wine by the senses is referred to three of our organs of sense the

eye; the nasal chambers, in front and behind; and the mouth, equally at its anterior and posterior part.

"Wine judged by the sight. Wine pleases the eye by its clearness and colour: and be it ruby, rose, amber,

or white, it ought always to have perfect clearness and freshness of colour. Neither of these latter tones will

be out of harmony in a really good wine, even in extreme old age. If you will not take upon yourself to decide

whether a wine is good when it is attractive to the sight, you can always say that it is not good or at least that

it is not in the best condition, when its transparency and shades of colour are questionable. Freshness of

colour and clearness are good signs. Though they are not to be regarded as qualities, yet any appearance to

"Wine judged by the sense of smell; the two odours of wine. Wine reveals itself by two sorts of odours

(the aroma and the bouquet) to the outer organ of smell that is to say, when that sense is exercised by

inhaling (or sniffing) the wine. The first, or aroma, is the general and common odour peculiar to most wines.

It is always strongest when the wine is newest, but it always characterises good wine, however old it may be.

This first odour seems to be due to the volatilization of the spirit, which holds in solution an essential oil,

more or less volatile, more or less powerful, and more or less characteristic of each kind of wine. This aroma

is a sign of real quality in the wine, and is generally very strong and very noticeable during the first years; it

becomes concentrated, refined, and attenuated as the wine ages. The second kind of odour the bouquet, on the

contrary, is developed with age, and would appear to be owing to the reaction of vinous acids on the spirit,

"Wines are not made chiefly to please the senses of sight and smell Aroma, like colour, is a favourable or

unfavourable sign, agreeable or disagreeable. Yet before everything wine is a nourishing beverage. It is a

very good thing that sight and smell should be gratified in this way, but it would be puerile and ridiculous to

exalt beyond measure the importance of these organs of sense; and to pretend that the superiority of wine

rests almost exclusively on the pleasurable impressions which are derived therefrom. I have seen many hosts

bother their guests with vexatious insistence to look at, hold up to the light, sniff their wine, even the empty

glasses, almost throughout the whole duration of a banquet at the risk of making them well nigh die of

thirst. The true amateur, the winetaster, knows perfectly well how to look at and how to smell his wine; but

he knows full well also that these two preliminaries ought to be immediately followed by the taking of the

fluid into the front part of the mouth. Colour and smell are merely two notes introductory to a gastronomic

theme; if they are only by themselves they lose their relative value, and the theme is not properly understood.

"Wine judged by taste; that is, by the mouth at its anterior and posterior part. Before speaking of the

impression wine gives to the sense of taste, I ought to say that this sense is the only one in the animal

organization which possesses a double apparatus for perception one at the tip and edges of the tongue, the

other at its root and at the soft palate. The first perceives acid or electropositive tastes through the two

lingual nerves; the second detects alkaline tastes by the two glossopharyngeal nerves. Tastes perceived by

the front part of the mouth, in the case of liquids as well as solids, are not the same as those discriminated by

the back part of the mouth. An alkaline salt, for instance, gives to the front part an acid, styptic, salt, or sweet

taste, but communicates to the posterior part a basic, bitter, or saponaceous taste.

"Winetasting properly so called. Wine taken into the front part of the mouth gives rise to acid, sweet,

and styptic tastes at the outer edges and tip of the tongue. All shades, in harmony, ought to give a pleasing

sensation to the organ, when neither acidity, sweetness, nor astringency predominates. Next we pass the wine

to the posterior part of the mouth, and delay it there by a kind of gargling. It is now that we get the smack of

the soil, the taste of cask or wood, the insipidity of salts, or any bitterness. If the whole effect is pleasing to

the back part of the mouth, with the absence of all disagreeable impressions, we must, to put the finishing

touch on the winetasting, not spit it out, but swallow it. As soon as the wine has passed over the root of the

tongue and the soft palate and its pillars, a most pronounced odour ascends from the pharynx into the nasal

cavities, and gives forth newer and more powerful revelations, AS to the qualities or defects of the bouquet of

wine, than can ever be obtained by the outward sense of smell. Moreover, the last contact of wine with the

mucous membrane of the pharynx and of the base of the tongue leaves a lasting impression of taste, and when

this sensation is disagreeable it is designated under the collective name of 'aftertaste.'

"Good and bad wine judged by the senses. If, then, a wine possesses perfect clearness and freshness of

colour, if it has an agreeable odour, if the combined effect of the acid, sweet, and astringent tastes is

gratifying to the anterior part of the mouth by a fusion, seeming to form a unique taste like many notes in a

complete harmony; if to this harmonious impression the back part of the mouth adds a feeling of glow and

vinous richness, without alcohol being noticed; and if, at last, the act of swallowing crowns the whole with a

natural bouquet, not followed by any 'aftertaste,' we may pronounce the wine to be good as judged by the

senses. But, on the other hand, the wine is unsatisfactory if it fail in any of these points. It will be inferior in

proportion as the acids, sugar, and the salts become individually perceived by the tip of the tongue. Again, it

is imperfect when the chilliness, flatness, the essential oils, the taste of earth and of cask, and above all, an

excess of froe spirit, are manifestly noticed at the base of that organ. And lastly, it is defective just as the

'arri re bouquet' is less pleasant, and the 'aftertaste' more disagreeably prolonged.

"The difficulty of judging by tastes. In this unfolding of the process of winetasting I have endeavoured to

be clear, and yet I feel I have not been sufficiently so. It will be impossible to judge by tastes until science has

laid down signs or words representative of their quality, of their stamp, or of their harmonious relations. The

science of tastes has yet to be founded. Till then, chefs de cuisine and the clever caterers for banquets will

remain isolated geniuses or empirics; while, as regards winetasters and gastronomists, they approve or they

criticise, but they do not establish any rules. It would be a curious collection that would comprise all the

expressions used by winetasters, winemerchants, commercial travellers, amateurs (by far, indeed, the most

numerous class), to express the feelings they experience in tasting wines. I know an English traveller who

only liked a wine when it caused a 'peacock's tail in the mouth'; and everybody knows the expression of the

Auvergnian drinking a glass of generous old wine 'It's a yard of velvet going down the throat.'

"The physiological effect of wines. The inhabitants of a beerdrinking or spiritdrinking country will

never possess the vivacity of wit and the lightheartedness of those who live in a wineproducing land. It is

not by any means the alcohol in itself which constitutes the worth and goodness of wine, for beer may contain

as much, and spirits certainly contain more. To be more or less spirituous does not constitute good wine. All

natural wine is good, whether it be strong or weak in spirit, if it keeps its organic life. It is good, too, if it

reveals itself by a fresh odour, by a union of all its elements in a taste harmonious to the palate, by being

easily digested, and by causing greater activity of body and mind, and a sensible augmentation of muscular

force. Be the taste of the wine fresh, sharp, or delicate; be it soft, unctuous, or rich; be it acid or strong, the

wine is good if it supports and increases the forces of body and mind, without wearing out the digestive

"Wine is good relatively and not absolutely. We ought to have before everything good common wines. A

wine is good according to the use to which we put it. Even an excellent liqueur or dessert vine is undesirable

and out of place for ordinary drinking purposes or for nourishment. We must distinguish between wines for

ordinary use, those for side dishes (entremets), and those for dessert. And these again should be differentiated

into wines for small, medium, or large glasses, relatively, proportional to the quantity which we can or ought

to drink. A good cake is always good if we only eat a little at a time, and seldom take it; but bread is infinitely

better and preferred by everybody to eating cake always. It is vastly more important to have good ordinary

wines than to have good vins d'entremets or good liqueur wines. And, indeed, this very matter affects the

total consumption within and out of France, and the interests of producer and consumer, as well as the

interests of public hygiene. Good ordinary wine, alimentary wine for wine is a real and excellent food

by no means a wine strong in spirit, nor is it a wine of great age; but it is a wine of fine cepage, not going

This is a subject the importance of which cannot be over estimated. And it is one markedly calling for

consideration, as there have been, and still are, grounds for complaint in this direction. It will be advisable,

therefore, to look well into the question, because it will amply repay the trouble bestowed upon it. First of all,

then, let us refer to the remarks of Mr. Francois de Castella, the author of the Handbook on Viticulture for

Victoria. He points out that in each district there will be one class of wine which will surpass all others in

excellence, and that this is the type which the grower should produce. All the vinegrowers in any one

district should endeavour to make their wines of the type specially adapted for that particular district; and of

course the type will vary in different districts. In this way, and only in this way, will it be possible for the

At the present time there are in each district a number of wines possessing various names, such as Hermitage,

Shiraz, Carbenet, Burgundy, Chasselas, Riesling, Tokay, but these names actually mean nothing. Each

district should produce a different type of wine. A Riesling from the Yarra and a Riesling from the Murray

are as distinct as Hock and Sherry. Mr. de Castella further advises that each vinegrower should join the

VineGrowers' Association in his locality. In this way the members of each district can agree amongst

themselves to produce one class of wine, or at most two say one white and one red. Instead of the same

names being applied to entirely different wines, the nine will come to be known by the name of the district in

which it is produced. One will then be able to have some idea of the contents of a bottle, from the label upon

it. At present the name on the bottle is no indication whatever of the wine within; indeed, the same name is

on the outside of many totally distinct wines. This change must assuredly come, and the sooner it does the

Mr. Pownall, in the course of his evidence before the Royal Commission on Vegetable Products in Victoria,

also drew attention to this same want of uniformity. He believed that each vineyard ought to aim at making a

standard quality of wine, so that winemerchants might know what to expect from that vineyard. The wines

throughout Australia should likewise, as far as possible, bear uniform names. He stated that he had met wines

in various vineyards grown from the same grape, and called by different names; and though this might seem a

trivial matter, yet it led to endless confusion. Moreover, it should not be permitted to continue, especially as it

It must be said, however, that at the Great Western district, in Victoria, a start has been made in the right

direction. A report on the vineyards of that locality referred to the gratifying fact that a marked tendency

existed towards the adoption of a rational nomenclature of wines. Many of the leading growers were

confining themselves to one red and one white wine. Some of them called their wine by the name of the

vineyard, adding the words Hock, Chablis, Claret, after them. This is unquestionably so far an improvement,

and it is to be hoped that before long the wine will be known by the name of the vineyard or district, and by

Mr. James Smith has also strongly insisted upon the supreme importance of this uniformity, especially as

regards the quality of the wine. And this is perfectly true. The quality of any particular wine is solely

dependent upon the season, but the produce of any given vineyard should surely possess, as he remarks, a

distinctive cachet, by which the palate is enabled to recognise it. For instance, an expert would not fail to

distinguish between a Ch teau Margaux and a Chateau Lafitte, nor between a Chateau Latour and a Haut

Brion. Notwithstanding the different vintages, there is always a uniformity and continuity of flavour

maintained through all these great growths. But in the case of our Australian wines there is a lamentable

difference. Wines of the same denomination and from the same grower differ so materially one year from

those bearing a similar name, and coming from the same cellar, in another, that it is difficult to believe they

are the same. As Mr. Smith justly observes, this is an unpardonable defect in the estimation of connoisseurs;

more especially such as attach themselves to a particular kind of wine, and naturally drink it by preference.

Constancy of type should be unremittingly aimed at by the vigneron. And this can only be possible by

continuous attention to each individual factor concerned in vinegrowing and winemaking.

Figures help us considerably more than words in enforcing a proper idea of the magnitude to which the

Australian wine industry should develop. It will be appropriate, therefore, to preface this portion by bringing

forward a few speculative data. In an earlier part of this chapter it was stated that the city of Paris alone

requires nearly 300,000 gallons of wine daily, and that this single city would consume in 12 days all the wine

which the whole of Australia takes 12 months to make. The population of Paris is nearly two and a half

millions, while that of Australia is three millions odd. By considering these together it will be seen that the

wine which it takes over three million people all the year to make, lasts another two and a half million people

Now, the total annual wine yield of Australia, including both that used here and that which is exported, is

only worth about 800,000 l. It follows from the foregoing, then, that Paris will in 12 days consume about

800,000 l. worth of wine, and for the whole year the Parisian figures for wine consumption will reach to

something like 20,000,000 l. Let us suppose that Australia were only a winedrinking community, as her

climate unceasingly calls for. It would be fair to assume that her yearly wine bill would be in accordance with

the following rule of proportion. If Paris with her two and a half millions annually consumes wine to the

amount of 20,000,000 l., then Australia with her three millions odd would surely require for her own use at

least 20,000,000 l. worth year by year. And when it is remembered in addition that the export trade should be

enormously in excess of any local requirements, it will readily be see what a magnificent future only awaits

We cannot hope that our Australian wines will take a high place amongst those of the world as long as they

are not in general use by our own people. There can be no keener reproach than to have it said: "Why, even

the Australians themselves do not drink their own wines." And this is regrettedly the fact. It is necessary,

therefore, that first of all our people should take a very deep interest in all the details connected with

vinegrowing and winemaking, and thus give some encouragement to those who are doing their best to

establish what will ultimately become Australia's brightest glory. And it will be a good thing for this land

when a knowledge of every point in the growing of the grape, and every step in the making of the wine,

becomes part and parcel of our daily life. The very hoardings of our streets are covered with advertisements

of countless brands of whisky, and of numberless varieties of ale. But those setting forth the virtues of our

wines are conspicuous by their absence. It would seem that Australia, where our own wine should be the

It may be asked, what are the reasons which lead to this disregard of the virtues possessed by our own wines?

The reply to this question is not an easy matter, but I shall endeavour to answer it to the best of my ability.

The probability is, if a dozen people were asked, at random, why Australian wine is so little used in Australia,

that at least that number of different explanations would be forthcoming. The truth, however, is more likely to

be found in a combination of reasons, rather than from any one single cause. These are obviously worth

considering, from the very fact that the knowing of what they consist is of the first importance in rectifying

I shall begin, then, by saving that the label on the bottle has much to answer for, in that it is misleading. It

does not give any idea of what is to be found inside. Thus the word Riesling, on one bottle, may be attached

to a wine grown on the Hunter, in New South Wales, and on another to a wine from the Yarra, in Victoria. It

is true that the wine from these two places may be grown from the same "cepage." But while the river Yarra

wine will contain perhaps 11 per cent. of alcohol, that from the Hunter River will have quite 20 per cent. so

much does an increase in the warmth of the climate increase the alcoholic strength of the wine.

And while we are on the subject of labels, I must certainly take exception to the unattractive character of

those employed on the bottles of our Australian wines. There is no reason whatever why a little consideration

should not be paid to the artistic sense in this respect. Our wine merchants, it would appear, fail to understand

the selling power which belongs to the "getup" of the label on a wine bottle. I feel sure this attractiveness

has a great deal to do with the success of many products, notably in the case of the American preserved fruits.

Some of these are labelled in a manner which is creditable in the highest degree and what is more, from a

Then again, there is that want of uniformity which Mr. James Smith has so ably descanted upon, and to which

I have already referred. It is bad enough to have a wine labelled Riesling, or whatever it may be, from one

place differing entirely from a wine of the same name which comes from some other locality. But it is a far

more serious defect when the wine of any particular place one year differs entirely from the same wine

coming from the same locality at another. For the same variety of wine, of the same vineyard, thus to vary,

year by year, is simply unpardonable. This must not be allowed to continue, for while it exists Australian

nines will always be subject to reproach a reproach, indeed, which cannot be explained away.

And while dealing with these shortcomings I propose to speak of another matter, which is by no means

unimportant. I refer to the size of the bottle. It has frequently happened that visitors to Australia hare said to

me, "I should very much like indeed, I am anxious to try your Australian wines; but unfortunately I

cannot drink a whole bottle at table, and I am unable to obtain less." Now, this is undoubtedly a grievance,

and should be overcome in some way; either by putting up a portion of our wines in smaller bottles, or else

by making some arrangement so that a smaller quantity may be obtained. Since these lines were written,

however, it is very pleasing to record the fact that one enterprising firm in Sydney has taken a highly

commendable step in this very direction; and already smaller bottles of Australian wine may be obtained for

Up to this point I have made no remarks with regard to the knowledge of wine possessed by the majority of

Australians, and yet in many respects it is the most important of all. They are not called upon to pronounce an

opinion upon a wine, such as would be looked for from an expert. But I do think it is very desirable that they

should know, at least, the kind of wine that is suitable for Australian use. Once this is accomplished, and it is

by no means difficult to learn, a great deal will have been achieved. It is quite a mistake to imagine that the

value of a wine increases with its strength, and that the stronger a wine is, the more valuable it becomes. Even

in Europe itself strong wines are going out of fashion, and lighter ones are taking their place. People much

prefer a light wine, of which they can take a fair amount and quench their thirst, in preference to a strong

wine of the port or sherry type, of which they can only take a small wineglassful. But in Australia, the very

place where one would expect a demand for all lighter wines, the taste for strong wines as the rule. This is

another striking example of the same antagonism to climatic environment which is found all through our food

habits. A light wine is the wine above all others which should be most sought after. What Australia requires

as a national beverage is a wine of low alcoholic strength. It should be so cheap as to come within the easy

everyday reach of all classes. And finally, it should take the place of all other liquids, since it is essentially

The reputation of Australian wines in the English market has hitherto been damaged to a considerable extent

by the practices which have been followed on the part of some of the large buyers. But before referring to

these proceedings, to which Mr. Hans Irvine, of the Great Western Vineyard, in Victoria, has so properly and

powerfully drawn attention, it must be distinctly understood that any subsequent remarks do not apply to all

the London winemerchants. On the contrary, there are many whose characters are irreproachable, and whose

integrity is above suspicion. By clearing the ground in this way one is enabled to protest against the treatment

which Australian wine receives in London, without levelling charges against estimable men, who command

respect, and who deserve the gratitude of all Australians for their fair dealings.

Well then, most of our wines purchased by English buyers have been those of fullbodied, crude, and coarse

young wines, containing a great amount of alcohol. Two reasons have been assigned for this proceeding; the

first being that Australian wines would not bear the voyage unless they were sufficiently strong; and the

second, that in England the demand was more particularly for such a class of wine. But many of these firms

are utterly ignorant of any special knowledge as to treating the finer and more delicate wines. It has suited

these buyers to deal only with the stronger wines, as they are the more secured from any loss or trouble. For

the fact is, these wines, while being of a greater alcoholic strength, are really of most excellent character and

quality. And besides this, they release certain customers, whose idea of a good wine even at the present

time is a wine of great body and strength, and not so much one with that delicacy of character and bouquet

Some of the merchants, having but little bother with the heavier wines, have encouraged their sale to as great

an extent as possible. From this it follows that those who prefer and habitually drink a better class of wine

have never had the opportunity of becoming acquainted with the magnificent wines which Australia can

supply. As Mr. Irvine tells us, the higher types of fine, light, delicate, dry wines, with a richness of bouquet,

such as most districts in Australia are capable of producing, are the kinds of wine we must look forward to for

establishing a name and fame for our produce. It is not too much to assert that before very long Australia will

be able to supply wines whose quality will rival the choicest vintages of the most famous vineyards of

Europe. Even as it is, the delicacy of bouquet and excellent characters of many of the Australian red and

It seems a thousand pities, then, that such misconception should exist with regard to our wines. And quite

undeservedly so, for as a matter of fact these lighter wines are most unfairly neglected. They simply require

to be properly fined and carefully attended to. The casks in which they are shipped should be thoroughly

cleansed and treated before being filled, in order to take out any taint of spirits they may contain; or any

excess of tannin, which is always present in Dew wood. If these different matters be looked to they will

improve to a wonderful extent on the voyage, and after being allowed a week or fortnight's rest on arrival,

they will be found in a highly satisfactory condition. After this time these delicate wines of a low alcoholic

strength require to be duly cared for. But they are worth a little extra attention, for it is absolutely certain that

through them, and through them alone, will our Australian wines be accorded the merit and the appreciation

It must not be imagined, however, that the foregoing is the only handicap which Australian wine has to carry.

In other cases there are many reprehensible proceedings adopted, which irretrievably injure the reputation of

our wines in the English market. Some of the inferior wines are shipped home and "restored," by blending

them with full, heavy, rich wines from warmer districts. When "clothed" in this way, their imperfections are

for a time hidden, but the bad soon contaminates the whole. It is true that a good, sound, and wellmade wine

improves with age. But with these "restored" and "clothed" wines the reverse happens, and they become

Then again, many of the widely advertised Australian wines in the old country are sold too young; and

unfortunately these young wines constitute the bulk of the trade done with England. They are bottled when

too green and crude, and have not been given a sufficient time in cask to develop into highclass wines. They

must be allowed to acquire a proper amount of cask ripeness, and if they were stored and attended to for

twelve months before being bottled they would vastly improve. In some cases, also, wines are shipped from

Australia before they are twelve months old, and as they are usually fined, bottled, and sold as soon as

possible after arrival, it has actually happened that the British public have repeatedly drunk wines that are

hardly one year old. Indeed, the wines are frequently bottled when in a state of fermentation, consequently

secondary fermentation goes on in the bottle, and the bottles are often shattered by an explosion. And more

than this, they are often badly blended; they do not receive sufficient care and attention; and they are not

There is still something further which is greatly prejudicial to the fair name of Australian wine, and it is this:

Many of the wine merchants hold very small stocks, so that any one supply soon runs out and is no longer

obtainable. As a result it is urged against the wines that they are not constant, and that it is impossible to

procure the same wine twice running. With larger stocks, too, there would be some certainty that the wine

was matured, as for example with a merchant holding a three years' supply. In this case, also, the consumer

would be enabled to obtain a continued supply of any particular wine to which he might have become

My own belief, however, is that the most powerful impetus to our wine industry will arise from the

Australians themselves taking an interest in all that concerns this great source of health, wealth, and

employment. I have said so before, and take this opportunity of saying so again. Let our people take an active

interest in every detail connected with the growing of the grape, and with the making of the wine! Let a light,

wholesome wine, also, enter into the daily dietary of the whole people! For the national drink for Australian

use is unquestionably a wine of low alcoholic strength; a wine of a sufficient age to be free from any reproach

of newness; and a wine possessing those qualities which render it wholesome, beneficial, hygienic, cheering,

There are two other matters which require to be noticed before leaping the whole subject of Australian wine.

The first of these is a reference to the establishment of Viticultural Colleges, and it is one of very great

importance, because it has much to do with the development of the wine industry. Now, I am not one of those

who look to the State for everything, but it seems to me that if you recognise the necessity of State education,

you must at least equally recognise the necessity of affording the youthful population of Australia the

opportunity of learning that which must eventually develop into the one distinctive industry of this land.

France at the present day, even with her unrivalled reputation as the winegrowing country of the world,

avails herself of the advantages of Viticultural Colleges. Italy, also, by means of their help is making strides

in a manner actually bordering on the miraculous. If these countries, then, in which vinegrowing and

winemaking have been carried on for centuries find Viticultural Colleges indispensable, how much more

It must with confidence be said, therefore, that Australia cannot do without these Viticultural Colleges.

Something has already been done by the establishment of Agricultural Colleges, and this is most

commendable. But what I believe is this, that a winegrower must be a winegrower and nothing else. To

know everything connected with the growth of the grape and cellar management thoroughly is quite enough

for any ordinary man to attempt to master. Therefore viticulture must either be made a distinctly separate

course at the Agricultural Colleges; or, what if better still, Viticultural Colleges must be established for the

At Montpellier, in France, the course of viticultural education is elaborately comprehensive, and includes the

study of the anatomy of the vine, its flowers, leaves, seeds, The pupils become thoroughly acquainted with

every variety of wine in practical form; they see it grow, learn the art of pruning, and of everything pertaining

to the growth of the vine. They also master all the details connected with grafting, the laying out of vineyards,

the diseases to which the vine is liable, and the remedies which are most effectual. And, in addition, there is

minute instruction in every step in cellar management and the after care and treatment of the wine itself, from

the start to the finish. In this way the subject is studied from a thoroughly scientific standpoint, with a result

But if the benefits derived from the establishment of Viticultural Colleges in France are thus remarkable,

those which have followed their introduction into Italy are nothing less than wonderful. The School of

Viticulture at Conegliano has been the means of increasing the wine production of Italy to an incredible

extent. In 1870 Italy exported only 4,000,000 gallons of wine; yet in 1890, in the short space of twenty years,

this had risen to 88,000,000 gallons. This school has taught the people to make good wine; it has induced

people who had never dreamt of it to plant vineyards; it hag led people to plant them properly, since they

were shown the way on a rational principle; and lastly, they have thus learnt how to make wine on a scientific

basis. The course of study there is extremely severe, and as a result all those who receive diplomas from it

thoroughly understand the cultivation of the vine and the management of the cellar. This School of

Viticulture has been such a phenomenal success that other provinces of Italy brought pressure upon the

Government. As a consequence therefrom, secondary schools have been established at many places, notably

In conclusion, there is that other most important matter to which I should like to draw attention. It is to

advocate the establishment of an Australian WineGrowers' Association on a federal basis. The advantage

resulting from the formation of a strong Association, with a numerically powerful membership roll, would be

very great. Such an organization would be well able to conduct a weekly paper of its own, with contributors

from all the different colonies. There would be no dearth of literary material, for the whole subject is one

teeming with interest. Even now a substantial beginning has been made, and The Australian Vigneron and

FruitGrowers Journal is well deserving of success, and is already doing good work in this very direction.

And besides the foregoing, an Intercolonial WineGrowers' Congress should meet annually at the different

Australian metropolitan centres (Sydney, Melbourne, Adelaide, Brisbane, in rotation, where there would be

the opportunity of discussing theoretical questions, and of tasting practical results. In all these many ways

public interest in the Australian wine industry would be continually sustained; and, rising from its unfairly

neglected position, it would speedily attain to that pride of place which is manifestly its destiny.

Diplome'e of the National Training School for Cookery, London; Lecturer on Cookery to the Technical

Furnishing the kitchen is often looked upon as quite of secondary importance; but, instead of being last and

least, it ought to be first and foremost, for a cook cannot be expected to send up a good dinner without proper

utensils, any more than a carpenter can turn out a piece of furniture without proper tools. It is no doubt a great

mistake to have many things in use, for a bad servant will have every one dirty before she begins to wash up,

and a good servant will have a lot of work in keeping them clean and in good order. There are a few utensils,

not at all expensive, which are a great aid to the cook and a saving of time too, and yet from some cause or

other are seldom found in an ordinary kitchen. Before glancing at these we might consider what is the best

covering for the floor. There is no doubt that deal boards well scrubbed look nicer than anything else, but to

keep them spotless involves a lot of labour, and as this is not always to be had, perhaps the wisest plan is to

cover it with oilcloth or linoleum; a good medium quality can be bought for 3s. 3d. a square yard, and if

properly laid will last for years. By the way, it should not be washed, but only rubbed with a damp cloth first

and then with a piece of flannel dipped in oil soda and scrubbing will ruin it very quickly. If the cupboard

accommodation is scanty the dresser should be bought with cupboards underneath; in this case it will cost

about �3, but if without cupboards �1 10s. A deal table is the best, and this must be kept white with constant

scrubbing; while the cookery is going on a piece of oil baize might be laid over it. Pearson's carbolic sand

soap will remove any grease spots very quickly; the paste board and rolling pin can also be kept white in the

same way. It will be found an advantage to have two or three French or butchers' knives for cooking

purposes, instead of using the dinner knives. These can be bought from 1s. 6d. each; they are stronger and

take a better edge than ordinary knives. Wooden and iron spoons will be found cheaper and better than using

table spoons as these latter are soon ruined if used for stirring; cookery spoons cost about 3d. each; two of

each would be found sufficient. A conical strainer is more convenient and useful than the round ones so

generally used. For mixing bowls the agate iron are the best; they are a little more expensive in the first place

than the yellow earthenware, but they are unbreakable, and therefore cheaper in the end; they cost about 4s.

6d. each. A small sausage machine is very necessary, for by means of this useful contrivance many scraps of

meat and bread can be utilized; the cost of one is 10s. 6d. A pestle and mortar, too, will be found of great use

in making up odds and ends into dainty titbits; these, too, cost about 10s. 6d. Wire and hair sieves are

invaluable for preparing soups and many other dishes; sieves with a wooden rim will be found the most

durable; they cost 2s. 6d. Each. Agate iron saucepans are light and durable and very easy to keep clean; they

are much better than the blue enamelled ware, as they do not burn so readily or chip so soon. Frying pans are

nice, too, of the same ware. A set each of wire and metal dishcovers must not be forgotten; the latter should

be of plain blocked tin, and as the fluted ones soon get shabby, these should be well washed inside and out

with scouring soap and polished with Goddard's plate powder. A French fryer is invaluable; it will cost 7s.

6d. Three or four pounds of dripping clarified should be put at first; this will require straining. After being

used once or twice, the fryer should then be washed out with soda water, well dried, and the fat put back; it

can be renewed from time to time with some fresh fat, and it will keep good for weeks. When it looks very

dark throw it away and start with a fresh lot of fat; it can be used for fish, rissoles, fritters, and one can never

tell that anything has been fried in it before, if it attains the right heat before the friture is put in. It should be

between boiling water heat (212�) and boiling fat (600�), 385� being exactly right, and can be tested by

dropping in a small piece of bred. If it browns instantly it is ready; whatever is put into it will fry in two or

three minutes. Food cooked in this way will not be so greasy and indigestible as it often is if cooked in a

And now, last and most important of all, the stove; for although we may do without a great many things

which are nice and useful to have, without a stove it is impossible to cook well. It may be for gas, wood, or

coal, but it must act well. Gas stoves are extremely simple, clean, and easy to use, there are no flues to get

choked, and in towns where gas is cheap it is no doubt the easiest and pleasantest heat to use. To keep them

clean and sweet they should be well washed inside and out with soda and water at least once a week and

polished with a little Electric black lead. The flues of wood and coal stoves should be thoroughly cleansed out

once a week, and the oven cleansed with soap and soda; this is very necessary work, for if the ovens are not

clean whatever is cooked in them will be spoilt. A little thoughtful care in these matters will often prevent

much trouble when cooking. Let a housekeeper, therefore, thoroughly master her stove first, and understand

the flues and dampers, for only in this way will she be able to successfully cook the dishes she has skilfully

prepared. Cleanliness and care in respect of the stove and kitchen utensils generally are as necessary to

success as knowing the right materials to use and how to put them together, and every one who can cook a

dinner should also know how to clean and keep in good order the stove and all culinary utensils. Order and

neatness must reign in the kitchen as well as in the drawingroom, and it will help greatly to bring about this

desirable state of affairs if all utensils are cleansed and put away immediately they are finished with, for it is

much easier to wash them then than if left dirty for some time. As soon as the contents of a saucepan have

been dished, fill it with cold water, add a lump of soda, and stand it on the stove till hot; it can then be

washed up in a few minutes. Plates and dishes should at once be put into a bowl of hot or cold water; treat

spoons and forks in the same way. Knives, wipe at once, and clean as soon as possible. A damp cloth rubbed

with Monkey soap will do wonders in removing stains and dust; these, if left for a time, are hard to get off,

and the kitchen, which ought to be bright and cheerful, soon has a greasy, dirty look.

Some of us can call to mind delightful old kitchens in country houses, which were a pleasure and a joy to

both mistress and maids, where bright copper stewpans reflected the blazing fire on all sides, and metal

covers shone like mirrors; while as for "eating off the floor," one might certainly do it if so inclined, without

How cosy and delightful everything seems in a kitchen like this, and what visions can we not see of

homemade bread and cakes, wellcooked joints, succulent vegetables, delicious puddings, dainty dishes of

all kinds concocted with skilful fingers! And why should not these visions turn into substantial realities?

They will do so if women will consider it a pleasure, instead of a degradation, to "look well to the ways of her

household," and establish a system of order and neatness from cellar to garret. When this happy time comes

she will be "emancipated" from many cares and have more leisure to cultivate her intellect than she has now.

Surely "a study which helps" to make cheerful homes and healthy, wellconducted, "prosperous citizens is

"An ice chest!" someone exclaims. "I should like to know how I am to get that." Well, very easily indeed, if

there is a will to have one, for then the way is plain. A refrigerator years ago was perhaps only obtainable by

the wealthy, and regarded rightly by others as a nottobethoughtofluxury; but, thanks to the rapid

development of scientific knowledge, both ice and refrigerators are now within the means of nearly all. The

Americans in this led the way, and those in the Central States would no more dream of being without ice

during the hot season, than they would of failure to take daily supplies of bread and milk. In almost every

home through bright and sunny Australia we find a piano and a sewing machine, and yet either of these costs

far more than an ice chest, and perhaps as much to keep in repair as the ice to fill it. Looking at it from many

points of view, it ought to be considered an indispensable article of furniture, and it has this great advantage

over many "household gods," that the first expense is the last; for it never gets out of order, and lasts a

lifetime; and this cannot be said of many other pieces of furniture, which perhaps cost more and yet are not so

useful. In such a warm climate as this, where for six months in the year our one desire is to keep cool, it must

certainly be worth while to secure a simple and inexpensive article which will help us to attain this object.

Looking at the matter from the Domestic Economy point of view, we shall certainly decide at once in favour

of the purchase. Housekeepers, both young and experienced, know how much food has to be thrown away

because it will not keep sweet for even a few hours in the hot season. All this waste is at an end if there is ice

about, as it will keep perishable food cool and pleasant and ready for a second meal. Many odds and ends of

vegetables, fish, and meat can be turned into a dainty salad with the ice chest which must have been thrown

away without it. Thus the expense, not only of the ice, but also of the chest, is soon saved, to say nothing of

the pleasure and enjoyment of the said salad, which one would so infinitely rather have had than the chops

and steaks so universally served. Delicious little breakfast dishes can be concocted over night from the

remains of fish and meat served at tea and put down into the ice all night. These are cooked in a few minutes

in the morning, and form such a pleasant change to the standing dish of eggs and bacon; and how proud a

good housekeeper will feel when her little dishes are enjoyed, and she knows that they have cost nothing!

for the food would not have kept, and must therefore have been thrown away if she had not possessed an

ice chest. This is only one instance of what may be accomplished, but in the daily routine of work many more

will be found. Think, for a moment, of the state of the butter without ice on a hot day. Who does not dread the

sight of the liquid or greasy fat usually seen in the butterdish, and what a remote chance there is of enjoying

a slice of bread and butter with bread as hard and dry as a brickbat, and butter running to oil? Put both into a

refrigerator and note the difference. Look at it, also, from the hygenic standpoint. Most people, save the very

strong and robust, lose their appetite during the hot season, and therefore feel languid and weak. Give them

dry bread and liquid butter, and they can't touch a morsel; but with fresh bread, hard butter, and some dainty

titbit, kept in the ice also, placed before them, a good meal is often enjoyed. Again, in cases of illness ice

becomes at once a necessity; and if it is at hand in the house and ready for use much time and trouble will be

saved, and suffering too, as the poor invalid waits with what patience he can for the relief which is so often

And now we come to the practical question of how we are to get it, and how to keep it. There are several

companies who undertake to deliver a daily supply of ice in town and country at a very moderate price, about

sixpence a block of 10 lbs.; but when there is a larger demand for it, it will very soon be supplied at even a

cheaper rate. There is a very simple little American invention which makes ice very quickly. It is not by any

means expensive, about 21. 2s. 0d., and is invaluable in country districts away from the railway. Then for a

refrigerator there are several very simple chests which require only a small quantity of ice to keep them

charged. The smallest and cheapest is the Baldwin, costing from 30s., and another is the Iceberg, which acts

splendidly. Unlike other machines, which are liable from their complicated structure to get out of order, these

are so simple that they require no repairs, but only strict cleanliness to keep them in good order. They should

be well washed out with soap and soda at least once a week, and care taken that no little bits of food are left

in when the plate containing the main part is removed, for these morsels will cause an unpleasant smell and

quickly taint anything that may be put in afterwards. It is better not to break the ice up, but to put the whole

block in the refrigerator, and when once it is in to close the lid securely and keep it closed. It is a good plan to

put a piece of newspaper over the block, as that forces the cold air down into the lower chamber. The larger

blocks will be found almost as cheap as the small ones, as if carefully used they last much longer. No doubt,

as the desire for ice increases, smaller blocks, costing perhaps 2d., or 3d., will be made, or the present prices

reduced to that figure. This, to a great extent, is in the hands of the consumers, for as soon as there is a more

spirited demand some energetic firm will arise and supply the want, and we shall have, not only cheaper ice,

but cheaper icechests too. Dr. Muskett has pointed out some of the advantages of ice in his work on The

Health and Diet of Children in Australia, as will be seen from the following paragraph:

"In our semitropical climate a dislike is often taken to butter, when it is presented at breakfast in the form of

semiliquid grease. It would require a person with the stomach of an ostrich to digest, to say nothing of

relish, such an oleaginous composition during our summer months. But if this necessary and allimportant

article of diet can be presented in an appetising form, what a desirable result is achieved! The mass of the

people I am not referring to those who are well endowed with wordly gifts are apt to look upon the Ice

Chest as a luxury which is altogether beyond their means. But I am firmly persuaded that if the price of ice

were brought down to one halfpenny per pound, and that if a company were formed to deliver such a small

quantity as six pounds per day, or every second day, it would be a great boon, and, moreover, a wonderfully

profitable speculation. A very small and suitable Ice Chest could be constructed solely to preserve the butter

in a congealed and therefore palatable state, both to children and to adults. The former would take it with

great avidity, and the benefit to health resulting therefrom would be incalculable. Even in some of the

betterclass houses Ice is looked upon too much as a luxury, and not as it should be, a necessity; indeed, the

The stock pot is indispensable to good cooking, and although many soups and sauces can be made with water

as a foundation, nearly all of them are improved by using stock, and no cook who desires to achieve good

results should be without a basin of stock when she commences operations in the morning. There are

saucepans now called digesters, which are most useful as stock pots, but any goodsized saucepan or boiler

will do very well indeed. This should be put on fresh every morning with everything the larder contains that

is suitable such, for instance, as the bones of fresh or cooked meat, poultry, or rabbits. Never put in fat, as

this can be rendered down for pastry and frying, and only makes the stock greasy; always cover the bones

with cold water, but regulate the quantity by the material used. Put in cold water with a teaspoonful of salt,

and when it boils up, skim well; when skimming, take an iron spoon and a basin of water, and dip the spoon

in the water each time the scum is removed; then put in the peppercorns and vegetables. In very hot weather

put peppercorns and a fagot of herbs only, as the vegetables cause the stock to turn sour very soon;

peppercorns should always be used, as they impart a much pleasanter flavour to soup than pepper. A fagot of

herbs is made with a bay or peach leaf, a sprig each of parsley, thyme, and marjoram tied together with a

piece of cotton. These herbs can be grown so easily if one has a small garden, or even in a box, with very

little care; they impart such a pleasant flavour to soups and gravies. Leeks cut up with the green tops and put

into the stock pot instead of onions are very good. Part of the onion skin left on makes a good colour, but it

can be coloured by burning half a teaspoonful of sugar in an old spoon, or by a few drops of caramel the

recipe for which is given elsewhere. All fresh meat and bones should be carefully trimmed and wiped with a

warm damp cloth before putting into the pot; when the stock has boiled, stand the saucepan at the back of the

stove and simmer slowly for at least five or six hours. If strong stock is desired, leave the lid off the saucepan

for the last hour; the water will then evaporate and make the stock richer. The stock should be strained

through a hair sieve or a colander, and should stand in a cool place till the next day. If it has been carefully

made it will be in a jelly; the fat can very easily be removed with a spoon. It should finally be wiped with a

damp cloth. Removing the fat thoroughly is a most important item, for greasy soups and sauces are most

indigestible and unwholesome. If the stock has to be used at once, remove the fat first with a spoon, and then

pass pieces of this paper lightly across the surface; these will absorb the fat. A small piece of charcoal laid on

top of the stock will prevent it turning sour in the hot weather. With this basin of stock to work on, many

dainty titbits are possible which could not be made without it. How often has the cookery book been

searched for "something nice" and laid down with a sigh when half a pint of gravy has been found necessary

to concoct the desired dainty! But with a basin of stock on hand, all these things are procurable, and it

certainly does not take more than ten minutes to break up the bones, skim the pot, and strain it, and last of all

it costs nothing. In cases of sudden emergency, when stock is wanted and is not to be had, the recipe for

Quick Beef Tea answers very well, using one quart of water instead of one pint, and by adding a few

vegetables; this is made in five minutes. White soup is looked upon as quite a highclass soup, but it is just as

easy to make as any other kind. A piece of stewed veal or mutton, or a boiled chicken, gives the stock at

once, or the bones of mutton, veal, or pork alone will form the foundation. Never throw away the water in

which carrots, parsnips, celery, or even cauliflowers have been boiled. Vegetables contain a great deal of

potash, which is a valuable food for the blood. A great deal of this potash comes out in the water during the

process of cooking; if this liquor is used as a foundation for soup, we utilize this. For this reason vegetable

soups, and stews containing plenty of vegetables, are such a good diet for anyone suffering from or subject to

diseases of the blood and bones. These simple facts seem to be overlooked; but if Australia is to become in

the future, as we all hope it may, a power in the world second to none, the wives and mothers of her husbands

and sons must understand the necessity of providing them with a diet which shall make them strong and

brave, and root out what now seems to be the curse of the land dyspepsia brought on in a great

measure by badly cooked and therefore indigestible food. The remedy for this is in the hands of the women of

Australia, and if they will rise to their position and importance and do their work with a high and holy

motive, they will not find it the drudgery it is often supposed to be. What does Owen Meredith say?

"We may live without poetry, music, and art, We may live without conscience, and live without heart, We

may live without friends, we may live without books, But civilised man cannot live without cooks. He may

live without books what is knowledge but grieving? He may live without hope what is hope but

deceiving? He may live without love what is passion but pining? But where is the man that can live

Soup is a much neglected food; there are many excuses made for this one says it is "expensive", another it

When once the principle of the stock pot is understood the first excuse falls through, for in any ordinary

households the stock can be made from bones and trimmings of meat, and costs nothing. Neither does the

excuse of too much trouble hold good. Some little time must be devoted to cooking, and soup will almost

cook itself while other preparations are going on, and it can be made at any time and just boiled up when

required. As for being unnecessary, that is quite a mistake. To give the greatest amount of nourishment with

the least trouble to the digestive organs should be the study of every housekeeper, and soup is a valuable aid

in this respect. For weakly and delicate constitutions, for the young and the aged, there is no better food, and

for the busy workers it is invaluable, for immediately after work the digestive organs are not in a proper state

to do hard work, and little soup prepares the stomach for the more solid food to follow. It is quite a mistake to

suppose that a rich, heavy soup is necessary, and that a large quantity must be taken. In either case, the effect

would be to take away the appetite, instead of which it is to stimulate and encourage the appetite that the soup

Soup is a splendid restorative, and if given to any one suffering from exhaustion or over fatigue will quickly

restore strength, and be found far better than any stimulant. Soup is often disliked because it is greasy and

served lukewarm; if the directions given in the paragraph on the stock pot for removing the fat be carried out,

it will never be greasy, and if it is boiled up just before serving, it will be hot. Allow half a pint of soup for

Beef bones are the best for this stock; break them up very small with a chopper,

teaspoonsful of salt, and when it boils up remove the scum carefully, and put in

one onion, one carrot, half a turnip, a little piece of the outside stalk of celery,

and 1 dozen peppercorns. Boil steadily for six hours, or longer, then strain off

through a colander or sieve, and stand in a cool place till the next day. Carefully

and veal bones. The bones and trimmings of all kinds of poultry, game, and rabbits

are also excellent, particularly for soups that require a special flavour. To make

strain off and remove the fat, and it is ready for use, but it is much better to let

Fish for nearly all dishes is better if boned before cooking; it is also economy to do

them well in cold water, and cut away any black substance that may be adhering to

one onion, and one carrot; boil steadily for two hours or longer, strain through a

If a large quantity of water has been used, the boilings will be poor; therefore,

when the meat has been taken up, leave the pot on the fire and let it boil quickly,

The water in which corned beef or pork has been cooked is generally too salt for

soups, but it should be stood away till cold, when a thick cake of fat will be found

places, lay it in a very clean stock pot, cover well with cold water, and bring to the

boil slowly; put in a dessertspoonful of salt, and skim very carefully; draw away

from the fire, place it where it will boil steadily, put in 2 dozen white peppercorns,

one onion stuck with six cloves, and a fagot of herbs. This is made with a sprig

nutritious broth for invalids. The meat can be made hot again in about half a pint

of the stock and served with parsley butter sauce. A recipe for this is given with

from the bones, and cut the meat into small pieces; put all together into a stock

and two carrots, draw away from the fire and let it boil steadily for five or six

hours or longer, then strain off through a colander and stand away in a cool place.

This is the foundation for nearly all good brown soups. The bones boiled again will

Remove all fat and skin from the meat and put it twice through a sausage machine

or scrape it into a pulp with a sharp knife, pour over the cold water, and let it

stand for an hour. Pour it into a brown baking jar and put it into a cool oven, and

keep it below boiling point for an hour or longer, according to the heat of the oven.

It should look brown, thick, and rich, when sufficiently cooked. Strain through a

Pass the meat twice through a sausage machine, put it into a saucepan, pour over

the cold water, and stand on the stove; stir constantly until it comes to boiling

point, but do not allow it to boil. As soon as it changes colour from red to brown

Scrape the meat to a pulp with a sharp knife, pour over it with water; cover over

Mince the meat very small, put it into a brown baking jar, and cover down with a

closelyfitting lid or with brown paper. Stand in a saucepan of boiling water for one

them into an enamelled saucepan, well covered with cold water; add a teaspoonful

of salt, stand on the stove, and when it boils up remove the scum very carefully.

patient. Boil steadily for eight or nine hours; the liquor should then be reduced to

one quart. Strain off, and, if possible, let it stand till quite cold; it should then be

in a jelly, and can be made hot as required. When serving this to a convalescent a

spoonful of rice or pearl barley well washed in cold water and boiled in either stock

let them cook for half an hour, stirring occasionally. While they are cooking clean

the giblets thoroughly, washing them first in hot and then in cold water. Cut open

the gizzard, remove the stones, and cleanse well. Cut them all up into small pieces

liquor, put in the peppercorns tied in a piece of muslin, and a piece of bacon rind if

This soup is not as expensive as it appears, for the bacon is served as a dish of

meat, either after the soup or cold for breakfast or tea. Put two quarts of water

into a saucepan; when it boils put in a pound of bacon neither too lean nor too fat.

Let it boil slowly for one hour. The bacon must be well washed and scraped before

cooking, and when it boils skim the pot thoroughly. Well wash the cabbage and soak

it in hot water for half an hour. Take all the water away and put the cabbage into

the saucepan with the bacon and vegetables cut up, and the peppercorns tied in a

cabbage, and cut it into quarters. Take one quarter and cut it into small pieces

slices and lay on the top, pour over the boiling liquor, and serve. Dish the bacon,

Put the water or stock on to boil, and when it boils put in the macaroni and boil

grated cheese, then one of macaroni; repeat this until all the materials are used

up, pour over it boiling the liquor in which the macaroni has been cooked, cover

Potaufeu is the national dish of France; it is cheap, nourishing and palatable, and

very simple to make. The slower it is cooked the better it is; in fact, in this lies

Tie the meat up into a nice shape with a piece of tape, put it into cold water, bring

vegetables, and put them in with the fagot of herbs and the peppercorns tied in a

piece of muslin; bring to simmering point, and keep it so for five hours. The liquor

The stock for this soup should be good and in a strong jelly when cold. Put it into a

cloves, 1 dozen white peppercorns and some salt, and boil all together for half an

hour; then strain out the vegetables and put it back into the saucepan. It should

soup. Slice up the apple, onion, and carrot, and fry them in the butter; sprinkle

and stir until it boils up, simmer gently for one hour, then rub through a sieve and

return to the saucepan. Bring to the boil, flavour with salt and lemon juice. Pour

Peel and slice up the vegetables and sprinkle them with the sugar and salt, and put

boiling stock and stir until it boils; boil slowly for an hour, then rub through a sieve.

If it is too thick, reduce it with a little more stock or milk, return to a saucepan,

take it out and stir in the sago; continue stirring until the sago is transparent and

the stock quite thick, then pour in the milk and bring up to the boil. Season with

flavoured; if not, boil an onion and carrot in it and strain out. Wash the celery

thoroughly and cut it into pieces one inch long, put it into the boiling stock and boil

for half an hour, then sprinkle in 1 oz of sago and stir until it is transparent. Pour

in the milk and bring to boiling point; it is then ready to serve. This is an excellent

Peel and slice up the turnips, wash the rice and put into a saucepan with the onion

through a sieve and return to the saucepan, with the milk and a seasoning of salt

Boil the onion and carrot in the stock for twenty minutes. If the stock is not a

good colour put in half a teaspoonful of burnt sugar. Strain out the vegetables,

wash the tapioca in cold water and stir it in; continue stirring until the tapioca is

quite clear, flavour with salt and lemon juice, and serve very hot. This soup should

Choose small fish of different kinds and fillet them. As only half the fillets are

quarts of cold water with a teaspoonful of salt, and when it boils remove the scum

saucepan; wash the vegetables that have been boiled in it, slice them up and put

in; simmer for half an hour, then put in a little lemon juice, pour into a tureen, and

sprinkle a little chopped parsley on the top. Send brown bread and butter to table

into this stewpan with an onion stuck with six cloves, 2 dozen white peppercorns,

and a fagot of herbs, and boil together for half an hour, then strain off and return

to the saucepan with the milk. When nearly boiling thicken with a tablespoonful of

Slice up the onions or leeks, one carrot, and make a fagot of herbs; fry them in

Sprinkle over a tablespoonful of cornflour, and when brown pour over the boiling

enough, burn a little sugar in a spoon and stir it in. If half a teaspoonful of sugar is

sprinkled over the vegetables when they are frying they will brown much quicker.

When the vegetables are soft rub the soup through a wire sieve and return to the

saucepan. Boil the macaroni in salt and water for twenty minutes, strain off, and

cut into pieces one inch long; put these into the soup and simmer for a quarter of

an hour. Flavour with a little salt and pepper if necessary, and pour into a hot

Soak the haricot beans for an hour or two, then put them into a saucepan with the

stock or water, the onions, and 1 dozen white peppercorns; boil for four hours and

pepper and salt, stir until it boils. It is then ready to serve. An ounce of butter

This is one of the most nourishing soups that can be made. It is an excellent food

water and boil until they are of a pulp, then rub them through a sieve, return to

the saucepan, add the milk and seasoning, and stir till it boils. Pour into a hot

Peel and slice up the onions and fry them in the butter till they are a good brown

colour. Sprinkle over the flour and brown that too. Pour on the boiling stock and

boil steadily till the onions are very soft, then rub through a sieve. If there is any

fat on it remove it carefully, pour back into the saucepan, add the milk, pepper,

Just before serving put in a few drops of lemon juice. Send fried bread to table

Peel and slice up the pumpkin, onions, and carrot, put them into a saucepan with

half the butter, and sweat the vegetables in it for five minutes, then pour over

sieve and return to the saucepan with the milk and some pepper and salt; stir until

Just before serving, stir in, in tiny pieces, the rest of the butter and a little lemon

onions, and celery, and slice them up; put them into a saucepan with the haricot

sprinkle over them a teaspoonful each of salt and sugar, add the peppercorns and

Rub them through a sieve, return to the saucepan and make thoroughly hot, and it

weather, boil an onion, carrot, fagot of herbs, and a dozen peppercorns in it for

half an hour, then strain the stock and put it back in the saucepan. Sprinkle in the

semolina and stir until it boils; simmer till the semolina thickens, then add the milk,

Sprinkle over a teaspoonful each of salt and sugar and a quarter of a teaspoonful

of pepper; turn them about in butter for five minutes, pour over the boiling stock

and sugar. Sprinkle over the flour and mix well together. Cut up the tomatoes and

put them in, then pour over the boiling stock and stir until it boils. Simmer slowly

for an hour. Rub through a sieve, return to the saucepan and make thoroughly hot,

vegetables and return to the saucepan; stir in the sage and continue stirring until

it is clear and the soup is thick; pour in the boiling milk, boil up and pour into a

Carefully remove all the fat from the liquor; put it into a saucepan. Wash the rice

and cut all the vegetables into dice; stir them in, and simmer by the side of the

fire for an hour. It must be cooked very slowly and without the lid. Add salt to

Wash the lentils well in two or three waters and put them into a saucepan with the

minutes. Pour over the boiling water and boil steadily for four hours. If the soup

return to the saucepan; stir in the butter, salt, and pepper to taste. Boil up and

Season well with salt, and stir in 1 oz butter or dripping. Bring to the boil and pour

into a warm tureen. Send some dried mint and fried bread to table with it. This is a

very nourishing soup, particularly if it is made with stock instead of water; it is

sugar, salt, and peppercorns; sweat them for five minutes. Pour over the boiling

butter to the saucepan. Stir in the cornflour, and when well mixed pour over the

stock and stir until it boils. Slice the kidney up into small pieces, and put it in;

simmer very gently for one hour. Just before serving, season with salt and a little

Boil the sago, stock, and onion together till the sago is clear; then take out the

Beat the yolks of the eggs in a basin, pour over the boiling milk, strain into the

stock. Put over the fire and whisk till it comes to boiling point, but do not let it

be white. Nothing is nicer than the liquor in which a piece of veal has been stewed.

If plenty of vegetables have been boiled in it none need be added when the soup is

made. If not, boil an onion or leek, a slice of turnip, and a small piece of celery

stalk in the stock for twenty minuets, and strain them out. Put the butter into a

stewpan, and when it is melted stir in a tablespoonful of cornflour, pour over the

milk and stock, and stir until it boils. Boil the macaroni in salt and water for

twenty minutes, strain off the water, and cut it into pieces about 1 inch long; put

these into the soup, and simmer for ten minutes. Just before serving, flavour with

The fish stock for this soup should be well flavoured with vegetables. If a crayfish

be used, remove all the white meat and boil the shells in the stock for half an hour

with fried bread. Wash the shells well in cold water before putting them into the

Remove all the fat from the fish stock and put it into a saucepan with six white

peppercorns, an onion, one slice of turnip, a fagot of herbs, and some carrot. Boil

into the saucepan. Mix a tablespoonful of cornflour smoothly with the milk and stir

it in; continue stirring till it boils. Skin and fillet the fish and cut it into dice, put

serving add a few drops of lemon juice, and salt to taste. Pour into a tureen and

Wash and strain the cabbage well, and cut it up into slices; throw it into boiling salt

and water, and cook for five minutes; strain all the water off and put it into a

saucepan with the salt, pepper, and two quarts of boiling water, and boil for one

it up into dice. Put it into a warm soup tureen and pour the boiling soup over it.

Put the butter into a saucepan, slice up the onions and carrot and fry them in it

with the herbs, peppercorns, and a good pinch of curry powder. Mix the cornflour

boiling stock; stir until it boils, and then simmer slowly for an hour. Rub through a

sieve and return to the saucepan. Add the salt, sugar, and the tapioca; stir until

hard pieces of bread; it should be crust only for this soup. Boil the milk and stock

together, pour it over the onions and bread, and let it simmer very slowly, closely

covered, for an hour; rub through a sieve, season with salt and pepper and a few

larder. Sprinkle over the sugar, make very hot, and cover down closely until the

saucepan, and boil slowly for an hour. Stir in a small piece of butter and it is ready

or dripping, and brown them. Then let them cook, covered over, for an hour. Break

in some brown dry crusts of bread. Pour over the boiling liquor the water in which

some vegetables, such as carrots, turnips, or cauliflowers, have been boiled, stir

it well and boil for an hour; rub through a sieve. If it is not thick enough, let it boil

again without the lid for ten minutes. Season well with pepper and salt, and serve.

boiling water, until it is about the right consistency. Take out the onion and carrot

and stir in the butter, a small piece at a time. Beat the yolks of the eggs in a

basin, stir them quickly in, and bring again to boiling point, but do not let it boil;

cutting up a dry crust into small pieces, dipping them in water, and baking until

make them a good colour. Mix up half a pint of the milk with the stock, and boil the

artichokes, onions, and peppercorns in this for an hour. Rub through a hair sieve

with a wooden spoon. Stir in the milk and some salt, pour back into the saucepan

and stir until it boils. If the artichokes do not thicken the soup sufficiently,

sprinkle in a little sago or semolina when it is returned to the saucepan. Serve with

The consumption of fish as a daily article of food is not nearly so large as it ought

to be if we studied our health. It must be admitted that it is much more expensive

than meat, and cannot be bought so readily. Then again, ordinary plain cooks only

know how to fry and boil it, so that very little variety can be obtained; and even

the appetite. Not one cook in a hundred knows how to boil fish properly. If a little

complaints, and fish, instead of being a neglected food, would be a much desired

thing. It is therefore an invaluable food for people obliged to be indoors a great

deal, or for those engaged in literary work, for it contains, besides other good

things, a good proportion of phosphorus, and this is excellent food for the brain

and organs of the chest. It is, however, with the cooking of fish that we have to

deal. In the first place, be sure that it is perfectly fresh. The flesh should be firm

rejected. It must also smell sweet; again, it must be thoroughly cooked. It is a

matter of taste whether we like well or underdone meat, but underdone fish is the

most unwholesome as it is the most repulsive food that can be offered to us, and

in no process of cooking is more judgement required than in the cooking of fish.

transparent when raw, but are milk white when cooked sufficiently. If the French

method of frying is practised, the large quantity of fat cooks it very quickly, and

after it is cooked. Put it on to a hot dish and cover with a cloth, and stand over a

saucepan of hot water till required; if left in the water it soon becomes insipid and

watery. In all dishes of dressed fish much depends upon the sauce served with it.

sauce recipes, and if these are carefully studied, the art will be easily acquired. In

country districts where fish can be had for the catching, it should form the chief

item in at least one meal during the day; and if variety in dressing it is studied, it

will not be found monotonous, as it sometimes is if only fried and boiled. The ice

Free the fish from skin and bone and flake it up; mash the potatoes smoothly, mix

saucepan, and when it is quite hot put in the fish and the potatoes. Beat up the

and stand away to cool. Add a teaspoonful each of water and oil to the egg. Make

over with the egg, and toss them into the crumbs. Shape again and fry in very hot

fat, arrange in the form of a wheel on a dish paper, garnish with fresh or fried

squeeze over a few drops of lemon juice; cover with a piece of paper well rubbed

with dripping, and bake in a moderate oven for about twenty minutes or longer, if

the fish is large. Remove the skin and fins, and put them on the dish; pour over

parsley finely, and boil the egg hard, cut it in half, and either chop the yolk or rub

it through a sieve, and chop the white. Arrange these in alternate rows all over

Fillet the fish, wash and trim them, roll them lightly up with the skin inside. Rub a

paper, and bake in the oven for twenty minutes or until they look milk white. Dish

them carefully, make the white sauce by recipe given, season it with pepper, salt,

Fillet the bream; cut each fillet into two pieces, wash and trim them. Make some

Make a sauce by directions given, using a little of the oyster liquor mixed with the

milk; flavour with salt and pepper, and a little nutmeg and lemon juice. Stir in the

Fillet the fish and cut them into strips, wash them well in cold water and dry in a

another soup plate, and stand over a saucepan of boiling water for threequarters

of an hour; reserve the plates once while it is cooking, place in a hot dish, and pour

do just as well; take away the skin and bone, and flake it up. Make a sauce of the

butter, flour, and milk; season with anchovy, pepper, salt, and lemon juice; stir in

the fish and mix well. Line some small patty pans with flaky pastry, put a spoonful

twenty minutes. Dish on a fancy paper, and garnish each patty with a tiny sprig of

Fish requires careful preparation for successful frying; it may be filleted or fried

whole, but in either case it must be well washed in cold water, but not soaked; dry

in a cloth. Mix on a plate a spoonful of flour, pepper, and salt. Beat on another

plate an egg, with a spoonful each of water and oil, and have plenty of dry fine

crumbs on a sheet of paper; when these things are all ready, dip the fish in the

flour and dust off again; put at once into the egg and cover well; then drop into

the crumbs, shake them all over it; next toss in the hands to shake all the loose

crumbs off; lay on a plate separately, and either fry at once or leave in a cool

place for an hour or two. Plunge into plenty of hot fat and fry till crisp and brown;

drain for a few minutes on kitchen paper; pile on a dish, and garnish with either

sauce, bring it up to the boil, and cook on the stove very slowly for an hour. Just

before serving, season with salt and lemon juice to taste. Boil the rice and dry

thoroughly; press into little cups or moulds. Dish the fish carefully and pour the

Flake up the fish, butter a small dish, and sprinkle well with bread crumbs; put in a

layer of fish, a little sauce and seasoning, and some bread crumbs. Continue this

in layers until all the fish is used up. Put plenty of crumbs on top and the rest of

the butter in small pieces. Bake in a moderate oven for 20 minutes. Garnish with a

Use cold fish and potatoes, if there are any in the larder; if not, boil a piece of

sheet, turn the mixture on to it and shape into the letter S, brush over with egg

or milk, and bake till brown. Slip it off on to a hot dish, and garnish with parsley.

Cold fish will do very well for this dish. If fresh is used, fillet it and cut into small

pieces; if cooked, flake up into small pieces. Lay in a buttered piedish, season

with pepper, salt, and chopped parsley; pour over the sauce and cover with a short

pastry made with 1/2 lb flour and 1/4 lb dripping. Brush over with egg or milk, and

Fillet the mullet and cut into small pieces; dip in flour seasoned with salt and

pepper. Cover with French frying batter, the recipe for which is given elsewhere.

Plunge into plenty of hot fat and fry until a good colour; drain for a few minutes

Mince the onion, parsley, and bacon very finely, and put them into a basin with the

seasoning and crumbs, and mix thoroughly. Butter a dish in which the fish can be

and lay it on this bed of seasoning; spread the rest of the seasoning on the top,

pour over gently the gravy. Cover with a few raspings and put the butter on in tiny

pieces. Put it into a quick oven and bake from 15 to 20 minutes, according to the

together; season with half the parsley, pepper and salt. Mince the bacon and onion

minutes. Stir in the fish and potatoes and turn about until thoroughly hot through.

Pour over the gravy or milk and again make thoroughly hot. Heap on to a dish, and

flavour with anchovy and stir the fish in. Simmer for a few minutes, stir in the

yolk of the egg, and turn on to a plate to cool. Make up into small balls, fill a frying

minutes. Dish the balls in a circle and pour over the melted butter, which has been

Fillet the fish, wash the bones, and put them into half a pint of white stock, and

boil them for half an hour. Strain out and mix with 1 gill of milk. Wash the fillets

Dish them carefully, strain the liquor, and make a sauce of it with the butter and

flour by directions given. Season and flavour this and pour it over the fillets;

Fillet the fish, wash and dry them; put them on to a baking sheet, sprinkle with

lemon juice. Put a few little pieces of butter over them; cover with buttered paper

fillets. Place them carefully on the dish in which they are to be served, pour over

over them some dry cheese, brown in front of the fire, or under the grill if using a

of vinegar. Bring to the boil, and skim well; then boil steadily for an hour, or longer

if the eels are large. Take out the fish, slip out the bones, and cut the meat into

small pieces. Put back the bones and boil the liquor quickly without the lid for half

Dissolve the gelatine in a little cold water or gravy and stir in. If a very special dish

is desired, the liquor can be clarified with the white of an egg in the same way as

jelly. Rinse a mould in cold water, arrange in it the pieces of eel and a hard boiled

egg cut into slices with a few sprigs of parsley. Strain the liquor over and stand

truss it into the shape of the letter S. Rub some dripping on to a baking sheet,

which should only be just large enough to take the fish. Put some dripping on the

top, and bake in a moderate oven for halfanhour, or longer if large. Slip it on to a

hot dish, draw out the trussing string carefully, flavour and boil up the gravy and

The bacon should be cut very thin, and then into strips about 1 inch broad and 3

inches long. Roll these up, and thread on a skewer first a roll of bacon and then an

oyster, until the skewer is full; lay on a baking sheet and cook in the oven for

Strain the liquor from the oysters, boil it up and pour over them, cover down for

butter, then more crumbs, and continue in layers till the dish is full. Pour over all

Put it into hot water, and boil gently for five minutes or longer if the fish is very

thick. Take it out of water and put it on to a hot dish, rub a small piece of cold

butter over it and cook for a few minutes either in the oven or in front of the fire.

One or two soft boiled eggs broken over it is a nice way of serving it, or a few

very thin slices of bacon well cooked may be placed round the dish as a garnish.

Pick all the white meat from a crayfish, and cut it into pieces about two inches

season with anchovy, lemon juice, pepper, and salt. Dip the pieces of crayfish into

this and plunge into plenty of very hot fat; fry a good colour, drain on kitchen

Skin and fillet the fish and cut into small pieces; make a dry crust of the suet, and

flour and line a pudding basin with it. Lay the fish in lightly, and season with the

parsley, pepper, and salt. Pour over the melted butter; this should be made with

1/2 oz butter, 1/2 oz flour, and 1 gill of water. Cover the top of the pudding with

crust, tie down securely with a cloth and string, and plunge into plenty of boiling

Pick the fish free from skin and bone, and chop it up. Make a smooth thick sauce

with the flour, butter, and water, by directions given elsewhere. Flavour it with

anchovy, parsley, pepper, and salt; stir in the fish, and mix well. Turn on to a plate

till cold. Make up into small balls, cover with egg and bread crumbs, and fry in hot

Fillet the fish, put the bones in a saucepan, and just cover them with water. When

the pulp of the tomatoes through with the liquor. Make a smooth sauce with half a

pint of this liquor, the butter, and the flour; if the colour is not good add a few

drops of cochineal. Fold the fillets of fish neatly, and bake in the oven with a little

Flake up the fish and mix it with the rice; shell the eggs and cut them in half, put

the yolks on one side. Chop the whites and mix them with the rice and fish; season

nicely and put into a saucepan with the butter, and stir until thoroughly hot. Pile

on a dish, and either chop the yolks and sprinkle them over, or hold a sieve over

Wash the fish, dry them on a cloth, and rub them with a little salt. Lay them in a

Take them out and let them get quite cold in the vinegar, then lay them in a dish,

Make the veal seasoning by recipe given elsewhere; sew it into the eel and put it

into a deep dish. Just cover it with water, and bake it in a good oven for about one

hour. Take it up and keep hot, strain the liquor in which it has been cooked; take

Stuff and cook the eel as in the preceding recipe, and strain off the liquor. Rub

the tomatoes through a sieve; mix with half a pint of the liquor in which the fish

was cooked. Make a sauce of this of this with butte and flour, season with pepper

Put the roes on in cold water and boil for about half an hour. Take them up and let

them get quite cold, then cut into slices. Make some frying batter by recipe given

elsewhere. Season it with salt and pepper, dip in the slices, and fry a good colour.

Pile high on a dish and garnish with fried parsley. Roes may also be fried in egg and

Cods' roes are the best for this dish, but any roes will do. Wash them well, cover

with cold water seasoned with salt, and boil for half an hour, or longer if the roes

are large. Take them up and stand away till cold, then cut into slices about half an

inch thick. Make some tomato sauce by recipe given elsewhere; when it is boiling,

season with cayenne, nutmeg, and salt; stir in the yolk of an egg, lay in the slices

of roe, cover down until hot through. Cut the toast into as many pieces as there

are slices of roe, stand them in a dish, and put on each some roe. Make the sauce

Fillet and slice up the mullet, season each slice with parsley, pepper, and salt. Dip

the tomatoes in boiling water, skim and slice them up. Butter a piedish, lay in the

slices of fish and tomatoes alternately. Cover the top with bread crumbs and little

Make a forcemeat and sew it into the fish. Rub some dripping over a baking sheet,

truss the fish into shape, and lay it on. Rub the rest of the dripping on to a piece

of paper, cover the fish carefully, bake in rather a hot oven for half an hour or

longer, according to size; take of the paper, dish it, and pour round a nice brown

sauce. A fish forcemeat is made with 2 oz cold fish, 1 oz suet, 1 oz bread crumbs

Any scraps of cold fish may be served in this way. If any fish sauce is left, nothing

is nicer to warm it in; if not, make a little with 1 gill of milk or water, 1 oz

of butter, and 1 oz of flour. Flake the fish up, butter a plate, put the fish in and

pour the sauce over. Sprinkle with brown bread crumbs, and bake in the oven for a

Any kind of small fish will do for this dish. Wash and dry them; well butter a sheet

of stiff writing paper, lay the fish in, sprinkle them with a little very finely

chopped onion or shallot, parsley, pepper, and salt. Squeeze over a few drops of

lemon juice, and put a few little pieces of butter about them; wrap them up in the

paper and bake for twenty minutes. Serve in the paper in which they were cooked.

Split open the fish and remove the head and backbone, wash well in cold water and

dry in a cloth. Chop the parsley, herbs, and suet, and mix these together; add half

the crumbs, the rind of half a lemon, and pepper and salt. Butter a baking tin, lay

on a fish skin downwards. On this place a layer of seasoning, a little lemon juice,

seasoning. Do the rest in the same way, piling one on top of another; over all put

the rest of the crumbs and butter, bake in a moderate oven for half an hour. Slip

Put the butter into a saucepan, and when it is hot add the leeks or onion chopped

small, and let them get a good colour without burning; then add a quart of water,

the fagot of herbs, the saffron tied in a piece of muslin, and the potatoes peeled.

Bring up to the boil, and when they are nearly cooked cut the cod into slices and

lay it in. Cook slowly for twenty minutes, take up the fish, and put it in a hot dish

bread into slices, put it into a hot dish, and strain the liquor over; serve with the

Wash the whiting, dry them in a cloth, mix a little flour, pepper, and salt together,

cover the fish thoroughly with this. Butter a thin dish, lay the whiting in and put

baste constantly with the butter. This must not be allowed to get black; it should

twenty minutes, according to the thickness of the fish, place them in a hot dish

Split the mullet open and wash away the black substance from the bones, dry on a

cloth, rub with oil and sprinkle them with pepper and salt, and leave them in a cool

place for an hour. Rub a gridiron with a piece of suet, and when it is quite hot put

on the fish and broil it carefully, turning it two or three times whilst cooking. Lay

To broil successfully a very clear fire is required, and it should be made up some

time before it is wanted. Broiling on a gasstove is equivalent to broiling over a

success. If it boils it has a watery, insipid flavour, and drops of pieces very often

when it is taken out of the water. The water must boil well before the fish is put

in, and be seasoned with salt and a teaspoonful of vinegar or lemon juice; lay the

fish carefully in, and bring the water to the boil again. Then draw it away from the

fire, cover down closely, and keep it just below the boil. The time it takes to cook

depends so much on the size and thickness of the fish that no hard and fast rule

can be given; about ten minutes to every lb., will be sufficient. It is always done

cooked, and if it is not wanted just at the time, cover it with a cloth and keep it

washed in fresh water, scraped and cleaned. Lay it in a fishkettle, cover with cold

thickness of the fish. It should be dished on a serviette, and garnished with sprigs

of parsley and slices of lemon. Send it to table with boiled parsnips and egg sauce.

Make the mustard with vinegar instead of water, and stir into it some cayenne and

salt. Rub the sardines over with this, and either fry them in a little dripping or grill

out the centre bone; sprinkle the inside of the fish with finely chopped onion and

parsley, pepper, and salt. Put back the upper fillet, trim away some of the bones,

minutes. Boil the egg hard, remove the shell, take out the yolk and either chop it

or rub it through a sieve, cut the white into shapes. Take the fish from the oven

Fillet the fish and lay them in a dish; sprinkle them well with lemon juice, pepper,

salt and parsley. Lay over them some slices of onion and leave them for an hour,

then fry them either in batter or flour. Drain them for a few moments on kitchen

Fillet the fish, skin and chop very find; sift the flour into a basin, drop in the eggs,

in the chopped fish. Butter a basin, pour in the mixture and boil for one hour; turn

Mash the potatoes and make them into a paste with the flour and egg, roll out and

cut into small pieces. Season the oysters with lemon juice, pepper, and salt; put

three of four into each piece of potato crust. Roll it up, brush over with milk, and

Fillet the fish and fry them in egg and bread crumbs; slice and fry the onion, lay

this and the fish in a tin dish. Cover with stock, put in the cloves, peppercorns,

flour and ketchup together and stir it in; put back into the oven for ten minutes.

Boil the macaroni in the oyster liquor or in weak stock till quite soft. Rub a little

butter on a dish, cut the macaroni into pieces two inches long and lay it at the

bottom. On this place the oysters, and season them with cayenne, salt, and a little

lemon juice or nutmeg. Pour over the milk or sauce, cover with bread crumbs, and

brown it in a quick oven. A few little pieces of butter laid on top of the crumbs

broiling, braising, and frying. Of these methods roasting and baking are conducted

on the same principle dry heat; boiling and stewing are often spoken of as if they

were the same, but this is quite a mistake. When we boil a joint we plunge it into

boiling water, and this water should cover it completely; but when meat is stewed

stewed if it is cooked quicker than this. One of the great faults of English cooks is

boiling meat for table plunge it into boiling water, and then reduce the heat; but

goodness may be drawn from it. Corned beef or pork should also be placed in cold

water and heated gradually, so that some of the salt is drawn out. The fryingpan

meat if grilled or stewed would be tender and nutritious. There is often a prejudice

that makes it so delicious. Even in plain cooking there is no reason why the homely

Mix a teaspoonful of flour in a plate with some pepper and salt, slice up the meat

into pieces about three inches long by two broad, dip each piece lightly in the flour;

skin and slice up the kidneys, and cut the fat into small pieces. Roll a piece of

kidney and a piece of fat alternatively in the slices of meat, pile high in a dish, and

pour in a gill of water or stock. Make a short crust by directions given for short

pastry, wet the edge of the dish and line it with a strip of the paste, wet this strip

piece out of the centre of the pie, and ornament it with a few leaves cut out of

hour and a half. As soon as the crust has acquired some colour, cover with a piece

Make a dry crust, by directions given elsewhere, of the flour, suet, and butter.

Rub the pudding basin well with dripping, roll out the crust, take twothirds and line

the basin, well pressing the crust in. Slice up the meat and kidney, season with

pepper and salt, pile lightly in the basin, pour in half a gill of water, wet the edge of

the crust. Roll out the piece left, and cover the pudding securely. Dip a cloth in

boiling water, put it over the top, tie it round with string, and pin or tie the ends of

the cloth over the top. Plunge into plenty of boiling water, and boil for three hours.

Take it up, take off the cloth, turn it out of the basin on to a hot dish, and serve

Put the Macaroni into boiling water seasoned with salt, and boil for about twenty

minutes, or until quite soft, but not broken. When it is boiling, skin and cut the

kidneys in half, put them into a fryingpan with the butter, and toss them over the

fire for two or three minutes. Sprinkle with parsley, pepper, and salt, pour over

Bring it to the boil, then cover down by the side of the fire for five minutes. Place

carefully in the centre of a hot dish, boil up the gravy and pour over. Arrange the

Cut the steak into neat pieces, put it into hot water and bring to the boil, then

keep it below boiling point, but simmering very gently for two hours and a half. Mix

the cornflour with a tablespoonful of the vinegar from the walnuts and stir it in,

add salt to taste and a small pinch of pepper. Cut up three walnuts and put them

in, bring to simmering point again, and cook for at least another halfhour, then

Cut the steak into neat pieces, put the butter or dripping into a saucepan and fry

the steak quickly; take it out, shred the onion and put it in with the peppercorns,

cooking, boil the macaroni in weak stock or water for twentyfive minutes, and if

it is ready before it is wanted keep it in hot water. When the steak is done, dish it

neatly, flavour the gravy, boil it up and pour over. Cut the macaroni into short

Break the eggs into a basin, beat in the flour with a fork, then add gradually the

milk, season with a little pepper and salt. Rub some dripping on a baking dish, pour

in the batter, lay in the chops. Put into a moderate oven and bake for about one

Skin and slice up the tomatoes, put a layer at the bottom of a piedish, then lay in

the chops. Season with pepper and salt, and cover with the rest of the tomatoes;

mash up the potatoes until ver smooth. Warm the butter and milk and pour it over

Slice up the steak into pieces about three inches long and two broad. Mix the curry

from a very small splint of wood, just large enough to hold one or at most two of

the rolls; lay them in a saucepan, pour over the stock, bring to the boil and simmer

one hour and a half. While they are cooking, well wash the rice in cold water and let

it soak for half an hour, throw it into boiling water for three minutes and strain

cooking in this. Strain off and dry in the saucepan. Pile this on a dish and lay the

kabobs over it; boil up the gravy, season and flavour, and strain round the dish.

up the onion very finely. Mix together, season with some pepper and salt, and put

into a saucepan with the butter. Stir it about for five minutes, then pour on the

stock, bring to the boil, and simmer for one hour. Arrange neatly on a hot dish,

Make the sauce by directions given elsewhere, pour it into a pie dish, lay in some

quarter of an hour. Cut the slice of toast into sippets, lay them round, and serve.

vegetables; bring to the boil and stew very gently for two hours. Take it up and

it till quite cold. Then cut into neatshaped pieces, egg and bread crumb them; fry

dish and put the peas round. A breast of lamb is exceedingly nice done in this way;

it may be cut off before the quarter is roasted. The liquor in which the meat was

Cut the tripe into neat pieces, put it on in cold water and bring to the boil; let it

boil for five minutes, put it into cold water, and wash and scrape it well. Slice up

and season with pepper and salt. Pour this into a saucepan, slice in the onion, put

in the tripe, and let it boil up. Simmer gently for four hours, mix the cornflour

smoothly with a little water or stock, and pour it in; stir until it boils, dish the

tripe carefully, season and flavour the sauce to taste, and pour it over. Tripe is

more easily digested than any other animal food, and is therefore good for people

Prepare the tripe as in the preceding recipe. Mix the milk and water together, pour

it into a saucepan; lay in the tripe, slice in the onions, bring to the boil, and

let it simmer slowly for four hours. Season with pepper and salt, thicken with the

flour; after adding the flour let it cook for fifteen minutes, then dish the tripe

make it hot in the saucepan. Wipe the tomatoes and scrape out the centre, fill it

up with the mince, and stand in the oven for ten minutes. Have ready some rounds

Mince up the meat, or any remains of cold hash or mince will do. If there is any

cold macaroni it can be used; if not, boil some by directions given, and slice up the

tomatoes. Butter a dish in which it can be cooked and served. Place at the bottom

butter into a stewpan, and when it is dissolved mince up the pieces of onion very

finely and fry that for two minutes, then stir in the flour. Pour in the gravy and

stir until it boils; mix in the meat and let it get thoroughly hot. Turn it out on to a

plate, spread it over, and leave until quite cold. Make up into balls, cover with egg

and bread crumbs, and fry in hot fat; arrange in a circle and garnish with fried

frying batter by directions given elsewhere; stir in the minced onions and herbs,

and season with pepper and salt. Dip the slices of kidney into this and plunge into

very hot fat. Fry a good colour, pile high on a dish, garnish with fried parsley, and

Skin and chop the kidneys small, put into a saucepan with the butter, and cook for

thoroughly. Moisten with an egg well beaten, and if very dry a spoonful of gravy or

milk. Butter some small cups or moulds, fill them with this mixture, and bake for

pepper, salt, sugar, and gravy. Stir about until it becomes quite a pulp; then rub

through a sieve, season to taste, and let it get quite cold. Cut the beef into thin

slices and lay it in a saucepan, pour over the cold sauce and let it get hot through,

Trim some of the fat from the chops, put the butter into a saucepan, and when it

is melted stir in the flour. Mix well, and pour in the gravy; stir until it boils, lay in

the chops, and simmer very gently for one hour. Dish the chops in a circle, boil up

Choose a nice loin chop with an undercut. Rub a little butter in a soup plate, lay in

the chop, cover with another plate, and stand in a cool oven for an hour. Put on a

Mince the meat finely; if there is any cold rice in the larder it will do; if not, boil

some. Mix the rice and meat well together, season and flavour with a little nutmeg

cutlets, egg and bread crumb them, and fry in hot fat; dish in a circle and garnish

season nicely, and mix into a paste with half the egg. Roll into sausages, egg and

bread crumb, and fry in hot fat. Dish in a pyramid, and garnish with fried parsley.

Cut the beef up in small pieces, dip them in the vinegar, and lay in a jar. Slice in the

vegetables, add the peppercorns, and tie a paper over the top of the jar. Stand in

Cut up the steak into thin slices about three inches long and two broad, shape the

seasoning into small corks, roll a piece up in each slice of steak, thread them on a

vegetables, bring to the boil, simmer very gently for one hour and a half. Place the

olives on a hot dish and draw out the skewers, remove the fat, boil up the gravy,

macaroni and meat in in layers, and season nicely. Beat up the eggs and milk and

the basin carefully, and pour round it a little nice brown gravy or white sauce.

tongues will do for this dish. If corned, no salt is required; but if fresh ones are

used, put in a dessertspoonful of salt. Put in the vegetables and peppercorns and

hour; dish carefully, boil up the sauce and pour over. Garnish with chopped parsley.

salt, nutmeg, or parsley. Beat up the egg, mix it with the gravy, and pour over the

the mince. Cover over with a plate and bake for an hour, then turn on to a hot dish

Cut the steak into neat pieces and fry very quickly in the butter; take it out, put

in the flour, and when quite smooth pour on the gravy and stir until it boils. Put

back the steak, and simmer very gently for three hours. Cut the carrot and turnip

Mince the meat finely or put it through the sausage machine, season with parsley,

pepper, and salt; put the butter into a saucepan, and when it is melted stir in the

flour and the stock. Stir until it boils, then add the meat and mix thoroughly. Turn

on to a plate to cool. When cold make up into pieces about the size of a cork. Take

some very thin rashers of fat bacon and cut into strips about half an inch wide by

two inches long. Roll the meat in this, dip in frying batter, and fry in very hot fat;

drain for a few minutes on kitchen paper, pile high on a dish, garnish with fried

Mince the lean of the meat very small with about a quarter of a pound of the suet

into fine crumbs, then stir in the meat and let it get quite cold. Roll into small balls

with a little flour. Put three ounces of dripping into a frying pan, and when very

brown it all over; then lay the ham and vegetables round it, pour in the stock, and

bring it to the boil. Cover down closely, and stand the saucepan in a moderate oven

where it will cook slowly. If the braising is being done by a coal fire the lid of the

stewpan may be reversed and some hot coals placed in it; these will want renewing

f rom time to time. In any case cook very slowly, then dish the meat, strain the

gravy, remove the fat carefully, and boil to a sort of half glaze; pour round the

Bind the beef with tapes to keep it a good shape. If it is corned, put it on in cold

water; if fresh, in hot stock or water, and bring to the boil, then skim carefully

hours, then take it up. Take off the tapes, slip out the bones, and put it into a

dish; place a piece of board on the top and some heavy weights and leave till the

next day, then turn out and serve with a salad. If fresh meat is used for this dish

from the meat and boiled without the lid very quickly for an hour. Then strain off

and stand away till the next day; it should then be in a strong jelly. This may be cut

and fry that too. Sprinkle with the curry powder and flour, pour in the stock or

water and stir until it boils, then put back the chops, bring to the boil, and simmer

very gently for three hours. Dish carefully, boil up the gravy, and if it is not thick

enough boil quickly without the lid for some minutes. Season with salt and lemon

juice and pour over the chops. Boil the rice by directions given elsewhere; rinse out

a small mould or cup in cold water, press the rice into it, and turn out. Serve this

Have the foot well chopped up, put it on in cold water, bring it to the boil. Let it

stewpan with the beef cut into pieces. Cover with cold water and bring to the boil,

put in the spices tied in a piece of muslin, and let it simmer very gently for three

about five hours. Take up the foot, take out all the bones, and cut into pieces; put

salt, remove the fat, boil up, and serve. This dish is always better for being made

Take a thick steak and split it open, cut it into strips five inches wide by three

long. Cut some very thin bread and butter the same size seasoned with pepper and

salt, lay it on the steak and roll it up, thread on a skewer and dust with flour. Put

butter as the rolls were fried in. Shake in a teaspoonful of flour and pour in the

gravy; stir until it boils, then pour over the rolls. Put in the celery and cloves, and

simmer very gently for two hours; take up the rolls on a hot dish and slip off the

cold ones they will do as well); lay the steak flat and spread the potatoes over it.

Chop the onion very fine and powder the sage, and sprinkle over the potatoes; roll

up and tie with a tape or string. Rub some dripping over a baking sheet, put in the

steak, and plenty of dripping on the top. Put into a moderate oven and bake for an

hour, basting frequently. Put on to a hot dish, take off the tapes, and pour round

Wash and slice up the liver, and dip in the flour; fry very lightly and quickly in the

butter and lay in a saucepan. Slice up the carrot and fry in the same butter. Stir

in the gravy, boil up, and pour over the liver; simmer very gently for one hour,

then dish carefully. Season the gravy with salt, pepper, and lemon juice; boil up and

Put the sweetbreads in cold water, bring to the boil, strain away the water, scrape

flour the sweetbreads; dry very lightly and quickly, take them out. Slice up and fry

the onion and carrot, stir in the flour and gravy, and bring to the boil. Lay in the

season and flavour the gravy, remove the fat, boil up and pour round them. Serve

Trim away the fat from the fillet and cut it into very small thin slices, and cut the

bacon also into thin slices, but smaller. Spread the side of the beef with mustard

and pepper, cover with bacon, and roll up as lightly as possible. When all are rolled

beat up an egg, mix it with a spoonful of water, brush over the rolls; cover them

with crumbs and thread on a small skewer. Put the dripping into a fryingpan, and

when quite hot lay in the rolls and fry until a good colour. Place on a hot dish and

round the roulades. Should there be any brown sauce in the larder it is nicer than

Put the meat into a saucepan with the rind of the lemon cut very thinly, pour in

the stock and simmer very gently for three hours; if the bacon is not cooked put

it in and stew it for the last halfhour, then take up the meat and ham, cut it off

the lid. Boil the eggs hard and cut them in slices and arrange in a plain mould or

flavour the gravy, add the lemon juice, and pour it over the meat. Set aside until

some grated lemon peel, parsley and sweet herbs, pepper and salt. Make one gill of

melted butter by recipe given elsewhere, stir in the meat and let it simmer for a

few minutes; cut some slices of bread about an inch and a half thick, stamp them

beaten up, and cover them with fine crumbs. Fry in hot fat till a good colour, drain

away the fat from them on kitchen paper. Fill these with the mince, garnish with

Put the mustard, made with vinegar instead of water, into a basin; add gradually

them in a pie dish, pour over the mixture, cover with a plate, and stand in a hot

Wash and joint up the rabbits and cut the pork into slices; lay some of the pork

in layers until all the meat is in, then put in the onion, sliced up, the fagot of

cook for two hours. Take up the meat and arrange nicely on a hot dish, strain the

gravy into a saucepan, thicken with the flour, and when it boils stir in the jelly.

Cut some thin slices of beef and lay them in a saucepan or basin, mix the melted

butter sauce, gravy, jelly, and ketchup together, and pour over them. Cover down

closely and stand the saucepan in a larger one, half full of boiling water, and steam

Trim off the cutlets, lay them in a tin dish, cover with buttered paper, and bake in

while cooking. Peel the onions, put them into cold water, bring to the boil, throw

then strain all the water away, put in the butter, let it get quite hot, then cover

down and finish cooking the onions in this, but do not brown them. Stir in the flour

and pour over the milk, stir until it boils, let it boil two or three minutes, then rub

through a sieve; season with salt, pepper, and lemon juice. Dish the cutlets in a

circle, pour away some of the fat, and rinse the tin with a spoonful of gravy. Pour

good brown, then add half the gravy, and stir until a sort of half glaze. Rub the

tomatoes through a sieve and stir them in with the rest of the gravy, bring to the

boil. Cut the meat into strips and put it in with a little salt and pepper, and simmer

very gently for about three hours. While it is cooking put the milk on to boil, mix

the semolina with a little cold milk, and stir it in; cook it until the spoon will come

out quite clean, then turn it on to a dish till cold. Cut it into squares and lay some

in a deep dish, sprinkle with grated cheese, then more semolina and more cheese.

Pour over this some of the gravy in which the meat is cooking, and put it in the

oven to get hot. Dish up the meat and pour the sauce over it. Send the two dishes

Put the butter into a saucepan, and when it is hot put in the flour; mix together

smoothly, pour in the water of stock, and stir until it boils. Joint up a mutton or

ham bone and lay it in; if it is mutton, add a little salt. Bring it to the boil, put in

the onion whole stuck with two cloves, and simmer for half an hour or longer; then

peel the potatoes, cut them in half and put them in, and cook until they are soft.

sauce over. This is a very homely dish, but a very savoury and economical one. A

little meat goes a long way, and it is nourishing, too, as all the goodness of the

cook well, but do not brown. Boil the onion, herbs, and peppercorns in the milk,

strain them out, pour the milk over the butter and flour, and stir till it boils. Cut

the meat into cutlets, lay them in and simmer very gently till the meat is tender,

then take it up and arrange nicely on a dish. Beat up an egg with a drop or two of

lemon juice and a spoonful of gravy or milk. Pour into the sauce in which the meat

was cooked, and stir briskly over the fire until it thickens; strain over the meat,

A few very small fat rashers of bacon rolled up and fried are a great improvement

tomatoes; place on a buttered tin, and bake in the oven for ten minutes. Put each

Peel and slice the potatoes, put them in water seasoned with salt, and boil for five

seasoned with salt, and bring to a boil. Then simmer very gently for about twenty

minutes; test them with a fork, and if soft, strain off the water and toss them in

a saucepan over the fire until they are dry. Some potatoes will not bear boiling as

long as this, but begin to break soon after they boil up. When this is the case, pour

off nearly all the water, leaving only one inch at the bottom of the saucepan. Cook

hour and a half, according to the quantity of water over which they are cooking.

New potatoes may be either scraped while raw, or peeled after boiling; they are a

better flavour if cooked in their skins. In either case they should be well washed in

cold water, plunged into boiling water seasoned with salt and a sprig of mint, and

boiled quickly until a fork will go through easily; then strain off the water, dry, and

The outer leaves of the cabbage should be removed, then cut it into quarters and

halfanhour. Then put it into a colander and shake all the water from it. Place on

the fire a large saucepan of water, and when it boils, put in two teaspoonsful of

salt and a quarter of a teaspoonful of carbonate of soda. Put in the cabbage and

cover down till it boils up; then remove the lid and boil very quickly, pressing it

carefully press all the water from it. Slip into a vegetable dish and cut into neat

Shell the peas and wash them well; just cover them with cold water, season it with

a little salt, sugar, and mint. Bring quickly to the boil and cook for about twenty

Slice up the beans and wash in cold water, put them into plenty of boiling water,

quickly without the lid for about ten minutes or a quarter of an hour. When soft,

Soak the cauliflowers in plenty of salt and water, with the flower downwards, then

slice and strain in a colander. Turn carefully into a vegetable dish, and serve with

boiling water nicely seasoned with salt, and boil gently for about fifteen minutes.

Take up with a slice and strain in a colander, place in a hot dish, and pour over the

Wash the beetroots, but do not cut them; put them in cold water, and boil till they

feel soft if pressed the time depends upon the size; then take them up, peel and

slice them. Make the sauce by directions given elsewhere. Put in the beetroot and

simmer for about half an hour; dish the beets and pour the sauce over. It should

Boil the cabbage as directed, and squeeze very dry; melt the butter in a saucepan,

season with pepper, salt, and a drop or two of lemon juice. Put in the cabbage and

cook in the butter for ten minutes, stirring frequently; arrange neatly in a hot

Mince the onion and apple finely, and fry in the batter till a good colour; sprinkle

over it the curry power and flour, and mix well. Pour in the milk and stir until it

boils; slice the tomatoes and put them in and simmer very gently for half an hour.

Season with salt, dish carefully and serve either in a border of rice, or with rice

cauliflowers, very young vegetables are the best, and if there are any cold ones in

cauliflowers, and, if they are not been boiled before, boil them in water seasoned

with a little salt and sugar, for ten minutes, and strain off the water. Put one

ounce or more of butter into a saucepan according to the quantity of vegetables,

and when hot stir in half an ounce of flour, and the same of curry powder. Pour in

half a pint of milk and stir till it boils. Then put in the vegetables and simmer

soft, and all the liquor absorbed. Pile in a hot dish and serve with boiled rice.

onions and fry in the butter, but do not let them brown. Stir in the flour and the

milk and bring to the boil, and when it has boiled a few minutes stir in gradually the

Peel the turnips and cut them into pieces like the quarter of an orange; put them

into a small stewpan with the butter, sprinkle over them the sugar and salt, and

simmer till soft but not broken. Dish the turnips, season the gravy with salt and a

salt and sugar, and boil for ten minutes. Strain off the water. Put the butter into

a small saucepan, and when it is hot stir in the parsley and a few drops of lemon

juice. Toss the carrots in this until they are thoroughly hot, then cover down and

Scrape and cut up the parsnips (or cold ones will do). If raw, boil them in water

seasoned with salt for threequarters of an hour. Make the butter, flour, and milk

into a sauce by directions given, and season nicely. Stir in the parsley, put in the

Cold boiled parsnips make a delicious breakfast dish if sliced up and fried either in

saucepan, and, when melted, season with pepper and salt; put in the potatoes and

turn them about till hot through. Drop in the egg and mix into a paste, turn on to a

plate to cool, and roll into balls. Beat up an egg and brush over the balls, cover well

with crumbs, and fry in hot fat. The yolks of eggs will do for this dish if the whites

Soak the haricots over night, if possible; if not, at least for two or three hours.

Put them on in plenty of cold water seasoned with salt and an onion, and boil them

steadily for three hours. Strain the water off, put them into a vegetable dish, and

of all pulse foods, and are a particularly good food for people who work in the open

air. They are very nice eaten alone or served with meat. They make an exceedingly

Peel and slice up the potatoes and tomatoes; lay them alternatively in a pie dish

Boil the cauliflowers and make the sauce by directions given elsewhere. Dish the

cauliflowers carefully and pour over them the sauce, leaving just the centre of the

Take only the white and best part of celery for this dish, pull it to pieces, wash

well in salt and water, and tie in a bundle. Put it into boiling water seasoned with

salt, and boil for about half an hour, or until the fork will go through easily.

Take half a pint of the water in which it was boiled and mix it with the milk; make a

sauce with this and the butter and flour by directions given for sauces. Dish the

from, or subject to, rheumatism or gout. Celery is also very nice stewed in broth

Wash the lettuces very thoroughly and lay them in salt and water for half an hour.

of lemon juice; stir them about and cook for about five minutes. Turn into a hot

Peel the onions, put them on in cold water, and bring to the boil. Strain the water

off, butter a baking dish, put in the onions, pour in the water, cover with a plate,

over them, either a nice gravy thickened with a little butter and flour, or some

Peel some turnips and scoop out the centre; boil them in salt and water till soft,

peas, carrots, and parsnips, make them hot; if not, cut some into small pieces and

boil separately. Stir them into any cold sauce that may be left, or toss them in a

little butter. Fill the turnip cups with these, arranging them on a dish, alternately

recipe given elsewhere, and make it hot in a saucepan. Remove the seeds from the

round with tape. Have ready a fish kettle full of boiling water seasoned with salt;

dripping into a frying pan, and when very hot put in the potatoes and fry them a

season with lemon juice, parsley, pepper, and salt. Pour this over the potatoes,

pieces, season with pepper and salt. Put a small piece of butter into a frying pan;

put in the vegetables and fry them until they are thoroughly hot through and well

with some beef dripping, and bake till soft and rather brown. Thicken a little gravy

with some flour, and season and flavour it nicely; dish the marrow and pour this

saucepan with the stock and stew very gently till soft; take them up and put on to

a hot dish. Put the butter into a saucepan, and when it is dissolved stir in the

flour, mix well, and strain in the stock. Stir until it boils. Season with some pepper,

Make the sauce by recipe given elsewhere, flavour nicely with lemon juice, pepper,

Wash the lentils well in cold water, cover them with cold water seasoned with salt,

and boil for one hour and a half. Strain all the water off, put them into a hot dish

Any cold lentils left make a very nice breakfast dish if they are curried. If there

put them into that and simmer for half an hour; serve with boiled rice. If there is

Peel and cut the onions into dice, put them into a fryingpan with the butter, and

fry, but do not let them brown; sprinkle in the flour, pour in the milk, and stir until

it boils. Season with salt, pepper, and vinegar. Boil the beetroot carefully, and

when cold, peel and slice up. Put it into the sauce and simmer for half an hour.

Make the mashed potatoes into a border on a hot dish, and put the beetroot in the

cauliflower into a dish in which it can be served, put half the cheese into the white

sauce, season with pepper and salt, make it hot and pour over. Sprinkle the rest

of the cheese on the top, and put into the oven till quite brown; it is then ready to

parsley, pepper, salt, and a few drops of lemon juice; cover down and cook gently

salt, and milk. Stir up the potatoes, pour into a buttered piedish, and bake for

Wash and scrub the potatoes, and bake them in the oven till quite done. Cut them

directions given for mince, and nearly fill the potato skins with this. Put some of

the potato on top, making it look as rough and rocky as possible. Stand in the oven

carefully in a small clean fryingpan, and as the fat runs from it, pour it on the

beans. Mash them up with this and a little pepper and salt, and put them into a hot

into a saucepan, cover with cold water; add one gill of milk and some salt. Bring to

the boil and cook slowly for about an hour. Take half a pint of the liquor in which

them into a large saucepan, with a very little water seasoned with salt and a pinch

of carbonate of soda; keep pressing them down into the water and boil till soft.

Turn into a colander and squeeze very dry, put into a saucepan with one ounce of

butter, pepper, salt, and a few drops of lemon juice. Stir about till thoroughly hot

Peel the bananas and put them in boiling water to which a few drops of lemon juice

directions already given, flavour with lemon juice, pepper, and salt. Strain all the

To fry potatoes successfully, two things must be carefully attended to. First of

all dry the potatoes thoroughly, and then have very hot fat. Peel the potatoes and

basket, and plunge into the fat. Fry quickly, and directly they are brown enough

they are done. Throw them on to some kitchen paper to drain off the fat. Pile high

Boil the cabbage by directions given, strain away the water and press it very dry.

Put the butter into a saucepan, and when it is dissolved, chop up the cabbage and

Scrub the potatoes and bake them in the oven. Cut off the end, scoop out all the

meal; grate up some dry pieces of cheese, beat it into the potatoes with the yolk

of the egg, and some seasoning. Whip the white till stiff and stir lightly in; fill the

the frying batter by directions given. Dip the pieces of cauliflower into it, and put

into very hot fat. Fry a good colour and pile high on a dish. Garnish with fried

Slice up the tomatoes, mix a spoonful of flour with some pepper and salt; dip in

the slices and fry quickly, pile on a dish. Pour the milk into the pan in which they

were fried, stir until it boils, and pour over. Garnish with fried bread and serve

Peel and chop up the apple and onion. Put the butter or dripping into a saucepan,

sprinkle over the curry powder and the flour. Pour over the gravy and stir until it

boils. Simmer for half an hour, then strain, flavour with lemon juice and salt, boil

up, and it is ready. If this sauce is for fish, use milk or fish stock instead of

Put the butter into a small saucepan, and when it is melted stir in the flour, and

mix smoothly; pour in the milk and stir until it boils. Take the saucepan from the

Peel the onions, put them into cold water, and let them boil for a minute. Strain

away the water, cover again with cold water, boil up and cook till soft; take out

the water, chop small. Put the butter and milk into a saucepan, and when it boils

Make the toast and lay it in a dish. Make the sauce by directions given for white

sauce. Season with pepper and salt, and pour over it; serve hot. If a richer dish is

for five minutes. Mix the cornflour with a little cold water and pour it in; stir till it

boils up. Strain the jam out, and it is ready to serve; a few drops of cochineal

When the joint is served pour the dripping into a basin and stand away till cold;

excellent addition to hash or mince. Cut the dripping into small pieces and pour

over it sufficient boiling water to dissolve it. Stir it well and leave till it is a solid

cake of fat. Cut it off the water, scrape the impurities from the bottom, and it

excellent shortening for pies and cakes. Cut it into small pieces and put it into an

old saucepan with about one quart of water. Boil until all the water is evaporated;

the fat will then begin to boil. Strain this melted fat into a basin, and continue to

do so until all the fat is extracted. This is a good substitute for butter and lard.

Put half the butter into a small saucepan, and when it is dissolved stir in the flour

saucepan from the fire, stir in the rest of the butter in small pieces, and some

Wash the rice well in two or three waters; have a large saucepan on the fire full of

boiling water seasoned with salt. Throw in the rice and boil very quickly for five or

six minutes. Take up a grain, and if it feels quite soft it is done; if not, boil

separate the grains. If required immediately, put it back in the saucepan and toss

over the fire till dry. If not, spread it on a sieve or dish and dry on the stove,

The top or flower of parsley only should be used for frying. Pick it carefully and

plunge into the fat when the fish, or whatever it is to be served with, has been

fried; leave it in not more than one minute. Turn it on to some kitchen paper and

Sift the flour into a basin, pour over it the oil, then the water, and beat into a

white of the egg to a stiff froth, and stir it in, and it is ready to use. This batter

If the tomatoes are ripe they need not be cooked; but if at all hard, boil them for

five minutes. Then slice up and rub through a sieve. Put the butter into a small

saucepan, and when it is dissolved stir in the flour and sugar; then pour in the

tomato juice and stir until it boils; season with salt to taste. This is tomato sauce

pure and simple; but it is often made with half stock and half tomato juice; it is

suitable for chops, steaks, c If made thicker it is called a pure'e, and is served

Put the butter into a small saucepan, and when it is dissolved put in the flour; mix

well and pour on the cold milk and stir till it boils. Let it boil for two minutes and it

Brown gravy can be made from any kind of stock. If the stock is good, put it into a

saucepan and thicken every pint with 1 oz of flour. If the stock is not very good,

boil some vegetables in it with any trimmings of meat and poultry available, and

thicken with butter and flour; a few drops of lemon juice will bring up the flavour.

It should be of a rich brown colour. It can be coloured with a little sugar burnt in a

spoon, or with a few drops of caramel, a recipe for which will be found elsewhere.

Put the butter into a saucepan, and when it is quite hot, slice up the vegetables

and put them in with the peppercorns, and fry a good colour. Stir in the flour and

brown that too, then pour in the stock and stir till it boils. Cover down and let it

half a pint of water and stir till it boils; strain into a bottle. It will keep good

herbs very finely and stir them in, then the grated rind of half a lemon, and the

pepper and salt; drop in the egg and bind into a paste, and it is ready to use. This

Cut up some very stale bread and bake it in the oven till a nice colour. Put these

bottle for use. They are excellent for many savoury dishes, and it is good way of

cauliflower, and mix in the peas and beans; put all into a salad bowl. Take oil and

vinegar in the proportion of one of oil to two of vinegar, blend them together and

bananas and oranges and sugar, until all the materials are used up. Cover and let it

glass dish in layers, with plenty of sugar between each layer. Stand in a cool place

parsley. Mix the oil and vinegar together in the proportion of two of oil to one of

Boil some rice, or take any cold rice that may be left, put it into a saucepan with

the stock, and simmer till the stock is absorbed. Grate up some dry, hard pieces

Put the macaroni into boiling salt and water, and boil for half an hour or until soft;

strain off the water and cut into pieces about 1 1/2 inch long. Make the sauce by

directions given elsewhere. Mix in half the cheese and some pepper and salt. Take

a dish in which it can be served, and lay at the bottom some macaroni; then some

sauce and a little of the dry cheese. Continue in this way till all the materials are

used up, leaving plenty of dry cheese for the top. Put in the oven for five or ten

them with a wooden spoon, dropping in the oil very slowly. The sauce must be kept

thick, and the oil added very slowly. When it is quite thick and smooth, pour in the

vinegar slowly, and it is ready for use. This is considered the finest of all salad

dressings. If made some time before it is required for table, it must be kept cool.

It ought to stand in ice, and the vinegar should be added just before serving. It

Salads form such a pleasant item in the menu, particularly during the hot season,

that they should be regarded as a daily dish. There are no scraps of fish, poultry,

meat, or cold boiled vegetables, but what can be turned to account in this way. If

these are utilised, a great variety can be obtained at a very trifling cost; in fact

away. Cold cauliflowers, beans, peas, and potatoes are particularly nice in salads.

Make a salad dressing the same as that given for lettuce salad; flake up the fish

with the dressing. Put a layer of lettuce at the bottom of the bowl, then one of

fish and dressing. Do this alternatively, leaving plenty of lettuce for the top;

Boil the eggs hard; take the yolk of one and put it into a basin and work it quite

vinegar. Mix it all very thoroughly. Cut off the outside leaves of the lettuce, and

pull it all to pieces, wash in cold water and dry thoroughly in a cloth. Break into

small pieces and put into a salad bowl, pour over the dressing. Garnish with the

into slices and placed round. A few of the best pieces of lettuce should be laid

Boil both the macaroni and the beetroot by directions given elsewhere. When quite

inches long; arrange them in alternate layers on a dish. Blend the oil and vinegar

Pick the prawns, leaving the skin on a few fine ones for a garnish. Peel and slice up

Take some slices of cold corned beef, dip them in a salad dressing, and lay them in

a dish with alternate layers of lettuce leaves. Garnish with hard boiled eggs cut in

Put the eggs into boiling water and boil fifteen minutes. Plunge into cold water till

and lettuce and cut into pieces. Put a layer of this at the bottom of the bowl, then

one of eggs dipped in the dressing, then another of lettuce and egg until all are

used up, leaving plenty of lettuce for the top. Garnish with sprigs of watercress

Pull the celery to pieces, wash it, and cut into small pieces; shred up some lettuce

and lay it at the bottom the dish. Stir the celery into the dressing and lay it on the

when it boils put in the oysters and cook for five minutes; let them get cold in the

Strain the liquor from the oysters and mix a little with the dressing, stir in the

excellent salad either with just a simple dressing of oil and vinegar and a lettuce,

or with a mayonnaise or salad dressing. Follow the directions for fish salad, but do

Wash the herring in cold water and soak it in milk for an hour; cut it open and take

out the bone and slice up both the fish and the meat. Arrange in a bowl, chop the

vinegar; pour this, when well mixed, over the fish and meat, and cover with slices

green pickles from a bottle of pickles, a little chopped parsley, and some small

Boil the macaroni, or use any cold that may be in the larder. Cut it into pieces

about three inches long, cut the cheese into very thin slices, and cut the celery

into very small pieces. Lay these alternately in a bowl with some shredded lettuce.

Make a dressing of the mustard, oil, and vinegar, and pour it over. Garnish with a

milk over the bread, cover it down till quite soft, then beat it with a fork; grate up

the cheese and beat it in with the yolk of an egg and some pepper and salt. Beat

the white of the egg to a stiff froth and stir it lightly in, pour into a buttered

potatoes. Break up half a lettuce. Arrange these neatly in a bowl and pour over a

smooth. Work in gradually the curry powder, oil, and vinegar. Blend well, and it is

Trim off the crust and cut the bread into dice, put into a bowl and pour over the

oil. Let it stand till all the oil is absorbed; then mince up the onion, cauliflower,

the ice until quite cold. Cut them up the same as an orange; peel and cut up the

cucumber into very thin slices and mince up the onion. Sprinkle these with pepper

and salt, pour over the oil and vinegar. Shred up the lettuce and lay on the top, it

Boil the cauliflower by directions given elsewhere and branch it carefully. Boil the

eggs hard, separate the whites from the yolks; chop the whites small and cut the

yolks in slices. Shred up the lettuce in a bowl and put the branches of cauliflower

all round it, and the slices of yolk of egg outside as a border. Pour on the salad

dressing and put the white of egg in little heaps on the lettuce. It is then ready to

dressing. Slice up the cold carrots and lay them on top; garnish with the chopped

Calves' feet that have been boiled down for jelly make a good salad. They must, of

course, be boiled very thoroughly for at least eight hours. Strain off the stock,

remove the bones, and put the meat on one side till quite cold. Then cut up into

neat pieces and put into a salad bowl. Pour over a salad dressing or just oil and

This is a good dressing when mayonnaise is not liked. It is made in the same way as

mayonnaise, using hard boiled eggs (yolks) instead of raw ones. Put the yolks into

has been poured off, press the meat into a basin with about a gill of jelly stock,

and some salt and pepper. When cold and firm, cut it into neat pieces and lay in a

Cut the lamb into small pieces and lay it in a bowl. Cut the tomato into thin slices

and lay it over, then the capers chopped small. Pour over the dressing, break up

the lemon juice, sugar, and a spoonful of water, and stew till soft but not broken.

Place them in a glass dish. Wash the tapioca in cold water, put it in a saucepan,

pour over it 1 1/4 pints of water, and stir till it boils. Cook it till quite clear,

Sift the flour into a basin, rub in the dripping very lightly until it is quite fine, mix

into a very stiff dough with the water, turn on to a floured board, and knead into a

Sift the flour into a basin, rub the butter lightly in, until it is fine as bread crumbs;

make a well in the centre, and strain the lemon juice. Mix into a stiff paste with

the water, knead for a few minutes until it is quite smooth, it is then ready for

use. A crust may be made with lard just in the same way; this is much lighter of

Sift the flour into a basin, cut about one ounce of the lard into it with a knife, then

butter. Roll it out evenly, and lay on it small pieces of the butter and lard, sprinkle

with flour and roll into three; roll out again and proceed as before. It is ready for

use at once if required, but it is much improved by standing in a cool place for an

pies, a piece of buttered paper should be laid over the top as soon as it has rise,

Sift the flour into a basin, and make it into a firm paste with the water. Free the

and put half over it in very tiny pieces; sprinkle with flour and fold into three.

Double the ends over till they meet, roll out again, and put on the rest of the suet

and proceed as before. It is then ready for use, but is much improved by standing

for an hour in a cold place. This is a very wholesome pastry, and particularly nice

for meat pies. If it is properly made, it ought to rise like the best puff pastry; it is

Sift the flour into a basin; prepare the suet by cutting it into very thin slices and

then shredding it up very fine indeed; mix it in with the flour. Stir in the water until

it is a firm consistency, but do not use too much water, or the paste will be tough.

and knead for a few minutes. It is then ready for use; this crust is suitable for all

kinds of boiled puddings, such as meat, apple, jam, c. These puddings require to

be boiled for a very long time. They must always be plunged into boiling water, and

sieve, and stir them in. Shred the suet finely and mix in thoroughly with a knife;

water. Put the pudding into the centre, and tie up tightly. Plunge into boiling water

and boil steadily for two hours; turn out of the cloth carefully into a hot dish, and

serve. This pudding is delicious with roast meat, or it may be served as a sweet;

the milk in the saucepan nearly boils stir this in and stir until it boils. Then take

off the fire and beat in the sugar, flavouring, and the yolks of the eggs. Whisk the

whites to a stiff froth and stir them lightly in, pour into a buttered piedish, and

taste. Roll our some flaky pastry and line some patty pans with it; fill them with

rice or crusts of bread, and bake for about ten minutes. Then take out the rice or

crusts and fill with the cheese cake mixture. Finish baking, and stand on a sieve till

Choose ripe bananas, peel and slice them up, and lay them in a glass dish, sprinkle

with sugar. Make a custard with the milk and yolks of the eggs by directions for

Let it stand till quite cold, then whip the whites to a very stiff froth and heap

saucepan, and when it is boiling pour it over the eggs, stirring all the time. Strain

back into the saucepan and whist well till it comes to boiling point; draw away from

the fire, but continue whisking for a few minutes. Then pour into a basin, sweeten

Put the milk into a saucepan to boil, mix the cornflour with a spoonful of cold milk,

and when the milk in the saucepan is nearly boiling, stir it in and continue stirring

till it boils. Let it boil two or three minutes, then draw the saucepan away from the

fire, beat in the yolk of the egg and flavouring. Put back on the fire and bring to

Rub the butter into the flour, stir in the sugar, carbonate of soda, and cream of

tartar; mix into a stiff dough with the egg and flavouring. Roll into small balls

Mix the flour, cornflour, and baking powder together, beat the butter and sugar to

a cream, beat in the egg, flavouring, and milk, then the flour, c, and continue to

beat for five minutes. Butter some small bun tins, half fill them with the mixture,

put into a moderate oven and bake for about twenty minutes; stand on a sieve till

buns into a piedish, pour over the custard, cover and leave for an hour. Then put

Take a piece of very stale bread and cut it into small squares, bake it in the oven

till a good colour. Break the eggs into a piedish, beat in the sugar and grated rind

of the lemon, pour in one pint of milk, and mix well. Drop in the rusks and put into

a cool oven and bake till firm; then spread on the top a layer of jam. Put half a pint

of milk into a saucepan, and when it nearly boils, stir in the cornflour which has

been mixed with a little lemon peel and sugar, and pour it on top of the pudding.

Soak the bread in cold water till quite soft, put it into a cloth and squeeze all the

water out of it; turn into a basin and beat it smooth with a spoon. Then beat in the

dish and bake till quite firm, then take from the oven and spread the jam on the

top. Whip the whites to a stiff froth and spread over the jam; put back in the oven

for a few minutes till brown, then sprinkle with sugar and serve either hot or cold.

Put the flour into a basin; stone the raisins and cut them in half, mix in the sugar

and carbonate of soda. Dissolve the dripping in the water, pour in and make into a

dough; leave it to stand all night. Dip a cloth in boiling water and tie the pudding up

tightly. Plunge into plenty of boiling water, and keep it boiling steadily for three

hours; turn into a hot dish. A little custard sauce served with this pudding is a

Mix the flour, sugar, and bread crumbs together; stir in the marmalade. Make the

pour this over the dry ingredients, beat for a few minutes; turn into a buttered

basin. Tie over it a cloth, plunge into boiling water, and boil one hour. Serve either

hot or cold. A spoonful of marmalade placed on the top of this pudding just before

powder together and stir them lightly in. Pour into a wellbuttered tin and bake in a

quick oven for eight or ten minutes. Turn on to a damp cloth and roll up directly;

warm the jam in a saucepan while the roll is cooking, and if it is very stiff mix in a

spoonful of water. Take the roll out of the cloth and lay flat on a piece of sugared

Sift the flour into a basin and rub in the dripping; carefully stir in the sugar, baking

rubbed with dripping, stand on a baking sheet and place in a moderate oven. Bake

for one hour and a half or longer, test it by running a skewer right through the

centre; if it comes out clean the cake is done. Turn it out of the tine carefully and

Rub the butter into the flour, stir in the baking powder, and make into a very light

dough with the milk; turn on to a floured board, knead for a few minutes, roll out

about half an inch thick. Cut into shapes, put on to a floured tin, and bake in a

Mix the flour, baking powder, and salt together, mix into a very light dough with

the milk, adding a little more milk if necessary; turn on to a floured board and

knead till smooth, roll out half an inch thick. Cut into small rounds and bake for

Rub the dripping into the flour; stir in the sugar, cream of tartar, and soda. Mix

into a very light dough with the milk, turn on to a floured board; divide into two

parts. Flatten these out into two cakes, divide each one into four pieces, brush

Mash up the potatoes very smoothly, beat in the sugar and a flavouring of nutmeg

paste; form into small round cakes. Fry in very hot fat till brown; pile high on a

dish, sprinkle with sugar and serve. One egg is sufficient for about 1 lb., potatoes.

round cutter. Make frying batter by directions given elsewhere, and flavour with

lemon juice. Dip in the pieces of apple, plunge into plenty of hot fat, and fry till a

good colour. Drain on kitchen paper, pile high on a dish, and sprinkle well with

Put the yolks of the eggs into a basin and beat in half the sugar, put the whites on

to a plate with a little sugar, and whip till stiff; mix with the yolks. Put the butter

into a small fryingpan, and when it is dissolved pour in the mixture; leave over the

fire for about three minutes. Then hold the pan in front of the fire for a minute or

two to brown the top. Put the jam on to a hot plate, slip the omelet on the top;

Wash the tapioca well in cold water, strain off the water, and put it into a pie dish.

Chop the suet very finely and mix it in with the sugar; flavour with grated lemon

for two hours. Whip the whites of the eggs to a very stiff froth, flavour the same

as the pudding, spread these on top, sprinkle with sugar, and stand in the oven till

Put the milk on the fire to boil, and when boiling stir in the flour quickly; it should

be rather lumpy. Pour it into a dish, melt the butter and sugar, and pour it in the

middle of the pudding. A little flavouring of grated lemon peel may be put into the

Mix the flour and baking powder together, beat the egg till very light, whisk in the

sugar, and stir in the flour. Pour into a buttered tin, and bake five minutes; turn

Put the milk into a saucepan, mix the flour with a little cold milk; and when the milk

in the saucepan is nearly boiling, stir it in, and let it boil up. Pour into a basin and

beat in the yolks of the eggs and the sugar; turn into a pie dish and bake till firm.

Spread a spoonful of jam on the top; whip the whites of the eggs to a stiff froth

and spread them over, sprinkle with sugar, and put back in the oven to set. Serve

Beat the yolk and white of egg separately; beat the flour and milk together, and

mix in the sugar and yolk of egg. Stir in the white, butter a saucer, put the jam at

the bottom. Pour in the mixture, bake in the oven for five minutes, sprinkle with

Wash the rice well, strain off the water and put it into a piedish. Mix in the sugar

hour. Put it into a very slow oven, and bake till firm. This is a very delicious

Rub the butter into the flour, sprinkle in the salt, and make into a dough with the

milk; knead till smooth, roll out very thin. Cut into small rounds, prick well with a

fork, put on to a floured tin and bake for about ten minutes. They should not get

Rub the dripping and the flour together; clean and stir in the currants and sugar.

Stir in the soda and mix into a dough with the milk, beat for a few minutes. Pour

into a tin which has been well rubbed with dripping, bake in a moderate oven for

Mix the meal and flour together, rub in the butter or lard and the sugar; mix into a

dry paste with water, knead till smooth. Roll out very thin, cut into rounds, and

Sift the flour, chop the suet finely, and mix together. Stir in the sugar and the

grated rind of the lemons, beat up the egg, add the juice of one lemon, and mix the

pudding into a dough with this, and a little water if required. Dip a cloth in boiling

water, tie the pudding in it; plunge into boiling water and boil two hours. Take out

Squeeze the juice of the other lemon into a small saucepan, stir in some sugar and

Put the eggs into a basin, beat in the flour, and then the milk, pour into a battered

Rub the dripping and flour together, stir in the sugar, currants (well cleaned), the

baking powder, and the peel. Beat up the egg and pour it in, and make into a very

stiff dough; take up in rough pieces and lay on a greased tin, bake in rather a quick

through the sausage machine; shred the suet finely and mix it in with the sugar.

Stone the raisins and pull them in half, and clean the sultanas; mix these in. Peel

and core the apples; put in the pips, chop the apples finely, and add them. Let it

stand for an hour, and then mix it into a paste; the juice from the applies and the

sugar will be found sufficient. Press into a basin, tie down tightly, and boil at

Put the milk on to boil, and when it boils pour it on to the arrowroot and stir; if it

does not get thick enough, pour back into the saucepan and boil for a minute. Turn

Mix the flour, crumbs, finely chopped suet, and sugar in a basin, then stir in the

jam. Beat up the egg and milk, and stir it in. Mix up the carbonate of soda and the

vinegar together; beat it in, and when well mixed pour it into a buttered basin. Tie

up carefully, and boil for two hours; turn out on to a hot dish, and serve either

Wipe and cut up the rhubarb and put it on to boil with one gill water, and boil for

about ten minutes. Wash the sago and soak it in one gill warm water, then add to

stirring constantly. Pour into a basin or mould which has been dipped in cold water,

and stand away till cold and firm, then turn out and serve. A little boiled custard is

Peel the apples and scoop out the core and fill in with jam; put into a piedish and

bake till the apples are soft. While they are baking, boil the rice and milk together

till the rice is soft and the milk absorbed. Beat in the egg and sugar, pour over the

apples; brush over with milk, and bake till a nice colour. Serve either hot or cold.

mix the rice in a spoonful of cold water and pour it in. Stir till it boils, and let it boil

two or three minutes; pour into a mould which has been dipped in cold water, and

Make the milk tepid, stir in the sugar and a spoonful of rennet or a rennet tablet;

pour into a dish and stand on the stove till solid. Grate a little nutmeg on top and

Stone the raisins and chop them lightly, put them into a basin with the currants

rind of half a lemon, and half an orange. Strain in the juice, and let it stand for an

hour. Roll out the pastry and cut into rounds about three inches long. Lay a little

flatten it out in the middle. Brush over with sugar, and bake in rather a quick oven.

Rub the dripping into the flour, stir in the sugar and baking powder, and grate over

the rind of the lemon. Beat up the egg and strain in the lemon juice; add these to

the dry ingredients, mix into a stiff dough, and knead for a few minutes. Roll out,

Rub the butter and flour together, make a well in the centre, sprinkle in the sugar,

and drop in the egg. Mix the yeast and sugar in a basin, make the milk just tepid,

dough, divide into two parts. Rub a little butter over two small tins, and put one

for an hour, or until they have risen to at least three times their original size;

then bake in a quick oven for fifteen minutes. Serve either plain, or toasted and

Rub the butter into the flour, stir in the sugar and baking powder. Beat up the egg

and milk, and mix the dry ingredients into a dough with them; divide into two pieces

and form each into a flat cake. Cut lightly across into four with a knife, put on to