been said that its presence will sometimes occasion an uneasy sense of weight in a weak stomach. The quantity of this salt varies considerably; but, in general, it appears that the proportion of five grains in a pint of water will constitute hardness, unfit for washing with scap, and for many other purposes of domestic use. Animals appear to be more sensible of the impurities of water than man. Horses, by an instinctive sagacity, always prefer soft water; and when, by necessity or inattention, they are confined to the use of that which is hard, their coats become rough and ill-conditioned, and they are frequently attacked with the gripes. Pigeons are also known to refuse hard, after they have been accustomed to soft water.

'River water. This, being derived from the conflux of numerous springs with rain water, generally possesses considerable purity; that the proportion of its saline contents should be small, is easily explained by the precipitation which must necessarily take place from the union of different solutions: it is, however, liable to hold in suspension particles of earthy matter, which impair its transparency, and sometimes its salubrity. This is particularly the case with the Seine, the Ganges, and the Nile: but as the impurities are, for the most part, only suspended, and not truly dissolved, mere rest or filtration will therefore restore to it its original purity. The chemist, therefore, after such a process, would be unable to distinguish water taken up at London from that procured at Hampton-court. There exists a popular belief, that the water of the Thames is peculiarly adapted for the brewery of porter; it is only necessary to observe, that such water is never used in the London breweries. The vapid taste of river, when compared with spring, water, depends upon the loss of air and carbonic acid, from its long exposure.

'Well water is essentially the same as spring water, being derived from the same source; it is, however, more liable to impurity from its stagnation or slow infiltration: hence our old wells furnish much purer water than those which are more recent, as the soluble particles are gradually washed away. Mr. Dalton observes, that the more any spring is drawn from, the "softer the water will become.

"Snow water has been supposed to be unwholesome, and in particular to produce bronchocele, from the prevalence of that disease in the Alps; but it does not appear upon what principle its insalubrity can depend. The same strumous affection occurs at Sumatra, where ice and snow are never seen; while, on the contrary, the disease is quite unknown in Chili and Thibet, although the rivers of those countries are supplied by the melting of the snow with which the mountains are covered. The same observations will apply to ice water. The trials of Captain Cook, in his voyage round the world, prove its wholesomeness beyond a doubt: in the high southern latitudes he found a salutary supply of fresh water in the ice of the sea. "This melted ice,' says Sir John Pringle, was not only sweet but soft, and so wholesome as to show the fallacy of human reasoning, unsupported by experiments. When immediately melted, snow water

contains no air, as it is expelled during the act of freezing, consequently it is remarkably vapid; but it soon recovers the air it had lost, by exposure to the atmosphere.

Lake water is a collection of rain, spring, and river waters, contaminated with various animal and vegetable matter, which from its stagnant nature have undergone putrefaction in it. This objection may be urged with greater force against the use of water collected in ponds and ditches, and which the inhabitants of some districts are often under the necessity of drinking. I have known an endemic diarrhoea to arise from such a circumstance.

'Marsh water, being the most stagnant, is the most impure of all water, and is generally loaded with decomposing vegetable matter. There can be no doubt, that numerous diseases have sprung up from its use.'

The juices and infusions of vegetable and animal matter,' says Dr. Paris, constitute the second division of drinks. By impregnating water with the soluble parts of toasted bread, it will frequently agree with those stomachs which rebel against the use of the pure fluid. It is thus rendered slightly nutritive, holding a certain portion of gum and starch in solution. Sir A. Carlisle recommends that it should be prepared with hard biscuit, reduced by fire to a coffee color. This drink, he says, being free from yeast, is a most agreeable beverage. Much depends upon the water being at a boiling temperature, and it ought to be drank as soon as it has cooled sufficiently; for, by keeping, it acquires an unpleasant flavor. Infusions of other kinds of bread, in particular of toasted oat-cakes, also dried or toasted oatmeal, have been recommended; but the taste of such finfusions would not be palatable to any one who has not been accustomed to oat-bread.

'Barley water.-The decoction of barley is a very ancient beverage: it is recommended by Hippocrates, and preferred by him to every other aliment in acute diseases. Barley has the advantage over other grains, in affording less viscid potations. The invention of pearl barley has greatly increased the value of this grain; it is prepared by the removal of its husk or cuticle, and afterwards by being rounded and polished in a mill. These well-known granules consist chiefly of fecula, with portions of mucilage, gluten, and sugar, which water extracts by decoction: but the solution soon passes into the acetous fermentation. The bran of barley contains an acrid resin, and it is to get rid of such an ingredient that it is deprived of its cuticle. The addition of lemon juice and sugar-candy greatly improve the flavor of this drink.

'Gruel.-Oats, when freed from their cuticle, are called groats; in which state, as well as when ground into meal, they yield to water, by coction, the fecula they contain, and form a nutritious gruel, which has also the property of being slightly aperient. It should never be kept longer than forty-eight hours, as it becomes acescent after that period. Gruel may be made of a different degree of consistence, according to the object of its potation. If it be used as a demulcent drink, it should be thin; and may be made, as D. Kitchener, our culinary censor,

informs us, by mixing well together, by degrees, in a piat basin, one table-spoonful of oatmeal with three of cold water, and then adding carefully a pint of boiling water, which is to be boiled for five minutes, stirring it all the time, to prevent the oatmeal from burning at the bottom of the stewpan; then strain through a hair sieve, to separate the undissolved parts of the meal from the gruel. If a more substantial repast is required, double the above quantity of oatmeal must be treated in a similar manner. To in crease the nutritive quality of this aliment, broth or milk may be substituted for water. Some persons are in the habit of introducing a piece of butter into gruel; but the propriety of this practice is questionable, where the stomach is disposed to generate acidity.

Sage tea. The virtues of sage have been so extravagantly praised, that, like many of our remedies, the plant is fallen into disuse from the disgust which its panegyrists have excited. I am convinced, however, that in the form of infusion it possesses some power in allaying the irritability of the stomach, and that, on many occasions, it will furnish a salutary beverage. The same observation will apply to balm tea.' We cannot here find room for the entire observations of this author on TEA; but see this article.

'When drunk four hours after the principal meal,' he observes, it will assist the ulterior stages of digestion, and promote the insensible perspiration; while it will afford to the stomach a grateful stimulus after its labors. In enumerating, however, the advantages of tea, it must not be forgotten that it has introduced and cherished a spirit of sobriety; and it must have been remarked by every physician of general practice, that these persons who dislike tea, frequently supply its place by spirit and water. The addition of milk certainly diminishes the astringency of tea; that of sugar may please the palate, but cannot modify the virtues of the infusion.

'Coffee. The hostility which has been manifested against the use of tea has been extended, with equal rancour, against that of coffee; and, probably, with equal injustice. The principle upon which its qualities depend is more stimulant than that of tea, and certainly exerts a different species of action upon the nervous system, although it is very difficult to define the nature of this difference. If taken immediately after a meal, it is not found to create that disturbance in its digestion which has been noticed as the occasional consequence of tea; on the contrary, it accelerates the operations of the stomach, and will frequently enable the dyspeptic to digest substances, such as fat and oily aliment, which would otherwise occasion much disturbance. The custom of taking coffee immediately after dinner, as so universally practised by the French, no doubt must counteract the evil effects which the peculiar form of their diet is calculated to produce. Coffee, like tea, has certainly an antisoporific effect on many individuals; it imparts an activity to the mind which is incompatible with sleep: but this will rarely occur if the beverage be taken for several

hours before our accustomed period of repose. It seems to be generally admitted, that it possesses the power of counteracting the effects of narcotics; and hence it is used by the Turks with much advantage, in abating the influence of the inordinate quantities of opium they are accustomed to swallow. Where our object is to administer it as a promoter of digestion, it should be carefully made by infusion; decoction dissipates its aroma. The addition of milk is one of unquestionable propriety; that of sugar, or rather sugar-candy, may be allowed. I have known some persons who have never taken this beverage without suffering from acidity in the stomach: where this happens, the practice must be abandoned.

"Chocolate.-In consequence of the large quantity of nutritive matter which this liquid contains, it should be regarded,' Dr. Paris observes, rather as food than drink. It is prepared by reducing the cocoa-nut into paste, with sugar, milk, or eggs: it is also frequently mixed with different aromatics, the most common of which is the vanilla, a substance very liable to disagree with the stomach, and to produce a train of nervous symptoms. As a common beverage, chocolate is highly objectionable; it contains an oil which is difficult of assimilation; it therefore oppresses the stomach: this effect is of course increased by the application of too much heat in its preparation. Another objection against its use is to be found in the observations which I have already offered upon the subject of too great concentration.

'Cocoa is usually considered as a substitute for chocolate. As it contains less nutritive matter, it is not so objectionable; and, as the aily matter exists only in small quantities, it is less likely to disagree with the stomach.

'Whey is a delightful beverage; but as its nature and operation cannot be well understood until the composition of milk is investigated, the observations which I have to offer upon its use will be deferred until the history of that fluid has been examined.

'There are certain saline solutions which are frequently employed as drinks, and deserve some attention in this place: such are imperial and soda water. Imperial is a solution of cream. of tartar flavored with lemon peel. It ought. never to be used except as a medicine. If employed as an ordinary drink, it is apt to retard. digestion. If ever useful as an article of diet, it will be under circumstances of robust health,. and where a large quantity of animal food has been taken.

'Soda Water.-The modern custom of drinking this inviting beverage during, or immediately after dinner, has been a pregnant source of dys pepsia. By inflating the stomach at such a period, we inevitably counteract those muscular contractions of its coats which are essential to chymification. The quantity of soda thus introduced scarcely deserves notice: with the exception of the carbonic acid gas, it may be regarded as water, more mischievous only in consequence of the exhilarating quality inducing us to take it at a period at which we should not require the more simple fluid.'

Of Malt liquors.-Dr. Paris says, 'malt

liquors differ from wines in several essential points: they contain a much larger proportion of nutritive matter, and a less proportion of spirit; while they contain a peculiar bitter and narcotic principle derived from the hop. It would appear, that the extractive matter furnished by the malt is highly nutritive; and we accordingly find, that those persons addicted to such potations are in general fat. Where, however, they are indulged in to any extent, without a corresponding degree of exercise, they induce a plethoric state of the Lody, and all the diseases consequent upon such a condition. To those whose diet is not very nutritive, ale may be considered not only as an innocent, but as a salubrious article; and happy is that country, whose labouring classes prefer such a beverage to the mischievous potations of ardent spirit. These remarks, however, cannot apply to those classes of the community who 'fare sumptuously every day.' They will not require a nutritive potation of such a character; and light wines have accordingly, in these days of luxury, very properly superseded its use: but I am not disposed to extend this remark to its more humble companion, table-beer.' I regard its dismissal from the tables of the great as a matter of regret; its slight, but invigorating bitter is much better adapted to promote digestion than its more costly substitutes. But it should be soft and mild; for, when stale and hard, it is likely to disturb the bowels, and occasion effects the very opposite to those it is intended to produce. Nor ought it to have too great a proportion of hops, but should be thoroughly fermented and purified. Sydenham always took a glass of small beer at his meals, and he considered it as a preservative against gravel.'

For WINE, see that article.

On the subject of the food of the poor we have seen no remarks more intelligent than those of Count Rumford, in his ingenious Essay on Food. He observes; "There is, perhaps, no operation of nature which falls under the cognizance of our senses, more surprising, or more curious, than the nourishment and growth of plants and animals; and there is certainly no subject of investigation more interesting to mankind. As providing subsistence is, and ever must be, an object of the first concern in all countries, any discovery or improvement by which the procuring good and wholesome food can be facilitated, must contribute very powerfully to increase the comforts and promote the happiness of society. That our knowledge in regard to the science of nutrition is still very imperfect, is certain; but I think there is reason to believe, that we are upon the eve of some very important discoveries relative to that mysterious operation. Since it has been known that water is not a simple element, but a compound, and capable of being decomposed, much light has been thrown upon many operations of nature, which formerly were wrapped up in obscurity. In vegetation, for instance, it has been rendered extremely probable, that water acts a much more important part than was formerly assigned to it by philosophers; that it serves not merely as the vehicle of nourishment, but constitutes at least one part, and pro

bably an essential part, of the food of plants; that it is decomposed by them, and contributes materially to their growth; and that manures serve rather to prepare the water for decomposition, than to form of themselves, substantially and directly, the nourishment of the vegetables. Now a very clear analogy may be traced, between the vegetation and growth of plants, and the digestion and nourishment of animals; and as water is indispensably necessary in both processes, and as in one of them (vegetation) it appears evidently to serve as food, why should we not suppose it may serve as food in the other? There is, in my opinion, abundant reason to suspect that this is really the case; and I shall now briefly state the grounds upon which this opinion is founded. Having been engaged for a considerable length of time in providing food for the poor at Munich, I was naturally led, as well by curiosity as motives of economy, to make a great variety of experiments upon that subject; and I had not proceeded far in my opinions, before I began to perceive that they were very important; even much more so than I had imagined. The difference in the apparent goodness, or the palatableness, and apparent nutritiousness of the same kinds of food, when prepared or cooked in different ways, struck me very forcibly; and I constantly found that the richness or quality of a soup depended more upon a proper choice of ingredients, and a proper management of the fire in the combination of these ingredients, than upon the quantity of solid nutritious matter employed; much more upon the art and skill of the cook, than upon the amount of the sums laid out in the market. I found likewise, that the nutritiousness of a soup, or its power of satisfying hunger, and affording nourishment, appeared always to be in proportion to its apparent richness or palatableness. But what surprised me not a little was, the discovery of the very small quantity of solid food, which, when properly prepared, will suffice to satisfy hunger, and support life and health; and the very trifling expense at which the stoutest and most laborious man may in any country be fed. After an experience of more than five years in feeding the poor at Munich, during which time every experiment was made that could be devised, not only with regard to the choice of the articles used as food, but also in respect to their different combinations and proportions, and to the various ways in which they could be prepared or cooked; it was found that the cheapest, most savoury, and most nourishing food that could be provided, was a soup composed of pearl barley, peas. potatoes, cuttings of fine wheaten bread, vinegar, salt and water, in certain proportions. The method of preparing this soup is as follows. The water and the pearl barley are first put together into the boiler, and made to boil; the peas are then added, and the boiling is continued over a gentle fire about two hours; the potatoes are then added (having been previously peeled with a knife, or having been boiled, in order to their being more easily deprived of their skins), and the boiling is continued for about one hour more; during which time the contents of the boiler are frequently stirred

about with a large wooden spoon or ladle, to destroy the texture of the potatoes, and to reduce the soup to one uniform mass. When this is done, the vinegar and salt are added; and last of all, at the moment it is to be served up, the cuttings of bread. The soup should never be suffered to boil, or even to stand long before it is served up, after the cuttings of bread are put to it. It will, indeed, for reasons which will hereafter be explained, be best never to put the cuttings of bread into the boiler at all, but (as is always done at Munich) to put them into the tubs in which the soup is carried from the kitchen into the dining hall; pouring the soup hot from the boiler upon them, and stirring the whole well together with the iron ladles used for measuring out the soup to the poor in the hall. It is of more importance than can well be imagined, that this bread, which is mixed with the soup, should not be boiled. It is likewise

of use it should not be cut as fine or thin as possible; and if it be dry and hard, it will be so much the better. The bread we use at Munich is what is called semel bread, being small loaves, weighing from two to three ounces; and as we receive this bread in donations from the bakers, it is commonly dry and hard, being that which, not being sold in time, remains on hand, and becomes stale and unsaleable; and we have found by experience, that this hard and stale bread answers for our purpose much better than any other, for it renders mastication necessary; and mastication seems very powerfully to assist in promoting digestion; it likewise prolongs the duration of the enjoyment of eating, a matter of very great importance indeed, and which has not hitherto been sufficiently attended to. The quantity of this soup furnished to each person at each meal, or one portion of it (the cuttings of the bread included) is just one Bavarian pound in weight; and as the Bavarian pound is to the pound avoirdupois as 1,125,842 to 1,-it is equal to about nineteen ounces and nine-tenths avoirdupois. Now, to those who know that a full pint of soup weighs no more than about sixteen ounces avoirdupois, it will not, perhaps, at the very first view, appear extraordinary, that a portion weighing nearly twenty ounces, and consequently making nearly one pint and a quarter of this rich, strong, savoury soup, should be found sufficient to satisfy the hunger of a grown person; but when the matter is examined narrowly, and properly analysed, and it is found that the whole quantity of solid food which enters into the composition of one of these portions of soup does not amount to quite six ounces, it will then appear to be almost impossible that this allow ance should be sufficient. That it is quite sufficient, however, to make a good meal for a strong healthy person has been abundantly proved by long experience. I have even found that a soup composed of nearly the same ingredients, except the potatoes, but in different proportions, was sufficiently nutritive, and very palatable, in which only about four ounces and three-quarters of solid food entered into the composition of a portion weighing twenty ounces. But this will not appear incredible to those who know, that one single spoonful of salope, weighing less than one quarter of an ounce, put into a pint of boiling

water, forms the thickest and most nourishing soup that can be taken; and that the quantity of solid matter which enters into the composition of another very nutritive food, hartshorn jelly, is not much more considerable. The barley in my soup seems to act much the same part as the salope in this famous restorative; and no substitute that I could ever find for it, among all the variety of corn and pulse of the growth of Europe, ever produced half the effect; that is to say, half the nourishment at the same expense. Barley may therefore be considered as the rice of Great Britain. It requires, it is true, a great deal of boiling; but, when it is properly managed, it thickens a vast quantity of water; and, as I suppose, prepares it for decomposition. It also gives the soup, into which it enters as an ingredient, a degree of richness which nothing else can give. It has little or no taste in itself, but, when mixed with other ingredients which are savory, it renders them peculiarly grateful to the palate. It is a maxim as ancient, I believe, as the time of Hippocrates, that whatever pleases the palate nourishes; and I have often had reason to think it perfectly just. Could it be clearly ascertained and demonstrated, it would tend to place cookery in a more respectable situation among the arts than it now holds. That the manner in which food is prepared is a matter of real importance; and that the water used in that process acts a much more important part than has hitherto been generally imagined, is, I think, quite evident; for it seems to me to be impossible, upon any other supposition, to account for the appearances. If the very small quantity of solid food which enters into the composition of a portion of some very nutritive soup were to be prepared differently, and taken under some other form, that of bread, for instance; so far from being sufficient to satisfy hunger, and afford a comfortable and nutritive meal, a person would absolutely starve upon such a slender allowance; and no great relief would be derived from drinking crude water to fill up the void in the stomach. But it is not merely from an observation of the apparent effects of cookery upon those articles which are used as food for man, that we are led to discover the importance of these culinary processes. Their utility is proved in a manner equally conclusive and satisfactory, by the effects which have been produced by employing the same process in preparing food for brute animals. It is well known that boiling the potatoes with which hogs are fed renders them much more nutritive; and, since the introduction of the new system of feeding horned cattle, that of keeping them confined in the stables all the year round (a method which is now coming fast into common use in many parts of Germany), great improvements have been made in the art of providing nourishment for those animals; and particularly by preparing their food, by operations similar to those of cookery; and to these improvements it is most probably owing, that stall feeding has in that country, been so universally successful. It has long been a practice in Germany for those who fatten bullocks for the butcher, or feed milch cows, to give them frequently what is called a drank or drink; which is a kind of pottage, prepared differently in different parts

of the country and in different seasons, according to the greater facility with which one or other of the articles occasionally employed in the composition of it may be procured, and according to the particular fancies of individuals. Many feeders make a great secret of the composition of their drinks, and some have, to my knowledge, carried their refinement so far, as actually to mix brandy in them in small quantities; and pretend to have found their advantage in adding this costly ingredient. The articles most commonly used are, bran, oat meal, brewers' grains, mashed potatoes, mashed turnips, rye meal, and barley meal, with a large proportion of water; sometimes two or three or more of these articles are united in forming a drink: and, of whatever ingredients the drink is composed, a large proportion of salt is always added to it. There is perhaps nothing new in the method of feeding cattle with liquid mixtures, but the manner in which these drinks are now prepared in Germany is, I believe, quite new; and shows, what I wish to prove, that cooking renders food really more nutritive. These drinks were formerly given cold, but it was afterwards discovered that they were more nourishing when given warm; and of late their preparation is, in many places, become a very regular culinary process. Kitchens have been built, and large boilers provided and fitted up, merely for the cooking for the cattle in the stables; and I have been assured by many very intelligent farmers, who have adopted this new mode of feeding (and have also found by my own experience), that it is very advantageous indeed; that the drinks are evidently rendered much more nourishing and wholesome by being boiled; and that the expense of fuel, and the trouble attending this process, are amply compensated by the advantages derived from the improvement of the food. We even find it advantageous to continue the boiling a considerable time, two or three hours for instance; as the food goes on to be still farther improved, the longer the boiling is continued. These facts seem evidently to show, that there is some very important secret with regard to nutrition, which has not yet been properly investigated; and it seems to me to be more than probable, that the number of inhabitants who may be supported in any country upon its internal produce, depends almost as much upon the state of the art of cookery, as upon that of agriculture. The Chinese, perhaps, understand both these arts better than any other nation. Savages understand neither of them. But, if cookery be of so much importance, it certainly deserves to be studied with the greatest care; and it ought to be particularly attended to in times of general alarm on account of a scarcity of provisions; for the relief which may in many cases be derived from it is immediate and effectual, while all other sources are distant and uncertain.' After anticipating some objections to his plan, Count Rumford recommends the establishment of public kitchens in all towns and large villages throughout the kingdom. See KITCHEN. FOOL, n. s., v. n. & v. a. FOOL'ERY, n. s. FOOL'ISH, adj. FOOL'ISHLY, adv.

FOOL'ISHNESS, n. s.

Greek φαύλος; German faul, and probably foul in English. Thus, the original mean

ing of fool is worthless, or good for nothing; dirty or idle: applied to the mind, weak, muddy in its ideas; slow of apprehension; reluctant to think It is now generally applied to a natural, au idiot; one to whom nature has denied reason; to one who counterfeits folly; a buffoon or jester. In Scripture the term is employed to designate a wicked man, to intimate that wickedness is folly; as it debases reason, and dishonors the character. The neuter verb is used in the sense to trifle; to toy; to play; to idle; to sport. The active signifies to treat with contempt; to disappoint; to frustrate; to cheat; to defeat; to infatuate; to allure from the dictates of reason and sobriety. Foolery is either habitual folly, or a solitary act, or the object of folly. Foolish, to be void of understanding; weak of intellect; imprudent; indiscreet; ridiculous; contemptible. Foolishly, weakly; without understanding. In Scripture all these terms signify wicked and wickedly. Foolishness is folly; want of understanding; actual deviation from the right. Fool is used in composition and in phrases idiomatic and peculiar the following are instances of both, and their illustrations are placed in the regular chronological order with those of their etymon.

FOOL'BORN, adj. Fool and born. Foolish from the birth.

FOOL-HAPPY, adj. Fool and happy. Lucky; without contrivance or judgment. FOOL'-HARDINESS, N. S. Fool and hardy. FOOL-HARDISE, n. s. Mad rashness; couFOOL'-HARDY, adj. rage without sense. The second noun is obsolete: it is however used by Spenser, and signifies adventurousness without judgment: the adjective signifies foolishly bold.

FOOL'-LARGE, adj. liberal.

Fool and large. Foolishly

FOOL'-TRAP, n. s. Fool and trap. A snare to catch fools in, generally set by rogues. jester; to jest; to make sport; to act like one To play the fool. To play pranks like a hired void of common understanding.

To make a fool of. To disappoint; to defeat. To fool away. To squander; to waste substance; to exchange without an adequate equivalent.

flattering his vanity, or cajoling his understandTo fool one of his money, is to cheat him by ing; that is, to rob him through the medium of his folly or his ignorance.

The fool hath said in his heart there is no God.
Psalm xiv. 1.

A ful gret fool is any conseillour,
That serveth any lord of high honour,
That dare presume, or ones thinken it
That his conseil shuld pass his lordes wit.

Chaucer. The Marchantes Tale.

But for as moche as som folk ben unmesurable, men oughten for to avoid and eschue fool-largesse, the whiche men clepen waste. Certes, he that is fool-large, he geveth not his catel, but he leseth his catel.

Id. The Persones Tale.

This is my lif but if that I wol fight;
And out at dore anon I mote me dight,
Or elles I am lost, but if that I
Be, like a wild leon, fool-hardy.

Id. Prologue to the Monkes Tale.