its own narcotic quality, but that quality will act with double force in a body weakened from other causes. This certainly is one great reason for the increased and increasing proportion of nervous, bilious, spasmodic, and stomach complaints, appearing among the lower ranks of life. This fact has long been confirmed to me in different countries, and among persons varying much in their employments. I have lately met with many severe and obstinate cases among poor tradesmen and labourers, where it was plain they originated from this cause. I also think that the use of tea often paves the way to habitual dram-drinking among this class of society, more than among the better orders. It is worthy of remark, that the finer the tea it contains more of the pernicious quality.

"The nervous ailments of female constitutions, which are often induced and aggravated by tea-drinking, in advanced age are apt to terminate in palsy. And from a concomitant torpor of the absorbent system of vessels, they also very frequently terminate in general dropsy. Coffee possesses the narcotic principle, but in a lesser degree than tea; the same diseases follow its use.'

To this powerful pièce justificative, and on the pathological portion of the subject, I shall at present add nothing; for I must pass on to the far more important question of the influence of tea on morality and religion. Its tendency to produce Scepticism and Infidelity is, however, too large a topic for the present occasion, though I only defer it. Let us turn to the question of Morals.

The vices with which drunkenness connects itself are patent to the dullest. Is there any reason to suspect that Tea and Coffee are at the bottom of the less glaring forms of social depravation?

Mr. Mill in his Inaugural Discourse at St. Andrews disclosed his share of the feeling which has long been creeping over the consciousness of the best men and women in England, that the standard of commercial honour has been rapidly lowering itself of late years. And, still more distinctly and emphatically, Miss Frances Power Cobbe, in an article (in the Fortnightly Review) upon Progress, admitted, as she could not but admit, that in this respect we had gone back in the most portentous manner. Others have lamented, with bitterness, that " an Englishman's word" is no longer what it was in the olden days. Now, we must remember that those were the days when men drank two, three, four, even five bottles of port at a sitting, and were not content with that. "Did you drink those three bottles of port without assistance?" said a friend to a gentleman who had dined. "No," said the gentleman, "I had the assistance of a bottle of Madeira." And the case was typical. But, in those times, tea was an expensive drink, and only just beginning to work its way insidiously downwards among the middle class and the

poor.

And let us not fail to notice who it was that first took eagerly to tea. It was the weaker, less conscientious, or at least, less straight

forward sex. Women are not, as a class, prone to the faults which

make open criminals; they are as correct as teetotallers. But is Woman honest? Not so:

"Her mode of candour is deceit,

And what she thinks from what she'll say—
Although I'll never call her cheat-

(But that is only the poet's gallantry)—

Lies far as Scotland from Cathay!"

Under the fostering care of the female sex, tea passed into universal use as a beverage, and what have we had in its train! Commercial fraud in a hundred thousand hideous forms. not a corner of our life in which we are safe. England, considered There is as a mart, is one vast gambling hell. From the rotten banks and rotten insurance companies, down to rotten ships, it is all the same story. I forbear here to enlarge further. But to what are we to attribute these changes? Some secret, subtle, unheeded, but most potent relaxing influence has been at work for half a century, weakening the moral fibre of the nation. And what is it? To change the metaphor, let us ask: Where is English honesty? And I answer— drowned in the Tea-pot. Tea has done it. Not, indeed, (to parody our three-bottle ancestors,) without assistance-it has had the assistance of coffee, and even of cocoa (ginger-beer I omit for the present). It remains to consider, however, briefly the manner in which tea has exercised this demoralizing influence.

The teetotallers have often insisted upon what the majority of physiologists and physicians have denied, namely, the injurious reaction which follows upon the use of alcohol. apparently not considered what is the first and second action of tea. But they have We know that Shakspeare makes Cæsar express a profound distrust of Cassius on the ground that he did not sleep much; and some of the worst and most treacherous men that ever lived, Napoleon, for example, have slept but little. Now let us apply this: What is the immediate effect of Tea? To cause wakefulness. an American? By the word, Wide-awake. come from? America. Who

nutmegs America. In America.

How do we describe And where do wooden "repudiates" debts?

And where was a prohibitory liquor law first established?

These are pregnant facts.

The injudicious use of alcohol often leads to acts of violence, but it does not stimulate the instincts of craft. It makes people sing " Auld lang syne," or "He's a jolly good fellow;" it makes them laugh, or cry, or jump about, or fall down flat, or cmbrace each other, or swear eternal friendship or eternal enmity, or give each other black eyes; it even makes men beat their wives. It Lever makes men sly. A man far gone in drink never forges a cheque. I do not believe there is a drunken detective in the police force. But watch the effect of tea. You never find people sing "Auld lang syne" over their tea, nor

But

do they fight over it. All is calm and peaceful on the surface. underneath! I never drink tea without feeling as if I should like to over-reach somebody directly. I feel as if it would do me good to go in for a competitive examination on the spot. I invent wooden nutmegs and dummy ship-bolts. I think of abstruse conundrums. I long to start bubble companies and forge trade marks. In a short time I experience a general relaxation of fibre. I find I have no physical courage, no patriotism, no love of man as man, no motto but Caveat emptor, or, the devil take the hindmost. I am convinced that there is more short weight given by tea-drinking shopkeepers than by tipsy ones. All this seems to agree with the alleged effect of tea upon the animal economy in arresting waste. As it makes you want to keep all you get, it is natural that it should make you want to get all you can.

I invite the attention of pathologists, psychologists, reformers, and legislators to this great question. While we have been turning our eyes upon the more obvious and vulgar evils attendant upon the free use of alcohol, we have been overlooking the insidious action of a bland and peaceful liquid which has been sapping the foundations of manhood and honesty. Alcohol sends a few to gaol or to the madhouse. But Tea acts through the nervous system on the conscience and turns us into a nation of sneaks. Let us, then, take instant action. It would be difficult, at present, to prohibit entirely the sale of tea, but pray do what you can! You do not hesitate to pick my pocket in order to educate somebody else's child. Why should you hesitate to rob me of either money or pleasure in order to prevent the relaxation of other people's moral fibre by the use of tea! I say, let the whole tea trade be placed under instant legislative checks. Set up visitors to go from door to door, as your School Board inquisitors do, and let them inquire into the quantity of tea drunk in every household, whether black or mixed, and the strength of the infusion. Let every tea-dealer keep a register of his customers, and if upon a monthly or quarterly average it is found that his sales go beyond a quarter of a pound a year for each adult, fine him, or nail his car to the door, or something of that sort. Perhaps the recent reaction in favour of severity would even support you in applying the cat in such cases. All the favour I ask is that as soon as ever any parliamentary rival of Sir Wilfrid Lawson has made up his mind to bring in a bill to carry out these objects, he will oblige me with a private intimation, so that I may take care of myself (I am fond of tea) by laying in a stock that will last out my natural life or (since tea deteriorates by keeping) that I may have time to import and cultivate the tea-plant itself. If such conduct as this on the part of the introducer of such a bill seem a little at variance with principle, it will at least be admitted that it is in harmony with that spirit of enlightened compromise which distinguishes our age. MATTHEW BROWNE.

THE REIGNING FAMILY OF PERSIA.

THE Shah of Persia is now in Europe. He is the first Persian monarch who has had courage enough to leave his country, and sufficient confidence in his people and officers to believe that they will keep his throne safe and unoccupied till his return. Properly speaking, this will be the second time that His Majesty has gone outside his realms; last year he made the pilgrimage to the sepulchre of Hussein, the grandson of Muhammed, and third Imám, situated in the plains of Kerbelá, not far from Bághdád. There at Kerbelá, A.D. 680, or in the year of the Hejreh 61, took place a great battle in which Hussein, his children and relations, were cruelly murdered.

The policy of the Shah has for some time been to put the powerful nobles of the country, and those royal princes of which he need be afraid in the event of a revolt, in such positions that their efforts must be vain, no matter what takes place. He either sends them to govern a far-off province, where the inhabitants are scarce, and the revenues small, or he places with them to assist in the government of a province some other nobles or princes who are at heart at enmity with the governor, and who will try to counteract any of his ambitious schemes. This policy is well illustrated at Shiráz. The governor of the province, nominally, is the Sháh's eldest son Sultán Mas' úd Mirza, named Zil-us-Sultán (Shadow of the Sultán), but really the Zahir-ud-dowleh (Supporter of the kingdom), a very old man, and I think some relation of the Sháh. The prince and the old man do not agree very well together, but nevertheless represent one faction in Shiráz, viz. that of the government. Then, as collector of the revenues there is Mirza Abul Hassan, a Syed, and called Mushir al Mulk (Counsellor of the state), an old man of great power amongst the people, immense riches, and proprietor of a great many villages and tracts of country in Fárs. The Kalanter of Shiráz, or Mayor, is Alí Muhammed Khán, called Kavám al Mulk (prop of the kingdom), grandson of the Ibrahim Khán who placed the first Kájár King firmly on the throne by betraying Lutf Alí Khán, the last Zend, also very rich, a great landed proprietor, and much liked by the people. The Kavám is the bête noire of the Mushir, who in turn is that of the Kavám. The enmity between these two noblemen has at times been so great that their dependants have had regular pitched battles, and have sacked each other's houses, and committed all manner of outrages. There are therefore at Shiráz three counteracting forces. If two of these were to form an offensive and defensive alliance, (which, however, the

Shah knows to be impossible,) the present dynasty would have no chance whatever in the south of Persia. And so it is in other parts of Persia. The only classes of whom the Sháh stood in any fear were the priests, the mullas and Syeds. The Sháh has some very good ideas; immediately he goes to Kerbelá on a pilgrimage, he becomes a better Mussulman than before. He can now prefix to his name the title of Kerbeláï, which denotes a person who has made the pilgrimage to Kerbelá. The priesthood now support, him. Last year, the day of the Aid-i-norúz, the vernal equinox, fell in the month of Muharrem, the month during which Imám Hassein was killed, and during which the good Mussulmans do nothing but mourn the Imám's death, abstain from all frivolous discourses, dress themselves in black, put on doleful faces, &c. Every year on the day of the vernal equinox, great festivities take place. Presents are received and given by almost every one in the country; and the Shah on that day always holds a grand levee, at which he receives the presents and peace-offerings of his rich subjects. Various festivities take place during the day, which winds up with grand displays of fireworks. The Shah, however, to please the priests, forbade all festivities, held no levee, and religiously fulfilled all the ceremonies of mourning. In the event of a revolt, therefore, the priests, who are the most powerful party in the country, would take the Shah's part, and he could not help being victorious. Having made everything safe in his empire, he can safely leave it for some time, and go to Europe, to see with his own eyes those wonders of the Feringees of which he has heard so much. As many of the readers of Saint Pauls will probably see the "Kebleh álem, the sovereign whose elevation vies with that of the planet Saturn, to whom the sun serves for a banner, whose splendour equals that of the heavens, whose armies are more numerous than the stars, whose greatness is like that of Jemshid, and whose munificence is like that of Darius; the sovereign who is the inheritor of the throne of the Kaiánians, Násr-ed-dín Sháh, King of Kings, the son of Kings, the great and mighty and absolute emperor of Persia,"* some particulars regarding the origin of his family, and the deeds of his ancestors, will not be out of place here.

The family name of the present dynasty, is Kájár. I have seen somewhere that this name originated at the time of Sháh Abbas I. (17th century) and means "fugitive" in Turkish, because the head of the tribe fled to Shah Abbas for protection. The name Kájár is however spoken of as early as A. D. 1296, as the following history will show.

This tirade is a literal translation of the Shah's titles as they appear in any firman or paper which bears the Shah's signature. Kebleh is the place to which a person turns his face while praying, Kebleh álem the Kebleh of the world. Jemshid was the 4th monarch of the Píshdádian Kings. Kaiánian is the name given to the race of kings of which Kai Kobád (the Dejoces of Herodotus) was the founder (B. c. 710).