times of scarcity, such as that of the potato famine. In Wiltshire, for instance, wages of labourers are, in many parts, even now, only eight shillings a week; but owing to the comparative cheapness of provisions, and to other circumstances, the people are able constantly to add to their meals butter and cheese, a little small beer, and more occasionally some vegetables, and a little bacon." The mortality of the county in 1862, with a population, of course, largely increased since 1847, was 20 per cent. less, in actual numbers, than that of the latter year, and still further below the numbers of 1848; and we may fairly suppose that, for the mere purposes of fitting the men for hard labour in the field, and keeping them in good animal health, their diet is sufficient.

If this indeed be the case, if anything like the diet of the agricultural labourer be enough for the purposes of ordinary existence, what are our wealthy classes doing? Here, however, we must at once make a distinction, separating the men of tranquil, cheerful lives, whose occupations do not expose them to much brain-fatigue or anxiety, from those who are subjected to such influences. It is impossible in the space of this paper to go into the interesting, but very large question of the kinds of diet suitable to various occupations; but we may state the general principle which is now fully recognized, that continuous and severe exertion of the intellect, or excitement of the passions, or even continuous deprivation of the pleasing emotions (such as is experienced by prisoners confined for long terms), absolutely requires an increased and richer food in order to maintain health. A considerable proportion of our wealthy over-feeders lead lives which may be said to be as nearly as possible free from the disturbance of laborious intellectual work, or of wearing emotion, and to these, as far as their own chances of long and comfortable lives are concerned, it might be well, perhaps, to apply such a system of diet as we have described. But we have, by no means, exhausted the difficulties of the problem, unless we could be sure that not only would such a diet be sufficient to carry such men through a long and healthy life, but would also ensure, as far as such a thing can be ensured, that their offspring will be born with healthy organisms, and specially with vigorous nervous systems, which would not be likely to break down under the first strain put upon them. On the whole, perhaps Dalton's estimate of two pounds and a half solid and three pounds of liquid food may be considered as nearly representing the quantities which would be suitable for an adult not living a life of great mental exertion or anxiety, and, like Dalton, not drinking alcohol. In the case of a moderate consumer of alcoholic drinks, this proportion may be somewhat reduced. We agree with Mr. Lewes that it is impossible to doubt that, making all allowance for possible peculiarities of circumstances and constitution, the very small daily quantity of solid food (12 oz.), on which the celebrated Cornaro lived for so many years, was rendered suffi

*The kindness of the masters, doubtless, in many cases, helps the labourers; as for instance when they grind corn into flour for them, gratis,

cient, in great measure, by the 14 oz. of light wine which he added to it; though we would by no means recommend our readers to try the effect of such severe abstinence, even with this mitigation.

If any such standard as that of Valentin or Dalton, as to quantity of food, be adopted, attention must be paid to the proportion of flesh-food which should enter into it. Dalton allowed one pound of meat per diem; and from a comparison of numerous dietaries of public institutions, due allowance being made for the peculiar circumstances of their respective inmates, this seems to approach pretty nearly to the best general average that can be given for the nourishment of adult males. From what has been already stated as to the influence of a high muscular development in the demand for flesh-food, it will be inferred that women, under ordinary circumstances, would require less of this sort of nourishment than men. It is scarcely necessary to add that to the digestive organs of many of both sexes, such a large proportion of meat is found to be unsuited, and that it is necessary to find other means of accomplishing the object which it is supposed to effect, i. e. the supply of a large quantity of concentrated nitrogenous food to the system. Here we may revert to the experiments of Bischoff and Voit, already alluded to, in which it was observed that the addition of a certain amount of fat to the flesh-food has an extraordinary influence in diminishing the quantity of the latter which is required. And we may remark that further researches of these physiologists have demonstrated that sugar and starchy matters play, to a great extent, the same part. These observations enable us to understand such phenomena as the diet of the Hindoo, which consists in great part of rice (a highly starchy food), together with a considerable quantity of melted butter (animal fat), and a small proportion only of some cereal grains, containing nitrogen. In the case of the Hindoo, however, this substitution of starchy and fatty for nitrogenous elements oí food has been carried to an excess which prevents that development of muscular strength which distinguishes the well-fed Englishman, even when he gets almost no food but bread; but this would be a far less calamity to many of our lazy gourmandizers than is the condition which they bring themselves to by fatiguing their organisms with continual over-doses of flesh-foods.

But, indeed, without travelling out of the range of nitrogenous substances, there are most important substitutes for flesh-food which are practically adopted into use by large sections of the population, and which yet receive but slight attention from the wealthy classes. Cheese and onions are two articles of so extremely plebeian a character that they are apt to be unjustly depreciated; and yet so high is their nutritive value that we have no hesitation in saying that they, more than anything else, stand between the low-paid agricultural labourer of some districts and the kind of chronic starvation which ensues on a diet quantitatively not very much more scanty than that which now keeps him in tolerable health. Both these are highly nitrogenous. With regard to onions, their value is

so well understood in the navy, that in the list of rations they are con. sidered equivalent in nutritive value to four times their weight of any other kind of vegetable except their congeners, the leeks; while with regard to cheese, we may state that in nutritive value it equals or exceeds any single article of diet which it is possible to name. The one objection to cheese is that it is frequently slow of digestion; but this defect may be overcome, as Dr. Brinton well remarks, by "minute division, cooking, or careful mastication," and "by a proper admixture of vegetable food." Whence it follows that the cheese-macaroni, with which many persons carelessly finish an already copious dinner, is by no means a mere alimentary trifle that may be thrown in without due account taken; and that large masses of savoury Portugal onions, however tempting, are not the thing to add to a meal without making serious compensating reductions.

The evils of excess in those forms of vegetable food which are very slightly nitrogenous is trifling compared to excesses in flesh-food, in bread, or in any of the more nitrogenous vegetables. The greatest evil, perhaps, of an excessive consumption of highly starchy vegetables, like potatoes, is, that their mere bulk satisfies the sense of hunger to a greater extent than their starchy materials can compensate for the deficiency of nitrogen and of various important mineral matters. Something of the same kind occurs as a result of the practice of living almost exclusively on the whitest sorts of bread, which contain far less nitrogen than the coarser varieties. Whoever could cure the poorer classes of this very serious dietetic error would confer a double benefit on them, in saving them from the results of mechanical repletion, combined with real starvation, of a sort which tends to produce rheumatic and gouty affections. It is a fortunate thing that, as pointed out by Dr. Brinton, the direct evil consequences of an excessive ingestion of starchy matters are very much diminished by their passing through the body undissolved.

It will be observed that we have made no mention of the basis which by many physiologists is considered to afford far the safest ground for any quantitative rules of diet, viz. the calculation of the excreta of the body during long periods of time. It must not be supposed, however, that we are indifferent to this subject, which is likely soon to receive an important development from investigations now in progress in the hands of more than one accomplished physiologist; but, in truth, it would be impossible to do justice to that aspect of the question without introducing, also, considerations as to the influence of particular occupations, &c., which would altogether exceed the space which we can afford. It seemed preferable to point to the results of experiments ready made to our hand by accidental circumstances, by the skill of the physiologist, or by the practical shrewdness of persons who have found themselves under the necessity of dieting large numbers of men, women, and children. From the latter class of experiments we select one, in conclusion, which it seems to us particularly useful to introduce to general notice, viz, the scale of

diets adopted at the infirmary for scrofulous children at Margate, an establishment at which, of course, good nutrition is a sine quâ non of success in treatment. We quote from Dr. Brinton.

At this infirmary, it appears that children between the ages of five and ten years receive daily 8 or 10 ounces of bread and half a pint of milk (with water), 3 or 4 ounces of roast or boiled meat, lb. potatoes or other vegetables, with a quarter of a pint of porter, on five days of the week, substituted on the remaining two days by from 8 to 12 ounces rice or currant pudding, or occasionally some soup instead. Children between the ages of ten and sixteen receive daily 12 to 14 ounces bread and a pint and a half of tea, 5 or 6 ounces roast or boiled meat, with 1lb. potatoes or other vegetables, together with half a pint of porter, on five days of the week, substituted on the remaining two days by 16 ounces rice or currant pudding, or soup. This is certainly a liberal diet, and it may be added that it is an extremely successful one; while the only source of waste in it is the "plain" roasting and boiling of the meat: against which venerated national custom it appears useless to struggle at present.

Our observations are intended rather to be suggestive of thought in our readers than to convey exact rules. They are intended to show what an important influence a slight and perfectly avoidable dietetic mistake may have on the health of large classes of people; but they are by no means intended to cast a slight upon the sacred right of private judgment in matters of supply. Every heart, and every stomach also, "knows its own burden," though possibly the remarks we have made may suggest doubts in the minds of some how far this latter sort of knowledge goes. One delusion, at least, we may hope they will serve to dispel, that the greater the bulk of food, especially meat, which can be taken without actual digestive discomfort, the better; while possibly they may suggest a rational explanation of the calming influence which moderate stimulation unquestionably exerts upon the outrageousness of that sort of appetite which clamours unreasonably for mere quantity of food.

48

Stage Adaptations of Shakspeare.

DURING the palmy days of the drama, as they are called, people went oftener than they do now to see the plays of Shakspeare represented on the stage; but they studied them less in the closet. Hence veneration for the name of the poet was not necessarily accompanied by an accurate knowledge of his poetry; and while that name appeared in the bills the audience felt satisfied that they heard the genuine strains of the Swan of Avon, whereas, in many cases, they were presented with parodies of the Shakspearian creations, rather than with the creations themselves. The form in which several of Shakspeare's plays appeared, not more than thirty years ago, was the result of corruptions and partial restorations, the history of which extends over something like a century and a half. Within the last thirty years, on the other hand, a respect for the text of the poet has sprung up, which was totally unknown to the past generation, with the exception of the literary few; and managers have therefore vied with each other in banishing the interpolations and supplying the omissions of a former age. Save in the case of one popular play, Shakspeare's text has been taken as the basis of stage representation, without regard to his adaptors; the introduction of new matter into the text has been strictly prohibited, and where excisions have been made, it has been not with the intention of "improving" Shakspeare, but in deference to two qualities which distinguish our age from his—namely, an increased sensitiveness to indelicacies of language, and a less commendable dread of the tedious. Those managers who have carried to the extreme the theory that Shakspeare is most highly honoured when his works are made a vehicle for pageantry show a respect for his words which would have astounded a Garrick, or even a John Kemble. Opposed as they may be on abstract principles of art, such managers can plausibly answer, referring to a play-book in which there are no stage directions, that the poet has left open the question of decoration, and that whatever they introduce in the shape of tableaux between the acts, processions, and panoramas, they have not sinned against the letter of his law. Under these circumstances, there is no doubt that, much as the taste for the higher drama has declined among the public, and much as the strength of theatrical companies has diminished, more genuine Shakspearian poetry has been heard on the London stage during the reign of Queen Victoria than during the reign of any other sovereign since Charles I. Within the last thirty years nearly the whole of Shakspeare's dramatic works, even including the doubtful Pericles, have been presented to the public essentially as written by the poet, whereas the plays exhibited to our fathers in an uncorrupted state were few indeed.