The consequence of this injudicious change is, that one great enjoyment is lost to the tea-drinker--that which consists in having the tea infused in water actually hot, and securing an equal temperature when a fresh supply is required. Such, too, is what those who have preceded us would have called the degeneracy of the period in which we live, that now the tea-making is carried on in the housekeeper's room, or in the kitchen-- "For monstrous novelty, and strange disguise, We sacrifice our tea, till household joys And comforts cease." What, he asks, can be more delightful than those social days described by Tate, the poet-laureate? "When in discourse of nature's mystic powers And noblest themes we pass the well-spent hours, Whilst all around the virtues--sacred band, And listening graces, pleased attendants stand. Thus our tea-conversations we employ. Where, with delight, instructions we enjoy, Quaffing, without the waste of time or wealth, The sovereign drink of pleasure and of health." Fortunately for the lovers of the teapot and the kettle, a change in the fashion of making tea is taking place, the "loud-hissing urn" being now confined almost exclusively to a public tea-party and the coffee tavern. The quality of tea and coffee supplied by the latter institution has long been considered _the_ blot upon an otherwise excellent movement. Not too severely did the _Daily Telegraph_ speak a short time ago against the atrocious stuff supplied under the name of tea in public institutions. The editor said,--