Part 4

It has been questioned whether the use of wine was known to the antediluvian world; but there can be do doubt, in the corrupt state of man, that wine would have its share in his debasement, and it may be very strongly inferred, from the circumstance that Noah planted a vineyard, and, moreover, "that he drank of the wine, and was drunken," (Gen, ix. 20.)--a sad stain in the character of a man who was "perfect in his generation;" and which also proves that, in the earliest period of the world, the very best of men were liable to fall into error and excess.

But the antiquity and propriety of wine-drinking is not matter of question. The archbishop of Seville, Antonio de Solis, who lived to be 110 years old, drank wine; and even that wonderful pattern of propriety, Cornaro, did the same: but the question is about quantity. Sir William Temple was pleased to lay down a rule, and limit propriety to three glasses. "I drink one glass," says he, "for health, a second for refreshment, a third for a friend; but he that offers a fourth is an enemy."

As in eating, so in drinking, in the question of quantity--much depends on the capacity of the stomach. A very abstemious friend of mine, not long since, dined tete-a-tete with a gentleman well known for his kindness and hospitality, and not less so for his powers of bibulation. After dinner, at which a fair share of many excellent wines was taken, Port and Madeira were put on the table, and before the host, a _magnum_ of Claret. My friend drank his usual quantum, three glasses of Madeira, during which time a great portion of the magnum had disappeared; and soon afterwards, being emptied, the host said, "I think we can just manage a bottle between us." The bottle was brought, and very shortly disappeared, without the aid of the visiter.

The same gentleman and Lord ----, at the Angel at Bury, fell in with some excellent Claret. They had disposed of six bottles, when the landlord, who did not guess or _gauge_ the _quality_ of his customers (the bell being rung for a fresh supply,) begged very gently to hint that it was expensive stuff, being fifteen shillings a bottle! "Oh! is it so? then bring up two bottles directly!"

We have nothing, however, in modern times, at all equal to the account given of some of the ancients. The elder Cato, we are told, warmed good principles with a considerable quantity of good wine.[5] But Cicero's son exceeds all others; so much so, that he got the name of _Bicongius_, because he was accustomed to drink two congii[6] at a sitting. Pliny, and others, abound in grand examples, that prove we have degenerated at any rate in this respect, for these convivials were neither sick nor sorry. Even that eminent debauchee, Nero, was only three times sick in fourteen years. "Nam qui luxuriae immoderatissimae esset, ter omnino per xiv. annos languit; atque ita, ut neque _vino_, neque consuetudine _reliqua_ abstineret."

The Abbé de Voisenon, a very diminutive man, said to his physician, who ordered him a quart of ptisan per hour, "Ah! my friend, how can you desire me to swallow a quart an hour? I hold only a pint."

Wine has not only been considered good for the body, but has, from the earliest period, been thought invigorating to the mind. Thus we find it a constant theme of praise with poets. Martial says--

Regnat nocte calix, volvuntur biblia mane, Cum Phoebo Bacchus dividit imperium.

All night I drink, and study hard all day; Bacchus and Phoebus hold divided sway.

Horace has done ample justice to it; and even Homer says--

The weary find new strength in generous wine.

Upon the principle, no doubt, of expanding the imagination, we find, so early as 1374, old Geoffrey Chaucer had a pitcher of wine a day allowed him. Ben Jonson, in after times, had the third of a pipe annually; and a certain share of this invigorating aliment has been the portion of Laureates down to the present day.

Nor are the poets the only eulogists of wine. Some of the greatest names in history are to be found in the list. We find Mr. Burke furnishing reasons why the rich and the great should have their share of wine. He says, they are among _the unhappy_--they feel personal pain and domestic sorrow--they pay their full contingent to the contributions levied on mortality in these matters;--therefore they require this sovereign balm. "Some charitable dole," says he, "is wanting to those, our often _very unhappy brethren_, to fill the gloomy void that reigns in minds which have nothing on earth to hope or fear; something to relieve the killing languor and over-laboured lassitude of those who have nothing to do."

This observation of Mr. Burke's introduces it to our notice as a remedy--as a medicine, in the hands of a physician. Thus we find particular wines recommended by particular doctors, having a fashionable run as specifics:--at one time all the gouty people were drinking Madeira; and many a man persuaded himself he had a fit of _flying_ gout, for the sake of the remedy.[7] Somebody, however, found out that Madeira contained acid, and straight the cellars were rummaged for old Sherry. This change was attributed to Dr. Baillie, who had no more to do with it than Boerhaave, as he has been known to declare. Sherry, and nothing but Sherry, however, could or would the _Podagres_ drink.

Dr. Reynolds, who lived and practised very much with the higher orders, had a predilection for that noble and expensive comforter, Hoc! which short word, from his lips, has often made the doctor's physic as costly as the doctor's fee.

Wine has also been recommended, by the highest medical authorities, as alleviating the infirmities of old age.

A Greek physician recommended it to Alexander as the pure blood of the earth.

Though an excess in wine is highly blamable, yet it is more pardonable than most other excesses. The progressive steps to it are cheerful, animating, and seducing; the melancholy are relieved, the grave enlivened, the witty and gay inspired--which is the very reverse of excess in eating: for, Nature satisfied, every additional morsel carries dulness and stupidity with it. "Every inordinate cup is unbless'd, and the ingredient is a devil," says Shakspeare.

"King Edgar, like a king of good fellows," adds Selden, "or master of the revels, made a law for Drinking. He gave orders that studs, or knobs of silver or gold (so Malmesbury tells us.) should be fastened to the sides of their cups, or drinking vessels, that when every one knew his mark or boundary, he should, out of modesty, not either himself covet, or force another to desire, more than his stint." This is the only law, before the first parliament under king James, that has been made against those swill-bowls,

Swabbers of drunken feasts, and lusty rowers, In full-brimmed rummers that do ply their oars,

"who, by their carouses (tippling up Nestor's years as if they were celebrating the goddess _Anna Perenna_,) do, at the same time, drink others' health, and mischief and spoil their own and the public."

An argument very much after this fashion was held by the learned Sir Thomas More. Sir Thomas was sent ambassador to the Emperor by king Henry the Eighth. The morning he was to have his audience, _knowing the virtue of wine_, he ordered his servant to bring him a good large glass of Sack; and, having drunk that, called for another. The servant, with officious ignorance, would have dissuaded him from it, but in vain; the ambassador drank off a second, and demanded a third, which he likewise drank off; insisting on a fourth, he was over-persuaded by his servant to let it alone; so he went to his audience. But when he returned home, he called for his servant, and threatened him with his cane. "You rogue," said he, "what mischief have you done me! I spoke so to the emperor, on the inspiration of those three glasses that I drank, that he told me I was fit to govern three parts of the world. Now, you dog! if I had drunk the fourth glass, I had been fit to govern all the world."

The French, a very sober people, have a proverb--

Qu'il faut, à chaque mois, S'enivrer au moins une fois.

Which has been improved by some, on this side the water, into an excuse for getting drunk every day in the week, for fear that the _specific day_ should be missed. It would, however, startle some of our sober readers, to find this made a question of grave argument--yet, "whether it is not healthful to be drunk once a month," is treated on by Dr. Carr in his letters to Dr. Quincy.--_Brande's Jour._

[5] Cato allowed his slaves, during the Saturnalia, four bottles of wine per diem.

[6] Two congii are seven quarts, or eight bottles!

[7] An eminent house-painter in the city, a governor of St. Bartholomew's Hospital, got a receipt for the Painter's Cholic (cholica pictonum,) which contained all sorts of comfortable things--the chief ingredients being Cogniac brandy and spices. It did wonders with the first two or three cases; but he found the success of the remedy so increased the frequency of the complaint, that he was compelled to give up his medical treatment; for as long as he had the _Specific_, his men were constantly making wry faces at him.

* * * * *

It is somewhat curious that two illustrious members of the Royal Society should have distinguished themselves on _Angling_. Nearly 200 years ago, Prince Rupert studied the art of tempering _fish-hooks_; and the other day Sir Humphry Davy published a volume on _Fly-fishing_.

* * * * *

THE GATHERER.

A snapper up of unconsidered trifles

SHAKSPEARE.

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PUNS.

It was a good defence of baskets of game and periodical remittances of Norfolk turkeys, that "_Presents_ endear _absents_."

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Some one observed, on hearing of the _Manchew_ Tartars, that they must be a race of Cannibals; on which another said, that he concluded the Chinese must be a tribe of the Celtes, (_Sell-Teas_.)

* * * * *

Bannister being impudently asked, "If he was not a relation of Lord STAIR?" good-humouredly answered, "It must then be by collateral descent."

* * * * *

A gentleman having received a shot in _the Temple_, Mr. Theodore Hook remarked that it was a _legal wound_; an inveterate punster who overheard this never forgave himself for not replying on the spot, "As it was not fatal, it could only have been a _Gray's Inn_ (grazing) wound."

* * * * *

TOASTS.

After the battle of Assaye, at a _fête_, I recollect, on one of these occasions, a rather illiterate character, who used to say that "Father and he fit, caise he sold the beastesses for too little money; so he coummed out a cadet," sat as vice-president; the toast of "General Wellesley, and the heroes of Assaye," was, as usual, given from the chair; when Mr. Vice, rising majestically, and holding aloft his brimming glass, with a sonorous voice, and north-country accent, echoed the toast in the words, "General Wellesley, and here he is I say!"--_Twelve Years' Military Adventures, &c_.

* * * * *

THE MUG-HOUSE CLUB.

(_From "A Journey through England," 1722_.)

In the City of London, almost every parish hath its separate club, where the citizens, after the fatigue of the day is over in their shops, and on the Exchange, unbend their thoughts before they go to bed.

But the most diverting, or amusing of all, is the Mug-House-Club in Long-Acre, where, every Wednesday and Saturday, a mixture of gentlemen, lawyers, and tradesmen, meet in a great room, and are seldom under a hundred.

They have a grave old gentleman in his own gray hairs, now within a few months of ninety years old, who is their president; and sits in an armed-chair, some steps higher than the rest of the company, to keep the whole room in order. A harp plays all the time at the lower end of the room; and every now and then one or other of the company rises and entertains the rest with a song, and (by the by) some are good masters. Here is nothing drank but ale, and every gentleman hath his separate mug, which he chalks on the table where he sits as it is brought in; and every one retires when he pleases, as from a coffee-house.

The room is always so diverted with songs, and drinking from one table to another to one another's healths, that there is no room for politics, or any thing that can sour conversation.

One must be there by seven to get room, and after ten the company are for the most part gone.

This is a winter's amusement, that is agreeable enough to a stranger for once or twice, and he is well diverted with the different humours, when the Mugs overflow.

* * * * *

JOY AND SORROW.

The light of heaven unheeded shines, If cloudless be our skies; But when it beams on life's dark clouds, What _rainbow_ beauties rise!

_Lit. Gaz._

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