I've trod thy banner in the dust,
And caused the raven call From thy bride-chamber, to the owl Hatch'd on thy castle wall;
I've made thy minstrels' music dumb, And silent now to fame
Art thou, save when the orphan casts His curses on thy name.
Now thou may'st say to good men's prayers A long and last farewell:
There's hope for every sin save thine— Adieu, adieu, Dalzell!
The grim pit opes for thee her gates, Where punish'd spirits wail,
And ghastly death throws wide her door, And hails thee with a Hail.
Deep from the grave there comes a voice, A voice with hollow tones,
Such as a spirit's tongue would have, That spoke through hollow bones :- "Arise, ye martyr'd men, and shout From earth to howling hell; He comes, the persecutor comes; All hail to thee, Dalzell!"
O'er an old battle-field there rush'd A wind, and with a moan
The sever'd limbs all rustling rose,
Even fellow bone to bone.
"Lo! there he goes," I heard them cry, "Like babe in swathing band, Who shook the temples of the Lord, And pass'd them 'neath his brand. Cursed be the spot where he was born, There let the adders dwell,
And from his father's hearthstone hiss: All hail to thee, Dalzell!"
I saw thee growing like a tree
Thy green head touch'd the sky
But birds far from thy branches built, The wild deer pass'd thee by;
No golden dew dropt on thy bough,
Glad summer scorn'd to grace
Thee with her flowers, nor shepherds wooed
Beside thy dwelling place:
The axe has come and hewn thee down,
Nor left one shoot to tell
Where all thy stately glory grew.
Adieu, adieu, Dalzell!
An ancient man stands by thy gate, His head like thine is gray, Gray with the woes of many years, Years four-score and a day.
Five brave and stately sons were his;
Two daughters, sweet and rare ;
An old dame, dearer than them all,
And lands both broad and fair :
Two broke their hearts when two were slain, And three in battle fell-
An old man's curse shall cling to thee: Adieu, adieu, Dalzell!
And yet I sigh to think of thee,
A warrior tried and true
As ever spurr'd a steed, when thick The splintering lances flew.
I saw thee in thy stirrups stand,
And hew thy foes down fast,
When Grierson fled, and Maxwell fail'd,
And Gordon stood aghast,
And Graeme, saved by thy sword, raged fierce
As one redeem'd from hell.
I came to curse thee-and I weep:
So go in peace, Dalzell.
Hæc comici dicta cave ne malè capias.
They that leave wine for water, if they had a candle in their noddles might peradventure find the way to Gotham.-Dr. Rich. Short's Essay Top Luxρonovias, or of Drinking Water, against those Novelists who prescribed it in England.
WHILE all the grave and wise people in the nation have been arguing one way or another about a diminution of taxation, I have been looking earnestly and anxiously for some indication that the existing duties on wine are to be abated: but vain have been my hopes; and I have at length resolved to speak forth my sense of the matter. Let not, however, any reader fear that I mean to trouble him with any erudite or philosophic diatribe of a politico-economical nature. He shall not hear one word of consumption or production. Not one odious figure shall meet his eye. That very irksome thing, calculation, however advantageous on other occasions, does not serve my present purposes. I stand forward, backed by the authority of lyrists and poets of all ages, to protest against the proscription of that chosen object of their eulogy, the true Nepenthes, wine: I view with alarm the listlessness and infrequency with which the rites of the great divinity of the grape are now performed; and I behold with consternation the accessions of each successive year to the fraternity of water-drinkers, whom I hold in utter abhorrence. As I hear one man after another execrate the perniciousness of earth's
best boon, I can scarce keep my patience, though it is somewhat amusing to think how wine has been voted more and more deleterious, and how the number of its traducers has increased, as that enemy of enjoyment, the Chancellor of the Exchequer, has augmented his imposts. The truth is, without a fable, that the dear
grapes" are called " sour." Every man who considers the matter, must be sensible that the bottle_circulates round our tables with much less velocity than it did when the impulse was supplied by the arms of our grand-sires; and slow as is its motion, the period of rotation is dreadfully curtailed. Instead of the festive revels our ancestors held, three or four glasses are the usual modern measure of potation after the retirement of the ladies. The pitiful precept of Dionysius seems to be literally observed. How little did he know of the joys of the table when he spake thus, "Tres tantùm crateras his qui sanâ sunt mente jubes, primum sanitatis, secundum voluptatis, tertium somni; ulteriùs probri est et luxuriæ." "I would have all people of sense take but three glasses of wine, the first for health, the second for pleasure, the third for sleep;
-more is digraceful voluptuousness." A passage of similar purport has been palmed upon us as old Hesiod's,-it must be an interpolation. Sage and grave as he was (not surpassed by the bye in the excellence of his moral precepts, by any of the long list of authors who have followed him) he was too much of a poet to have been guilty of uttering such an interdict.
Nulla placere diù nec vivere carmina pos
Quæ scribuntur aquæ potoribus.
Hor. 1 Lib. Epist. xix. v. 2.
I heard a worthy Irish peer declare some time ago, that when he was a young man he was despised as a milksop, that he now drinks precise- ly the same quantity of wine, and finds himself shrewdly remarked upon as somewhat too fond of his bottle. Such is the degeneracy of the age, and such the woeful revolution! The good old days of English jollity and conviviality are at an end. It is true, some conceit of the washy, weak French wines is affected-to speak in the quaint phraseology of the 15th century-but there is no hearty, healthy thirst of rich and ge- nerous potent liquor. A dinner party is now a cold and formal affair; it is only sought to gratify the palate; the pestiferous French cookery, and those vinegar wines are the objects of favour: no effort is made to warm the heart, there is no cordial for the blood, nothing to quicken the flow of the affections: that juice which is potent "solvere præcordia virûm" (to open the heart) is despised. A man may now dine with fifty hosts one after another, and be as far from any real friendship or cordial kindness for any of them, as he might after a call of ten minutes' duration in a chill November morning, when one is dis- posed to like neither one's-self nor other people. The hospitality of the pre- sent day is eminently heartless; men do not forget their cares, or their ri- valries and animosities in such kindly intercourse as used to prevail over the bowl. When the gravity and severity of the English character is considered, it is plain that the con- viviality in which we formerly in- dulged was very beneficial. ter is but an indifferent liquor in northern climates and English con- "A Fellow of the stitutions," quoth
College," as is stiled the author of a tract published in the year 1724, with the alluring title of the "Juice of the Grape," and written in a spirit of most commendable earnestness. -The gay and mercurial French- man needs not wine to excite his spi- rits, nor would his disposition allow him to avail himself of its more valuable operation in soothing the heart, in promoting kindness and goodfellowship, and correcting the acerbities of temper. Englishman, however, is apt to be- come stupid, and needs the aid of wine to get rid of his constitutional frigidity. It may be remarked that the manners of the young men of this day are far less lively and agreeable than were those of what is called the old school. Many of them are cold, silent, and apathetic in society: their grandfathers were full of life and glee, and animation. In the com- pany of women, the beau of the last century was assiduous in his efforts to render himself agreeable, and to display all possible vivacity. His attentions were constant and anxious; his countenance was lighted up with cheerfulness and joy; his language was full of fervour and devotion and gallantry. But it is now fashionable, suprême bon ton, to be listless, re- The solicitous served, and mute.
gallantry of the former period is no more, in the presence of beauty, in conversation with the loveliest and fairest; none of the suavity and com- placency natural on the occasion is betrayed: the hand of the brightest belle is received without emotion, and relinquished with indifference. An observation on the trifle of the hour is made with a gravity not less solemn than would beseem the deli- very of a death-bed monition. Ease and freedom have been proclaimed the order of the day-the punctilio and observance of the old regime have been exploded; but the effect has too often been, not that people have indulged their mirth and hu- mour without restraint or controul, but that they have considered them- selves at liberty to be stupid, that they deem themselves absolved from all obligation to amuse, or contribute to the hilarity of society. In public nothing was formerly seen but smiles
perhaps a little forced occasionally -we now sec long faces as dark and
melancholy as the fogs of our northern clime can make them.
All this is part and parcel of the system by which wine is avoided. I have said that I am backed by all the poets in my defence of the grape, and I had it in contemplation to collect the testimonies in its favour from them all, beginning with old Homer himself ("laudibus arguitur vini vinosus Homerus.")
When Homer sings the joys of man, 'tis plain
Great Homer was not of a sober strain.
and to preface my paper with this body of authorities, as was erst the practice of Editors who filled the first-half dozen pages of a book with all the commendations of it which could be gleaned. But the collection I made was so large, that I was forced to forego my plan, and I must content myself with referring to the poets passim-of all ages, and climes they unite in praise of the grape ; "vina fere dulces oluerunt mane Ca- mœnæ." In recommendation of con- viviality, I may cite graver autho- rities. Aristotle himself has pro- nounced that there is a class of vir- tues proper to our intercourse in so- ciety, and that moroseness and gra- vity are not less unbecoming on cer- tain occasions, than levity may be unseemly on others. The most ele- gant and fascinating of moral philo- sophers, Adam Smith, in his beau- tiful exposition of the sympathy of our nature, (see Theory of Moral Sentiments) and the sagacious Hume himself, have spoken of the agreeable qualities, with a due sense of their value and importance. The ultimate object of all labour and trouble is en- joyment; he is not a wise man but a fool who despises mirth and jollity. Machiavel tells in his Flor. Hist. (Book 8) that Cosmo di Medicis de- lighted in the most simple amuse- ments; and our own great Fox has been found actively engaged in a game at bowls with some children. "Narratur et prisci Catonis sæpe mero caluisse virtus." Wine has warmed the virtues of old Cato him- self. The festivities of Bacchus af- ford the truest delight; while en- gaged in them our bosoms thrill with that benevolence, and all those gene- rous sentiments which the businesses and cares of life stifle: it has been said,
And ever against eating cares Lap me in soft Lydian airs. But it has been better and earlier said, "dissipat Evius curas edaces." "Wine dissipates all eating cares." I cannot forbear staying one moment to hint that the epithet (eating) may have been suggested to the poet by the operation which wine has in destroying the appetite, according to the learned fathers of physic. I do not commend indiscriminate conviviality; I must know and have proved the friends in whose company I celebrate the mysteries. But I abhor the man whose soul is a stranger to the joys of social intercourse. In the fable of Pentheus, who was destroyed by Bacchanalians for refusing to join in their revels, the ancients have veiled the just doom of the sullen and unsocial spirit which shuns festivity. While the impulses of interest, and of all the evil passions of our nature are so strong; while our anger, our cupidity, our avarice, our ambition, our envy, our animosities are so strongly excited by the fierce strife of human life, the soothing effect of joining the social board and banquet are most salutary. Socrates compared wine to the soft dew of Heaven, and pronounced it to be given to refresh, nourish, and invigo
rate the affections of men's hearts.
And Cicero makes it a particular ag- gravation of his charges against Mark Antony, that wine itself was inca- pable of soothing and chastening his evil nature.
Sollicitis animis onus eximit, addocet artes. Wine cases and refines the soul.
The earliest annals of us, Britons, from the time that cerevisia was our drink, and of our German remote progenitors, all proclaim the national habits of conviviality. And if the British character be an object worthy of our regard, we ought not to view with indifference the recent revolution in those habits which most directly and materially affect it. Let the sapient philosopher and politician draw auguries from observations beyond the reach of vulgar eyes; but while they determine the duration of one empire, and predict the rise and growth of another, while they mark the puny beginnings of a sect which is hereafter to comprehend millions of proselytes, or foretel the
particle (the soul). I only advocate what the learned Sir Thomas Brown, Knight, of Norwich, designates "a sober incalescence and regular æstu- ation from wine, what may be con- ceived between Joseph and his bre- thren, when the text expresseth they were merry, or drank largely, and whereby, indeed, the commodities set down by Avicenna, viz. alleviation of spirit, resolution of superfluities, and provocation of exsudation may also ensue.' Thus felicitously and perspicuously has the worthy medi- ciner summed up the advantages of the liquor. He has, however, failed to notice, that wine is the true assay of sterling honesty and virtue. As you prove gold and silver, says Plato, by fire, so you may men by wine. To the same purport Eschylus says, brass (of which mirrors were in his day made) may give the outward figure, wine discovers the inward man. I know no man till I see him in his cups. I would trust no man who did not stand the test. I can- not better celebrate the virtues of
extensive prevalence and powerful sway of opinions now doubtfully or timorously expressed; I may be per- mitted to indulge my speculations on the injurious consequences of the modern ada, which I shall English by" thirstlessness." England never will be well, her sailors and soldiers will want courage, our statesmen will want wisdom, our politicians will want ardour, our young men will want gallantry, and our old ones will quickly fall into the grave, if the Chancellor of the Exchequer don't give us our fill of wine. The learned Dr. Whittaker, physician to King Charles the Second, bears his honest attestation to the fact, that the "blood of the grape restores con- sumptive and extenuate bodies to sarcosity, makes withered bodies plump, fat and fleshy, the old and infirm, young and strong-whereas water and small beer drinkers are countenanced more like apes than men. Water is a raw, cold, crude, tasteless and scentless fluid; it ma- nifests no virtues to any of our senses. But wine is a well concocted and pu- wine than by quoting the following rified juice, grateful to the smell, and eloquent and admirable passage from charming to the taste. Te caros the book of Esdras, iii. 19. "Wine οἶνος βελτίων τα πάντα. "In every makes the mind of the king and of respect, wine is better than water,' "the fatherless both one, of the bond says the prince of physicians, Galen himself. 'Tis true, no doubt, the use of wine is, like all the other goods of life, liable to abuse; and, like other things, inost excellent in their nature, it is productive, if improperly and intemperately used, of the most per- nicious results. Nevertheless,
*** Dulce periculum est, O Lenæe, sequi Deum Cingentem viridi tempora pampino. If, however, all the evils of occasional intemperance are fairly taken into account, it may be questioned, whether they exceed the advantages arising from a liberal use of wine. It is also to be observed, that the disuse of the article in entertainments generally, will not have the effect of preventing debauchery-young men will still carouse at a tavern, and, perhaps, the more, rather than the less, for the moderation they feel it necessary, in compliance with the reigning mode, to observe in other places. Far be it from me to recommend the dementation and sopition of reason, and of the diviner
and free man, poor and rich; it turneth all his thoughts to joy and mirth, makes him remember no sorrow or debt, but enricheth his heart, and makes him speak by talents."
In turning over some old books I lately met with a curious and whim- sical book, entitled Wine, Beer, Ale, and Tobacco, a dialogue: it was printed in 1630. Wine and the other commodities in several scenes are introduced asserting their respec- tive claims to dignity and estimation. If their arguments are not in any other way worth notice, they, at least, deserve some consideration as illustrating the literary taste of the age, and showing of what sort were the jokes, at which those who are now swept from existence once chuckled and smiled; they, their bo- dies, their dust, their sepulchres (fata sunt data sepulchris), their names all gone and forgotten.
Beere (as he is written) is introduced making a bad pun on his own He says to Wine, "Beere leave, Sir." The strength of Ale's argument (and it is better than those
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