CHAP. x.x.xI.

FIFTH RULE, TO FORCE NO ONE TO DRINK.

It is very ridiculous and unreasonable to force any one to drink, because the taking away liberty spoils company, the benefit of which cannot subsist without freedom. Besides, every man's capacity of drinking is not the same; one shall be able to drink a gallon, and another a pint; the latter, therefore, by drinking a pint, has drank as much as the former when he has taken off his gallon, because they both have drank as they can, and ------ Ferdinando ------ No man can do more than he can do. Let every man, therefore, have the liberty to drink as he pleases, without being tied up to the mad laws of drinking. I am of the same opinion in this matter with brother Horace:--

------------ Prout cuiq; libide est Siccat inequales calices conviva solutus Legibus insanis, sen quis capit acria fortis Pocula, seu modicis humescit laetius----[a]

We learn from history, that there was an ancient law amongst the Persians, that forbad anyone to force another to drink. The Lacedemonians also had that laudable custom.

Charlemagne also made a law, that prohibited forcing any one to drink.

Mr. Bayle reports a very pleasant revenge that M. Peyren gave to Raphael Thorius, a very learned person, who would force him to drink, which take as follows. "[1]M. Peyren dining at London with several persons of learning, could not be discharged from drinking a health that Dr.

Thorius toasted. The gla.s.s was of a prodigious size, which M. Peyren, for that reason, a long while refused, and alleged a thousand reasons, but all in vain; he must empty the gla.s.s. Before he did it he made this agreement with his antagonist, that he should drink a health afterwards that he should toast to him; which being consented to, he took off the b.u.mper, and filled the gla.s.s full of water, and drank it off to the doctor, who thereupon was thunderstruck, but seeing he could not get off, sighed deeply, and lifted the gla.s.s a thousand times to his lips, and as often drew it back again: he called to his a.s.sistance all the quaint sayings of the Greek and Latin poets, and was almost the whole day drinking that cursed b.u.mper."

This is not much unlike what M. Chevreau reports of Marigni, who, "[2]after having dined at one of the best eating-houses in Frankfort, with six or seven persons of quality, was called to the sideboard, where one of them began the emperor's health. This he must drink, and as he foresaw very well, that this extravagance would be attended with others, he ordered three or four great pieces of bread to be brought to him, and having eaten half of one to the health of the king of France, he gave the other half to the other, who took it, indeed, but would not so much as put it to his mouth. The company surprized at so unexpected a novelty, let him alone without any contradiction."

Nevertheless, one should be very diligent in observing this rule, which is, That when we find ourselves in the company of people that drink, and would not run those lengths they are going to do, to retire; and this was a standing law amongst the Greeks in their festivals, and ought to be as unalterable as the laws of the Medes and Persians, viz.

DRINK, OR GO ABOUT YOUR BUSINESS.

[[Footnote a: Horace, _Satires_ II.6.67-70.]]

[Footnote 1: Diction, p. 2875. Art. Thor.]

[Footnote 2: Chevraeana, t. ii. p. 188.]

CHAP. x.x.xII.

SIXTH RULE, NOT TO PUSH DRUNKENNESS TOO FAR.

It is certain, that to do well, we ought continually to have an eye to this maxim of Horace, viz. _Est modus in rebus_. And the _Ne quid nimis_ of Terence; but especially, in this grand and most important affair of drunkenness. Seneca very well distinguishes two sorts of drunkenness, one which entirely _buries_ our reason; and the other, which only _diverts_ melancholy and chagrin. The last we believe to be very lawful; but we would have it go farther, even so far, as not only _to divert_, but to _drive away_ our cares entirely, or else not to get drunk at all.

That which is between these, if any such there can be, does one an injury, according to the poet:--

Aut nulla ebrietas, aut tanta sit ut tibi curas Eripiat, si quae est inter utramque nocet.[a]

After this manner would we have people use the juice of the grape; that is, to go so far as to make our hearts merry, gay, and sprightly, and so as to forget our cares.

It would be here useless to shew, by a great many examples, the disorders that drunkenness has caused, when pushed too far, because it was never the intention of this work, but to divert (as wine was designed to do) and make merry, I shall therefore conclude the whole with an Ode to Bacchus, as follows:--

[[Footnote a: Ovid, _Remedium Amoris_ 809-810.]]

AN ODE TO BACCHUS.

I.

Let's sing the glories of the G.o.d of wine, May his immortal praise Be the eternal object of our song, And sweetest symphonies; may ev'ry tongue And throat sonorous, vocal music raise, And ev'ry grateful instrument combine To celebrate, great G.o.d, thy power divine.

Let other poets to the world relate, Of Troy, the hard, unhappy fate; And in immortal song rehea.r.s.e, Purpled with streams of blood the Phrygian plain; The glorious hist'ry of Achilles slain, And th' odious memory of Pelop's sons revive in verse.

II.

G.o.d of the grape, thou potent boy, Thou only object of our cordial vows, To thee alone I consecrate my heart, Ready to follow thee in ev'ry part: Thy influence sweet mirth bestows, For thee alone I'd live and die in scenes of joy.

Thy bounty all our wishes still prevents; Thy wond'rous sweetness calms to soft repose Our wild regrets and restless woes, And richly ev'ry craving mind contents.

Without thee Venus has no charms; You constancy to am'rous souls impart, And hopes bestow to each despairing heart,

III.

But, what involuntary transports roll, And seize, at once, my agitated soul!

Into what sacred vale! what silent wood!

(I speak not by the vulgar understood,) Am I, O G.o.d! O wond'rous deity!

Ravish'd, brimful of thy divinity and thee!

To my (once infidel) believing eyes Bacchus unveils entire his sacred mysteries.

Movements confus'd of joy and fear Hurry me I know not where.

With boldness all divine the G.o.d inspires; With what a pleasing fury am I fill'd!

Such raging fires Never the Menades in Thracian caves beheld.

IV.

Descend, O mother-queen of love, Leave a while the realms above; With your gay presence grace the feast Of that great G.o.d, who bears a boundless sway, Who conquer'd climates where first rose the day.

Descend, O mother-queen of love, At rich repasts an ever welcome guest; But O ----, too long you stay, Already young Amyntor, brisk and gay, His lovely Doris o'er the plain pursues: The sparkling juice at Sylvan nymphs command Richly distils from their ambrosial hand, And old Silenus copiously bedews.

V.

Hence, ye profane, I hate ye all, fly, quit the field, My ready soul gives way To those gay movements, this important day Inspires, so to the conq'ror willing captives yield.

Come, faithful followers of Bacchus' train, (Bacchus, most lovely of the G.o.ds) Enter these bless'd abodes.

On high his verdant banners rear, And quick the festival prepare.

Reach me my lute, a proper air The chords shall sound; the trembling chords obey, And join to celebrate this glorious day.

VI.

But 'midst the transports of a pleasing rage Let's banish ever hence, By a blind vapour rais'd, and vain pretence, Those loud seditious clamours that engage Only inhuman, brutish souls, By barb'rous Scythians only understood, Who cruelly their flowing bowls At banquets intermix with streams of blood.

Dreadful, preposterous, merriment!

Our hands all gayly innocent, Ought ne'er in such confusion bear a part, Polluted with a savage Centaur's mortal dart.

VII.

From this sweet innocent repast, (Too exquisite, alas! to last) Let's ever banish the rude din of arms, Frightful Bellona, and her dread alarms.