In the next place, wine is a sovereign remedy against a particular species of sorrow or chagrin, I mean a sort of inward wearisomeness, which the French call ennui. I shall explain myself a little farther, and for my expositor I cannot make choice of a fitter person than Mr. de St. Evremont[4], who, after having discoursed a little on this subject, adds, “That good cheer with one’s friends, is a sovereign remedy against this kind of chagrin; for besides that conversation at such times becomes more free and gay, it insensibly sweetens it. It is certain that wine rouses up the forces of nature, and gives our soul a vigour capable to drive away all sorts of uneasiness. I know very well that certain morose people, at least externally so, and in appearance, will shew a great deal of aversion for a remedy, the delights of which they do not, however, too much despise. But all grimace aside. I don’t trouble myself with their ill-understood severities, since the most severe philosopher in the world has advised us to make use of this remedy; and the most morose of our illustrious men have submitted, if we may say so, their most austere virtues to the charms of this sweet pleasure; and the most well-bred people have not disdained its usage.”
In a word, (I must speak a little French now and then,)
[5]Le vin fait que les annees,
Nous durent moins que les journees.
Wine makes whole years to pass away,
And seem much shorter than one day.
But it does more than all this, it even assuages choler; it is an admirable cataplasm for rage. To cite a vast number of examples to prove this important truth would be superfluous. Amongst the many illustrious ones I could instance, I shall content myself to mention that of the Emperor Maximin[6], who, having been declared an enemy to the people of Rome, by the senate, fell into such a rage and fury, that no other way could be thought on to bring him back to his natural temper than by making him drunk.
But let us return to the two principal qualities of wine, which consist in driving away care and sorrow, and exciting mirth and joy.
A certain French author[7] has a few verses on this subject, which, as not mal-apropos, I shall here insert. Talking of the good qualities of wine, he says,—
“Tu sais, mon cher Thirsis, qu’il a le privilege