Cum vini penetravit—
Consequitur gravitas membrorum, præpediuntur
Crura vacillanti, tardescit lingua, madet mens,
Nant oculi; clamor, singultus, jurgia gliscunt.
However, from the language of the ancients, we cannot come to the conclusion that Socrates, and other great men who were accused of inebriety, were habitual drunkards, or even that, under the influence of their potations, they were occasionally deprived of their reason. On the contrary, there is every reason to believe that the ancients both ate and drank a great deal during their repasts; and thus mingling their wine and their food, like most of the continental nations, they were less subject to the inconveniences that arose from their indulgence in liquor. Indeed, the term sobriety applies to a proper regulation of our ingesta, according to our constitution and our state of health. Extreme abstinence on some occasions may prove as prejudicial as intemperance; and there are peculiar idiosyncrasies where a certain quantity of stimulus is absolutely requisite to keep up the animal spirits, and at the same time assist assimilations which become languid under mental depression. No doubt, this necessity has arisen from habit,—most probably a very bad habit; still, when it does exist, physicians should be cautious in suddenly forbidding customary indulgences: we must also consider on such occasions the pursuits of different individuals. The laborious classes, who require more frequent refection, from the constant exhaustion to which their avocations expose them, can bear with impunity a moderate use of strong liquors. Such a practice would destroy the sedentary and the studious. Temperance is essentially requisite to perfect not only our intellectual faculties, but many of our physical functions. The senses both of man and the brute creation are rendered much more keen by abstinence. The scent of the dog, the vision of the hawk, are less acute after feeding; and this is one of the chief causes of the greater perspicuity in our ideas when fasting in the morning. The ancients had an axiom founded upon observation, “if you wish to become robust, eat and labour; if you wish to become wise, fast and meditate.” The Greeks called sobriety, σωφροσυνη; or, according to Aristotle, as though they said, σωζουσαν την φρονησιν, it assisted our intellectuals. Plato tells us that Socrates termed this quality σωτηριαν της ψρονησεως, or the health of the mind. Xenophon maintained that it prevented men from spitting or blowing their noses, as we were not in need of superfluities when we decreased the consumption of what was necessary. The ancients looked upon sobriety as a bent bow, that required occasional relaxation.
It is said, but I know not on what authority, that Hippocrates recommended an indulgence in potations once a month. Celsus recommends persons in perfect health not to be too rigorous in their diet; sometimes to fast, and at others to live more freely. In more modern times this supposed precept of Hippocrates has been advocated, and we find two theses on the subject, entitled “Non ergo singulis mensibus repetita ebrietas salubris,” and “Non ergo unquam ebrietas salubris,” by Hammet and Langlois. Zacchias, in his medical questions, asks if a physician can recommend such a departure from the laws of temperance without committing a sin. This query has been also debated by divines. Frederick Hoffmann maintained that poets required this indulgence, and attributes in a great measure the falling off of genius amongst the modern Greeks to the destruction of their vineyards by the Turks. In ancient Iconography we oftentimes find Bacchus placed near Minerva. The allusions of Heathen mythology to drunkenness, its effects, and the means of tempering its influence, are curious. Silenus, the preceptor of Bacchus, although represented as always intoxicated, was a philosopher, who accompanied his pupil in his Indian expedition, and aided him by the soundness of his judgment. Virgil makes him deliver the principles of the epicurean doctrines on the formation of the world, and the nature of things. Ælian gives us his conversation with Midas regarding the unknown world of Plato and other philosophers. He was also considered an able warrior and a wit. Ælian derives his name from Sillainein. The nymphs who follow his train were considered as typical of the water necessary to dilute his potations, and the influence of love in checking intemperance.
Montaigne informs us that the celebrated Sylvius recommended an occasional debauch; and the late Dr. Gregory was of opinion than an occasional excess is, upon the whole, less injurious to the constitution than the practice of daily taking a moderate quantity of any fermented liquor or spirit. Experience, however, does not uphold the doctor’s opinion; and, as I have observed in a preceding article, occasional excesses are far more injurious than habitual indulgences, under which, in the most unfavourable climates, men attain advanced years. An occasional excess actually brings on a state of sickness, which, in persons habitually sober, may not only last for several days, incapacitating them from any pursuit, but be frequently followed by serious accidents. Of course I am not alluding to a constant state of intoxication, which will often bring on delirium, tremor, apoplexy, and other destructive accidents.
The appearances after death in drunkards exhibit great derangement in organic structure. The brain is generally firmer than usual. Serum is not unfrequently found effused in its cavities; and, what is singular, this watery fluid is often impregnated with the odour of the deceased’s potations, such as rum, gin, or brandy. Schrader relates several instances of the kind. Æther has also been detected after the medicine had been freely exhibited. Dr. Ogston states that above four ounces of fluid were found in the ventricles of a drunkard’s brain, that had all the physical qualities of alcohol. He thinks that this effusion takes place previously to the coma of intoxication, as he found it in considerable quantities in two cases of drowning in the stage of violent excitement from spirituous liquors. The mucous coats of the stomachs of drunkards, instead of being “worn out,” according to the vulgar expression, are thickened, and sometimes softened; but in most cases they are found hardened. This condition is not likely to accelerate death; on the contrary, the stomach is less susceptible of the action of stimulating articles of diet, or excess in eating or drinking, than when in a healthy state of excitability. When drunkenness proves fatal, it appears that a portion of the spirituous part of the liquor is actually absorbed and carried into the circulation and the brain. Dr. Copeland has given the following very luminous and correct view of the pathology of drunkenness. “During the general nervous and vascular excitement consequent on the stimulus, increased determination to the head takes place, attended by excited vascular action, which soon terminates in congestion as the excitement becomes exhausted, and gives rise to drowsiness, sopor, and coma. With this state of the disorder effusion of serum takes place in the ventricles and between the membranes, heightening the sopor and coma. When the congestion or effusion amounts so high as to impede the functions of the organs at the basis of the encephalon and of the respiratory nerves, respiration becomes unfrequent and laborious, and consequently the changes produced by it on the blood insufficiently performed. In proportion as the blood is less perfectly changed in the lungs, the circulation through them is retarded, and the phenomena of asphyxy,—congestion of the lungs, right side of the head, brain, and liver; the circulation of unarterialized blood; the imperfect evolution of animal heat, and sedative effects upon the brain and nervous system generally,—follow in a more or less marked degree, according to the quantity of the intoxicating fluid that has been taken, and either gradually disappear after some time, or increase until life is extinguished. These phenomena are heightened by cold, which depresses the vital action in the extremities and surface to which it is applied, and increases the congestion in the above organs. The fatal consequences of intoxication are often averted by the occurrence of vomiting, the stomach thereby being relieved from a great part of the poison.”
Besides wine and spirituous liquors various other substances have been employed to bring on this supposed pleasurable state. The Syrian rue (Peganum Harmala), was constantly used by Sultan Solyman. The Hibiscus Saldarissa of the Indians, which furnishes their bangne, is supposed to be the Nepenthes of the ancients. The Penang or Indian beetle, the Hyosciamus Niger. The Belladonna, the Cocculus Indicus, are drugs that have been resorted to by various nations. The last ingredient has made the fortune of many of our wealthy brewers, at the expense of public sobriety and health.
In the accidents that follow intoxication, bleeding has frequently been resorted to. Nothing can be more hazardous than this practice, justly condemned by Darwin, Trotter, and most physicians, who have had frequent opportunities of witnessing the distressing train of symptoms that inebriety brings on. Coffee and green tea will be found the most efficacious antidotes, when no sickness prevails. Nausea is counteracted by effervescent and aromatic draughts, such as soda-water, (so highly appreciated by Byron, when accompanied by a sermon, after a night’s conviviality,) spruce-beer, Seidlitz powders, &c. The ancients had recourse to various means to counteract the effects of wine, and amongst others we find olives and olive oil, wormwood, and saffron. The Greeks used a solution of salt, a common remedy among seafaring men to the present day; and the Romans surrounded their heads with wreaths of various refreshing plants. When Aristotle tells us that Dionysius of Syracuse remained in a state of intoxication for eighty days, we must suppose that he got drunk every morning.
That the ancients were in the habit of diluting their wine with water, there cannot be a doubt. The Lacedæmonians accused those who drank it pure of acting like Scythians,—an expression introduced ever since Cleomenes the Spartan had learned to drink freely amongst them. The Thracians were also accused of this practice, which clearly proves that it was not general. Philochorus reports that Amphictyon, king of Athens, learned to mix wine and water from Bacchus himself, on which account he dedicated an altar to the god. According to Athenæus, this dilution was of various strength; sometimes in the proportion of one to two, at others of one to five. The Lacedæmonians used to boil their wine till the fifth part was consumed, under the impression that they thus deprived it of its spirituous qualities. Sometimes this boiled wine was laid by for four years.
To add to the intoxicating power of wine various means were resorted to, and a mixture of myrrha was supposed to produce this effect. Such was the murrhina of the Romans, mentioned in St. Mark’s gospel, and which was given to malefactors before their execution.
Notwithstanding the sobriety of the ancients, my fair readers may perhaps be glad to know that the ladies were allowed to indulge in an occasional stoup; and the Greek matrons and virgins were by no means restricted in a moderate use of the grape’s delicious juice, as illustrated by Homer in Nausica and her companions. In the ancient entertainments the first libation was offered up to Vesta, as being, according to Cicero, rerum custos intimarum, or keeper of things most concealed; or, according to Aristocritus, for the services rendered by this goddess to Jupiter in his war against the Giants. However, without any erudite comments, it is very probable that even the poor Vestals were sometimes delighted when they could take a drop of wine to beguile their solitude.