excess the night before. This purpose appears to have been served also by another of these liqueurs, called spirit of clary. In Shadwell's comedy of "The Scowrers," in the opening scene, Sir William Rant, waking after a night's violent debauch, says to his domestic, "But go into my closet, and fetch me a "bottle of spirit of clary, and a lusty "glass." Ralph, returning, says, "Here's your spirit of clary." In another scene of the same play (Act ii. sc. 1), Tope, bragging of himself, says, "Hem, hem, "I'll scowre in the Mall now, if you will, "without the help of spirit of clary, 'fasting, and in cold blood."

After the Restoration, the passion for these liqueurs extended itself much, and several new waters became very popular. One of these was called aqua mirabilis; the other was the much more celebrated ratafia. Aqua mirabilis, we are told in Smith's "Complete Body of Distilling," was a drink which "cheers the heart." It appears to have been a favourite dose at night. In Durfey's comedy of "The Virtuous Wife," published in 1680 (Act iv. sc. 3), one of the characters, Sir Lubberly, talking of his country mode of passing the day, concludes, "And at night tell old stories, then drink a dose "of mirabilis, go to bed, and snore "heartily." It was a favourite cordial for an old woman; as we learn from Dilke's comedy of "The Pretenders" (1698), in which, at the close of the second act, Nickycrack says, "Come, now, let me "alone with her; I'll take her and give "her a turn or two in the air, and a draw "of aqua mirabilis, which is the life of an old woman, and I'll warrant ye all "will be well again." And so again, in "The Reformation, a Comedy" (Act iv. sc. 1), a nurse recommends this water

"Wil't please you to have a little cordial water, or some aqua mirabilis ?" In the "Ladies' Directory," printed in 1662, we find the following receipt:

"TO MAKE AQUA MIRABILIS. "Take three pints of sack [or, white wine], one pint of aqua-vitæ ; half a pint of the juice of cellondine; cloves, mace, nutmegs, ginger, citbebees [cubebs], cardumus, gallingal, mullets [mellilot flowers], one dram of each of No. 66.-VOL. XI.

these; lay all these to steep in a glass still all night, close covered, and the next day still it:

it is a most delicious cordial."

At the earlier period of the history of strong waters," England appears to have been richer in the number and variety of liqueurs than France or any other country on the Continent-perhaps through the ingenuity and industry of

the fair matrons who ruled our households. In the "Distiller of London," in 1639, thirty-two different waters are enumerated. Subsequently, however, most of the new varieties were introduced from France. Such was the spirit of clary, just mentioned, called in French eau clairette, but derived from Italy, and composed chiefly of cinnamon, rosewater, and sugar, with brandy. Such was the ros solis, so named from a plant which formed its chief ingredient, and much beloved by Louis XIV. Such, especially, were the ratafias, or (in the French form of the word) ratafiats, which appear to have been introduced into England in the time of Charles II. The ingredients in the older liqueurs had been principally herbs; in the ratafias they were fruits, and especially kernels, or fruits and kernels mixed. What we now call noyeau would be a ratafia. Ratafia, once brought hither, soon became a favourite liqueur with our English ladies of fashion. Pope says of

the fine woman of his time,-
"Or who in sweet vicissitude appears,

Of mirth and opium, ratafia and tears,
The daily anodyne, and nightly draught,
To kill those foes to fair ones, time and
thought."
Moral Essays, Ep. ii.

And Cibber, in his comedy of the "Double Gallant," brought out in 1707 (Act i. sc. 2), introduces one of his characters, Sir Solomon, talking of his wife's extravagance,- "She will cer"tainly ruin me in china, silks, ribbons, "fans, laces, perfumes, washes, powder, "patches, jessamine, gloves, and ratafia;" to which Supple replies: "Ah! sir, that's a cruel liquor with 'em." In Wilkinson's comedy of the "Passionate Mistress," 1703 (Act iii. sc. 1), Apish says, "I vow 'tis as familiar to me as ratafia to a lady."

I I

The period extending from the Restoration to the reign of George I. was the bright age of English comedy. The comedies of that period are infinitely and skilfully varied in their plots, full of brilliant wit and humour, Aristophanic in their satire, except that living characters are not brought on the stage by name, and hardly less than Aristophanic in their licentiousness. They are, however, so far personal that they are the most admirable pictures of contemporary life that we possess, and they have the advantage of entering into all its minuteness. In these comedies we are often introduced into the private society of our fair countrywomen; and "strong waters" play no small part in the scene, for the ladies of those days loved their spirit-bottle. We learn from Shadwell's "Squire of Alsatia " (1688), that they often carried "a silver strong-water bottle" about with them. The bottle was commonly used in secret. In Estcourt's "Fair Example" (1706), when Springlove asks, "Where is she?" Flora replies, "In her closet, with "In her closet, with Seneca in one hand, and her bottle of spirits in t'other" (Act v. sc. 1). "If," says one of the characters in Montfort's "Greenwich Park," 1691 (Act iv. sc. 4), "If she have any comfortable waters, "I'll drink her into compliance." In Tom Durfey's "Richmond Heiress," we have a scene (Act ii. sc. 1) in which the following bit of dialogue occurs :—

"Madam Squeamish. I did but innocently regale myself t'other day, amongst other choice female friends, at my Lady Goodfellow's, with a glass or two of Hockamore [a sort of wine], and, if the beastly poet, in his next paper, did not say I was drunk there, I'm no Christian! O filthy!

Sophronia. Drunk, indeed, was a little too uncourtly: mellow had been a good word there; for to my knowledge there were six quarts drunk in two hours between four of ye, besides my lady's farewell bottle of aqua mirabilis.

Mrs. Stockjob. Vell, dis I must say of de French, dey are de most temperate people in de whole varld; l'homme du cour delights in nothing but de cool mead, de tizzan, or de sherbet vid ice.

Sophr. Yes, the comfortable usbuebagh, the refreshing spirit of clary, or sometimes the cool brandy and burrage, good Mrs. Stockjobb."

It appears that the confirmed dramdrinkers preferred pure brandy, and that this was especially the favourite drink of ladies who had reached a certain A character in the play last quoted says,

66

66

age.

Gad, I believe the old Sibil has been "regaling herself with a gill or two of brandy after dinner" (Act iii. sc. 1). In Tate's "Cuckolds' Haven, 1685 (Act i. sc. 2), Quicksilver, speaking also of an old woman, says, "I'd raise her with aqua-vitæ out of old hogsheads." And another old dame, Mrs. Mandrake, in Farquhar's "Twin Rivals" (Act ii. sc. 2), is made to say, "There is nothing more "comfortable to a poor creature, and "fitter to revive wasting spirits, than a "little plain brandy. I an't for your hot "spirits, your rosa-solis, your ratafias, your

orange-waters, and the like; a moderate 'glass of cool Nantes is the thing." There is a scene in Dennis's comedy, “A Plot and no Plot," written in the closing years of the reign of King William IIL (Act iv. sc. 1), which is curiously illustrative of this practice of brandy drinking. Frowzy, an old camp-follower, is employed to deceive, in the disguise of a lady of rank, a city usurer named Bull; and in their first interview he offers her brandy :—

"Bull. Madam, 'tis the very best in the three kingdoms. Here, sirrah, [to his man] take the key of my closet, and bring the twoquart bottle of brandy to the countess. (Enter Greg. with the brandy.) Sirrah, fill a glass. Madamı, my hearty service to you...

Frowzy. Mr. Bull, on the other side of the water this liquor is grown mightily in use among women of my quality. Do they use it here!

Bull. Gadsbud, madam, they drink nothing else. Formerly, saving your ladyship's presence, only so-and-so drank brandy, but now some great ladies have taken to their liquor. Does your ladyship mind the colour of that brandy?

Frowzy. A lovely complexion indeed. . . . (She smells to the glass.)

Bull. How does your ladyship like the flavour?

Frowzy. A most alluring flavour, in troth. Come, sir, my daughter's health to you. (Drinks.) Upon my honour, this is right Nantz: I warrant this costs you ten and eightpence a gallon at least. At the last conference that I had abroad for the publick benefit, there was some quantity of it drunk; since I have tasted nothing like it. As Cad shall judge me, this is a treasure.”

There were various methods practised by the ladies to disguise the liquor they were drinking; one of which occurs in Durfey's Marriage-Hater Matched," where (Act iii. sc. 2) we are introduced to a party of fashionable ladies at tea, at which, a new visitor arriving, she is greeted as follows:

66 Lady B. Ah, sweet Mrs. La Pupsey, here, prithee take some tea; 'tis good now y'are hot. La Pup. Tea, madam; 'tis burnt brandy! Lady B. Why, that's all the tea in fashion now, fool."

In Steele's "Funeral," 1702 (Act iii.), a party of ladies pay their visit of condolence to a widow, who counterfeits great grief and pretends to faint, exclaiming, "Alas, alas! oh! oh! I swoon, I expire!" One of the ladies calls to another, "Pray, Mrs. Tattleaid, bring something that is cordial to her." Mrs. Tattleaid immediately brings bottles and glasses; the widow forgets her sorrow; and they all fall to drinking and scandal. There is a somewhat similar scene in Baker's "Act at Oxford," 1704 (Act ii. sc. 2):

"Arabella. At the door, ah! (Affects a swoon.)

Berynthia. Bless me! she faints! a glass of cold water there.

Ara. (recovering). No water, 'no water, Berynthia! have you any good rosa solis?

Ber. Follow me into my closet, and I'll give you a dram of the best rosa solis, the best ratafia, or the best plain brandy.

Ara. Then thou art the best of women."

Sir Jealous Traffick, in the "Busie Body" (Act ii.), describes the effect of these various waters when he says, "No, mistress, 'tis your high-fed, lusty, "rambling, rampant ladies that are "troubled with the vapours; 'tis your "ratafia, persico, cynamon, citron, and "spirit of clary, cause such swi-m-ing "in the brain, that carries many a guinea "full tide to the doctor." And in Congreve's "Way of the World," 1700 (Act iv. sc. 5), Mirabell, prescribing to his intended wife her behaviour after marriage, says, with regard to the tea-table, "that on no account you encroach upon "the men's prerogative, and presume to

"drink healths, or toast fellows; for pre"vention of which I banish all foreign "forces, all auxiliaries to the tea-table, as "orange-brandy, all aniseed, cinnamon, "citron, and Barbadoes waters, together “with ratafia and the most noble spirit "of clary-but, for cowslip wine, poppy "water, and alldormitives, those I allow." Aniseed was one of the earliest of these cordials, and retained its popularity longest; for it stands at the head of all the books of receipts for making "waters" from the latter end of the sixteenth century to the middle of the last, and is still a favourite liqueur in France under the name of anisette. Cherry-brandy, too, was a very favourite liqueur from an early period, and is one of the few which have outlived its companions. Congreve's play last quoted contains an amusing scene (Act iii. sc. 1), in which Lady Wishfort appears at her toilet with her maid Peg:

"Lady Wish. Fetch me the red-the red, do you hear, sweetheart? .

Peg. The red ratafia, does your ladyship mean, or the cherry-brandy?

Lady Wish. Ratafia, fool? no, fool; not the ratafia, fool.-Grant me patience! I mean the Spanish paper, idiot; complexion, darling. Paint, paint, paint, dost thou understand that?.

Peg. Lord, madam, your ladyship is so impatient! I cannot come at the paint, madam; Mrs. Foible has lock'd it up, and carry'd the key with her.

Lady Wish. A plague take you both! Fetch me the cherry-brandy then. (Exit Peg.) Wench, come, come, wench, what art thou doing? sipping? tasting?-Save thee, dost thou not know the bottle?

(Enter Peg, with a bottle and China cup.) Peg. Madam, I was looking for a cup. Lady Wish. A cup! save thee, and what a cup hast thou brought! Dost thou take me for a fairy, to drink out of an acorn? Why didst thou not bring thy thimble? Hast thou ne'er a brass thimble clinking in thy pocket with a bit of nutmeg, I warrant thee? Come, fill, fill-so-again. See who that is (one here, under the table. What, would'st thou knocks). Set down the bottle first. Here, go with the bottle in thy hand, like a tapster? As I'm a person, this wench has lived in an inn upon the road, before she came to me."

At the beginning of the eighteenth century, many of the old liqueurs had become, or were becoming, obsolete, and

existed only in name. The aqua mirabilis, which "cheered the heart," was made till the middle of the last century. Such was the case also with Dr. Stephens's water, which, according to a book printed at the date last mentioned, was then "in great demand in London." In the same book we learn that "Ratafia is not "much in demand, save in some particular "places where it has gain'd a great reputa"tion." Yet, in a later publication, the second edition of which, now before me, was printed in 1769, and which is entitled the "Professed Cook "-an adaptation "to the London Market" of a French book entitled "Les Soupers de la Cour"-we have still receipts for making "ratafiats," which are explained as meaning, in English, "sweet drams or cordials." In this book we have "ratafiats" of noyaux, of lemon-peel, of juniper-berries, of muscadine grapes, of anniseed, of apricocks (as this fruit was still called in England), of walnuts, of orange-flowers, and of cherries.

While many of the liqueurs previously in vogue were disappearing from fashionable society, a few new ones were intruding themselves into the list. The balance, however, was in favour of the past. Among the new ones was "honeywater," which was perhaps the metheglyn of the Welsh. Another liqueur, which was very fashionable during the earlier half of the last century, was called Hungary water; or, when its title was given more in full, the Queen of Hungary's water, because it was the reputed invention of a Hungarian queen. It was flavoured with herbs, especially rosemary, lavender, margeram, sage, and thyme. Another liqueur of the last century was named cardamum, or (popularly) "all fours," and was distilled from clove, caraway, and coriander seeds. But a "water" was introduced to the early part of the eighteenth century, which was destined to obtain a greater name and a greater popularity than all the rest. At first this new invention, which was brought from Holland, appears to have been known merely by the name of "juniper water," because it was flavoured with the juniper berry.

It was better known, for some reason which is not quite clear, by the French name for the tree, genièvre, which was ordinarily corrupted to Geneva; and both were soon abbreviated into the popular name of gin. But, like everything popular, this liquor, at its first start, gained a number of aliases. "Geneva," says a work on distillery, published before the middle of the last century, "hath "more several and different names and "titles than any other liquor that is sold "here: as double Geneva, royal Geneva, "celestial Geneva, tittery, collonia, strike"fire, &c., and has gain'd such universal "applause, especially with the common "people, that, by a moderate computation, "there is more of it in quantity sold daily, "in a great many distillers' shops, than "of beer and ale vended in most public"houses." We might easily add to the list of popular names here given to gin in the earlier part of the last century. Bailey's Dictionary gives us, as synonyms -the first, more correctly-titire, royal poverty, and white tape, with an "&c." We can perfectly understand all this multiplicity of popular names and titles when we consider that previously the liqueurs, the "strong waters," had been mostly out of the reach of the lower classes of society, who were obliged, perhaps fortunately, to content themselves with the old English beverages, ale and beer. Gin was a spirit which could be sold cheap enough to come within the reach of the vulgar, and the consequence was a great rivalry between the old beer and the new gin. The almanack of "Poor Robin," for the year 1735, expresses this feeling of rivalry in its usual doggrel style in the following lines:

"The winter's now a-coming in,
And Pocus loves a glass of gin;
Or, if it have another name,
The liquor still remains the same;
And, which is more, its virtues hold,
Be weather hot, or be it cold;
It melts the money down like wax,
And burns the garments from their backs."

Hogarth's celebrated engravings of Beer Street and Gin Lane were published in 1751; and the exaggeration on both sides

is so strong that we can hardly look upon Hogarth otherwise than as an advocate on the part of beer versus gin. In the latter years of the reign of George I. and in the earlier years of George II. the drinking of spirituous liquors, chiefly gin, was carried to such an excess that the moralists began to prognosticate a general dissolution of society. The town was filled with miserable little shops in which they were retailed, and troops of itinerant hawkers carried them about the streets. The government of the day, influenced by the declamations of the zealous moralists and by the presentments of grand juries, resolved to interfere; but, instead of attempting to regulate and moderate the sale of spirits, they sought to suppress it altogether; and, in 1736, the celebrated Gin Act was passed, in the preamble to which it is stated" that the drinking of spi"rituous liquors, or strong waters, is 66 become very common, especially among "people of lower and inferior rank." To remedy this, a very heavy duty was levied upon all spirituous liquors, which was equivalent to a prohibition; and a no less heavy fine was levied on all persons who infringed or evaded the Act. The hawkers of "strong waters," whether male or female, were ordered to be "stript "naked from the middle upwards, and "whipt until his or her body be bloody." This measure encountered strong opposition at the time, and there were people who proclaimed publicly that it was contrary to Magna Charta and to the liberties of the subject. But there was a much more serious evil attendant upon it. While the result was not at all that which the advocates of the act expected for the sale of spirituous liquors was not suppressed, but merely thrown into the hands of a low and dishonest class-it exposed respectable people to persecution of a most frightful character. As the rewards for informations against those who infringed the act were considerable, society was invaded by gangs of infamous wretches who made a living by informing; and, as their statements were taken upon their own oaths, nobody was safe. Individuals were found who did

not hesitate to revenge themselves by laying false informations against those who had offended them. Thus the Gin Act became more and more unpopular, until, after a very unsatisfactory trial of six years, the prohibition duties were repealed in 1742, and moderate duties substituted in their place.

Among the pamphleteers who engaged in the heat of the gin controversy, some tried to give it a political character. "Mother Gin" represented the populace, the mob. "The Life of Mother Gin" appeared in 1736 from the pen of an anonymous writer, who claimed the title-claimed by everybody who had no claim to it-of "an impartial hand." This remarkable matron was, we are told, of Dutch parentage, born in Rotterdam. Her father had been active in the faction opposed to the De Witts, and on that account had left his country and settled in England, where he obtained an act of naturalization and married an English woman of low rank. It will easily seem that there is much quiet and clever satire in all this. In spite of her low origin, the wife of the emigrant boasted of a rather large acquaintance among ladies of rank; "and, as to Mother "Gin herself, though she did not live in a constant intercourse of friendship with 'persons of fashion, yet she was often "admitted into their confidence, and was "universally admired, and even idolized, "by the common people." Her father wished to give her a good education, but her English mother objected to it, judging that education was only detrimental to morals. Her father died when she was five-and-twenty, and her mother survived but a short time, and, as they were both dissenters, they were buried in the same grave in Bunhill Fields.

Although her parents were very lowchurch indeed, Mother Gin herself was high-church in her principles, and was a great and effectual supporter of Dr. Sacheverell Indeed, her zeal in his cause contributed greatly to the change of the administration. The new ministry formed a just estimate of the political value of Mother Gin, and laboured to conciliate her, the more so as she was a bitter