an, in any cases, oil of vitriol, turpentine, and other materials equally abominable, are to be found in combination with them. That detestable liquor called British gin, is literally compounded of these ingredients: nor are malt liquors, with their multifarious narcotic additions, less thoroughly sophisticated or less detrimental to the health. From these circumstances, two conclusions must naturally be drawn; viz. that inebriating agents often contain elements of disease foreign to themselves; and that all persons purchasing them should endeavour to ascertain the state of their purity, and employ no dealer whose honour and honesty are not known to be unimpeachable. Liquors, even in their purest state, are too often injurious to the constitution without the admixture of poisons.* of coarse unintellectual minds, and of low and animal propensities. They have, in general, a certain rigidity of fibre, and a flow of animal spirits which other people are without. They delight in the roar and riot of drinking clubs; and with them, in particular, all the miseries of life may be referred to the bottle. The drunkard by necessity was never meant by na ture to be dissipated. He is perhaps a person of amiable disposition, whom misfortune has overtaken, and who, instead of bearing up manfully against it, endeavours to drown his sorrows in liquor. It is an excess of sensibility, a partial mental weakness, an absolute misery of the heart, which drives him on. Drunkenness, with him, is a consequence of misfortune; it is a solitary dissipation preying upon him in silence. Such a man frequently dies broken-hearted, even before his excesses have had time to destroy him by their own unassisted agency. The varieties of wine are so numerous as almost to defy calculation. Mr Brande, in his table, gives a list of no less than forty-four different kinds, and there are others which he has not enumerated. Ardent spirits Some become drunkards from excess of indulgence are fewer in number, and may be mostly comprised un- in youth. There are parents who have a common cas der the names of rum, gin, brandy, and whiskey. The tom of treating their childern to wine, punch, and first is the prevailing drink over the West Indies, North other intoxicating liquors. This, in reality, is reguAmerica, and such cities of Great Britain as are in-larly bringing them up in an apprenticeship to drunkentimately connected with these regions by commerce. ness. Others are taught the vice by frequenting drinkThe second is extensively used in Holland and Swit- ing clubs and masonic lodges. These are the genuine zerland, the countries which principally furnish it, and academies of tippling. Two-thirds of the drunkards has found its way pretty generally over the whole of we meet with, have been there initiated in that love of Europe. The third is chiefly produced in Charente intemperance and boisterous irregularity which distinand Languedoc, and is the spirit most commonly found guish their future lives. Men who are good singers in the south. The fourth is confined in a great mea- are very apt to become drunkards and, in truth, most sure to Ireland and Scotland, in which latter country of them are so, more or less, especially if they have the best has always been made. Of malt liquors we naturally much joviality or warmth of temperament. have many varieties. Britain, especially England, is A fine voice to such men is a fatal accomplishment. the country which furnishes them in greatest perfection They are the natural drinks of Englishmen-the vinum Anglicorum, as foreigners have often remarked. Every town of any consequence in the empire has its brewery; and in almost every one is there some difference in the quality of the liquor. Brown stout, London and Scotch porters, Burton, Dorchester, Edinburgh and Alloa ales, are only a few of the endless varieties of these widely-keepers, musicians, actors, and men who lead a rambling circulated fluids. Besides wines, ardent spirits, and malt liquors, there are many other agents possessing inebriating properties. Among others, the Peganum Harmala or Syrian rue, so often used by the sultan Solyman; the Hibiscus Saldarissa, which furnishes the Indian bangue, and from which the Nepenthes of the ancients is supposed to have been made; the Balsac, or Turkish bangue, found on the shores of the Levant; the Penang, or Indian betle; the Hyoscyamus Niger; and the Atropa Belladonna. In addition to these, and many more, there are opium, tobacco, Cocculus Indicus, and the innumerable tribes of liqueurs and ethers, together with other agents of a less potent nature, such as clary, darnel, and saffron. The variety of agents capable of exciting drunkenness is indeed surprising, and in proportion to their number seems the prevalence of that fatal vice to which an improper use of them gives rise. CHAPTER II. CAUSES OF DRUNKENNESS. The causes of drunkenness are so obvious, that few authors have thought it necessary to point them out: we shall merely say a few words upon the subject. There are some persons who will never be drunkards, and others who will be so in spite of all that can be done to prevent them. Some are drunkards by choice, and others by necessity. The former have an innate and constitutional fondness for liquor, and drink con amore. Such men are usually of a sanguineous temperament, * See Accum's Treatise on the Adulteration of Food; Child on Brewing Porter; and Shannon on Brewing and Distillation. Ebriety prevails to an alarming degree among the lower orders of society. It exists more in towns than in the country, and more among mechanics than husbandmen. Most of the misery to be observed among the working classes spring from this source. No persons are more addicted to the habit, and all its attendant vices than the pampered servants of the great. Inn and eccentric life, are exposed to a similar bazard. Husbands sometimes teach their wives to be drunkards by indulging them in toddy and such fluids, every time they themselves sit down to their libations. Women frequently acquire the vice by drinking porter and ale while nursing. These stimulants are usually recommended to them from well-meant_but_mistaken motives, by their female attendants. Many fine young women are ruined by this pernicious practice. Their persons become gross, their milk unhealthy, and a foundation is too often laid for future indulgence in liquor. The frequent use of cordials, such as noveau, shrub, kirsch-wasser, curacoa, and anissette, sometimes leads to the practice. The active principle of these liqueurs is neither more nor less than ardent spirits.* Among other causes, may be mentioned the excessive use of spiritous tinctures for the cure of hypochondria and indigestion. Persons who use strong tea, especially green, run the same risk. The latter species is singularly hurtful to the constitution, producing hysteria, heartburn, and general debility of the chylopoetic viscera. Some of these bad effects are relieved for a time by the use of spirits; and what was at first employed as a medicine, soon becomes an essential requisite. Certain occupations have a tendency to induce drunkenness. Innkeepers, recruiting-sergeants, pugilists, &c., are all exposed in a great degree to templa tion in this respect; and intemperance is a vice which may be very often justly charged against them. Commercial travellers, also, taken as a body, are open to the accusation of indulging too freely in the bottle, al* Liqueurs often contain narcotic principles; therefors their use is doubly improper. though I am not aware that they carry it to such excess as to entitle many of them to be ranked as drunkards. Well fed, riding from town to town, and walking to the houses of the several tradesmen, they have an employment not only more agrecable, but more conducive to health than almost any other dependant on traffic. But they destroy their constitutions by intemperance; not generally by drunkenness, but by taking more liquor than nature requires. Dining at the traveller's table, each drinks his pint or bottle of wine; he then takes negus or spirit with several of his customers; and at night he must have a glass or two of brandy and water. Few commercial travellers bear the employ for thirty years-the majority not twenty.'* Some waiters allege that unmarried women, especially if somewhat advanced in life, are more given to liquor than those who are married. This point I am unable from my own observation to decide. Women who indulge in this way, are solitary dram-drinkers, and so would men be, had not the arbitrary opinions of the world invested the practice in them with much less moral turpitude than in the opposite sex. Of the two sexes, there can he no doubt that men are much the more addicted to all sorts of intemperance. Drunkenness appears to be in some measure hereditary. We frequently see it descending from parents to their children. This may undoubtedly often arise from bad example and imitation, but there can be little question that, in many instances at least, it exists as a family predisposition. Men of genius are often unfortunately addicted to drinking. Nature, as she has gifted them with greater powers than their fellows, seen also to have mingled with their cup of life more bitterness. There is a melancholy which is apt to come like a cloud over the imaginations of such characters. Their minds possess a susceptibility and delicacy of structure which unfit them for the gross atmosphere of human nature; wherefore, high talent has ever been distinguished for sadness and gloom. Genius lives in a world of its own: it is the essence of a superior nature-the loftier imaginings of the mind, clothed with a more spiritual and refined verdure. Few men endowed with such faculties enjoy the ordinary happiness of humanity. The stream of their lives runs harsh and broken. Melancholy thoughts sweep perpetually across their soul; and if these be heightened by misfortune, they are plunged into the deepest misery. To relieve these feelings, many plans have been adopted. Dr Johnson fled for years to wine under his habitual gloom. He found that the pangs were removed while its immediate influence lasted, but he also found that they returned with double force when that influence passed away. He saw the dangerous precipice on which he stood, and, by an unusual effort of volition, gave it over. In its stead he substituted tea; and to this milder stimulus had recourse in his melan choly. Voltaire and Fontenelle, for the same purpose, used coffee. The excitements of Newton and Hobbes were the fumes of tobacco, while Demosthenes and Haller were sufficiently stimulated by drinking freely of cold water. Such are the differences of constitu tion. As good be melancholy still, as drunken beasts and beggars. So says old Burton, in his Anatomy of Melancholy, and there are few who will not subscribe to his creed. The same author quaintly, but justly remarks, If a drunken man gets a child, it will never, likely, have a good brain.' Dr Darwin, a great authority on all subjects connected with life, says, that he never knew a glutton affected with the gout, who was not at the same time addicted to liquor. He also observes, it is remarkable that all the diseases from drinking spirituous or fermented liquors are liable to Thac krah on the Effects of the Principal Arts, Trades an Professions, p. 83. become hereditary, even to the third generation, gradually increasing, if the cause be continued, till the family becomes extinct.'* We need not endeavour to trace farther the remote causes of drunkenness. A drunkard is rarely able to recall the particular circumstances which made him so. The vice creeps upon him insensibly, and he is involved in its fetters before he is aware. It is enough that we know the proximate cause, and also the certain consequences. One thing is certain, that a man who addicts himself to intemperance, can never be said to be sound in mind or body. The former is a state of partial insanity, while the effects of the liquor remain; and the latter is always more or less diseased in its actions. Some authors have spoken of the pleasure of being completely drunk; this, however, is not the most exquisite period. The time is when a person is neither 'drunken nor sober, but neighbor to both,' as Bishop Andrews says in his "Ex-ale-tation of Ale.' The moment is when the ethereal emanations begin to float around the brain-when the soul is commencing to expand its wings and rise from earth--when the tongue feels itself somewhat loosened in the mouth, and breaks the previous taciturnity, if any such existed. What are the sensations of incipient drunkenness? First, an unusual serenity prevails over the mind, and the soul of the votary is filled with a placid satisfaction. By degrees he is sensible of a soft and not unmusical humming in his ears, at every pause of the conversation. He seems. to himself, to wear his head lighter than usual upon his shoulders. Then a species of obscurity, thinner than the finest mist, passes before his eyes, and makes him see objects rather indistinctly. The lights begin to dance and appear double. A gayety and warmth are felt at the same time about the heart. The imagination is expanded, and filled with a thousand delightful images. He becomes loquacious, and pours forth, in enthusiastic language, the thoughts which are born, as it were, within him. Now comes a spirit of universal contentment with himself and all the world. He thinks no more of misery; it is dissolved in the bliss of the moment. This is the acme of the fit-the ecstacy is now perfect. As yet the sensorium is in tolerable order; it is only shaken, but the capability of thinking with accuracy still remains. About this time, the drunkard pours out all the secrets of his soul. His qualities, good or bad, come forth without reserve; and now, if at any time, the human heart may be seen into. In a short period, he is seized with a most inordinate propensity to talk nonsense, though he is perfectly conscious of doing so. He also commits many foolish things, knowing them to be foolish. The power of volition, that faculty which keeps the will subordinate to the judgment, seems tọtally weakened. The most delightful time seems to be that immediately before becoming very talkative. When this takes place, a man turns ridiculous, and his mirth, though more boisterous, is not so exquisite. At first the intoxication partakes of sentiment, but latterly, it becomes mere animal. After this the scene thickens. The drunkard's imagination gets disordered with the most grotesque con. Botanic Garden. ceptions. Instead of moderating his drink, he pours it down more rapidly than ever; glass follows glass with reckless energy. His head becomes perfectly giddy. The candies burn blue, or green, or yellow; and where there are perhaps only three on the table, he sees a dozen. According to his temperament, he is amorous, or musical. or quarrelsome. Many possess a most extraordinary wit; and a great flow of spirits is a general attendant. In the latter stages, the speech is thick, and the use of the tongue in a great measure lost. His mouth is half open, and idiotic in the expression; while his eyes are glazed, wavering, and watery. He is apt to fancy that he has offended some one of the company, and is ridiculously profuse with his apologies. Frequently he mistakes one person for another, and imagines that some of those before him are individuals who are, in reality, absent or even dead. The muscular powers are, all along, much affected: this indeed happens before any great change takes place in the mind, and goes on progressively increasing. He can no longer walk with steadiness, but totters from side to side. The limbs become powerless, and inadequate to sustain his weight. He is, however, not always sensible of any deficiency in this respect: and while exciting mirth by his eccentric motions, imagines that he walks with the most perfect steadiness. In attempting to run, he conceives that he passes over the ground with astonishing rapidity. To his distorted eyes, all men, and even inanimate nature itself, seem to be drunken, while he alone is sober. Houses rcel from side to side as if they had lost their balance; trees and steeples nod like tipsy Bacchanals; and the very earth seems to slip from under his feet, and leave him walking and floundering upon the air. The last etage of drunkenness is total insensibility. The man tumbles perhaps beneath the table, and carried away in a state of stupor to his couch. In this condition he is said to be dead drunk. When the drunkard is put to bed, let us suppose that his faculties are not totally absorbed in apoplectic stupor; let us suppose that he still possesses consciousness and feeling, though these are both disordered; then begins the tug of war;' then comes the misery which is doomed to succeed his previous raptures. No sooner is his head laid upon the pillow, than it is seized with the strongest throbbing. His heart beats quick and hard against the ribs. A noise like the distant fall of a cascade, or rushing of a river, is heard in his ears: sough-sough-sough, goes the sound. His senses now become more drowned and stupified. A dim recollection of his carousals, like a shadowy and indistinct dream, passes before the mind. He still bears, as in echo, the cries and laughter of his companions. Wild fantastic fancies accumulate thickly around the brain. His giddiness is greater than ever; and he feels as if in a ship tossed upon a heaving sea. At last he drops insensibly into a profound slumber. In the morning he awakes in a high fever. The whole body is parched; the palms of the hands in particular, are like leather. His head is often violently painful. He feels excessive thirst; while his tongue is white, dry, and stiff. The whole inside of the mouth is likewise hot and constricted, and the throat often sore. Then look at his eyes-how sickly, dull, and languid! The fire, which first lighted them up the evening before, is all gone. A stupor like that of the last stage of drunkenness still clings about them, and they are disagreeably affected by the light. The complexion sustains as great a chauge: it is no longer flushed with the gayety and excitation, but pale and wayworn, indicating a profound mental and bodily exhaustion, There is probably sickness, and the appetite is totally gone. Even yet the delirium of intoxication has not left him, for his head still rings, his heart still throbs violently; and if he attempt getting up, he stumbles with giddiness. The mind also is sadly depressed, and | the proceedings of the previous night are painfully remembered. He is sorry for his conduct, promises solemnly never again so to commit himself, and calls impatiently for something to quench his thirst. Such are the usual phenomena of a fit of drunkenness. In the beginning of intoxication we are inclined to sleep, especially if we indulge alone. In companies, the noise and opportunity of conversing prevent this; and when a certain quantity has been drunk, the drowsy tendency wears away. A person who wishes to stand out well, should never talk much. This increases the effects of the liquor, and hurries on intoxication. Hence, every experienced drunkard holds it to be s piece of prudence to keep his tongue under restraint The giddiness of intoxication is always greater in darkness than in the light. I know of no rational way by which this can be explained; but, certain it is, the drunkard never so well knows his true condition as when alone and in darkness. Possibly the noise and light distracted the mind, and made the bodily sensations be, for the time, in some measure unfelt. There are some persons who get sick from drinking even a small quantity; and this sickness is, upon the whole, a favourable circumstance, as it proves an ef fectual curb upon them. however much they may be disposed to intemperance. In such cases, it will generally be found that the sickness takes place as soon as vertigo makes its appearance: it seems, in reality, to be produced by this sensation. This, however, is z rare circumstance, for though vertigo from ordinary causes has a strong tendency to produce sickness, that arising from drunkenness has seldom this effect. The nausea and sickness sometimes occurring in intoxication, proceed almost always from the surcharged and disordered state of the stomach, and very seldom from the accompanying giddiness. Intoxication, before it proceeds too far, has a power ful tendency to increase the appetite. Perhaps it would be more correct to say, that inebriating liquors, by stimulating the stomach, have this power. We often see gluttony and drunkenness combined together at the same time. This continues till the last stage, when, from overloading and excess of irritation, the stomach expe's its contents by vomiting. tion. All along, the action of the kidneys is much increased, especially at the commencement of intoxicaWhen a large quantity of intoxicating fluid has been suddenly taken into the stomach, the usual preliminary symptoms of drunkenness do not appear. An instantaneous stupefaction ensues; and the person is at once knocked down. This cannot be imputed to distention of the cerebral vessels, but to a sudden operation on the nervous branches of the stornach The brain is thrown into a state of collapse, and many of its functions suspended. In such cases the face is not at first tumid and ruddy, but pale and contracted. The pulse is likewise feeble, and the body cold and powerless. When re-action takes place, these symptoms wear off, and those of sanguineous apoplexy sncceed; such as turgid countenance, full but slow pulse, and strong stertorous breathing. The vessels of the brain have now become filled, and there is a strong determination to that organ. Persons of tender or compassionate minds are particularly subject, during intoxication, to be affected to tears at the sight of any distressing object, or even on hearing an affecting tale. Drunkenness in such charac ters, may be said to melt the heart, and open up the fountains of sorrow. Their sympathy is often ridicalous, and aroused by the most trifling causes. Those who have a living imagination, combined with this tenderness of heart, sometimes conceives fictitious causes of distress, and weep bitterly at the woe of their own creating. There are some persons in whom drunkenness calla forth a spirit of piety, or rather of religious hypocrisy, which is both ludicrous and disgusting. They become sentimental over their cups; and, while in a state of debasement most offensive to God and man, they will weep at the wickedness of the human heart, entreat you to eschew swearing and profane company, and have a greater regard for the welfare of your immortal soul. These sanctimonious drunkards seem to consider ebriety as the most venial of offences. During a paroxysm of drunkenness, the body is much less sensible to external stimuli than at other times: it is particularly capable of resisting cold. Seamen, when absent on shore, are prone to get intoxicated; and they will frequently lie for hours on the highway, even in the depth of winter, without any bad consequences. A drunk man seldom shivers from cold. His frame seems steeled against it, and he holds ont with an apathy which is astonishing. The body is, in like manner, insensible to injuries, such as cuts, bruises, &c. He frequently receives, in fighting, the most severe blows, without seemingly feeling them, and without, in fact, being aware of the matter, till sobered. Persons in intoxication have been known to chop off their fingers, and otherwise disfigure themselves, laughing all the while at the action. But when the paroxysm is off, and the frame weakened, things are changed. External agents are then withstood with little vigour, with even less than in the natural state of the body. The person shivers on the slightest chill, and is more than usually subject to fevers and all sorts of contagion. External stimuli frequently break the fit. Men have been instantly sobered by having a bucket of cold water thrown upon them, or by falling into a stream. Strong emotions of the mind produce the same effect, such as the sense of danger, or a piece of good or bad news, suddenly communicated. There are particular situations and circumstances in which a man can stand liquor better than in others. In the close atmosphere of a large town, he is soon overpowered; and it is here that the genuine drunkard is to be met with in the greatest perfection. In the country, especially in a mountainous district, or on the seashore, where the air is cold and piercing, a great quantity may be taken with impunity. The highlanders drink largely of ardent spirits, and they are often intoxicated, yet, among them, there are comparatively few who can be called habitual drunkards. A keen air seems to deaden its effects, and it soon evaporates from their constitutions. Sailors and soldiers who are hard wrought, also consume enormous quantities without injury porters and all sorts of labourers do the same. With these men exercise is a corrective; but in towns, where no counteracting agency is employed, it acts with irresistible power upon the frame, and soon proves destructive. A great quantity of liquors may also be taken without inebriating, in certain diseases, such as spasm, tetanus, gangrene, and retrocedent gout. Certain circumstances of constitution make ore person naturally more apt to get intoxicated than another. Mr Pitt,' says a modern writer, would retire in the midst of a warm debate, and enliven his faculties with a couple of bottles of Port. Pitt's constitution enabled him to do this with impunity. He was afflicted with what is called a coldness of stomach; and the quantity of wine that would have closed the oratory of so professed a Bacchanalian as Sheridan, scarcely excited the son of Chatham.'* All kinds of intoxicating agents act much more rapidly and powerfully upon an empty than a full stomach. In like manner, when the stomach is disordered, and subject to weakness, heartburn, or disease of any kind, ebriety is more rapidly produced than when this organ is sound and healthy. The stomach may get accustomed to a strong stimu• Rede's Memoir of the right Hon. George Canning. lus, and resist it powerfully, while it yields to one much weaker. I have known people who could drink eight or ten glasses of raw spirits at a sitting without feeling them much, become perfectly intoxicated by half the quantity made into toddy. In like manner, he who is in the constant habit of using one spirit,-rum, for instance, cannot, for the most part, indulge to an equal extent in another, without experiencing more severe effects than if he had partaken of his usual beverage. This happens even when the strength of the two liquors is the same. | The mind exercises a considerable effect upon drunkenness, and may often control it powerfully. When in the company of a superior whom we respect, or of a female in whose presence it would be indelicate to get intoxicated, a much greater portion of liquor may be withstood than in societies where no such restraints operate. Drunkenness has sometimes a curious effect upon the memory. Actions committed during intoxication may be forgotten on a recovery from this state, and remembered distinctly when the person becomes again intoxicated. · Drunkenness has thus an analogy to dreaming, in which state circumstances are occasionally brought to mind which had entirely been forgotten. The same thing may also occur in fevers, wherein even languages with which we were familiar in childhood or youth, but had forgotten, are renewed upon the memory and pass away from it again when the disease which recalled them is removed. With most people intoxication is a gradual process, and increases progressively as they pour down the liquor; but there are some individuals in whom it takes place suddenly, and without any previous indication of its approach. It is not uncommon to see such persons sit for hours at the bottle without experiencing any thing beyond a moderate elevation of spirits, yet assume all at once the outrage and boisterous irregularity of the most decided drunkenness. Some drunkards retain their senses after the physical powers are quite exhausted. Others, even when the mind is wrought to a pitch leading to the most absurd actions, preserve a degree of cunning and observation which enables them to elude the tricks which their companions are preparing to play upon them. In such cases, they display great address, and take the first opportunity of retaliating; or, if such does not occur, of slipping out of the room unobserved and getting away. Some, while the whole mind seems locked up in the stupor of forgetfulness, hear all that is going on. No one should ever presume on the intoxicated state of another to talk of him detractingly in his presence. While apparently deprived of all sensation, he may be an attentive listener; and whatever is said, though unheeded at the moment, is not forgotten afterwards, but treasured carefully up in the memory. Much discord and ill-will frequently arise from such imprudence. There are persons who are exceedingly profuse, and fond of giving away their money, watches, rings, &c., to the company. This peculiarity will never, I believe be found in a miser avarice is a passion strong under every circumstance. Drinking does not loosen the grasp of the covetous man, or open his heart: he is for ever the same. The generality of people are apt to talk of their private affairs when intoxicated. They then reveal the most deeply-hidden secrets to their companions. Others have their minds so happily constituted that nothing escapes them. They are, even in their most unguarded moments, secret and close as the grave. The natural disposition may be better discovered in drunkenness than at any other time. In modern society, life is all a disguise. Almost every man walks in masquerade, and his most intimate friend very often does not know his real character. Many wear smiles constantly upon their cheeks, whose hearts are unprin cipled and treacherous. Many with violent tempers have all the external calm and softness of charity itself. Some speak always with sympathy, who, at soul, are full of gall and bitterness. Intoxication tears off the veil, and sets each in his true light, whatever they may be. The combative man will quarrel, the amorous will love, the detractor will abuse his neighbour. I have known cxceptions, but they are few in number. At one time they seemed more numerous, but closer observation convinced me that most of those whom I thought drunkenness had libelled, inherited at bottom the genuine dispositions which it brought forth. The exceptions, however, which now and then occur, are sufficiently striking, and point out the injustice of always judging of a man's real disposition from his drunken moments. To use the words of Addison, Not only does this vice betray the hidden faults of a man, and show them in the most odious colours, but often occasions faults to which he is not naturally subject. Wine throws a man out of himself, and infuses qualities into the mind which she is a stranger to in his sober moments.' The well known maxim in vino veritas,' therefore, though very generally true, is to be received with some restrictions, although, these I am satisfied, are by no means so numerous, as many authors would have us to belive. CHAPTER IV DRUNKENNESS MODIFIED BY TEMPERAMENT. Under the last head I have described the usual phenomena of intoxication; but it is necessary to remark that these are apt to be modified by the physical and moral frame of the drinker. Great diversity of opinion exists with regard to the doctrine of the temperaments; some authors affirming, and others denying their existence. Into this controversy it is needless to enter. All I contend for is, that the bodily and mental constitution of every man is not alike, and that on these peculiarities depend certain differences during a paroxysm of drunkenness. II. Melancholy Drunkard.—Melancholy, in drunkards, sometimes arises from temperament, but more frequently from habitual intoxication or misfortune, Sonic men are melancholy by nature, but become highly mirthful when they have drunk a considerable quantity. Men of this tone of mind seem to enjoy the bottle more exquisitely than even the sanguineous class. The joyousness which it excites breaks in upon their gloom like sunshine upon darkness. Above all, the sensations, of the moment when mirth beg.ns with its magic to charın away care, are inexpressible. Pleasure falls in showers of fragrance upon their souls; they are at peace with themselves and all mankind, and enjoy, as it were. a forctaste of paradise. Robert Burns was an example of this variety. His melancholy was constitutional, but heightened by misfortune. The bottle commonly dispelled it, and gave rise to the most delightful images; sometimes, however, it only aggra vated the gloom. III. Surly Drunkard-Some men are not excited to mirth by intoxication: on the contrary, it renders them gloomy and discontented. Even those who in the sober state are sufficiently gay, become, occasionally thus altered. A great propensity to take offence is a characteristic among persons of this temperament. They are suspicious, and very often mischievous. If at some former period they have had a difference with any of the company, they are sure to revive it, although, probably, it has been long ago cemented on both sides, and even forgotten by the other party. People of this description are very unpleasant companions. They are in general so foul-tongued, quarrelsome, and indecent in conversation, that established clubs of drinkers have made it a practice to exclude them from their sə ciety. IV. Phlegmatic Drunkard-Persons of this temperament are heavy-rolling machines, and, like the above, are not roused to mirth by liquor. Their vital actions are dull and spiritless-the blood in their veins as sluggish as the river Jordan, and their energies stagnant as the Dead Sea. They are altogether a negative sort of beings, with passions too mert to lead them to any thing very good or very bad. They are a species of animated clods, but not thoroughly animated-for the vital fire of feeling has got cooled in penetrating their frozen frames. A new prometheus would require to breathe into their nostrils, to give them the ordinary glow and warmth of humanity. Look at a phlegmatic man-how dead, passionless and uninspired is the expression of his clammy lips and vacant eve! Speak to him-how cold, slow, and tame is his conversation! the words come forth as if they were drawn from his mouth with a pair of pincers: and the ideas are as frozen as if concocted in the bowels of Lapland Liquor produces no effect upon his mental powers; or, if it does, it is a smothering one. The whole energies of the drink fall on his almost impassive frame From the first, his drunkenness is stupifying; he is seized with a kind of lethargy, the white of his eyes turns up, he breathes loud and harshly, and sinks into an apoplectic stupor. Yet all this is perfectly harmless, and wears away without leaving any mark behind it. 1. Sanguineous Drunkard.-The sanguine temperament seems to feel most intensely the excitement of the bottle. Persons of this stamp have usually a ruddy complexion, thick neck, small head, and strong muscular fibre. Their intellect is in general mediocre, for great bodily strength and corresponding mental powers are rarely united together. In such people, the animal propensities prevail over the moral and intellectual ones. They are prone to combativeness and sensuality, and are either very good-natured or extremely quarrelsome. All their passions are keen like the Irish women, they will fight for their friends or with them as occasion requires. They are talkative from the beginning, and, during confirmed intoxication, perfectly obstreporous. It is men of this class who are the heroes of all drunken companies, the patron of masonic lodges, the presidents and getters-up of jovial meetings. With them, eating and drinking are the grand ends of human life. Look at their eyes, how they sparkle at the sight of wine, and how their lips smack and their teeth water in the neighbourhood of a good dinner: they would scent out a banquet in Siberia. When intoxicated, their passions are highly excited the energies of a hundred V. Nervous Drunkard -This is a very harmless and ininds then seem concentrated into one focus. Their very tiresome personage. Generally of a weak mind mirth, their anger, their love, their folly, are ali equally and irritable constitution, he does not become boister intense and unquenchable. Such men cannot conceal ous with mirth, and rarely shows the least glimmering their feelings. In drunkenness, the veil is removed of wit or mental energy. He is talkative and food of from them, and their characters stand revealed, as in a long winded stories, which he tells in a drivelling, sally glass to the eye of the beholder. The Roderick Ran- manner. Never warmed into enthusiasm by liquor be dom of Smollett had much of this temperament, blend-keeps chatting at some ridiculous tale, very much in ed, however, with more intellect tnan usually belongs the way of a garrulous old man in his dotage.* to it. Such persons are very apt to be played upon by their companions. There are few men who, in their younger days who have not assisted in shaving the heads and painting the faces of these lethargic drunkards The old gentleman who is represented as speaking, in Bun |