In fact, the impositions practised in regard to this species of wine fully justifies the reprobation of the writer in the 43d number of the Quarterly Review. “The manufactured trash,” says the judicious critic, “which is selling in London under the names of Cape Champagne, Burgundy, Barsac, Sauterne, &c. are so many specious poisons, which the cheapness of the common and inferior wines of the Cape allows the venders of them to use as the bases of the several compositions, at the expense of the stomach and bowels of their customers.” By mixing these wines with the lees of other kinds, and fining and compounding them with various drugs, they endeavour to counterfeit the more costly vintages of Spain and Portugal, and even France. It is unnecessary to state that the “Old Vidonia Wines,” the “Fine old delicately-pale Bucellas,” and the “Unequalled and beneficial Tent,” for the _sick and infirm, and the offices of our holy religion_, “sold remarkably cheap, for ready money,” by those honest and tender-conscienced gentry, are base substitutes for the genuine articles. To say nothing worse, Tent, Mountain, Calcavella, &c. is Port wine, transmuted by the addition of capillaire, &c. And, from the report of a late case which came on before the Court of King’s Bench, it appears that the scarce and costly Tokay, the Lachryma Christi, and La Crême Divine, are seldom any other than identical Sicilian wines of an inferior description; the current price of which in the market is about twelve pounds sterling per hhd. Oh! friend Bull, how the sophisticating rogues trifle with thy dainty palate! Hadst thou not better rest contented with thy soul-stirring, heart-cheering, _vinum Britannicum_,—thy home-brewed ale, and Sir John Barleycorn, instead of filling thy _dear_ stomach with a medley of foreign slops. Oh, John, when wilt thou learn wisdom and find a loyal pleasure in paying thy quota of tax on articles of home manufacture! Alas! Johnny, thou art a sadly wayward fellow! there is more hope of “the wild ass’s colt” than of thee, when thy longings after foreign luxuries seduce thy palate and blind thy understanding! Nor are the costly French wines less exempt from the devices and sophistications of the imps of the “Father of Deceit.” The “super-excellent” or “genuine Claret of exceedingly fine description and of the choicest quality” of the advertising and placarding dealers, is a composition of inferior claret and a _quantum sufficit_ of Spanish red wine and rough cider, with the colouring berry-dye. The colouring process is sometimes performed by the agency of “black sloes,” “a dozen new pippins,” or a “handful of the oak of Jerusalem,” are often kindly introduced to improve its quality; and to tickle the taste of the consumer of this wine, or of Port, “an ounce of cochineal” is considerately thrown into a hogshead of liquor “to make it taste rough.”