In the year 1807, a paragraph appeared in almost all the London daily papers, asserting that porter, brewed in London, contained deleterious drugs. The London porter brewers, indignant at the “_unjust_ and _causeless_” accusation, had a meeting, and one and all agreed to prosecute the offending journalists. They of course made affidavits, and complied with all the requisites of the law to establish their “_innocence_.” They moved the Court of King’s Bench for criminal informations against three-fourths of the daily press, and their Counsel made long speeches on “the guilt and unfounded and malicious libels of their accusers.” All looked well for obtaining a verdict of guilty against the denouncers of fraud and villany, and establishing the _purity_ and _justice_ of “the brewing interests,” by the verdict “of an impartial and intelligent jury,” had not the late Lord Ellenborough declared the affidavits of the swearing-brewers insufficient, as the cunning varlets had only denied the introduction of deleterious ingredients _in_ brewing; whereas, to ground their application and entitle them to the rule, they should have denied having used them _after_ the beer was brewed. But as the pillory might have stared the honest gentry in the face had they made this “_hard_” assertion in their affidavit, the _knowing_ folks here broke down; they could go no further. After making the town echo with the cries of “the infamous press,” they prudently dropped all proceedings against the proscribed journalists. The inference to be drawn is not difficult to surmise; but the fact is, that the publicans, who have of late been so sharply prosecuted by the Excise for adulterating their beer, can best answer the question: From whom did they learn the respectable art of beer-sophistication? Was it not from their “betters,” the “beer-mongers?” If the foregoing statement of ingredients contained in the above infernal list is not sufficient to induce thee, friend Bull, to lay aside thy incredulity, and open thy eyes to the frauds that are daily practised on thy unsuspecting nature, I can only add that one of the “craft” (see Child, on Brewing, p. 18) tells thee that porter cannot be made of the necessary flavour and taste to suit the Londoner’s appetite, and of the proper colour to tickle his fancy by its appearance, of wholesome malt and hops, and that those simple ingredients would not furnish a profit sufficient to satisfy the modern brewer’s cupidity. Well may the old ladies exclaim (and no doubt, Mr. Bull, thou hast a penchant for displaying thy Latinity) O _trickery_! O _mouthes_!