“To every gallon of good Aqua Composita, put two ounces of chosen liquerice, bruised and cut into small peeces, but first clensed from all his filth, and two ounces of Annis seeds that are cleane and bruised. Let them macerate five or six daies in a wodden Vessel, stopping the same close, and then draw off as much as will runne cleere, dissolving in that cleare Aqua Vitæ five or six spoonfuls of the best Malassoes you can get; Spanish cute, if you can get it, is thought better than Malassoes; then put this into another vessell; and after three or foure daies (the more the better), when the liquor hath fined itself, you may use the same; some add Dates and Raisons of the Sun to this receipt: those groundes which remaine, you may redistill, and make more Aqua Composita of them, and of that Aqua Composita you may make more Usquebath.” The distillation of whiskey in Ireland, on a large scale, is of comparatively modern date, the _poteen_ having been manufactured in illicit stills, in inaccessible and unhandy places. Now, Roe’s distillery turns out over two million gallons a year, and Jameson’s more than a million and a half. The whiskey made by these firms, that of Sir John Power & Sons, and some others, is distilled from pure malt; but there are many distilleries that send out a spirit made from molasses, beet-root, potatoes, and other things, which cannot possibly be called whiskey, which has brought Irish whiskey somewhat into disrepute, to the great advantage of the Scotch distillers. Again, unmalted grain is used, which gives a practically tasteless spirit, which is almost entirely deficient in the grateful ethers, and is only so much raw alcohol and water, a very different article to that which occasioned the following verses:— “Oh, Whiskey Punch, I love you much, for you’re the very thing, To level all distinctions ’twixt a beggar and a king. You lift me up so aisy, and so softly let me down, That the devil a hair I care what I wear, a caubeen or a crown. “While you’re a-coorsin’ through my veins I feel mighty pleasant, That I cannot just exactly tell whether I’m a prince or peasant; Maybe I’m one, maybe the other, but that gives me small trouble, By the Powers! I believe I’m both on ’em, for I think I’m seein’ double.”