The drinking of the last century went far beyond anything ever recorded; all classes alike drank; they began to drink hard somewhere about the year 1730, and they kept it up for a hundred years with great spirit and admirable results, which we, their grandchildren, are now illustrating. The clergy, grave and sober merchants, lawyers, judges, the most responsible people, drank freely; men about town, officers, Templars, tradesmen drank more than freely; the lowest classes spent all their money in drink, especially in gin, upon which they could get drunk for twopence. In the year 1736 there were 7044 gin-shops in London--one house in six--and 3200 ale-houses where gin was secretly sold. The people all went mad after gin. The dinner-hour was at two for the better sort. Mrs. Glasse plainly shows that the living was extremely good, and that expense among people in easy circumstances was not much regarded where the table was concerned. Certain dishes, as in Tudor days, belonged to certain days, as veal and a gammon of bacon and a tansy pudding on Easter Day, or a roast goose at Michaelmas; red herrings and salt-fish, with leeks, parsnips, and pease in Lent; at Martinmas, salt-beef; at Midsummer, roast beef with butter and beans; at All Saints, pork and souse, "spats and spurling." They were great at puddings--one may find many an excellent receipt, long since forgotten, in Mrs. Glasse. For dessert they had sweetmeats, fruits, liqueurs, such as _ros solis_, rich wines, such as Lisbon and Madeira, or, where there were men in company, port. In the morning they drank tea and chocolate. It is pretty clear that the real business of the day was done before dinner. That, in fact, was the custom up to twenty years ago in certain Yorkshire towns, where everybody dined at two o'clock. The clerks were practically left to take care of the offices in the afternoon, and the masters sat over their wine. It must, one reflects, be a large business indeed where the masters cannot get through their share by two o'clock.