And the incident was finished. But what is really the best thing to be done under such sad circumstances? Should the invalid resort to the old remedy, and take at once that “hair of the dog” who bit him overnight? Not invariably. For instance, should British port, or brandy of the desiccated-window-sill (_vide_ a former chapter) have been the _causa teterrima_ of the trouble, nobody, however shaky, would revert to such remedies, the first thing after waking. And frequently it is difficult for the waker to remember _which_ dog it was that assaulted him. I once visited a young friend in his chambers, at the hour of noon, and found him with a sad countenance, seated in an easy-chair faced by a perfect army of assorted bottles. I was about to administer a mild reproof, but he stopped me. “It’s all right, dear old chappie, I’ve been taking a hair of the dog—_you_ know. But I met such a lot of dogs, jolly dogs too, last night, that I’m hanged if I can remember which of ’em bit me!” {202} The ancients cooled their coppers, for the most part, with ale, either small or large. And I am led to the belief that cider, or some preparation of apples, was also used as a pick-me-up, if “melancholy vapours”—a complaint for which Gervase Markham specially recommended cider as a specific—meant the same thing as alcoholic remorse. Search as I may I can find no recipe, no prescription, in old books for “hot coppers.” Can it be that the ancients, who as previously pointed out, were _not_ teetotallers, deceived themselves in protesting before men that they had no sin? Here is an old recipe headed: “_Against Drunkennesse._ “If you would not be drunke, take the powder of _Betany_ and _Coleworts_ mix’t together; and eat it every morning fasting, as much as will lie on a sixpence, and it will preserve a man from drunkennesse.” But this is an alleged preventive of the act, and not a chaser of sorrow from the brow of the unwise partaker. “To quicken a man’s wits,” writes the same Mr. Markham, “spirit and memory, let him take Langdebeefe”—can this mean _langue de bœuf_?—“which is gathered in June or July, and beating it in a cleane mortar; Let him drinke the juyce thereof with warme water, and he shall finde the benefit.” Probably the most useful part of this prescription was the warm water; still it can hardly be regarded as a restorative. {203} Other recipes are before me, for “drawing out bones broken in the head,” and “for the falling of the mould of the head”; but these, apparently, have no concern with the question at issue. But to continue the search—_eureka!_ “_To Cure Spleen or Vapours._ Take an ounce of the filings of steel, two drachms of gentian sliced, half an ounce of carduns seeds bruised, half a handful of centaury tops; infuse all these in a quart of white wine four days, and drink four spoonfuls of the clear every morning, fasting two hours after it, and walking about.”