Amongst the bishops one instance must suffice. “Pontus de Thiard,” as appears from an old translation of the works of an eminent Frenchman, “after having repented of the sins of his youth, came to be bishop of Chalons-sur-Soane; but, however, he did not renounce the power of drinking heavily, which seemed then inseparable from the quality of a good poet. He had a stomach big enough to empty the largest cellar; and the best wines of Burgundy were too gross for the subtility of the fire which devoured him. Every night, at going to bed, besides the ordinary doses of the day, in which he would not suffer the least drop of water, he used to drink a bottle before he slept. He enjoyed a strong, robust, and vigorous health, to the age of fourscore.” Dear old Pontus! Of all other mighty men, Alexander the Great serves to best point the moral of the evils of intemperance. Wearied of conquering, this hero gave himself up to debauchery in its worst and wildest forms. He killed his foster-brother in a fit of drunkenness, and subsequently, at the bidding of “lovely Thais,” queen of the {14} Athenian _demi-monde_, set fire to, and burnt to the ground, Persepolis, the wonder of the world. What an awakening Alec must have had! Not that he was the first, nor yet the last, man to make a fool, or rogue, of himself, at the bidding of the (alleged) gentler sex. Cleopatra corrupted a few heroes, and as for La Pompadour ⸺ but those be other stories. Alexander the Great, who had lost most of his greatness by that time, died from the effects of chronic alcoholism; although they didn’t tell me as much as this at school. Cambyses was but little removed from a sot. This prince, having been told by one of his courtiers that the people thought Cambyses indulged in too many “drunks” for the good of the nation, reached for his best bow and his sharpest arrow, and, the courtier having retired out of range, shot the courtier’s son through the heart; after which the prince enquired of the courtier: “Is this the act of a drunkard?” which reminds me of a more modern anecdote, of a Piccadilly roysterer. But some men can shoot straighter, and ride better, and write more poetically, when under the influence of the rosy god; and had this courtier been a man of the world he would not have touched on the subject of ebriation to his prince. For ebriates are but seldom proud of their weaknesses.