Pliny—whose works contain almost as much general information as Whitaker’s Almanack—tells us that the western nations got drunk with certain liquors made with fruits; and that those liquors have different names in Gaul and Spain, though they produce the same effect. Ammianus Marcellinus reports that “the Gauls having no wine in their country”—only fancy what a country France must have been to live in without champagne and claret, not to mention burgundy and cider—“though they are very fond of it, contrive a great many sorts of liquors which produce the same effect as wine.” The Scythians, too, had no wine, but got “for’ard” {23} just the same. One of their philosophers, upon being asked if they had nobody who played the flute in Scythia, replied that “they had not so much as any wine there.” Which seems to hint to flute-playing being a thirsty trade, even in those days. The Babylonians were, according to Herodotus, habitual over-estimators of their swallowing capacity, and got merry after inhaling the fumes of certain herbs which they burned; which sounds like anything but a comfortable debauch, and must have choked some of them. Strabo tells all who care to read him that the Indians drank the juice of sugar-canes, which we now call rum; whilst according to Pliny and Athenaeus the Egyptians fuddled themselves with a drink made from barley; evidently undeveloped beer. And it is quite on the cards that Cleopatra occasionally drew, with her own fair hands, for her beloved Antony, a glass of “bitter,” with a head on it. But the quaintest and most awe-inspiring of all drinks seems to have been that affected by the Persians—now decent, sober people enough; this was a liquor made from boiled poppy-seeds, and called _Kokemaar_. They drank it scalding hot, in the presence of many spectators, who may or may not have been charged for admission. “Before it operates,” wrote a chronicler of the times, “they quarrel with one another, and give abusive language, without coming to blows; afterwards when the drug begins to have its {24} effect, then they also begin to make peace. One compliments in a very high degree, another tells stories, but all are extremely ridiculous both in their words and actions.” And after mentioning other liquors which they use, he adds, “It is difficult to find in Persia a man that is not addicted to one of these liquors, without which they think they cannot live but very unpleasantly.” Anything nastier than hot laudanum as a restorative I cannot imagine. It sounds curious to read that France and Spain were censured by that universal provider of knowledge, Pliny, for their drunkenness with beer and ale, “wines not being in that age so frequent.” What was the world like before the invention of port wine, I wonder? For in Pliny’s time Italy exceeded all parts of the world for her luscious and curious vintages, being responsible for 195 different sorts of wines.