Such, then, was the condition of society in the latter days of Rome, with her proud and debauched patricians and her ragged and dependent plebeians, shortly before the conquering barbarians of the North swept down like an avalanche and completed her overthrow; and thus do we find the curse of drunkenness associated with her downfall. May the story of her vices and the lesson of her fate not have been learned in vain by succeeding nations, and above all by the people of our own land; for they teach us that the upper ranks of society cannot yield themselves to over-indulgence without the commission of a twofold wrong—without injuring themselves by their vicious practices, as well as their poorer fellow-citizens by their evil example. Neither does the inconvenience cease with the discontinuance of the evil habit; the excesses of the poor react upon the rich, and it is as idle to attempt to reform the lower orders by criminal legislation and police restrictions alone, as it is unwise to content ourselves with denouncing their vices, and leaving them to work out their own reformation. In order to secure continued prosperity to a nation, all classes, high and low, rich and poor, must be alike free, contented, and virtuous. We cannot expect to progress satisfactorily as a nation amongst our neighbours whilst we have even a residuum of drunkards in our midst; for as long as there are amongst us such as those who issued from the baths of Caracalla (but who in our day neither enter nor issue from any baths at all), as easy would it be for a rich _bon vivant_ whose head is but little affected by the irregularities of his appetite but whose nether members the gout has made her own, to expect to compete successfully in a race with a band of young, and healthy, and vigorous athletes. This is the first grave lesson to be learned from a consideration of the history of drink. CHAPTER VIII. GERMANY: ANCIENT, MEDIÆVAL, AND MODERN.