We have nothing, however, in modern times, at all equal to the account given of some of the ancients. The elder Cato, we are told, warmed good principles with a considerable quantity of good wine.[5] But Cicero's son exceeds all others; so much so, that he got the name of _Bicongius_, because he was accustomed to drink two congii[6] at a sitting. Pliny, and others, abound in grand examples, that prove we have degenerated at any rate in this respect, for these convivials were neither sick nor sorry. Even that eminent debauchee, Nero, was only three times sick in fourteen years. "Nam qui luxuriae immoderatissimae esset, ter omnino per xiv. annos languit; atque ita, ut neque _vino_, neque consuetudine _reliqua_ abstineret." The Abbé de Voisenon, a very diminutive man, said to his physician, who ordered him a quart of ptisan per hour, "Ah! my friend, how can you desire me to swallow a quart an hour? I hold only a pint." Wine has not only been considered good for the body, but has, from the earliest period, been thought invigorating to the mind. Thus we find it a constant theme of praise with poets. Martial says-- Regnat nocte calix, volvuntur biblia mane, Cum Phoebo Bacchus dividit imperium. All night I drink, and study hard all day; Bacchus and Phoebus hold divided sway. Horace has done ample justice to it; and even Homer says-- The weary find new strength in generous wine. Upon the principle, no doubt, of expanding the imagination, we find, so early as 1374, old Geoffrey Chaucer had a pitcher of wine a day allowed him. Ben Jonson, in after times, had the third of a pipe annually; and a certain share of this invigorating aliment has been the portion of Laureates down to the present day. Nor are the poets the only eulogists of wine. Some of the greatest names in history are to be found in the list. We find Mr. Burke furnishing reasons why the rich and the great should have their share of wine. He says, they are among _the unhappy_--they feel personal pain and domestic sorrow--they pay their full contingent to the contributions levied on mortality in these matters;--therefore they require this sovereign balm. "Some charitable dole," says he, "is wanting to those, our often _very unhappy brethren_, to fill the gloomy void that reigns in minds which have nothing on earth to hope or fear; something to relieve the killing languor and over-laboured lassitude of those who have nothing to do."