Aleppo Pine. _Pinus Halipensis._
Dedicated to _St. Damasus_.
~December 12.~
_Sts. Epimachus_ and _Alexander_, &c. A. D. 250. _St. Finian_, or
_Finan_, Bp. in Ireland, A. D. 552. _St. Columba_, son of _Crimthain_,
A. D. 548. _St. Cormac._ _St. Colman_, Abbot, A. D. 659. _St.
Eadburge_, A. D. 751. _St. Valery_, Abbot, A. D. 622. _St. Corentin_,
1st. Bp. of Quimper, 5th Cent. Another _St. Corentin_, or _Cury_, A.
D. 401.
_An intoxicated Servant._
In _Lloyd’s Evening Post_ of December 12-14, 1781, there is the
following advertisement:--
A YOUNG MAN having yesterday left his master’s service in Smithfield, on
a presumption of his pocket being picked of one hundred pounds, his
master’s property, when he was in liquor; this is to inform him, that he
left it in the shop of his master, who has found it; and if he will
return to his master’s service he will be kindly received.
* * * * *
Such was the state of society, in the year 1781, that a drunken servant
would be “kindly received” by his employer. We are so far better, in the
year 1825, that if such a servant were kindly received, he would not be
permitted to enter on his duties till he was admonished not to repeat
the vice. Drunkenness is now so properly reprobated, that no one but a
thorough reprobate dares to practise it, and the character of sot or
drunkard invariably attaches to him.
* * * * *
In the subjoined extract taken from an old author, without recollection
of his name, there is something apt to the occasion.
THE TRADE OF BREWING.
_By a writer, in the year 1621._
Of all the trades in the world, a brewer is the loadstone which draws
the customes of all functions unto it. It is the mark or upshot of every
man’s ayme, and the bottomlesse whirlepoole that swallowes up the
profits of rich and poore. The brewer’s art (like a wilde kestrell or
lemand hawke,) flies at all games; or like a butler’s boxe at
Christmasse, it is sure to winne, whosoever loses. In a word, it rules
and raignes, (in some sort,) as Augustus Cæsar did, for it taxeth the
whole earth. Your innes and alehouses are brookes and rivers, and their
clients are small rills and springs, who all, (very dutifully) doe pay
their tributes to the boundless ocean of the brewhouse. For, all the
world knowes, that if men and women did drinke no more than sufficed
nature, or if it were but a little extraordinary now and then upon
occasion, or by chance as you may terme it; if drinking were used in any
reason, or any reason used in drinking, I pray ye what would become of
the brewer then? Surely we doe live in an age,[411] wherein the seven
deadly sins are every man’s trade and living.
Pride is the maintainer of thousands, which would else perish; as
mercers, taylors, embroydrers, silkmen, cutters, drawers, sempsters,
laundresses, of which functions there are millions which would starve
but for Madam Pride, with her changeable fashions. Letchery, what a
continual crop of profits it yeelds, appears by the gallant thriving and
gawdy outsides of many he and she, private and publicke sinners, both in
citie and suburbs. Covetousnesse is embroydered with extortion, and
warmly lined and furred with oppression; and though it be a divell, yet
is it most idolatrously adored, honoured, and worshipped by those simple
sheep-headed fooles, whom it hath undone and beggared. I could speake of
other vices, how profitable they are to a commonwealth; but my invention
is thirsty, and must have one carouse more at the brewhouse, who (as I
take it) hath a greater share than any, in the gaines which spring from
the world’s abuses.
If any man hang, drowne, stabbe, or by any violent meanes make away his
life, the goods and lands of any such person are forfeit to the use of
the king; and I see no reason but those which kill themselves with
drinking, should be in the same estate, and be buried in the highways,
with a stake drove thorow them; and if I had but a grant of this suite,
I would not doubt but that in seven yeeres (if my charity would but
agree with my wealth,) I might erect almes-houses, free-schooles, mend
highways, and make bridges; for I dare sweare, that a number (almost
numberlesse) have confessed upon their death-beds, that at such and such
a time, in such and such a place, they dranke so much, which made them
surfeite, of which surfeite they languished and dyed. The maine benefit
of these superfluous and manslaughtering expenses, comes to the brewer,
so that if a brewer be in any office, I hold him to be a very ingrateful
man, if he punish a drunkard; for every stiffe, potvaliant drunkard is
a post, beam, or pillar, which holds up the brewhouse; for as the barke
is to the tree, so is a good drinker to the brewer.
* * * * *