No one was allowed to shirk--no daylight--no heeltaps--was the wretched jargon in which were expressed the propriety and the duty of seeing that the glass, when filled, must be emptied and drained.

We have heard of glasses having the bottoms knocked off, so that no shuffling tricks might be played with them, and that they could only be put down--empty.
One cannot help looking back with amazement at the infatuation which could for a moment tolerate such a sore evil.

To a man of sober inclinations it must have been an intolerable nuisance to join a dinner party at many houses, where he knew he should have to witness the most disgusting excesses in others, and to fight hard to preserve himself from a compliance with the example of those around him.
The scenes of excess which occurred in the houses where deep drinking was practised must have been most revolting to sober persons who were unaccustomed to such conviviality; as in the case of a drinking Angus laird, entertaining as his guest a London merchant of formal manners and temperate habits.

The poor man was driven from the table when the drinking set in hard, and stole away to take refuge in his bedroom.

The company, however, were determined not to let the worthy citizen off so easily, but proceeded in a body, with the laird at their head, and invaded his privacy by exhibiting bottles and glasses at his bedside, Losing all patience, the wretched victim gasped out his indignation--"Sir, your hospitality borders upon brutality." It must have had a fatal influence also on many persons to whom drinking was most injurious, and who were yet not strong-minded enough to resist the temptations to excess.