The wine of Maronea,[1] on the coast of Thrace, appears to have been the most celebrated in ancient times, as we learn from the writings of Homer. I dismiss, however, all the fabulous stories and various traditions which we find relative to its origin, except, indeed, the one which states that Aristæus,[2] a native of the same country, was the first person that mixed honey[3] with wine, natural productions, both of them, of the highest degree of excellence. Homer[4] has stated that the Maronean wine was mixed with water in the proportion of twenty measures of water to one of wine. The wine that is still produced in the same district retains all its former strength, and a degree of vigour that is quite insuperable.[5] Mucianus, who thrice held the consulship, and one of our most recent authors, when in that part of the world was witness himself to the fact, that with one sextarius of this Wine it was the custom to mix no less than eighty sextarii of water: he states, also, that this wine is black,[6] has a strong bouquet, and is all the richer for being old.

The Pramnian wine, too, which Homer[7] has also similarly eulogized, still retains its ancient fame: it is grown in the territory of Smyrna, in the vicinity of the shrine of the Mother[8] of the Gods.

Among the other wines now known, we do not find any that enjoyed a high reputation in ancient times. In the year of the consulship of L. Opimius, when C. Gracchus,[9] the tribune of the people, engaging in sedition, was slain, the growth of every wine was of the very highest quality. In that year, the weather was remarkable for its sereneness, and the ripening of the grape, the "coctura,"[10] as they call it, was fully effected by the heat of the sun. This was in the year of the City 633. There are wines still preserved of this year's growth, nearly two hundred years ago; they have assumed the consistency of honey, with a rough taste; for such, in fact, is the nature of wines, that, when extremely old, it is impossible to drink them in a pure state; and they require to be mixed with water, as long keeping renders them intolerably bitter.[11] A very small quantity of the Opimian wine, mixed with them, will suffice for the seasoning of other wines. Let us suppose, according to the estimated value of these wines in those days, that the original price of them was one hundred sesterces per amphora: if we add to this six per- cent. per annum, a legal and moderate interest, we shall then be able to ascertain what was the exact price of the twelfth part of an amphora at the beginning of the reign of Caius Cæsar, the son of Germanicus, one hundred and sixty years after that consulship. In relation to this fact, we have a remarkable instance,[12] when we call to mind the life of Pom- ponius Secundus, the poet, and the banquet which he gave to that prince[13]—so enormous is the capital that lies buried in our cellars of wine! Indeed, there is no one thing, the value of which more sensibly increases up to the twentieth year, or which decreases with greater rapidity after that period, supposing that the value of it is not by that time greatly enhanced.[14] Very rarely, indeed, up to the present day, has it been known for a single[15] piece of wine to cost a thousand sesterces, except, indeed, when such a sum may have been paid in a fit of extravagance and debauchery. The people of Vienne, it is said, are the only ones who have set a higher price than this upon their "picata," wines, the various kinds of which we have already mentioned;[16] and this, it is thought, they only do, vying with each other, and influenced by a sort of national self-esteem. This wine, drunk in a cool state, is generally thought to be of a colder[17] temperature than any other.