insist upon having. This foolish demand of his customers merely gives him a large amount of unnecessary trouble.
So far, the wine-merchant; but how about the consumer? Simply that the substitution of a mineral acid—the sulphuric for a vegetable acid (the tartaric)—supplies him with a precipitant of lithic acid in his own body; that is, provides him with the source of gout, rheumatism, gravel, stone, etc., with which English wine-drinkers are proverbially tortured.
I am the more urgent in propounding this view of the subject because I see plainly that not only the patients, but too commonly their medical advisers, do not understand it. When I was in the midst of these experiments I called upon a clerical neighbor, and found him in his study with his foot on a pillow, and groaning with gout. A decanter of pale, choice, very dry sherry was on the table. He poured out a glass for me and another for himself. I tasted it, and then perpetrated the unheard-of rudeness of denouncing the wine for which my host had paid so high a price. He knew a little chemistry, and I accordingly went home forthwith, brought back some chloride of barium, added it to his choice sherry, and showed him a precipitate which made him shudder. He drank no more dry sherry, and has had no serious relapse of gout.
In this case his medical adviser prohibited port and advised dry sherry.
The following from "The Brewer, Distiller, and Wine Manufacturer," by John Gardner (Churchill's "Technological Handbooks," 1883), supports my view of the position of the wine-maker and wine merchant: "Dupré and Thudicum have shown by experiment that this practice of plastering, as it is called, also reduces the yield of the liquid, as a considerable part of the wine mechanically combines with the gypsum and is lost." When an adulteration—justly so called—is practiced, the object is to enable the perpetrator to obtain an increased profit on selling the commodity at a given price. In this case an opposite result is obtained. The gypsum, or Spanish earth, is used in considerable quantity, and leaves a bulky residuum, which carries away some of the wine with it, and thus increases the cost to the seller of the salable result.
Having referred so often to dry wines, I should explain the chemistry of this so-called dryness. The fermentation of wine is the result of a vegetable growth, that of the yeast, a microscopic fungus (Pencillium glaucum). The must, or juice of the grape, obtains the germ spontaneously—probably from the atmosphere. Two distinct effects are produced by this fermentation or growth of fungus: first, the sugar of the must is converted into alcohol; second, more or less of the albuminous or nitrogenous matter of the must is consumed as food by the fungus. If uninterrupted, this fermentation goes on either until the supply of sufficient sugar is stopped, or until the sup-
