present paper fhall be that part of fociety which owes its beginning to the common neceffity of hunger. When this is confidered as the fupport of our being, we may take in, under the fame head, thirst allo; otherwise, when we are pufuing the glutton, the drunkard may make his escape. The true choice of our diet, and our companions at it, feems to confift in that which contributes moft to cheerfulness and refreshment: and these certainly are best confulted by fimplicity in the food, and fincerity in the company. By this rule are, in the first place, excluded from pretence to happiness all meals of ftate and ceremony, which are performed in dumb fhew, and greedy fullennefs. At the boards of the great, they fay, you thall have a number attending with as good habits and countenances as the guests, which only circumftance muft deftroy the whole ple..fure of the repaft; for if such attendants are introduced for the dignity of their appearance, modeft minds are fhocked by confidering them as fpectators; or elfe look upon them as equals, for whofe fervitude they are in a kind of fuffering. It may be here added, that the fumptuous fideboard, to an ingenuous eye, has often more the air of an altar than a table. The next abfurd way of enjoying ourselves at meals is, where the bottle is plied without being called for, where humour takes place of appetite, and the good company are too dull, or too merry, to know any enjoyment in their fenfes.

Though this part of time is abfolutely neceffary to fuftain life, it must be alfo confidered, that life itself is, to the endless being of man, but what a meal is to this life, not valuable for itself, but for the purposes of it. If there be any truth in this, the expence of many hours this way is fomewhat unaccountable: and placing much thought, either in too great fumptuoufnefs and elegance in this matter, or wallowing in noise and riot at it, are both, though not equally, unaccountable. I have often. confidered thefe different people with very great attention, and always fpeak of them with the diftinction of the eaters, and the fwallowers. The eaters facrifice all their fenfes and understanding to this appetite; the Swallowers hurry themselves out of both, without pleafing

this or any other appetite at all. The latter are improved brutes, the former degenerated men. I have fometimes thought it would not be improper to add to my dead and living men, perfons in an intermediate ftate of humanity, under the appellation of Dozers. The dozers are a fect, who, instead of keeping their appetites in fubjection,-live in fubjection to them; nay, they are fo truly flaves to them, that they keep at too great a distance ever to come into their prefence. Within my own acquaintance, I know thofe that, I dare fay, have forgot that they ever were hungry, and are no lefs utter strangers to thirst and wearinefs; who are beholden to fauces for their food, and to their food for their weariness.

I have often wondered, confidering the excellent and choice fpirits that we have among our divines, that they do not think of putting vicious habits into a more contemptible and unlovely figure than they do at prefent. So many men of wit and fpirit as there are in facred orders, have it in their power to make the fashion of their fide. The leaders in human fociety are more effectually prevailed upon this way than can easily be imagined. I have more than one in my thoughts at this time, capable of doing this against all the oppofition of the moft witty, as well as the moft voluptuous. There may poffibly be more acceptable fubjects; but fure there are none more useful. It is vifible, that though men's fortunes, circumstances, and pleasures, give them prepoffeffions too strong to regard any mention either of punishments or rewards, they will liften to what makes them inconfiderable or mean in the imaginations of others, and by degrees in their own.

It is certain fuch topics are to be touched upon, in the light we mean, only by men of the moft confummate prudence, as well as excellent wit; for thefe discourses are to be made, if made to run into example, before fuch as have their thoughts more intent upon the propriety, than the reafon of the difcourfe. What, indeed, leads me into this way of thinking is, that the laft thing I read was a fermon of the learned Doctor South upon The Ways of Pleasantnefs. This admirable difcourfe was made at court, where the preacher was too wife a

man

man not to believe, the greateft argument in that place against the pleasures then in vogue muft be, that they loft greater pleasures by profecuting the course they were in. The charming discourse has in it whatever wit and wisdom can put together. This gentleman has a talent of making all his faculties bear to the great end of his hallowed profeffion. Happy genius! he is the better man for being a wit. The best way to praife this author is to quote him; and, I think, I may defy any man to fay a greater thing of him, or his ability, than that there are no paragraphs in the whole difcourfe I speak of below thefe which follow.

After having recommended the fatisfaction of the mind, and the pleasure of confcience, he proceeds:

An ennobling property of it is, that it is fuch a pleafure as never faciates or wearies; for it properly affects the fpirit; and a spirit feels no weariness, as being privileged from the caufes of it. But can the epicure fay fo of any of the pleasures that he fo much dotes upon? Do they not expire while they fatisfy, and, after a few minutes refreshment, determine in loathing and unquietnefs? How fhort is the interval between a pleasure and a burden? How indifcernible the tranfition from one to the other? Pleasure dweils no longer upon the appetite than the neceffities of nature, which are quickly and easily provided for; and then all that follows is a load and an oppreffion. Every morfel to a fatisfied hunger, is only a new labour to a tired digeftion. Every draught to him that has quenched his thirst, is but a further quenching of nature, and a provifion for rheum and difeafes, a drowning of the quickness and activity of the spirits.

He that prolongs his meals, and facrifices his time, as well as his other conveniencies, to his. luxury, how quickly does he outfit his pleasure? And then, how is all the following time beftowed upon ceremony and furfeit? until at length, after a long fatigue of eating, and drinking, and babbling, he concludes the great work of dining genteelly, and makes a fhift to rife from table, that he may lie down upon his bed; where, after he has flept himself into fome use of himfelf, by much ado he ftaggers to his table again, and there acts over the fame brutifh scene:

fo

fo that he paffes his whole life in a dozed condition, between fleeping and waking, with a kind of drowsiness and confufion upon his fenfes, which, what pleasure it can be is hard to conceive. All that is of it dwells upon the tip of his tongue, and within the compafs of his palate. A worthy prize for a man to purchafe with the lofs of his time, his reafon, and himself!"

No. 206.

THURSDAY, AUGUST 3, 1710.

Metiri fe quemque fuo modulo ac pede verum eft.

HOR. Ep. 7. lib. 1. ver. ult.

All fhould be confin'd

Within the bounds which Nature hath affign'd.

From my own Apartment, August 2.

FRANCIS.

THE general purposes of men in the conduct of their lives, I mean with relation to this life only, end in gaining either the affection or the esteem of those with whom they converfe. Efteem makes a man powerful in business, and affection desirable in conversation; which is certainly the reason that very agreeable men fail of their point in the world, and those who are by no means fuch arrive at it with much eafe. If it be vifible in a man's carriage that he has a ftrong paffion to pleafe, no one is much at a lofs how to keep measures with him; because there is always a balance in people's hand to make up with him, by giving him what he ftill wants in exchange for what you think fit to deny him. Such a person asks with diffidence, and ever leaves room for denial by that foftness of his complexion. At the fame time he himflf is capable of denying nothing, even what he is not able to perform. The other fort of man who courts eftcem, having a quite different view, has as

different

different a behaviour; and acts as much by the dictates of his reason, as the other does by the impulse of his inclination. You must pay for every thing you have of him, He confiders mankind as a people in commerce, and never gives out of himself what he is fure will not come in with intereft from another. All his words and actions tend to the advancement of his reputation and of his fortune, towards which he makes hourly progress, be-' cause he lavishes no part of his good-will upon fuch as do not make some advances to merit it. The man who values affection, sometimes becomes popular; he who aims at efteem, feldom fails of growing rich.

Thus far we have looked at thefe different men as perfons who endeavoured to be valued and beloved from defign or ambition; but they appear quite in another figure, when you obferve the men who are agreeable and venerable from the force of their natural inclinations. We affect the company of him who has leaft regard of himself in his carriage, who throws himself into unguarded gaiety, voluntary mirth, and general good humour; who has nothing in his head but the prefent hour, and feems to have all his intereft and paffions gratified, if every man elfe in the room is as unconcerned as himself. This man ufually has no quality or character among his companions; let him be born of whom he will, have what great qualities he pleases; let him be capable of affuming for a moment what figure he pleases; he ftill dwells in the imagination of all who know him but as Jack Such-a-one. This makes Jack brighten up the room wherever he enters, and change the feverity of the company into that gaiety and good humour into which his converfation generally leads them. It is not unpleasant to observe even this fort of creature go out of his character, to check himself fometimes for his familiarities, and pretend fo awkwardly at procuring to himself more efteem than he finds he meets with. I was the other day walking with Jack Gainly towards Lincoln's-inn-walks: we met a fellow who is a lower officer where Jack is in the direction. Jack cries to him, So, how is it, Mr. -? He anfwers, Mr. Gainly, I am glad to fee you

well.