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going on I would defy the most vigorous stomach in the world to make any advance in its business worth speaking of. Sometimes things go to a much greater length than at others; and my master will paralyze1 us in this manner for hours, not always, indeed, with wine, but occasionally with punch, one ingredient of which-the lemon-is particularly odious to us. All this time I can hear him jollifying away at a great rate, drinking healths to his neighbors, and ruining his own.
7. I am a lover of early hours, as are my brethren generally. To this we are very much disposed by the extremely hard work which we usually undergo during the day. About ten o'clock, having, perhaps, at that time got all our labors past, and feeling fatigued and exhausted, we like to sink into repose, not to be again disturbed till next morning at breakfast-time. Well, how it may be with others I can't tell; but so it is, that my master never scruples to rouse me up from my first sleep, and give me charge of an entirely new meal, after I thought I was to be my own master for the night. This is a hardship of the most grievous kind.
8. Only imagine me, after having gathered in my coal, drawn on my night-cap, and gone to bed, called up and made to take charge of a quantity of stuff which I know I shall not be able to get off my hands all night! Such, O mankind, are the woes which befall our tribe in consequence of your occasionally yielding to the temptations of "a little supper." I see turkey and tongue in grief and terror. Macaronis fills me with frantic alarm. I behold jelly and trifle follow in mute despair. O that I had the power of standing beside my master, and holding his unreflecting hand, as he thus prepares for my torment and his own!
9. Here, too, the old mistaken notion about the need of something stimulating besets him, and down comes a deluge of hot spirits and water, that causes me to writhe in agony, and almost sends Gastric Juice off in the sulks to.bed. Nor does the infatuated man rest here. If the company be agreeable, one glass follows another, while I am kept standing, as it were, with my sleeves tucked up, ready to begin, but unable to perform a single stroke of work.
10. I feel that the strength which I ought to have at my
present time of life has passed from me. I am getting weak, and peevish, and evil-disposed. A comparatively small trouble sits long and sore upon me. Bile, from being my servant, is becoming my master; and a bad one he makes, as all good servants ever do. I see nothing before me but a premature old age of pains and groans, and gripes and grumblings, which will, of course, not last over long; and thus I shall be cut short in my career, when I should have been enjoying life's tranquil evening, without a single vexation of any kind to trouble me?
11. Were I of a revengeful temper, it might be a consolation to think that my master-the cause of all my woes-must suffer and sink with me; but I don't see how this can mend my own case; and, from old acquaintance, I am rather disposed to feel sorry for him, as one who has been more ignorant and imprudent than ill-meaning. In the same spirit let me hope that this true and unaffected account of my case may prove a warning to other persons how they use their stomachs; for, they may depend upon it, whatever injustice they do to us, in their days of health and pride, will be repaid to themselves in the long-run-our friend Madame Nature being a remarkably accurate accountant, who makes no allowance for ignorance or mistakes.
1 DE-PRAV'ED, corrupted; made bad.
2 VI'-ANDS, food; meat dressed.
15 MA¤-A-RŌ'-NI, a kind of dry paste made of wheat flour.
6 TRI-FLE, a dish composed of layers of sweetmeats and cake, with syllabub.
CORNARO THE ITALIAN.
1. CORNARO was an Italian, who, by the simplest diet, a quiet mode of life, and an unexampled perseverance in his plan, happily attained to a great age, which richly rewarded him for his self-denial, and gave an instructive lesson to posterity.
2. One can not read the history of the life and abstinence of this veteran of a hundred years, and hear how he praises that serenity and contentment for which he was indebted to
his mode of living, without participating1 in his happiness and his cheerful sensations.
3. Till the fortieth year of his age, Cornaro had led a life of dissipation. He had always been subject to colics, pains in the limbs, and frequent attacks of fever. He was so far reduced by the last that his physician assured him he could not live above two months; that all medicine would be useless; and that the only thing which could be recommended for him was a spare diet.
4. Having followed this advice, Cornaro found, after some days, that he was much better; and at the end of a few years his health was not only perfectly re-established, but he became sounder than he had ever been before. He resolved, therefore, to restrain himself more and more, and to use noth ing except what was absolutely necessary for his subsistence.
5. For sixty whole years he took no more than twelve ounces of solid food and thirteen ounces of drink daily. He avoided, also, violent heat and cold, as well as all excitement and passion; and by this uniform mode of life he kept not only his body, but his mind also, in such a state of equality that nothing was able to derange them.
6. When at a great age he lost an important lawsuit; and though this disappointment hurried two of his brothers to the grave, he remained perfectly sound and resigned. He was once thrown from a carriage and trodden under the feet of the horses, so that an arm and one of his feet were dislocated,3 but by a still more temperate diet, and without the use of any medicine, he was soon restored to his former condition.
7. But what is most worthy of remark, and proves how dangerous the smallest deviation from long custom may be, is what follows: When he was eighty years of age his friends prevailed upon him to make a little addition to his food, in the belief that his body now required more nourishment. Though well aware that with the general decay of strength the power of digestion decreases also, and that in old age one ought rather to lessen than increase the quantity of nourishment, he gave way to their request, and raised his food to fourteen, and his drink to sixteen ounces.
8. "Scarcely," says he, "had I continued this mode of liv
ing ten days when I began, instead of being lively and cheerful as before, to become uneasy and dejected, a burden to myself and to others. On the twelfth day I was seized with a pain in my side, which lasted twenty-four hours, and this was followed by a fever which continued with so much violence for thirty-five days that my life was despaired of; but, by the blessing of God, and my former temperate mode of life, I recovered, and now, in my eighty-third year, I enjoy a happy state both of body and mind.
9. "I can mount my horse without assistance; I climb steep hills; and I have lately written a play abounding in innocent wit and humor. When I return from a private company, or the senate, I find eleven grandchildren, whose education, amusement, and songs are the delight of my old age. I often sing with them, for my voice is now clearer and stronger than it ever was in my youth; and I am a stranger to those peevish1 and morose5 humors which fall so often to the lot of old age." In this happy disposition the wise and virtuous Cornaro attained to his hundredth year, but his example has seldom, if ever, been imitated.
1 PAR-TIO'-I-PA-TING, taking part in; par-4 PEE'-VISH, fretful. taking.
5 MO-ROSE', sour; sullen.
2 DIS-SI-PA'-TION, a dissolute or intemper-6 HU'-MORS, peculiarities of temper or dis. ate course of life, position.
3 DIS'-LO-CA-TED, put out of joint.
ADVANTAGES OF TEMPERANCE IN DIET.
1. TEMPERANCE promotes clearness and vigor of intellect. If the brain be not in a healthy and vigorous state, equally unhealthy and inefficient must be the mind also. History will bear us out in asserting, that the highest and most successful intellectual1 efforts have ever been associated with the practice of those general principles of temperance in diet for which we plead.
2. It is the mighty minds that have grappled most successfully with the demonstrations2 of mathematical, intellectual, and moral science, that stand highest on the scale of mental
acumen3 and power; and it is such minds that have found strict temperance in diet essential to their success. Let us advert to the history of a few of the master spirits of the human race.
3. Foremost on the list stands that eminent philosopher and mathematician, Sir Isaac Newton. The treatise of his, that cost him the mightiest intellectual effort of all his works, was composed while the body was sustained by bread and water alone. And in spite of the wear and tear of such protracted and prodigious mental labor as his, that same temperance sustained him to his eighty-fifth year.
4. That celebrated intellectual philosopher, John Locke, with a feeble constitution,5 outlived the term of threescore years and ten by his temperance. "To this temperate mode of life, too, he was probably indebted for the increase of those intellectual powers, which gave birth to his great work on the human understanding, his treatises on government and education, as well as his other writings, which do so much honor to his memory."
5. Another intellectual philosopher, who saw fourscore years, was the venerable Kant. "By this commendable and healthy practice," early rising, says his biographer, “ daily exercise on foot, temperance in eating and drinking, constant employment, and cheerful company, he protracted his life to this advanced period;" and we may add, acquired the power for his immense labors of mind.
6. Few men have more fully established their claims to intellectual superiority of a very high grade than that American theologian, President Edwards. But it was temperance alone that could carry him through such powerful mental efforts. "Though of a delicate constitution, by the rules of temperance he enjoyed good health, and was enabled to pursue his studies thirteen hours a day."
7. The same means enabled the great German reformer, Martin Luther, though his days were stormy in the extreme, to make the moral world bend to his will, and to leave for his posterity so many profound literary productions. "It often happened," says his biographer, "that for several days and nights he locked himself up in his study, and took no