philosopher nor a man of taste, had so won on the Squire's fancy, by a
learned dissertation on the art of stuffing a turkey, that he
concluded no Christmas party would be complete without him.

The conversation among these illuminati soon became animated; and Mr
Foster, who, we must observe, was a thin gentleman, about thirty years
of age, with an aquiline nose, black eyes, white teeth, and black
hair--took occasion to panegyrize the vehicle in which they were then
travelling, and observed what remarkable improvements had been made in
the means of facilitating intercourse between distant parts of the
kingdom: he held forth with great energy on the subject of roads and
railways, canals and tunnels, manufactures and machinery: "In short,"
said he, "every thing we look on attests the progress of mankind in
all the arts of life, and demonstrates their gradual advancement
towards a state of unlimited perfection."

Mr Escot, who was somewhat younger than Mr Foster, but rather more
pale and saturnine in his aspect, here took up the thread of the
discourse, observing, that the proposition just advanced seemed to him
perfectly contrary to the true state of the case: "for," said he,
"these improvements, as you call them, appear to me only so many links
in the great chain of corruption, which will soon fetter the whole
human race in irreparable slavery and incurable wretchedness: your
improvements proceed in a simple ratio, while the factitious wants and
unnatural appetites they engender proceed in a compound one; and thus
one generation acquires fifty wants, and fifty means of supplying them
are invented, which each in its turn engenders two new ones; so that
the next generation has a hundred, the next two hundred, the next four
hundred, till every human being becomes such a helpless compound of
perverted inclinations, that he is altogether at the mercy of external