stomach; to what known and visible source, on this earth, was he indebted
for a keener enjoyment--a more rapturous and a more constant delight? No
wonder he honoured it with his gratitude, and supplied it with his peace-
offerings;--let us imitate so great an example:--let us make our
digestive receptacles a temple, to which we will consecrate the choicest
goods we possess;--let us conceive no pecuniary sacrifice too great,
which procures for our altar an acceptable gift;--let us deem it an
impiety to hesitate, if a sauce seems extravagant, or an ortolan too
dear; and let our last act in this sublunary existence, be a solemn
festival in honour of our unceasing benefactor."

"Amen to your creed," said I: "edibilatory Epicurism holds the key to all
morality: for do we not see now how sinful it is to yield to an obscene
and exaggerated intemperance?--would it not be to the last degree
ungrateful to the great source of our enjoyment, to overload it with a
weight which would oppress it with languor, or harass it with pain; and
finally to drench away the effects of our impiety with some nauseous
potation which revolts it, tortures it, convulses, irritates, enfeebles
it, through every particle of its system? How wrong in us to give way to
anger, jealousy, revenge, or any evil passion; for does not all that
affects the mind operate also upon the stomach; and how can we be so
vicious, so obdurate, as to forget, for a momentary indulgence, our debt
to what you have so justly designated our perpetual benefactor?"

"Right," said Lord Guloseton, "a bumper to the morality of the stomach."

The desert was now on the table. "I have dined well," said Guloseton,
stretching his legs with an air of supreme satisfaction; "but--" and here
my philosopher sighed deeply--"we cannot dine again till to-morrow!
Happy, happy, happy common people, who can eat supper! Would to Heaven,