soliciting for posts and power, become, in their turn, eager and craving
aspirants for places--at his table;--to know that all the grand movements
of the ministerial body are planned and agitated over the inspirations of
his viands and the excitement of his wine--from a haunch of venison, like
the one of which we have partaken to-day, what noble and substantial
measures might arise? From a saute de foie, what delicate subtleties of
finesse might have their origin? from a ragout a la financiere, what
godlike improvements in taxation? Oh, could such a lot be mine, I would
envy neither Napoleon for the goodness of his fortune, nor S--for the
grandeur of his genius."

Guloseton laughed. "The ardour of your enthusiasm blinds your philosophy,
my dear Pelham; like Montesquieu, the liveliness of your fancy often
makes you advance paradoxes which the consideration of your judgment
would afterwards condemn. For instance, you must allow, that if one had
all those fine persons at one's table, one would be forced to talk more,
and consequently to eat less; moreover, you would either be excited by
your triumph, or you would not, that is indisputable; if you are not
excited you have the bore for nothing; if you are excited you spoil your
digestion: nothing is so detrimental to the stomach as the feverish
inquietude of the passions. All philosophies recommend calm as the to
kalon of their code; and you must perceive, that if, in the course you
advise, one has occasional opportunities of pride, one also has those of
mortification. Mortification! terrible word; how many apoplexies have
arisen from its source! No, Pelham, away with ambition; fill your glass,
and learn, at last, the secret of real philosophy."

"Confound the man!" was my mental anathema.--"Long life to the Solomon of
sautes," was my audible exclamation.