] 827."] A Dissertation itpfm Dinners. 139 



passion, and he all at once finds himself imbued with its social spirit; with 

 the very first mouthful, his voice sinks from the tempestuous tones of the 

 north wind to the melodious modulations of the zephyr ; his face softens 

 down into an ingenuous simper, and finally he becomes as purely angelic 

 as the imperfect limits of human nature will allow. The hypochondriac 

 in Nightmare Abbey, who delayed cutting his throat till he had previously 

 discussed a beaf-stcak and a bottle of port, only exemplified a general rule : 

 Candide deferred his suicide for a similar reason, and was astonished to 

 find, after the digestion of a creditable meal, how reconciled he had be- 

 come to existence. Talk not to us then of care, and its countless atten- 

 dants : life knows but one pleasure and one sorrow a dinner, or no din- 

 ner. We at least conceive so we who at this present moment are 

 scribbling our dissertation with a swinging symposium in the perspective. 

 Could the Public see our intelligent face, as we note down these amusing 

 thoughts, they would be quite charmed with its benevolence ; but let the 

 scene change let our servant enter the parlour with information that our 

 dinner is spoiled : heavens and earth, what an alteration ! Our Vesuvius 

 countenance would instantly put forth its most volcanic passions ; and this 

 Essay, now so agreeable, would be converted into a Jeremiad, with a 

 fiendish sarcasm running through it, like quicksilver through a diseased 

 frame. But we will not anticipate affliction. 



We are staunch admirers of, Milton we admire his purity, his sublimity, 

 his luxuriant imagery, his learned illustrations ; but while we confess thus 

 much, while we do justice to his descriptions, we think but meanly of his 

 dinners. Adam and Eve (hear it, ye misbelieving citizens) dined at 

 one o'clock, on dried figs and spring water. We wonder they were not 

 carried off by a bowel complaint! For our own parts, our sophisticated 

 stomachs would have spurned even Paradise without a larder ; but, fur- 

 nished with good cellars, kitchens, and pantries, why we think it might 

 have been made a pretty place. The Public will perceive from this that, 

 notwithstanding the general opinion to the contrary, we are no Miltons ; 

 indeed, our mind is any thing but ambitious but, were we addicted to 

 verse, certes we would make a point of enriching our friend Watts's next 

 Souvenir with " Lyrics of the Stomach" (notes by Kitchiner), as a sequel 

 to his " Lyrics of the Heart," And this brings us to the subject of pcets, 

 under which head we have one maxim, founded on experience, to put 

 forward, viz. NEVER DINE WITH A POET. Of all dietetic miseries this is 

 the worst. In the first place, you are invited at five o'clock, when the 

 bard himself does not deign to make his appearance till half-past six. He 

 then comes in without his cravat, pops down in front of a cold joint Conce 

 the left leg of a sheep of genius like himself), which he saws into square 

 wedges with a knife eccentric as its master, and forthwith commences a con- 

 versation upon L. E. L. But this is not all, ten to one he is married ; in 

 which case you are sure to be overlooked, for women never fail to be vacci- 

 nated with the genius of their husbands a genius which notunfrequently 

 runs, like a typhus-fever (only infinitely more alarming), through the house- 

 hold. We ourselves muttoned, a few days since, with an esteemed friend in 

 the verse line, and were waited on by a fat footman, who was himself a poet 

 of no slight consideration, inasmuch as he had contributed to the Literary 

 Gazette sixteen sonnets, under the signature of " Adonis."* The conse- 



* This promising young poet has been, we are grieved to add, within the last few 

 months, transported for life : he was always eccentric and ii regular in his motions. 



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