By right divine, man is king of nature, and all that the earth produces was created for him.  It is for him that the quail is fattened, for him that Mocha possesses so agreeable an aroma, for him that sugar has such wholesome properties.  How then neglect to use, within reasonable limits, the good things which Providence presents to us; especially if we continue to regard them as things that perish with the using, especially if they raise our thankfulness towards the Author of all!

Other equally strong reasons come to strengthen these.  Can we be too hospitable in receiving those who have charge of our souls, and keep us in the way of safety?  Should those meetings with so excellent an object not be made pleasant, and therefore frequent?

Sometimes, also, the gifts of Comus arrive unsought—­perhaps a souvenir of college days, a present from an old friend, a peace-offering from a penitent or a college chum recalling himself to one’s memory.  How refuse to accept such offerings, or to make systematic use of them?  It is simply a necessity.

The monasteries were real magazines of charming dainties, which is one reason why certain connoisseurs so bitterly regret them.  Several of the monastic orders, especially that of St. Bernard, made a profession of good cheer.  The limits of gastronomic art have been extended by the cooks of the clergy, and when M. de Pressigni (afterwards Archbishop of Besancon) returned from the Conclave at the election of Pius VI., he said that the best dinner he had had in Rome was at the table of the head of the Capuchins.

We cannot conclude this article better than by honorably mentioning two classes of men whom we have seen in all their glory, and whom the Revolution has eclipsed—­the chevaliers and the abbes.  How they enjoyed good living, those dear old fellows!  That could be told at a glance by their nervous nostrils, their clear eyes, their moist lips and mobile tongues.  Each class had at the same time its own special manner of eating:  the chevalier having something military and dignified in his air and attitude; while the abbe gathered himself together, as it were, to be nearer his plate, with his right hand curved inward like the paw of a cat drawing chestnuts from the fire, whilst in every feature was shown enjoyment and an indefinable look of close attention.

So far from good living being hurtful to health, it has been arithmetically proved by Dr. Villerme in an able paper read before the Academie des Sciences, that other things being equal, the gourmands live longer than ordinary men.

CHARLOTTE BRONTE AND HER SISTERS

(1816-1855)