minimis non curat lex.”  But the doctrine is dangerous, and I doubt if anything in this world is absolutely immaterial.  De Quincey mentions the case of a man who committed a murder, which at the time he thought little about, but he was led on from that to gambling and Sabbath breaking.  Probably in this weary world any indulgence or pleasure which is not bad is not indifferent, but absolutely good.  The world is not so bright, so comfortable, so pleasant, that we can afford to scorn the good the gods provide us.  In Mr. Reade’s book on Study and Stimulants, Matthew Arnold says, a moderate use of wine adds to the agreeableness of life, and whatever adds to the agreeableness of life, adds to its resources and powers.  There cannot be a doubt that the bodily frame is capable of being wearied, and that it needs repose and refreshment, and this is a law which a man trifles with at his peril.  The same is true of the intellectual and moral faculties.  They claim rest and refreshment; they must have comfort and pleasure or they will begin to flag.  It must also be always remembered that in the every-day work of this world the body and the mind have to go through a great deal which is depressing and taxing to the energy, and a certain amount of “set off” is required to keep the balance even.  We must remember this especially with respect to the poor.  Pipes and cigars may be a luxury to the idle and rich, but we ought not to grudge a pipe to a poor man who is overworked and miserable.  Some degree of comfort we all feel to be at times essential when we have a comfortless task to perform.  With good food and sleep, for instance, we can get through the roughest work; with the relaxation of pleasant society we can do the most tedious daily work.  If, on the other hand, we are worried and uncomfortable, we become unfitted for our business.  We all have our troubles to contend against, and we require comfort, relaxation, stimulation of some sort to help us in the battle.  There are certain duties which most of us have to perform, and which, to use a common expression, “take it out of us.”  Thus most of us are compelled to travel more or less.  An old gentleman travelling by coach on a long journey wished to sleep off the tediousness of the night, but his travelling companion woke him up every ten minutes with the inquiry, “Well, sir, how are you by this.”  At last the old gentleman’s patience was fairly tired out.  “I was very well when I got into the coach, and I’m very well now, and if any change takes place I’ll let you know.”  I was coming from London to Beckenham, and in the carriage with me was a gentleman quietly and attentively reading the newspaper.  A lady opposite to him, whenever we came to a station, cried out, “Oh, what station’s this, what station’s this?” Being told, she subsided, more or less, till the next station.  The gentleman’s patience was at last exhausted.  “If there is any particular station at which you wish to alight I will inform you when we arrive.”