in frost, and golden melons in the depths of winter, what pleasure should I find in them when my palate did not need moisture or refreshment.  Would the heavy chestnut be very pleasant in the heat of the dog-days; should I prefer to have it hot from the stove, rather than the gooseberry, the strawberry, the refreshing fruits which the earth takes care to provide for me.  A mantelpiece covered in January with forced vegetation, with pale and scentless flowers, is not winter adorned, but spring robbed of its beauty; we deprive ourselves of the pleasure of seeking the first violet in the woods, of noting the earliest buds, and exclaiming in a rapture of delight, “Mortals, you are not forsaken, nature is living still.”

To be well served I would have few servants; this has been said before, but it is worth saying again.  A tradesman gets more real service from his one man than a duke from the ten gentlemen round about him.  It has often struck me when I am sitting at table with my glass beside me that I can drink whenever I please; whereas, if I were dining in state, twenty men would have to call for “Wine” before I could quench my thirst.  You may be sure that whatever is done for you by other people is ill done.  I would not send to the shops, I would go myself; I would go so that my servants should not make their own terms with the shopkeepers, and to get a better choice and cheaper prices; I would go for the sake of pleasant exercise and to get a glimpse of what was going on out of doors; this is amusing and sometimes instructive; lastly I would go for the sake of the walk; there is always something in that.  A sedentary life is the source of tedium; when we walk a good deal we are never dull.  A porter and footmen are poor interpreters, I should never wish to have such people between the world and myself, nor would I travel with all the fuss of a coach, as if I were afraid people would speak to me.  Shanks’ mare is always ready; if she is tired or ill, her owner is the first to know it; he need not be afraid of being kept at home while his coachman is on the spree; on the road he will not have to submit to all sorts of delays, nor will he be consumed with impatience, nor compelled to stay in one place a moment longer than he chooses.  Lastly, since no one serves us so well as we serve ourselves, had we the power of Alexander and the wealth of Croesus we should accept no services from others, except those we cannot perform for ourselves.

I would not live in a palace; for even in a palace I should only occupy one room; every room which is common property belongs to nobody, and the rooms of each of my servants would be as strange to me as my neighbour’s.  The Orientals, although very voluptuous, are lodged in plain and simply furnished dwellings.  They consider life as a journey, and their house as an inn.  This reason scarcely appeals to us rich people who propose to live for ever; but I should find another reason which would have the