In adapting new words to the Scots' old melodies, it was scarcely to be expected that Robert Burns would so far preach above his practice as to sing of cold water; and some of Tom Moore's most brilliant melodies have almost the scent of champagne. All seem to have thought with the Roman, that a water-drinker could not be a poet.

In other branches of elegant letters, men who should have felt the high calling to be the ministers of moderation and virtue, have in certain instances, even when they have not inculcated indulgence, spread the sensual table with such seductive sweets and garlands, as to wake the tendencies which they should have lulled. It would be hard to throw a glory around the extreme of inebriety: the incongruity of Christopher Sly in the bed of silk would startle one into ridicule. The poet's wreath cannot be conveniently placed on him who is dead drunk. But to this last depth men are conducted through divers descents and landingplaces; and of those some which are near the surface, fall within the circle of flowers and breezes, the poet's-land. Thus the wine-cup and the lyre have lain side by side for ages; but an evil demon has maintained the connexion; and I would to God that at once and forever American youth might dissever in their thoughts all that is ingenuous and joyful from the paroxysms of vinous inspiration.

Drinking, as a mere bodily act, is not more dignified than eating: yet we have no eating

songs. Though great events, such as a successful election, are solemnized by a dinner or a supper, yet some veil is thrown over the deglutition. We drink sentiments; we never eat them. In advertisements precedent, and narratives subsequent, the orators and singers at these banquets are never presented to the reader's imagination as pouring out eloquence or song through the interstices of venison or oysters, but over bumpers of costly wine. Yet both go to the same place; and the whole artifice is one of the tricks we put upon ourselves. Conscious that our souls are affronted by this prominency given to animal indulgence, we use all the poor means in our power to array these gross delights in the vesture of tasteful spirituality. Disguise the matter as we may, ornament as we may the table or the cup, it is of the earth, earthy. The soul spurns it. We do but fill and feed that which is presently to be a corpse and putrefaction. Do I cry out against this? Not by any means; but I speak, for the soul, against the homage we are so busily paying to the body. God has graciously made our meat and our drink delightful; but it is we, who, like the Egyptians with their goat and their onion, have made them gods. We must fight against this usurpation. We must from our infancy keep under the body. He who would be a man, must treat his lower nature as a gigantic slave, who is always watching his chance to rise and be upper

most.

There are some who pride themselves upon withholding from their lips every thing which can intoxicate, while they indulge in all other pleasures of the table ad libitum. This is a great mockery. The soul may be crushed with a load, as well as drowned with a flood. We have the statistics of the disease and death caused by drinking, but who will furnish that caused by eating? So far as the overt act is concerned, the latter is certainly the more brutal. As a conclusion to my outcry against animalism, I will state a case, which may serve to show that there is a nearer analogy than is usually suspected between the two sorts of excess; and which may further afford an exercise for the pens of certain modern authors who are fond of describing with Apician gusto the progress of a feast. True, the sketch I shall offer relates to the Esquimaux; but still it will, for that very reason, best serve my purpose of exhibiting, without a mask, the devotee of sense; and I would not quote it, if it were less disgusting. "We found," says Capt. Lyon, in the account of his northern adventures, "that the party which had been adrift had killed two large walruses, which they had carried home during the early part of the night. No one therefore came to the ships, al remaining in the huts to gormandize. We found the men lying under their deer-skins, and clouds of steam rising from their naked bodies. From Kooilittuk I learned a new Esquimaux luxury; he had eaten until he was drunk, and every mo

ment fell asleep with a flushed and burning face, and his mouth open. By his side sat Arnalooa, who was attending her cooking-pot, and at short intervals awakened her spouse, in order to cram as much as was possible of a large piece of halfboiled flesh into his mouth, with the assistance of her forefinger, and having filled it quite full, cut off the morsel close to his lips. This he slowly chewed, and as soon as a small vacancy became perceptible, this was filled by a lump of raw blubber. During this operation the happy man moved no part of him but his jaws, not even opening his eyes; but his extreme satisfaction was occasionally shown by a most expressive grunt, whenever he enjoyed sufficient room for the passage of sound. The drippings of the savoury repast had so plentifully covered his face and neck, that I had no hesitation in determining that a man may look more like a beast by over-eating than by drinking to excess."*

* Capt. Lyon's Private Journal, p. 182.

XXVI.

DRINKING AND DRUNKENNESS.

"O thou invisible spirit of wine, if thou hast no name to be known by, let us call thee-devil."

Othello.

If an insane parent should be brought to the diabolical resolution of burning a child to death, it would not be necessary that he should violently thrust the infant into the flames. Only remove from the little creature all dread of the fire, give him free access within the fender to the blazing billets, and no long time would elapse before the ruin would be consummated. And precisely so, in regard to death and destruction by strong drink. The parent need not drench his son with a mortal dose of alcohol; nay, he need not force him to be even once drunk. All that is necessary is that he should bring him up to absolute carelessness as to the danger of strong drink, allow him license in tasting it, and set him the example of indulgence. Alas! for one that is literally burned alive, there are a hundred destroyed by the liquid fire.

I should not deem myself pardonable, if I were to omit this topic in addressing young men, especially those of the industrious class; and although some of the crusades in favour of the virtue of