there is no escape. In aggravated cases, probably, there is no instant, sleeping or waking, in which its influence is totally unfelt. Remorse is the extreme one way; the opposite is that cleanliness of mind, which has never been recommended anywhere to the same extent that it is by the precepts of the Christian religion, and which alone constitutes "perfect freedom." It would be curious if we could see what effect such purity would have upon the appearance and actions of a human being—a being who lived, as Pope expresses it, in "the eternal sunshine of the spotless mind."

DIFFICULTIES.

It is weak to be scared at difficulties, seeing that they generally diminish as they are approached, and oftentimes even entirely vanish. No man can tell what he can do till he tries. It is impossible to calculate the extent of human powers; it can only be ascertained by experiment. What has been accomplished by parties and by solitary individuals in the torrid and the frozen regions, under circumstances the most difficult and appalling, should teach us that, when we ought to attempt, we should never despair. The reason why men oftener succeed in overcoming uncommon difficulties than ordinary ones is, that in the first case they call into action the whole of their resources, and that in the last they act upon calculation, and generally undercalculate. Where there is no retreat, and the whole energy is forward, the chances are in favour of success; but a backward look is full of danger. Confidence of success is almost success; and obstacles often fall of themselves before a determination to overcome them. There is something in resolution which has an influence beyond itself, and it marches on like a mighty lord among its slaves; all is prostration where it appears. When bent on good, it is almost the noblest attribute of man; when on evil, the most dangerous. It is by habitual resolution that men succeed to any great extent; impulses are not sufficient. What is done at one moment is undone the next; and a step forward is nothing gained, unless it is followed up. Resolution depends mainly on the state of the digestion, which St. Paul remarkably illustrates, when he says, "Every man that striveth for the mastery is temperate in all things. Now they do it to obtain a corruptible crown, but we an incorruptible. I therefore so run, not as uncertainly; so fight I, not as one that beateth the air; but I keep under my body, and bring it into subjection, lest that by any means, when I have preached to others, I myself should be a castaway.”

MIDNIGHT REFLECTIONS.

"The iron tongue of midnight" proclaims another day gone for ever.

How we loiter away our lives! If we wasted our means as we do our time, we should be bankrupts all.

We live on resolutions instead of performances, and content ourselves with the ease of the present, in the confidence of future exertion. We condemn the omissions of others, and overlook

our own.

We neglect the advantages we have, and think what we should do if we were something else than what we are.

We look back upon the past, and sigh that we did not begin then; yet we let the present slip as we let the past before.

We possess each the sovereignty of ourselves-the noblest and most profitable field in which to exercise dominion, but we busy ourselves most in what least concerns us. We make ourselves slaves where we might be kings, and seek for power where it profits us nothing.

We pretend to reform others, whilst we exhibit in our own persons examples of neglect, disorder, and revolt.

Our passions, which we ought to govern, we suffer to govern us, and instead of aiding us in our course they hurry us out of it till they have lost their force; and our judgment takes possession of her seat when she has nothing to guide. Man is like a vehicle hurried across a dangerous country by powerful and fiery steeds, and never gaining the road till they are become worn-out hacks.

But there are the busy few toiling after their own destruction in the fields of avarice and ambition, mistaking means for ends, and laying up for themselves loads of care and anxiety, till the grave opens, and they discover on its brink that the journey through this world was not to provide the things of this world, but those for the world to come. They are like travellers from a distant country arriving on the shores of the boundless ocean, encumbered with everything but what pertains to their voyage. Though they have used their time it was only to abuse it, and their labour has been worse than vain.

If we would live as we ought to do, we must so enjoy the present that we may look upon the past with pleasure, and upon the future with hope. The more we can bring ourselves to consider the importance of the future, the more likely we are duly to regulate the present; and the happiness of this life mainly depends upon our reference to that in the life to come.

No. XXII.-WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 14, 1835.

ART OF DINING-(concluded.)

I CONCLUDED the article on the Art of Dining' in my last number with promising to make some observations on the use of champagne. Of whatever materials composed, I never knew a party that could be said to go off ill where there was a judiciously liberal supply of good champagne. I say judiciously liberal, because there may be too much as well as too little, though the error, comparatively speaking, is seldom on the side of excess; but I have seen, when a party has been raised to what I call the champagne point of conviviality, that an extra quantity has caused a retrograde movement, by clogging the digestive powers. In this, as in all other matters relating to the table, but here especially, much must depend upon the eye, the judgment, and the resolution of the master. He must have liberality to give, attention and skill to regulate, and courage to stop. There are two classes of dinner-givers, to whom I do not address myself on this subject, because I know it would be in vain. The first is that class who began their career and had their habits formed during the war, when champagne was double the price it is now. They gave it then like drops of blood, and I have never yet seen an instance of liberalization. The second class is that who merely give it as a part of their state, and deal it out to the state prisoners round their table only to tantalize them. I have no hope, then, of producing any effect except upon those who date their assumption of table government on this side the battle of Waterloo, and who have or are capable of acquiring the same contempt of show that I myself have.

To give champagne fair play it ought to be produced at the very beginning of dinner, or at any rate after one glass of sherry or madeira. Any other wines rather unfit the palate for it. The usual mode is, as with other delicacies, to produce it after the appetite is somewhat palled, and I have often thought it particularly ungallant and ungracious, where there are ladies, to keep it back till a late period of dinner, and such a practice often presents an absurd contrast of calculation and display. According to my doctrines, the champagne should be placed upon the table, so that all may take what they like, when they like, till the presiding genius pronounces in his own mind that there has been enough, which is not difficult to a practised eye. This supposes a supply at discretion up to the champagne point, which is very agreeable on particular occasions, or now and then without any particular occasion, but would not be convenient to

most people, or even desirable, if convenient. I am far from objecting to a limited supply, even the most limited—that is, one glass round; but I do object to the period when it is usually served, and to the uncertainty with which it is served. Where it is handed round, and meant to be so only once, twice, or any greater fixed number of times, to which limits there can be no objection, the rule I would lay down is, that it should be handed round after the first glass of sherry, and if more than once, without any other wine between, and that it should be contrived to notify beforehand what the supply will be. It might be thought rather awkward to make the communication. That, I think, would depend on custom and tact. I am sure I should have no hesitation in making it, and, at any rate, the awkward effects often arising from uncertainty would be much greater. What can exceed the awkwardness of two persons who are going to take wine together beating about the bush to get each the other to propose champagne-a scene I have frequently witnessed between the best bred people? What can exceed the awkwardness of asking for it when there is no more, or of waiting till a fresh supply is brought, contrary to the original intention? All these awkwardnesses are the consequences of uncertainty, and are much at variance with the ease that is essential to conviviality. An annunciation that there is champagne without limit, or that it will be handed round once or twice, or oftener, saves these embarrassments. If it is placed upon the table, I would make a similar annunciation, as indeed I always do, that there is to be one bottle or two, or more, or at discretion. Then people know what they are about, and are at their ease, for want of which there is no compensation. By means of previous annunciation, even the entertainers of the old school, and the men of state, might make their calculation available to a satisfactory purpose. The advantages of giving champagne with whatever limit, at the beginning of dinner, are these: that it has the greatest relish, that its exhilarating quality serves to start the guests, after which they seldom flag, and that it disposes people to take less of other wines after, which is a relative, and sometimes even an absolute, saving to the pocket of the host, and it is undoubtedly a saving to the constitutions of his guests. With wines as with meats, serving the most delicate first, diminishes consumption,—a desirable effect in all respects. I know that a couple of glasses round of champagne at the beginning of dinner will cause a less consumption, and with better effect, than the same quantity, or more, at a later period; and where there are ladies, the portion they choose to take is most grateful to them upon this plan, and often the only wine they wish to accept. At the present price

of champagne, if it is judiciously given, I believe it is on many occasions little or no additional expense, and its effect is always contributive of exhilaration. By promoting exhilaration it promotes digestion, and by diminishing the consumption of other and perhaps stronger wines is consequently favourable to health. No other wine produces an equal effect in increasing the success of a party; and a judicious champagne-giver is sure to win the goodwill and respect even of those who can command it at pleasure, because a great deal depends upon the mode of dispensing it. If it is handed round often, it should not be handed round quick, at least after the second glass, but at such intervals as the host points out. If it is placed upon the table within every one's reach, his nicely regulating power is necessary to give it sufficient, but to restrain over-circulation. As the only anxiety of many, who give parties regardless of expense, is that they should go off well, I must repeat that they cannot fail, if there is a liberal supply of good champagne, heartily given. Of course there will be various degrees of success depending upon various circumstances, but champagne can always turn the balance to the favourable side, and heartiness in giving will compensate for many defects in other particulars. I must here add, that in little fêtes champêtres champagne has great efficacy, and is a specific against that want of spirit that not unfrequently occurs; also on any convivial occasion, where there is an absence of something desirable in the way of comfort or convenience, or where any disappointment has happened, champagne is the most powerful auxiliary in remedying the omission, and making it forgotten. In short, where champagne goes right, nothing can well go wrong. I think it quite a waste to produce it unless it is iced, or at least of the temperature of cold spring water, and in hot weather its coldness is one of its most effective qualities. The less it is mixed with other wines the better it agrees with any one, and the objectionable effects attributed to it are often in reality the result of too much combination with other liquids. Taken simply and in due quantity, I think there are few constitutions to which it would not be beneficial, and I have frequently seen invalids who I have thought would have been all the better for an alterative course of it.

With respect to the kind of champagne to be preferred, that depends, I think, upon the occasion. The kind I have been alluding to throughout this article is the sparkling. I know many people affect to hold it in utter contempt in comparison with the still; but I suspect not a few of them do so to show their grandeur and their learning, rather than from their real taste. Undoubtedly still champagne, generally speaking, is a