An elegant abstinence is complimentary to any one, as, fed from the virgin essences of the season, his genius, dispositions, tastes, have no shame to blush for, and modestly claim the honor of being well bred. And one's table, like Apelles', may be fitly pictured with the beauty of sobriety on the one side, the deformity of excess on the other, the feast substantial as it is lyrical, praising itself and those who partake; and his guests as ready to compliment him, as Timotheus did Plato, when he said: "They who dine with the philosopher never complain the next morning." THE SEER'S RATIONS. Takes sunbeams, spring waters, Earth's juices, meads' creams, Bathes in floods of sweet ethers, Comes baptized from the streams; Guest of Him, the sweet-lipp'd, The Dreamer's quaint dreams. Mingles morals idyllic With Samian fable, Sage seasoned from cruets, Of Plutarch's chaste table. Pledges Zeus, Zoroaster, Tastes Cana's glad cheer, Suns, globes, on his trencher, The elements there. Bowls of sunrise for breakfast Brimful of the East, Foaming flagons of frolic His evening's gay feast. Sov'reign solids of nature, Solar seeds of the sphere, Olympian viand Surprising as rare. Thus baiting his genius, His wonderful word Brings poets and sibyls To sup at his board. Feeds thus and thus fares he, Speeds thus and thus cares he, Thus faces and graces Life's long euthanasies, His gifts unabated, Transfigured, translated-- The idealist prudent, Saint, poet, priest, student, Philosopher, he. VIII.--ECONOMIES. "----Much will always wanting be To him who much desires. Thrice happy he To whom the indulgency of heaven, With sparing hand, but just enough has given." Life, when hospitably taken, is a simple affair. Very little suffices to enrich us. Being, a fountain and fireside, a web of cloth, a garden, a few friends, and good books, a chosen task, health and peace of mind--these are a competent estate, embracing all we need. "Like to one's fortune should be his expense, Men's fortunes rightly held in reverence." The country opens the best advantages for these enjoyments. And where one has the privilege of choosing for himself, he prefers the scope for seclusion and society that a homestead implies. For his human satisfactions, he draws upon his dispositions and gifts. His appetites he willingly digs for, nor cares to cherish any that he is ashamed to own. For nobler pleasures he delights to climb. His best estate is in himself. He needs little beside. With good sense for his main portion to make the most of that little, he may well consider Hesiod's opinion of weight: "The half is better far than whole."