Such is not the destiny awaiting yonder rosy group of smiling prattlers.
I love the rogues for the enlarged and animated countenances with
which they gaze upon the red spoils before them. Never speak to me of
gluttony. It is a natural and a noble appetite, redolent of health and
happiness, and I honour it. There is genius in the breathing expression
of those parted lips which, now that the good dame is about to commence
her impartial division, seem to anticipate, in a delightful agony of
expectation, the fulness of coming joy. Observe with how much vigour
that youthful Homer grasps his silver spoon! Would you have thought
those rose-bud lips could have admitted so vast a mouthful of
strawberries?--Yet, down they go that juvenile oesophagus, and, as
Shakspeare well expresses it, “leave not a wreck behind!” Turn your gaze
to this infantine Sappho. What unknown quantities of cream and sugar the
little cherub consumes!--Cold on the stomach! Pho! the idea is worthy of
a female Septuagenarian, doomed to the horrors of perpetual celibacy. If
she speak from experience, in heaven’s name, give her a glass of brandy,
and let her work out her miserable existence in fear and trembling.
If there be a merrier party of bon-vivants at this moment in
Christendom, may I never enter a garden again! Yet, at this very moment,
there are prime ministers sitting down to cabinet dinners, and seeing in
every guest another step in the ladder of ambition; at this very moment,
the table of the professional epicure is covered with all that is
_recherché_ in the annals of gastronomy; at this very moment, the bride
of yesternight takes her place of honour, for the first time, at the
table of her rich and titled husband. Alas! there are traitors at the
statesman’s board; there is poison and disease within the silver dishes
of the epicure; and there are silent but sad memories of days past away
for ever, strewed like withered flowers round the heart of the young
bride! But before you is a living garland, still blooming, unconscious
of the thousand cankers of earth and air.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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