by Chet Day
I've
annotated Discourses on the Sober Life from the perspective of a practicing
vegetarian.
I
best come to terms with other authors or thinkers when I take notes and write
about the ideas their work sparks in my mind. And since in the spring of 1993
I wanted very much to apprehend as much as I could of Luigi Cornaro's Discourses,
I decided to place aside my rookie status as a health seeker and write an article
about this wonderful Renaissance Italian.
But,
after fiddling with the article for a few days, I realized I really wanted to
annotate the Discourses a whole lot more than I wanted to write an article
about them. Thus began this project, a modern annotation of a work well over 400
years old, a commentary on the ideas, insights, and experiences of a thoughtful,
gracious, and fascinating individual who lived to attain the age of 102 years
after the doctors of his time told him he would die before seeing forty.
During
those health-filled and happy decades, Cornaro wrote extensively. As he tells
us, he wielded his pen to improve society and to improve people as individuals.
In addition to the four Discourses you'll read in these pages, he
also created plays and political tracts. At the same time, he engaged in extensive
correspondence with those who wanted to learn more about how he attained and then
maintained his fabulous state of health.
Luigi
Cornaro lived to the age of 102 by following two cardinal rules:
1)
Eat what agrees with your digestion (quality);
2) Eat as little as possible
(quantity).
Our
author suggests that by following these rules and by also stopping bad habits
and breathing fresh air and taking sunlight and a few other simple steps, one's
emotions come into balance along with one's health.
I
can't unequivocally confirm the truths of these two rules for life, but I can
say that the less I eat of foods that agree with me, the healthier I feel. And
we certainly have endorsement of Cornaro's rules from other individuals who have
lived naturally and moderately for many years. Repeatedly, these individuals stress
that over-eating causes more harm for more people than just about any other human
habit.
If
you aspire to live happily, healthily, and with all your faculties intact for
100 years or more, the following pages will show you how one individual did it.
Welcome
to the world of Luigi Cornaro!
The First Discourse:
On a Temperate and Healthful Life
by Luigi Cornaro
It
is universally agreed, that custom, in time, becomes a second nature, forcing
men to use that, whether good or bad, to which they have been habituated; in fact,
we see habit, in many instances, gain the ascendancy over reason. This is so undeniably
true, that virtuous men, by keeping company with wicked, often fall into the same
vicious course of life. Seeing and considering all this, I have decided to write
on the vice of intemperance in eating and drinking.
Now,
though all are agreed that intemperance is the parent of gluttony, and sober living
the offspring of abstemiousness; yet, owing to the power of custom, the former
is considered a virtue, and the latter as mean and avaricious; and so many men
are blinded and besotted to such a degree, that they come to the age of forty
or fifty, burdened with strange and painful infirmities, which render them decrepit
and useless; whereas, had they lived temperately and soberly, they would in all
probability have been sound and hearty, to the age of eighty and upward.
Strive for simplicity
To remedy this state of things, it is requisite
that men should live up to the simplicity dictated by nature, which teaches us
to be content with little, and accustom ourselves to eat no more than is absolutely
necessary to support life, remembering that all excess causes disease and leads
to death. How many friends of mine, men of the finest understanding and most amiable
disposition, have I seen carried off in the flower of their manhood by reason
of excess and overfeeding, who, had they been temperate, would now be living,
and ornaments to society, and whose company I should enjoy with as much pleasure
as I am now deprived of it with concern.
In
order, therefore, to put a stop to so great an evil, I have resolved, in this
short discourse, to demonstrate that intemperance is an abuse which may be removed,
and that the good old sober living may be substituted in its stead; and this I
undertake the more readily, as many young men of the best understanding have urged
upon me its necessity because of many of their parents having died in middle life,
while I remain so sound and hearty at the age of eighty-one. These young men express
a desire to reach the same term, nature not forbidding us to wish for longevity;
and old age, being, in fact, that time of life in which prudence can be best exercised,
and the fruits of all the other virtues enjoyed with the least opposition, the
senses then being so subdued, that man gives himself up entirely to reason. They
besought me to let them know the method pursued by me to attain it; and then finding
them intent on so laudable a pursuit, I resolved to treat of that method, in order
to be of service, not only to them, but to all those who may be willing to peruse
this discourse.
Reasons
to renounce intemperance
I shall therefore give my reasons for renouncing
intemperance and betaking myself to a sober course of life, and declare freely
the method pursued by me for that purpose, and then show the good effect upon
me; from whence it will be seen how easy it is to remove the abuse of free living.
I shall conclude, by showing the many conveniences and blessings of temperate
life.
I say,
then, that the heavy train of infirmities which had made great inroads on my constitution
were my motives for renouncing intemperance, in the matter of too freely eating
and drinking, to which I had been addicted, so that, in consequence of it, my
stomach became disordered, and I suffered much pain from colic and gout, attended
by that which was still worse, an almost continual slow fever, a stomach generally
out of order, and a perpetual thirst. From these disorders, the best delivery
I had to hope was death.
Finding
myself, therefore, between my thirty-fifth and fortieth year in such unhappy circumstances,
and having tried everything that could be thought of to relieve me, but to no
purpose, the physicians gave me to understand that there was one method left to
get the better of my complaints, provided I would resolve to use it, and patiently
persevere. This was to live a strictly sober and regular life, which would be
of the greatest efficacy; and that of this I might convince myself, since, by
my disorders I was become infirm, though not reduced so low but that a regular
life might still recover me. They further added, that, if I did not at once adopt
this method of strict living, I should in a few months receive no benefit from
it, and that in a few more I must resign myself to death.
Luigi
decides to change his life
These arguments made such an impression on
me, that, mortified as I was, besides, by the thought of dying in the prime of
life, though at the same time perpetually tormented by various diseases, I immediately
resolved, in order to avoid at once both disease and death, to betake myself to
a regular course of life. Having upon this inquired of them what rules I should
follow, they told me that I must only use food, solid or liquid, such as is generally
prescribed to sick persons; and both sparingly. These directions, to say the truth,
they had before given me, but I had been impatient of such restraint, and had
eaten and drank freely of those things I had desired. But, when I had once resolved
to live soberly, and according to the dictates of reason, feeling it was my duty
as a man so to do, I entered with so much resolution upon this new course of life,
that nothing since has been able to divert me from it. The consequence was, that
in a few days I began to perceive that such a course agreed well with me; and,
by pursuing it, I found myself in less than a year (some people, perhaps, will
not believe it) entirely freed from all my complaints.
Having
thus recovered my health, I began seriously to consider the power of temperance:
if it had efficacy enough to subdue such grievous disorders as mine it must also
have power to preserve me in health and strengthen my bad constitution. I therefore
applied myself diligently to discover what kinds of food suited me best.
Please
the stomach and not the palate!
But, first, I resolved to try whether
those which pleased my palate were agreeable to my stomach, so that I might judge
of the truth of the proverb, which is so universally held, namely: That, whatever
pleases the palate, must agree with the stomach, or, that whatever is palatable
must be wholesome and nourishing. The issue was, that I found it to be false,
for I soon found that many things which pleased my palate, disagreed with my stomach.
Having thus convinced myself that the proverb in question was false, I gave over
the use of such meats and wines as did not suit me, and chose those which by experience
I found agreed well with me, taking only as much as I could easily digest, having
strict regard to quantity as well as quality; and contrived matters so as never
to cloy my stomach with eating or drinking, and always rose from the table with
a disposition to eat and drink more. In this I conformed to the proverb, which
says, that a man to consult his health must check his appetite.
Having
in this manner conquered intemperance I betook myself entirely to a temperate
and regular life, and this it was which effected me that alteration already mentioned,
that is, in less than a year, it rid me of all those disorders which had taken
such hold on me, and which appeared at the time incurable. It had likewise this
other good effect, that I no longer experienced those annual fits of sickness,
with which I used to be afflicted while I followed my ordinary free manner of
eating and drinking. I also became exceedingly healthy, as I have continued from
that time to this day; and for no other reason than that I never transgressed
against regularity and strict moderation.
In
consequence, therefore, of my taking such methods, I have always enjoyed, and,
God be praised, still enjoy, the best of health. It is true, that, besides the
two most important rules relative to eating and drinking, which I have ever been
very scrupulous to observe (that is, not to take of either, more than my stomach
could easily digest, and to use only those things which agree with me), I have
carefully avoided, as far as possible, all extreme heat, cold, extraordinary fatigue,
interruption of my usual hours of rest, and staying long in bad air. I likewise
did all that lay in my power, to avoid those evils, which we do not find it so
easy to remove: melancholy, hatred, and other violent passions, which appear to
have the greatest influence on our bodies. I have not, however, been able to guard
so well against these disorders, as not to suffer myself now and then to be hurried
away by them. But I have discovered this fact, that these passions, have, in the
main, no great influence over bodies governed by the two foregoing rules of eating
and drinking.
Not more illness, ever
Galen, who was an eminent
physician, has said, that, so long as he followed these two rules, he suffered
but little from such disorders, so little, that they never gave him above a day's
uneasiness. That what he says is true, I am a living witness, and so are many
others who know me, and have seen me, how often I have been exposed to heats and
colds, and disagreeable changes of weather, without taking harm, and have likewise
seen me (owing to various misfortunes which have more than once befallen me) greatly
disturbed in mind; these things, however, did me but little harm, whereas, other
members of my family, who followed not my way of living, were greatly disturbed;
such in a word, was their grief and dejection at seeing me involved in expensive
law suits, commenced against me by great and powerful men, that, fearing I should
be ruined, they were seized with great melancholy humor, with which intemperate
bodies always abound, and such influence had it over their bodies, that they were
carried off before their time; whereas, I suffered nothing on the occasion, as
I had in me no superfluous humors of that kind; nay, in order to keep up my spirits,
I brought myself to think that God had permitted these suits against me, in order
to make me more sensible of my strength of body and mind; and that I should get
the better of them with honor and advantage, as it, in fact, came to pass; for,
at last, I obtained a decree exceedingly favorable to my fortune and character.
Luigi describes
his accident
But I may go a step farther, and show how favorable to recovery
is a temperate life, in case of accident. At the age of seventy years, I happened,
as is often the case, to be in a coach, which, going at a smart rate, was upset,
and in that condition drawn a considerable way before the horses could be stopped.
I received so many shocks and bruises, that I was taken out with my head and body
terribly battered, and a dislocated leg and arm. When the physicians saw me in
so bad a plight, they concluded that in three days I should die, but thought they
would try what bleeding and purging would do, in order to prevent inflammation
and fever.
And refuses help from the "doctors"
But
I, on the contrary, knowing that, by reason of the sober life I had lived for
so many years, my blood was in good and pure condition, refused to be either purged
or bled. I just caused my arm and leg to be set, and suffered myself to be rubbed
with some oils, which they said were proper on the occasion. Thus, without using
any other kind of remedy, I recovered, as I thought I should, without feeling
the least alteration in myself, or any bad effects from the accident; a thing
which appeared no less than miraculous in the eyes of the physicians.
Hence, we may infer, that he who leads a sober and regular life, and commits
no excess in his diet, can suffer but little from mental disorders or external
accidents. On the contrary, I conclude, especially from the late trial I have
had, that excesses in eating and drinking are often fatal. Four years ago, I consented
to increase the quantity of my food by two ounces, my friends and relations having,
for some time past, urged upon me the necessity of such increase, that the quantity
I took was too little for one so advanced in years; against this, I urged that
nature was content with little, and that with this small quantity I had preserved
myself for many years in health and activity, that I believed as a man advanced
in years, his stomach grew weaker, and therefore the tendency should be to lessen
the amount of food rather than to increase.
I further reminded them of
the two proverbs, which say: he who has a mind to eat a great deal, must eat but
little; eating little makes life long, and, living long, he must eat much; and
the other proverb was: that, what we leave after making a hearty meal, does us
more good than what we have eaten. But my arguments and proverbs were not able
to prevent them teasing me upon the subject; therefore, not to appear obstinate,
or affecting to know more than the physicians themselves, but above all, to please
my family, I consented to the increase before mentioned; so that, whereas previous,
what with bread, meat, the yolk of an egg, and soup, I ate as much as twelve ounces,
neither more nor less, I now increased it to fourteen; and whereas before I drank
but fourteen ounces of wine, I now increased it to sixteen.
This increase,
had, in eight days' time, such an effect upon me, that, from being cheerful and
brisk, I began to be peevish and melancholy, so that nothing could please me.
On the twelfth day, I was attacked with a violent pain in my side, which lasted
twenty-two hours and was followed by a fever, which continued thirty-five days
without any respite, insomuch that all looked upon me as a dead man; but, God
be praised, I recovered, and I am positive that it was the great regularity I
had observed for so many years, and that only, which rescued me from the jaws
of death.
Orderly
living is, doubtless, a most certain cause and foundation of health and long life;
nay, I say it is the only true medicine, and whoever weighs the matter well, will
come to this conclusion. Hence it is, that when the physician comes to visit a
patient, the first thing he prescribes is regular living, and certainly to avoid
excess. Now, if the patient after recovery should continue so to live, he could
not be sick again, and if a very small quantity of food is sufficient to restore
his health, then but a slight addition is necessary for the continuance of the
same; and so, for the future, he would want neither physician nor physic.
Become your own physician
Nay, by attending to what I have said,
he would become his own physician, and indeed, the best he could have, since,
in fact, no man should be a perfect physician to any but himself. The reason is,
that any man, by repeated trials, may acquire a perfect knowledge of his own constitution,
the kinds of food and drink which agree with him best. These repeated trials are
necessary, as there is a great variety in the nature and stomachs of persons.
I found that old wine did not suit me, but that the new wines did; and, after
long practice, I discovered that many things, which might not be injurious to
others, were not good for me. Now, where is the physician who could have informed
me which to take, and which to avoid, since I by long observation, could scarce
discover these things.
It
follows, therefore, that it is impossible to be a perfect physician to another.
A man cannot have a better guide than himself, nor any physic better than a regular
life. I do not, however, mean that for the knowledge and cure of such disorders
as befall those who live an irregular life there is no occasion for a physician
and that his assistance ought to be slighted; such persons should at once call
in medical aid, in case of sickness. But, for the bare purpose of keeping ourselves
in good health, I am of opinion, that we should consider this regular life as
our physician, since it preserves men, even those of a weak constitution, in health;
makes them live sound and hearty, to the age of one hundred and upward, and prevents
their dying of sickness, or through the corruption of their humors, but merely
by the natural decay, which at the last must come to all.
Alas, few
discover these truths
These things, however, are discovered but by few,
for men, for the most part, are sensual and intemperate, and love to satisfy their
appetites, and to commit every excess; and, by way of apology, say that they prefer
a short and self-indulgent life, to a long and self-denying one, not knowing that
those men are most truly happy who keep their appetites in subjection. Thus have
I found it, and I prefer to live temperately, so that I may live long and be useful.
Had I not been temperate, I should never have written these tracts, which I have
the pleasure of thinking will be serviceable to others. Sensual men affirm that
no man can live a regular life.
To this I answer, that Galen, who was
a great physician, led such a life, and chose it as the best physic. The same
did Plato, Cicero, Isocrates, and many other great men of former times, whom not
to tire the reader I forbear naming; and, in our days, Pope Paul Farnese and Cardinal
Bembo; and it was for that reason they lived so long. Therefore, since many have
led this life, and many are actually leading it, surely all might conform to it,
and the more so, as no great difficulty attends it. Cicero affirms that nothing
is needed, but to be in good earnest. Plato, you say, though he himself lived
thus regularly, affirms that, in republics, men often cannot do so, being obliged
to expose themselves to various hardships and changes, which are incompatible
with a regular life. I answer, that men who have to undergo these things, would
be the better able to bear such hardships by being strictly temperate in matters
of eating and drinking.
Here
it may be objected, that he who leads this strict and regular life, having constantly
when well made use only of simple food fit for the sick, and in small quantities,
has when himself in sickness, no recourse left in matters of diet. To which I
reply, that, whoever leads a regular life, cannot be sick or at least but seldom.
By a regular life I mean, that a man shall ascertain for himself, how small a
quantity of food and drink is sufficient to supply the daily wants of his nature
and then having done this, and found out the kinds of food and drink best suited
for his constitution, he shall, having formed his plans, strictly adhere to his
resolutions and principles, not being careful at one time, and self-indulgent
at others, for by so doing, he would gain but little benefit; but taking care
always to avoid excess, which any man can certainly do at all times, and under
all circumstances, if he is determined. I say then, that he who thus lives cannot
be sick, or but seldom, and for a short time, because, by regular living, he destroys
every seed of sickness, and thus, by removing the cause, prevents the effect;
so that he who pursues a regular and strictly moderate life, need not fear illness,
for his blood having become pure, and free from all bad humors, it is not possible
that he can fall sick.
Quantity
rather than quality for many
Since, therefore, it appears that a regular
life is also profitable and virtuous, it ought to be universally followed, and
more so, as it does not clash with duties of any kind, but is easy to all. Neither
is it necessary that all should eat as little as I do--twelve ounces--or not to
eat of many things from which I, because of the natural weakness of my stomach,
abstain. Those with whom all kinds of food agree, may eat of such, only they are
forbidden to eat a greater quantity, even of that which agrees with them best,
than their stomachs can with ease digest. The same is to be understood of drink.
The only rule for such to observe in eating and drinking, is the quantity rather
than the quality; but for those who, like myself, are weak of constitution, these
must not only be careful as to quantity, but also to quality, partaking only of
such things as are simple, and easy to digest.
Let
no one tell me that there are numbers, who, though they live most irregularly,
attain in health and spirits to a great age. This argument is grounded on uncertainty
and hazard, and such cases are rare. Men should not, therefore, because of these
exceptional cases, be persuaded to irregularity or indulgence. Whoever, trusting
to the strength of his constitution, slights these observations, may expect to
suffer by so doing, and to live inconstant danger of disease and death. I therefore
affirm, that a man, even of a bad constitution, who leads a strictly regular and
sober life, is surer of a long one, than he of the best constitution who lives
carelessly and irregularly.
If men have a mind to live long and healthy,
and die without sickness of body or mind, but by mere dissolution, they must submit
to a regular and abstemious life, for such a life keeps the blood clean and pure.
It suffers no vapors to ascend from the stomach to the head; hence, the brain
of him who thus lives enjoys constant serenity; he can soar above the low and
groveling concerns of this life to the exalted and beautiful contemplation of
heavenly things to his exceeding comfort and satisfaction. He then truly discerns
the brutality of those excesses into which men fall, and which bring them misery
here and hereafter; while he may with comfort look forward to a long life, conscious
that, through the mercy of God, he has relinquished the paths of vice and intemperance,
never again to enter them; and, through the merits of our Saviour Jesus Christ,
to die in His favor. He therefore does not suffer himself to be cast down with
the thoughts of death, knowing that it will not attack him violently, or by surprise,
or with sharp pains and feverish sensations, but will come upon him with ease
and gentleness; like a lamp, the oil of which is exhausted, he will pass gently,
and without any sickness, from this terrestrial and mortal, to a celestial and
eternal life.
Some
sensual unthinking persons affirm that a long life is no great blessing, and that
the state of a man, who has passed his seventy-fifth year, cannot really be called
life; but this is wrong, as I shall fully prove; and it is my sincere wish, that
all men would endeavor to attain my age, that they might enjoy that period of
life, which of all others is most desirable.
A
true relish for life!
I will therefore give an account of my recreations,
and the relish which I find at this stage of life. There are many who can give
testimony as to the happiness of my life. In the first place, they see with astonishment
the good state of my health and spirits; how I mount my horse without assistance,
how I not only ascend a flight of stairs, but can climb a hill with greatest ease.
Then, how gay and good-humored I am; my mind ever undisturbed, in fact, joy and
peace having fixed there above in my breast. Moreover, they know in what manner
I spend my time, so as never to find life weary: I pass my hours in great delight
and pleasure, in converse with men of good sense and intellectual culture; then,
when I cannot enjoy their company, I betake myself to the reading of some good
book. When I have read as much as I like, I write; endeavoring in this, as in
other things to be of service to others; and these things I do with the greatest
ease to myself, living in a pleasant house in the most beautiful quarter of this
noble city of Padua.
Besides this house, I have my gardens, supplied
with pleasant streams in which I always find something to do which amuses me.
Nor are my recreations rendered less agreeable by the failing of any of my senses,
for they are all, thank God, perfect, particularly my palate, which now relishes
better the simple fare I have, than it formerly did the most delicate dishes,
when I led an irregular life. Nor does the change of beds give me any uneasiness:
I can sleep everywhere soundly and quietly, and my dreams are pleasant and delightful.
It is likewise with the greatest pleasure I behold the success of an undertaking
so important to this state; I mean that of draining and improving so many uncultivated
pieces of ground, an undertaking begun within my memory, but which I thought I
should never see completed; nevertheless I have, and was even in person assisting
in the work for two months together, in those marshy places during the heat in
summer, without ever finding myself worse for the fatigues or inconveniences I
suffered; of so much efficacy is that orderly life, which I everywhere constantly
lead.
Such are some of the recreations and diversions of my old age,
which is so much the more to be valued than the old age, or even the youth of
other men; as, being freed by God's grace from the perturbations of the mind and
the infirmities of the body, I no longer experience any of those contrary emotions
which rack such a number of young men and as many old ones, who, by reason of
their careless living and intemperate habits, are destitute of health and strength,
and consequently of all true enjoyment.
And
if it be lawful to compare little matters to affairs of importance, I will further
venture to say that such are the effects of this sober life, that, at my present
age of eighty-three, I have been able to write an entertaining comedy, abounding
with innocent mirth and pleasant jests.
I
have yet another comfort which I will mention; that of seeing a kind of immortality
in a succession of descendants; for, as often as I return home, I find before
me, not one or two, but eleven grandchildren, the oldest of them eighteen, all
the offspring of one father and mother, and all blessed with good health. Some
of the youngest I play with; those older, I make companions of; and, as nature
has bestowed good voices upon them, I amuse myself by hearing them sing, and play
on different instruments. Nay, I sing myself, as I have a better voice now, clearer
and louder, than at any period of my life. Such are the recreations of my old
age.
Wouldn't
change for anything
Whence it appears, that the life I lead is not gloomy,
but cheerful, and I would not exchange my manner of living and my gray hairs,
with that of even a young man, having the best constitution, who gave way to his
appetites; knowing, as I do, that such are daily subject to a thousand kinds of
ailments and death. I remember my own conduct in early life, and I know how foolhardy
are young men; how apt they are to presume on their strength in all their actions,
and by reason of their little experience, are over-sanguine in their expectations.
Hence, they often expose themselves rashly to every kind of danger, and, banishing
reason, bow their necks to the yoke of concupiscence, and endeavor to gratify
all their appetites, not minding, fools as they are, that they thereby hasten
the approach of what they would most willingly avoid, sickness and death.
And
these are two great evils to all men who live a free life; the one is troublesome
and painful, the other, dreadful and insupportable, especially when they reflect
on the errors to which this mortal life is subject, and on the vengeance which
the justice of God is wont to take on sinners. Whereas, I, in my old age, praise
to the Almighty, am exempt from these torments; from the first, because I cannot
fall sick, having removed all the cause of illness by my regularity and moderation;
from the other, that of death, because from so many years' experience, I have
learned to obey reason; whereas, I not only think it a great folly to fear that
which cannot be avoided, but likewise firmly expect some consolation from the
grace of Jesus Christ, when I arrive at that period.
But
though I know I must, like others, reach that term, it is yet at so great a distance
that I cannot discern it, because I know I shall not die except by mere dissolution,
having already, by my regular course of life, shut up all other avenues of death,
and thus prevented the humors of my body making any other way upon me, than that
which I must expect from the elements employed in the composition of this mortal
frame. I am not so simple as not to know that, as I was born, so I must die; but
the natural death that I speak of does not overtake one, until after a long course
of years; and even then, I do not expect the pain and agony which most men suffer
when they die. But I, by God's blessing, reckon that I have still a long time
to live in health and spirits, and enjoy this beautiful world, which is, indeed,
beautiful to those who know how to make it so, but its beauty can only be realized
by those who, by reason of temperance and virtue, enjoy sound health of body and
mind.
Now, if
this sober and moderate manner of living brings so much happiness; if the blessings
that attend it are so stable and permanent, then I beseech every man of sound
judgment to embrace this valuable treasure, that of a long and healthful life,
a treasure which exceeds all other worldly blessings, and, therefore, should be
sought after; for what is wealth and abundance to a man who is possessed with
a feeble and sickly body? This is that divine sobriety, agreeable to God, the
friend of nature, the daughter of reason, the sister of all the virtues, the companion
of temperate living, modest, courteous, content with little, regular, and perfectly
mistress of all her operations. From her, as from their proper root, spring life,
health, cheerfulness, industry, learning and all those actions and employments
worthy of noble and generous minds.
The laws of God are all in her favor.
Repletion, excess, intemperance, superfluous humors, diseases, fevers, pains and
the dangers of death, vanish in her presence, as mists before the sun. Her comeliness
ravishes every well-disposed mind. Her influence is so sure, as to promise to
all a long and agreeable life. And, lastly, she promises to be a mild and pleasant
guardian of life teaching how to ward off the attacks of death. Strict sobriety,
in eating and drinking, renders the senses and understanding clear, the memory
tenacious, the body lively and strong, the movements regular and easy; and the
soul, feeling so little of her earthly burden, experiences much of her natural
liberty. The man thus enjoys a pleasing and agreeable harmony, there being nothing
in his system to disturb; for his blood is pure, and runs freely through his veins,
and the heat of his body is mild and temperate.