roud luxurious pomp is swollen up of late."

How many more dishes and how many more wines do we put on the table than
our ancestors afforded. Pope writes of Balaam's housekeeping:--

"A single dish the week day meal affords,
An added pudding solemnized the Lord's."

Then when he became rich:--

"Live like yourself was soon my lady's word,
And lo, two puddings smoked upon the board!"

Then his description of his own table is worth noting:--

"Content with little, I can manage here
On brocoli and mutton round the year,
'Tis true no turbots dignify my boards,
But gudgeons, flounders, what my Thames affords.

To Hounslow Heath I point, and Banstead Down;
Thence comes your mutton, and these chicks my own,
From yon old walnut tree a show'r shall fall,
And grapes, long lingering on my only wall,
And figs from standard and espalier join--
The deuce is in you if you cannot dine."

Now, however, the whole world is put under contribution to supply our
daily meals, and the palate is being constantly stimulated, and in some
degree impaired by a variety of food and wine. And I am sure that the
effect of this is to produce a distaste for wholesome food. I daresay we
have all heard of the Scotchman who had drunk too much whisky. He said,
"I can't drink water; it turns sae acid on the stomach." This increase
of the luxuries of the table, beyond what was the habit of our fathers,
is shown chiefly, I think, when we are at home and alone; but if one is
visiting or entertaining others, how often is one perfectly bored by the
quantity of food and drink which is handed round. Things in season and
out of season, perhaps ill assorted, ill cooked, cold, and calculated to
make one extremely ill, but no doubt costing a great deal of money, time,
and anxiety to the givers of the feast. Then we fall to grumbling, and
are discontented with having too much, but having acquired a habit of
expecting it we grumble still more if there is not as much as usual
provided.

"He knows to live, who keeps the middle state,
And neither leans on this side or on that;
Nor stops, for one bad cork, his butler's pay;
Swears, like Albutius, a good cook away;
Nor lets, like Nevius, every error pass--
The musty wine, foul cloth, or greasy glass."

But what is the modern idea of a dinner?--

"After oysters Sauterne; then sherry, champagne,
E'er one bottle goes comes another again;