Many and many’s the time when I have not turned them to the best account. Oh, if I had now to begin life again, how many things should I correct! I might have done better this evening. Those abominable pears! I might have known they would not be worth the eating. Mutton, that was all well; doves, good again; crane, kid; well, I don’t see that I could have done much better.”
After a few minutes he got up half asleep, and put out all the lights but one small lamp, with which he made his way into his own bed-closet. “All is vanity,” he continued, with a slow, grave utterance, “all is vanity but eating and drinking. It does not pay to serve the gods except for this. What’s fame? what’s glory? what’s power? smoke. I’ve often thought the hog is the only really wise animal. We should be happier if we were all hogs. Hogs keep the end [pg 63]of life steadily in view; that’s why those toads of Christians will not eat them, lest they should get like them. Quiet, respectable, sensible enjoyment; not riot, or revel, or excess, or quarrelling. Life is short.” And with this undeniable sentiment he fell asleep.
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