many years of eminent usefulness to others, only by dint of the most
strenuous adherence to the strictest requirements of the Science of the
Physique. The writings of his brother, Mr. George Combe, and especially
the work I have just mentioned, the "Constitution of Man," also abound
in lessons of practical usefulness, which may be adopted irrespective of
his peculiar phrenological views. In the multitude of newer
publications these admirable books are already half-forgotten, but my
limited reading has afforded me no knowledge of anything superior to
them, as text-books for the young.
_Riding_ and _driving_ need no recommendation to insure their
popularity, as means of exercise. Both have many pleasure and
health-giving attractions.
Every young man should endeavor to acquire a thorough knowledge of both
riding and driving, not from a desire to emulate the ignoble
achievements of a horse-jockey, but as proper _accomplishments_ for a
gentleman.
The possession of a fine horse is a prolific source of high and innocent
enjoyment, and may often be secured by those whose purses are not taxed
for _cigars and wine_! Nothing can be more exhilarating than the
successful management of this spirited and generous animal, whether
under the saddle or in harness! Even plethoric, ponderous old Dr.
Johnson, admitted that "few things are so exciting as to be drawn
rapidly along in a post-chaise, over a smooth road, by a fine horse!"
Let me repeat, however, that young men should be content to promote
health and enjoyment by the moderate, gentleman-like gratification of
the pride of skill, in this respect. Like many other amusements, though
entirely innocent and unexceptionable when reasonably indulged in, its
abuse leads inevitably to the most debasing consequences.--Our dusty
high-roads very ill supply the place of the extensive public Parks and
gardens that furnish such agreeable places of resort for both riding and
driving, as well as for pedestrians, in most of the large cities of
Europe, but one may, at least, secure better air and more freedom of
space by resorting to them than to the streets, for every form of
exercise. And as it is a well established fact that agreeable and novel
associations for both the eye and the mind are essential concomitants of
beneficial exercise, we have every practical consideration united to
good taste in favor of eschewing the streets whenever fate permits.
"Oh! how canst thou renounce the boundless store
Of charms which Nature to her votaries yields,--
The warbling woodland, the resounding shore,
The pomp of groves and garniture of fields;
All that the genial ray of morning gilds,
And all that echoes to the song of even,
All that the mountain's sheltering bosom shields,
And all the dread magnificence of Heaven;--
O! how canst thou renounce and hope to be forgiven!"
BEATTIE
_Eating_ and _drinking_ are too closely connected with our general
subject of health, to be forgotten here.
That regard for Temperance which I have endeavored to commend to you, of
course yields a prominent place to habits in these respects.
In relation to _eating_, I strongly recommend the cultivation of _simple
tastes_, and the careful avoidance of every indulgence tending towards
sensuality.
Some knowledge of _Dietetics_ is essential to the adoption
of right opinions and practice on this point. For instance, no man
should wait for dire experience to enforce the truths that roast and
broiled meats possess the most nutritious qualities; that all _fried_
dishes are, necessarily, more or less unwholesome; that animal oils and
fatty substances require stronger digestive force for their assimilation
than persons of sedentary life usually possess; that warm bread, as a
rule, is unsuited to the human stomach, etc., etc. No one should
consider these matters unworthy of serious attention, though temporarily
free from inconvenience arising from neglecting them. Eventually, every
human constitution will exhibit painful proofs of all outrages committed
upon the laws by which its operations are governed; and the greater the
license permitted in youth, the severer will be the penalty exacted in
after years.
----"Mind and Body are so close combined,
Where Health of Body, Health of Mind you find."
Preserve, then, as you value the means of usefulness, the perfect play
of your mental powers--so easily trammelled by the clogging of the
machinery of the body--the unadulterated taste that is content with a
sufficiency of wholesome, well-cooked food to satisfy the demands of
healthful appetite. Cultivate no love of condiments, sauces and
stimulants; indulge no ambition to excel in dressing salads, classifying
_ragouts_, or in demonstrating, down to the nicety of a single
ingredient, the distinction between a home-made and an imported _pate de
foie gras_! Distinctions such as these may suffice for the worn-out
society of a corrupt civilization, but our countrymen--MEN--should shout
EXCELSIOR!
Abstract rules in relations to the hours proper for taking meals,
however carefully adapted to the security of health, in themselves
considered, must, of necessity, give place to those artificially imposed
by custom and convenience. Thus, though the practice of _dining late_ is
not sanctioned by Hygeia, it admits of question, whether, as the usages
of the business-world at present exists, it is not a wiser custom than
any other permitted by circumstance.
All who have given any attention to the subject know, that neither
bodily nor mental labor can be either comfortably or successfully
pursued directly after a full meal. Hence, then, those whose occupations
require their attention during several successive hours, may find the
habit of dining after the more imperative labors of the day are
accomplished, most conducive to health as well as convenience.
Still, it should not be forgotten, that long abstinence is likely to
produce the exhaustion that tells so surely and seriously upon the
constitution, of young persons especially. This may be prevented by
taking, systematically, a little light, simple nutriment, sufficient to
produce what is aptly termed the _stimulus of distention_ in that much
abused organ--the stomach. This practice regularly adhered to, will also
promote a collateral advantage, by acting as a security against the too
keen sharpening of appetite that tends to repletion in eating, and which
sometimes produces results similar to those exhibited by a
boa-constrictor after dining upon a whole buffalo, swallowed without the
previous ceremony of carving! One should never dine so heartily as to be
unfitted for the subsequent enjoyment of society, or of the lighter
pursuits of literature. _Deliberate and thorough mastication_ will more
beneficially, and quite as pleasurably, prolong the enjoyments of the
table, as a more hurried disposal of a large quantity of food. And
really I do not know how the most rigid economist of time, or the most
self-sacrificing devotee either of Mammon or of Literature, can more
judiciously devote an hour of each day than to the single purpose of
_dining_!
Happily for those whose self-respect does not always furnish the
sustaining power requisite for the maintenance of a principle, fashion
no longer requires of any man the use of even _wine_, much less of
stronger beverages. And with reference to the use of all alcoholic
stimulants, as well as of tobacco, I would remind you that _those only
who are not enslaved by appetite, are_ FREE! If you have acquired a
liking for wine or tobacco, and would abjure either, or both, you will
soon be convinced, by experiment, of the truth of Dr. Johnson's saying,
of which, by the way, his own life furnished a striking illustration,
that "_abstinence is easier than temperance_."
To prolong arguments against the habits of smoking and drinking, were a
work of supererogation, here. I will advance but one, which may,
possibly, possess the merit of novelty. Both have the effect, materially
to limit our enjoyment of the presence and conversation of
"Heaven's last, best gift to man!"
I cannot better dismiss this important topic than by quoting the
following passage from the writings of Sir Walter Raleigh:
"Except thou desire to hasten thy end, take this for a general
rule--that thou never add any artificial heat to thy body by wine or
spice, until thou find that time hath decayed thy natural heat; the
sooner thou dost begin to help nature the sooner she will forsake thee,
and leave thee to trust altogether to art."
In my youth, advice to young men was constantly commingled--whatever its
general tenor--with admonitions regarding the necessity for industry and
perseverance in those who would achieve worldly success. In these
utilitarian times, when all seem borne along upon a resistless current,
hurrying to the attainment of some practical end, engrossed by schemes
of political ambition, or devoted to the acquisition of wealth, a quiet
looker-on--as I am wont to regard myself--is tempted to counsel
"moderation in all things," contentment with the legitimate results of
honorable effort, the cultivation of habits of daily relaxation from the
severity of toil, of daily rest from the mental tension that is demanded
for successful competition in the arena of life.
The impression that _sleep_ is a sufficient restorative from the wearing
effects of otherwise ceaseless labor, or that _change of occupation_
furnishes all the relief that nature requires in this respect, is,
undoubtedly, erroneous. "The man," says an eminent student of humanity,
"who does not now allow himself two hours for relaxation after dinner,
will be _compelled_ to devote more time than that daily to the care of
his health, eventually."
To allow one's self to be so engrossed by any pursuit, however laudable
in itself, as to reserve no leisure for the claims of Society, of
Friendship, of Taste, is so irrational as to need nothing but reflection
to render it apparent. In a merely utilitarian view, it is unwise,
since, as AEsop has demonstrated, the bow that is never unbent soon
ceases to be fit for use; but there is, surely, a higher consideration,
addressed to the reason of man. Pope embodies it, in part, in the lines
----"God is paid when man receives,
_To enjoy is to obey_!"
To have an aim, a purpose in life, sufficiently engrossing to act as an
incentive to the exercise of all the powers of being, is essential to
health and happiness. But to pursue any one object to the exclusion of
all considerations for self-culture and intellectual enjoyment, is
destructive of everything worthy that name.
They who devote all the exertions of youth and manhood to the acquisition
of political distinction, or of gold, for instance--cherishing, meanwhile,
a sort of Arcadian dream of ultimately enjoying the pleasures of
intellectual communion, or the charms of the natural world, when the
heat and burden of the conflict of life shall be done--exhibit a most
deplorable ignorance of the truth that they will possess in age only
the crippled capacities that disuse has almost wholly robbed of vitality,
together with such as are prematurely worn out by being habitually
overtaxed.
On the contrary, those who believe that
"It is not all of life to live,"
and early establish a true standard of excellence, and acquaint
themselves with the immutable laws of our being, will so commingle
self-ennobling pursuits and enjoyments with industrious and
well-directed attention to the needful demands of practical life, as to
secure as much of _ever-present happiness_ as falls to the lot of
humanity, together with the enviable retrospection of an exalted
ambition, rightly fulfilled. They may also hope for the invaluable
possession of intellectual and moral developments to be matured in that
state of existence of which this is but the embryo. These are truisms, I
admit, my young friends, yet the spirit of the age impels their
iteration and re-iteration!
Burke's musical periods lamented the departure of the "age of chivalry."
Would that one gifted as he may revive the waning existence of the
social and domestic virtues, and inspire my young countrymen with an
ambition too lofty in its aspirations to permit the sacrifice of mental
and moral powers, of natural affections, and immortal aspirations, upon
the altars of Mammon!--shrines now yearly receiving from our country a
holocaust of sacrifices, to which battle-fields are as naught in
comparison.
But to return from this unpremeditated digression. Natural tastes and
individual circumstances must, to a considerable extent, determine the
relaxations and amusements most conducive to enjoyment and health.
You will scarcely need to be told that persons of sedentary habits, and
especially those devoted to literary occupations, should make _exercise
in the open air_ a daily recreation, and that it will best subserve the
purposes of pleasure and health when united with the advantages arising
from _cheerful companionship_.
Hence the superiority of walking, riding, driving, boating, and sporting
in its various forms, to all in-door exercises and amusements--and
especially to those tending rather to tax the brain than exercise the
body--for those whose mental powers are most taxed by their avocations.
On the other hand, there are those to whom the lighter investigations of
literature and science afford the most appropriate relief from the toils
of business.
Permit me, however, to enter my protest against the belief that a change
from the labors and duties of city life to the close sleeping-rooms, the
artificiality and excitement of a fashionable watering-place affords a
proper and healthful relief to a weary body and an overwrought brain.
Life at a watering-place is no more an equivalent for the pure air, the
simple habits, the wholesome food, the _repose of mind and heart_,
afforded by unadulterated country life, than immersion in a bathing-tub
is a satisfactory substitute for swimming in a living stream, or a
contemplation of the most exquisite picture of rural scenes, for a
glorious canter amid green fields and over breezy hills! Nor will
dancing half the night in heated rooms, late suppers, bowling-alleys and
billiards, not to speak of still more objectionable indulgences, restore
these devotees to study or business to their city-homes re-invigorated
for renewed action, as will the least laborious employments of the
farmer, the "sportive toil" of the naturalist, the varied enjoyments of
the traveller amid the wonders of our vast primeval forests, or of the
voyager who explores the attractions of our unrivalled chain of inland
lakes. People who do their thinking by proxy, and regulate their
enjoyments by the _on dit_ of the fashionable world, yearly spend money
enough at some crowded resort of the _beau monde_ (heaven save the
mark!) to enable them to make the tour of Europe, or buy a pretty villa
and grounds in the country, or do some deed "twice blessed," in that "it
blesseth him that gives and him that takes." In Scotland, in England, in
the North of Europe generally, men and women whose social position
necessarily involves refinement of habits and education, go, in little
congenial parties, into the mountains and among the lakes, visit spots
renowned in song and story, collect specimens of the wonders of nature,
"camp out," as they say at the West, eat simply, dress rationally--in
short, _really rusticate_, in happy independence alike of the thraldom
of fashion and the supremacy of convention. Thus in the Old World, among
the learned, the accomplished, the high-born. Here in Young America--let
the sallow cheek, the attenuated limbs, the dull eye and _blase_ air of
the youthful scions of many a noble old Revolutionary stock, attest only
too truly, a treasonous slavery to the most arbitrary and remorseless of
tyrants! Would that they may serve, at least, as beacons to warn you,
seasonably, against adding yourselves to the denizens of haunts where
"Unwieldly wealth, and cumbrous pomp repose;
And every want to luxury allied,
And every pang that _folly pays to pride_!"
* * * * *
I would that all my young countrymen might have looked upon the last
hours of my revered friend, John Quincy Adams, and thus learned the
impressive lessons taught by that solemn scene; lessons that--to use his
own appropriate language--
----"bid us seize the moments as they pass,
Snatch the retrieveless sun-beam as it flies,
Nor lose one sand of life's revolving glass--
Aspiring still, with energy sublime,
By virtuous deeds to give _Eternity to Time_!"[5]
[5] Concluding lines of Mr. Adams' "Address to the _Sun-Dial_ under the
window of the Hall of the House of Representatives."
It was, indeed, a fitting close of his long, noble life! Faithful to his
duty to his country, he maintained his post to the last, and fell, like
a true defender of liberty--renouncing his weapons only with his life.
Borne from the arena of senatorial strife to a couch hastily prepared
beneath the same roof that had so often echoed his words of dauntless
eloquence, attended by mourning friends, and receiving the tender
ministrations of the companion alike of his earlier and later manhood,
the flickering lamp of life slowly expired. After, apparently, reviewing
the lengthened retrospection of a temperate, rational, useful life, from
the boyish years
"Whose distant footsteps echoed through the corridors of Time,"
to the dying efforts of genius and patriotism, the hushed stillness of
that hallowed chamber at length rendered audible the sublime words--"IT
IS THE LAST OF EARTH! I AM CONTENT!"
I think it was during the administration of Sir Charles Bagot, the
immediate successor of Lord Durham, as Governor General of the Canadas,
that I had the pleasure to dine one day, at the house of a distinguished
civilian who held office under him, in company with the celebrated
traveller L----, and his friend, the well-known E---- G---- W----, a man
who, despite wealth, rank, and talent, paid a life-long penalty for a
youthful error. There were, also, present several members of the
Provincial Parliament, then in session at Kingston, which was, at that
time, the seat of government, and a number of ladies--those of the party
of Americans with whom I was travelling, and some others.
The conversation, very naturally, turned upon the national peculiarities
of the _Yankees_--as the English call, not the inhabitants of New
England alone, but the people of the North American States generally--in
consequence of the fact that the world-wide traveller had just completed
his first visit to our country. Some one asked him a leading question
respecting his impressions of us as a people, and more than one
good-humored sally was given and parried among us. At length L---- said,
so audibly and gravely as to arrest the attention of the whole company:
"I have really but two serious faults to charge upon Jonathan."
"May we be permitted to inquire what those are?" returned I.
"That he _repudiates his debts_, and _doesn't take time to eat his
dinner_."
When the general laugh had subsided, Mr. W---- remarked that, except when
at the best hotels in the larger cities, he had found less inducement
for dining deliberately in the United States than in most civilized
lands he had visited, in consequence of the prevalent bad cookery.
"The words of Goldsmith," said he,--
"'Heaven sends us good meat, but the devil sends cooks!'
were always present to my mind when at table there! They eschew honest
cold roast beef, as though there were poison in meat but once cooked,
served a second time, though Hamlet is authority for _our_ taste in that
respect.--The cold venison you did me the honor to compliment so highly,
at lunch, this morning, L----, would have been offered you _fried_ by
our good Yankee cousins!"
"The patron saint of _la cuisine_ forefend!" cried a smooth-browed
Englishman--"not re-cooked, I hope?"
"Assuredly!" returned W----, "I trust these ladies and Colonel Lunettes
will pardon me,--but such infamous stupidity is quite common. I soon
learned, however, the secret of preserving my "capacious stomach" in
unimpaired capacity for action, [an irresistibly comic glance downward
upon his portly person] and could, I thought, very readily explain--
'What is't that takes from _them_
Their stomach, pleasures, and their golden sleep,
Why they do bend their eyes upon the earth,
* * * * *
In thick ey'd musing and curs'd melancholy!'"
If the frank denunciations of this eccentric observer of life and
manners might otherwise have been regarded as impolite, his more severe
comments upon his own countrymen proved, at least, that no national
partiality swayed his judgment.
I remember his telling me the following anecdote, as we chatted over our
coffee, after joining the ladies in the evening:--In answer to some
inquiry on my part, respecting the social condition of _the people_--the
peasantry, as he called them, of the Provinces, he spoke in unmitigated
condemnation of their ignorance, and especially of their insolence and
boorishness. "Get L---- to tell you," said he, "how nearly he and his
servants were frozen to death one fierce night, while an infernal
gate-keeper opposed his road-right. Then, again, the other morning, Mrs.
M---- (our hostess) who like every other lady here, except, perhaps,
Lady Bagot, goes to market every day, was referred by a man, from whom
she inquired for potatoes, to an old crone, with the words--'This _lady_
sell them,--here is _a woman_ who wants to buy potatoes!'"
The following morning, while our American party were driving out to the
superb Fort that protects the Harbor of Kingston, to visit which we had
been politely furnished with a permit by an official friend, I
endeavored to draw from a very charming and accomplished lady the secret
of her unusual silence and reserve at dinner the evening before. She is
really a celebrity, as much for her remarkable conversational powers, as
for any other reason, perhaps, and I had, therefore, the more regretted
her not joining in the conversation.
"What made the mystery more difficult of solution," said one of the
other ladies, "was the equally imperturbable gravity of that handsome
Frenchman who sat beside Virginia."
"Handsome!" retorted Virginia, "do you call that man handsome!--his high
cheek bones and swarthy complexion show his Indian blood rather too
plainly for my taste, I must confess."
"That commingling of races is very common here, Virginia," said I, "Mr.
E---- is a somewhat prominent member of the Canadian Parliament. I heard
a speech from him, in French, yesterday morning, which was listened to
with marked attention. There were a number of ladies in the
_side-boxes_, too, and it is evident from his attention to his dress, if
for no other reason, that Mr. E---- is an _elegant_!"
"All that may be," rejoined Virginia, "but I have no fancy for light
blue 'unwhisperables,' as Tom calls them, nor for ruffled shirts!"
"A change has come o'er the spirit of your dream, most queenly daughter
of the 'sunny South!'--is this the sprightly _Americaine_ who won all
hearts the other day on the St. Lawrence,--from that magnificent British
officer, to the quiet old priest whose very beard seemed to laugh, at
least"----
"That, indeed, Col. Lunettes!--but for your ever-ready gallantry I would
exclaim--
'Man delights me not, nor woman either!'
but here we are at the entrance of the famous donjon keep!"
We spent some time in examining the--to the ladies--novel attractions of
the place. By-and-by, the fair Virginia, who had strayed off a little by
herself, called to me to come and explain the mode of using a port-hole
to her. In a few minutes, she said, in a low tone, sitting down, as she
spoke upon a dismounted cannon, "Col. Lunettes, I beg you not to allude
again to that--to the dinner, yesterday, or, at least, to my
embarrassment"----
"Your embarrassment, my dear girl!" I exclaimed, "you astonish me! Do
explain yourself"----
"Hush," returned my companion, looking furtively over her shoulder,
"that young Englishman seems to be engrossing the attention of the rest
of the party, and, perhaps, I shall have time to tell you"----