of all others in the world (says Plato, lib. 2, De Republica) the most philosophical. If you have seen him, you have remarked with what devotion he watches it; with what care he guards it; how fervently he holds it; how prudently he gobbets it; with what affection he breaks it; and with what diligence he sucks it. To what end all this? What are the hopes of his labour? What doth he expect to reap thereby? Nothing but a little marrow. True it is that this little is more delicious than the great quantities of other sorts of meat, because the marrow (as Galen testifieth, iii. Facult. Nat., and xi. De Usu Partium) is a nourishment most perfectly elaboured by nature. In imitation of this dog, it becomes you to be wise to smell, feel, and have in estimation these fair books, de haulte gresse, light in the pursuit, and bold at the encounter. Then you must, by a curious reading and frequent meditation, break the bone and suck out the substantific marrow,-that is what I mean by these Pythagorean symbols,— with assured hope of becoming well-advised and valiant by the said reading; for in it you shall find another kind of taste, and a doctrine more profound, which will disclose unto you deep doctrines and dreadful mysteries, as well in what concerneth our religion as matters of the public state and life economical. THE FEAST AT THE BIRTH OF GARGANTUA. [Gargantua was the son of Grandgousier-" a bon raillard in his wine, who loved to drink neat as much as any man who then was in the world, and willingly would eat salt meat"-and Gargamelle, his wife, daughter to the king of the Parpaillos. It would appear that Grandgousier was a Tourangeau by birth, and that he lived in or near the town of Chinon, because, on the day of his son's birth, he had invited to drink with him the good folk of Seuilly, Cinais Marçay, La Roche Clermault, Coudray-Montpensier, and other places, all of which lie around that illustrious city, to a feast of tripe with immeasurable drink.] Grangousier was, in his time, a notable jester, loving to drink neat, as much as any man that then was in the world, and would willingly eat salt meat. To this intent he was ordinarily well furnished with gammons of bacon, both of Mayence and Bayonne, with store of dried neats' tongues, plenty of chitterlings in their season; together with salt beef and mustard, great provision of sausages from Bigorre, from Longaulnay, from Brene, and from Rouargue. In the vigour of his age he married Gargamelle, daughter to the king of the Parpaillons, a good wench and fair of phiz. It happened that on the day when Gargantua was born, they all went out in a hurle to La Saulsaye, where, on the thick grass, to the sound of merry flutes and pleasant bagpipes, they danced so merrily that it was a heavenly pastime to see them so frolic. After this did they fall upon the chat of victuals. Forthwith began flagons to go, gammons to trot, goblets to fly, glasses to ting. Draw, reach, fill, mix. Give it me without water. So my friend, so; whip me off this glass gallantly; bring me hither claret, yea, a weeping glass. A truce with thirst! Ha, thou false fever, wilt thou not be gone? By my faith, gammer, I cannot as yet enter in the humour of being merry. You are chilled, gammer? Yea, forsooth. Ventre Saint Quenet! let us talk of drink: I never drink but at my hours, like the Pope's mule. And I never drink but in my breviary, like a fair father guardian. Which was first, thirst or drinking? Thirst; for who in the time of innocence would have drunk without being athirst? Drinking; for privatio præsupponit habitum. I am a clerk: Facundi calices quem non fecere disertum? We poor innocents drink but too much without thirst. Not I, who am a sinner, without thirst, if not present, then future thirst preventing, as you understand. I drink eternally. It is to me an eternity of drinking, and a drinking of eternity. Let us sing, let us drink. An anthem, let us strike up. Do you wet yourselves to dry, or do you dry to wet you? Pish! I understand not the theoric, but I help myself somewhat by the practice. Enough! I wet, I humect, I drink, and all for fear of dying. Drink always and you shall never die. If I drink not, I am dry, I am dead. My soul will fly away among the frogs: the soul never dwells in a dry place. O butlers, creators of new forms, make me of no drinker a drinker, everlastingness of sprinkling, through these my parched and sinewy bowels. He drinks in vain that feels not the pleasure of it. This entereth into my veins. some drink, some Our fathers drank lustily, and emptied their cans. Well sung! Come, let us drink! I drink no more than a sponge. I drink like a templar. And I, tanquam sponsus. And I, sicut terra sine aqua. Hey, now, boys! hither drink! There is no trouble in it. pone pro duo, bus non est in usu. as well as I can swallow down, I now very high in the air. Respice personam, If I could get up had been long ere Jacques Cœur grew rich by drinking so : Philosophy thus learned Melinde. A little rain allays a great deal of wind: long tippling breaks the thunder. Here, page, fill! Drink, Guillot, there is still another pot. I appeal from thirst, as an abuse. Page, draw out my appeal in form. I was wont heretofore to drink all, now I leave nothing. Let us not haste, let us gather in all. Drink, or I will. No, no ; drink, I beseech you. Sparrows will not eat unless you bob them on the tail, nor can I drink if I be not fairly spoke to. There is not a rabbit-hole in all my body, where this wine doth not ferret out thirst. Ho! this will bang it soundly. This shall banish it utterly. Let us wind our horns by the sound of flagons and bottles, and cry aloud, that whoever hath lost his thirst come not hither to seek it. The stone called Asbestos is not more unquenchable than the thirst of my paternity. Appetite comes with eating, says Angeston, but thirst goes away with drinking. A remedy against thirst? It is quite contrary to that which is good against the biting of a mad dog. Keep running after a dog, and he will never bite you; drink always before the thirst, and it will never come upon you. There I have you! There I wake you up! Butler everlasting, keep us from sleep. Argus had a hundred eyes for seeing; a butler should have, like Briareus, a hundred hands to pour out wine indefatigably. Hey! let us moisten ourselves-it will be time to dry hereafter. White wine here! Pour out all-pour in the name of Lucifer, pour here,-full. My tongue peels. To thee, countryman, I drink to thee, good fellow, comrade to thee, lusty, lively! Ha, la, la ! bravely gulped down. O lachryma Christi! it is wine of La Devinière: it is Touraine wine. O the fine white wine! on my soul, it is taffetas wine; hen, hen, it is wine of one ear, well wrought, and of |