Those limits which bound man's reason while in the body faded away, and I was no longer conscious to the want of knowledge, or want of power to satisfy the curiosity. The only things that baffled all my enquiries was God, and the spirit of created, intelligent beings. These are mysteries beyond unsolving. They are inscrutable to the mind of man, for that mind is constituted for an earthly existence.

PROPRIETY OF TIMES AND SEASONS: THE EFFECT OF THE BODY ON THE INTELLECT: LITERARY PURSUITS.

Symbol XII.- -Ex curru ne comedito.

Eat not in the chariot.

1. It is observed by Dacier, that "the Greek word here used, Apgos, signifies not only a chariot, but a seat or chair; and that, therefore, when Pythagoras forbids us to eat in our seats, he forbids us to eat sitting, that is to say, without working." But, with all deference to this writer, I am disposed to think the meaning of the symbol is an injunction against gratifying our desires, or appetites, on occasions when we are engaged with more important duties ; for in morals, propriety, decorum, and seemliness, are not to be overlooked. Cleanliness is truly said to be next to godliness; so fitness and propriety of conduct in all things, have the same relation to morals. There is a suitable time for every thing, as Solomon has observed. There is a time for eating, and a time for abstaining; and whilst riding in the chariot (in reference to war), or sitting on the judgment-seat (in reference to civil affairs), it is out of place to indulge in any act which shall distract our attention in the one case, or derogate from our dignity in the other.

2. If we did not know from experience, that those symbols were symbols, and not precepts or injunctions, to be received in the literal and obvious sense of the words, we might imagine, that herein the great moralist alluded to the practice of his school, in eating in private, and avoiding any ostentation. It is true, they ate among themselves, but there was no conviviality at their repasts; for loquacity was avoided; social feelings forbidden; as tending to elevate a brutal, but necessary act, into one of importance. In fact, among the Pythagoreans, this act of carnal enjoyment, now so much indulged in by the priest and layman, with great show, expense, and prodigality, was so contemned, as a mere animal propensity, which corrupts the soul, and detracts from the dignity of man, considered as a moral and rational being, and religious withal, that, if absolute necessity did not overrule the actions of men, they would have abandoned the practice altogether. The next best step, they conceived, was to despise it, and to fulfil the nauseous office secretly, as if they were ashamed at what they did. O that we had a part of this magnanimity! this self-denial, this more than human philosophy! If the reasons are ridiculous, the virtues brought out by the practice are worthy of all times: self-denial is a virtue, that is the parent of many others—a virtue required by the Christian, surely, as much as by the pagan.

3. We might with propriety here observe, that in man the carnal and spiritual are at perpetual enmity. The gratification of our appetites is done to the detriment of our mental faculties. Intemperance in eating, and deep clear thinking, are as the antipodes asunder. "A great eater and great soul are not found together," says the sage Simon Trigentius, in his great book on Gastronomy.

What stupifies the body, deadens the mind. The soaring imagination, like the eagle shot in its flight, falls to the ground; the acute crystal intellect which reasons and ponders with a majesty divine, is obscured; those other faculties of a lighter kind, which partake of the grace of the Muses, in whose exercise we discover the scintillations of wit, the playful vein of humour, the pathos of deep-feeling, or the eloquence of passion, become incorporated and amalgamated with earth and matter. True, that eating is an act necessary: we deny it not; we admit that man must eat to live; but true also is it, that it is purely the act of the animal, of the brute; and as we indulge in it, so in proportion must we descend to the gross earth, of which all animals in common are partakers. When we know that we are spiritual in degree, and that the degree to which we can ascend or descend, depends upon temperance or intemperance in animal enjoyment, the man who is guilty of the latter, whether publicly or privately, proves that he loves the animal before the spiritual nature, prefers the brute to the god.

Now, if we consider how little nature requires for the sustenance of the body, and how much man, in his sensuality, in his worship of the belly, expends in its gratification, we may conjecture to what a lofty degree the soul may be exalted in purity and brightness. All beyond what nature requires, becomes a clog upon the divinity of And in this we have to consider the quality as well as the quantity we eat. For man is like other animals; he is pure or foul; clean or unclean, according to the diet he takes. If the body-that root and abiding place of sense and animalism, and corruption-be rendered more or less pure by the substance of which we eat, can we ex

man.

pect the soul, that fountain of things above sense, image of God, therefore divine in origin, and glorious in essential properties, to pass unscathed through the same ordeal ?

4. Those who make wisdom their study, and especially such as give their days and nights to literature, find it necessary to attend to and regulate the quantity of food they take. In refined pursuits of this kind, the effect of immoderation is instantly felt. They must not be moderate, but comparatively abstemious; for what would be considered moderate to a man, not so employed, shall be felt to obscure his intellect, who has to depend on the faculties of the mind. Literary labours are retarded, instead of being facilitated by excitement of any kind; and he who undertakes them must even be more temperate in what he drinks than in what he eats. There are said to be exceptions to this rule in the composition of poetry, the drama, and other works of imagination, in which the fancy, when it flags, requires to be stimulated by artificial means. Though this may be practised in some degree, we have serious doubts whether it be necessary or wholesome; if the genius flow not naturally, we are sure the product of excitement must be a bastard thing, and no legitimate offspring. The imagination, excited artificially, is always more or less distorted; and the work it is engaged upon shall most certainly partake of that character.

It is well known by those who undertake works of great patience and great labour, that the efforts of the mind and body are longer sustained when there is no excitement. Stimulants give a temporary impulse, but the reaction is soon felt, and fatigue and lassitude ensue; besides, the work is not likely to be so well done, when