Chapter 4

This sobriety is reduced to two things, quality and quantity. The first, namely quality, consists in nothing, but not eating food, or drinking wines, prejudicial to the stomach. The second, which is quantity, consists in not eating or drinking more than the stomach can easily digest; which quantity and quality every man should be a perfect judge of by the time he is forty, or fifty, or sixty; and, whoever observes these two rules, may be said to live a regular and sober life. This is of so much virtue and efficacy, that the humours of such a man's body become most homogeneous, harmonious, and perfect; and, when thus improved, are no longer liable to be corrupted or disturbed by any other disorders whatsoever, such as suffering excessive heat or cold, too much fatigue, want of natural rest, and the like, unless in the last degree of excess. Wherefore, since the humours of persons, who observe these two rules relative to eating and drinking, cannot possibly be corrupted, and engender acute diseases, the sources of an untimely death, every man is bound to comply with them: for whoever acts otherwise, living a disorderly instead of a regular life, is constantly exposed to disease and mortality, as well in consequence of such disorders, as of others without number, each of which is capable of producing the same destructive effect.

It is, indeed, true, that even those, who observe the two rules relating to diet, the observance of which constitutes a sober life, may, by committing any one of the other irregularities, find himself the worse for it, for a day or two; but not so as to breed a fever. He may, likewise, be affected by the revolutions of the heavens; but neither the heavens, nor those irregularities, are capable of corrupting the humours of a temperate person; and it is but reasonable and natural it should be so, as the two irregularities of diet are interior, and the others exterior.

But as there are some persons, stricken in years, who are, notwithstanding, very gluttonous, and alledge that neither the quantity or quality of their diet makes any impression upon them, and therefore eat a great deal, and of every thing without distinction, and indulge themselves equally in point of drinking, because they do not know in what part of their bodies their stomachs are situated; such, no doubt, are beyond all measure sensual, and slaves to gluttony. To these I answer, that what they say is impossible in the nature of things, because it is impossible that every man, who comes into the world, should not bring with him a hot, a cold, or a temperate constitution; and that hot foods should agree with hot constitutions, cold with cold ones, and things that are not of a temperate nature, with temperate ones, is likewise impossible in nature. After all, these epicures must allow, that they are now and then out of order; and that they cure themselves by taking evacuating medicines and observing a strict diet. Whence it appears, that their being out of order is owing to their eating too much, and of things disagreeing with their stomachs.

There are other old gluttons, who say, that it is necessary they should eat and drink a great deal, to keep up their natural heat, which is constantly diminishing, as they advance in years; and that it is, therefore, necessary to eat heartily, and of such things as please their palate, be they hot, cold, or temperate; and that, were they to lead a sober life, it would be a short one. To these I answer, that our kind mother, nature, in order that old men may live still to a greater age, has contrived matters so, that they should be able to subsist on little, as I do; for, large quantities of food cannot be digested by old and feeble stomachs. Nor should such persons be afraid of shortening their days by eating too little, since when they happen to be indisposed, they recover by lessening the quantity of their food; for it is a trifle they eat, when confined to a regimen, by observing which they get rid of their disorder. Now, if by reducing themselves to a very small quantity of food, they recover from the jaws of death, how can they doubt but that with an increase of diet, still consistent however with sobriety, they will be able to support nature when in perfect health?

Others say, that it is better for a man to suffer every year three or four returns of his usual disorders, such as the gout, pain in the side, and the like, than be tormented the whole year by not indulging his appetite, and eating every thing his palate likes best; since, by a good regimen alone, he is sure to get the better of such attacks. To this I answer, that our natural heat growing less and less, as we advance in years, no regimen can retain virtue sufficient to conquer the malignity, with which disorders of repletion are ever attended; so that he must die, at last, of these periodical disorders, because they abridge life, as health prolongs it.

Others pretend, that it is much better to live ten years less, than not indulge one's appetite. To this I answer, that longevity ought to be highly valued by men of parts; as to others, it is no great matter if it is not duly prized by them, since they are a disgrace to mankind, so that their death is rather of service to the public. But it is a great misfortune, that men of bright parts should be cut off in that manner, since he, who is already a cardinal, might, perhaps, by living to eighty, attain the papal crown; and in the state, many, by living some years extraordinary, may acquire the ducal dignity; and so in regard to letters, by which a man may rise so as to be considered as a god upon earth; and the like in every other profession.

There are others, who, though their stomachs become weaker and weaker with respect to digestion, as they advance in years, cannot, however, be brought to retrench the quantity of their food, nay they rather increase it. And, because they find themselves unable to digest the great quantity of food, with which they must load their stomachs, by eating twice in the four and twenty hours, they make a resolution to eat but once, that the long interval between one meal and the other may enable them to eat at one sitting as much as they used to do in two: thus they eat till their stomachs, overburthened with much food, pall, and sicken, and change the superfluous food into bad humours, which kill a man before his time. I never knew any person, who led that kind of life, live to be very old. All these old men I have been speaking of would live long, if, as they advanced in years, they lessened the quantity of their food, and eat oftener, but little at a time; for old stomachs cannot digest large quantities of food; old men changing, in that respect, to children, who eat several times in the four and twenty hours.

Others say, that temperance may, indeed, keep a man in health, but that it cannot prolong his life. To this I answer, that experience proves the contrary; and that I myself am a living instance of it. It cannot be said, that sobriety is apt to shorten one's days, as sickness does; and that the latter abbreviates life, is most certain. Moreover, a constant succession of good health is preferable to frequent sickness, as the radical moisture is thereby preserved. Hence it may be fairly concluded, that holy sobriety is the true parent of health and longevity.

O thrice holy sobriety, so useful to man, by the services thou renderest him! thou prolongest his days, by which means he greatly improves his understanding, and by such improvement he avoids the bitter fruits of sensuality, which are an enemy to reason, man's peculiar privilege: those bitter fruits are the passions and perturbations of the mind. Thou, moreover, freest him from the dreadful thoughts of death. How greatly is thy faithful disciple indebted to thee, since by thy assistance he enjoys this beautiful expanse of the visible world, which is really beautiful to such as know how to view it with the philosophic eye, as thou has enabled me to do. Nor could I, at any other time of life, even when I was young, but altogether debauched by an irregular life, perceive its beauties, though I spared no pains or expence to enjoy every season of life. But I found that all the pleasures of that age had their alloy; so that I never knew, till I grew old, that the world was beautiful. O truly happy life, which, over and above all these favours conferred on thine old man, hast so improved and perfected his stomach, that he has now a better relish for his dry bread, than he had formerly and in his youth, for the most exquisite dainties: and all this he has compassed by acting rationally, knowing, that bread is, above all things, man's proper food, when seasoned by a good appetite; and, whilst a man leads a sober life, he may be sure of never wanting that natural sauce; because, by always eating little, the stomach, not being much burthened, need not wait long to have an appetite. It is for this reason, that dry bread relishes so well with me; and I know it from experience, and can with truth affirm, I find such sweetness in it, that I should be afraid of sinning against temperance, were it not for my being convinced of the absolute necessity of eating it, and that we cannot make use of a more natural food. And thou, kind parent Nature, who actest so lovingly by thy aged offspring, in order to prolong his days, hast contrived matters so in his favour, that he can live upon very little; and, in order to add to the favour, and do him still greater service, hast made him sensible, that, as in his youth he used to eat twice a day, when he arrived at old age, he ought to divide that food, of which he was accustomed before to make but two meals, into four; because, thus divided, it will be more easily digested; and, as in his youth he made but two meals in the day, he should, in his old age, make four, provided however he lessens the quantity, as his years increase. And this is what I do, agreeably to my own experience; and, therefore, my spirits, not oppressed by much food, but barely kept up, are always brisk; especially after eating, so that I am accustomed then to sing a song, and afterwards to write.

Nor do I ever find myself the worse for writing immediately after meals; nor is my understanding ever clearer; nor am I apt to be drowsy; the food I take being too small a quantity to send up any fumes to the brain. O, how advantageous it is to an old man to eat but little! Accordingly, I, who know it, eat but just enough to keep body and soul together; and the things I eat are as follow. First, bread, panado, some broth with an egg in it, or such other good kinds of soup or spoon-meat. Of flesh meat, I eat veal, kid, and mutton. I eat poultry of every kind. I eat partridges, and other birds, such as thrushes. I likewise eat fish; for instance, the goldney and the like, amongst sea fish; and the pike, and such like, amongst the fresh-water fish. All these things are fit for an old man; and, therefore, he ought to be content with them, and, considering their number and variety, not hanker after others. Such old men, as are too poor to allow themselves provisions of this kind, may do very well with bread, panado, and eggs; things, which no poor man can want, unless it be common beggars, and, as we call them, vagabonds, about whom we are not bound to make ourselves uneasy, since they have brought themselves to that pass by their indolence; and had better be dead than alive; for they are a disgrace to human nature. But, though a poor man should eat nothing but bread, panado, and eggs, there is no necessity for his eating more than his stomach can digest. And, whoever does not trespass in point of either quantity or quality, cannot die but by mere dissolution. O, what a difference there is between a regular and an irregular life! One gives longevity and health, the other produces diseases and untimely deaths.

O unhappy, wretched life, my sworn enemy, who art good for nothing but to murder those, who follow thee! How many of my dearest relations and friends hast thou robbed me of, in consequence of their not giving credit to me; relations and friends, whom I should now enjoy. But thou hast not been able to destroy me, according to thy wicked intent and purpose. I am still alive in spite of thee, and have attained to such an age, as to see around me eleven grandchildren, all of fine understanding, and amiable disposition; all given to learning and virtue; all beautiful in their persons and lovely in their manners; whom, had I obeyed thy dictates, I should never have beheld. Nor should I enjoy those beautiful and convenient apartments which I have built from the ground, with such a variety of gardens, as required no small time to attain their present degree of perfection. No! thy nature is to destroy those who follow thee, before they can see their houses or gardens so much as finished; whereas, I, to thy no small confusion, have already enjoyed mine for a great number of years. But, since thou art so pestilential a vice, as to poison and destroy the whole world; and I am determined to use my utmost endeavours to extirpate thee, at least in part; I have resolved to counteract thee so, that my eleven grandchildren shall take pattern after me; and thereby expose thee, for what thou really art, a most wicked, desperate, and mortal enemy of the children of men.

I, really, cannot help admiring, that men of fine parts, and such there are, who have attained a superior rank in letters or any other profession, should not betake themselves to a regular life, when they are arrived at the age of fifty or sixty; or as soon as they find themselves attacked by any of the foregoing disorders, of which they might easily recover; whereas, by being permitted to get a head, they become incurable. As to young men, I am no way surprised by them, since, the passions being strong at that age, they are of course the more easily overpowered by their baleful influence. But after fifty, our lives should, in every thing, be governed by reason, which teaches us, that the consequences of gratifying our palate and our appetite are disease and death. Were this pleasure of the palate lasting, it would be some excuse; but it is so momentary, that there is scarce any distinguishing between the beginning and the end of it; whereas the diseases it produces are very durable. But it must be a great contentment to a man of sober life, to be able to reflect that, in the manner he lives, he is sure, that what he eats, will keep him in good health, and be productive of no disease or infirmity.

Now I was willing to make this short addition to my treatise, founded on new reasons; few persons caring to peruse long-winded discourses; whereas short tracts have a chance of being read by many; and I wish that many may see this addition, to the end that its utility may be more extensive.

AN EARNEST EXHORTATION; WHEREIN The author uses the strongest arguments to persuade all men to embrace a regular and sober life, in order to attain old age, in which they may enjoy all the favours and blessings, that God, in his goodness, vouchsafes to bestow upon mortals.

Not to be wanting to my duty, that duty incumbent upon every man; and not to lose at the same time the satisfaction I feel in being useful to others, I have resolved to take up my pen, and inform those, who, for want of conversing with me, are strangers to what those know and see, with whom I have the pleasure of being acquainted. But, as certain things may appear, to some persons, scarce credible, nay impossible, though actually fact, I shall not fail to relate them for the benefit of the public. Wherefore, I say, being (God be praised) arrived at my ninety-fifth year, and still finding myself sound and hearty, content and chearful, I never cease thanking the Divine Majesty for so great a blessing; considering the usual fate of other old men. These scarce attain the age of seventy, without losing their health and spirits; growing melancholy and peevish; and continually haunted by the thoughts of death; apprehending their last hour from one day to another, so that it is impossible to drive such thoughts out of their mind; whereas such things give me not the least uneasiness; for, indeed, I cannot, at all, make them the object of my attention, as I shall hereafter more plainly relate. I shall, besides, demonstrate the certainty I have of living to an hundred. But, to render this dissertation more methodical, I shall begin by considering man at his birth; and from thence accompany him through every stage of life to his grave.

I, therefore, say, that some come into the world with the stamina of life so weak, that they live but a few days, or months, or years; and it cannot be clearly known, to what such shortness of life is owing; whether to some defect in the father or the mother, in begetting them; or to the revolutions of the heavens; or to the defect of nature, subject, as she is, to the celestial influence. For, I could never bring myself to believe, that nature, common parent of all, should be partial to any of her children. Therefore, as we cannot assign causes, we must be content with reasoning from the effects, such as they daily appear to our view.

Others are born sound, indeed, and full of spirits; but, notwithstanding, with a poor weakly constitution; and of these some live to the age of ten; others to twenty; others to thirty or forty; yet they do not live to extreme old age. Others, again, bring into the world a perfect constitution, and live to old age; but it is generally, as I have already said, an old age full of sickness and sorrow; for which they are to thank themselves; because they most unreasonably presume on the goodness of their constitution; and cannot by any means be brought to depart, when brought to depart, when grown old, from the mode of life they pursued in their younger days; as if they still retained all their primitive vigour. Nay, they intend to live as irregularly when past the meridian of life, as they did all the time of their youth; thinking they shall never grow old, nor their constitution ever be impaired. Neither do they consider, that their stomach has lost its natural heat; and that they should, on that account, pay a greater regard to the quality of what they eat, and what wines they drink; and likewise to the quantity of each, which they ought to lessen; whereas, on the contrary, they are for increasing it; saying, that, as we lose our health and vigour by growing old, we should endeavour to repair the loss by increasing the quantity of our food, since it is by sustenance that man is preserved.

In this, nevertheless, they are greatly mistaken, since, as the natural heat lessens as a man grows in years, he should diminish the quantity of his meat and drink; nature, especially at that period, being content with little. Nay, though they have all the reason to believe this to be the case, they are so obstinate as to think otherwise, and still follow their usual disorderly life. But were they to relinquish it in due time, and betake themselves to a regular and sober course, they would not grow infirm in their old age, but would continue, as I am, strong and hearty, considering how good and perfect a constitution it has pleased the Almighty to bestow upon them; and would live to the age of one hundred and twenty. This has been the case of others, who, as we read in many authors, have lived a sober life, and, of course, were born with this perfect constitution; and had it been my lot to enjoy such a constitution, I should make no doubt of attaining the same age. But, as I was born with feeble stamina, I am afraid I shall not outlive an hundred. Were others, too, who are also born with an infirm constitution, to betake themselves to a regular life, as I have done, they would attain the age of one hundred and upwards, as will be my case.

And this certainty of being able to live a great age is, in my opinion, a great advantage, and highly to be valued; none being sure to live even a single hour, except such as adhere to the rules of temperance. This security of life is built on good and true natural reasons, which can never fail; it being impossible in the nature of things, that he, who leads a sober and regular life, should breed any sickness, or die of an unnatural death, before the time, at which it is absolutely impossible he should live. But sooner he cannot die, as a sober life has the virtue to remove all the usual causes of sickness, and sickness cannot happen without a cause; which cause being removed, sickness is, likewise, removed; and sickness being removed, an untimely and violent death must be prevented.

And there is no doubt, that temperance has the virtue and efficacy to remove such causes; for since health and sickness, life and death, depend on the good or bad quality of the humours, temperance corrects their vicious tendencies, and renders them perfect, being possessed of the natural power of making them unite and hold together, so as to render them inseperable, and incapable of alteration and fermenting; circumstances, which engender cruel fevers, and end in death. It is true, indeed, and it would be a folly to deny it, that, let our humours be originally ever so good, time, which consumes every thing, cannot fail to consume and exhaust them; and that man, as soon as that happens, must die of a natural death; but yet without sickness, as will be my case, who shall die at my appointed time, when these humours shall be consumed, which they are not at present. Nay, they are still perfect; nor is it possible they should be otherwise in my present condition, when I find myself hearty and content, eating with a good appetite, and sleeping soundly. Moreover, all my faculties are as good as ever, and in the highest perfection; my understanding clearer and brighter than ever; my judgment sound; my memory tenacious; my spirits good; and my voice, the first thing which is apt to fail in others, grown so strong and sonorous, that I cannot help chanting out loud my prayers morning and night, instead of whispering and muttering them to myself, as was formerly my custom.

And these are all so many true and sure signs and tokens, that my humours are good, and cannot waste but with time, as all those, who converse with me, conclude. O, how glorious this life of mine is like to be, replete with all the felicities which man can enjoy on this side of the grave; and even exempt from that sensual brutality which age has enabled my better reason to banish; because where reason resides, there is no room for sensuality, nor for its bitter fruits, the passions, and perturbations of the mind, with a train of disagreeable apprehensions. Nor yet can the thoughts of death find room in my mind, as I have no sensuality to nourish such thoughts. Neither can the death of grandchildren and other relations and friends make any impression on me, but for a moment or two; and then it is over. Sill less am I liable to be cast down by losses in point of fortune (as many have seen to their no small surprise.) And this is a happiness not to be expected by any but such as attain old age by sobriety, and not in consequence of a strong constitution; and such may moreover expect to spend their days happily, as I do mine, in a perpetual round of amusement and pleasure. And how is it possible a man should not enjoy himself, who meets with no crosses or disappointments in his old age, such as youth is constantly plagued with, and from which, I shall presently shew, I have the happiness of being exempt?