{"collection":"philosophy-ethics","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_30660/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_30660","id":"gutenberg_30660","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/30660","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Health & Medicine","Category: How To ...","Category: Old Age & the Elderly","Category: Philosophy & Ethics","Cornaro, Luigi, 1475-1566","Health -- Early works to 1800","Longevity -- Early works to 1800"],"text":"Produced by Andrew Gudgel\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nDISCOURSES\nON A\nSOBER AND TEMPERATE LIFE.\n\nBy\n\nLEWIS CORNARO,\nA NOBLE VENETIAN.\n\nWherein is demonstrated, by his own Example,\n\nTHE METHOD OF PRESERVING\nHEALTH TO EXTREME OLD AGE.\n\nTranslated from the Italian Original.\n\nA NEW EDITION, CORRECTED.\n\nLONDON:\nPrinted for Benjamin White, at Horace's\nHead, in Fleet-Street.\nM.DCC.LXXIX.\n\n\nPREFACE\n\nThe author of the following discourses, Lewis Cornaro, was descended\nfrom one of the most illustrious families in Venice, but by the ill\nconduct of some of his relations, had the misfortune to be deprived\nof the dignity of a nobleman, and excluded from all honours and\npublic employments in the state.  Chagrined at this unmerited\ndisgrace, he retired to Padua, and married a lady of the family\nof Spiltemberg, whose name was Veronica.  Being in possession of\na good estate, he was very desirous of having children; and after\na long expectation of this happiness, his wife was delivered of a\ndaughter, to whom he gave the name of Clara.  This was his only\nchild, who afterwards was married to John, the son of Fantini\nCornaro, of a rich family in Cyprus, while that island belonged to\nthe republic of Venice.  Though he was far advanced in life when\nhis daughter Clara came into the world, yet he lived to see her\nvery old, and the mother of eight sons and three daughters.  He was\na man of sound understanding, determined courage and resolution.\nIn his younger days, he had contracted infirmities by intemperance,\nand by indulging his too great propensity to anger; but when he\nperceived the ill consequence of his irregularities, he had\ncommand enough of himself to subdue his passion and inordinate\nappetites.  By means of great sobriety, and a strict regimen in his\ndiet, he recovered his health and vigour, which he preserved to an\nextreme old age.  At a very advanced stage of life he wrote the\nfollowing discourses, wherein he acquaints us with the irregularity\nof his youth, his reformation of manners, and the hopes he\nentertained of living a long time.  Nor was he mistaken in his\nexpectation, for he resigned his last breath without any agony,\nsitting in an elbow chair, being above an hundred years old.  This\nhappened at Padua, the 26th of April, 1566.  His lady, almost as\nold as himself, survived him but a short time, and died an early\ndeath.  They were both interred in St. Anthony's church, without\npomp, pursuant to their testamentary directions.\n\nThese discourses, though written in Cornaro's old age, were penned\nat different times, and published separately: The first, which he\nwrote at the age of eighty-three, is intitled, A Treatise on a\nSober Life, in which he declares war against every kind of\nintemperance; and his vigorous old age speaks in favour of his\nprecepts.  The second treatise he composed at the age of eighty-six:\nit contains farther encomiums on sobriety, and points out the means\nof mending a bad constitution.  He says, that he came into the\nworld with a choleric disposition, but that his temperate way of\nlife had enabled him to subdue it.  The third, which he wrote at\nthe age of ninety-one, is intitled, An Earnest Exhortation to a\nSober Life; here he uses the strongest arguments to persuade\nmankind to embrace a temperate life, as the means of attaining a\nhealthy and vigorous old age.  The fourth and last, is a letter to\nBarbaro, Patriarch of Aquileia, written at the age of ninety-five;\nit contains a lively description of the healthy, vigour, and\nperfect use of all his faculties, which he had the happiness of\nenjoying at that advanced period of life.\n\nThis useful work was translated some years ago into English, under\nthe title of _Sure and certain methods of attaining a long and\nhealthy life_. The translator seems rather to have made use of a\nFrench version than of the Italian original; he has likewise\nomitted several passages of the Italian, and the whole is rather a\nparaphrase than a translation.  This has induced us to give the\npublic an exact and faithful version of that excellent performance,\nfrom the Venice edition in 8vo, in the year 1620 [1]: and as a proof\nof the merit and authenticity of the work, we beg leave to quote\nMr. Addison's recommendation of it, SPECTATOR, Vol. iii, No 195.\n\n\"The most remarkable instance of the efficacy of temperance,\ntowards the procuring long life, is what we meet with in a little\nbook published by _Lewis Cornaro,_ the _Venetian;_ which I rather\nmention, because it is of undoubted credit, as the late _Venetian_\nambassador, who was of the same family, attested more than once in\nconversation, when he resided in _England_.  _Cornaro,_ who was\nthe author of the little treatise I am mentioning, was of an\ninfirm constitution, till about forty, when, by obstinately\npersisting in an exact course of temperance, he recovered a perfect\nstate of health; insomuch that at fourscore he published his book,\nwhich has been translated into _English_ under the title of, _Sure\nand certain methods of attaining a long and healthy life_.  He\nlived to give a third or fourth edition of it, and after having\npassed his hundredth year, died without pain or agony, and like\none who falls asleep.  The treatise I mention has been taken\nnotice of by several eminent authors, and is written with such\nspirit of chearfulness, religion, and good sense, as are the\nnatural concomitants of temperance and sobriety.  The mixture of\nthe old man in it, is rather a recommendation than a discredit\nto it.\"\n\n[1] The first edition was published by the author at Padua, in\n4to, A.D. 1558.\n\n\n\nA TREATISE ON A SOBER LIFE\n\nIt is a thing past all doubt, that custom, by time, becomes a\nsecond nature, forcing men to use that, whether good or bad, to\nwhich they have been habituated: nay, we see habit, in many things,\nget the better of reason.  This is so undeniably true, that\nvirtuous men, by conversing with the wicked, very often fall into\nthe same vicious course of life.  The contrary, likewise, we see\nsometimes happen; viz. that, as good morals easily change to bad,\nso bad morals change again to good.  For instance: let a wicked\nman, who was once virtuous, keep company with a virtuous man, and\nhe will again become virtuous; and this alteration can be\nattributed to nothing but the force of habit, which is, indeed,\nvery great.  Seeing many examples of this; and besides,\nconsidering that, in consequence of this great force of habit,\nthree bad customs have got footing in Italy within a few years,\neven within my own memory; the first flattery and ceremoniousness:\nthe second Lutheranism [2], which some have most preposterously\nembraced; the third intemperance; and that these three vices,\nlike so many cruel monsters, leagued, as indeed they are, against\nmankind, have gradually prevailed so far, as to rob civil life of\nits sincerity, the soul of its piety, and the body of its health;\nI have resolved to treat of the last of these vices, and prove\nthat it is an abuse, in order to extirpate it, if possible.  As\nto the second, Lutheranism, and the first, flattery, I am certain,\nthat some great genius or another will soon undertake the task of\nexposing their deformity, and effectually suppressing them.\nTherefore, I firmly hope, that, before I die, I shall see these\nthree abuses conquered and driven out of Italy; and this country\nof course restored to its former laudable and virtuous customs.\n\n\n[2] The author writes with the prejudice of a zealous Roman\nCatholic against the doctrine of the Reformation, which he here\ndistinguishes by the name of Lutheranism.  This was owing to the\nartifices of the Romish clergy in those days, by whom the\nreformed religion was misinterpreted, as introductive of\nlicentiousness and debauchery.\n\n\nTo come then to that abuse, of which I am proposed to speak,\nnamely, intemperance; I say, that it is a great pity it should have\nprevailed so much, as entirely to banish sobriety.  Though all are\nagreed, that intemperance is the offspring of gluttony, and sober\nliving of abstemiousness; the former, nevertheless, is considered\na virtue and a mark of distinction, and the latter, as dishonourable\nand the badge of avarice.  Such mistaken notions are entirely\nowing to the power of custom, established by our senses and\nirregular appetites; these have blinded and besotted men to such\na degree, that, leaving the paths of virtue, they have followed\nthose of vice, which lead them before their time to an old age,\nburthened with strange and mortal infirmities, so as to render\nthem quite decrepid before forty, contrary to the effects of\nsobriety, which, before it was banished by this destructive\nintemperance, used to keep men sound and hearty to the age of\neighty and upwards.  O wretched and unhappy Italy! do you not\nsee, that intemperance murders every year more of your subjects,\nthan you could lose by the most cruel plague, or by fire and\nsword in many battles?  Those truly shameful feasts, no so much\nin fashion, and so intolerably profuse, that no tables are large\nenough to hold the dishes, which renders it necessary to heap them\none upon another; those feasts, I say, are so many battles; and\nhow is it possible to support nature by such a variety of contrary\nand unwholesome foods?  Put a stop to this abuse, for God's sake,\nfor there is not, I am certain of it, a vice more abominable than\nthis in the eyes of the Divine Majesty.  Drive away this new kind\nof death, and you have banished the plague, which, though it\nformerly used to make such havock, now does little or no mischief,\nowing to the laudable practice of attending more to the goodness\nof the provisions brought to our markets.  There are means still\nleft to banish intemperance, and such means too, that every man\nmay have recourse to them without any assistance.  Nothing more is\nrequisite for this purpose, than to live up to the simplicity\ndictated by nature, which teaches us to be content with little,\nto pursue the medium of holy abstemiousness and divine reason,\nand to accustom ourselves to eat no more than is absolutely\nnecessary to support life; considering, that what exceeds this,\nis disease and death, and merely gives the palate satisfaction,\nwhich, though but momentary, brings on the body a long and lasting\ntrain of disagreeable sensations and diseases, and at length\ndestroys it along with the soul.  How many friends of mine, men\nof the finest understanding and most amiable disposition, have I\nseen carried off by this plague in the flower of their youth? who,\nwhere they now living, would be an ornament to the public, whose\ncompany I should enjoy with as much pleasure, as I now feel\nconcern at their loss.\n\nIn order, therefore, to put a stop to so great an evil, I have\nresolved by this short discourse to demonstrate, that\nintemperance is an abuse which may be easily removed, and that\nthe good old sober living may be substituted in its stead; and\nthis I undertake more readily, as many young men of the best\nunderstanding, knowing that it is a vice, have requested it of\nme, moved thereto by seeing their fathers drop off in the flower\nof their youth, and me so sound and hearty at the age of\neighty-one.  They expressed a desire to reach the same term,\nnature not forbidding us to wish for longevity; and old-age being,\nin fact, that time of life in which prudence can be best\nexercised, and the fruits of all the other virtues enjoyed with\nless opposition, the passions being then so subdued, that man gives\nhimself up entirely to reason.  They beseeched me to let them\nknow the method pursued by me to attain it; and then finding them\nintent on so laudable a pursuit, I have resolved to treat of that\nmethod, in order to be of service not only to them, but to all\nthose who may be willing to peruse this discourse.  I shall,\ntherefore, give my reasons for renouncing intemperance, and\nbetaking myself to a sober course of life; declare freely the\nmethod pursued by me for that purpose; and then set forth the\neffects of so good an habit upon me; whence it may be clearly\ngathered, how easy it is to remove the abuse of intemperance.\nI shall conclude, by shewing how many conveniencies and\nblessings are the consequences of a sober life.\n\nI say then, that the heavy train of infirmities, which had not\nonly invaded, but even made great inroads in my constitution,\nwere my motives for renouncing intemperance, to which I had been\ngreatly addicted; so that, in consequence of it, and the badness\nof my constitution, my stomach being exceedingly cold and moist,\nI was fallen into different kinds of disorders, such as pains in\nmy stomach, and often stitches, and spices of the gout; attended\nby, what was still worse, an almost continual slow fever, a\nstomach generally out of order, and a perpetual thirst.  From\nthese natural and acquired disorders the best delivery I had to\nhope for, was death, to put an end to the pains and miseries of\nlife; a period very remote in the regular course of nature,\nthough I had hastened it by my irregular manner of living.\nFinding myself, therefore, in such unhappy circumstances between\nmy thirty-fifth and fortieth year, every thing that could be\nthought of having been tried to no purpose to relieve me, the\nphysicians gave me to understand, that there was but one method\nleft to get the better of my complaints, provided I would resolve\nto use it, and patiently persevere in it.  This was a sober and\nregular life, which the assured me would be still of the greatest\nservice to me, and would be as powerful in its effects, as the\nintemperance and irregular one had been, in reducing me to the\npresent low condition: and that I might be fully satisfied of its\nsalutary effects, for though by my irregularities I was become\ninfirm, I was not reduced so low, but that a temperate life, the\nopposite in every respect to an intemperate one, might still\nentirely recover me.  And besides, it in fact appears, such a\nregular life, whilst observed, preserves men of a bad constitution,\nand far gone in years, just as a contrary course has the power\nto destroy those of the best constitution, and in their prime;\nfor this plain reason, that different modes of life are\nattended by different effects; art following, even herein, the\nsteps of nature, with equal power to correct natural vices and\nimperfections.  This is obvious in husbandry and the like.  They\nadded, that if I did not immediately have recourse to such a\nregimen, I could receive no benefit from it in a few months, and\nthat in a few more I must resign myself to death.\n\nThese solid and convincing arguments made such an impression on\nme, that, mortified as I was besides, by the thoughts of dying\nin the prime of life, and at the same time perpetually tormented\nby various diseases, I immediately concluded, that the foregoing\ncontrary effects could not be produced but by contrary modes of\nliving; and, therefore, full of hopes, resolved, in order to\navoid at once both death and disease, to betake myself to a regular\ncourse of life.  Having, upon this, enquired of them what rules I\nshould follow, they told me, that I must not use any food, solid\nor liquid, but such as, being generally prescribed to sick persons,\nis, for that reason, called diet, and both very sparingly.  These\ndirections, to say the truth, they had before given me; but it\nwas at a time of life when, impatient of such restraint, and\nfinding myself satiated, as it were, with such food, I could not\nput up with it, and therefore eat freely of every thing I liked\nbest; and likewise, feeling myself in a manner parched up by the\nheat of my disease, made no scruple of drinking, and in large\nquantities, the wines that best pleased my palate.  This indeed,\nlike all other patients, I kept a secret from my physicians.  But,\nwhen I had once resolved to live sparingly, and according to the\ndictates of reason, seeing that is was no difficult matter, nay,\nthat it was my duty as a man so to do, I entered with so much\nresolution upon this new course of life, that nothing has been\nsince able to divert me from it.  The consequence was, that in a\nfew days I began to perceive, that such a course agreed with me\nvery well; and by pursuing it, in less than a year, I found\nmyself (some persons, perhaps, will not believe it) entirely\nfreed from all my complaints.\n\nHaving thus recovered my health, I began seriously to consider\nthe power of temperance, and say to myself, that if this virtue\nhad efficacy enough to subdue such grievous disorders as mine, it\nmust have still greater to preserve me in health, to help my bad\nconstitution, and comfort my very weak stomach.  I therefore\napplied myself diligently to discover what kinds of food suited\nme best.  But, first, I resolved to try, whether those, which\npleased my palate, agreed or disagreed with my stomach, in order\nto judge for myself of the truth of that proverb, which I once held\ntrue, and is universally held as such in the highest degree,\ninsomuch that epicures, who give a loose to their appetites, lay\nit down as a fundamental maxim.  This proverb is, that whatever\npleases the palate, must agree with the stomach, and nourish the\nbody; or whatever is palatable must be equally wholesome and\nnourishing.  The issue was, that I found it to be false: for,\nthough rough and very cold wines, as likewise melons and other\nfruits, sallad, fish and pork, tarts, garden-stuff, pastry, and\nthe like, were very pleasing to my palate, the disagreed with me\nnotwithstanding.  Having convinced myself, that the proverb in\nquestion was false, I look'd upon it as such; and, taught by\nexperience, I gave over the use of such meats and wines, and\nlikewise of ice; chose wine suited to my stomach, drinking of it\nbut the quantity I knew I could digest.  I did the same by my\nmeat, as well in regard to quantity as to quality, accustoming\nmyself never to cloy my stomach with eating or drinking; but\nconstantly rise from table with a disposition to eat and drink\nstill more.  In this I conformed to the proverb, which says, that\na man, to consult his health, must check his appetite.  Having in\nthis manner, and for these reasons, conquered intemperance and\nirregularity, I betook myself intirely to a temperate and regular\nlife: which effected in me the alteration already mentioned, that\nis, in less than a year it rid me of all those disorders, which\nhad taken so deep a root in me; nay, as I have already observed,\nhad made such a progress, as to be in a manner incurable.  It had\nlikewise this other good effect, that I no longer experienced\nthose annual fits of sickness, with which I used to be afflicted,\nwhile I followed a different, that is a sensual, course of life;\nfor then I used to be attacked every year with a strange kind of\nfever, which sometimes brought me to death's door.  From this\ndisease, then, I also freed myself, and became exceeding healthy,\nas I have continued from that time forward to this very day; and\nfor no other reason than that I never trespassed against\nregularity, which by its infinite efficacy has been the cause,\nthat the meat I constantly eat, and the wine I constantly drink,\nbeing such as agreed with my constitution, and taken in proper\nquantities, imparted all their virtue to my body, and then left\nit without difficulty, and without engendering in it any bad\nhumours.\n\nIn consequence therfore of my taking such methods, I have\nalways enjoyed, and (God be praised) actually enjoy, the\nbest of healths.  It is true, indeed, that, besides the two\nforgoing most important rules relative to eating and drinking,\nwhich I have ever been very scrupulous to observe; that is,\nnot to take of any thing, but as much as my stomach can easily\ndigest, and to use those things only, which agree with me; I\nhave carefully avoided heat, cold, and extraordinary fatigue,\ninterruption of my usual hours of rest, excessive venery, making\nany stay in bad air, and exposing myself to the wind and sun; for\nthese, too, are great disorders.  But then, fortunately, there is\nno great difficulty in avoiding them, the love of life and health\nhaving more sway over men of understanding, than any satisfaction\nthey could find in doing what must be extremely hurtful to their\nconstitution.  I have likewise done all that lay in my power to\navoid those evils, which we do not find so easy to remove; these\nare melancholy, hatred, and other violent passions, which appear\nto have the greatest influence over our bodies.  However, I have\nnot been able to guard so well against either one or the other\nkind of these disorders, as not to suffer myself now and then to\nbe hurried away by many, not to say, all of them; but I have\nreaped the benefit of knowing by experience that these passions\nhave, in the main, no great influence over bodies governed by the\ntwo foregoing rules of eating and drinking, and therefore can do\nthem but very little harm; so that it may with great truth be\naffirmed, that whoever observes these two capital rules, is\nliable to very little inconveniency from any other excesses.\nThis, Galen, who was an eminent physician, observed before me.\nHe affirms, that so long as he followed these rules relative to\neating and drinking, he suffered but little from other disorders,\nso little, that they never gave him above a day's uneasiness.\nThat what he says is true, I am a living witness, and so are many\nothers, who know me, and have seen, how often I have been exposed\nto heats and colds, and such other disagreeable changes of weather;\nand have, likewise, seen me (owing to various misfortunes, which\nhave more than once befallen me) greatly disturbed my mind.  For\nthey can not only say of me, that such disturbance of mind has done\nme very little harm, but they can aver of many others, who did not\nlead a sober and regular life, that it proved very prejudicial to\nthem, amongst whom was a brother of my own, and others of my family,\nwho trusting to the goodness of their constitution, did not follow\nmy way of living.  The consequence hereof was a great misfortune to\nthem, the perturbations of the mind having thereby acquired an\nextraordinary influence over their bodies.  Such, in a word, was\ntheir grief and dejection at seeing me involved in expensive\nlaw-suits, commenced against my by great and powerful men, that,\nfearing I should be cast, they were seized with that melancholy\nhumour, with which intemperate bodies always abound; and these\nhumours had such an influence over them, and increased to such\na degree, as to carry them off before their time; whereas I\nsuffered nothing on the occasion, as I had in me no superfluous\nhumours of that kind.  Nay, in order to keep up my spirits, I\nbrought myself to think, that God had raised up these suits\nagainst me, in order to make me more sensible of my strength of\nbody and mind; and that I should get the better of them with\nhonour and advantage, as it, in fact, came to pass: for, at\nlast, I obtained a decree exceeding favourable to my fortune and\nmy character, which, though it gave me the highest pleasure, had\nnot the power to do me any harm in other respects.  Thus it is\nplain, that neither melancholy nor any other affection of the\nmind can hurt bodies governed with temperance and regularity.\n\nBut I must go a step further, and say, that even misfortunes\nthemselves can do but very little mischief, or cause but very\nlittle pain, to such bodies; and that this is true, I have myself\nexperienced at the age of seventy.  I happened, as is often the\ncase, to be in a coach, which going at a pretty smart rate, was\noverset, and in that condition drawn a considerable way by the\nhorses, before means could be found to stop them; whence I\nreceived so many shocks and bruises, that I was taken out with\nmy head and all the rest of my body terribly battered, and a\ndislocated leg and arm.  When I was brought home, the family\nimmediately sent for the physicians, who, on their arrival, seeing\nme in so bad a plight, concluded, that within three days I should\ndie; nevertheless, they would try what good two things would do\nme; one was to bleed me, the other to purge me; and thereby\nprevent my humours altering, as they every moment expected, to\nsuch a degree, as to ferment greatly, and bring on a high fever.\nBut I, on the contrary, who knew, that the sober life I had led\nfor many years past, had so well united, harmonized, and disposed\nmy humours, as not to leave it in their power to ferment to such\na degree, refused to be either bled, or purged.  I just caused my\nleg and arm to be set, an suffered myself to be rubbed with some\noils, which they said were proper on the occasion.  Thus, without\nusing any other kind of remedy, I recovered, as I thought I should,\nwithout feeling the least alteration in myself, or any other bad\neffects from the accident; a thing, which appeared miraculous even\nin the eyes of the physicians.  Hence we are to infer, that whoever\nleads a sober and regular life, and commits no excess in his diet,\ncan suffer but very little from disorders of any other kind, or\nexternal accidents.  On the contrary, I conclude, especially from\nthe late trial I have had, that excesses in eating and drinking are\nfatal.  Of this I convinced myself four years ago, when by the\nadvice of my physicians, the instigation of my friends, and the\nimportunity of my own family, I consented to such an excess, which,\nas it will appear hereafter, was attended with far worse\nconsequences, than could naturally be expected.  This excess\nconsisted in increasing the quantity of food I generally made use\nof; which increase alone brought me to a most cruel fit of sickness.\nAnd as it is a case so much in point to the subject in hand, and the\nknowledge of it may be useful to some of my readers, I shall take\nthe trouble to relate it.\n\nI say, then, that my dearest friends and relations, actuated by the\nwarm and laudable affection and regard they have for me, seeing how\nlittle I eat, represented to me, in conjunction with my physicians,\nthat the sustenance I took could not be sufficient to support one\nso far advanced in years, when it was become necessary not only to\npreserve nature, but to increase its vigour.  That, as this could\nnot be done without food, it was absolutely incumbent upon me to\neat a little more plentifully.  I, on the other hand, produced my\nreasons for not complying with their desires.  These were, that\nnature is content with little, and that with this little I had\npreserved myself so many years; and that, to me, the habit of it\nwas become a second nature; and that it was more agreeable to\nreason, that, as I advanced in years and lost my strength, I\nshould rather lessen than increase the quantity of my food:\nFarther, that it was but natural to think, that the powers of\nthe stomach grew weaker from day to day; on which account I\ncould see no reason to make such an addition.  To corroborate\nmy arguments, I alleged that those two natural and very true\nproverbs; one, that he, who has a mind to eat a great deal, must\neat but little; which is said for no other reason than this, that\neating little makes a man live very long, and living very long he\nmust eat a great deal.  The other proverb was, that what we leave\nafter making a hearty meal, does us more good than what we have\neat.  But neither these proverbs, nor any other arguments I could\nthink of, were able to prevent their teazing me more than ever.\nWherefore, not to appear obstinate, or affect to know more than\nthe physicians themselves; but, above all, to please my family,\nwho very earnestly desired it, from a persuasion that such an\naddition to my usual allowance would preserve my strength, I\nconsented to increase the quantity of food, but with two ounces\nonly.  So that, as before, what with bread, meat, the yolk of\nan egg, and soup, I eat as much, as weighed in all twelve ounces,\nneither more nor less, I now increased it to fourteen; and as\nbefore I drank but fourteen ounces of wine, I now increased it to\nsixteen.  This increase and irregularity, had, in eight days time,\nsuch an effect upon me, that, from being chearful and brisk, I\nbegan to be peevish and melancholy, so that nothing could please\nme; and was constantly so strangely disposed, that I neither knew\nwhat to say to others, nor what to do with myself.  On the twelfth\nday, I was attacked with a most violent pain in my side, which held\nme twenty-two hours, and was succeeded by a terrible fever, which\ncontinued thirty-five days and as many nights, without giving me\na moment's respite; though, to say the truth, it began to abate\ngradually on the fifteenth.  But notwithstanding such abatement,\nI could not, during the whole time, sleep half a quarter of an\nhour together, insomuch that every one looked upon me as a dead\nman.  But, God be praised, I recovered merely by my former regular\ncourse of life, though then in my seventy-eighth year, and in the\ncoldest season of a very cold year, and reduced to a mere skeleton;\nand I am positive that it was the great regularity I had observed\nfor so many years, and that only, which rescued me from the jaws\nof death.  In all that time I never knew what sickness was, unless\nI may call by that same name some slight indispositions of a day\nor two's continuance; the regular life I had led, as I have\nalready taken notice, for so many years, not having permitted any\nsuperfluous or bad humours to breed in me; or if they did, to\nacquire such strength and malignity, a they generally acquire in\nthe superannuated bodies of those, who live without rule.  And as\nthere was not any old malignity in my humours (which is the thing\nthat kills people) but only that, which my new irregularity had\noccasioned, this fit of sickness, though exceeding violent, had\nnot the strength to destroy me.  This it was, and nothing else,\nthat saved my life; whence may be gathered, how great is the\npower and efficacy of regularity; and how great, likewise, is\nthat of irregularity, which in a few days could bring on me so\nterrible a fit of sickness, just as regularity had preserved me\nin health for so many years.\n\nAnd it appears to me a no weak argument, that, since the world,\nconsisting of the four elements, is upheld by order; and our\nlife, as to the body, is no other than a harmonious combination\nof the same four elements, so it should be preserved and maintained\nby the very same order; and, on the other hand, it must be worn\nout by sickness, or destroyed by death, which are produced by the\ncontrary effects.  By order the arts are more easily learned; by\norder armies are rendered victorious; by order, in a word,\nfamilies, cities, and even states are maintained.  Hence I\nconcluded, that orderly living is no other than a most certain\ncause and foundation of health and long life; nay I cannot help\nsaying, that it is the only and true medicine; and whoever weighs\nthe matter well, must also conclude, that this is really the case.\nHence it is, that when a physician comes to visit a patient, the\nfirst thing he prescribes, is to live regularly.  In like manner,\nwhen a physician takes leave of a patient, on his being recovered,\nhe advises him, as he tenders his health, to lead a regular life.\nAnd it is not to be doubted, that, were a patient so recovered\nto live in that manner, he could never be sick again, as it\nremoves every cause of illness; and so, for the future, would\nnever want either physician or physic.  Nay, by attending duly\nto what I have said, he would become his own physician, and,\nindeed, the best he could have; since, in fact, no many can be a\nperfect physician to any one but himself.  The reason of which is,\nthat any man may, by repeated trials, acquire a perfect knowledge\nof his own constitution, and the most hidden qualities of his\nbody; and what wine and food agree with his stomach.  Now, it\nis so far from being an easy matter to know these things perfectly\nof another, that we cannot without much trouble discover them in\nourselves, since a great deal of time and repeated trials are\nrequisite for the purpose.\n\nThese trials are, indeed, (if I may say it) more than necessary,\nas there is a greater variety in the natures and constitutions of\ndifferent men, than in their persons.  Who could believe, that\nold wine, wine that had passed its first year, should disagree\nwith my stomach, and new wine agree with it? and that pepper,\nwhich is looked upon as a warm spice, should not have a warm\neffect upon me, insomuch that I find myself more warmed and\ncomforted by cinnamon?  Where is the physician, that could have\ninformed me of these two latent qualities, since I myself, even\nby a long course of observation, could scarce discover them?\nFrom all these reasons it follows, that it is impossible to be\na perfect physician to another.  Since, therefore, a man cannot\nhave a better physician than himself, nor any physic better than\na regular life, a regular life he ought to embrace.\n\nI do not, however, mean, that, for the knowledge and cure of\nsuch disorders, as often befall those who do not live regularly,\nthere is no occasion for a physician, and that his assistance\nought to be slighted.  For, if we are apt to receive such great\ncomfort from friends, who come to visit us in our illness, though\nthey do no more than testify their concern for us, and bid us be\nof good cheer; how much more regard ought we to have for the\nphysician, who is a friend that comes to see us in order to\nrelieve us, and promises us a cure?  But for the bare purpose of\nkeeping ourselves in good health, I am of the opinion, that we\nshould consider as a physician this regular life, which, as we\nhave seen, is our natural and proper physic, since it preserves\nmen, even those of a bad constitution, in health; makes them live\nsound and hearty to the age of one hundred and upwards; and\nprevents their dying of sickness, or through a corruption of their\nhumours, but merely by a dissolution of their radical moisture,\nwhen quite exhausted; all which effects several wise men have\nattributed to potable gold, and the elixir, sought for by many,\nbut discovered by few.  However to confess the truth, men, for\nthe most part, are very sensual and intemperate, and love to\nsatisfy their appetites, and to commit every excess; therefore,\nseeing that they cannot avoid being greatly injured by such\nexcess, as often as they are guilty of it, they, by way of\napologizing for their conduct, say, that it is better to live ten\nyears less, and enjoy themselves; not considering, of what\nimportance are ten years more of life, especially a healthy life,\nand at a maturer age; when men become sensible of their progress\nin knowledge and virtue, which cannot attain to any degree of\nperfection before this period of life.\n\nNot to speak, at present, of many other advantages, I shall\nbarely mention that in regard to letters and the sciences; far\nthe greatest number of the best and most celebrated books extant,\nwere written during that period of life, and those ten years, which\nsome make it their business to undervalue, in order to give a loose\nto their appetites.  Be that as it will, I would not act like them.\nI rather coveted to live these ten years, and, had I not done so,\nI should never have finished those tracts, which I have composed\nin consequence of my having been sound and hearty these ten years\npast; and which I have the pleasure to think will be of service to\nothers.  These sensualists add, that a regular life is such as no\nman can lead.  To this I answer, Galen, who was so great a\nphysician, led such a life, and chose it as the best physic.  The\nsame did Plato, Cicero, Isocrates, and many other great men of\nformer times; whom, not to tire the reader, I shall forbear naming:\nand, in our own days, pope Paul Farnese led it, and cardinal Bembo;\nand it was for that reason they lived so long; likewise our two\ndoges, Lando and Donato; besides many others of meaner condition,\nand those who live not only in cities, but also in different parts\nof the country, who all found great benefit by conforming to this\nregularity.  Therefore, since many have led this life, and many\nactually lead it, it is not such a life but that every one may\nconform to it; and the more so, as no great difficulty attends it;\nnothing, indeed, being requisite but to begin in good earnest, as\nthe above-mentioned Cicero affirms, and all those who now live\nin this manner.  Plato, you will say, though he himself lived very\nregularly, affirms, notwithstanding, that, in republics, men\ncannot do so, being often obligated to expose themselves to heat,\ncold, and several other kinds of hardship, and other things,\nwhich are all so many disorders, and incompatable with a regular\nlife.  I answer, as I have already observed, that these are not\ndisorders attended with any bad consequence, or which affect\neither health or life, when the man, who undergoes them, observes\nthe rules of sobriety, and commits no excess in the two points\nconcerning diet, which a republican may very well avoid, nay it\nis requisite he should avoid; because, by so doing, he may be\nsure either to escape those disorders, which, otherwise, it\nwould be no easy matter for him to escape while exposed to these\nhardships; or, in case he could not escape them, he may more\neasily and speedily prevent their bad effects.\n\nHere it may be objected, and some actually object, that he,\nwho leads a regular life, having constantly, when well, made\nuse of food fit for the sick, and in small quantities, has no\nresource left in case of illness.  To this I might, in the\nfirst place, answer, that nature, desirous to preserve man\nin good health as long as possible, informs him, herself, how\nhe is to act in time of illness; for she immediately deprives\nhim, when sick, of his appetite, in order that he may eat but\nlittle; because nature (as I have said already) is satisfied\nwith little; wherefore, it is requisite, that a man, when\nsick, whether he has been  a regular or irregular liver, should\nuse no meats, but such as are suited to his disorder; and of\nthese even in a much smaller quantity than he was wont to do,\nwhen in health.  For were he to eat as much as he used to do, he\nwould die by it; because it would be only adding to the burden,\nwith which nature was already oppressed, by giving her a greater\nquantity of food, than she can in such circumstances support; and\nthis, I imagine, would be a sufficient caution to any sick\nperson.  But, independent of all this, I might answer some others,\nand still better, that whoever leads a regular life, cannot be\nsick; or, at least, but seldom, and for a short time; because,\nby living regularly, he extirpates every seed of sickness; and\nthus, by removing the cause, prevents the effect; so that he,\nwho pursues a regular course of life, need not be apprehensive\nof illness, as he need not be afraid of the effect, who has\nguarded against the cause.\n\nSince it therefore appears that a regular life is so\nprofitable and virtuous, so lovely and so holy, it ought to be\nuniversally followed and embraced; and more so, as it does not\nclash with the means or duties of any station, but is easy to\nall; because, to lead it, a man need not tie himself down to\neat so little as I do, or not to eat fruit, fish, and other\nthings of that kind, from which I abstain, who eat little,\nbecause it is sufficient for my puny and weak stomach; and fruit,\nfish, and other things of that kind, disagree with me, which is\nmy reason for not touching them.  Those, however, with whom such\nthings agree, may, and ought to eat of them; since they are not by\nany means forbid the use use of such sustinance.  But, then, both\nthey, and all others, are forbid to eat a greater quantity of any\nkind of food, even of that which agrees with them, than what their\nstomachs can easily digest; the same is to be understood of drink.\nHence it is that those, with whom nothing disagrees, are not\nbound to observe any rule but that relating to the quantity, and\nnot to the quality, of their food; a rule which they may, without\nthe least difficulty in the world, comply with.\n\nLet nobody tell me, that there are numbers, who, though they live\nmost irregularly, live in health and spirits, to those remote\nperiods of life, attained by the most sober; for, this argument\nbeing grounded on a case full of uncertainty and hazard, and\nwhich, besides, so seldom occurs, as to look more like a miracle\nthan the work of nature, men should not suffer themselves to be\nthereby persuaded to live irregularly, nature having been too\nliberal to those, who did so without suffering by it; a favour,\nwhich very few have any right to expect.  Whoever, trusting to\nhis youth, or the strength of his constitution, or the goodness of\nhis stomach, slights these observations, must expect to suffer\ngreatly by so doing, and live in constant danger of disease and\ndeath.  I therefore affirm, that an old man, even of a bad\nconstitution, who leads a regular and sober life, is surer of a\nlong one, than a young man of the best constitution, who leads a\ndisorderly life.  It is not to be doubted, however, that a man\nblessed with a good constitution may, by living temperately,\nexpect to live longer than one, whose constitution is not so\ngood; and that God and nature can dispose matters so, that a man\nshall bring into the world with him so sound a constitution, as\nto live long and healthy, without observing such strick rules;\nand then die in a very advanced age through a mere dissolution\nof his elementary parts; as was the case, in Venice, of the\nprocurator Thomas Contarini; and in Padua, of the cavalier\nAntonio Capo di Vacca.  But it is not one man in a hundred\nthousand, that so much can be said of.  If others have a mind\nto live long and healthy, and die without sickness of body or\nmind, but by mere dissolution, they must submit to live regularly,\nsince the cannot otherwise expect to enjoy the fruits of such a\nlife, which are almost infinite in number, and each of them, in\nparticular, of infinite value.  For, as such regularity keeps the\nhumours of the body cleansed and purified; it suffers no vapors to\nascend from the stomach to the head; hence the brain of him, who\nlives in that manner, enjoys such a constant serenity, that he is\nalways perfectly master of himself.  He, therefore, easily soars\nabove the low and groveling concerns of this life, to the exalted\nand beautiful contemplation of heavenly things, to his exceeding\ngreat comfort and satisfaction; because he, by this means, comes\nto consider, know, and understand that, which otherwise he would\nnever have considered, known, or understood; that is, how great\nis the power, wisdom, and goodness of the Deity.  He then\ndescends into nature, and acknowledges her for the daughter of God;\nand sees, and even feels with his hands, that, which in any other\nage, or with a perception less clear, he could never have seen\nor felt.  He then truly discerns the brutality of that vice into\nwhich they fall, who know not how to subdue their passions, and\nthose three importunate lusts, which, one would imagine, came\nall together into the world with us, in order to keep us in\nperpetual anxiety and disturbance.  These are, the lust of the\nflesh, the lust of honours, and the lust of riches; which are apt\nto increase with years in such old persons as do not lead a regular\nlife; because, in their passage through the stage of manhood,\nthey did not, as they ought, renounce sensuality and their passions;\nand take up with sobriety and reason; virtues which men of a regular\nlife, did not neglect when they passed through the above-mentioned\nstage.  For, knowing such passions are such lusts to be inconsistent\nwith reason, by which they are entirely governed; they, at once,\nbroke loose from all temptations to vice; and, instead of being\nslaves to their inordinate appetites, they applied themselves to\nvirtue and good works; and by these means, they altered their\nconduct, and became men of good and sober lives.  When, therefore,\nin process of time, they see themselves brought by a long series of\nyears to their dissolution, conscious that, through the singular\nmercy of God, they had so sincerely relinquished the paths of vice,\nas never afterwards to enter them; and moreover hoping, through the\nmerits of our Saviour Jesus Christ, to die in his favour, they do\nnot suffer themselves to be cast down at the thoughts of death,\nknowing that they must die.  This is particularly the case, when,\nloaded with honour, and sated with life, they see themselves arrived\nat that age, which not one in many thousands of those, who live\notherwise, ever attains.  They have still the greater reason not to\nbe dejected at the thoughts of death, as it does not attack them\nviolently and by surprize, with a bitter and painful turn of their\nhumours, with feverish sensations, and sharp pains, but steals\nupon them insensibly and with the greatest ease and gentleness;\nsuch an end, proceeding intirely from an exhaustion of the radical\nmoisture, which decays by degrees like the oil of a lamp; so that\nthey pass gently, without any sickness, from this terrestrial and\nmortal to a celestial and eternal life.\n\nO holy and truly happy regularity!  How holy and happy should men,\nin fact, deem thee, since the opposite habit is the cause of such\nguilt and misery, as evidently appears to those who consider the\nopposite effects of both! so that men should know thee by thy voice\nalone, and thy lovely name; for what a glorious name, what a noble\nthing, is an orderly and sober life! as, on the contrary, the bare\nmention of disorder and intemperance is offensive to our ears.\nNay, there is the same difference between the mentioning these two\nthings, as between the uttering of the words angel and devil.\n\nThus I have assigned my reasons for abandoning intemperance, and\nbetaking myself intirely to a sober life; with the method I\npursued in doing so, and what was the consequence of it; and,\nfinally, the advantages an blessings, which a sober life confers\nupon those who embrace it.  Some sensual, inconsiderate persons\naffirm, that a long life is no blessing; and that the state of a\nman, who has passed his seventy-fifth year, cannot really be called\nlife, but death: but this is a great mistake, as I shall fully\nprove; and it is my sincere wish, that all men would endeavour to\nattain my old age, in order that they too may enjoy that period of\nlife, which of all others is the most desirable.\n\nI will therefore give an account of my recreations, and the relish\nwhich I find at this stage of life, in order to convince the public\n(which may likewise be done by all those who know me) that the state\nI have now attained to is by no means death, but real life; such a\nlife, as by many is deemed happy, since it abounds with all the\nfelicity that can be enjoyed in this world.  And this testimony\nthey will give, in the first place, because they see, and not\nwithout the greatest amazement, the good state of health and\nspirits I enjoy; how I mount my horse without any assistance, or\nadvantage of situation; and how I not only ascend a single flight\nof stairs, but climb up an hill from bottom to top, afoot, and\nwith the greatest of ease and unconcern; then how gay, pleasant,\nand good-humoured I am; how free from every perturbation of mind,\nand every disagreeable thought; in lieu of which, joy and peace\nhave so firmly fixed their residence in my bosom, as never to\ndepart from it.  Moreover, they know in what manner I pass my\ntime, so as not to find life a burden; seeing I can contrive to\nspend every hour of it with the greatest delight and pleasure,\nhaving frequent opportunities of conversing with many honourable\ngentlemen, men valuable for their good sense and manners, their\nacquaintance with letters, and every other good quality.  Then,\nwhen I cannot enjoy their conversation, I betake myself to the\nreading of some good book.  When I have read as much as I like,\nI write; endeavouring, in this as in everything else, to be of\nservice to others, to the utmost of my power.  And all these\nthings I do with the greatest ease to myself, at their proper\nseasons, and in my own house; which, besides being situated in\nthe most beautiful quarter of this noble and learned city of\nPadua, is, in itself, really convenient and handsome, such, in a\nword, as it is no longer the fashion to build; for, in one part\nof it, I can shelter myself from extreme heat; and, in the other,\nfrom extreme cold, having contrived the apartments according to\nthe rules of architecture, which teach us what is to be observed\nin practice.  Besides this house, I have my several gardens,\nsupplied with running waters; and in which I always find something\nto do, that amuses me.  I have another way of diverting myself,\nwhich is going every April and May; and, likewise, every September\nand October, for some days, to enjoy an eminence belonging to me\nin the Euganean mountains, and in the most beautiful part of them,\nadorned with fountains and gardens; and, above all, a convenient\nand handsome lodge; in which place I likewise now and then make\none in some hunting party suitable to my taste and age.  Then I\nenjoy for as many days my villa in the plain, which is laid out\nin regular streets, all terminating in a large square, in the\nmiddle of which stands a church, suited to the condition of the\nplace.  This villa is divided by a wide and rapid branch of the\nriver Brenta, on both sides of which there is a considerable\nextent of country, consisting intirely of fertile and\nwell-cultivated fields.  Besides, this district is now, God be\npraised, exceedingly well inhabited, which it was not at first,\nbut rather the reverse; for it was marshy; and the air so\nunwholesome, as to make it a residence fitter for snakes than men.\nBut, on my draining off the waters, the air mended, and people\nresorted to it so fast, and increased to such a degree, that it\nsoon acquired the perfection in which it now appears: hence, I may\nsay with truth, that I have offered this place, an alter and a\ntemple to God, with souls to adore him: these are things which\nafford me infinite pleasure, comfort, and satisfaction, as often\nas I go to see and enjoy them.\n\nAt the same seasons every year, I revisit some of the neighbouring\ncities, and enjoy such of my friends as live there, taking the\ngreatest pleasure in their company and conversation; and by their\nmeans I also enjoy the conversation of other men of parts, who\nlive in the same places; such as architects, painters, sculptors,\nmusicians, and husbandmen, with whom this age certainly abounds.\nI visit their new works; I revisit their former ones; and I always\nlearn something, which gives me satisfaction.  I see palaces,\ngardens, antiquities; and with these, the squares and other public\nplaces, the churches, the fortifications, leaving nothing\nunobserved, from whence I may reap either entertainment or\ninstruction.  But what delights me most, is, in my journies\nbackwards and forwards, to contemplate the situation and other\nbeauties of the places I pass through; some in the plain, others\non hills, adjoining to rivers or fountains; with a great many fine\nhouses and gardens.  Nor are my recreations rendered less agreeable\nand entertaining by my not feeling well, or not hearing readily\nevery thing that is said to me; or by any other of my faculties not\nbeing perfect; for they are all, thank God, in the highest\nperfection; particularly my palate, which now relishes better the\nsimple fare I eat, wherever I happen to be, than it formerly did\nwith the most delicate dishes, when I led an irregular life.  Nor\ndoes the change of beds give me any uneasiness, so that I sleep\nevery where soundly and quietly, without experiencing the least\ndisturbance; and all my dreams are pleasant and delightful.\n\nIt is likewise with the greatest pleasure and satisfaction I behold\nthe success of an undertaking so important to this state, I mean\nthat of draining and improving so many uncultivated pieces of\nground, an undertaking begun within my memory; and which I never\nthought I should live to see compleated; knowing how slow republics\nare apt to proceed in enterprises of great importance.\nNevertheless, I have lived to see it; and was even in person, in\nthe marshy places, along with those appointed to superintend the\ndraining of them, for two months together, during the greatest\nheats of summer, without ever finding myself the worse for the\nfatigues of inconveniences I suffered; of so much efficacy is that\norderly life, which I every where constantly lead.\n\nWhat is more, I am in the greatest hopes, or rather sure, to see the\nbeginning and completion of another undertaking of no less\nimportance, which is that of preserving our estuary or port, that\nlast and wonderful bulwark of my dear country, the preservation of\nwhich (it is not to flatter my vanity to say it, but merely to do\njustice to the truth) has been more than once recommended by me to\nthis republic, by word of mouth, and in writings which cost me many\nnights study.  And to this dear country of mine, as I am bound by\nthe laws of nature to do every thing, from which it may reap any\nbenefit, so I most ardently wish perpetual duration, and a long\nsuccession of every kind of prosperity.  Such are my genuine and\nno trifling satisfactions; such are the recreations and diversions\nof my old age, which is so much the more to be valued than the old\nage, or even youth, of other men, because being freed, by God's\ngrace, from the perturbations of the mind, and the infirmities of\nthe body, it no longer experiences any of those contrary emotions,\nwhich torment a number of young men, and many old ones destitute of\nstrength and health, and every other blessing.\n\nAnd if it be lawful to compare little matters, and such as are\nesteemed trifling, to affairs of importance, I will further\nventure to say, that such are the effects of this sober life,\nthat at my present age of eighty-three, I have been able to write\na very entertaining comedy, abounding with innocent mirth and\npleasant jests. This species of composition is generally the child\nand offspring of youth, as tragedy is that of old age; the former\nbeing by its facetious and sprightly turn suited to the bloom of\nlife, and the latter by its gravity adapted to riper years.  Now,\nif that good old man [Sophocles], a Grecian by birth, and a poet,\nwas so much extolled for having written a tragedy at the age of\nseventy-three, and, on that account alone, reputed of sound memory\nand understanding, though tragedy be a grave and melancholy poem;\nwhy should I be deemed less happy, and to have a smaller share of\nmemory and understanding, who have, at an age, ten years more\nadvanced than his, written a comedy, which, as every one knows,\nis a merry and pleasant kind of composition?  And, indeed, if I may\nbe allowed to be an impartial judge in my own cause, I cannot help\nthinking, that I am now of sounder memory and understanding, and\nheartier, than hew was when ten years younger.\n\nAnd, that no comfort might be wanting to the fulness of my years,\nwhereby my great age may be rendered less irksome, or rather the\nnumber of my enjoyments increased, I have the additional comfort\nof seeing a kind of immortality in a succession of descendants.\nFor, as often as I return home, I find there, before me, not one\nor two, but eleven grandchildren, the oldest of them eighteen,\nand the youngest two; all the offspring of one father and one\nmother; all blessed with the best health; and, by what as yet\nappears, fond of learning, and of good parts and morals.  Some of\nthe youngest I always play with; and, indeed, children from three\nto five are only fit for play.  Those above that age I make\ncompanions of; and, as nature has bestowed very fine voices upon\nthem, I amuse myself, besides, with seeing and hearing them sing,\nand play on various instruments.  Nay, I sing myself, as I have a\nbetter voice now, and a clearer and louder pipe, than at any other\nperiod of life.  Such are the recreations of my old age.\n\nWhence it appears, that the life I lead is chearful, and not\ngloomy, as some persons pretend, who know no better; to whom, in\norder that it may appear what value I set on every other kind of\nlife, I must declare, that I would not exchange my manner of\nliving or my grey hairs with any of those young men, even of the\nbest constitution, who give way to their appetites; knowing, as I\ndo, that such are daily, nay hourly, subject, as I have observed,\nto a thousand kind of ailments and deaths.  This is, in fact, so\nobvious, as to require no proof.  Nay, I remember perfectly well,\nhow I used to behave at that time of life.  I know how\ninconsiderately that age is apt to act, and how foolhardy young men,\nhurried on by the heat of their blood, are wont to be; how apt they\nare to presume too much on their own strength in all their actions;\nand how sanguine they are in their expectations; as well on account\nof the little experience they have had for the the time past, as\nby reason of the power they enjoy in their own imaginations over\nthe time to come.  Hence they expose themselves rashly to every\nkind of danger; and, banishing reason, and bowing their necks to\nthe yoke of concupiscence, endeavour to gratify all their appetites,\nnot minding, fools as they are, that they thereby hasten, as I have\nseveral times observed, the approach of what they would most\nwillingly avoid, I mean sickness, and death.  Of these two evils,\none is troublesome and painful, the other, above all things,\ndreadful and insupportable; insupportable to every man, who has\ngiven himself up to his sensual appetites, and to young men in\nparticular, to whom it appears a hardship to die an early death;\ndreadful to those, who reflect on the errors, to which this mortal\nlife is subject, and on the vengeance, which the justice of God is\nwont to take on sinners, by condemning them to everlasting\npunishment.  On the other hand, I, in my old age (praise to the\nAlmighty) am exempt from both these apprehensions; from the one,\nbecause I am sure and certain, that I cannot fall sick, having\nremoved all the causes of illness by my divine medicine; from the\nother, that of death, because from so many years experience I have\nlearned to obey reason; whence I not only think it a great piece\nof folly to fear that, which cannot be avoided, but likewise\nfirmly expect some consolation, from the grace of Jesus Christ,\nwhen I shall arrive at that period.\n\nBesides, though I am sensible that I must, like others, reach\nthat term, it is yet at so great a distance, that I cannot\ndiscern it, because I know I shall not die except by mere\ndissolution, having already, by my regular course of life, shut\nup all the other avenues of death, and thereby prevented the humours\nof my body from making any other war upon me, than that which I must\nexpect from the elements employed in the composition of this mortal\nframe.  I am not so simple as not to know, that, as I was born,\nso I must die.  But that is a desirable death, which nature brings\non us by way of dissolution.  For nature, having herself formed\nthe union between our body and soul, knows best in what manner it\nmay be most easily dissolved, and grants us a longer day to do it,\nthan we could expect from sickness, which is violent.  This is the\ndeath, which, without speaking like a poet, I may call, not death,\nbut life.  Nor can it be otherwise.  Such a death does not overtake\none till after a very long course of years, and in consequence of\nan extreme weakness; it being only by slow degrees, that men grow\ntoo feeble to walk, and unable to reason, becoming blind, and\ndeaf, decrepid, and full of every other kind of infirmity.  Now I\n(by God's blessing) may be quite sure that I am at a very great\ndistance from such a period.  Nay, I have reason to think, that\nmy soul, having so agreeable a dwelling in my body, as not to meet\nwith any thing in it but peace, love, and harmony, not only between\nits humours, but between my reason and my senses, is exceedingly\ncontent and well pleased with her present situation: and of course,\nthat a great length of time and many years must be requisite to\ndislodge her.  Whence it must be concluded for certain, that I have\nstill a series of years to live in health and spirits, and enjoy\nthis beautiful world, which is, indeed, beautiful to those, who\nknow how to make it so, as I have done, and likewise expect to be\nable to do, with God's assistance, in the next; and all by the\nmeans of virtue, and that divine regularity of life, which I have\nadopted, concluding an alliance with my reason, and declaring war\nagainst my sensual appetites; a thing which every man may do,\nwho desired to live as he ought.\n\nNow, if this sober life be so happy; if its name be so desirable\nand delightful; if the possession of the blessings which attend\nit, be so stable and permanent, all I have still left to do, is\nto beseech (since I cannot compass my desires by the powers of\noratory) every man of a liberal disposition, and sound\nunderstanding, to embrace with open arms this most valuable\ntreasure of a long and healthy life; a treasure, which as it\nexceeds all the other riches and blessings of this world, so it\ndeserves above all things to be cherished, sought after, and\ncarefully preserved.  This is that divine sobriety, agreeable to\nthe Deity, the friend of nature, the daughter of reason, the sister\nof all the virtues, the companion of temperate living, modest,\ncourteous, content with little, regular, and perfect mistress of\nall her operations.  From her, as from their proper root, spring\nlife, health, chearfulness, industry, learning, and all those\nactions and employments worth of noble and generous minds.  The\nlaws of God and man are all in her favour.  Repletion, excess,\nintemperance, superfluous humours, diseases, fevers, pains, and\nthe dangers of death, vanish, in her presence, like clouds before\nthe sun.  Her comeliness ravishes every well-disposed mind.  Her\ninfluence is so sure, as to promise to all a very long and\nagreeable existence; the facility of acquiring her is such, as\nought to induce every one to look for her, and share in her\nvictories.  And, lastly, she promises to be a mild and agreeable\nguardian of life; as well of the rich as of the poor; of the male\nas of the female sex; the old as of the young; being that, which\nteaches the rich modesty; the poor frugality; men, continence;\nwomen, chastity; the old, how to ward off the attacks of death;\nand bestows on youth firmer and securer hopes of life.  Sobriety\nrenders the senses clear, the body light, the understanding lively,\nthe soul brisk, the memory tenacious, our motions free, and all\nour actions regular and easy.  By means of sobriety, the soul\ndelivered, as it were, of her earthly burthen, experiences a great\ndeal of her natural liberty: the spirits circulate gently through\nthe arteries; the blood runs freely through the veins; the heat of\nthe body, kept mild and temperate, has mild and temperate effects:\nand, lastly, our faculties, being under a perfect regulation,\npreserves a pleasing and agreeable harmony.\n\nO most innocent and holy sobriety, the sole refreshment of nature,\nthe nursing mother of human life, the true physic of soul as well\nas of body.  How ought men to praise thee, and thank thee for thy\nprincely gifts! since thou bestowest on them the means of\npreserving this blessing, I mean life and health, than which it has\nnot pleased God we should enjoy a greater on this side of the grave,\nlife and existence being a thing so naturally coveted, and\nwillingly preserved, by every living creature.  But, as I do not\nintend to write a panegyric on this rare and excellent virtue, I\nshall put an end to this discourse, lest I should be guilty of\nexcess, in dwelling so long on so pleasing a subject.  Yet as\nnumberless things may still be said of it, I leave off, with an\nintention of setting forth the rest of its praises at a more\nconvenient opportunity.\n\n\n\nA COMPENDIUM OF A SOBER LIFE\n\nMy treatise on a sober life has begun to answer my desire, in\nbeing of service to many persons born with a weak constitution,\nwho every time they committed the least excess, found themselves\ngreatly indisposed, a thing which it must be allowed does not\nhappen to robust people: several of these persons of weak\nconstitutions, on seeing the foregoing treatise, have betaken\nthemselves to a regular course of life, convinced by experience\nof its utility.  In like manner, I should be glad to be of service\nto those, who are born with a good constitution, and presuming\nupon it, lead a disorderly life; whence it comes to pass, that, on\ntheir attaining the age of sixty or thereabouts, they are attacked\nwith various pains and diseases; some with the gout, some with\npains in the side, and others with pains in the stomach, and the\nlike, to which they would not be subject, were they to embrace a\nsober life; and as most of them die before they attain their\neightieth year, they would live to a hundred, the time allowed to\nman by God and nature.  And, it is but reasonable to believe, that\nthe intention of this our mother is, that we should all attain that\nterm, in order that we might all taste the sweets of every state of\nlife.  But, as our birth is subject to the revolution of the\nheavens, these have great influence over it, especially in rendering\nour constitutions robust or infirm; a thing, which nature cannot\nward against; for, if she could, we should all bring a good\nconstitution with us into the world.  But then she hopes, that man,\nbeing endowed with reason and understanding, may of himself\ncompensate, by dint of art, the want of that, which the heavens\nhave denied him; and, by means of a sober life, contrive to mend\nhis infirm constitution, live to a great age, and always enjoy\ngood health.\n\nFor man, it is not to be doubted, may by art exempt himself in\npart from the influence of the heavens; it being common opinion,\nthat the heavens give an inclination, but do not impel us; for\nwhich reason the learned say, that a wise man rules the stars.  I\nwas born with a very choleric disposition, insomuch that there was\nno living with me; but I took notice of it, and considered, that a\nperson swayed by his passion, must at certain times be no better\nthan a madman; I mean at those times, when he suffers his passions\nto predominate, because he then renounces his reason and\nunderstanding.  I, therefore, resolved to make my choleric\ndisposition give way to reason; so that now, though born choleric, I\nnever suffer anger intirely to overcome me.  The man, who is\nnaturally of a bad constitution, may, in like manner, by dint of\nreason, and a sober life, live to a great age and in good health,\nas I have done, who had naturally the worst, so that it was\nimpossible I should live above forty years, whereas I now find\nmyself sound and hearty at the age of eighty-six; and were it not\nfor the long and violent fits of illness which I experienced in\nmy youth to such a degree, that the physicians gave me over, and\nwhich robbed me of my radical moisture, a loss absolutely\nirreparable, I might expect to attain the abovementioned term of\none hundred.  But I know for good reasons that it is impossible;\nand, therefore, do not think of it.  It is enough for me, that I\nhave lived forty-six years beyond the term I had a right to expect;\nand that, during this so long a respite, all my senses have\ncontinued perfect; and even my teeth, my voice, my memory, and my\nstrength.  But what is still more, my brain is more itself now\nthan it ever was; nor do any of these powers abate as I advance in\nyears; and this because, as I grow older, I lessen the quantity of\nmy solid food.\n\nThis retrenchment is necessary, nor can it be avoided, since it is\nimpossible for a man to live for ever; and, as he draws near his\nend, he is reduced so low as to be no longer able to take any\nnourishment, unless it be to swallow, and that too with difficulty,\nthe yolk of an egg in the four and twenty hours, and thus end by\nmere dissolution, without any pain or sickness, as I expect will\nbe my case.  This is a blessing of great importance; yet may be\nexpected by all those, who shall lead a sober life, of whatever\ndegree or condition, whether high, or middling, or low; for we\nare all of the same species, and composed of the same four elements.\nAnd, since a long and healthy life ought to be greatly coveted by\nevery man, as I shall presently shew, I conclude, that every man\nis bound in duty to exert himself to obtain longevity, and that he\ncannot promise himself such a blessing without temperance and\nsobriety.\n\nSome allege, that many, without leading such a life, have lived\nto an hundred, and that in constant health, though they eat a\ngreat deal, and used indiscriminately every kinds of viands and\nwine; and, therefore, flatter themselves, that they shall be\nequally fortunate.  But in this they are guilty of two mistakes;\nthe first is, that it is not one in an hundred thousand that\never attains that happiness; the other mistake is, that such, in\nthe end, most assuredly contract some illness, which carries them\noff: nor can they ever be sure of ending their days otherwise:\nso that the safest way to obtain a long and healthy life is, at\nleast after forty, to embrace sobriety.  This is no such difficult\naffair, since history informs us of so many who in former times\nlived with the greatest temperance; and I know that the present\nage furnishes us with many such instances, reckoning myself one of\nthe number: we are all human beings, and endowed with reason,\nconsequently we are masters of our actions.\n\nThis sobriety is reduced to two things, quality and quantity.  The\nfirst, namely quality, consists in nothing, but not eating food, or\ndrinking wines, prejudicial to the stomach.  The second, which is\nquantity, consists in not eating or drinking more than the stomach\ncan easily digest; which quantity and quality every man should be\na perfect judge of by the time he is forty, or fifty, or sixty; and,\nwhoever observes these two rules, may be said to live a regular and\nsober life.  This is of so much virtue and efficacy, that the\nhumours of such a man's body become most homogeneous, harmonious,\nand perfect; and, when thus improved, are no longer liable to be\ncorrupted or disturbed by any other disorders whatsoever, such as\nsuffering excessive heat or cold, too much fatigue, want of natural\nrest, and the like, unless in the last degree of excess.  Wherefore,\nsince the humours of persons, who observe these two rules relative\nto eating and drinking, cannot possibly be corrupted, and engender\nacute diseases, the sources of an untimely death, every man is\nbound to comply with them: for whoever acts otherwise, living a\ndisorderly instead of a regular life, is constantly exposed to\ndisease and mortality, as well in consequence of such disorders,\nas of others without number, each of which is capable of producing\nthe same destructive effect.\n\nIt is, indeed, true, that even those, who observe the two rules\nrelating to diet, the observance of which constitutes a sober life,\nmay, by committing any one of the other irregularities, find\nhimself the worse for it, for a day or two; but not so as to breed\na fever.  He may, likewise, be affected by the revolutions of the\nheavens; but neither the heavens, nor those irregularities, are\ncapable of corrupting the humours of a temperate person; and it is\nbut reasonable and natural it should be so, as the two\nirregularities of diet are interior, and the others exterior.\n\nBut as there are some persons, stricken in years, who are,\nnotwithstanding, very gluttonous, and alledge that neither the\nquantity or quality of their diet makes any impression upon\nthem, and therefore eat a great deal, and of every thing without\ndistinction, and indulge themselves equally in point of drinking,\nbecause they do not know in what part of their bodies their\nstomachs are situated; such, no doubt, are beyond all measure\nsensual, and slaves to gluttony.  To these I answer, that what\nthey say is impossible in the nature of things, because it is\nimpossible that every man, who comes into the world, should not\nbring with him a hot, a cold, or a temperate constitution; and\nthat hot foods should agree with hot constitutions, cold with\ncold ones, and things that are not of a temperate nature, with\ntemperate ones, is likewise impossible in nature.  After all,\nthese epicures must allow, that they are now and then out of\norder; and that they cure themselves by taking evacuating\nmedicines and observing a strict diet.  Whence it appears, that\ntheir being out of order is owing to their eating too much, and\nof things disagreeing with their stomachs.\n\nThere are other old gluttons, who say, that it is necessary they\nshould eat and drink a great deal, to keep up their natural heat,\nwhich is constantly diminishing, as they advance in years; and that\nit is, therefore, necessary to eat heartily, and of such things as\nplease their palate, be they hot, cold, or temperate; and that, were\nthey to lead a sober life, it would be a short one.  To these I\nanswer, that our kind mother, nature, in order that old men may live\nstill to a greater age, has contrived matters so, that they should\nbe able to subsist on little, as I do; for, large quantities of\nfood cannot be digested by old and feeble stomachs.  Nor should\nsuch persons be afraid of shortening their days by eating too\nlittle, since when they happen to be indisposed, they recover by\nlessening the quantity of their food; for it is a trifle they eat,\nwhen confined to a regimen, by observing which they get rid of their\ndisorder.  Now, if by reducing themselves to a very small quantity\nof food, they recover from the jaws of death, how can they doubt\nbut that with an increase of diet, still consistent however with\nsobriety, they will be able to support nature when in perfect\nhealth?\n\nOthers say, that it is better for a man to suffer every year three\nor four returns of his usual disorders, such as the gout, pain in\nthe side, and the like, than be tormented the whole year by not\nindulging his appetite, and eating every thing his palate likes\nbest; since, by a good regimen alone, he is sure to get the better\nof such attacks.  To this I answer, that our natural heat growing\nless and less, as we advance in years, no regimen can retain\nvirtue sufficient to conquer the malignity, with which disorders\nof repletion are ever attended; so that he must die, at last, of\nthese periodical disorders, because they abridge life, as health\nprolongs it.\n\nOthers pretend, that it is much better to live ten years less,\nthan not indulge one's appetite.  To this I answer, that\nlongevity ought to be highly valued by men of parts; as to others,\nit is no great matter if it is not duly prized by them, since they\nare a disgrace to mankind, so that their death is rather of service\nto the public.  But it is a great misfortune, that men of bright\nparts should be cut off in that manner, since he, who is already a\ncardinal, might, perhaps, by living to eighty, attain the papal\ncrown; and in the state, many, by living some years extraordinary,\nmay acquire the ducal dignity; and so in regard to letters, by\nwhich a man may rise so as to be considered as a god upon earth;\nand the like in every other profession.\n\nThere are others, who, though their stomachs become weaker and\nweaker with respect to digestion, as they advance in years, cannot,\nhowever, be brought to retrench the quantity of their food, nay\nthey rather increase it.  And, because they find themselves\nunable to digest the great quantity of food, with which they must\nload their stomachs, by eating twice in the four and twenty hours,\nthey make a resolution to eat but once, that the long interval\nbetween one meal and the other may enable them to eat at one sitting\nas much as they used to do in two: thus they eat till their\nstomachs, overburthened with much food, pall, and sicken, and change\nthe superfluous food into bad humours, which kill a man before his\ntime.  I never knew any person, who led that kind of life, live to\nbe very old.  All these old men I have been speaking of would live\nlong, if, as they advanced in years, they lessened the quantity of\ntheir food, and eat oftener, but little at a time; for old\nstomachs cannot digest large quantities of food; old men changing,\nin that respect, to children, who eat several times in the four and\ntwenty hours.\n\nOthers say, that temperance may, indeed, keep a man in health, but\nthat it cannot prolong his life.  To this I answer, that experience\nproves the contrary; and that I myself am a living instance of it.\nIt cannot be said, that sobriety is apt to shorten one's days, as\nsickness does; and that the latter abbreviates life, is most\ncertain.  Moreover, a constant succession of good health is\npreferable to frequent sickness, as the radical moisture is\nthereby preserved.  Hence it may be fairly concluded, that holy\nsobriety is the true parent of health and longevity.\n\nO thrice holy sobriety, so useful to man, by the services thou\nrenderest him! thou prolongest his days, by which means he greatly\nimproves his understanding, and by such improvement he avoids the\nbitter fruits of sensuality, which are an enemy to reason, man's\npeculiar privilege: those bitter fruits are the passions and\nperturbations of the mind.  Thou, moreover, freest him from the\ndreadful thoughts of death.  How greatly is thy faithful disciple\nindebted to thee, since by thy assistance he enjoys this beautiful\nexpanse of the visible world, which is really beautiful to such as\nknow how to view it with the philosophic eye, as thou has enabled\nme to do.  Nor could I, at any other time of life, even when I was\nyoung, but altogether debauched by an irregular life, perceive its\nbeauties, though I spared no pains or expence to enjoy every\nseason of life.  But I found that all the pleasures of that age had\ntheir alloy; so that I never knew, till I grew old, that the world\nwas beautiful.  O truly happy life, which, over and above all these\nfavours conferred on thine old man, hast so improved and perfected\nhis stomach, that he has now a better relish for his dry bread, than\nhe had formerly and in his youth, for the most exquisite dainties:\nand all this he has compassed by acting rationally, knowing, that\nbread is, above all things, man's proper food, when seasoned by a\ngood appetite; and, whilst a man leads a sober life, he may be sure\nof never wanting that natural sauce; because, by always eating\nlittle, the stomach, not being much burthened, need not wait long\nto have an appetite.  It is for this reason, that dry bread relishes\nso well with me; and I know it from experience, and can with truth\naffirm, I find such sweetness in it, that I should be afraid of\nsinning against temperance, were it not for my being convinced of\nthe absolute necessity of eating it, and that we cannot make use of\na more natural food.  And thou, kind parent Nature, who actest so\nlovingly by thy aged offspring, in order to prolong his days, hast\ncontrived matters so in his favour, that he can live upon very\nlittle; and, in order to add to the favour, and do him still greater\nservice, hast made him sensible, that, as in his youth he used to\neat twice a day, when he arrived at old age, he ought to divide\nthat food, of which he was accustomed before to make but two meals,\ninto four; because, thus divided, it will be more easily digested;\nand, as in his youth he made but two meals in the day, he should,\nin his old age, make four, provided however he lessens the quantity,\nas his years increase.  And this is what I do, agreeably to my own\nexperience; and, therefore, my spirits, not oppressed by much food,\nbut barely kept up, are always brisk; especially after eating, so\nthat I am accustomed then to sing a song, and afterwards to write.\n\nNor do I ever find myself the worse for writing immediately after\nmeals; nor is my understanding ever clearer; nor am I apt to be\ndrowsy; the food I take being too small a quantity to send up any\nfumes to the brain.  O, how advantageous it is to an old man to\neat but little!  Accordingly, I, who know it, eat but just enough\nto keep body and soul together; and the things I eat are as follow.\nFirst, bread, panado, some broth with an egg in it, or such other\ngood kinds of soup or spoon-meat.  Of flesh meat, I eat veal, kid,\nand mutton.  I eat poultry of every kind.  I eat partridges, and\nother birds, such as thrushes.  I likewise eat fish; for instance,\nthe goldney and the like, amongst sea fish; and the pike, and such\nlike, amongst the fresh-water fish.  All these things are fit for\nan old man; and, therefore, he ought to be content with them, and,\nconsidering their number and variety, not hanker after others.\nSuch old men, as are too poor to allow themselves provisions of\nthis kind, may do very well with bread, panado, and eggs; things,\nwhich no poor man can want, unless it be common beggars, and, as\nwe call them, vagabonds, about whom we are not bound to make\nourselves uneasy, since they have brought themselves to that pass\nby their indolence; and had better be dead than alive; for they\nare a disgrace to human nature.  But, though a poor man should eat\nnothing but bread, panado, and eggs, there is no necessity for his\neating more than his stomach can digest.  And, whoever does not\ntrespass in point of either quantity or quality, cannot die but by\nmere dissolution.  O, what a difference there is between a regular\nand an irregular life!  One gives longevity and health, the other\nproduces diseases and untimely deaths.\n\nO unhappy, wretched life, my sworn enemy, who art good for nothing\nbut to murder those, who follow thee!  How many of my dearest\nrelations and friends hast thou robbed me of, in consequence of\ntheir not giving credit to me; relations and friends, whom I should\nnow enjoy.  But thou hast not been able to destroy me, according to\nthy wicked intent and purpose.  I am still alive in spite of thee,\nand have attained to such an age, as to see around me eleven\ngrandchildren, all of fine understanding, and amiable disposition;\nall given to learning and virtue; all beautiful in their persons\nand lovely in their manners; whom, had I obeyed thy dictates, I\nshould never have beheld.  Nor should I enjoy those beautiful and\nconvenient apartments which I have built from the ground, with such\na variety of gardens, as required no small time to attain their\npresent degree of perfection.  No! thy nature is to destroy those\nwho follow thee, before they can see their houses or gardens so\nmuch as finished; whereas, I, to thy no small confusion, have\nalready enjoyed mine for a great number of years.  But, since thou\nart so pestilential a vice, as to poison and destroy the whole\nworld; and I am determined to use my utmost endeavours to extirpate\nthee, at least in part; I have resolved to counteract thee so, that\nmy eleven grandchildren shall take pattern after me; and thereby\nexpose thee, for what thou really art, a most wicked, desperate, and\nmortal enemy of the children of men.\n\nI, really, cannot help admiring, that men of fine parts, and such\nthere are, who have attained a superior rank in letters or any\nother profession, should not betake themselves to a regular life,\nwhen they are arrived at the age of fifty or sixty; or as soon as\nthey find themselves attacked by any of the foregoing disorders,\nof which they might easily recover; whereas, by being permitted to\nget a head, they become incurable.  As to young men, I am no way\nsurprised by them, since, the passions being strong at that age,\nthey are of course the more easily overpowered by their baleful\ninfluence.  But after fifty, our lives should, in every thing, be\ngoverned by reason, which teaches us, that the consequences of\ngratifying our palate and our appetite are disease and death.\nWere this pleasure of the palate lasting, it would be some excuse;\nbut it is so momentary, that there is scarce any distinguishing\nbetween the beginning and the end of it; whereas the diseases it\nproduces are very durable.  But it must be a great contentment to a\nman of sober life, to be able to reflect that, in the manner he\nlives, he is sure, that what he eats, will keep him in good health,\nand be productive of no disease or infirmity.\n\nNow I was willing to make this short addition to my treatise,\nfounded on new reasons; few persons caring to peruse long-winded\ndiscourses; whereas short tracts have a chance of being read by\nmany; and I wish that many may see this addition, to the end that\nits utility may be more extensive.\n\n\nAN EARNEST EXHORTATION;\nWHEREIN\nThe author uses the strongest arguments to persuade all men to\nembrace a regular and sober life, in order to attain old age,\nin which they may enjoy all the favours and blessings, that God,\nin his goodness, vouchsafes to bestow upon mortals.\n\n\nNot to be wanting to my duty, that duty incumbent upon every man;\nand not to lose at the same time the satisfaction I feel in being\nuseful to others, I have resolved to take up my pen, and inform\nthose, who, for want of conversing with me, are strangers to what\nthose know and see, with whom I have the pleasure of being\nacquainted.  But, as certain things may appear, to some persons,\nscarce credible, nay impossible, though actually fact, I shall not\nfail to relate them for the benefit of the public.  Wherefore, I\nsay, being (God be praised) arrived at my ninety-fifth year, and\nstill finding myself sound and hearty, content and chearful, I\nnever cease thanking the Divine Majesty for so great a blessing;\nconsidering the usual fate of other old men.  These scarce attain\nthe age of seventy, without losing their health and spirits;\ngrowing melancholy and peevish; and continually haunted by the\nthoughts of death; apprehending their last hour from one day to\nanother, so that it is impossible to drive such thoughts out of\ntheir mind; whereas such things give me not the least uneasiness;\nfor, indeed, I cannot, at all, make them the object of my\nattention, as I shall hereafter more plainly relate.  I shall,\nbesides, demonstrate the certainty I have of living to an hundred.\nBut, to render this dissertation more methodical, I shall begin by\nconsidering man at his birth; and from thence accompany him through\nevery stage of life to his grave.\n\nI, therefore, say, that some come into the world with the stamina\nof life so weak, that they live but a few days, or months, or\nyears; and it cannot be clearly known, to what such shortness of\nlife is owing; whether to some defect in the father or the mother,\nin begetting them; or to the revolutions of the heavens; or to the\ndefect of nature, subject, as she is, to the celestial influence.\nFor, I could never bring myself to believe, that nature, common\nparent of all, should be partial to any of her children.\nTherefore, as we cannot assign causes, we must be content with\nreasoning from the effects, such as they daily appear to our view.\n\nOthers are born sound, indeed, and full of spirits; but,\nnotwithstanding, with a poor weakly constitution; and of these some\nlive to the age of ten; others to twenty; others to thirty or\nforty; yet they do not live to extreme old age.  Others, again,\nbring into the world a perfect constitution, and live to old age;\nbut it is generally, as I have already said, an old age full of\nsickness and sorrow; for which they are to thank themselves; because\nthey most unreasonably presume on the goodness of their\nconstitution;  and cannot by any means be brought to depart, when\nbrought to depart, when grown old, from the mode of life they\npursued in their younger days; as if they still retained all their\nprimitive vigour.  Nay, they intend to live as irregularly when past\nthe meridian of life, as they did all the time of their youth;\nthinking they shall never grow old, nor their constitution ever be\nimpaired.  Neither do they consider, that their stomach has lost its\nnatural heat; and that they should, on that account, pay a greater\nregard to the quality of what they eat, and what wines they drink;\nand likewise to the quantity of each, which they ought to lessen;\nwhereas, on the contrary, they are for increasing it; saying, that,\nas we lose our health and vigour by growing old, we should endeavour\nto repair the loss by increasing the quantity of our food, since it\nis by sustenance that man is preserved.\n\nIn this, nevertheless, they are greatly mistaken, since, as the\nnatural heat lessens as a man grows in years, he should diminish the\nquantity of his meat and drink; nature, especially at that period,\nbeing content with little.  Nay, though they have all the reason to\nbelieve this to be the case, they are so obstinate as to think\notherwise, and still follow their usual disorderly life.  But\nwere they to relinquish it in due time, and betake themselves to\na regular and sober course, they would not grow infirm in their\nold age, but would continue, as I am, strong and hearty, considering\nhow good and perfect a constitution it has pleased the Almighty to\nbestow upon them; and would live to the age of one hundred and\ntwenty.  This has been the case of others, who, as we read in many\nauthors, have lived a sober life, and, of course, were born with\nthis perfect constitution; and had it been my lot to enjoy such\na constitution, I should make no doubt of attaining the same age.\nBut, as I was born with feeble stamina, I am afraid I shall not\noutlive an hundred.  Were others, too, who are also born with an\ninfirm constitution, to betake themselves to a regular life, as I\nhave done, they would attain the age of one hundred and upwards,\nas will be my case.\n\nAnd this certainty of being able to live a great age is, in my\nopinion, a great advantage, and highly to be valued; none being\nsure to live even a single hour, except such as adhere to the\nrules of temperance.  This security of life is built on good and\ntrue natural reasons, which can never fail; it being impossible in\nthe nature of things, that he, who leads a sober and regular life,\nshould breed any sickness, or die of an unnatural death, before\nthe time, at which it is absolutely impossible he should live.  But\nsooner he cannot die, as a sober life has the virtue to remove all\nthe usual causes of sickness, and sickness cannot happen without a\ncause; which cause being removed, sickness is, likewise, removed; and\nsickness being removed, an untimely and violent death must be\nprevented.\n\nAnd there is no doubt, that temperance has the virtue and efficacy\nto remove such causes; for since health and sickness, life and\ndeath, depend on the good or bad quality of the humours, temperance\ncorrects their vicious tendencies, and renders them perfect, being\npossessed of the natural power of making them unite and hold\ntogether, so as to render them inseperable, and incapable of\nalteration and fermenting; circumstances, which engender cruel\nfevers, and end in death.  It is true, indeed, and it would be a\nfolly to deny it, that, let our humours be originally ever so good,\ntime, which consumes every thing, cannot fail to consume and exhaust\nthem; and that man, as soon as that happens, must die of a natural\ndeath; but yet without sickness, as will be my case, who shall die\nat my appointed time, when these humours shall be consumed, which\nthey are not at present. Nay, they are still perfect; nor is it\npossible they should be otherwise in my present condition, when I\nfind myself hearty and content, eating with a good appetite, and\nsleeping soundly.  Moreover, all my faculties are as good as ever,\nand in the highest perfection; my understanding clearer and brighter\nthan ever; my judgment sound; my memory tenacious; my spirits good;\nand my voice, the first thing which is apt to fail in others, grown\nso strong and sonorous, that I cannot help chanting out loud my\nprayers morning and night, instead of whispering and muttering them\nto myself, as was formerly my custom.\n\nAnd these are all so many true and sure signs and tokens, that\nmy humours are good, and cannot waste but with time, as all those,\nwho converse with me, conclude.  O, how glorious this life of mine\nis like to be, replete with all the felicities which man can enjoy\non this side of the grave; and even exempt from that sensual\nbrutality which age has enabled my better reason to banish; because\nwhere reason resides, there is no room for sensuality, nor for its\nbitter fruits, the passions, and perturbations of the mind, with a\ntrain of disagreeable apprehensions.  Nor yet can the thoughts of\ndeath find room in my mind, as I have no sensuality to nourish such\nthoughts.  Neither can the death of grandchildren and other relations\nand friends make any impression on me, but for a moment or two; and\nthen it is over.  Sill less am I liable to be cast down by losses in\npoint of fortune (as many have seen to their no small surprise.)\nAnd this is a happiness not to be expected by any but such as attain\nold age by sobriety, and not in consequence of a strong\nconstitution; and such may moreover expect to spend their days\nhappily, as I do mine, in a perpetual round of amusement and\npleasure.  And how is it possible a man should not enjoy himself,\nwho meets with no crosses or disappointments in his old age, such\nas youth is constantly plagued with, and from which, I shall\npresently shew, I have the happiness of being exempt?\n\nThe first of these is to do service to my country.  O! what a\nglorious amusement, in which I find infinite delight, as I\nthereby shew her the means of improving her important estuary or\nharbour beyond the possibility of its filling for thousands of years\nto come; so as to secure to Venice her surprising and miraculous\ntitle of a maiden city, as she really is; and the only one in the\nwhole world: she will, moreover, thereby, add to the lustre of her\ngreat and excellent surname of queen of the sea: such is my\namusement; and nothing is wanting to make it complete.  Another\namusement of mine, is that of shewing this maid and queen, in what\nmanner she may abound with provisions, by improving large tracts of\nland, as well marshes, as barren sands, to great profit.  A third\namusement, and an amusement too, without any alloy, is the shewing\nhow Venice, though already so strong as to be in a manner\nimpregnable, may be rendered still stronger; and, though extremely\nbeautiful, may still increase in beauty; though rich, may acquire\nmore wealth, and may be made to enjoy better air, though her air is\nexcellent.  These three amusements, all arising from the idea of\npublic utility, I enjoy in the highest degree.  And who can say,\nthat they admit of any alloy, as in fact they do not?  Another\ncomfort I enjoy, is, that having lost a considerable part of my\nincome, of which my grandchildren had been unfortunately robbed, I\nby mere dint of thought, which never sleeps, and without any fatigue\nof body, and very little of mind, have found a true and infallable\nmethod of repairing such loss more than double, by the means of that\nmost commendable of arts, agriculture.  Another comfort I still\nenjoy is to think, that my treatise on temperance, which I wrote in\norder to be useful to others, is really so, as many assure me by\nword of mouth, mentioning that it has proved extremely useful to\nthem, as it in fact appears to have been, whilst others inform me by\nletter, that, under God, they are indebted to me for life.  Still\nanother comfort I enjoy, is that of being able to write with my own\nhand; for, I write enough to be of service to others, both on\narchitecture, and agriculture.  I, likewise, enjoy another\nsatisfaction, which is that of conversing with men of bright parts\nand superior understanding, from whom, even at this advanced period\nof life, I learn something.  What a comfort is this, that, old as I\nam, I should be able, without the least fatigue, to study the most\nimportant, sublime, and difficult subjects!\n\nI must farther add, though it may appear impossible to some, and may\nbe so in some measure, that at this age I enjoy, at once, two lives;\none terrestrial, which I possess in fact; the other celestial, which\nI possess in thought; and this thought is equal to actual enjoyment,\nwhen founded upon things we are sure to attain, as I ams sure to\nattain that celestial life, through the infinite goodness and mercy\nof God.  Thus, I enjoy this terrestrial life, in consequence of my\nsobriety and temperance, virtues so agreeable to the Deity; and I\nenjoy, by the grace of the same Divine Majesty, the celestial, which\nhe makes me anticipate in thought; a thought so lovely, as to fix me\nentirely on this object, the enjoyment of which I hold and affirm to\nbe of the utmost certainty.  And I hold that dying, in the manner I\nexpect, is not really death, but a passage of the soul from this\nearthly life to a celestial, immortal, and infinitely perfect\nexistence.  Neither can it be otherwise: and this thought is so\nsuperlatively sublime, that it can no longer stoop to low and worldly\nobjects, such as the death of this body, being intirely taken up with\nthe happiness of living a celestial and divine life; whence it is,\nthat I enjoy two lives.  Nor can the terminating of so high a\ngratification, which I enjoy in this life, give me any concern; it\nrather affords me infinite pleasure, as it will be only to make room\nfor another, glorious and immortal life.\n\nNow, it is possible, that any one should grow tired of so great a\ncomfort and blessing, as this which I really enjoy; and which every\non else might enjoy by leading the life I have led? an example which\nevery one has it in his power to follow; for I am but a mere man,\nand no saint; a servant of God, to whom so regular a life is\nextremely agreeable.\n\nAnd, whereas many embrace a spiritual and contemplative life, which\nis holy and commendable, the chief employment of those who lead it\nbeing to celebrate the praises of God; O, that the would likewise,\nbetake themselves intirely to a regular and sober life! how much\nmore agreeable would they render themselves in the sight of God!\nWhat a much greater honour and ornament would the be to the world!\nThey would then be considered as saints, indeed, upon earth, as\nthose primitive Christians were led, who joined sobriety to so\nrecluse a life.  By living, like them, to the age of one hundred and\ntwenty, they might, like them, expect, by the power of God, to work\nnumberless miracles; and they would, besides, enjoy constant health\nand spirits, and be always happy within themselves; whereas they are\nnow, for the most part, infirm, melancholy, and dissatisfied.  Now,\nas some of these people think, that these are trials sent them by\nGod Almighty, with a view of promoting their salvation, that they\nmay do penance, in this life, for their past errors, I cannot help\nsaying, that, in my opinion, they are greatly mistaken.  For I can\nby no means believe, that it is agreeable to the Deity, that man,\nhis favourite creature, should live infirm, melancholy, and\ndissatisfied, but rather enjoy good health and spirits, and be\nalways content within himself.  In this manner did the holy\nfathers live, and by such conduct did they daily render themselves\nmore acceptable to the Divine Majesty, so as to work the great and\nsurprising miracles we read in history.  How beautiful, how glorious\na scene should we then behold! far more beautiful than in those\nantient times, because we now abound with so many religious orders\nand monasteries, which did not then exist; and were the members of\nthese communities to lead a temperate life, we should then behold\nsuch a number of venerable old men, as would create surprise.  Nor\nwould they trespass against their rules; they would rather improve\nupon them; since every religious community allows its subjects\nbread, wine, and sometimes eggs (some of them allow meat) besides\nsoups made with vegetables, sallets, fruit, and cakes, things which\noften disagree with them, and even shorten their lives.  But, as\nthey are allowed such things by their rules, they freely make use of\nthem; thinking, perhaps, that it would be wrong to abstain from\nthem, whereas it would not.  It would rather be commendable, if,\nafter the age of thirty, they abstained from such food, confined\nthemselves to bread, wine, broths and eggs: for this is the true\nmethod of preserving men of a bad constitution; and it is a life of\nmore indulgence than that led by the holy fathers of the desart,\nwho subsisted intirely on wild fruits and roots, and drank nothing\nbut pure water; and, nevertheless, lived, as I have already\nmentioned, in good health and spirits, and always happy within\nthemselves.  Were those of our days to do the same, they would,\nlike them, find the road to heaven much easier; for it is always\nopen to every faithful Christian, as our Saviour Jesus Christ left\nit, when he came down upon earth to shed his precious blood, in\norder to deliver us from the tyrannical servitude of the devil; and\nall through his immense goodness.\n\nSo that, to make an end of this discourse, I say, that since length\nof days abounds with so many favours and blessings, and I happen to\nbe one of those who are arrived at that state, I cannot (as I would\nnot willingly want charity) but give testimony in favour of it,\nand solemnly assure all mankind, that I really enjoy a great deal\nmore than what I now mention; and that I have no other reason for\nwriting, but that of demonstrating the great advantages which arise\nfrom longevity, to the end that their own conviction may induce them\nto observe those excellent rules of temperance and sobriety.  And\ntherefore I never cease to raise my voice, crying out to you, my\nfriends: may your days be long, that you may be the better servants\nto the Almighty!\n\n\n\nLETTER\nFROM\nSIGNOR LEWIS CORNARO,\nTO THE\nRIGHT REVEREND BARBARO,\nPATRIARCH ELECT OF AQUILEIA.\n\n\n\nThe human understanding must certainly have something of the divine\nin its constitution and frame.  How divine the invention of\nconversing with an absent friend by the help of writing!  How\ndivinely it is contrived by nature, that men, though at a great\ndistance, should see one another with the intellectual eye, as I now\nsee your lordship!  By means of this contrivance, I shall endeavour\nto entertain you with with matters of the greatest moment.  It is\ntrue, that I shall speak of nothing but what I have already\nmentioned; but it was not at the age of ninety-one, to which I have\nnow attained; a thing I cannot help taking notice of, because as I\nadvance in years, the sounder and heartier I grow, to the amazement\nof all the world.  I, who can account for it, am bound to shew, that\na many may enjoy a terrestrial paradise after eighty; which I enjoy;\nbut it is not to be obtained except by temperance and sobriety,\nvirtues so acceptable to the Almighty, because they are enemies to\nsensuality, and friends to reason.\n\nNow, my lord, to begin, I must tell you, that, within these few days\npast, I have been visited by many of the learned doctors of this\nuniversity, as well physicians and philosophers, who were well\nacquainted with my age, my life, and manners; knowing how stout,\nhearty, and gay I was; and in what perfection all my faculties still\ncontinued; likewise my memory, spirits, and understanding; and even\nmy voice and teeth.  They knew, besides, that I constantly employed\neight hours every day in writing treatises, with my own hand, on\nsubjects useful to mankind, and spent many hours in walking and\nsinging.  O, my lord, how melodious my voice is grown! were you to\nhear me chant my prayers; and that to my lyre, after the example of\nDavid, I am certain it would give you great pleasure, my voice is so\nmusical.  Now, when they told me that they had been already\nacquainted with all these particulars, they added, that it was,\nindeed, next to a miracle, how I could write so much, and upon\nsubjects that required both judgement and spirit.  And, indeed, my\nlord, it is incredible, what satisfaction and pleasure I have in\nthese compositions.  But, as I write to be useful, your lordship may\neasily conceive what pleasure I enjoy.  They concluded by telling me,\nthat I ought not to be looked upon as a person advanced in years,\nsince all my occupations were those of a young man; and, by no means,\nlike those of other aged persons, who, when they have reached eighty,\nare reckoned decrepid.  Such, moreover, are subject, some to the\ngout, some to the sciatica, and some to other complaints, to be\nrelieved from which they must undergo such a number of painful\noperations, as cannot but render life extremely disagreeable.  And,\nif, by chance, one of them happens to escape a long illness, his\nfaculties are impaired, and he cannot see or hear so well; or else\nfails in some or other of the corporeal faculties, he cannot walk,\nor his hands shake; and, supposing him exempt from these bodily\ninfirmities, his memory, his spirits, or his understanding fail him;\nhe is not chearful, pleasant, and happy within himself, as I am.\n\nBesides all these blessings, I mentioned another, which I enjoyed;\nand so great a blessing, that they were all amazed at it, since it\nis altogether beside the usual course of nature.  This blessing is,\nthat I had already lived fifty years, in spite of a most powerful\nand mortal enemy, which I can by no means conquer, because it is\nnatural, or an occult quality implanted in my body by nature; and\nthis is, that every year, from the beginning of July till the end\nof August, I cannot drink any wine of whatever kind or country; for,\nbesides being during these two months quite disgustful to my palate,\nit disagrees with my stomach.  Thus losing my milk, for wine is,\nindeed, the milk of old age; and having nothing to drink, for no\nchange or preparation of waters can have the virtue of wine, nor of\ncourse do me any good; having nothing, I say, to drink, and my\nstomach being therefore disordered, I can eat but very little; and\nthis spare diet, with the want of wine, reduces me, by the middle of\nAugust, extremely low; nor is the strongest capon broth, or any other\nremedy, of service to me; so that I am ready, through mere weakness,\nto sink into the grave.  Hence they inferred, that were not the new\nwine, for I always take care to have some ready by the beginning of\nSeptember, to come in so soon, I should be a dead man.  But what\nsurprized them still more was, that this new wine should have power\nsufficient to restore me, in two or three days, to that degree of\nhealth and strength, of which the old wine had robbed me; a fact,\nthey themselves have been eye-witnesses of, within these few days;\nand which a man must see to believe it; insomuch that they could not\nhelp crying out; \"Many of us, who are physicians, have visited him\nannually for several years past; and ten years ago, judged it\nimpossible for him to live a year or two longer, considering what a\nmortal enemy he carried about him, and his advanced age; yet we do\nnot find him so weak at present as he used to be.\"  This\nsingularity, and the many other blessings they see me enjoy, obliged\nthem to confess, that the joining of such a number of favours was,\nwith regard to me, a special grace conferred on me, at my birth, by\nnature, or by the stars; and to prove this to be a good conclusion,\nwhich it really is not (because not grounded on strong and\nsufficient reasons, but merely on their own opinions) they found\nthemselves under a necessity to display their eloquence, and to say\na great many fine things.  Certain it is, my lord, that eloquence,\nin men of bright parts, has great power; so great, as to induce\npeople to believe things which have neither actual nor possible\nexistence.  I had, however, great pleasure and satisfaction in\nhearing them; for, it must, no doubt, be a high entertainment to\nhear such men talk in that manner.\n\nAnother satisfaction, without the least mixture of alloy, I at the\nsame time enjoyed, was to think, that age and experience are\nsufficient to make a man learned, who without them would know\nnothing; nor is it surprizing they should, since length of days is\nthe foundation of true knowledge.  Accordingly, it was by means of\nit alone I discovered their conclusion to be false.  Thus, you see,\nmy lord, how apt men are to deceive themselves in their judgement of\nthings, when such judgement is not built upon a solid foundation.\nAnd, therefore, to undeceive them, and set them right, I made answer,\nthat their conclusion was false, as I should actually convince them\nby proving, that the happiness I enjoyed was not confined to me, but\ncommon to all mankind, and that every man might equally enjoy it;\nsince I was but a mere mortal, composed, like all others, of the\nfour elements; and endued, besides existence and life, with rational\nand intellectual faculties, which are common to all men.  For it has\npleased the Almighty to bestow on his favourite creature man these\nextraordinary blessings and favours above other animals, which\nenjoy only the sensible perceptions; in order such blessings and\nfavours my be the means of keeping him long in good health; so that\nlength of days is a universal favour granted by the Deity, and not\nby nature and the stars.\n\nBut man being in his youthful days more of the sensual, than of the\nrational animal, is apt to yield to sensual impressions; and, when\nhe afterwards arrives at the age of forty or fifty, he ought to\nconsider, that he has attained the noon of life, by the vigour of\nhis youth, and a good tone of stomach; natural blessings, which\nfavoured him in ascending the hill; but that he must now think of\ngoing down, and approaching the grave, with a heavy weight of years\non his back; and that old age is the reverse of youth, as much as\norder is the reverse of disorder.  Hence it is requisite he should\nalter his mode of life in regard to the articles of eating and\ndrinking, on which health and longevity depend.  And as the first\npart of his life was sensual and irregular, the second should be\nthe reverse; since nothing can subsist without order, especially the\nlife of man, irregularity being without all doubt prejudicial, and\nregularity advantageous to the human species.\n\nBesides, it is impossible in the nature of things, that the man, who\nis bent on indulging his palate and his appetite, should not be\nguilty of irregularity.  Hence it was that to avoid this vice, as\nsoon as I found myself arrived at maturer years, I embraced a regular\nand sober life.  It is, no doubt, true, that I found some difficulty\nin compassing it; but, in order to conquer this difficulty, I\nbeseeched the Almighty to grant me the virtue of sobriety; well\nknowing, that he would graciously hear my prayer.  Then, considering,\nthat when a man is about to undertake any thing of importance, which\nhe knows he can compass, though not without difficulty, he may make\nit much easier to himself by being steady in his purpose; I pursued\nthe same course.  I endeavoured gradually to relinquish a disorderly\nlife, and to accustom myself insensibly to the rules of temperance:\nand thus it came to pass that a sober and regular life no longer\nproved uneasy or disagreeable; though, on account of the weakness of\nmy constitution, I tied myself down to such strict rules in regard\nto the quantity and quality of what I eat and drink.\n\nBut others, who happen to be blessed with a stronger temperament,\nmay eat many other kinds of food, and in greater quantities; and so\nof wines; whereas, though their lives may still be sober, they will\nnot be so confined as mine, but much more free.  Now, on hearing\nthese arguments, and examining the reasons on which they were\nfounded, they all agreed that I had advanced nothing but what was\ntrue.  Indeed the youngest of them said, that though he could not\nbut allow the favour of advantages, I had been speaking of, to be\ncommon to all mankind, yet I enjoyed the special grace of being\nable to relinquish with ease one kind of life, and embrace another;\na think which he knew by experience to be feasible; but as difficult\nto him as it had proved easy to me.\n\nTo this I replied, that, being a mortal like himself, I likewise\nfound it a difficult task; but it did not become a person to shrink\nfrom a glorious but practicable undertaking, on account of the\ndifficulties attending it, because in proportion to these\ndifficulties, is the honour he acquires by it in the eye of man, and\nthe merit in the sight of God.  Our beneficent Creator is desirous,\nthat, as he originally favoured human nature with longevity, we\nshould all enjoy full advantage of his intentions; knowing, that,\nwhen a man has passed eighty, he is intirely exempt from the bitter\nfruits of sensual enjoyments, and is intirely governed by the\ndictates of reason.  Vice and immorality must then leave him; hence\nGod is willing he should live to a full maturity of years; and has\nordained that whoever reaches his natural term, should end his days\nwithout sickness by mere dissolution, the natural way of quitting\nthis mortal life to enter upon immortality, as will be my case.  For\nI am sure to die chanting my prayers; nor do the dreadful thoughts\nof death give me the least uneasiness, though, considering my great\nage, it cannot be far distant, knowing, as I do, that I was born to\ndie, and reflecting that such numbers have departed my life without\nreaching my age.\n\nNor does that other thought, inseperable from the former, namely the\nfear of those torments, to which wicked men are hereafter liable,\ngive me any uneasiness; because I am a good Christian, and bound to\nbelieve, that I shall be saved by the virtue of the most sacred\nblood of Christ, which he has vouchsafed to shed, in order to free\nus from those torments.  How beautiful is the life I lead! how happy\nmy end!  To this, the young gentleman, my antagonist, had nothing to\nreply, but that he was resolved to embrace a sober life, in order to\nfollow my example; and that he had taken another, more important,\nresolution, which was, that, as he had been always very desirous to\nlive to be old, so he was now equally impatient to reach that period,\nthe sooner to enjoy the felicity of old age.\n\nThe great desire I had, my lord, to converse with you at this\ndistance, has forced me to be prolix, and still obliges me to\nproceed; though not much farther.  There are many sensualists, my\nlord, who say, that I have thrown away my time and trouble in writing\na treatise on Temperance, and other discourses on the same subject,\nto induce men to lead a regular life; alledging, that it is\nimpossible to conform to it, so that my treatise must answer as\nlittle purpose as that of Plato on government, who took a great deal\nof pains to recommend a thing impracticable; whence they inferred,\nthat as his treatise was of no use, mine will share the same fate.\nNow this surprises me the more, as they may see by my treatise, that\nI had led a sober life for many years before I had composed it; and\nthat I should never have composed it, had I not previously been\nconvinced, that it was such a life as a man might lead; and being\na virtuous life, would be of great service to him; so that I thought\nmyself under an obligation to represent it in a true light.  I have\nthe satisfaction now to hear, that numbers, on seeing my treatise,\nhave embraced such a life; and I have read, that many, in times past,\nhave actually led it; so that the objection, to which Plato's\ntreatise on government is liable, can be of no force against mine.\nBut such sensualists, enemies to reason, and slaves to their\npassions, ought to think themselves well off, if, whilst they study\nto indulge their palate and their appetite, they do not contract\nlong and painful diseases, and are not, many of them, overtaken by\nan untimely death.\n\n\nFINIS","title":"Discourses on a Sober and Temperate Life: Wherein Is Demonstrated, by His Own Example, the Method of Preserving Health to Extreme Old Age","tradition":"philosophy-ethics","translated_text":null,"word_count":20737}