Let The Progress Of The Meal Be

The Dyspeptic And The Drunkard Do Not Know How To Eat Or Drink.

Gastronomers Of The Year 1825, Who Find Sateity In The Lap Of Abundance, And Dream Of Some Newly-made Dishes, You Will Not Enjoy The Discoveries Which Science Has In Store For The Year 1900, Such As Foods Drawn From The Mineral Kingdom, Liqueurs Produced By The Pressure Of A Hundred Atmospheres; You Will Never See The Importations Which Travelers Yet Unborn Will Bring To You From That Half Of The Globe Which Has Still To Be Discovered Or Explored. How I Pity You!

Place A Substantial Meal Before A Tired Man And He Will Eat With Effort And Be Little Better For It At First. Give Him A Glass Of Wine Or Brandy, And Immediately He Feels Better: You See Him Come To Life Again Before You.

Salad Freshens Without Enfeebling And Fortifies Without Irritating.

The Pleasure Of The Table Belongs To All Ages, To All Conditions, To All Countries, And To All Areas; It Mingles With All Other Pleasures, And Remains At Last To Console Us For Their Departure.