ion _requires_ a vigorous constitution, even though there may
be much illness, as in such cases as William III. and our brave General
Napier. Of men of thought, it can scarcely be true that they eat so
much, in a general way, though even they eat more than they are apt to
suppose they do; for, as Mr. Lewes observes, "nerve-tissue is very
expensive." Leaving great men of all kinds, however, to get their own
dinners, let us, who are not great, look after ours. Dine we must, and
we may as well dine elegantly as well as wholesomely.

1883. There are plenty of elegant dinners in modern days, and they were
not wanting in ancient times. It is well known that the dinner-party, or
symposium, was a not unimportant, and not unpoetical, feature in the
life of the sociable, talkative, tasteful Greek. Douglas Jerrold said
that such is the British humour for dining and giving of dinners, that
if London were to be destroyed by an earthquake, the Londoners would
meet at a public dinner to consider the subject. The Greeks, too, were
great diners: their social and religious polity gave them many chances
of being merry and making others merry on good eating and drinking. Any
public or even domestic sacrifice to one of the gods, was sure to be
followed by a dinner-party, the remains of the slaughtered "offering"
being served up on the occasion as a pious _piece de resistance;_ and as
the different gods, goddesses, and demigods, worshipped by the community
in general, or by individuals, were very numerous indeed, and some very
religious people never let a day pass without offering up something or
other, the dinner-parties were countless. A birthday, too, was an excuse
for a dinner; a birthday, that is, of any person long dead and buried,
as well as of a living person, being a member of the family, or
otherwise esteemed. Dinners were, of course, eaten on all occasions of
public rejoicing. Then, among the young people, subscription dinners,
very much after the manner of modern times, were always being got up;
only that they would be eaten not at an hotel, but probably at the house
of one of the _heterae_. A Greek dinner-party was a handsome,
well-regulated affair. The guests came in elegantly dressed and crowned
with flowers. A slave, approaching each person as he entered, took off
his sandals and washed his feet. During the repast, the guests reclined
on couches with pillows, among and along which were set small tables.
After the solid meal ca