Happy Life at a Tavern

 

We dined at an excellent inn at Chapelhouse(2), where Dr. Johnson expatiated on the felicity of England in its taverns and inns, and triumphed over(3) the French for not having, in any perfection, the tavern life. "There is no private house," said he, "in which people can enjoy themselves so well as at a capital tavern. Let there be ever so great plenty of good things(4), ever so much grandeur, ever so much elegance, ever so much desire that everybody should be easy, in the nature of things(5) it cannot be: there must always be some degree of care and anxiety. The master of the house is anxious to entertain his guests; the guests are anxious to be agreeable to him; and no man but a very impudent dog(6) indeed can as freely command what is in another's house as if it were his own(7). Whereas at a tavern there is a general freedom from anxiety. You are sure you are welcome; the more noise you make, the more trouble you give, the more good things you call for, the welcomer you are. No servants(8) will attend you with the alacrity which waiters(9) do, who are excited with the prospect of an immediate reward(10) in proportion as(11) they please. No, sir; there is nothing which has as yet been contrived by man, by which so much happiness is produced as by a good tavern or inn.