Catch him between whiles off his guard and you will find the deadening lassitude of his life.

This votary of pleasure has a burden to carry in whatever walk of life, high or low.

On the higher plane he may have a more fastidious club or two, a more epicurean sense of enjoyment, more leisure and more luxury; but the type wherever found is the same.

Life is an utter burden to him; in his soul is no interest, no inspiration, no energy, and no hope.

Let him be no object of envy.