Life & Wisdom Quote by Robert Burton

“A good conscience is a continual feast” sells morality the way a savvy host sells dinner: not as duty, but as appetite. Burton’s line is deliciously pragmatic. He doesn’t threaten hell or promise sainthood; he advertises an internal lifestyle upgrade. Conscience becomes a pantry that never runs empty, a private surplus you can draw on in the boring hours and the panicked ones.

The intent is almost clinical. Burton, writing in an age obsessed with the body’s humors and the mind’s ailments, frames ethics as a kind of mental nutrition. Guilt is starvation and indigestion; integrity is steady nourishment. That’s why the metaphor lands: “feast” isn’t mere comfort food. It implies abundance, ease, and sociability-the pleasure of being at home in yourself, with no locked doors in the mind.

The subtext is also a quiet jab at status culture. Early modern England was thick with display: patronage, public reputation, religious performance. Burton flips the prestige economy inward. You can be poor, overlooked, politically powerless-and still dine well if your inner ledger is clean. At the same time, he hints at the opposite: no amount of money or applause can fully anesthetize a bad conscience. You can throw banquets and still taste ash.

Context matters. Burton’s world was a tinderbox of theological anxiety and civic surveillance; people were trained to audit their souls. The line offers a stabilizing counterspell: stop chasing external proof of righteousness and cultivate the one thing that can’t be confiscated. A conscience at peace is a form of wealth that doesn’t fluctuate with the market, the court, or the crowd.