or proper food would have produced, which must have been through the same organ. The second instance is what I have several times observed in my own person. When I have had any local inflammation from hurts, however remotely situated, what has affected my digestion has at the same moment affected the inflammation. Fasting too long, eating too soon, taking too much wine, or having my spirits lowered, have instantly been unpleasantly perceptible in the seat of the inflammation; whilst taking food or wine when wanted, or having my spirits raised, have produced the direct contrary effect. How this is effected anatomically, I leave to the scientific to explain. I only know it from observation; but I do know it, and how to profit by it, and I tell it to my readers that they may profit by it too, which brings me to a repetition of my rule-Content the stomach, and the stomach will content you.

To the caution I gave against stooping after meals, I should add that it is particularly to be avoided with anything tight round the body, and the same may be said of all the actions I have enumerated. They are all pernicious in proportion as the meal has been full or rich. Anything greasy or strong, especially the skin of the fat of roast meat, when disturbed by exertion, will produce the most disagreeable effects, or perhaps bring on a regular bilious attack. Packing up, preparatory to a long journey by a public vehicle, used often to be a cause of serious inconvenience to my health from my mode of doing it. First of all laying in a hearty meal, because I had a great distance to go, the very reason why I ought to have been abstemious: then having to finish packing after eating, with more things than room for them, the hurry, vexation, and exertion of arranging which, together with the fear of being too late, and bustling off, caused such a fermentation as not only made my journey most uncomfortable, but made me generally out of sorts for some time after. When I had brought myself into a regular state of health, and took care always to be beforehand with my arrangements, eating sparingly, and setting off composedly, I found an immense difference, particularly in the absence of any feeling of being cramped in my limbs, which feeling was always annoying in proportion to my improper living. I find my supplementary observations have extended so much further than I contemplated, that I must defer commencing the subject of diet till next week ; but I was unwilling to omit any details which might be useful, though at the risk of being on some points too minute.

DOCTOR GREGORY'S DESCRIPTION OF HEALTH. What I have said in preceding numbers respecting the state of health I once attained is not, I find, easily credited by those who have not had similar experience. I subjoin a passage from high professional authority-that of Dr. James Gregory, late Professor of Medicine in Edinburgh-confirmatory of my positions; and those who will take the trouble to make the comparison will find how fully I am borne out. The passage was pointed out to me many years since by a physician, and I extracted it at the time, but had forgotten its contents till I had the curiosity to refer to it the other day, and I now give an abbreviated translation from the original Latin. I believe it is principally taken from Celsus. My most staggering assertion I take to be this: "It seems that from the surface of an animal in perfect health there is an active exhalation going on which repels impurity; for when I walked on the dustiest roads not only my feet, but even my stockings, remained free from dust." Dr. Gregory says of a person in high health-" the exhalation from the skin is free and constant, but without amounting to perspiration," exhalatio per cutem libera et constans, citra vero sudorem, which answers with remarkable precision to " my active exhalation," and the repulsion of impurity is a necessary consequence. In fact, it is perspiration so active as to fly from the skin, instead of remaining upon it, or suffering anything else to remain; just as we see an animal in high health roll in the mire, and directly after appear as clean as if it had been washed. I enter into these particulars, not to justify myself, but to gain the confidence of my readers, not only on this particular subject, but generallymore especially as I shall have frequent occasion to advance things out of the common way, though in the way of truth. I have before remarked that well-grounded faith has great virtue in other things besides religion. The want of it is an insuperable bar to improvement in things temporal, as well as in things spiritual, and is the reverse of St. Paul's "rejoiceth in the truth, believeth all things, hopeth all things;" for it believes nothing and hopes nothing. It is the rule of an unfortunate sect of sceptics in excellence, who, at the mention of anything sound, look wonderfully wise, and shake their heads, and smile inwardly -infallible symptoms of a hopeless condition of half-knowledge and self-conceit. But to return to the passage, which is as follows::

“When a man is in perfect health his mind is not only equal to the ordinary occasions of life, but is able easily to accommodate itself to all sorts of situations and pursuits; his perception,

understanding, and memory are correct, clear, and retentive; he is firm and composed, whether in a grave or a lively humour-is always himself, and never the sport of inordinate affections or external accidents; he commands his passions instead of obeying them; he enjoys prosperity with moderation, and adversity with fortitude, and is roused, not overwhelmed, by extraordinary emergencies. These are not only the signs of a healthy mind, but of a healthy body also: and indeed they do not a little contribute to health of body; for as long as the mind is shut up within it, they will mutually and much affect each other.

:

"The muscles are full and firm, the skin soft, almost moist, and never dry; the colour, especially of the face, fresh and constant, and, whether fair or dark, never approaching to pale or yellow; the countenance animated and cheerful; the eyes bright and lively the teeth sound and strong; the step firm; the limbs well supporting the body; the carriage erect; every sort of exercise easy; and labour, though long and hard, borne without inconvenience; all the organs of sense acute, neither torpid nor too sensitive; sleep light and long, not easily disturbed, refreshing, and either without dreams, or at least without unpleasant ones, steeping the senses in sweet forgetfulness, or filling the mind with pleasant images. Other signs of a healthy body are the temperate circulation of the blood, the pulse strong, full, soft, equal, neither too quick nor too slow, nor easily raised beyond the ordinary rate; the respiration full, easy, slow, scarcely apparent, and not much accelerated by exercise; the voice strong and sonorous, and in men deep, not easily made hoarse; the breath sweet, at least without anything to the contrary; the mouth moist; the tongue bright, and not too red; the appetite strong, and requiring no stimulants; the thirst moderate; the digestion of all sorts of food easy, without any fermentation or sensation of oppression; and the exhalation from the skin free and constant, but without amounting to perspiration, except from the concurrence of strong causes."

There is one very important conclusion to be drawn from the above description, and that is, that a high state of health is a high moral state, which is the reverse of what would be generally supposed. Dr. Gregory says that a man in perfect health is not the sport of inordinate affections, and that he commands his passions, instead of obeying them, which means that there is no physical excess to make the affections and passions unruly, but that, like temperate gales, they waft him on his course, instead of driving him out of it. What is generally called high health is a pampered state, the result of luxurious or excessive feeding, accompanied by hard or exciting exercise, and such a state is

ever on the borders of disease. It is rather the madness or intoxication of health, than health itself, and it has a tincture of many of the dangerous qualities of madness and intoxication.

TWO GOOD DISHES.

As the fruit season is at hand, I give a receipt for preparing it, which I think ought to be much more common than it is. From the failures I have seen, I suppose it requires some skill and attention; but, when well managed, it furnishes a dish tempting in appearance, very agreeable to the palate, and much more wholesome than fruit with pastry. It is excellent for luncheon, or for supper, when any is wanted, and is very grateful, cold, in hot weather. It applies to every kind of fruit that is made into tarts, and is particularly good with ripe peaches or apricots, and with green gage or magnum bonum plums.

Wash a sufficient quantity of rice; put a little water to it, and set it in the oven till the water is absorbed. Then put in a little milk, work it well with a spoon, set it in the oven again, and keep working it from time to time till it is sufficiently soft. A little cream worked in at the last is an improvement. Fill a tart dish nearly full of fruit, sweeten it, and lay on the rice unevenly by spoonfuls. Bake it till the rice has a light brown or fawn colour on the surface.

Another receipt also applicable to the season, and, in my opinion, of great merit, is the following:

Put a few beets, a little onion, one lettuce, and a cucumber sliced into a stew-pan, with a little water, and a proper quantity of butter, and pepper, and salt. Set the pan in the oven, and when the vegetables have been stewed some time put a quantity of boiled peas and some meat into the pan, and let the whole stew till the meat is ready to serve up. Lay the vegetables on the dish round the meat. Mutton, lamb, and veal are excellent dressed in this manner; and it is a very good way of using up cold meat.

It is true, this dish is by no means suited to make its appearance in state exhibitions, but that, in my mind, is no objection. I like the familiar and satisfactory style both of cooking and of eating, with the dish actually before me on mensâ firmâ, the solid table—not a kickshaw poked from behind, and dancing in the air between me and my lady neighbour's most inconvenient sleeve, without time to think whether I like what is offered, or whether I want it or not. This is all exceedingly polite according to present notions; but I rather prefer something of the Miltonic mode,

Where Corydon and Thyrsis met,
Are at their savoury dinner set
Of herbs, and other country messes,
Which the neat-handed Phillis dresses;

or Dryden's style, as paraphrased from Horace,

Sometimes 'tis grateful to the rich to try
A short vicissitude, and fit of poverty.
A savoury dish, a homely treat,
Where all is plain, where all is neat,
Without the stately spacious room,

The Persian carpet, or the Tyrian loom,

Clear up the cloudy foreheads of the great.

It is pity one never sees luxuries and simplicity go together, and that people cannot understand that woodcocks and champagne are just as simple as fried bacon and small beer, or a haunch of venison as a leg of mutton; but with delicacies there is always so much alloy as to take away the true relish.

CHARACTER THE BEST SECURITY.

"I owe my success in business chiefly to you," said a stationer to a paper-maker, as they were settling a large account; "but let me ask how a man of your caution came to give credit so freely to a beginner with my slender means ?" "Because," replied the paper-maker, "at whatever hour in the morning I passed to my business, I always observed you without your coat at yours." I knew both parties. Different men will have different degrees of success, and every man must expect to experience ebbs and flows; but I fully believe that no one in this country, of whatever condition, who is really attentive, and, what is of great importance, who lets it appear that he is so, can fail in the long-run. Pretence is ever bad; but there are many who obscure their good qualities by a certain carelessness, or even an affected indifference, which deprives them of the advantages they would otherwise infallibly reap, and then they complain of the injustice of the world. The man who conceals or disguises his merit, and yet expects to have credit for it, might as well expect to be thought clean in his person, if he chose to go covered with filthy rags. The world will not, and cannot in great measure, judge but by appearances, and worth must stamp itself, if it hopes to pass current even against baser metal.

A FRENCHMAN'S IDEA OF AN ENGLISH DINNER.

How difficult it is for those not "to the manner born" to acquire accurate ideas of the ways of their fellow men! A