and fruit. We ate sparingly whenever we felt inclined. We never drank when we ate, but took a little fruit instead. About a couple of hours after a meal, if we felt at all thirsty, we took a little water at the first post-house we came to. By this plan the motion of the carriage did not at all disturb digestion; and notwithstanding the time of year we were entirely without fever or feverishness. We arrived at Paris perfectly fresh, and after taking a warm bath, supped in the Palais Royal. I afterwards walked on the Boulevards till past midnight, and rose the next morning at six, in as composed a state as I ever was in my life.

When we left England in the preceding November, my companion felt heated and much inconvenienced by travelling, even so late as ten at night, and we were obliged to remain three days at Lyons to give him time to recover. Between Stutgard and Paris he enjoyed perfect composure, and on our arrival I observed that, notwithstanding he wore a pair of tight boots all the way, his ancles were not in the least affected with swelling; whereas the courier, who did not understand passing through Champagne without tasting the wine, though he was comfortably seated behind the carriage, had his legs so much swelled, that he had some difficulty in getting up stairs. By the same course I believe I could travel indefinitely as to time, not only without inconvenience, but in high health.

The precaution of drinking little, and particularly at a sufficient interval after eating, I take to be essential. I also think it very beneficial to have the opportunity of taking food in moderation as soon as it is desired, by which the irritation of fasting too long is avoided, and the stomach is kept in perpetual good humour. The plan of eating and drinking beforehand, instead of carrying provisions in the carriage, is a very pernicious one, as the food becomes corrupted before it is wanted, and in the mean time produces the uncomforts of fermen tation. I shall in my next number continue the subject of diet.

MOBS.

I hate all mobs and tumultuary assemblies, on one side or the other. They are the senseless instruments of party; the clumsy machinery by which imperfect government is carried on, or opposed, by imperfect politicians. They are in their very nature unlawful and unconstitutional, directly at variance with our free institutions, which are as much opposed to anarchy as to despotism. They are alternately encouraged from interest, or tolerated from fear. The following extract from a letter from Dr. Priestly to the people of Birmingham, after the riots in 1791, is strongly illustrative of what the mob spirit is capable; and that the progress of civilisation has been able in no degree to assuage that spirit, Nottingham, Derby, and Bristol, afford indisputable proofs in recent times. The Birmingham mob was on the Tory, the others on the Whig side.

"You have destroyed the most truly valuable and useful apparatus of philosophical instruments that perhaps any individual, in this or any other country, was ever possessed of, in my use of which I annually spent large sums, with no pecuniary view whatever, but only in the advancement of science, for the benefit of my country and of mankind. You have destroyed a library corresponding to that apparatus, which no money can re-purchase, except in a long course of time. But what I feel far more, you have destroyed manuscripts, which have been the result of the laborious study of many years, and which I shall never be able to recompose; and this has been done to one who never did, or imagined you any harm."

MY MOTHER.

In the article on the art of attaining high health, in my fourth number, I had occasion shortly to mention my mother. She was indeed in many particulars an example for her sex

an example too valuable to be altogether lost. I will sketch for study one or two of the agreeable features in her character. When I was living alone with her, as already stated, I used occasionally to go out to dinner in the neighbourhood, and afterwards to walk home late, sometimes very late. By the way, I will remark, that I have never felt my mind so vigorous, as frequently when walking home in the country after a dinner party. The excitement of company and good cheer, heightened by exercise in the refreshing cool of the night, produces an effect on the spirits, according to my experience, unequalled at any other time; and it seems to be something the same with horses, which never go with such alacrity as when returning home after a good feed, and in company, at night. But to resume;—at whatever hour I arrived, I always found my mother sitting up for me alone. Not a word of reproach-not a question. If it happened to be cold or damp, I was greeted with a cheerful fire, by which she had been sitting, reading or netting, as her eyes would permit, and with a colour on her cheek, at seventy, which would have done no discredit to a girl of eighteen. She had always the supper-tray ready, but not brought in, so as neither to tempt me if I did not want any thing, nor to disappoint me, if I did. When a man throws himself into a chair, after the fatigues of the day, he generally feels for a period a strong propensity to silence, any interruption of which has rather a tendency to irritate. I observed that my mother had always great tact in discovering the first symptoms of revival, till which she would quietly go on with her own occupation, and then inquire if I had had an agreeable party, and put such questions as showed a gratifying interest, equally removed from worrying curiosity and disheartening indifference. I recommend the same course generally to female consideration and adoption. If, from any engagement, I wished to breakfast earlier than usual-however early, she was always ready, and without taking any credit for her readiness. If I was down before the hour, I

was almost sure to find her seated at table; or, if the morning was fine, walking composedly before the windows, with breakfast prepared. If I desired to have a particular dinner, it was served up just as I asked for it-no alteration-no additional dish, with the very unphilosophical remark,—“ You have no occasion to eat it unless you like." She seemed to be aware that needless variety causes a distraction destructive of perfect contentment, and that temptation resisted, as well as temptation yielded to, produces, though in an inferior degree, digestive derangement. I will mention only one other trait, and that is, that though she was unremitting in her care and attention when any of her family were ill, yet her own indispositions she always concealed as long as she could,—for it seemed to give her pain to be the cause of the least interruption to the pleasure of those she loved.

GOOD FEELING.

Soon after the battle of Waterloo, when so many maimed and wounded officers were to be seen in the streets, a gentleman passing along Bond Street, was somewhat forcibly pushed against the wall by a porter. In the irritation of the moment he raised a small cane he had in his hand, and gave the porter a smart cut across the shoulders. The man instantly turned round and threw himself into an attitude of attack; but perceiving his adversary had recently lost his right arm, he took off his hat, and without saying a word, passed on his

way.

'SAYINGS.

Many people have a great horror of the purse-proud. I cannot say that I have; for I am always perfectly at my ease

with them. It is the purse-empty that I dread. “Poverty is no crime," is a common saying in the mouths of the indolent and the improvident; nine times out of ten, I believe, it approaches very near. But poverty proper is a disease nearly worn out in this country, and its place is supplied by pauperism, or the spirit of dependence, on which I have remarked in a former publication. "Of all taxes upon means—of all clogs to self-advancement-of all drawbacks upon enjoyment, assuredly the dependence of those who ought to depend upon themselves, is the heaviest and most irksome. No station in life is too high-none too low-to escape this scourge. The peer of princely fortune, the frugal tradesman, and the industrious labourer, each in his degree, is haunted, threatened, importuned, and preyed upon. To avoid this fate, how many are afraid to accumulate! how many give up in despair!-how many, seeing ruin inevitable, prefer to ruin themselves, and plunge into that state it would have been the labour of their lives to avoid!" The most accurate description of English poverty I ever heard was from a beggar-boy in Italy, who accosted me at the door of a post-house, whilst I was waiting for horses. He made some observation, which led me to ask him if he thought there were no poor in England: to which he replied, "Oh! yes, yes; but in England they are all rich poor-in Italy we are poor poor."

Complaining of adverse fortune, keeps fortune adverse. A happy disposition to improve opportunities, sooner or later, I believe, never fails of success.

True courage is that which is not afraid of being thought afraid; the rest is counterfeit.-Such for the most part is duelling courage.

LONDON:

IBOTSON AND PALMER, PRINTERS, SAVOY STREET, STRAND.