says the comfortable shopkeeper; and all suppose they are following nature; but sooner or later the offended goddess sends her avenging ministers in the shade of vapours, gout, or dropsy.

Having long gone wrong, you must get right by degrees; there is no summary process. Medicine may assist, or give temporary relief; but you have a habit to alter—a tendency to change-from a tendency to being ill to a tendency to being well. First study to acquire a composure of mind and body. Avoid agitation or hurry of one or the other, especially just before and after meals, and whilst the process of digestion is going on. To this end, govern your temper— endeavour to look at the bright side of things-keep down as much as possible the unruly passions-discard envy, hatred, and malice, and lay your head upon your pillow in charity with all mankind. Let not your wants outrun your means. Whatever difficulties you have to encounter, be not perplexed, but think only what it is right to do in the sight of Him who seeth all things, and bear without repining the result. When your meals are solitary, let your thoughts be cheerful; when they are social, which is better, avoid disputes, or serious argument, or unpleasant topics. "Unquiet meals," says Shakspeare, "make ill digestions ;" and the contrary is produced by easy conversation, a pleasant project, welcome news, or a lively companion. I advise wives not to entertain their husbands with domestic grievances about children or servants, nor to ask for money, nor produce unpaid bills, nor propound unseasonable or provoking questions; and I advise husbands to keep the cares and vexations of the world to themselves, but to be communicative of whatever is comfortable, and cheerful, and amusing.

With respect to composure of body, it is highly expedient not to be heated by exercise, either when beginning a meal, or immediately after one. In both cases fermentation precedes digestion, and the food, taken into the stomach, becomes more

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or less corrupted. I will mention two strong instances. pig in high health was driven violently just after a full meal; it dropped down dead, and at the desire of some labourers, who thought it was too good to be lost, a butcher forthwith proceeded to dress it. When the hair was scalded off, the skin presented in some places a somewhat livid hue, and when the stomach was opened, the contents were so extremely offensive, that all present, of whom I was one, were obliged to fly, and the carcass almost immediately became a mass of putridity. The second case was that of a man in the service of a relation of mine, who after a harvest supper and a hot day's labour, was thrown in a wrestling match, by which he instantly died, and decomposition took place so rapidly, that it was with difficulty his body within four-and-twenty hours could be placed in a coffin. Whilst I was subject to the affection of the trachea before mentioned, I frequently brought on the most distressing attacks, and sometimes instantaneously, by heating myself just before or after meals. Even dressing in a hurry ought to be avoided previously to a meal, and I should advise all, especially invalids, to be ready a little before-hand, as the mind is also often in a state of hurry prejudicial to digestion. After meals, stooping, leaning against the chest, going quick up stairs, opening or shutting a tight drawer, pulling off boots, packing up, or even any single contortion or forced position of the body, has each a tendency to cause fermentation, and thereby produce bile, heart-burn, difficulty of breathing, and other derangements. I have often experienced ill effects from washing my feet at night instead of in the morning, fasting, which is decidedly the safest time. Of course persons in high health may allow themselves liberties, but those who are at all liable to indigestion, cannot be too observant of even their most trifling actions. In my next number I shall take up the subject of diet.

COURTEOUS FORBEARANCE.

A gentleman, making a morning call upon a late county member of great taste and scrupulous courtesy, was accompanied into the library by a beautiful kid, which he found standing at the street door. During the conversation the animal proceeded round the room, examining the different objects of art with ludicrous curiosity, till coming to a small bronze statue, placed upon the floor, he made a butt at it and knocked it over. The owner of the house taking no notice, his visitor observed: "That kid is a special favourite, I perceive; how long have you had it ?" "I had it!" exclaimed the virtuoso in an agony, "I thought it had been yours." "Mine!" said the gentleman, with no less astonishment, "it is not mine, I assure you."-Whereupon they both rose, and by summary process ejected the intruder.

SAYINGS.

The taxes of state are more oppressive than the state taxes. Private comfort and public magnificence constitute the perfection of society.

The cheapest government is not the best, but the best government is the cheapest; that is, God's few at the top well paid by God's many.

Philosophy is a fire of rotten sticks flickering in a desert, with all around cold and dark. Religion is the glorious sun, cheering and illumining universally.

What an annoyance are long speakers, long talkers, and long writers !-people who will not take time to think, or are not capable of thinking accurately. Once when Dr. South had preached before Queen Anne, her majesty observed to him, "You have given me a most excellent discourse, Dr. South; but I wish you had had time to have made it longer." "Nay, madam," replied the Doctor, "if I had had time, I should have made it shorter." The model of a debate is that given by Milton in the opening of the second book of Paradise Lost.

DERIVATIONS.

There is no word in the English language so much abbreviated from its original as the word "alms," from the Greek éλenμoovvn. Six syllables are contracted into one; thus, el-e-e-mos-u-ne-elmosune-elmosn (from which the French aumône,) alms; in Italian limosina, from the same original. The practice amongst modern nations of appropriating different parts of words from the dead languages, is by no means uncommon; as in the proper name Johannes, the English take the first part, John; and the Dutch the last, Hans. These instances of derivation made an impression upon me, because they were told me, when a boy, by the two greatest masters of their day in language: the first by Horne Tooke; the second by Porson; both of whom possessed the gratifying faculty of adapting their conversation to the young and the unlearned. The word alms in the original signifies something given from the motive of pity; but however amiable the feeling, we should be careful not to indulge it idly and indiscriminately. It is often said, we ought to give for our own sakes, without inquiry-in my opinion a very unsound and selfish doctrine. It is difficult to bestow charity without doing more harm than good. We not only run the risk of paralysing the moral energies of the immediate objects of our bounty, but of those who hope to become so. Giving with discretion is a great virtue; it is twice blest, and the extent of its benefits can never be foreseen to either party. Illustrative of this is the following narrative; the first part of which is true to the letter.

A FEW SHILLINGS WELL LAID OUT.

As the burly coachman of one of the northern stages was remounting his box one bleak November night at the door of a little inn noted for spiced ale

"How much will you take me to London for?" said a thinly clad boy of about fourteen, in a soft and doubting tone. The coachman turned round, and with a look of contempt slightly qualified by pity, growled out

"Can't take you for less than half-a-crown."

"I have only a shilling left," said the boy.

Why didn't you say so at first ?" said the coachman, replacing his foot on the nave of the wheel. The boy retreated a step into the shade.

"Come, jump up, my lad," cried a gentleman on the coach, "I will find you eighteenpence."

"Are not you very cold?" said the gentleman, after a short interval.

"Not very," replied the boy, rubbing his hands cheerily and down in the pockets of his cotton trowsers. "Not very; I was thinking of London.”

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"And what are you going to do there?" said the gentleman. The boy replied that he was going to be bound apprentice to his uncle, who kept a cook's shop in the Borough. Then he told his own little history, and how he had travelled up one hundred and fifty miles with the few shillings his widowed mother had been able to muster for him; and he concluded with a very intelligent account of his native place, and a no less amusing one of the principal people in its neighbourhood.

"And what do you intend to do to-night ?" said the gentleman.

"I shall go to my uncle's," replied the boy.

"But how will you find him out? We shall not arrive before midnight; besides, your uncle will be gone to bed. Come, I will give you five shillings, and you can stay comfortably at the inn till morning.”"

To be continued.

LONDON:

IBOTSON AND PALMER, PRINTERS, SAVOY STREET, STRAND.