irresistible; prevention is better than cure: now we defy the gout, this Summer at least. "Go thou and do THE MARKETS. THERE is little alteration in the meat market this week; if any thing, pork is a shade lower: some folks think pork likewise." out of season in Summer; for our part, we think it never out of season; it is generally cheaper at this time of year than any other, and just now indeed, whilst the weather is cool, you need not fear its taking salt: prime legs fit for making hams may be bought from five-pence to sixpence the pound. The absence of the sun and the presence of the rain keeps a scanty vegetable market, and the gardeners about London just supply it from hand to mouth. Vegetables are however gradually coming down; new potatoes increase in size and quantity, and old potatoes are growing scarce; indeed, except among the bakers, there is no demand for the latter article. Salmon is still in season, but it will not last long; when there is a full supply, it may be bought reasonable, -from sixpence to eight-pence the pound: gut it, and clean it well; take out the backbone; cut it in pieces of equal size; boil it in a kettle, with just as much water as will cover it; boil it very gently; indeed it should scarcely be allowed to boil; throw a handful of salt in the water; just as the skin begins to break, take it up; put it to drain, and preserve the liquor which drains from it, as well as that in which it was boiled; when the fish and the liquor are quite cold, put the pieces of the fish into a shallow tub or other vessel; pour as much of the liquor which has drained from the fish, and in which it was boiled, as will one third cover the fish; put in a few corns of allspice, bay-leaves, or any spice you like; then twice as much vinegar (cold) as you put in liquor, that is, just cover the fish; put on a cover that fits the vessel close, so as to exclude the air, and you will have fine pickled salmon, as prepared at Newcastle. Fruit is getting somewhat more plentiful. Strawberries are recommended for the cure of the gout. Hark! we hear the musical cry of "Fine Pines and Hautboys; sixpence a potile, large Hautboys:" this is ON DRUNKENNESS. A drunkard is a despicable member of society; but he is a member of society; therefore, to endeavour to reclaim him, is a charitable duty. A drunkard is known by many outward and visible signs, some of which are evident and to be observed by all persons, but in the gross are to drunkards only known. Look at that man: he is a drunk ard-observe the redness of his eye-the swelled eyelids-the bloated cheek-the hectic flush; his teeth are discoloured (for drunkards are invariably slovens): speak to him in the morning-he addresses you in hurried accents-he mispronounces his words-he forgets or mistakes your questions: talk to him of a recent event in which he is deeply involved -he does not remember the principal ncident; he inquires after the health of a man who has been dead for years; he mis-dates, mis-quotes, mis-culculates; he asks what day of the week it is, and scarcely remembers the street he lives in; he avoids his best friends, and makes overtures to his worst foe; he is thick of hearing, dull of sight, slow of comprehension, weak in his joints; he has pains in his body, tremblings in his limbs; his head aches, his heart palpitates; he wishes himself dead; he resolves to amendhe breaks his resolve; he renews his debauchery-he is seized with sickness he dies with a complication of diseases, unless indeed, as frequently happens, his own hand anticipates the dire result. Here is another drunkard---look at him, follow him, and observe the sign; mark his indecisive step---he jostles against the by-passers, or makes ridiculous and unnecessary efforts to avoid them; he suffers his patron to pass him without reverence, and takes off his hat to a sheriff's officer, and wonders where he saw that gentleman; now he drags his weary legs, scarce able to support his tottering frame-anon he changes his step to andante; he crosses the street without a motive; he leaves the direct road for some obscure passage: follow him; on a sudden you lose sight of him: where is he now ? yon corner liquor-shop has attracted him; there his trembling hand is pouring a dram down his throat in the hope of steadying his shattered nerves. Come out, you drunkard; nay, hesitate not-be not ashamed to come out; rather be ashamed to go in. Come, I will cease reproach; you know my observations are true: let us reason together. Are you happy? “Happy!” methinks I hear him exclaim---" I am the most miserable of men---I have lost my wife's love---I have lost my children's affection and reverence---I have lost my friends' esteem---I have lost my neighbours' good opinion---I am shunned by my superiors---I am unheeded by my equals---I am scoffed at by the vulgar---I am imposed upon by the knave I am associated with blackguards: my acquaintances are ever varying; some have destroyed themselves--some have fled to foreign climes--some are in prison for debt ---some are suffering the punishment due to the offended laws of their country--others are wandering wretched through the streets, monuments of folly and debauchery, and solemn warnings to others." Say you so?--think you so?--feel you so?---and yet do you continue in the practice of this degrading vice? "Alas! so it is. 'I see the right, and yet the wrong pur sue; I cannot live without; habit has become second nature: I cannot refrain; I cannot sleep when sober; I have once or twice tried to break it off, and have retired to bed without the intoxicating draught; but horrors dread surrounded me---feverish dreams, a restless night,-I dare not again encounter it." Mark me, my friend (for your friend I wish to be),you have a claim upon me for my advice. I know what you feel, for I, too, have feit it: you are not yet incurable. Distressing as is the first sober night of the drunkard, it is not half so dreadful as is his drunken days, and his half-soberized mornings. STOP whilst yet you are amongst living men; STOP whilst yet you have the power of profiting by my advice. This night drink not strong drink, at least not to excess. Granted that on the first trial your rest shall not be sound; but what will to-morrow be? In the morning you shall walk forth as though you had wings-the head free from pain, the hand steady, the eye open, the step firm, the voice clear, the judgment sound, the recollection distinct, with a thousand other advantages of which you have deprived yourself; or if, indeed, all these changes are not wrought by one effort, some will certainly be---others will follow; and although years may have rolled over your head without a sober moment, you may yet be restored to health, peace of mind, and regain those delights the loss of which you now so bitterly lament. Be wise in time. This is not the rant of theory: it is the fruits of dear-bought experience; these are the words of truth and soberness, and the solemn advice of a REFORMED DRUNKARD THE BAKERS. Among the numerous Bills that have passed, unknown and unnoticed, through Parliament this last session, there is not one more useless, or more anomalous, than an Act for lessening the profits of bakers, in fixing the assize of bread. It begins, "Whereas by reason of the great decrease that has taken place in the prices of the several articles in the making and baking of bread, since the passing of the 53rd George III., it is necessary and expedient that the makers and bakers of bread for sale should receive a less allowance for their charges, labour, pains, and profit, than is granted by the said Act." And it then enacts, that 13s. 10d. per quarter of wheat, and 11s. 8d. per sack of flour, shall be the allowance in future (instead of 16s. per quarter of wheat, and 13s. 8d. per sack of flour) to the baker for his profit, wherever the assize is fixed. As this act came into operation on the 1st of July, and as there is now every prospect of a most abundant wheat harvest, we feel it imperative on us, at this present juncture, to make some remarks in exposition of this subject. We shall not here discuss the corn laws. The landed interest have by their strength, in the House of Commons secured, through that measure, entirely to themselves the supply of corn for home consumption: if it be decided that such a measure is essential to the preservation of our landed interest-so let it be; but let the other part of the nation, who are as equally entitled to the protection of their government, be so protected, by other legislative measures, that they may enjoy the blessings of a bountiful Providence arising from a plentiful harvest in their native land. What we mean is---Let the public pay for their bread in proportion to what the farmer receives for his wheat --AND NO MORE. Ten years have nearly elapsed of peace---year after year we have been favoured with bountiful harvests. The average price of wheat, from January to December 1823, was only 51s. per quarter; by last Saturday's Gazette, the average for the week ending was only 628, per quarter; yet, notwithstanding all these indisputable facts, bread is charged, in London, 104d. per loaf of 4 lbs. weight!!! This needs no comment: the simple fact, that the inhabitants of this great metropolis are paying, for their bread at the rate of 90s. per quarter for wheat, is of itself a most undeniable and irresistible proof that there does exist, somewhere, a most scandalous and overbearing monopoly.› It is a mere farce-a complete jug gle-to legislate on bakers' profits: what does the paltry difference of 2s. 2d. per quarter in wheat make in the pound of bread to the consumer? --An advance of 10s. per quarter in wheat, is, in proportion, a difference only of one farthing per pound in the value of bread. That this subject is not so complicated as is generally supposed, we shall briefly show. The assize of bread first originated in 1272, in the 35th year of the reign of Henry III, and was regulated by the price of wheat alone; it so continued until 1796, when the assize was allowed to be fixed from the price of flour as well as wheat. Up to the period of the alteration, bread always bore a proportionate price. to wheat. In 1822, the assize was abolished-entirely, in the city of London; and wherever the assize was fixed, in country towns, after that period, bread was sold by the pound weight only. The whole evil under which the community are now suffering, is to be attributed solely to the alteration of the assize from wheat alone. Since that period, the public have been completely at the mercy of the mealmen and flour-factors.---Here it will be said, our case is too highly drawn too much exaggerated; it is im possible to be so bad, for competition, open competition is allowed among the bakers in London, now the assize is repealed, and if the evil is so flagrant, it will work its own remedy. Our reply is---the bakers, in London, cannot grind wheat; they are obliged to buy flour; therefore of necessity there must be an intermediate agent between the farmer and baker. Be sides which, the bakers in London are circumstanced similarly to the publicans---they are tenants to flour factors, and therefore are obliged to be the customers of their landlords.. --Now we contend, that if the legis lature deem it' expedienty for the good of the public, to regulate and circumscribe (as has been done by the late act) the profit of the baker, with the view that bread may be sold to the poor as cheaply as possible, why not strike at the root of the evil, and prevent the scandalous extortion of the mealmen and flour-factors by some salutary enactment? During the clamour of agricultural distress, the very low price of wheat was the complaint of all the country gentlemen in the House of Commons; but since that humbug has been silenced by the good sense and prosperity of the nation, these gentlemen care very little what the manufac turers pay for their bread, so as their tenants are paid a good price for their wheat. But it behoves them to look to this matter; it is as essential 1 e to their welfare as it is to that of the actual consumer; if we are to nourish and foster our own growers of Corn, the landed proprietors must not Buffer middle men to fatten on the farmer as well as the baker. Meetings have lately taken place in the manufacturing districts to petition Parliament to repeal the Corn Laws, that by opening the ports to foreign grain, artisans may be supplied with bread at a cheaper rate, thereby enabling us to compete with more success in foreign markets, and likewise to increase our exports by exchange for corn of foreign growth. If our farmers receive what is termed "a remunerating price" when the average price of wheat is from 50s. to 55s. per quarter, we assert that the manufacturing classes could afford, and would cheerfully pay, a proportionate price for bread---which proportionate price to 55s. would be 64d. for the loaf of 4 lb. weight. We ask---if under the assize fixed from wheat previous to 1796, bread was always sold in proportion to the price of wheat--why should it not be so now? Let a committee be appointed early next session by the House of Commons to inquire especially into this matter.---Previous to the meeting of Parliament, government might (as was done in 1767) order the Victualling Board to ascertain, by actual experiments, what quantity of standard wheaten bread could be made from an average quarter of wheat. We have no doubt the result would be the establishment of the assize upon such a principle as would give justice both to the farmer and to the public. Then there would be no occasion for the repeal of the corn laws---the landed, as well as the manufacturing interest would thrive and nourish each other, We shall conclude these remarks by annexing a table to show what the public ought to pay for bread when wheat is at certain prices, previously stating the basis of our calculation. As the weight of wheat is per bushel, so is its product in flour; some wheat weighs 62 lbs., other wheat 52 lbs. per bushel, but 56 lbs. is the standard of value. An average THE PLEASURE OF MAKING This most important business can only be done properly when the mind is at ease, and undisturbed by any anxieties about the body: it will be sufficiently disturbed, by contemplating the awful event at a distance--what a tremendous irritation must it not produce when postponed till.. "the last hour! ! !" What a painful but imperative duty it is to the friends of a sick person to be obliged, at such a time, instead of spirits with hints, that they despair soothing him with Hope,--to sink his of his recovery!!! The annihilating shock given by the communication that you are not only dying, but leaving those you love defenceless and pennyless in the wide world, probably exposed to the horrors of ruinous litigation---to a feeling and sensitive mind, at such a moment, is sufficient to hasten, if not produce---DEATH. Is it not wonderful, that with all this intense stimulus of both "SelfLove and Social" to do this deed of duty, that any man should put it off for one moment? Moreover, THE STAMP DUTIES on Letters of Administration, without a Will annexed, amount to one-third more than with a Will. Thus, with a Will above £. 1000---£.30 without do..... do..... 45 Even when the disposal of pro perty which the law makes in case any one dies without a will, is exactly what the person wishes, still who would forego the satisfaction of leaving that consolation to his relatives, arising from their conviction that the provision made for their future comfort was also the premeditated desire of him for whom they mourn? "When such friends part, 'tis the survivor dies."-YOUNG. But how many cases are there, where the disposal ordained by the law, may be the very last that it is the intention and duty of the person to dictate! Are not the claims of gratitude to those friends who have contributed most essentially to the comfort of your life---to those who have perhaps laid the foundation of your fortune---as strong as those of distant relatives who have never rendered you a single service in the whole course of your existence whom perhaps you have scarcely ever seen, ---whom you have found, as Hamlet says, "less than kind"?-Folk who have had no other anxiety about you, save that arising from your apothecary's report of your good health, and the probability of your long enjoying it!!! Servants who have long served us diligently--the summer of whose life we have reaped the advantage of we are bound, in equity, to make some provision for during the winter of age. Those to whose faithful and careful superintendence of our affairs, we are in a great measure indebted for our own independence, and those relaxations from business without which we should not have lived half our days-are not such persons fairly entitled to participate in the blessings of such independence? An honest man must feel it a most gratifying act of justice to leave to such servants a remuneration proportionate to the quantum of service rendered, and to his means of rewarding it: this is best done by giving them an annuity for life, payable quarterly or monthly. In such a case, direct, that the legacy duty chargeable on such annuity be payable out of your estates, or leave a sum of money for that |