of thought. I found, indeed, that he was a man of only one reflection; but that was a great one. He cast his eye solemnly over the morning paper, which happened to contain the announcement of many bankruptcies. This struck the key-note of his one reflection. "Sir," said he to me, laying down the paper, and taking his spoon cautiously between his fingers, without making any attempt to lift it to his mouth" Sir, I have now lived in this world sixty-three years, through at least forty of which I have not been a careless or inattentive spectator of what has been passing around me; and I have uniformly found, when a man lives annually on a sum less than his annual incomesay five hundred, or five thousand, or five hundred thousand pounds-for the sum makes no difference-that that man's accounts are clear at the end of the twelvemonth, and that he does not run into debt. On the contrary, I have uniformly found, when a man lives annually on a sum more than his year's income - say, five hundred, or five thousand, or five hundred thousand pounds-for the sum makes no difference-that that man's accounts are liable at the end of the twelvemonth to get into confusion, and that it must end by his running into debt. Believe me, that such, Sir, is the result of my forty and odd years' experience in the world."

The oracular gravity in which this sentence was delivered-for he paused between every word, I might say be tween every syllable, and kept the uplifted spoon all the time in suspense between the plate of mulligatawny and his lip, which did not receive the savoury contents until the last syllable died away-struck me with peculiar emphasis, and I puzzled my brain to draw out, if possible, soinething equally profound to give in re turn. Accordingly, after looking straight across at him for a minute, with my head firmly imbedded on my hands, while my elbows rested on the table, I addressed him thus:"Sir," said I, "I have only lived thirty-three years in the world, and cannot, of course, boast of the vast experience you have had; neither

have my reasoning faculties been exerted so laboriously as your's appears to have been; but from twenty years' consideration, I can assure you that I have observed it as a general rule, admitting of no exception, and thereby in itself, forming an exception to a general rule, that if a man walks through Piccadilly, or the Strand, or Oxford-street-for the street makes no difference, provided it be of sufficient length-without an umbrella or other defence against a shower, during a heavy fall of rain, he is inevitably wet; while, on the contrary, if a man walks through Piccadilly, or the Strand, or Oxford-street,-for the street makes no difference, during fine dry weather, he runs no chance whatever of being wet to the skin. Believe me, Sir, that such is the result of my twenty and odd years' experience in the world."

The elderly gentleman had by this time finished his soup. "Sir," said

Be so

he, "I agree with you. I like to bear rational conversation. good as to give me your card. Here is mine. Name an early day to dine with me. Waiter, what's to pay?— Will you, Sir, try my snuff? I take thirty-seven. I wish you, Sir, a good morning." So saying, he quitted the box, leaving me to ruminate upon the discovery made by a man who had lived sixty-three years in the world, and had observed its ways for forty and odd years of that period. I thought within myself, that I, too, if I set about it seriously to reflect, might perhaps come to something as striking and original; and have accordingly set about this little work, which I dedicate to your kindness, gentle reader. If from it you can extract one observation conducive towards making you a better or a happier man, the end has been answered which was proposed to himself, by Gentle Reader,

Your most obedient,

And very humble servant, MORGAN O'DOHERTY, Salopian, May 1, 1824.-P. T. T.

Maxim First.

If you intend to drink much after dinner, never drink much at dinner,

and particularly avoid mixing wines. If you begin with Sauterne, for example, stick to Sauterne, though, on the whole, red wines are best. Avoid malt liquor most cautiously, for nothing is so apt to get into the head, unawares, or, what is almost as bad, to fill the stomach with wind. Champagne, on the latter account, is bad. Port, three glasses at dinner-claret, three bottles after-behold the fair proportion, and the most excellent wines.

Maxim Second.

It is laid down in fashionable life, that you must drink Champagne after white cheeses-water after red. This is mere nonsense. The best thing to be drunk after cheese is strong ale, for the taste is more coherent. We should always take our ideas of these things from the most constant practitioners. Now, you never hear of a drayman, who lives almost entirely on bread and cheese, thinking of washing it down with water, far less with Champagne. He knows what is better. As for Champagne, there is a reason against drinking it after cheese, which I could give if it were cleanly. It is not so, and therefore I am silent concerning it, but it is true.

N. B. According to apophthegm the first, ale is to be avoided in case a wet night is expected-as should cheese also. I recommend ale only when there is no chance of a man's getting a skinful.

Maxim Third.

A punster, during dinner, is a most inconvenient animal. He should, therefore, be immediately discomfited. The art of discomfiting a punster is this:- Pretend to be deaf, and after he has committed his pun, and just before he expects people to laugh at it, beg his pardon, and request him to repeat it. After you have made him do this three times, say, O! that is a pun, I believe. I never knew a punster venture a third exhibition under similar treatment. It requires a little nicety, so as to make him repeat it in proper time. If well done, the company laugh at the punster, and then he is ruined for ever.

1

Maxim Fourth.

A fine singer, after dinner, is a still greater bore, for he stops the wine. This we pardon in a slang or drinking song, for such things serve as shoeing-horns to draw on more bottles by jollifying your host, so that though the supply may be slow, it is more copious in the end; but a finesong-singer only serves to put people in mind of tea. You, therefore,

not only lose the circulation of the bottle while he is getting through his crotchets and quavers, but he actually tends to cut off the final supply. He, then, is by all means to be discouraged. These fellows are always most insufferably conceited, so that it is not very easy to keep them down; but it is possible, nevertheless. One of the best rules is, as soon as he has sung the first verse, and while he is taking breath for the second, applaud him most vociferously, as if all was over; and say to the gentleman farthest from you at table, that you admire the conclusion of this song very much. It is ten to one but his musical pride will take affront, and he will refuse to sing any more, saying or muttering something savage about your want of taste or politeness; for that, of course, you will not care three straws, having extinguished him. If the company press him to go on, you are safe, for he will then decidedly grow restive to show his importance, and you will escape his songs for the rest of the evening.

Or-after he is really done, and is sucking in the bravo of the people at table, stretch across to him, and say, -You sung that very well, Mr. -a-a-a, very well indeed-but did you not (laying a most decided emphasis on the not), did you not hear Mr. Incledon, or Mr. Braham (or any body else whom you think most annoying to him) sing in some play, or pantomime, or something? When he answers, No, in a pert, snappish style, for all these people are asses, resume your most erect posture, and say quite audibly to your next neighbour-So I thought. This twice repeated is a dose.

His tongue was useless; all that tongue could say,

With every effort could not ask the way! In vain the Frenchman spoke, in vain he heard

He shook his head-they shrugg'd-he frown'd-they star'd.

In English speaks he loud-now loader yet; His ears by louder sounds in French are met!

Just at the moment pass'd an humble wight, Ilis countryman, who, pitying his plight, Steps forth, and welcome interference lends

By one short sentence !-so the matter ends. Grateful, the stranger thank'd the kindness done,

And gave his friendship cordially to one Whom, had he met at home, his pride would spurn;

But pride by humble worth is bent in turn. And thus a single instance clearly shows How mean who knows not, 'pared with him who knows.

Next th' art by which we eloquently speak

Of triple portions-Logic, Rhetoric.
And Elocution. Sweet persuasive art,
Which doth to language grace and force

impart;

Which marks man so divinely from the brute,

Yea, from himself, with angel's attribute.
It is a spell, whose mighty power can bind
The rage of passion; and, as Summer's

wind

THE MARKETS.

The principal market for butchers' meat is Leadenhall, and next to that is Newgate. These are what are termed cheap markets, and, for the economist, are the best but as regards quality; for in Fleet-market, which may be ranked next to the above, you may purchase articles cheaper, but in general not so excellent. A friend of mine the other day purchased in the last-mentioned market a very fine leg of mutton, ribs of beef, and a leg of veal, all put in for 6 d. per lb.; but, although of pure quality, we cannot say that it altogether came up to the class of prime meat which we find in Leadenhall or Newgate.

Of the minor markets, as Clare, Newport, Carnaby, Borough, Oxford, and Whitechapel; the last is decidedly the worst in point of quality; as to price, it is the cheapest; but cheapness must not here be considered, as bad meat is not only unprofitable in the end, but unwhole

Some.

In Leadenhall and Newgate-market is also to be found the best poultry, eggs, &c., and at a more moderate price; and the economist will find that by entering these markets at about 7 o'clock in the morning in summer, and at 8 in winter, that he will save more than his coach-hire home by this visit, besides a healthy

excursion.

The shins of beef in the last market this week are higher by three farthings than the last; prime beef now is from 74d. to 9d. ; lamb, however, is coming down; yet we cannot recommend lamb in preference to good mutton for a family, except occasionally, as the mutton at this period of the year is more solid and nutritious.

The supplies of veal have been ample and of excellent quality. The roads about London have been perfectly crammed with caravans of calves.

The fish-market this week has bern completely glutted with mackarel; they have been purchased at a penny a piece. Salmon, however, is not so plentiful this week as it was

last. Lobsters, crabs, and cray-fish for a song.

Peas, new potatoes, and green gooseberries are more backward than they were last year, and what have been brought to market are enormously dear. Specimens of strawberries, raspberries, and cherries have been brought into market.

Spitalfields potatoe-market presents a very good display of the old potatoes still, and while that continues, we shall not regret the want of new ones. The price, however, is greatly increased.

BREWING AT HOME,
AND THE

SAVING ACCOMPLISHED THEREBY. (Continued from p. 37.)

GENERAL OBSERVATIONS.

The intoxicating qualities of porter are to be ascribed chiefly to the various compounds intermixed with it. Some description of porter is evidently more heady than others; this arises from the greater or minor quantity of stupefying ingredients. Malt, to produce intoxication, should be used in quantities quite incompatible with the public brewer's profit; we do, therefore, absolve those gentlemen from disturbing their neighbours' equilibrium by malt-juice; they have other drugs, beside that contained in their purses, to accomplish the desired object.

Pale malt is most nutritive; it likewise contains more balsamic qualities than the brown, which, enduring a greater degree of fire in the kiln, is sometimes so crusted and burnt, that its mealy parts lose a great share of the essential salts, and other stimulating properties.

Amber malt is that which is dried in a middling degree, between pale and brown, and is now much in use, being pleasanter and freer from extremes than the other two kinds.

Hops are an aromatic grateful bitter, very wholesome, and efficacious in giving both flavour and strength to the beer. With regard to the necessary quantity of hops, as tastes are