can be more interesting in its progress or more important in its effects. Eating and drinking, reasonably used, are not only extremely pleasant in act, but in their consequences; and a healthy appetite, duly ministered to, would be a source of constant enjoyment without alloy. As we must take nourishment, it appears to me wise to draw as much gratification from it as possible. Epicurism has rather an ill name, but I think very undeservedly, if it does not lead to gluttony, or occupy too great a share of attention. A dainty meal is something pleasant to look forward to, and 'the expectation of it gives a wholesome edge to the appetite, and makes business be despatched with alacrity. Let any of my readers call to mind their anticipations in journeying towards a bespoken repast at a favourite inn, and that will put them in the way of appreciating the value in the journey through life of daily anticipations of satisfactory cheer. To come to particulars: and first of breakfast. As to this meal, much depends upon constitution and manner of life. Those who are weakly, and those who do not take much exercise, will do well to be rather abstemious at breakfast, lest they anticipate digestion. Those who take exercise before breakfast and rest after, may safely give themselves more latitude than they who observe an opposite course. Moderation in all cases is the safest. I have often remarked, that people who make it their boast that they always eat a hearty breakfast are rather of a full than a healthy habit; and I should not think, as a rule, that the practice is favourable to long life. As digestion is liable to be deranged by the various occupations of the morning, it is expedient to be careful both as to quality and quantity of food. To that end, I hold it desirable to avoid much liquid the fat or skin of meat, much crumb of untoasted bread, especially newly-baked bread, all spongy substances, and whatever has a tendency to create thirst. Coffee, unless in a small quantity and diluted with milk, is rather heating: tea, before exercise, or in travelling, I think preferable. In my

own case, I find it best to adhere to one moderate-sized cup of liquid, whether tea, coffee, or cocoa. I prefer brown bread toasted to any other preparation of flour, and if any addition is wanted, I recommend only one on the same occasion, such as eggs, a little meat, bacon, broiled fish, watercresses, or fruit. Variety I think good, but not on the same day, especially as it makes it more difficult to measure the appetite. If any thing is required between breakfast and dinner, something simple and in moderation should by all means be taken, as disappointing the appetite, I believe, is much more prejudicial than is generally supposed. Bread and fruit I find very grateful in the middle of the day, and if meat is taken, good table-beer, I think, is the most refreshing beverage, or where that is not liked, wine and water. As to dinner, I am of opinion that the consideration of that important meal may most conveniently be referred to my article on the art of dining, which I shall probably enter upon in my next number.

NATIONAL CHARACTERISTICS.

It has been well said by I know not whom, that an Englishman is never happy, but when he is miserable; that a Scotchman is never at home, but when he is abroad; that an Irishman is never at peace, but when he is at war.

EXTRAVAGANCE AND ECONOMY.

When a spendthrift sees his error he generally becomes a miser. Few indeed are the instances where extravagance is

converted into a well-ordered generous expenditure; and it is with nations as with individuals. When the war was commenced with revolutionary France, it was supposed by its advocates that it would be terminated in six weeks. Upon that supposition, calculation of course was not worth attending to, and though the contest was continued with a short interval for twenty years, the spirit of profusion with which it was begun never abated. I shall not enter into any detail of the many reasons which induced the rulers of the day to think only of spending as much money as could by possibility be raised. They did, in fact, pursue that course, and when the struggle was over, great national exhaustion succeeded, made far greater and of much longer duration by those who thought it their policy unceasingly to exaggerate our difficulties; for the consequence was, each interest affected was taught to look to the State for relief, instead of to their own energies and prudence, which would long since have brought them completely through; but then that would not have served party purposes, in comparison with which, in the eyes of politicians, the national welfare is as nothing. I recollect that soon after the conclusion of the war, when all sense of danger was over, and whilst the applications of the taxgatherer were undiminished, a very general desire for a more economical system was rising up, and it must have become irresistible, but for the hasty, selfish proceedings of demagogues and crude reformers, who created alarm, and thereby diverted public attention to the public safety. I think it was on occasion of a foolish meeting at Manchester, called the Blanketteer Meeting, that ten thousand men were added to the army. I have already, in my eighth number, shortly expressed my opinion against mob assemblies, called by many safety-valves, and often supposed to be the guardians of liberty, but, according to my view, the most efficient friends of abuses in government. I intend on some future occasion to take up the subject more at length. To return-the ob

stinate and ill-judged resistance of the party in power to all retrenchment, caused it to be forced upon them, on principles and in a tone quite below the character and the interests of a great nation, which tone and principles, if they remain in their present force, must of necessity destroy public spirit, and create, with individual wealth perhaps, individual selfishness, baseness, and corruption. During the war, the tone of the government was that of energy and extravagance, and that of the governed became the same. A corresponding effect must be expected now; and would take place also, if the nation's affairs were conducted with spirit and generosity. A minimum in expenditure will produce a minimum in other things of more consequence; and in elevation of thought, we seem to be on the road to merit the appellation which has been bestowed upon us, of a nation of shopkeepers, and for the benefit of what class the change would be, I am utterly at a loss to discover. I will conclude my observations with an extract from Burke, who did not forget the statesman in the reformer, and I beg my reader's attention to his description of Parsimony, as being particularly applicable to some of the retrenchers of the present day.

"When a cold penury blasts the abilities of a nation, and stunts the growth of its active energies, the ill is beyond all calculation. Mere parsimony is not economy. Expense, and great expense, may be an essential part in true economy. Economy is a distributive virtue, and consists, not in saving, but in selection. Parsimony requires no providence, no sagacity, no powers of combination, no comparison, no judgMere instinct, and that not an instinct of the noblest kind, may produce this false economy in perfection. The other economy has larger views. It demands a discriminating judgment, and a firm, sagacious mind. It shuts one door to impudent importunity, only to open another, and a wider, to unpresuming merit. If none but meritorious service or real talent were to be rewarded, this nation has not wanted, and

ment.

this nation will not want, the means of rewarding all the service it ever will receive, and encouraging all the merit it ever will produce. No state, since the foundation of society, has been impoverished by that species of profusion." Burke might have gone much farther, and have said that any state which should indulge in such species of profusion, would be incalculably enriched by it, both pecuniarily and morally.

LETTERS FROM THE CONTINENT.

Florence, June 7, 1822.

I shall now go back to our first arrival at Rome, which was on the 12th of February. As is generally observed, Rome disappoints you at first, improves as you know it, and ends in being the most interesting of places. The Campagna too, or country round it, which strikes travellers, merely passing along the high road, as the most desolate of districts, becomes by acquaintance highly interesting-at least I found it so, by dint of walks of from two to three hours before breakfast, and of still longer rides in the evening. The best view is from the tomb of Cecilia Metella, on the side farthest from the road, where most visitants never go. You see there, from an eminence, the walls and domes of the city, the three ranges of aqueducts, stretching for miles and miles towards the mountains, with one exception, in various stages of mutilation, and partly covered with thick ivy and wild shrubs, ruined tombs, temples and fortifications, and dark and lofty pines scattered over a desolate plain, or what looks like a plain in comparison with the Apennines and the Alban mountain, which bound it. When the lights are favourable, it is a most imposing scene; I think all scenery, in which