which said new regimen is, some hun dred years afterwards, quoted to a gene ration yet unborn, as one of the most melancholy cases on record, of an invaluable life having been sacrificed to a mistaken policy of insurance. This is to us a riddle, which we wish the clever Sphynx would solve, since Edipus is dead.

It is pleasing to think how very difficult it is to kill people by improper medical treatment. The doctors have, doubtless, doomed many millions to death-in their day-but many millions more have escaped scot-free from their most pernicious prescriptions, after having swallowed them with the most obedient and grateful simplicity, gulped them down with such monstrous ugly faces, that death most likely took fright and scampered off to do the job of less forbidding and formidable patients. Some people, indeed, there are, whom we defy you to kill by hook or crook-and who, like old castles that have stood sieges without end, will crumble at last into ruins. You do not so much wonder at their tenacity, or rather pertinacity of life, for they are lean, lank, bony, gaunt, grim and ugly customers, of whom death cannot get a fair hold, when the two stand up to wrestle, and it is pronounced a dogfall-or a draw. But the persons worthy our unqualified admiration, are your poor, puny, slight, slim, slender billies, weighing barely seven stone, and whom Favonius might fit away with under his wing like a leaf -who, the moment they receive the smallest insult from any disease whatever-be he who he may-shew fight, without minding the difference of weight, and often by a dexterous dig on the wind, floor the lubber, amid the uproarious applause of the ring. They then put on their clothes with the utmost sang-froid, and leave the ground without a scratch. We know several such prime bits of stuff-more especially one-a Highlander who was out in the Fifteen, then a mere boy, --and afterwards, of course, in the Forty-five, a growing lad of two score -and who, never measuring above five feet three, nor weighing above seven stone seven-was yesterdaywhen he came for his caulker-as fine a fellow of a hundred and twenty and upwards, as ever turned up his little finger, although independently of being riddled by balls and bayonets,

he ran the gauntlet in many fevers, scarlet, brain, rheumatic, and typhus, through Queensberry House and the Infirmary. Others again there arefine, straight, stout, jolly ruddy-faced fellows, such as you see in the Six-feet Club, who occasionally go off like the snuff of a candle, after the long wick has been hanging for an hour or two alongside of the melting tallow-or who first keep walking about weakly and weekly in great-coats-are rext seen shivering on horseback with long hair to its heels-then observed with whitey-blue faces at the window of a glass-coach-and finally-all within the month-are hearsed invisible to all eyes, and deposited beneath the galleries of the subterranean moudiewarp.

But to return-is the author of this medical work a Physician, an Old Woman, or a Quack? Or is he of the Composite Order? He is an Old Woman. The rustle of the petticoats is heard in the very preface. On his way up stairs, you hear that he and the old lady that used to edit my Grandmother's Review, are twins. His object is, to "impress people with the fact, that there are certain means of insuring a freedom from disease, and a long life." He is such an extremely old woman himself-such a dowager Lady Raven-his origin stretches back into such a remote antiquity, that he has little allowance to make for those foolish persons who persist in dying at fourscore. Galen, he tells us, reached, by means of regimen, the great age of one hundred and forty, although his constitution had been much shattered before he had arrived at the twenty-eight mile-stone on the road of life, not then Macadamized. The noble Venetian, Cornaro, half dead at forty, so restored himself to decent health, as to outlive the century that was born along with him, and see it gathered unto its fathers; and there is an Admiral Henry, he tells us, of Rovelden, in Kent, who, till his sixtieth year was a martyr to various chronic diseases, but who some years ago reached the age of ninety-one, and walked daily three miles, back and forward, to the neighbouring town of Tenterden without stopping or wetting his whistle. "The Admiral," quoth he, " is, I believe, now living." No doubt he is, and the very expres sion, "I believe," seems to imply a

doubt that proves our friend the Doc tor to be, after all, of a very incredulous and sceptical mind-or if such puny fellows as Galen and Cornaro so bearded Time, why may not gallant old Henry-true English heart of oak -live six hundred years or more, and be entitled to add CCCCC to Rear-Admiral? The only difficulty with most people is to get safely and stoutly on the weather-beam of a hundred. After that it is all plain sailing-and, were we not restrained by our veneration for old age, we should say that the man who dies at all after a hurdred and forty, must be a sed old blockhead -entirely superannuated, and in the last stage of dotage.

Before we go farther, we wish, with all due respect, to ask this worthy Old Woman one single question. Why all this anxiety for a long life? Does she not know that since the Flood the term of human life has been fixed at about threescore and ten years? It is quite long enough. If a man will but be busy, and not idle away his time, he may do wonders within that period. Only think of Alexander the Great, who had conquered the world at thirty, and having nothing more to do, got dead drunk in Babylon. Think of Master Beattie, who was the Young Roscius at twelve. Remember the name -which we have forgotten-of that universal linguist, who hopped the twig before he had cut all his single teeth -or fairly given up sucking. Lord preserve us in this literary age-if people were to keep scribbling on for centuries! When, pray, would a man or woman be in the prime of life? We presume a maiden lady of sixty would be quite a tid-bit-and that it would be nuts to carry off the great-grandmo. ther of a gentleman in extensive practice at the English bar, or haply Lord Chancellor, to Gretna Green. No-no-no-life is long enough as

it is

there is no occasion to stretch it to the crack of doom. Let us die at a moderate age and be thankful. Why this vain longing for longevity? Why seek to rob human life of its melancholy moral-namely, its shortnessand deprive flowers, grass, dew, smoke, vapours, clouds, and bubbles, of the poetry and passion now inherent in their names and natures, as natural emblems of the destiny of man?

Have you ever ruminated, our good Old Lady, on the consequences of the

prolongation of human life-free, too, from all those diseases which at present flesh is heir to? What would become of the University of Edinburgh? The medical school would be knocked on the head-and instead of a hundred and thirty doctors per an→ num issuing out of its gates, you might as vainly look for a physician as for a phoenix-an arimaspian as an apothecary-a griffin as a graduate. If there were no sufferings of the body, there would be no paupers and no charity. Religion would be a luxury rather than a necessary of life -people in general would walk about counting their fingers-ennui would cease to be fashionable because epidemical- the most pathetic elegies would be poured over the interminable length and slowness of human life-and ten to one, there would be a violent re-action terminating in universal suicide.

Let us see, however, by what means our author proposes to add a century or so to the life of each purchaser of his volum. "I shall," says she, "proceed at once to point out the qualities of the chief articles used as food by man, both animal and vegetable, with the proper times for eating and drinking, and the quantity best adapted to the purposes of health and longevity; in order that those who are earnestly desirous of becoming acquainted with the art of living long and comfortably, and of adhering thereto, may not be at a loss on any point of consequence relating to so material a branch of that art as diet." The "march of mind" now moves at double-quick time, awkward squad and all-and we look over our left shoulder, as we advance, with contemptuous pity, on our ancestors. They knew nothing, they could do nothing, and it is odd how they contrived to keep themselves out of the fire. Before their eyes, the road to their own mouths lay dim and uncertain, and they sorely lacked a fingerpost. Even now, it would appear from this book, that mankind, although, or rather because, an omnivorous animal, left to their uninstructed reason and instinct, are incapable of arriving at the discovery of the proper hour of the day at which they should all, as at the toll of one bell, or beat of one gong, sit down to dinner. It is now somewhere about six thousand years since man became an animal, or living crea

ture, and it is singular he should all along have been such an ass as never to have discovered-not only not the longitude-but longevity. Millions, billions, trillions, quadrillions of human beings have been all that time eating and drinking, indeed doing very little else worth mentioning; and yet they now know no more about the matter, if indeed as much, as Adam or Eve. Either the "art of living long and comfortably," to use our friend's words, is one of very difficult acquisition, or all the nations of the earth are noodles, and incapable or unworthy of reading to any effect this Magazine. He speaks, in the passage quoted above, "of those who are earnestly desirous of becoming acquainted with the art of living long and comfortably;" but heretofore, how small must have been their number! What clouds of ephemeral children are for ever warping away on the wind of death-whence coming and whither going, why, how, or wherefore, who can tell? Poor motley phantoms, they had not sufficient sense given to them to" be earnestly desirous of becoming acquainted with the art of living long and comfortably, and of adhering thereto;" but why did not their parents know this for them? Why suffered they fate to blow them away out of sight for ever, like midges, and thousands of other sorts of small insects, all most beautiful when you look at them through a microscope, nay, even magnificent miniatures-pardon the Iricism, if it be one-in their flexile armour, their brightly burnished coats of mail beaten by the noiseless hammer of Nature out of silver and gold! Yet true it is, this is a silly worldand therefore let us see how an Old Woman is to set us all to rights. He begins with diet and tells us that food is of two kinds-Solid and Liquid- which, for the sake of convenience, he considers in separate sections. We have a confused recollection of having heard this distinc tion-this distribution of the subject -in early youth. It is not, we are confident, a new discovery, as our author seems to think. Indeed, the world we inhabit may be also said to be of two kinds-solid and liquidthe land and sea. But passing from that, all solid food is either of animal or vegetable origin. Thus, a cow or ox, a cod or howtowdie, is of animal

origin. Wheat and oats, a potatoe, nay, even a parsnip, is of vegetable origin. The native of a cold climate ought to eat much animal food-of a temperate climate much vegetable. In favour of vegetables, generally, it may be said that man could hardly live entirely on animal food, but we know he may on vegetables. "A man was prevailed on to live upon par tridges without vegetables, but was obliged to desist at the end of eight days, from the appearance of strong symptoms of putrefaction." The same man might have lived for eight years on potatoes, without appearing to putrify. Vegetable food has also, we are told, a beneficial influence on the powers of the mind," and tends to preserve a delicacy of feeling, a liveliness of imagination, and acuteness of judgment, seldom enjoyed by those who live principally on meat.' Now every lady and gentleman in Great Britain lives principally on animal food, or, as our author has it, “on meat." But then Dr Franklin, we are told," took entirely to a vegetable diet," and a delicate person he was truly! Why, he was as clever, acute, and thoroughly coarse and unimaginative a gentleman of the press as ever defended Deism-the beau-ideal of a philosopher, to be set up as an idol in a Mechanics' Institution.

Notwithstanding the story of the partridges, and of Dr Franklin,-" from the preceding facts," quoth our friend,

we rightly infer that the combination of an animal and vegetable diet is, in general, best suited to preserve a perfect state of health and strength, and, as society is now constituted, to conduce to longevity."

The excellent Old Woman then tells us that the proportion of this mixture is of importance-that the valetudinarian will often find that a small proportion of animal food is the best for him, especially if he be very ill indeed

and that where little bodily exertion is employed, much animal food is improper; but where the bodily exercise or labour is constant and great, the use of animal food ought to be liberal.

Now really, there needed no old woman to come from her bed to tell us all this. Who ever ate, or saw eaten, a beef-steak without bread, or potatoes, or shalot, or mustard,—all vegetables, every mother's son of them? What round of beef in this world was

So, on the other hand, observe a man narrowly on a vegetable diet, and you will be delighted to see the immense quantities of animal matter which he devours. True, that enormous shave of bread in his paw is vegetable, but then the surface is the eighth part of an inch deep of butter, which is animal, we believe, as several full-grown flies well knew a few minutes ago, now imbedded in a state of insensibility in the yellow milkness. True, that boundless bowl of broth seems filled to the rim with barley, beans, pease, turnips, carrots, and many other vegetables which we have not now time to enumerate; but two pounds of mutton have been stewed down into it, and so amalgamated with the mess, that the whole seems the produce of the garden, and the gormandizer before you a member of the Horticultural Society. In short, it requires no nice analysis to detect all vegetable diet to be three-parts animal; and even in Ireland, the potatoe, which, we cheerfully grant, is, when eaten by itself, very much of a vegetable, often, thank Heaven! falls into the trap along with a bit of pig's face or trotter, than which there is no matter more animal in all the world. The mixture, then, of animal and vegetable diet will be found to prevail so generally, both in savage and civilized life, as to set-now that we have mentioned it-this Old Lady's mind completely at rest.

There is but one step from the Truism to the Paradox. The Old Lady forthwith tells us, that, "in the summer, our diet should be wholly vegetable." The devil it should? What! with all those beautiful fat lambs bleating on the hills? That hen and chickens searching for pearls on that dunghill before our very eyes? Those turkey-pouts, glancing their snakelike necks and heads in every direction-slim, yet satisfactory-and, as part of a dinner for a single gentleman, when nicely roasted, oh what a remove! Leave the Old Lady herself alone with such a temptation, about four o'clock of the afternoon, for she keeps good hours, and she will not pout at the turkey-not she indeed nor yet turn her back upon the ham. If quite alone, she will draw, with both hands, first the one leg and then

the other, through and through her teeth, tearing off all the sinews, and sucking out the pith, and even crunching the bones, till her plate is as clean as if Bronte had licked it; and yet, after all, the Old Lady does not scruple to say, "in the summer our diet should be almost wholly vegetable !" What a world this is for hypocrisy and double-dealing!

Summer! a pretty reason for a vegetable diet indeed in this country! Why, do you remember the summer that came upon us some four years ago? Thermometer seldom above fifty-the day a dismal drizzle, or an even-down pour-some light but no sun-and the night a hollow howl, through which you could not hear the owls. A ve◄ getable diet, forsooth! Pretty vegetables they were not two pease on an average to the pod! Animal food, in all its possible modes, was the sole resource of the wretched inhabitants. Then, the summer did not stop at the usual time, but kept soaking away through the autumn on into the very heart of winter-so that instead of a fine bold black frost at Christmas, we had a close clammy time of it, which, had people been weak from a vegetable diet, would have swept us off in thousands; but we found safety in the shambles, and the City, strong in animal food, was saved from the Plague.

The first section of the chapter on Solid Food terminates with this original advice: "It is worthy of observation also, that vegetable food is much the best for children, after they have done with the nurse's milk." Who ever doubted it? Suppose a child weaned within the year, who ever thought of cramming it with fat bacon without any beans, with sausages, or haggis? The imp would become a Vampire if thus fed on blood-would fasten upon its mother or dry-nurse; and when sent to school, instead of purchasing barley-sugar with its Saturday penny, would regale on Pluck.

The good Old Lady now comes to particulars, and treats of Animal, as one great branch of Solid Food. Bullbeef, she informs us, is tougher than that of cow, and ox-beef best of all. Old ewe mutton is coarse-five-year-old well-fed wether mutton fine-there is less nutriment in veal than in the flesh of the full-grown beast-lamb is less dense than mutton-venison very digestible, wholesome, and nutritious

-good pork is a very savoury food, and suited to persons who lead an active and laborious life-some writers praise it pickled-but with some delicate people it immediately affects the bowels in rather a violent mannerthe flesh of the sucking-pig is a great delicacy-bacon is a course and heavy food-hare and rabbit are sufficiently nutritious-turile a most nourishing and palatable food-and the esculent frog tastes much like chicken. Birds, in point of digestibility, rank nearly as follows:-Common fowl-partridge, pheasant, turkey, guinea-hen, and quail, pigeon, lark, thrush, and fieldfare, woodcock, snipe, and grouse, are easy of digestion. The goose is fit only for strong stomachs, and those who labour hard. The duck is preferable to the goose-and wild waterfowl cannot be much recommended, being generally heavy and indigestible.

Now, our own opinion is, that all the above birds are most easily digested; and that, to a hungry man, it is of little moment which of them you lay upon his plate. It is an idiotic calumny against the character of wildfowl, to say that they cannot be much recommended. They are always in bang-up condition-melt in your mouth beyond all praise-and we defy you not to digest them, if you ever digest anything. A teal!

The Old Lady is no admirer of fish, and denies that they are nutritious. Salmon, she says, is unwholesome !— Pray, may we ask, to whom? Not to men or otters, although a very small slice of salmon will indeed sicken a Cockney, who does not understand the curd, and likes it all in a slobber. Stewed oysters, we are told, are extremely pernicious to lying-in women -not so raw, which are highly nutritious, of easy digestion, and may be taken with great advantage by the robust, as well as the weak and consumptive. Notwithstanding this, in our opinion, a single barrel of oysters is as much as is good for man or woman at a single sitting; and even that quantity may be pernicious without a jug

or two of Glenlivet.

"The best time for the consumption of fish," sayeth the old lady, "is in the summer;" that is, when the best among them are all either out of season, or not to be got for love or money.

By reducing to practice the above information concerning Solid Arimal Food, any person of a tolerable constitution will infallibly, barring accidents, reach a good old age, say a hun dred and forty-the age of Galen.

We come now to the second great branch of Solid Food-Vegetable. And first of farina. Of the two sorts of bread, fine white, and coarse_brown, the latter, we are assured, is the most easy of digestion, and the most nutritive. Perhaps it may be; but it is cursed bad, and infernally vulgar. It has a sweetish damp taste, that adheres pertinaciously to the tongue and palate, and is generally gritty, and full of sand and small stones. Respectable servants object to it, and you are reckoned anything but a good Christian by the beggar who opens for its sake the mouth of his reluctant wallet. "A dog," it is asserted by our author, "fed on fine white wheaten bread, with water, both at discretion, does not live beyond the fiftieth day; but if fed on coarse bread, with water, precisely in the same manner, he preserves his health." Oatmeal porridge is not a bad thing, as the Scots can vouch; and on rice the Hindoos thrive. But never do you drink ale after rice and milk, as it is almost certain of pruducing cholic.

The Old Lady herself, however, now and then makes some not unsensible observations. Thus, she says that we may consider it an unerring rule, that any kind of aliment for which we feel a natural and permanent appetite, is salutary and conformable to our na ture. We are delighted with the following panegyric on the much-abused, blameless, and most meritorious Potatoe.

"Of this kind is that invaluable root the potatoe, which, in the most simple preparation, and without any addition but salt, affords an agreeable and wholesome food to almost every person. It is the best substitute we possess for bread, being a light, alimentary substance, neither viscid nor flatulent, and having little tendency to acidity. It is, consequently, very nutritious, and, for the most part, easy of digestion. A few dyspeptic and bilious people, inif not well cooked, or if not of a good sort; deed, find it to disagree, more especially but this is a rare occurrence. A convincing proof of its highly nutritive qualities is, that the greater part of the arrow-root sold in England is extracted from it. The dry, mealy sort of potatoe is the most easy of di