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Dec. 23, 1882.]

Stomachical, on the Important Science of Good Liring. By Launcelot Sturgeon, Esq. London: Whittaker, 1822.'


The author starts by affirming that a stomach which is proof against all trials is the greatest of all blessings; and declares it would be easy to demonstrate that it exercises an extended influence over the destinies of life. Epicurism is the result of that choicest gift of heaven, a refined and discriminating taste;' while gluttony is a mere effort of the appetite. assist the uninitiated in forming a refined taste, seems to be the author's aim; and in a succession of chapters he lays down what he terms 'moral maxims and reflections,' all calculated to tend in that direction. Many reasons might be assigned for dining late; but one is sufficient: that, trivial concerns being dismissed, all our thoughts may be concentrated on our plate, and our undivided attention bestowed on what we are eating. No one should hurry over a good dinner, and we are amazed to learn that five hours are a reasonable time to remain at table;' while the author is careful to remark that 'a well-bred man never looks at his watch in company? He who keeps dinner waiting commits an irreparable injury, and such men should be looked upon as the common enemies of society. A bad dinner admits of no palliative, for one may as well be starved as poisoned, and he who invites you to take pot-luck,' must bear you some latent injury. 'Beware of such perfidious friends; and to give more forcible expression to his indignant feelings, Mr Sturgeon suggests a new reading of Horace

This man is vile; here, Roman! fix your mark. His sole is black!

Only one offence is worse, and that is, 'to interrupt a man in the exercise of his jaws; therefore, never make an observation that requires an answer to any one while he is eating.'

The following paragraph must be quoted entire: When constrained to speak, abridge all superfluous words as a waste of valuable time; thus, if you wish to take wine with any one, instead of making a formal request to that effect, just bend the body quietly, and merely say: "Honour of some wine" and if the same broken sentence be addressed to you, make no reply, but gently bob your head and fill your glass. But if either want of appetite or want of sense should lead you into a warm discussion during dinner, don't gesticulate with your knife in your hand, as if you were preparing to cut your antagonist's throat.'

The author is careful to advise the reader to avoid being seated near any large joint, unless you choose to incur the risk of being forced to waste your most precious moments in carving for others instead of for yourself.' Still, if one's untoward fate should place him behind a joint, a turkey, or a goose, no mistaken ideas of politeness should induce him to part with all the choice bits before he helps himself. Rise above such prejudices,' is the sage advice, of which weak minds are alone dupes; and turn a deaf ear to every request for any particular part on which you may have set your own inclination. We remember,' proceeds our author, 'to have dined, some years ago, with a country corporation, a

very prominent member of which was placed opposite to a noble haunch of venison, which, as may easily be supposed, was in universal request. He carved it with an alacrity and disposed of it with a degree of good-humour that was truly magnanimous; until a sleek, red-faced gentleman in a bob-wig, at the other end of the table, sent his plate a second time for another slice of fat; to whom our friend, eyeing him with some disdain, replied: "Another slice of fat, indeed! No, sir! There is but one slice left that is worth eating, and you cannot be so unconscionable as to expect it." Whereupon, he very composedly helped himself to what remained. His conduct was very generally applauded; and for our own part, we conceived the highest opinion of his judgment, and have ever since held him in the greatest respect.'


Passing reluctantly by many things about invitations to dinner which, we are told, should always be penned in the morning, fasting-we scan hastily several chapters, and glean titbits here and there. The 'moral qualities of the stomach' are dilated upon, and the author affirms that the greatest defect in the constitution is a bad stomach. If the stomach be unsound, the heart which is lodged in it must be corrupted. therefore follows,' continues our facetious gastronome, 'that all abstemious people are persons of bad character.' This leads to a chapter on The Philosophy of the Stomach,' which opens with a learned argument in support of the proposition that a certain well-known proverb should read, 'Eat to live, and live to eat;' the writer contending that designing persons, by substituting not for and, have destroyed the meaning and the whole value of the axiom. Such persons, he adds, are only envious reformers, who, having nothing to eat themselves, would persuade us to stint our own precious stomachs, in order to ruin the revenue, and so deprive cabinet ministers of their dinners; whereas the supreme object of every good citizen should be to multiply dinners by every means in his power. The great purposes of digestion are thus amusingly described: Not only is it wholly destructive of all rational enjoy ment to swallow down one's meat without taking proper time to comment upon its merits and expatiate upon the happiness it procures us-or, in other words, to chew it with measure and reflection, and turn it as often as a minister does a new measure of finance before he can make it palatable-but on this trituration depends not alone the ineffable pleasure to be derived from expressing and compounding the juices of the viands and the flavour of the sauces, but the important object also of their undisturbed repose during the process of digestion.'

As few of those who are old enough to appreciate the pleasures of the table possess their masticators unworn by the edge of time and service, our author finds it hard to lay down any fixed rule on this subject; but affirms, as the result of a long series of experiments, that a mouthful of solid meat requires thirty-two bites of a perfect set of teeth to prepare it for deglutition. Assuming that these requisites have been secured, the author says that all one requires besides is repose, and gravely recommends the following as an opiate before retiring to bed: Take equal parts of brandy and rum, each a large,

wine-glassful, half a glass of arrack, and the same quantity of curaçoa. To these add the juice of two small limes, and the rind peeled thin-of one, with quant. suff. of refined sugar to render the whole palatable. Then pour in double the quantity of strong decoction of gunpowder tea, boiling hot, with two glasses of warm calf's-foot jelly. Stir well together, and swallow instanter.' To this he naïvely adds: 'If it fail of the desired effect, it can only be because either your conscience or your stomach is overloaded.'

Mr Sturgeon then proceeds to argue in favour of an improved system of education, by means of which children should, instead of reading Ovid's Metamorphoses, be instructed in those of Mrs Glasse, and proceed through a regular course of culinary classics.' He would have geography taught by associating Shrewsbury and Banbury with their cakes, the Isle of Wight with its cracknels, Kent with its cherries, Norfolk with its biffins, and Sussex with its dumplings. In the same spirit he would have travellers give their attention to matters of real utility, and carry culinary rather than astronomical instruments into unexplored regions. Instead of planetary, they should be required to take alimentary observations, to visit markets instead of libraries, and hold consultations with cooks instead of disputing with academicians.

These are a few of the entertaining morsels which, in the aggregate, make up a savoury dish of satire; and we can well imagine how many a bon-vivant of the last generation laughed at, even while he approved, these precepts on the art of good living.

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the garlands in which the mummy of Amenhotep I. was elaborately swathed. With others of the royal mummies were found fine detached specimens of both kinds of lotus, the blue and the white, with stems, blossoms, and seed-pods complete. Still more interesting is it to learn that upon the mummy of the priest Nebsoohi, maternal grandfather of the King Pinotem II. (twentyfirst dynasty), there was found a specimen of the lichen known to botanists as the Parmelia furThis is indigenous to the islands of the Greek Archipelago, whence it must have been brought to Egypt at or before the period of the Her-Hor Dynasty (1100 or 1200 B.C.). Under the Arabic name of Kheba,' it is sold by the native druggists in Cairo to this day.

These frail relics of many a vanished spring have been arranged for the Boolak Museum with exquisite skill by that eminent traveller and botanist Dr Schweinfurth. Classified, mounted, and, so to say, illustrated by modern examples of the same flowers and plants, they fill eleven cases -a collection absolutely unique, and likely ever to remain so. The hues of these old-world flowers are said to be as brilliant as those of their modern prototypes; and, but for the labels which show them to be three thousand years apart, no ordinary observer could distinguish between those which were buried with the Pharaohs and those which were 1 gathered and dried only a few months ago. ↑ TI Euer $720 [7 julianach fun



BLITHELY sings the young heart, and cheerily shines the

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'Tis spring o' the year, 'tis early morn, and life is but


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The day is bright, the heart is light,
And all the future years .ad
Stretch forth as fair, with never a care,
Nor clouds, nor tears.

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In an interesting article which appeared in a recent number of the Academy, Miss Amelia B. Edwards describes some curious additions to the Boolak Museum of Cairo. Several of the royal mummies discovered last year at Deir-elBahari were, it will be remembered, found garlanded with flowers, those flowers being for the most part in wonderful preservation. M. Arthur Rhoné, in a recent letter to Le Temps, has described the extremely curious way in, which these garlands are woven. They consist of the petals and sepals of various flowers, detached from their stems, and inclosed each in a folded leaf of either the Egyptian willow (Salix salsaf) or the Mimusops Kummel Bruce. The floral ornaments thus devised were then arranged in rows-the points being all set one way and connected by means of a thread of dateleaf fibre woven in a kind of chain-stitch. The whole resembles a coarse 'edging' of vegetable lace-work. Among the flowers thus preserved are the bright blue blossoms of the Delphinium orientalis, or larkspur; the blue lotus, or Nymphaea cærulea, the white of Nymphaea lotus, with pink- Hushed now is the tired heart, and set now is the sun;

Cheerily sings the old heart, while slowly sets the sun; 'Tis autumn chill, 'tis eventide, and rest, is begun, Brave was the heart that did its part,




And ever upheld the right:"


Now sets the sun, the work is done"; "Tiod of
Now comes the night.










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Boldly sings the young heart, but scorchingly shines the
sun; i'
'Tis the summer now, 'tis mid-day heat, the work of_life
is begun.



But Hope runs high, while the steadfast eye,
Fixed on the goal of Fame,
Heeds not the glare, for he who will dare,
Must win a name. 71 TORY

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No. 992. VOL. XIX.

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rap at the door, and enters, in the fashion of the country, a pretty blue-eyed Norwegian maid, who cheerfully asks how you have slept, and tells you that it is the coldest night we have had this winter She brings with her a cup of excellent coffee and the necessaries for a morning's ablution, as the tub has no temptation to-day but what seems, however, to appeal stronger to your imagination, and act on your tenderest feelings of gratitude towards the damsel, is the fagot-wood and logs she carries, which, soon ablaze in the capacious stove, send a thrill of comfort to the core of your heart. You hasten up and look at the thermometer by the window: draught, it stands between sixty and sixty-five degrees

Short "i. Ji toBY A NORWEGIAN. - 9803 de bile od: I is tot timp HAVE you ever been to Norway in the winter? You have not! Well, do you know what seventy degrees under freezing-point means? Not exactly I am glad you qualify the negation. You mean to say you have read in travellers' accounts of Siberian and American colds, of negative degrees of temperature, when horses perish and birds drop dead? I have read of those too, but never experienced them; either teamustla beni that our Norwegian degrees are smaller than others, or else we have in Norway a different as we should say, in the air. However that below freezing-point; you rub your hands with may be, we have every year such a tempera- delight at the idea; it has been seventy degrees ture, and it is then that we Norwegians enjoy in the nig night. Now it is really cold!", ourselves. Let me endeavour to sketch a winterday in Norway when the thermometer is seventy degrees below freezing-point. 4 sanoz odd crude





We gather at breakfast in the commodious dining-room of the house, where a blazing logfire sends its cheering influence to the farthest end of the hall, and we admire the fanciful play of the winter sun's rays on the Brazilian flora


You go to bed overnight warm and comfortable, your last recollection of existence being hot punch, bright ey droom you over the breakfast, discuss last night's dance, and a in the stove of your bedroom Touring logfire of the ice-covered windows. We talk and chaff

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dream summer, of balmyair, of walks in the dusk of and 1 a northern summer's evening with the girl you of the North. Never did you seem more inclined love, of the scent of hay, and the fragrance of to see your friends; you hesitate between asking mountain herbs, and you are rudely awakened them all to come in the afternoon, or going to a from your ethereal existence by sharp detonating dance at some neighbouring gaard, where there is { sounds. But if you know the sound, you know a gathering; and as there are young folks of the also that it is merely the herald of tremendous company, the latter is decided on. 1970 54 14 1.ɔi frost. You hear the old oak staircase, crack you But let us usgo outside. You sally forth, hear a splitting noise in the frame of the window, dressed to the white of your eyes' in furs; and and your bedpost seems to have got gout in its it is with a pleasant sensation of importance legs; but sleep on! it is only the natural that you hear the knirken, as we say in Norway, susceptibility of wood to cold. Day "breaks, under your heels as you walk on the crisp snow. and you are awakened by an irritating sensation Everything has a frosty and bright appearance, about your moustaches, and you find that these only the poor sparrow perched on the stack of have actually fastened onto the coverlet and corn provided for his wants (a Norse custom), are white with frost; but only keep well under chirps sadly while the wily magpies under the the feather-bed of soft down of the eiderfowl caves looks like an old philosopher, and tries hard from, the Lofoden Islands, and you will find to appear to have not the least knowledge of You are all, in spite of external appear where the spring the eggs, and the ances, on excellent terms with yourself. cherries, and all the other good things have gone





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to, which have so mysteriously disappeared from under the eagle eye of the goodwife during the days of summer. But in yonder birch, silvery with the hoar-frost, there is life and merriment ! A flock of capercailzie have settled there in the early morn, and while the proud cock swaggers about in peacock-like fashion, boasting of his lovely tail, which glistens in the sun's rays with all the colours of the rainbow, his inamorata the hen affects quite an air of unconscious naïveté as she winds through the filigree branches, so marvellously illustrative of the disposition of many a representative of the fair sex. look at the scene, and you love all creation; your gun is forgotten; the picture is too pleasing. Well, perhaps the destructive propensities may be too strong for you; you rush for it, tear the cover off, but in an instant drop it with an exclamation. The barrel is like a red-hot poker thrust between your fingers; the skin of your palm is gone through the contact with iron; and the magpie yonder, who has been watching you from under his wing all the while, suddenly shakes himself into life, and takes his slow departure with a malicious shriek.


Now comes the great event of the day, lunch, or rather dinner; and by the time the coffee and cigars have been consumed, in Norse fashion, with the ladies, the stars are already twinkling from the dark-blue northern sky. We hear the stamping and neighing of the horses as the sleighs are being brought round to the hall-door. You finish your cigar-it is too cold to smoke out of doorsand get into your furcoat, made from the fell of a Norwegian wolf; topboots lined with soft sheepskin; fur gloves; and to crown it all, a bear-skin cap drawn over your ears; and you feel fit for a drive to the North Pole.

You see that the ladies and children in the roomy family sleigh are well wrapped up in bearskin and foot-bags; but your interest is concentrated more on your own 'fare,' the girl from whose eyes you last night in the dance drunk those sweet but painful draughts of uncertain love, who now again trusts herself to your guiding arm, and this time to curb the capricious temper of a Norwegian sleigh-trotter. Carefully you embalm her in the light spids slæde, or point sleigh; you examine the wiry shafts and the harness with great care, stroke the arching neck of the animal with an encouraging word, and take your seat on the perch behind. Let him go, Gustaf!' And you are off along the hard trodden road with the speed of an avalanche, whilst the frosty air whistles around you, and makes the blood for a moment tingle in your cheeks, and you feel, through the rapid motion, a delight and internal exuberance of spirits, which is equally shared by the fair companion before you, as you speed through the glistening snow. How you bless the inventor of that vehicle, whose genius has created this pleasant little gondola of the snow for your individual benefit, in which you may be so near the object of your affection, watch every play of her capricious nature in her shadowed eyes, and inhale that sweet per


lover. Yes, how many tales of true love have not been told in a Norwegian point-sleigh, and treasured for ever by the fair listener!

And what a scene, what an impressive atom of Nature's creation you gaze on. High above the colour of which you will only see near the you is the vaulted arch of the deep-blue heavens, Polar Circle, and which is closely studded by innumerable silvery stars. There is the merry Polar star right above you, round which the 'Great Bear' walks his nightly beat, followed in solemn procession by the valiant Orion, who lifts his glistening glaive against the frontlet of the defiant Bull; while lo! just above the crowns of star arises, a visitor from a milder clime, not the pine-trees in the forest yonder, a brilliant always seen in the northern sky, the Dog-star, the vigilant Sirius of the Greeks; and across the heavens is cast a broad ribbon shining with myriads of invisible worlds, the Milky-way, along which the valorous Scandinavian Kjemper, the gallant warriors of the Saga, rode to Walhalla, the portals of which you see encircled by the fiery rays erratically flood the heavens with curved segment of the aurora-borealis, whose a thousand colours and fantastic shapes of liquid flame. And around you is the scenery of s Norwegian landscape, with its hills and dales bemantled in virgin snow, in which the distant mountains recline in bold relief on the dark background, which also invests the solemn pinetrees, under whose snow-laden crowns and boughs makes us ponder on the innumerable tales of the we are now sweeping with a mysticism which goblin and the brownie, in which old Norway



Speed on, speed on, my fleet sleipner, to where the lights are twinkling with a merry welcome from every window ! In the spacious hall, adorned with the trophies of the chase, the bearhead and the elk-antlers, we receive a hearty welcome, and the customary draught from the loving-cup, which nobody must refuse. Whilst the ladies arrange their slightly ruffled feathers, we take a stroll through the festive rooms, thronged with a merry crowd. Here is a room reserved for card-players, where the silent demeanour and sombre mien of the company indicate that large stakes are at issue; and another, where you may hear stories of money made and money misspent-of fortunes made in a day by forest-buying and forest-selling, and squandered as quickly; tales of hunting and sport, of loving and wooing, and where the rafters ring with the merriment and laughter of the proud Norwegian peasant, who knows of no aristocracy by blood, no inherited distinction, but who nevertheless can boast of a descent of a thousand years from the kings and jarls of ancient Scandinavia. And let us not forget a peep into the supper-room. The long sal, as it is termed in Norwegian, with an immense table draped in snow-white cloth, and covered with ornaments and innumerable dishes and removes, on which the pride of every good housewife is centred, is certainly a sight worth seeing; and here is neither forgotten the dram og öl, nor the smörgaas, with which the Norseman always opens the dinner campaign.

But let us hasten to the ballroom, where dancing under the fragrant pine-boughs with


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The doctor was quite a young man when he succeeded to his father's practice about the year 1810, and settled in the old family house, situated less than a mile from the sea-coast. His practice included a large island, which from its peculiar position could only be approached over a long range of dreary and very dangerous sands, passable at low-water only, but completely covered at high tides.

At the period above mentioned, smuggling was a regularly recognised business all round the English coasts, but especially those which lay near France. The island in question was then but thinly populated by four or five farmers and their labourers, who were born smugglers But although the doctor had constantly heard of these people, he had seen nothing of them personally, his education having kept him much from home. He soon, however, had an opportunity of making their close acquaintance in a manner perhaps more romantic than agreeable.

to a man.

The doctor having had occasion to visit, professionally, the wife of one of the farmers, named Sims, who was expecting to add to the 'olive branches' round the family table, was leisurely proceeding late at night to the cottage, near the shore, where he usually left his horse, when, on turning the corner of a wall, he was suddenly seized by four men, one of whom held a lantern to his face, whilst a second presented an enormous horse-pistol at his head.

A stranger!' exclaimed the lantern-holder. A revenue informer!' said a second. A prewentative spy!' cried a third.

The doctor instantly realising his position, frankly replied: You are quite mistaken, gentlemen. I am neither one nor the other. My name is Stavely-Dr Stavely-of Slaperton. I have just been attending Mrs Sims, and I am


face. At once recognising him, Sims held out his great broad hand, saying: Sure enough, and so it is.-I humbly beg your pardon, doctor. Had we known it was you, we should not have handled you so roughly. But you know, sir, our trade's a risky one, and we have to look out precious sharp sometimes for strangers and informers. Then adding, after a pause: 'I need hardly ask you, sir, to keep quiet as to what you have seen.'

'My missus!' exclaimed the fourth man; and catching up the lantern, held it to the doctor's

The doctor readily assured them all that their secret was perfectly safe in his custody; when Sims, instantly producing a large pocket-flask, filled out some brandy in the cup, saying: 'We must wet the bargain, doctor, with a sip all round;' and presented the cup to the doctor.


It contained the finest French brandy, and which, it is to be feared had never passed His Majesty's Customs, nor had been profaned by the touch of the odious 'pre-wentative' man. spirit was so potent that the doctor could take but a mere sip. He was not a little amazed, however, to see the large metal cup completely drained by each of the men in turn, as they drank Health and long life to the young doctor,' whose frank and open manner had apparently quite won their hearts. All four accompanied him to the cottage, and saw him safely mounted for his lonely ride home over the sands.

Two days after this, the doctor was again one evening in attendance on Mrs Sims, and finding his visit would probably be prolonged, he returned down-stairs and took his seat in the 'keepingroom,' a large and comfortable apartment, but having the front-door of the house opening into it direct, without an intervening hall or passage, an arrangement common enough in old-fashioned farmhouses. Two windows looked out to the front; and the commodious fireplace on one side was flanked by large cushioned elbow-chairs, inviting rest and repose. A door at the inner side of the room opened into a sort of washhouse or scullery, with one very small barred window, but having no door or any sort of outlet opening to the outside.

The doctor seated himself by the fire; and having partaken of a substantial tea, to which was added a flask of French eau-de-vie-without which accompaniment, by-the-by, nothing ever seemed to be done in this enlightened regionhe took up a copy of Gulliver's Travels, and composed himself very comfortably in one of the easy-chairs by the hospitable blaze. Whether it was the warmth of the fire or of the eau-de-vie, or the influence of the veracious adventures of Mr Lemuel Gulliver, it is impossible to say, but the doctor dropped off to sleep, and slept soundly till between eleven and twelve, when he was aware, without looking up, of the house-door opening and voices whispering together, and then heard Sims say: 'It's all safe; I see it's only the doctor. Two men then crossed the room, stepping lightly, and apparently carrying heavy burdens each, and disappeared into the scullery at the back, shortly afterwards followed by Sims himself. Some smuggling job, of course, and they are going to deposit the tubs in the scullery, thought the doctor, intending to have a yarn with Sims when he came out.

The doctor having waited a very considerable time, and all being profoundly silent, his surprise

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