miles, and, on my arrival, all sensation of pain was gone, nor was there afterwards either stiffness or discoloration. If I had not kept in action, I am sure I should have felt the effects of the blow for a very long time.

It may be useful to some people to be informed, that sealingwax dropped upon the hand will cause no injury beyond momentary pain, if it is suffered to remain till quite cold.

MISCELLANEOUS. In training youth, care should be taken from the first, not only to instil into their minds a desire for excelling in those things which are worthy of excellence, but they should be taught to hold in contempt what is useless and prejudicial. Strength is excellent; but the waste of strength is folly. To be equal to every occasion is glorious ; but to do more than the occasion requires is vainglorious. Men are taught to pique themselves upon excess, instead of upon economy, in their resources, and the vanity of parents leads them to encourage their children in that prodigality of effort which is sure to be followed by regret. In fasting and in feasting, in exercise and in amusement, we are not content to observe the happy medium, but strive to distinguish ourselves by overstepping the bounds of reason. In what is useful we introduce abuse, and in what is pernicious, we exceed our inclinations, merely for the sake of boasting. Men ride, and drink, and fast unreasonably, solely to say that they have done so, and indulge in extravagance and profligacy, and vice and frivolity, only for the name. If youth were taught to glory in health and prudence, and all their consequences, and to be ashamed of the opposites, their habits would be as easily formed to what is profitable and becoming, as to the reverse. Fashion is all. To suffer real inconvenience from useless, or worse than useless feats, for the empty pleasure of talking of them, is barbarous folly, to which sound training would make men superior. What a perversion is it to glory in riding or walking long distances, without rest or refreshment, in drinking several bottles of wine at a sitting, or in slaughtering game by heaps ! The true glory is to use a good constitution well, and for worthy ends. In my foolish days I have been foot-sore for a fortnight from tuiling at one start over that distance, which now, by good management, I should perform with ease and benefit. I once set out, with a friend of mine, to walk thirty miles. He was quite unused to that mode of travelling, and, besides, at starting found himself not altogether well. From consideration for him I was obliged to be very careful, much more so than I should have been if alone. We set off gently, and at the end of four miles breakfasted, after which he quite recovered. At the end of eleven miles further we had mutton-chops and spiced ale, both in moderation. My companion was so fresh at the end of his journey, that he ran over Waterloo Bridge, and we both went out to parties the same evening, as if we had only taken a walk in the Park. I have performed the same distance more than once at one start, but never without inconvenience for some time after. It is not calculable what may be accomplished in everything in life, as well as in walking, by moderate beginnings and judicious perseverance. It is the great secret of success.


SUPPERS. I do not know how I came to dismiss the subject of the art of dining without saying a few words in favour of that agreeable, but now neglected meal, supper. The two repasts used to hold divided empire, but dinners have in later years obtained all but an exclusive monopoly, to the decay, I am afraid, of wit, and brilliancy, and ease. Supper has been in all times the meal peculiarly consecrated to mental enjoyment, and it is not possible that

any other meal should be so well adapted to that object. Dinner


be considered the meal of the body, and supper that of the mind. The first has for its proper object the maintenance or restoration of the corporeal powers; the second is intended in the hours of relaxation from the cares and business of the day, to light up and invigorate the mind. It comes after everything else is over, and all distraction and interruption have ceased, as a pleasing prelude and preparation for the hour of rest, and has a tendency to fill the mind with agreeable images as the last impressions of the day. Compared with dinner, it is in its nature light, and free from state.

Dinner is a business ; supper an amusement. It is inexpensive, and free from trouble. The attempt to unite the two meals in one, in the manner now practised, is a miserable failure, unfavourable to health and to the play of the mind. Nothing places sociability on so good a footing, and so much within the reach of all, as the custom of supping. There is an objection made to suppers, that they are unwholesome. Nothing, I think, can be more unfounded; indeed, I believe them, if properly used, to be most wholesome, and quite in accordance with the dictates of nature. Undoubtedly large suppers are unwholesome after large dinners; but not so, light suppers

after moderate dinners. I think, if I were to choose, my ordinary course of living would be a simple well-conceived dinner, instead of the luncheon now in vogue; then tea,

with that excellent adjunct scarcely ever enjoyed in these days, buttered toast, about the present dinner-hour, and a savoury little supper about half-past nine or ten o'clock, with a bowl of negus, or some other grateful diluted potation after. I am of opinion there is no system so favourable to vigorous and joyous health as the moderate indulgence of a moderate appetite about a couple of hours before retiring to rest, those hours filled up with the enjoyment of agreeable society. In the colder months I have great faith in finishing the day with a warm and nourishing potation. It is the best preparation for one's daily end, sleep, or, as Shakspeare calls it," the death of each day's life;" and those, with whom it does not agree, may be sure it is not the drink's fault, but their own, in not having pursued the proper course previously. A good drink over a cheerful fire, with a cheerful friend or two, is a good finish, much better than the unsatisfactory ending of a modern dinner party.-Here I must mention that, in order to have good negus, it is necessary to use good wine, and not, as some people seem to think, any sort of stuff, in any condition. Port negus is delicious, if it is made thus. Pour boiling water upon a sufficient quantity of sugar; stir it well; then pour some excellent port, not what has been opened two or three days, into the water, the wine having been heated in a saucepan. Stir the wine and water well together as the wine is poured in, and add a little grated nutmeg. A slice of lemon put in with the sugar, and a little of the yellow rind scraped with it, make the negus perfect; but it is very good without, though then, properly speaking, it should be called wine and water. Supper is an excellent time to enjoy game, and all meat of a deli. cate nature, and many other little things, which are never introduced at dinners. I am far from wishing to explode dinners as a social meal, but I object to their enjoying a monopoly, and the adoption of the two meals on different occasions would furnish opportunities for an agreeable variety. One frequently hears people object to dining early, on the ground that they feel themselves disinclined to do anything after dinner ; but this is a false mode of reasoning. After a late dinner there is a disinclination to action, especially if it is an overloaded repast ; but the reason of this is, that the powers have become exhausted, which is a solid argument against late dining with reference to health and spirits. But a moderate dinner, in the middle of the day, when the digestive powers are the strongest, instead of unfitting for action, has the very contrary effect, and a person rises from table refreshed, and more actively inclined than before. No one, whose digestion is in good order, complains of the incapacitating effects of luncheon, which is in reality a dinner without its pleasures.


may be said to be a joyless dinner, and dinner a cumbrous

supper, and between the two, they utterly exclude that refreshing little meal tea. We live in a strange state of perversion, from which many emancipate themselves as much as they can, when the eye of the world is not upon them; and if everybody dared to do as everybody would like, strange changes would soon appear. If the state prisons were thrown open, and the fetters of fashion cast off, what inward rejoicing there would be among rich and poor, male and female! What struggles, what pangs, what restraints would be avoided ! What enjoyments, what pleasures would present themselves, and what elasticity would be given to the different bents of the human mind! If reason and virtue alone dictated the rules of life, how much more of real freedom would be enjoyed than under the present worn-out dynasty of fashion !


SAVINGS BANK FOR SEAMEN. In consequence of the articles on the habits and treatment of sailors when on shore, in some of my former numbers, I received a communication on the subject of an establishment of a savings' bank for that class of persons, from Mr. Hutchinson, actuary of the London Provident Institution, Blomfield-street, Moorfields, with whom I became acquainted when he was serving the office of overseer in the parish of Limehouse, which is within the jurisdiction of my office. Mr. Hutchinson is doubly entitled to attention on this subject ; first, from a long residence in the maritime quarter of the metropolis, and an acquaintance with parochial affairs there; and, secondly, from a daily experience of several years in a savings' bank of great business. He informed me that he had some time since sketched a plan for a seamen's savings' bank, but that he was discouraged from going on with it in consequence of the death of a gentleman who took a principal interest in its success. At


desire he has furnished me with a few ob. servations, which I shall make the groundwork of the following article, in many instances using his own words.

Of all the plans devised for bettering the condition of the labouring classes, not one has so successfully promoted that object as the establishment of savings' banks. This marked success has been the natural result of the application of a sound principle, namely, that the bettering the condition of the lower classes rests mainly with themselves, and that all attempts to ac

omplish this desirable object by means of bounties and premiums

has an indirect tendency to make their condition worse, inasmuch as bounties and premiums teach them rather to lean upon others, than to depend upon their own exertions for support. The Society for bettering the Condition of the Poor seems to have come to this conclusion after many years of experience; for upon the establishment of savings' banks in the metropolis, it immediately applied its funds to the support of these institutions, and materially assisted in permanently establishing them. Although the numerous savings' banks in the metropolis would seem to meet the convenience of all persons desirous of availing themselves of them, there is yet one class, whose peculiar situation and habits require that an institution should be especially established for their benefit. The seamen frequenting the port of London make little use of the savings' banks now existing. They are not in any particular manner brought to their notice. The rules and regulations have no particular relation to their peculiar exigencies and way of life. They have no friends to put them in the right way; whilst they are beset on every side by the most voracious and profligate of both sexes, whose interest it is to decoy them into habits of the most senseless improvidence. From the moment they arrive in port, and before they can set foot on shore, till they are not only pennyless, but have utterly exhausted their credit on the most ruinous terms, they are made victims of a regularly organized gang of land-sharks who haunt them wherever they go. Calumniated and unprotected whilst they might be able to secure their independence, they become objects of sympathy only when sickness, accident, or old


has reduced them and their families to destitution. A sailor's reception on his return to land is ordinarily a sorry recompense for the dangers and hardships of a long voyage; and in a few days he often finds himself shamelessly' stripped of the earnings of as many months. When on the ocean he must make up his mind to be cut off from domestic enjoyment, but when on land it is too often embittered or destroyed by the profligate system to which he is exposed. It is a mistake to suppose that seamen are naturally more improvident than landsmen; they are made so by the circumstance of receiving their wages in accumulated sums, and other men in the same rank of life, when exposed to the like temptation, seldom resist to a less extent, except in so far as they are not equally beset by villany. In how many trades do the majority of workmen cease to labour as long as they have a shilling in their pockets ! But this failing is not an incurable one, if all possible facilities and allurements were afforded to habits of saving ; and the sailor has then an advantage over all other classes of labourers, in that, whilst he is earning his wages, he

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