bilities are exhibited in the fullest magnificence. I believe it is about eight years since the first appearance of a remarkable work, which described with extraordinary vividness and force the effects produced by opium, and particularly, the fearful and romantic dreams which resulted from the use of this drug. A friend of mine, who is himself dyspeptic, has since drawn up, in imitation of the above-mentioned work, an essay on the ill effects of suppers, and of the nocturnal fancies which in his own case resulted from an addiction to them. His whole treatise is but an enlargement upon that old vile, mean, coarse, vulgar saying, "Eat toasted cheese and you'll dream of the devil"-yet see what he has made of it! 66 During this period of my existence" (i. e. while he was addicted to supper-eat ing), "nothing could exceed the awful vividness and exhaustless variety of the dreams by which my sleep was visited. I passed through every form of persecution, every base change of contumely. I was tossed in blankets, I was ducked in borseponds, I was hissed, I was pelted, I was burnt in effigy, and hung in caricature. The stocks and the pillory were familiar to my vision. The chair was ever twitched from under me in every company I entered-all the business of life was concentrated into Christmas gambols at my expense-every day was the first of April, and I was the universal fool. The reminiscences of my tender years, the fruits of my varied studies, became in turn the instruments of my torment. I was a baby in arms, and was crammed with pap― I was put in the corner-again was I flogged at school-and again, and yet again, I was seized by ogres-I was made to wait upon Jack the giant-killer-1 was buried in the recesses of a Christmas pie, and pulled out and mumbled by Little Jack Horner-I was kicked by Cinderella-I was sorely scratched by Puss-in-boots-I had done a deed, they said, at which Mother Goose was scandalized-strange animals flocked around, and mowed and leered, and glared upon me. My most constant tormentor was the poodle-dog. Frequently I thought I was in a cabaret in France, hungry and thirsty, painfully thirsty, relishing sour vin-du-pays, which I drank out of the bottle-when, all at once, the chairs would be turned into poodles, and I saw the animals' greedy eyes peering at me from under the table, and I dashed the half-tasted bottle to the ground. Nothing was more oppressive to me than my frequent sensations of infinitude and illimitable repetition. I was for ever drowned, and for ever resuscitated by the Humane Society. For years I was buried in patent coffins, conscious of my situation, and waiting in vain for the resurrectionman that never came. The sensation pursued me in other shapes-I was a pudding, VOL. V. Ꮓ

a plum-pudding, enveloped in a bag composed of ten thousand folds of sail-cloth, and I was boiled for ages, and I rose, and sank, and was tossed and tumbled, and rolled and bubbled on the fiery surges of the insatiable cauldron. Again I existed in my own shape, and I was mingling in society, and accosted former friends. There was one whom I always met, and we grasped each other's hands, and shook, and shook them, ay, for ages. Days, mcnths, years, rolled away, and we were still shaking each other's hands, still saying,' How d'ye do?' Again I was in the Island of Juan Fernandez, and the hot sun of the tropics darted fiery rays upon my head, and it seared my long dark hair, and seemed to scorch my very brain. And I saw a savage man approaching, his skin bronzed by the heat, and in the simple majesty of nature, save that he wore a cocked hat and top-boots that he had taken from a wreck, and a parasol shaded his head. And methought he cried aloud in my own tongue, 'Away, away, your wig is on fire!'-and I darted from him and strove to extinguish it: I strewed sand upon my head; I heaped leaves; I stripped off my clothes to bind them round it-Alas! alas! it might not be-I swam through rivers! I plunged into morasses-still, still the burning shame blazed on; still, still my wig was on fire. At length I rushed into the ocean; deeper than ever plummet sounded, I dived hissing into its recesses, and the monsters of the deep yelled at me in scorn; and a voice was given them, and they bellowed forth 'Your wig is on fire!' And I rose hissing to the surface; and again was heard the hateful shout, and the cliffs repeated it, and the last solemn reverberations of the dying echoes awfully responded 'Your wig is on fire!""

I could point out many other beautiful indications of the prosaic excellence to which we have arrived, but for the present these specimens will suffice.

TASTES.+

"What's one man's meat is another man's poison."

DID any one but a hermit, shut out by

his fellow men, ever pass a single day without encountering something to remind him of the above proverb? It is not necessary to recur to foreign or to ancient manners in

woods and rocks from all intercourse with

order to exemplify it: we need not remember that the Romans ate caterpillars and fat puppies-that the Cochin Chinese prefer eggs with chickens in them, and

+ Ibid.

begin their preparations for a feast by making their hens sit-that the Scandinavians had so warm an admiration for leeks, that he whom we should term "the flower," was by them entitled "the leek" of his family-or that the only dainty which could tempt the delicate appetite of a sick old Brazilian woman was the finger of a Tupuyan boy;-our own age and country can supply us with sufficient examples to prove the truth of the adage; and the first time we dine out, it is highly probable that half of the company will, during the repast, eat with very conspicuous relish what would make us extremely sick. Politeness, indeed, that ruthless pioneer who, in his anxiety to make society a bowling-green, plays destructive work with its original and picturesque features, forbids all outward demonstrations of strong dislike towards any thing; and perhaps, as far as regards our dinners, this is quite as well. In good company, there is a general tacit agreement not to make faces when your next neighbour eats something which nearly turns you stomach; and I can view without apparent surprise or disgust, ragouts, steaming with garlic, fill the plate of a lady on my right, while the fair, delicate, lisping creature on my left elegantly conveys to her mouth small morsels of the putrid leg of a raw woodcock. Not a shudder escapes me; I merely pretend to be ungallantly interested in the less fragrant contents of my own plate, and turn my head as little as possible when obliged to reply to the remarks of my neighbours.

The ineffectual attempts of a dentist to extract a lady's decayed tooth occasioned from her French admirer the following rather curious compliment :-" C'est que rien de mauvais ne peut sortir de votre bouche." Would that it could be said that "rien de mauvais" enters the mouths of our young ladies: the old ones may do as they please; but to see half-maggoty venison and decomposed game find their way to the fresh rosy lips of a pretty girl, produces as uncomfortable a shock as a wrong note in the most touching part of one of Mozart's songs. But if such is the effect on my prosaic mind, how distracting must be the sight to a poet! A mass of agreeable associations is at "one fell swoop" destroyed, and his vocabulary spoiled of a host of favourite images; the new-inade hay, the violet's perfume, and the breeze of early morn, will no longer suggest to him the same pleasing comparisons: he dares no longer sing of the "balmy treasure" of rosy lips-the connexion of "breath all incense" with "cheek all bloom" is for ever destroyed-and for him the bees have sipped their last nectar from their old-established storehouse of sweets. This is, however, a free country, and the ladies may eat offal if they please, or stain their teeth black

like the Siamese women, or stick bones in their under lips, like those of Prince William's Sound. The gentlemen could have no redress, but might perhaps be driven to introduce the ancient custom of kissing by touching ears, or the New Zealand one of bringing noses into contact instead of lips. But to return to our proverb:—from morn to night we are each of us making our meat of other men's poison, or our poison of their meat. The most insignificant things minister to the amusement of some among us. One collects shells, another butterflies; one dabbles in a ditch for an almost invisible insect, or grubs in a hedge for an inconspicuous flower, and goes tired and dirty home to dry his nondescript, in a triumph of success little inferior to the raptures of Archimedes when he ran naked out of the bath, or of Herschell when he discovered the Georgium Sidus. How much pleasure would be lost, if these pursuits delighted no one! How much confusion created, if the whole population of London poured out at once to fight in ponds and lands for rare insects and curious plants! The conversation in the drawing-room might be delightfully harmonious when all were uniting in praise of Botany or Entomology; but what would be the consequence when all were struggling for the same specimen? How many duels would the chace of a purple emperor occasion! and

"Hearts that the world in vain had tried,
And sorrow but more closely tied,
That stood the storm when waves were rough,
Would in a sunny hour fall off,"

because the "sunny hour" would bring out the butterflies.

But if a variety of taste in things is beneficial, how great is its advantage as to persons! "Fair is not fair, but that which pleaseth ;" and "fancy passes beauty;" are two proverbs, the truth of which should be gratefully acknowledged by a large proportion of mankind.

"Only think of that mawkin being my son's passion," said the Electress Sophia, speaking of George the First's mistress, the Duchess of Kendal, who was neither handsome nor clever; and some such depreciating remark not unfrequently passes our mind when we are introduced by our friend to the bride of whom we have heard so much, and search in vain for personal or intellectual perfections in her who has been described to us as "sovereign to all the creatures on the earth." On such occasions, what have we to do but to recollect, that "non è bello quel ch' è bello, ma è bello que che piace." It is impossible to judge of the degree of estimation in which persons, to us extremely unpleasing, may be held in their own little circle. I remember once travelling in a public conveyance with a female, who seemed

to connect in herself every thing that is disagreeable and repulsive-the most unprepossessing countenance; the most absurd and unsuitable dress, in which poverty and finery mingled; manners at once vulgar and affected; a loud harsh voice, and an inexhaustible flow of silly and conceited chatter. As the coach stopped to set her down, the thought involuntarily passed my mind-" how sorry they must be you are come!"-when, lo! to rebuke my rash judgment, out rushed a whole party of anxious expectants, and, amidst showers of welcomings and embraces, my travelling companion passed in triumph along the little gravel-walk which led to the house, leaving me to admire that bounteous arrangement which had converted my poison into others' sugar-plum. If, therefore, we are sometimes annoyed by the absurd tastes of our acquaintance, and inclined to wish that every body were as wise as ourselves, let us recollect that this difference of opinion is the fertile source of a thousand blessings to society and individuals, and that multitudes are indebted for the whole happiness of their lives to the very principle which makes our tiresome neighbour cut his trees into cocks and hens.

ASSOCIATION.†

To enumerate the various ways in which association works, would be to sum up so many occasions which it gives for disturbing gravity, stirring rebellion against things serious, and playing the very devil with the decencies of life. To this faculty we must attribute the lamentable tendency in which mankind indulge, of making odious comparisons. A blockhead cannot be inducted into the chancellor of the exchequer's chair without suggesting a recollection of the great financiers who have held that office before him—and thus making the victim of the comparison appear less than he really may be, by the contrast between some bygone giant of arithmetic and his dwarfish

self.

The mischievous imp, association, is constantly at work, operating by direct contraries. Not only the most innocent phrases thus become converted into sarcasms; but it is impossible for a plain-spoken, singlehearted country gentleman to venture upon a speech at a county meeting, retailing the opinions of his grandmother, without conjuring up ideas the very reverse of his intentions, confuting himself, and incurring an unjust suspicion of wicked irony and malice aforethought against his

+ Ibid.

most favourite predilections. If, for example, he talks of the "wisdom of parliament"-which was once a good and loyal phrase, and in which his grandmother, in common with her contemporaries, most potently believed, his hearers will burst forth in a horse-laugh at his expense, and accuse him incontinently of quoting Cobbett. If he speaks of " the representatives of the people," association will suppose him to have an eye to Old Sarum; and if he mentions the piety, moderation, and humility of his spiritual pastors and masters, his auditors will at once set him down for being desirous to relieve his estates from the burthen of tithes. It is owing to this operation of the human mind that the words "just and necessary war" have fallen into such irretrievable ill repute, and have come to signify an abominable crusade against human liberty; that "legitimate government" means open tyranny; and a legitimate king" a despot reigning in defiance of the public will, and by the force of foreign bayonets: so, too, "religion" has grown to mean pluralities, and a "friend of social order" has become synonymous for a pickpocket on the great scale. A "man of honour" no longer intends a man above reproach, a chevalier sans tache, but a person who dares justify any thing, and who, having outraged public decency, or private feeling, has no hesitation, by way of atonement, to commit murder. "A saint" naturally and truly signifies an apostle-a martyr, a man of unblemished morals and pure religion; but this lucus-anon-lucendo mode of association translates it at once into an atrocious bigot, or a disgusting hypocrite. Just so it has made a "merchant" a gambler; "play," business; and "sporting," butchery. On the other hand, it has taught words of doubtful or vituperative signification to become applicable to things intrinsically laudable, and of good esteem. Thus, few persons now hesitate to rejoice in the appellation of Radical; and even Jacobin and Carbonari are terms which honest men do not wholly repudiate. This often makes it very uncertain what a speaker designs by his use of language. When we hear of a Tory, it is necessary to know something of the party who applies the epithet, to decide whether he predicates a royalist or a rebel, a stickler for divine right, or a parliamentary reformer;-when a man professes himself a Brunswicker, there is some reason for suspecting that he would give you to understand that he wishes the House of Hanover at Jericho. Need it be added, that the words

unpaid magistracy" may thus be mistaken as representing a class of distributors of justice which costs the country more than its highest stipendiaries; and that " nulli vendemus" is good Latin for a stamp upon law proceedings ? In the same uncertainty is