fresh beef; calls out for the fidlers, and Rule Britannia; pelts Tom Sikes in the pit; and compares Othello to the black ship's cook in his white night cap. When he comes to London, he and some messmates take a hackney-coach, full of Bet Monsons and tobacco-pipes, and go through the streets smoking and lolling out of window. He has ever been cautious of venturing on horseback; and among his other sights in foreign parts, relates with unfeigned astonishment how he has seen the Turks ride," Only," says he, guarding against the hearer's incredulity," they have saddle-boxes to hold 'em in, fore and aft; and shovels like for stirrups." He will tell you how the Chinese drink, and the Negurs dance, and the monkeys pelt you with cocoanuts; and how King Domy would have built him a mud hut and made him a peer of the realm, if he would have stopped with him and taught him to make trowsers. He has a sister at a "School for Young Ladies," who blushes with a mixture of pleasure and shame at his appearance; and whose confusion he completes, by slipping four-pence into her hand, and saying out loud that he has "no more copper" about him. His mother and elder sisters at home doat on all he says and does, telling him however that he is a great sea fellow, and was always wild ever since he was a hop-o'-my-thumb no higher than the window-locker. He tells his mother that she would be a Duchess in Paranaboo; at which the good old portly dame laughs and looks proud. When his sisters complain of his romping, he says that they are only sorry it is not the baker. He frightens them with a mask made after the New Zealand fashion, and is forgiven for his learning. Their mantle-piece is filled by him with shells and sharks' teeth; and when he goes to sea again, there is no end of tears, and God-bless-you's, and home-made gingerbread.

A COFFEE SHOP. "Avaunt, ye midnight hags!"

SHAKSPEARE.

AT the dreary hour of three, what a scene does a coffee shop present! It opens its gates to the pauper and the profligate, to the hireling Cyprian, and the libertine bent on fun, and on seeing what is called life! What a prostitution of the term! Does life consist in sleeping away the day, in visiting the five's-court, the billiard tables; in taverning it, and rioting it; in adding to the crimes of the mercenary frail one; in dissipating

a fortune at the hells and other gaming shops; and in making Rowbottom's, or some other coffee shop, the Finish of the idle twenty-four hours; the close of one space of existence, the links of which are dropping imperceptively from the chain which binds us to our body of clay? But let us pause a moment, and look at the company:-here a roofless prostitute foot, sore from walking her weary round, unhealthy and miserable, pennyless, and unsuccessful in vending her perilous and hacknied embraces. She cannot face the old fury in whose house she had lodged her week is up, and with it, her game is nearly the same; but she must rest her limbs, chilled with the damp air of night, for a few hours. "Will you treat me to a cup of coffee?" she is saying to a youth sitting near her. She obtains it

:

degraded nature is somewhat refreshed: perhaps the next comer in may give her what will pay her lodging, or she must again commence the march of infamy for a bit of bread, There you may behold the distracted apprentice gulping his dose of tea and sorrow together; the plunder table has just closed its wicked work, and he is told that they can play no. longer. His purse is reduced to his last shilling, and that shilling is not his own

he has to encounter a master, and must soon account for the money he has embezzled. Yet pity lurks in his wounded bosom, and he pays the night walker's breakfast for her. "Alas!" he may say to himself, "we shall soon be two outcasts, homeless, and without a friend, nay worse, the refuse of society, a character for the finger of scorn to point at, beings under the suspicious eye of the police. "Well, and what comes next? a reprobate of fashion, motionless, too drunk to get home, he must sleep it off: the eye of another Cyprian is on him; will she steal his heart? no, the powers of enchantment have faded away with her; paltry gain, and the grosser passions, are all within her power: if the profligate's purse is not already gone, it is in danger. Near him is a face of concealment, a doer of dark deeds; he must not alarm the neighbourhood with knocking at his gate, yet must he not meet the broad face of day, a glimmer of twilight must conduct him to his abode, and a whisper at the window must gain him admittance; he has done his work, and he is jealous of every glance falling on him from the surrounding circle. A shivering hag, whose trade is begging, occupies that nook; and in another sits a spy. Now the door opens to a self-destroying thing, who had once

"Four score acres of land,

With corn and cattle in store; And though he has noue at command, Yet still he's as gay as before."

his snuff to

Is he gay? that appearance is assumed: he laughs with the girls of the town, offers the surly cove, jokes, banters, makes ten times told puns, and depends upon his good humour,

To clothe and feed him."

He is seen to approach the bench where youth and inexperience sit, where the outward garb bespeaks the gentleman. His face wears a smile on seeing half-acrown changed by a young man, who looks as if he was let out from a house of intrigue, and cannot yet be let in by his aunt's house-maid,-this is a hit, a dead hit. The ci-devant gentleman quotes Shakspeare, Pope, and Addison, nay even speaks French. A place is made for him, he now sports a quotation from Horace, this gains him a cup of coffee; good, he rubs his hands-an anecdote, a second cup,-a worse pun than ever. But he has been schooled at Eton, and it is evident he has seen better days. His dress is that of a sporting man, but its hue and texture partook of the spider's web, and the faded leaf, the least rough usage would bring it to ruin The day approaches, he has had rest and slender food, and with his comb-case and shirt collar, his pencil and decayed tablets in his pocket, long a stranger to coin, he must remove his trunk (that of his body, and the only one which he has), and with it his little fortune. Has he a home?-I think not. An occupation? None. Au income? The wheel of chance. Perhaps he may borrow some silver of a green-horn; be asked to dine by an Leccentric, who can blame and pity at the same time; a happy anecdote may produce a pledged cup at a public house; or an act of urbanity to a fair cast-away may bring an invitation to call at her lodgings, to partake of a cup of tea, and a drop of jackey.-He must pay for both with a dish of flattery, or take her part if a watchman, insolent in office, should overstep his authority, and use her ill. What a fortune it would be to him, should a street-accident procure him a patron, to whom, in saving the man of money from being run over, he may tell his case-i. e. that his fortune is spent, and extract a pound, slowly and reluctantly parted with.-Is this life? 'tis daily death. Lastly, there lies a troubled spirit, he cannot sleep; how brief and disturbed too, is the short repose of the inany here! Without the shop, the plaintive voice of, "Will you go home with

me, my dear?" comes from a haggard, graceless, wayward sister. The watchman yawus out the remnant of his task; and the market gardener cracks his whip, impatient of the day. He can sleep, his rosy cheeks evince a calm contented mind, industry and toil smooth his pillow for him; but the gamester, and the nightrobber, the spendthrift and the prostitute, the outcast and the ruined, each of them -doth murder sleep,

The inuocent sleep, sleep that knits up
The ravel'd sleeve of care."

AND

THE FAMILY PHYSICIAN
DOMESTIC GUIDE.-No. IV.

FLATULENT COLIC.

FLATULENT COLIC is not unfrequently brought on by the patient's eating unripe fruit, and those kinds of food which are difficult of digestion. I have known it to arise from checked perspiration, and the like. This kind of colic is attended with a sensation of stretching of the part affected, which is either the stomach or the intestines; and the patient is usually relieved by certain natural occurrences; but the pain is not confined to any one part, for it seems, if I may use the expression, to rove about the intestines; and instances occur, where the head remains in violent and continued pain.

The plan I recommend persons labouring under this colic to pursue, is as follows:-If he considers the disease is caused by eating unripe fruit, or by drinking liquors in an actual state of fermentation, &c. he may take a little good brandy, perhaps the quantity of a table spoonful twice or thrice repeated, will be sufficient: he must apply warmth to the feet, and foment the part affected. This kind of treatment will be usually successful, where no inflammation exists; but where this has taken place, he must not, on any account, be suffered to take spirits, or any thing of a hot and irritating nature. Were he to be imprudent enough to act in opposition to this advice, a dreadful aggravation of the complaint would ensue. In such an instance, he ought to keep himself low, endeavour to excite perspiration, and take gentle evacuants; and indeed, if the violence of the disease does not go off by this means, treatment more bold and decided must we have recourse bleeding will be of great service,-and, indeed, the whole of the antiphlogistic remedies must be called into action if all inflammatory symptoms do not speedily give way.

to:

The cure being completed, the patient must not be premature in returning to those foods causing flatulency and irritation of the bowels. By such imprudent and childish indulgence, I have seen instances of a return of the colic in a very severe degree.

Some people are frequently troubled with slight attacks of flatulent colic: in these cases, a glass of strong peppermint-water will often given ease; and, if the bowels are not in an actual state of constipation, we may venture to give a tea spoonful of the compound tincture of camphor, once or twice during the

attack.

W. B.

(We shall endeavour to give Hysteric and Nervous Colic in our next.)

To Change the Hair or Beard Black. TAKE oil of costus and myrtle, of each an ounce and a half, mix them well in a leaden mortar; add liquid pitch, expressed juice of walnut leaves and laudanam, of each half an ounce; gall nuts, black-lead, and frankincense, of each a drachm; and a sufficient quan-> tity of mucilage of gum-arabic made with a decoction of gall-nuts.

Rub the head, or the chin, after shaving, with this mixture.

A Fluid to Dye the Hair of a Flaxen Colour.

TAKE a quart of lye prepared from the ashes of vine twigs; briory, celandine roots, and turmeric, of each half an ounce; saffron and lily roots, of each two drachms; flowers of mullein, yellow stechas, broom, and St. John's-wort, of each a drachm; boil these ingredients together, and strain off the liquor clear. Frequently wash the hair with this fluid, and in a little time it will change to a beautiful flaxen colour.

A Remedy for Corns on the Feet. ROAST a clove of garlic on a live coal, or in hot ashes: apply it to the corn and fasten it on with a piece of cloth. This cosmetic (to use the expression) must

not be made use of till the moment of going to bed. It softens the corn to such a degree, that it loosens and wholly removes the core in two or three days, however inveterate; afterwards wash the foot with warm water; iu a little time the indurated skin, that forms the horny tunic of the corn, will disappear, and leave the part as clean and smooth as if it had never been attacked with any disorder. It is right to renew this application two or three times in twenty-four hours.

LEGAL WIT.

LORD NORBURY was asking the reason of the delay that happened in a cause, and he was answered, it was because Mr. Serjeant Joy, who was to lead, was absent, but Mr. Hope, the Solicitor, had said that he would return immediately: when his Lordship humourously repeated the well known lines,

"Hope told a flattering tale,

That Joy would soon return."

BAR ANECDOTE.

"WHAT have you got to say, old Bacon-face? said a Counsellor to a Farmer, at a late Cambridge Assizes. "Why," answered the Farmer, "I am thinking, my Bacon-face and your Calfs'head would make a very good dish!"

LOGICAL CONSEQUENCES.

the barrister, was told that he had left few AN attorney having died, Mr. Jekyll, effects. "I am not surprised at that," said the witty barrister, "for we all know he had few causes."

EPITAPH.

Here lies my dear wife, a sad slattern and shrew,→→

If I said I regretted her, I should lie

too.

TO CORRESPONDENTS. WE thank J. T. S. for his commendations, as well as his poetry, although we must decline the latter: we are sorry he mistook our silence for acquiescence. We have not as yet been able to decide on the merits of his "Scotch Tale."

"A Love Letter," from a Pedantic Schoolmaster, will be inserted.

Garden; and Love, by G. J. L.; a My Lover; Description of Covent Mothers' Lament; Sufferings of a Post Horse; and the Kiss, by J. T. Dobbs, are not suited for our pages.

"Night," by H. M. J., will be inserted. We have not as yet decided on his other

contributions.

We e presume that M. had not seen our reply to her previous application. We can only now re-assure her, that her contributions will be as acceptable as ever.

We cannot answer J. I.'s question, till we have seen the drawing he speaks of.

The first part of Gerald's communication has not as yet been received from the former Proprietor.

Titles, and a General Index, will be given at the close of the Volume.

PURSUING our journey last summer from the Giant's Causeway, round the northern coast of Ireland to Belfast, our attention was particularly attracted by the ruins of a small square tower in the open sea, at the foot of Ballygally Head, about three miles from the harbour of Larne; relative to which we learned the following traditionary romance from the peasants of the neighbourhood.

At that period when each petty prince in Ireland reigned supreme over his own territory, and was constantly at variance with one another, or with his Scottish neighbours, Mac Fionne, chieftain of that part of the kingdom_now called VOL. III. July 31.

ib.

256

ib.\ ib.

Antrim, being on his way to an entertainment given by the prince of the next county, accompanied by his daughter Comala, so called from her long hair, his only child, and heiress to his extensive territory, and attended only by a few domestics, was suddenly set upon by a band of armed men under the command of O'Doherty, prince of Innishuna, to whom he had refused the lovely Comala in marriage. Having quickly formed his followers in a circle, and placed his daughter in the centre, they made a brave but ineffectual resistance, every one of his attendants being killed upon the spot, and himself severely wounded. No. 76.-Price 2d.

O'Doherty, instantly seizing the terrified Comala, and placing her before him on his horse, bore the shrieking damsel off in triumph. Roused by the cries of suffering beauty, a young Scotch warrior boldly encountered the cruel chief, and commanded him to release the lady. O'Doherty, instantly resigning his beauteous charge to his attendants, prepared in person to chastise the presumptuous Highlander. The unequal combat lasted above twenty minutes, when at last the well-directed claymore pierced the Irish chieftain's heart. His followers instantly ran to support the bleeding body of their prince; and not less swiftly flew the victorious Scot to succour and revive the fainting Comala, with offers of his service to conduct her in safety to her friends. Scarcely had the youthful warrior placed his fair companion within the gates of Ballygally castle, until her father arrived, supported by some peasants of the neighbourhood, who found him faint and exhausted by the loss of blood: with the most heartfelt joy he embraced the deliverer of his only child, and entreated him to remain and protect the castle until he himself should be com

pletely recovered. In a period of six weeks, during which time Mac Fionne was confined by the wounds he had received, the young couple, being constantly together, imbibed the warmest attachment for each other. As soon as Mac Fionne was sufficiently recovered, the North Highlander requested an audience of the chief, and, acknowledging himself to be Angus M'Donald, laird of Cantire, entreated the hand of the long-haired Comala in marriage, by which alliance he trusted the feuds so long subsisting between their families would from hence forth be prevented. The moment Mac Fionne's rage permitted him the power of utterance, he ordered the young laird to be seized, and cast into the keep. Resistance was in vain, and the brave M'Donald was cast into the deepest dun geon of the castle. Having thrown himself on a truss of straw left for his bed, and planning many modes of revenging himself on the treacherous Mac Fionne, he was disturbed about midnight by the drawing the bolts and fastenings of his door. Resolved to sell his life as dear as possible, he seized the bar of iron to which the lamp had been suspended, and placed himself in a corner of the vault, but to his surprise but one man entered, cautiously, with a dark lanthern in his band. M'Donald instantly demanded the occasion of his intrusion; when the old man replied, that he was foster

father to the long-haired Comala, who had sent him to give liberty and assurance of her unalterable attachment to the noble Scot. Having said this, he gave the young laird a sword, and desired him to follow cautiously to the shore, where a boat waited to convey him to his own territory, and in a few hours the Highland chief landed safe on the Mull of Cantire. Meanwhile Mac Fionne, enraged at the obstinacy of his daughter, whom he had resolved to marry to her cousin, that the estates should not go from his own family, built a small square tower of great strength (consisting of but two rooms), on a rock in the sea, at the foot of the headland about a quarter of a mile from his own castle, and so situated that any boat approaching it on either side could be instantly sunk by stones thrown from the rocky headland which overlooked it; in the upper room of which he confined his daughter, to whom he sent provisions every morning by the two men who kept watch in the lower room, and who were relieved every twenty-four hours, as he would trust no woman near her. M'Donald, at length rendered desperate, determined to go alone to the coast of Ireland, and reconnoitre the prison of his beloved Comala; and under cover of the night, having embarked in his lonely boat, in a few hours he reached Comala's tower. Emboldened by the stillness all around, he ventured to sing a song which often his Comala had admired; and, ere it was finished, he heard the casement open, and her dear voice joined in the wellknown lay. Transported with delight, he landed on the barren rock, and quickly informed his faithful mistress, that her loved Angus was below, and entreated her to lower some rope or cord, that he might by its assistance be able to gain the window, where, by forcing off the grating, (as her guards were asleep), she might effect her escape. Comala, being sensible that nothing of the kind was possible to be obtained, was quite at a loss how to act, until by some accident her far-famed tresse s became entangled in the bars of the window, and fell dishevelled on her shoulders. Instantly struck by the idea, she lowered them to her lover, telling him at the same time, that it was the only way he could ascend. There being no alternative, the noble chief, carefully seizing her lovely tresses, by their assistance gained the window, and, having wrenched off the grating, bore away in silent triumph the only child and heiress of the great Mac Fionne, in right of which marriage the M'Donalds are still lords of Antrim.

J. D.