THE SAILOR'S JOURNAL. Hove out of Portsmouth on board the Brittania Fly-a swift sailor-an outside berth-rather drowsy the first watch or two-like to have slipt off the stern-cast anchor at the George, took a fresh quid, and a supply of grog comforted the upper worksspoke several homeward-bound frigates on the road-and, after a tolerable voyage, entered the port of London at ten minutes past 5, P.M. Steered to Nan's lodgings-unshipped my cargo-Nan admired the shiners-so did landlord gave them a handful a-piece-emptied a bowl of the right sort, with landlord, to the health of Lord Nelson—all three set out for the play got a berth in a cabin on the larboard side-wanted to smoak a pipe, but the boastwain would'nt let me-Nan, I believe, called the play Poll-zaro, with Harlekin-Hamlet-but' d-me if I know stem from stern-remember to rig out Nan like the fine folk in the cabin right a-headsaw Tom Pink aloft in the corner of the upper deck-hailed him-the signal returned-some of the lubbers in the cock-pit began to laugh-tipt 'em a little forecastle lingo till they sheer'd off-emptied the grog bottle-fell fast asleep-dreamt of the battle of Camperdown-my landlord told me the play was over-d-n'd glad of itcrowded sail for a hackney coach-got on board-squally weather-rather in-. clined to be sea-sick-arrived at Nan's lodgings-gave the pilot a two-pound note-told him not to mind the change -supped with Nan, and swung in the same hammock-looked over my rhino in the morning-great deal of it to be sure-but I hope, with the help of a few friends, to spend every shilling of it in a little time, to the honour and glory of OLD ENGLAND.

ISLINGTON WORTHIES. Here is Mr. Quick, who can scarcely walk,

Mrs. White a decided tawney; And Rhodes is supported by milk and chalk,

And Miss Hogg is too lean to be brawney;

Mr. Flower's a flourishing Aaron's Rod,

Hogarth's a garden-painter, French out of Britain has never trod,

And Miss Rose than a lily is fainter. Bracebridge an arch has never made, Smith never beaten an anvil; Miller knows nought of the floury trade, And Stock still will never be stand

still;

Here's Mr. Fox without a tail,

Thomson who is no poet, Cooper who cannot make a pail,

And Sell who will not show it. Draper has never dealt in cloth,

Excepting his profession, Armstrong has never killed a moth, Or Garret kept possession. Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, have ne'er

Been scribes in sacred writ
Water's so dry, he covets beer,
And Lack entraps with wit;
Jolly is sick, Gay is sad,

Badger's a gentle fellow;
Goode, like his name, is rarely bad,
Or Pearman ever mellow.

I've hosts of others left in store→→→
Anon, I'll ring their changes,
When memory flings their pleasures
o'er,

And fancy round them ranges;
For Islington contains such folks

As love with friends to mingleTo please the married with the jokes, And marry all the single. Islington. J. R. P.

'THE LATE MR. NOLLEKENS. In private life, Mr. Nollekens was considered penurious. It frequently happens, however, that parsimony in trifling matters, is found to be perfectly compatible with generosity in things of moment. It was so in a great degree with Mr. Nollekens. While he would hesitate to give half-a-crown to the servant who had brought him a haunch of venison from his friend the late Lord Yarborough, he would not scruple to put five pounds into the hands of any distressed applicant whom he thought deserving of relief. Numerous examples might be adduced of his liberality in this respect. He had formerly an uncle who lived in France, to whom he allowed 30l. per annum; and at various times he admitted regular pensioners on his bounty. The following anecdote affords further and very pleasing proofs of the great kindness of his disposition.

A Mr. R- formerly well known as the publisher of some valuable antiquarian works, was for many years in habits of intimacy with Mr. N. One day he called at Mr. N.'s study, and appearing much depressed, Mr. Nollekens asked what was the matter. He complained of faintness and extremely low spirits; on which Mr. N. said, "Go to the pump, and get a glass of cold water." The poor fellow turned away with a big tear standing in his eye at such apparently unfeeling advice. This silent reproach, though unobserved by Nollekens, was noticed by Mr. Smith (the father of the present keeper of the prints in the British Museum), who was at that time Mr. Nollekens' principal assistant. Immediately after the retirement of Mr. RMr. Smith told Mr. Nollekens that he had unnecessarily wounded the feelings of a distressed man. Nollekens, who had really recommended the cold water as the best remedy for low spirits, because it was that to which he himself had constantly had recourse, was shocked to think that he could have been so misunderstood, and went directly to the house of Mr. R-, whom he found, no doubt, indulging in bitter reflections on his old croney's unkindness. "Tell me what's the matter," said Nollekens; "I recommended cold water to you not from indifference, but as the best advice I could give you. Tell me as a friend the cause of your affliction." He immediately laid open his situation, and it appeared that he had outlived the de

mand for his works, and that his circumstances would compel him to quit a house in which he had resided for thirty years, and in which he had hoped to die. Nollekens urged the propriety of his giving up the house, and retiring to cheap lodgings. This advice increased Mr. R.'s distress, which Nolleken's perceiving, thus closed the conversation" Well, well, remain in the house; keep your old study, and what other rooms you want; let out the rest; and here, take this (giving twenty guineas, twisted up in a paper, and evidently prepared for the purpose); and, mind, I will send you the same sum every year while you live." Mr. Nollekens kept his word.

THE HOUSEWIFE.
No. XIV.

MEDICAL QUALITIES OF
POTATOES.

The proportion of starch contained in the potatoe varies according to the species, but it is frequently as high as 18 per cent. Analysis also discovers a considerable portion of sugar, water, and a peculiar vegetable juice, even in the driest sorts. The waxy sorts, which are only, we believe, relished in Lon don, seemed to contain less farinaceous matter than the Irish or Scots potatoes. The introduction of the potatoe was long opposed, like many other useful things, by vulgar prejudice, which was first effectually weakened by Louis XV. wearing a bunch of the flower on a festival day, in the midst of his Court, a circumstance that soon attracted attention to its qualities. It is not to be concealed, however, that the potatoe, as it belongs to the family of the Night-shades, must have some of the qualities of a narcotic poison; and accordingly we find that Dr. Latham has tried an extract, prepared from the leaves and flowers, by Mr. Hume, of Long Acre, which in the small quantity of two or three grains, acts as an anodyne, and a double dose produces stupor and giddiness.

Like Cassava, however, the potatoe, if it possesses a narcotic juice in a raw state, most certainly loses it by the processes of cooking, and becomes one of the most easily digested and nourishing articles of vegetable food, which is not apt, like other vegetables, to produce viscidity and flatulence, though, when used for the whole diet, as it

often is among the poor, it is apt to weaken and relax the bowels. Cobbett calls it the "Root of Misery." The celebrated chemist, Parmentier, for an experiment, lived exclusively on potatoes for a month, without the least effect on his health. The ease and rapidity with which potatoes are digested, is proved by the remark of labouring people, who sooner feel a renewal of their appetite after them, than any other sort of food.

Potatoes are most wholesome when either plainly boiled, steamed, baked in an oven with their skins on, or roasted in an iron pot. By all of these methods the coarse rank juice is either extracted or ameliorated, and the farinaceous part rendered mealy and palatable. By most other methods of dressing, their nutritious and digestible properties are more or less injured. Mashed or beat potatoes, for example, form a tough paste, which contains a great proportion of air, beat into the mass while it is preparing, and confined by the tenacity of the potatoes. During digestion this air is disengaged, and occasions an unpleasant flatulence. Potatoes cooked under a roast, or roasted or fried with butter or dripping, have their farinaceous qualities much injured, and the brown crust usually formed on them, however palatable and savoury it may be, is very indigestible, in consequence of partial charing, and of the empyreumatic oil which it contains. This will often derange even the most vigorous stomach, and ought never to be touched by the weak. Soup made with potatoes is not so flatulent nor indigestible as pease soup. New potatoes, though an agreeable dish, contain very little of the nutritive farina of the mature roots, being chiefly composed of mucilaginous matter, water, and sugar.

Neither potatoes nor any other vegetable dish, with the exception of pease soup, ought ever to be warmed up after standing over from a preceding meal, as in such cases they will always be more or less unwholesome.

When mixed with flour, potatoes are much used to increase the quantity of bread at a cheap rate, and it has now become a common practice with bakers. In Scotland they are kneaded with oatmeal or barley flour, and cakes made from the mixture. From the Irish peasantry living chiefly on the potatoe, and their being proverbially prolific, it has been thought that they

are aphrodisiac, or perhaps the opinion may have arisen from Falstaff, in the Merry Wives of Windsor, when he says, "let the sky rain potatoes," though his allusion is to the sweet potatoe, a very different vegetable, now little used. We do not, however, think potatoes possess any specific aphrodisiac power, except by being nutritive.

FRAUDS IN SOAP.

The test of good soap is that it be hard, very firm, and without any rancid or tallowy smell. If any of this smell can be observed, there has been an under portion of the soda or potash used in the manufacture, and very probably a quantity of fuller's earth added to conceal the imperfection. Rancid tallow, besides, often used for cheapness in soap and candle-making, has had a portion of its substance quite destroyed by putrefaction, and the material it is used for is of course deteriorated. This fraud is, we are informed, more usually practised in making white and mottled soap, than in the other sorts.

Another test of considerable impor. tance in buying soap, is to observe the quantity of water it contains. You require not to buy water at the rate of eight-pence a pint from your chandler, though you do so to a great amount annually, if you buy his soap, however cheap, in a soft state, as it is water that renders it soft. This fraud is, by means of fuller's earth, &c. often carried to the extent of one half the weight. You would, consequently, be as cheap in the end by buying good hard soap at double the price of soft, tallowy, rancid stuff.

OXALIC ACID USED FOR PUNCH AND LEMONADE.. Both in Britain and on the Continent, oxalic acid is much used as a souring for punch, and for lemonade. Of course it is a cheap substitute for, and goes under the name of, essence of lemons, citric or tartaric acid. We assure our readers, on the faith of both experiment and experience, that however dangerous this adulteration may appear, it is but little, if at all injurious. In order to prove a poison, oxalic acid must be taken in considerable quantity-at least an ounce, or half an ounce:-Epsom salts themselves would be equally poisonous if taken in a very large dose. A large dose of sugar will

als prove poisonous, probably from its oxalic acid, as all oxalic acid is made from sugar-a circumstance not popularly known. The chief use of oxalic acid is in cleaning boot tops.

THE LOVERS' QUARREL.* The morning bright bathed in rosy light San Lucar's ample street, When Gazul drest in a snow-white vest Mounted his courser fleet; With purple and green and in golden sheen

His trappings and harness shone, Stately and loud and with champings proud

Caracoll'd his brave steed on.

At a mansion high with a balcony
Where a form of beauty stood
Like an angel fair in the clear blue air
On an errand of mortal good;
Gazul checks his rein, for the pride of
Spain

Was there in her matchless grace; On his soul she gleams, as the sun's

first beams

O'er a soft cloud's silvery face.

He lights on the ground with a warrior's bound,

And his knee to the earth is bent, But his gaze is above at the maid of his love,

From his heart's devotion sent:

From the gallant fête and in downoast

state

He back t'ward Grañada hies, While the sorrow and pain that madden his brain

Gush forth in his humid eyes. But the fairest frame that may chill love's flame

With the fear of a rival's art, Will ofttimes see that, like ghaunt envy,

She preys on her own torn heart. Ere evening was near, after many a tear

Paid by burning love to pride, Zelinda once more from her chamberdoor

Calls her page to her couch's side."My eyes overflow, haste, my dear page, go

To Gazul the Moorish knight, Say Zelinda will wait at her gardengate

At the hour of pale moonlight.Yet stay-oh, no! yes, my good page,

go."

Then she call'd him back as fast As her pride prevail'd and love's impulse fail'd,

But she sent him away at last. The moon slept sweet on San Lucar's street,

And the trembling stars were bright,

show,

O vision of hope to me!

hís soul,

Through the shades of that lovely night.

nerve my arm

With the power of victory."

stands dumb

With the wicket in his hand :

rior-born

The star of Granada's land. Zelinda blush'd, but her voice was

hush'd

got drunk for the good of his country. He was commonly followed by a couple of greyhounds and a pointer; and announced his arrival at a neighbour's house by smacking his whip, or giving the view-halloo. A journey to London was, by one of these men, reckoned as great an undertaking as is at present a voyage to the East Indies, and undertaken with scarce less precaution and preparation."

The mansion of one of these squires was of plaster, striped with timber, not unaptly called calimanco-work; or of red brick, large casement bow winover it a study; the eaves of the house dows, a porch with seats in it, and well inhabited by swallows, and the court set round with hollyhocks; near the gate a horse-block for the conveniency of mounting.

The hall was furnished with flitches of bacon, and the mantle-piece with guns and fishing-rods of different dimensions, accompanied by the broadsword, partizan, and dagger, borne by his ancestor in the Civil Wars. The vacant spaces were occupied by stags'

morning hung

Like pearl in the eastern sky, And rock, tower, and tree, lay tranquilly

In their colourless nightly dye.To Gelves he went to the tournament, With his mistress' token and prayerCould he fear a blow from the boldest foe,

When Love was his armour there?

OBSOLETE CHARACTERS.

THE RURAL SQUIRE. Grove draws the following amusing portrait of the country squire of the early part of the last century. "I mean," says he, "the little independent gentleman, who commonly appeared in a plain drab or plush coat, large silver buttons, a jockey cap, and rarely without boots. His travels never exceeded the distance of the county town, and that only at Assize and Session time, or to attend an election. Once a week he commonly dined at the next market town, with the Attorneys and Justices. This man went to church regularly, read the Weekly Journal, settled the parochial disputes between the parish officers and the vestry, and afterwards adjourned to the neighbouring alehouse, where he usually

King Charles' Golden Rules, Vincent Wing's Almanack, and a portrait of the Duke of Marlborough. In his window lay Baker's Chronicle, Fox's Book of Martyrs, Glanville on Witches, Justice, and a book of Farriery. Quincey's Dispensatory, the Complete

was

The best parlour, which was never opened but on particular occasions, furnished with Turk-worked chairs, and hung round with portraits of his ancestors; the men in the characters of shepherds, with their crooks, dressed in full suits, and huge fullbottomed perukes; others in complete armour or buff coats, playing on the base-viol or lute. The females likewise as shepherdesses, with the lamb and crook, all habited in high heads and flowing robes.

Alas! these men and their houses are no more!

THE OLD ENGLISH YEOMAN.

Harrison, in his Introduction to Hollinshed's History of Great Britain, gives the following interesting definition of the substantial yeoman or farmer in Queen Elizabeth's days :

"This sort of people have a certaine preheminence, and more estimation than labourers and the common sort of artificers, and those commonlie live wealthilie, keepe good houses, and travell to get riches. They are also for