was brought to the doctor in the cockpit, to have his lower arm taken off. This was speedily done, and the man consigned by the doctor's order to his hammock. In a very short time after, on going along the gun-deck, he, to his amazement, saw his patient at his station, and roughly expostulated with him on his imprudence. The seaman's answer was worthy of a Briton: " If it had been a leg, you see, Doctor, I couldn't, but, as it is, I am able to stand by my gun; and you would not have me skulk, while others are exposed and doing their duty!" Nagle, the name of this gallant Irish doctor, when the action was (triumphantly) over, addressed the Admiral in command, stating the bold tar's name and noble conduct: adding that he hoped that the man would be placed on a high list of seamen pensioned off; but that if he were not so distinguished, he would himself retire from the navy, and forego his claims to remuneration for long services, sooner than know a brave man neglected. The seaman had, I think he said, two shillings and sixpence a day for life. These surgeons at least were not hard-hearted, or coarse-minded men. Page 296, vol. i. "That a man with small skill in physic, and hardly any learning, should by vile acts get into practice," &c. This is meant by Mandeville as a portrait of the famous Doctor Radcliffe. Page 353, vol. i. "Let us pitch upon a hundred poor men, the first we can light on, that are above forty, and were brought up to hard labour from their infancy; such as never went to school at all, and always lived remote from knowledge, and great towns. Let us compare to these an equal number of very good scholars, that shall have had University education, and be, if you will, half of them divines," &c. So far Mandeville, who goes on to say that the best virtues, social and domestic, are to be found among the former; and scarcely any thing but vice in the ranks of the great, and the independent. Probably no deliberate assertion, or even conjecture, was ever more erroneous than this: the reverse is more likely to be true. Indigence makes crime; and then, character, or repute, is of incalculably greater moment to the foremost and more conspicuous members of society, than it is to the humble and obscure. Page 376, vol. i. "How whimsical is the florist in his choice! Sometimes the tulip, sometimes the auricula, and at other times the coronation shall engross his esteem." This is a strange blunder, if it be Mandeville's. He means carnation; a flower so called from the resemblance of its colour to that of healthy flesh. In his second volume, Mandeville appears in a new, and in fact a much more brilliant light, than in the first part of "The Fable of the Bees." Still caustic and severe, and looking with rare acuteness into human nature, he is yet occasionally highly refined, and happy both in thought and expression. Nothing, for instance, can be more elegant than Horatio's account of the Opera, pages 14, 15. His opinions are, however, sometimes extravagant. Page 347, he says, "the true and only mint of words and phrases is the Court; and the polite part of every nation are in possession of the jus et norma loquendi." This appears to me a great error in the author. In the case referred to, (the refinement of language,) the Stage would seem to be the governing power; because the play-wright and the actor are liable to immediate correction; not so the parliamentary Orator, the Preacher, or the Barrister. CONFESSIONS OF AN ENGLISH OPIUM- His This is one of the most interesting and extraordinary little works ever published in England. It contains learning, wit, and eloquence, in superabundance; tinctured, nevertheless, with what may be termed the two-fold madness of the author. juvenile eccentricity of character, supposing him serious in his narratives, evidently borders on insanity; and in his book, the fury of ebriety seems to pervade his style of expression and thinking. For passages of eloquent composition, the reader curious in matters of the kind is referred to pages 173-4, et seq., of the first edition, London, 1822. Whatever truth there may be in this autobiography of the opium-eater, there surely is great exaggeration in the author's description of some of the effects of the drug in question. I know nothing of its influence from personal experience; but have conversed with many who have used the medicine with advantage, under the direction of a physician. From one of these, who practised during several years in a large city, I got an amusing account of an opium-eating lady. It appears that she was a woman of some distinction, kept much company in the best circles of society, and was welcome wherever she went, for her vivacity of manner, her selection of cheerful topics, and the brilliancy of her language. At length she had occasion to consult the doctor, who inquired minutely into her habits, and prescribed accordingly; saying that she must particularly shun the use of opiates. She then confessed that for a series of years she had never gone into company without first swallowing a small dose of opium; that to this practice she was indebted for her reputation as a witty and agreeable companion; and that if she must leave it off, she would at the same time withdraw into remote and rural seclusion, and settle as far as possible from all her former associates, and among strangers, who would feel no surprise at her silence and stupidity. She put her plan into execution in an old-fashioned village of North Devon, where she sojourned for the rest of her days, remarkable only for going regularly to the parish church, liberal alms-giving, and taciturnity. I had a near relative who had lived long as a military man in the East Indies, and held an important command there during Lord Clive's celebrated cam с paigns in those regions. He was a man of talents, spoke and wrote with peculiar force, and often entertained me with vigorous and graphic delineations of the battles, sieges, and fatigues he had shared in. Once, on my asking if he had acquired a relish for the regular use of opium, so common among the inhabitants of a hot climate, he said he had not, and for that reason, when he did use it, enjoyed its effects the more highly. On one occasion, he said, he had particular reasons for recollecting the magical effects of the drug. He had, during the greater part of a burning day, been severely engaged in an action with the French and Indian forces, which ended in a total defeat of the enemy. Then, however, he found himself sinking under the united consequences of personal fatigue and mental exertion; having suffered the utmost agitation from the weight of responsibility which, as commanding officer, he had to sustain, and the alarms he naturally felt at the possibility of failure. Now-all was changed, and he might lie down to repose himself, with the consciousness of having done his duty successfully, and ensured the approbation of the commander-in-chief and of the army. He therefore, having first, at the suggestion of a regimental surgeon, swallowed a considerable quantity of opium, went to bed; and there, his sensations, as he described them, were unaccountably delightful. Every object of his fancy was, as it were, rose-coloured; while yet only half asleep, his reveries were visions of heaven; and that state |