snake lay coiled on the very altar stone! I could have wept to see such changes.

Before I proceed to finish my adventures, there is one particular story of the massacre of Scio which I must tell you, because it is not generally known, and because I can answer for its authenticity, having seen the villains before the scowl and flush of anger were off their countenances, and having heard the recital as it fell, without one expression of relenting or remorse, from the lips of the murderers. A party of about a dozen Turks had taken, among other female captives, a young lady of extreme beauty, and could not agree to whose lot she should fall, each being inflamed with a desire of possessing so fair a prize, and determined not to relinquish her to another. After a long and violent altercation they grew furious, and were drawing their arms to fight among themselves, when one of them proposed, that, as they could not all obtain her, nobody should, and that, to prevent further quarrelling, they should shoot her. This being unani mously agreed to, the barbarians went into the room where the poor creature was, already well nigh dead with fear; each of them discharged his pistol at her, and left her a disfigured corse.

I now, Sir, come to the night on which our brave Canaris took his sigual vengeance on the Turks for the cruelties they had committed, and were then committing, against us. A terrible night, Sir, it was. When I look back to it, it seems like some horrible dream; such a dream as might visit a guilty soul, when labouring under remorse of conscience, and the dread of everlasting perdition; a vision. of the day of judgment; a scene of the deep abyss of unquenchable flame, from which may the Virgin and saints deliver us! The Turkish fleet was lying quietly and unsuspectingly at anchor off Scio, on a fine night, in the month of June; the hour was waxing very late; the coffee-shops on board had ceased to give out the chibouques and cups; the Turks were reposing, huddled together like sheep, on the decks; the Captain Pasha had retired to his splendid cabin, his officers had followed his example; no regular watch being ever kept on board a Turkish man of war. I, and a few Greek lads, still lingered on the upper deck, and, for want of better amusement, were watching the progress of a dark sail, which we saw emerge from the Spalmadore Islands, and bear down the channel in our direction. She came stilly on, approaching us nearer and nearer, and we kept gazing at her, without, however, apprehending any thing, until we saw another sail in sight, and perceived that the vessel we had first made out was hauling up in such a manner as would soon bring her right alongside our lofty three-decker. I then ventured to go below and speak to one of the Turkish officers. This gentleman cursed me for disturbing him, called me a fool, and after speaking disrespectfully of the mother that bore me, grumbled out that they must be merchant vessels from Smyrna, turned himself on his other side, and fell again to sleep. Still the suspicious ship came on nearer and nearer; I spoke to some of the men, who replied much in the same manuer as the officer had done, wondering what I had got into my head, to be running about breaking people's rest at such a time of the night. What more could I do?

When I again ascended the quarter deck, the vessel was close astern -within hail. She was a large brig, as black as Satan, but not a soul could I see on board except the man at the helm. Of my own accord, I cried out to them to hold off, or he would be split to pieces against us. No answer was returned, but, favoured by a gentle breeze, on came the brig, silent and sombre as the grave. Whilst fixing my eyes intently on these incomprehensible proceedings, I saw the helmsman leave his post, having secured his tiller hard a-port-the next instant I heard a noise like that made by the manning of oars-then I saw a boat drop astern from under the lee of the brig—and ere I could again draw breath, the brig struck violently against our side, to which (by means I could not then conceive) she became at once attached like a crab, or the many-armed polypus. Before one third of the slumbering Turks were aroused, before a dozen of them had seized their pikes and spars to detach the dangerous neighbour-she exploded!-A discharge a fire-a shock, like the mighty eruption of some vast volcano, rose from the dark, narrow bosom, and quickly she was scattered in minute fragments, high in the astonished, but placid heavens, wide over the sea, and among our decks and rigging-destroyed herself in the act of destroying, though we could see the hands that had directed and impelled the movement of the dreadful engine pulling fast away in the boat. They might have taken it more coolly, for the Turks had other matters to think of, than pursuing them—our ship was on a blaze -the flames were running like lightning along our rigging, and had seized on so many parts at once, that the confused crew knew not where to direct their attention. The Captain Pasha rushed upon deck like a man who had heard the sound of the last trumpet; he did not, however, lose much time in beating his forehead and tearing his beard; he proceeded with great firmness of mind to give judicious orders, but the fire was too widely spread, and the consternation of the crew too excessive to admit of any good being done. While he gave commands to intercept the flames that were already playing down the main-topmast, he heard the cry from below, that the lower deck was on fire, and numbers of his men rushed by him and leaped into the sea. It was in vain he ran from place to place, attempting by prayers and threats to establish something like a unity and purpose of action-the fellows had lost their reason in their extreme fear.-It was all in vain that he drew forth his splendid purse, and scattered its rich contents before them what was money to a man who felt that, if he lingered for a minute. he should be sent into the air on the wings of gunpowder ! Some of our boats had caught fire; others were lowered, and you will not wonder that these were all swamped or upset by the numbers that rushed into them. Meanwhile the fire spread, and spread-at each instant it might reach the powder magazines--the guns too, that were all double-shotted or crammed with grape, began to be heated; and as the flames flashed over them, already went off at intervals with tremendous roar. The wild shrieks, curses, and phrensied actions of some of the crew; the speechless despair, and stupid passiveness of others; and the shrill, reckless maniac laugh (for many of them were downright mad) were horrible to witness. People may talk about Mahometan resignation, and the surprising influence of their doctrine of fatalism,

but, for my part, I saw little result from their boasted equanimity or firmset belief: they seemed to be affected just as other mortals would have been in a similar trying situation, and indeed (with the exception of a few of superior rank among the Turks) the despised Greeks shewed infinitely more firmness and presence of mind than their masters. The far greater part of the latter leaped into the sea without reflecting whether they could swim two miles-or, indeed, whether they could swim at all, (among nearly eight hundred Turks, you may imagine, Sir, what a number of fat fellows there were,) and without calculating the certain havoc to be committed on them in the water by the terrible discharges of the guns. I shall not attempt to vaunt my own courage; I was a worn-out, spirit-broken man-I was going to throw myself overboard, when a Greek, a townsman of mine, as brave and clever a lad as ever lived, caught hold of my arm, and drew me aside. "What! are you mad, like the stupid Turks ?" said he in an under tone of voice; "if you leap into the water now, you will be either drowned in the dying grasp of some heavy Osmanli, or have your brains knocked out by the cannon shot-the ship may not blow up yet awhile; and do you not see, that now as the cables are cut, and the wind is towards shore, we are every moment drifting nearer to the island? Come along, Yorghi!" I followed my adviser to the bow of the ship-here I saw a number of Greeks, hanging on the bowsprit and on the rigging outside of the bows. We took our station with them, awaiting in almost breathless silence the moment when the powder magazine should explode. I should tell you, though, that before I left the deck I saw the Captain Pasha make an attempt to leave the ship, in a boat that had sustained little injury. His attendants succeeded in embarking his treasures and valuables, and he was descending the ship's side, when a number of frantic Turks leaped into the boat, and down she went, mahmoudiers**, golden coffee-cups, amber pipes, shawls, Turks, and all! It has been generally said that the Captain Pasha was killed in the boat by the fall of part of the ship's masts; but this, I can assure you, is not correcthe was blown up with the ship. As I was getting over the bows, I saw him through the smoke and flames, standing with his back against the bulwarks, his hands crossed on his breast, and his head raised towards the heavens, which looked pitilessly and on fire; and one of my companions afterwards assured me he saw him in the same position the very moment before the final explosion. Of the explosion itself I can say little, but that it was indeed tremendous. I remember nothing but a dreadful roar, an astounding shock, a burst of flames that seemed to threaten the conflagration of the globe, and a rain of fiery matter that fell thick, and hissed in the troubled sea like ten thousand serpents. The shock threw us nearly all from the bows; some, though not many, were killed by the falling timbers, the rest swam off for shore, from which we were still distant more than a mile. My limbs had no longer the strength and activity that in former times enabled me to swim from Stanchio to Calymna; but, with the assistance of a floating fragment, I did very well, and was among the foremost of the Greeks who reached the little light-house, that stands on Scio's ancient and ruined mole. On looking back at the wreck, the fore-part of the ship appeared still afloat, and the foremast erect, but they soon parted, and Mahmoudier, a coin, value 25 piastres.

the next day nothing was seen of the immense ship, but minute and innumerable fragments scattered on the water and on the shore of the island. Of about nine hundred persons in all, who were on board, only eighty-three escaped, and among these, as far as I could ascertain, there was not one Turk! Many unfortunate Greek prisoners or slaves perished with the ship, and among them, three children.

young

Sciote

My tale is told;-since that dreadful night my adventures have been of a very homely nature. I am now your servant, Sir, and hope the partridges I cooked for you this evening were to your taste.

EVERY MAN'S MASTER.

L'HYGIENE.-FRENCH AND ENGLISH DIETETICS.

THE literature of England and of France has been of late inundated with books on diet, regimen, digestion, and the like. On the one hand we have Abernethy, Hare, Wilson, Philip, Paris, James Johnson, Kitchener, and many more too numerous to particularize: while on the other, we have Meirieu, Simon, Buches, Trelat, Bricheteau, Rostan, Hallé, Hufeland, &c. "A demand," says the Political Economist, " produces a supply," just as naturally as hunger leads to eating, and fatigue to sleep. Precisely so it is in this instance. Now, that the desolating and bloody sword of war has been turned into a pruning hook, and the spear into a ploughshare, mankind, directing their energies to achievements not quite so arduous, it is true, but infinitely more delightful, take Professors Gustaldi, Beauvilliers, Jarrin, and Ude, for their guides; and study the divine arts of "la cuisine et la gloutonnerie." What follows? What follows? A very speedy production of books without number on all and every thing connected with that capricious and universal organ-the stomach. Thus is the "demand” established, the "supply" is not long withheld.

It is one thing to write a book, and another to read it; or, at all events, to profit by its perusal: and we very much question the utility (of course we mean to the reader) of the numerous works that have been recently put forth on the subject of diet. That a physician should write a book-especially if he have some new theory to promulgate, or some useful information to impart,-is both natural and proper: and if he hit upon a popular and taking subject, why, as far as he is concerned, tant mieux! But it is the duty of us as reviewers-and a very ungracious duty it very often is-to "read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest" their voluminous lucubrations. In this particular case we really feel it a duty to "digest" what we read. Having, therefore, sifted the wheat from the chaff of a large pile of dietetic works, we must repeat, that-with one or two marked exceptions, we do verily suspect-not only the inutility, but, even the injurious effect of these oracles; because, by submitting all edible articles to the vigilant laws of chemistry, we must detect, in almost every substance, some noxious and unwhole

some quality. When Mr. Accum published his books on the adulteration of food, garnished with that fearful motto-" There is death in the pot!" all the world was frightened at the communication, and regarded the most ordinary compound substances with extreme suspicion-not to say horror. They may now look with an eye equally distrustful and tremulous upon the different species of meat and vegetables; for the cunning hand of chemistry will detect in them some properties—not, indeed, of sophistication-for dame Nature scorns such knavery-but nevertheless prejudicial—that is, chemically prejudicial—to the human stomach.

But, in all this close and rigid analysation, one trifling fact has been entirely overlooked; namely-that the human stomach is neither a crucible, nor a copper,-neither a retort, nor a furnace; neither, to speak learnedly a vas leviter clausum, nor a balneum aquosum, nor a balneum arena,-but simply and emphatically, as Dr. Hunter used to say" a stomach, gentlemen,-a stomach."

There is another circumstance, also, which the sagacious dieteticians have neglected to consider: they have placed nothing to the account of the habits and feelings, nor even to the constitution of their readers. But this is wrong, and decidedly unjust. If the hypochondriacheaven help him!-cannot take food without referring to some popular work on diet, his situation is very similar to that of a child in leading-strings; and his fears will be constantly excited by the danger of transgression. Truly, there hath been much nonsense thrust upon mankind, by these minatory denunciations against feeding; and our habits, feelings, and even our most innocent inclinations, have been exposed to the action of the crucible, and denounced as perilous.

As eating has been so furiously anathematized, so also has drinking, and with the same bigotry, virulence, and indiscrimination. Of course, if taken to excess, fermented liquors, like every thing else, become pernicious; but it shews a sad lack of wisdom to condemn the use of meat and drink, because their abuse is attended with ill effects. Why should we act and feel, as if this bountiful world, brilliant in beauty and overflowing in blessings, was a collection of steel-traps and spring guns, set to catch the body, and shoot the soul?" Is it not much better and wiser, to avail ourselves of the many blessings which Providence has placed within our reach, than to set ourselves to work, to detect poison in our meat, and God knows what in our drink?--It savours of learning, doubtless, to do all this, and of the “musty" air of the schools: but, cui bono?

"Preach not to me your musty rules,

Ye drones that mould in idle cell;
The heart is wiser than the schools-
The senses always reason well."

Our grandfathers and their progenitors were well convinced that a good cup of" Sherris sack," or muscadine, comforted the heart and aided digestion; and why the same opinion should not influence us, we must leave to the chemists to decide.

Now, as far as we can see, they do not do these things a whit better in France; and this brings us to the immediate consideration of the works before us.