not full-grown. Beef and mutton are
consequently better than veal or lamb, or "nice young pork." To these such
vegetables may be added, as are easy of digestion, and such as usually
"agree" with the individual. If, however, the stomach and bowels be very
irritable, and their powers much impaired--if the tongue be dry, and its
edges more than commonly red, vegetable diet ought to be considerably
restricted. Peas, beans, the different kinds of greens, and all raw fruits,
should be avoided, and potatoes, properly boiled, with turnips and carrots,
ought to constitute the only varieties. I have seen the skins of peas, the
stringy fibres of greens, and the seeds of raspberries and strawberries,
pass through the bowels no further changed, than by their exposure to
maceration; and it is not necessary to point out the irritation which
their progress must have produced, as they passed over the excited and
irritable surface of the alimentary canal.

* * * * *

THE SKETCH-BOOK

* * * * *

COWES REGATTA.

A SCENE IN THE ISLE OF WIGHT.

_(For the Mirror.)_

The crowded yachts were anchor'd in the roads,
To view the contest for a kingly prize;
Voluptuous beauty smil'd on Britain's lords,
And fashion dazzled with her thousand dyes;
And far away the rival barks were seen,
(The ample wind expanding every sail)
To climb the billows of the watery green,
As stream'd their pennons on the favouring gale:
The victor vessel gain'd the sovereign boon;
The gothic palace and the gay saloon,
Begemm'd with eyes that pierc'd the hiding veil,
Echoed to music and its merry glee
And cannon roll'd its thunder o'er the sea,
To greet that vessel for her gallant sail.

_Sonnets on Isle of Wight Scenery._

To those readers of the MIRROR who have not witnessed an Isle of Wight
Regatta, a description of that _fete_ may not be uninteresting. From the
days assigned to the nautical contest, we will select that on which his
Majesty's Cup was sailed for, on Monday, the 13th of August, 1827, as the
most copious illustration of the scene; beginning with Newport, the _fons
et origo_ of the "doings" of that remembered day. Dramatically speaking,
the _scene_ High-street, the _time_ "we may suppose near ten o'clock,"
A.M.; all silent as the woods which skirt the river Medina, so that to
hazard a gloomy analogy, you might presume that some plagu