_At_ 2 P.M.—I have six ounces lean meat, three ounces brown bread or biscuit, six ounces green vegetables, and half-a-pint of any fluid except ale, effervescing wines, or aërated waters. _After Dinner_—I take half-a-pint of coffee. _At_ 6 P.M.—I take half-a-pint of coffee. _At Supper_—I have two ounces brown bread or biscuit, and a couple of glasses of sherry or claret. Independently of this I eat fruit _ad lib._ I find as a broad rule that all vegetables that grow above ground, such as cauliflower, artichokes, sprouts, &c. (except peas and rice), are conducive to health; whereas all that grow underground, such as potatoes, carrots, beet-root, &c., are fat persons’ poison. It is immaterial what meat one eats, whether fish, flesh—except pork—or fowl, but it is necessary to avoid the fat. Stout persons will find, as I did, an inclination to smuggle in a little, but they must flee from the temptation. A severe trial at first is confining one’s self to this quantity and quality, whilst others are indulging to a greater extent at the same table; but the feeling soon wears off, and must be looked on as the penalty attached to Pharaoh’s fat kine. Fat people never consider that if they were suffering from a cancer they would not hesitate to submit to amputation—and amputation is not unattended with pain—to prolong life; and yet they waver regarding the treatment of corpulency—an equally certain enemy to life—with a painless remedy! Do they invariably also, in other paths of life, return good for evil, and heap coals of fire on an enemy’s head? And yet here is a hideous, ungainly, deadly foe pampered and fattened at the cost of life, comfort, and appearance. And then the ridicule! I ask you, amiable fat reader, is that agreeable? I would, in fact, make obesity penal, as calling for special legislation, whereby the police would be justified in arresting oleaginous pedestrians, clapping them into the scales at the nearest police-station, and if they exceeded a certain number of feet in circumference, or weight, at once procure their summary imprisonment, without the option of a fine. The streets would thus be cleared of these fleshy obstructions; besides which, if the law recognises attempted suicide as a crime in one way, why not in another? The dietary I have suggested is conducive to constipation, a result that brown bread remedies considerably, if not entirely removes. There are brown breads and brown breads, however, and after trying a good many, I have come to the conclusion that the “whole meal bread” made by Messrs. Hill and Son, of 60, Bishopsgate Street Within, and 3, Albert Mansions, Victoria Street, is admirably adapted to the requirements of the corpulent. It keeps the bowels open, is delicious in flavour, and entirely free from the alum that finds its way into many other kinds. Some six months ago I had an interview with a member of this firm, and explained my views of