On my visits at the old home for these thirty years, I have been tempted by those dishes which no one but a mother can make, and have eaten more than usual; and, although the visit was, otherwise, such as freshens and invigorates the faculties, I constantly observed that, upon my return, my lectures were duller rather than sprightlier as they should have been after such a pleasant rest. At length, I came to suspect that visiting, even with my own mother, did not agree with me. But it occurred to me, a few years ago, to deny myself the custard pie so thick and luscious, to refuse the chicken pie, with its rich crust, to deny myself all the desserts and other tit-bits, and live on a moderate quantity of plain beef and bread. Since then, my pilgrimages to the home-shrine have greatly refreshed both body and soul, and I return home to resume my duties with new pleasure and new strength. Why will people, (I trust my mother will pardon the question,) why will people prepare such elaborate and tempting dishes for their friends? If one has a keen appetite, and sits at the table in a social spirit, and takes even a little of each article urged upon him, the variety and quantity must derange his digestion, and then his capacity for enjoyment is at an end. I was invited, a few months ago, to dine at the house of a lady, who is recognized as standing at the head of the intellectual aristocracy of a most intellectual and refined city. The lady is noted, likewise, as the best of housekeepers, and as a most charming hostess. The plate and crockery were the finest I have ever seen at a private table. We had four courses: 1st, a small glass of lemonade, 2nd, a bit of melon, 3rd, roast beef and sweet potatoes, 4th, ice-cream. Our hostess, with her fine conceptions of life, could no more have given us soup, fish, meat, game, puddings, pies, raisins, nuts, fruits and ice-creams, than she could have offered us whiskey, rum, gin, brandy and all the rest of them. All this sort of thing, whether of foods or drinks, belongs to the vulgar and barbarous. Some time since an august Medical Association assembled for its annual meeting in Boston. The city government voted a large sum of money to the entertainment of the "distinguished visitors." It was a precious opportunity for the homoepathic physicians of the city, under whose management the money was to be spent, to show what a generous and refined hospitality could do. Boston has a peculiar reputation. In some respects it stands alone among American cities. And this was a peculiar occasion. Several hundred representatives of a dominant school of medicine, one which now commands the intelligence of the country, were to convene in Boston. The strangers stopped at hotels and with the brethren, and, it may be fairly presumed, got enough to eat.