The Rainbow Coffee-house, near Temple Bar, one of the oldest taverns in the metropolis, was kept by James Fan, a barber, soon after the introduction of coffee into England. Three years previous to the Restoration, anno 1657, he was presented by the Inquest of St. Dunstan’s in the West, “For making and selling a sort of liquor called ‘Coffee,’ as a great nuisance and prejudice of the neighbourhood,” &c. Strange as it may appear, within half a century of this period, namely in 1708, there were upwards of three thousand Coffee-houses in London alone. An old author says, Who would have thought, after the prejudice against coffee, which was considered pernicious and a public nuisance, it would have been, as now, so much drunk “by the _best of quality_, and by _physicians_?” ❦ [Sidenote: Tobacco.] In the archives of the Society of Antiquaries, amongst other curious documents, is an alehouse license, granted by six justices of the peace in Kent, in which the innkeeper is thus enjoined: “Item, You shall not utter, nor suffer to be uttered, drunke, or taken, any tobacco within your house, cellar, or other place thereunto belonging.” This is dated in the time of James I. ❦ [Sidenote: Duchesse d’Abrantes.] Her writings are not better known to the world, than her kind and generous mind were to those who had remained faithful during her many and great reverses of fortune. In the zenith of power, when her smile or frown could give value or discredit to those who surrounded her, she was a friend of the needy, a protectress of the weak. Her position often created envy, but her winning manner, her graceful accueil converted many an envious discontented spirit into an admiring friend. In her trials and reverses she was made to feel how few are the friends and followers of prosperity whose feelings do not become chilled by the sight of adversity.