Mr. Cavanagh was in infancy rather remarkable for the many sleepless nights he occasioned his worthy parents by his juvenile intimations that fasting at that time was no part of his system.  He progressed rapidly in his powers of consumption, and was indeed a child of

[Illustration:  A FULL HABIT;]

or, as his nurse expressed it, he was alwaist good for three rounds at breakfast, not at all to be sneezed at luncheon, anything but bad at dinner, hearty at tea (another three-rounder), and very consistent at supper.

“Reverse of fortune changes friends”—­reverse of circumstances, alas! too often changes feeds!—­pecuniary disappointments brought on a reduction of circumstances—­reduction of circumstances occasioned a reduction of meals, and the necessity for such reduction being very apparent to a philosophic mind, engendered a reduction of craving for the same.  Perhaps nothing could have proved more generally beneficial than the individual misfortunes of Mr. Bernard Cavanagh, which transferred him to one of those Elysiums of brick and mortar, the “Poor Law Union.”  Here, as he himself expresses it, the fearful fallacies of his past system were made beautifully apparent; he felt as if existence could be maintained by the infinitesimal process, so benevolently advocated and regularly prepared, that one step more was all that was necessary to arrive at dietary perfectibility.  That step he took, it being simply, instead of next to nothing, to live on nothing at all; and now, such was his opinion of the condiments supplied, he declares it to be by far the pleasantest of the two.

It has been reported that Mr. Bernard Cavanagh’s powers of abstinence have their latent origin in enthusiasm.  This he confesses to be the case, his great admiration for fasting having arisen from the circumstance of his frequently seeing the process of manufacturing the pauper gruel, which sight filled him with most intense yearnings to hit upon some plan by which, as far as he was concerned, he might for ever avoid any participation in its consumption.

That immense cigar, the mild Cavanagh! favours us with the following practical account of his system; by which he intends, through the means of enthusiasm, to render breakfasts a superfluity—­luncheons, inutilities—­dinners, dreadful extravagancies—­teas, iniquitous wastes—­and suppers, supper-erogatories.

Mr. B.C. proposes the instant dismissal, without wages or warning, of all the cooks, and substitution of the like number of Ciceros; thereby affording a more ample mental diet, as the followers will be served out with orations instead of rations.  For the proper excitement of the necessary enthusiasm, he submits the following Mental Bill of Fare:—­

    FOR STRONG STOMACHS AND WEAK INTELLECTS:—­