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sooner than usual, I have often very speedily country looks dismal-nature is, as it were, got rid of colds, &c."
half dead. The summer corrects all these in. Why, there may be no great harm in acting conveniences.” Paradoxical as this doctrine as above; although we should far rather re- may at first sight appear--yet we have verified commend a screed of the Epsoms. A tea- it by experience having for many years found, spoonful of Epsom salts in half a pint of warm without meeting with one single exception, that water, reminds one, somehow or other, of Tims. the fine, long, warm days of summer are an A small matter works a Cockney. It is not so agreeable and infallible corrective of the ineasyand that the Cockneys well know-to conveniences attending the foul, short, cold move the bowels of old Christopher North. days of winter-a season which is surly withWe do not believe that a tea-spoonful of any out being sincere, blustering rather than boldthing in this world would have any serious an intolerable bore-always pretending to be effect on old " Ironsides." We should have notaking his leave, yet domiciliating himself in hesitation in backing him against so much another man's house for weeks together--and, corrosive sublimate. He would dine out on to be plain, a season so regardless of truth, the day he had bolted that quantity of arsenic; that nobody believes him till frost has hung an --and would, we verily believe, rise triumphant ice-padlock on his mouth, and his many-river'd from a tea-spoonful of Prussic acid.
voice is dumb under the wreathed snows. We could mention a thousand cures for “Cleanliness when travelling," observes the “colds, et cetera," more efficacious than a Doctor, “is doubly necessary; to sponge the broth diet, a warm room, a tea-spoonful of body every morning with tepid water, and then Epsom salts, or early roosting. What say rub it dry with a rough towel, will greatly conyou, our dear Dean, to half a dozen tumblers tribute to preserve health. To put the feet of hot toddy? Your share of a brown jug to into warm water for a couple of minutes just the same amount? Or an equal quantity, in before going to bed, is very refreshing, and its gradual decrease revealing deeper and inviting to sleep; for promoting tranquillity, deeper still the romantic Welsh scenery of both mental and corporeal, a clean skin may the Devil's Punch-Bowl ? Adde tot small- be regarded as next in efficacy to a clear conbearded oysters, all redolent of the salt-sea science." foam, and worthy, as they stud the Ambrosial Far be it from us to seek to impugn such brodd, to be licked off all at once by the lam- doctrine. A dirty dog is a nuisance not to be bent tongue of Neptune. That antiquated borne. But here the question arises-whocalumny against the character of toasted what is a dirty dog? Now there are men cheese-that, forsooth, it is indigestible-has (no women) naturally- -necessarily-dirty. been trampled under the march of mind; and, They are not dirty by chance or accident therefore, you may tuck in a pound of double say twice or thrice per diem; but they are alGloucester. Other patients, labouring under ways dirty—at all times and in all places and catarrh, may, very possibly, prefer the roasted never and nowhere more disgustingly so than how-towdy—or the green goose from his first when figged out for going to church. It is in stubble-field-or why not, by way of a little the skin, in the blood—in the flesh, and in the variety, a roasted mawkin, midway between bone that with such the disease of dirt more hare and leveret, tempting as maiden between especially lies. We beg pardon, no less in the woman and girl, or, as the Eastern poet says, hair. Now, such persons do not know that between a frock and a gown? Go to bed-no they are dirty-that they are unclean beasts. need of warming pans-about a quarter before On the contrary, they often think themselves one ;-you will not hear that small hour strike pinks of purity—incarnations of carnations--you will sleep sound till sunrise, sound as impersonations of moss-roses-the spiritual the Black Stone at Scone, on which the Kings essences of lilies, “imparadised in form of of Scotland were crowned of old. And if you that sweet flesh.” Now, were such persons contrive to carry a cold about you next day, to change their linen every half hour, night you deserve to be sent to Coventry by all sen- and day, that is, were they to put on fortysible people—and may, if you choose, begin eight clean shirts in the twenty-four hours taking, with Tims, a tea-spoonful of Epsom and it might not be reasonable, perhaps, to salts in a half-pint of warm water every half demand more of them under a government hour, till it moves your bowels twice or thrice; somewhat too whiggish-yet though we cheerbut if you do, be your sex, politics, or religion fully grant that one and all of the shirts would what they may, never shall ye be suffered to be dirty, we as sulkily deny that at any given contribute even a bit of Balaam to the Maga- moment from sunrise to sunset, and over zine.
again, the wearer would be clean. He would The Doctor then treats of the best Season for be just every whit and bit as dirty as if he had travelling, and very judiciously observes that known but one single shirt all his life--and it is during these months when there is no oc- firmly believed his to be the only shirt in the casion for a fire-that is, just before and after universe. •he extreme heat. In winter, Dr. Kitchiner, Men again, on the other hand, there are and wnu was a man of extraordinary powers of thank God, in great numbers who are naturobservation, observed, “that the ways are ally so clean, that we defy you to make them generally bad, and often dangerous, especially bonâ fide dirty. You may as well drive down in hilly countries, by reason of the snow and a duck into a dirty puddle, and expect lasting ice. The days are short--a traveller comes stains on its pretty plumage. Pope says the late to his lodging, and is often forced to rise same thing of swans—that is, Poets-when before the sun in the morning—besides, thel speaking of Aaron Hill diving into the ditch
“He bears no tokens of the sabler streams,
braided, and unbounded beauty, is the morning But soars far off among the swans of Thames.
sky! Pleasant people of this kind of constitution Irishmen are generally men of the kind thus you see going about of a morning rather in illustrated-generally sweet--at least in their dishabille—hair uncombed haply-face and own green Isle; and that was the best arguhands even unwashed and shirt with a some- ment in favour of Catholic Emancipation.-So what day-before-yesterdayish hue. Yet are are Scotsmen. Whereas, blindfolded, take a they, so far from being dirty, at once felt, seen, London, Edinburgh, or Glasgow Cockney's and smelt, to be among the very cleanest of her hand, immediately after it has been washed Majesty's subjects. The moment you shake and scented, and put it to your nosemand you hands with them, you feel in the firm flesh of will begin to be apprehensive that some pracpalm and finger that their heart's-blood circu- tical wit has substituted in lieu of the sonnetlates purely and freely from the point of the scribbling bunch of little fetid fives, the body highest hair on the apex of the pericranium, to .of some chicken-butcher of a weasel, that died the edge of the nail on the large toe of the of the plague. We have seen as much of what right foot. Their eyes are as clear as un- is most ignorantly and malignantly denomiclouded skies--the apples on their cheeks are nated dirt-one week's earth-washed off the like those on the tree-what need, in either feet of a pretty young girl on a Saturday night, at case, of rubbing off dust or dew with a towel? a single sitting in the little rivulet that runs What though, from sleeping without a night- almost round about her father's hut, as would cap, their hair may be a little toosey? It is have served him to raise his mignionette in, or not dim-dull-oily-like half-withered sea- his crop of cresses. How beautifully glowed weeds! It will soon comb itself with the fin- the crimson snow of the singing creature's new gers of the west wind-that tent-like tree its washed feet! First as they shone almost motoilette-its mirror that pool of the clear-flow- tionless beneath the lucid waters-and then, ing Tweed.
fearless of the hard bent and rough roots of Some streams, just like some men, are al- the heather, bore the almost alarming Fairy ways dirty-- you cannot possibly tell why-dancing away from the eyes of the stranger; unproducible to good pic-nic society either in till the courteous spirit that reigns over all the dry or wet weather. În dry, the oozy wretches Highland wilds arrested her steps knee-deep in are weeping among the slippery weeds, infest- bloom, and bade her bow her auburn head, as ed with eels and powheads. In wet, they are blushing, she faltered forth, in her sweet Gaelic like so many common sewers, strewn with accents, a welcome that thrilled like a blessing dead cats and broken crockery, and threaten through the heart of the Sassenach, nearly be. ing with their fierce fulzie to pollute the sea. nighted, and wearied sore with the fifty glorious The sweet, soft, pure rains, soon as they touch mountain-miles that intermit at times their the flood are changed into filth. The sun sees frowning forests from the correis of Cruachan his face in one of the pools, and is terrified out to the cliffs of Cairngorm. of his senses. He shines no more that day. It will be seen from these hurried remarks, The clouds have no notion of being carica- that there is more truth than, perhaps, Dr. tured, and the trees keep cautiously away from Kitchiner was aware of, in his apothegm the brink of such streams-save, perchance, that a clean skin may be regarded as next in now and then, here and there, a weak, well- efficacy to a clear conscience.” But the Docmeaning willow-a thing of shreds and patches tor had but a very imperfect notion of the -its leafless wands covered with bits of old meaning of the words “clean skin”-his obworsted stockings, crowns of hats, a bauchle, servation being not even skin-deep. A wash(see Dr. Jamieson,) and the remains of a pair hand basin, a bit of soap, and a coarse towel, of corduroy breeches, long hereditary in the he thought would give a Cockney on Ludgatefamily of the Blood-Royal of the Yetholm hill a clean skin-just as many good people Gipsies.
think that a Bible, a prayer-book, and a long Some streams, just like some men, are al- sermon, can give a clear conscience to a criways clean-you cannotwell tell why-produ- minal in Newgate. The cause of the evil, in cible to good pic-nic society either in dry or wet both cases, lies too deep for tears. Millions of weather. In dry, the pearly waters are sing- men and women pass through nature to etering among the freshened flowers-so that the nity clean-skinned and pious—with slight extrout, if he chooses, may breakfast upon bees. pense either in soap or sermons; while mil In wet, they grow, it true, dark and drumly lions more, with much weekday bodily scrub. -and at midnight, when heaven's candles are bing, and much Sabbath spiritual sanctificaput out, loud and oft the angry spirit of the wa- tion, are held in bad odour here, while they ter shrieks. But Aurora beholds her face in live, by those who happen to sit near them, the clarified pools and shallows far and wide and finally go out like the stink of a candle. glittering with silver or with gold. All the Never stir, quoth the Doctor, “without banks and braes re-appear green as emerald paper, pen, and ink, and a note-book in your from the subsiding current-into which look pocket. Notes made by pencils are easily obwith the eye of an angler, and you behold a literated by the motion of travelling. Commit Fish-a twenty pounder-steadying himself, to paper whatever you see, hear, or read, that like an uncertain shadow; and oh! for George is remarkable, with your sensations on obScougal's leister to strike him through the serving it-do this upon the spot, if possible, spine! Yes, these are the images of trees, far at the moment it first strikes you—at all events down as if in another world; and whether you do not delay it beyond the first convenient or look up or look down, alike in all its blue, (portunity.”
Suppose all people behaved in this way~ are easily obliterated by the motion of traveland what an absurd world we should have of ling; but, then, Doctor, notes made by the it-every man, woman, and child who could Mind herself, with the Ruby Pen Nature gives write, jotting away at their note-books! This all her children who have also discourse of committing to paper of whatever you see, hear, Reason, are with the slightest touch, easilier or read, has, among many other bad effects, far than glass by the diamond, traced on the this one especially—in a few years it reduces tablets that disease alone seems to deface, you to a state of idiocy. The memory of all death alone to break, but which, ineffaceable, men who commit to paper becomes regularly and not to be broken, shall with all their misextinct, we have observed, about the age of cellaneous inscriptions endure for ever-yea, thirty. Now, although the Memory does not even to the great Day of Judgment. bear a very brilliant reputation among the If men will but look and listen, and feel and faculties, a man finds himself very much at a think—they will never forget any thing worth stand who is unprovided with one; for the being remembered. Do we forget “our chilImagination, the Judgment, and the Reason dren, that to our eyes are dearer than the walk off in search of the Memory—each in sun ?" Do we forget our wives—unreasonopposite directions; and the Mind, left at able and almost downright disagreeable as home by itself, is in a very awkward predica- they sometimes will be ? Do we forget our ment-gets comatose-snores loudly, and ex- triumphs-our defeats—our ecstasies, our agopires. For our own part, we would much nies--the face of a dear friend, or “dearest rather lose our Imagination and our Judg- foe”--the ghostlike voice of conscience at ment-nay, our very Reason itself-than our midnight arraigning us of crimes-or her Memory-provided we were suffered to retain seraph hymn, at which the gates of heaven a little Feeling and a little Fancy. Commit- seem to expand for us that we may enter in ters to paper forget that the Memory is a tablet, among the white-robed spirits, and or they carelessly fling that mysterious tablet
“Summer high in bliss upon the hills of God ?" away, soft as wax to receive impressions, and harder than adamant to retain and put their What are all the jottings that ever were jotted trust in a bit of calf-skin, or a bundle of old down on his jot-book, by the most inveterate rags.
jotter that ever reached a raven age, in comThe observer who instantly jots down every parison with the Library of Useful Knowobject he sees, never, properly speaking, saw ledge, that every man-who is a man-carries an object in his life. There has always been within the Ratcliffe—the Bodleian of his own. in the creature's mind a feeling alien to that breast? which the object would, of its pure self, have
What are you grinning at in the corner excited. The very preservation of a sort of there, you little ugly Beelzebub of a Printer's style in the creature's remarks, costs him an Devil ? and have you dropped through a seam effort which disables him from understanding in the ceiling? More copy do you want? what is before him, by dividing the small at- There, you imp-vanished like a thought! tention of which he might have been capable, between the jotting, the jotter, and the thing jotted. Then your committer to paper of whatever he sees, hears, or reads, forgets or
SECOND COURSE. has never known that all real knowledge, either of men or things, must be gathered up ABOVE all things, continues Dr. Kitchiner, by operations which are in their very being “avoid travelling through the night, which, by spontaneous and free—the mind being even interrupting sleep, and exposing the body to unconscious of them as they are going on the night air, is always prejudicial, even in the while the edifice has all the time been silently mildest weather, and to the strongest constitarising up under the unintermitting labours of tions.” Pray, Doctor, what ails you at the those silent workers—Thoughts; and is finally night air? If the night air be, even in the seen, not without wonder, by the Mind or Soul mildest weather, prejudicial to the strongest itself, which, gentle reader, was all along constitutions, what do you think becomes of Architect and Foreman—had not only origi- the cattle on a thousand hills? Why don't all nally planned, but had even daily superintend- the bulls in Bashan die of the asthma—or look ed the building of the Temple.
interesting by moonlight in a galloping conWere Dr. Kitchiner not dead, we should sumption ? Nay, if the night air be so very just put to him this simple question-Could fatal, how do you account for the longevity of you, Doctor, not recollect all the dishes of the owls? Have you never read of the Chaldean most various dinner at which you ever assist- shepherds watching the courses of the stars? ed, down to the obscurest kidney, without Or, to come nearer our own times, do you not committing every item to your note-book ? know that every blessed night throughout Yes, Doctor, you could. Well, then, all the the year, thousands of young lads and lasses universe is but one great dinner. Heaven meet, either beneath the milk-white thorn-or and earth, what a show of dishes! From a on the lea-rig, although the night be ne'er sae sun to a salad-a moon to a mutton-chop-a wet, and they be ne'er sae weary-or under a comet to a curry-a planet to a pâté! What rock on the hill-or-no uncommon casegross ingratitude to the Giver of the feast, not beneath a frozen stack—not of chimneys, but to be able, with the memory he has given us, of corn-sheaves-or on a couch of snowmand to remember his bounties? It is true, what that they are all as warm as so many pies; ihe Doctor says, that notes made with pencils / while, instead of feeling what you call “ the
lack of vigour attendant on the loss of sleep, his mouth so deranged by tippling that he which is as enfeebling and as distressing as simultaneously snorts, stutters, slavers and the languor that attends the want of food,” snores-pot-bellied-shanked like a spindlethey are, to use a homely Scotch expression, strae--and bidding fair to be buried on or be“neither to haud nor bind;" the eyes of the fore Saturday week ;-Be it a half-drunk horseyoung lads being all as brisk, bold, and bright cowper, swinging to and fro in a wraprascal as the stars in Charles's Wain, while those of on a bit of broken-down blood that once won the young lasses shine with a soft, faint, ob- a fifty, every sentence, however short, having scure, but beautiful lustre, like the dewy but two intelligible words, an oath and a lie Pleiades, over which nature has insensibly his heart rotten with falsehood, and his bowels been breathing a mist almost waving and burned up with brandy, so that sudden death wavering into a veil of clouds ?
may pull him from his saddle before he put Have you, our dear Doctor, no compassion spurs to his sporting filly that she may bilk for those unfortunate blades, who, nolentes- the turnpike man, and carry him more speedily volentes, must remain out perennially all night home to beat or murder his poor, pale, in-we mean the blades of grass, and also the dustrious char-woman of a wife ;-Be it not flowers? Their constitutions seem often far a beggar, for beggars are prohibited from this from strong; and shut your eyes on a frosty parish-but a pauper in the sulks, dying on night, and you will hear them—we have done so her pittance from the poor-rates, which altomany million times-shivering, ay, absolutely gether amount in merry England but to about shivering under their coat of hoar-frost! If the paltry sum of, more or less, six millions a the night air be indeed what Dr. Kitchiner has year-her son, all the while, being in a thrivdeclared it to be-Lord have mercy on the ing way as a general merchant in the capital vegetable world! What agonies in that field of the parish, and with clear profits from his of turnips! Alas, poor Swedes! The imagina- business of £300 per annum, yet suffering the tion recoils from the condition of that club of mother that bore him, and suckled him, and winter cabbages—and of what materials, pray, washed his childish hands, and combed the must the heart of that man be made, who bumpkin's hair, and gave him Epsoms in a could think but for a moment on the case of cup when her dear Johnny-raw had the bellythose carrots, without bursting into a flood of ache, to go down, step by step, as surely and
as obviously as one is seen going down a The Doctor avers that the firm health and stair with a feeble hold of the banisters, and fine spirits of persons who live in the country, stumbling every footfall, down that other are not more from breathing a purer air, than flight of steps that consist of flags that are from enjoying plenty of sound sleep; and the mortal damp and mortal cold, and lead to most distressing misery of “this Élysium of nothing but a parcel of rotten planks, and bricks and mortar,” is the rareness with which overhead a vault dripping with perpetual moiswe enjoy “the sweets of a slumber unbroke.” ture, green and slobbery, such as toads delight
Doctor-in the first place, it is somewhat in crawling heavily through with now and doubtful whether or not persons who live in then a bloated leap, and hideous things more the country have firmer health and finer spirits worm-like, that go wriggling briskly in and out than persons who live in towns-even in Lon- among the refuse of the coffins, and are heard, don. What kind of persons do you mean? | by imagination at least, to emit faint angry You must not be allowed to select some dozen sounds, because the light of day has hurt their or two of the hairiest among the curatesma eyes, and the air from the upper world weak- . few chosen rectors whose faces have been but ened the rank savoury smell of corruption, lately elevated to the purple-a team of pre- clothing, as with a pall, all the inside walls of bends issuing sleek from their golden stalls--the tombs ;-Be it a man yet in the prime of a picked bishop—a sacred band the élite of the life as to years, six feet and an inch high, and squirearchy-with a corresponding sprinkling measuring round the chest forty-eight inches, of superior noblemen from lords to dukes-(which is more, reader, than thou dost by six, and then to compare them, cheek by jowl, with we bet a sovereign, member although thou an equal number of external objects taken even be'st of the Edinburgh Six Feet Club,) to from the common run of Cockneys. This, whom Washington Irving's Jack Tibbuts was Doctor, is manifestly what you are ettling at, but a Tims—but then ever so many gamebut you must clap your hand, Doctor, without keepers met him all alone in my lord's pheadiscrimination, on the great body of the rural sant preserve, and though two of them died population of England, male and female, and within the month, two within the year, and take whatever comes first-be it a poor, wrin- two are now in the workhouse-one a mere kled, toothless, blear-eyed, palsied hag, totter- idiot, and the other a madman—both shadows ing horizontally on a staff
, under the load of a -so terribly were their bodies mauled, and so premature old age, (for she is not yet fifty,) sorely were their skulls fractured ;-yet the brought on by annual rheumatism and pe- poacher was taken, tried, hulked; and there he rennial poverty ;-Be it a young, ugly, un-sits now, sunning himself on a bank by the married woman, far advanced in pregnancy, and edge of a wood whose haunts he must thread sựllenly trooping to the alehouse, to meet the no more—for the keepers were grim boneoverseer of the parish poor, who, enraged with breakers enough in their way--and when they the unborn bastard, is about to force the parish had gotten him on his back, one gouged him bully to marry the parish prostitute ;-Be it a like a Yankee, and the other bit off his nose landlord of a rural inn, with pig eyes peering like a Bolton Trotter-and one smashed his over his ruby cheeks, the whole machinery of los frontis with the nailed heel of a two-pound
wooden clog, a Preston Purrer;-so that Master pectation of the Tailor who played the princi Allonby is now far from being a beauty, with pal part--and sense, feeling, memory, imaginaa face of that description attached to a head tion, and reason, were all felled by one blow wagging from side to side under a powerful of fear-as butcher felleth ox-while by one palsy, while the Mandarin drinks damnation of those mysteries, which neither we, nor you, to the Lord of the Manor in a horn of eleemo- nor anybody else, can understand, life resynary ale, handed to him by the village black- mained not only unimpaired, but even insmith, in days of old not the worst of the gang, vigorated; and there she sits, like a clock and who, but for a stupid jury, a merciful wound up to go a certain time, the machinery judge, and something like prevarication in the of which being good, has not been altogether circumstantial evidence, would have been deranged by the shock that sorely cracked the hanged for a murderer—as he was-dissected, case, and will work till the chain is run down, and and hung in chains ;-Be it a red-haired wo- then it will tick no more;-Be it that tall, fair, man, with a pug nose, small fiery eyes, high lovely girl, so thin and attenuated that all wonder cheekbones, bulging lips, and teeth like swine- she can walk by herself—that she is not blown tusks,-- bearded-flat-breasted as a man-tall, away even by the gentle summer breeze that scambling in her gait, but swift, and full of wooes the hectic of her cheek—dying all see wild motions in her weather-withered arms, all -and none better than her poor old motherstarting with sinews like whipcord—the Pedes- and yet herself thoughtless of the coming trian Post to and fro the market town twelve doom, and cheerful as a nest-building bird miles off—and so powerful a pugilist that she while her lover, too deep in despair to be behit Grace Maddox senseless in seven minutes— trayed into tears, as he carries her to her couch, tried before she was eighteen for child-murder, each successive day feels the dear and dreadbut not hanged, although the man-child, of ful burden lighter and lighter in his arms. which the drab was self-delivered in a ditch, Small strength will it need to support her bier ! was found with blue finger-marks on its wind- The coffin, as if empty, will be lowered unfelt pipe, bloody mouth, and eyes forced out of their by the hands that hold those rueful cords! sockets, buried in the dunghill behind her In mercy to our readers and ourselves, we father's hut—not hanged, because a surgeon, shall endeavour to prevent ourselves from puroriginally bred a sow-gelder, swore that he be- suing this argument any further-and perhaps lieved the mother had unconsciously destroyed quite enough has been said to show that Dr. her offspring in the throes of travail, if indeed Kitchiner's assertion, that persons who live in it had ever breathed, for the lungs would not the country have firmer health and finer spirits swim, he swore, in a basin of water-so the in- than the inhabitants of towns--is exceedingly cestuous murderess was let loose; her brother problematical. But even admitting the fact to got hanged in due time after the mutiny at the be as the Doctor has stated it, we do not think Nore-and her father, the fishmonger-why, he has attributed the phenomenon to the right he went red raving mad as if a dog had bitten cause. He attributes it to “their enjoying him-and died, as the same surgeon and sow- plenty of sound sleep.” The worthy Doctor is gelder averred, of the hydrophobia, foaming at entirely out in his conjecture. The working the mouth, gnashing his teeth, and some said classes in the country enjoy, we don't doubt it, cursing, but that was a calumny, for something sound sleep-but not plenty of it. They have seemed to be the matter with his tongue, and but a short allowance of sleep--and whether he could not speak, only splutter-nobody it be sound or not, depends 'chiefly on themventuring, except his amiable daughter-and selves; while as to the noises in towns and in that particular act of filial affection she was cities, they are nothing to what one hears in amiable-to hold in the article of death the the country-unless, indeed, you perversely old man's head ;-Be it that moping idiot that prefer private lodgings at a pewterer's. Did would sit, were she suffered, on, on, on-night we wish to be personal, we could name a single and day for ever, on the selfsame spot, what- waterfall who, even in dry weather, keeps all ever that spot might be on which she hap- the visiters from town awake within a circle pened to squat at morning, mound, wall, or of four miles diameter; and in wet weather, stone-motionless, dumb, and, as a stranger not only keeps them all awake, but impresses would think, also blind, for the eyelids are them with a constantly recurring conviction still shut-never opened in sun or storm ;-yet during the hours of night, that there is somethat figure—that which is now, and has for thing seriously amiss about the foundation of years been, an utter and hopeless idiot, was the river, and that the whole parish is about once a gay, laughing, dancing, singing girl, to be overflowed, up to the battlements of the whose blue eyes seemed full of light, whether old castle that overlooks the linn. Then, on they looked on earth or heaven, the flowers or another point, we are certain-namely, that the stars her sweet-heart-a rational young rural thunder is many hundred times more man, it would appear-having leapt out upon powerful than villatic. London porter is above her suddenly, as she was passing through the admiration--but London thunder below conchurchyard at night, from behind a tomb-stone tempt. An ordinary hackney-coach beats it in a sack which she, having little time for hollow. But, my faith! a thunder-storm in the consideration, and being naturally supersti- country-especially if it be mountainous, with tious, supposed to be a shroud, and the wearer a few fine Woods and Forests, makes you inthereof, who was an active stripling of sound evitably think of that land from whose bourne flesh and blood, to be a ghost or skeleton, all no traveller returns; and even our town readone horrid rattle of bones; so that the trick ers will acknowledge that country thunder succeeded far beyond the most sanguine ex- much more frequently proves mortal than the