A detachment of sons and servants was forthwith despatched to order or bribe the gipsies to strike their tents-though even in that event we doubted if any earthly inducement could persuade Colonsay to pass that haunted nook. Meanwhile, not to be idle, we took our seat, as requested, by the side of Mrs Clerk, and fell to breakfast with what appetite we might-nor was our appetite much amiss-and the breakfast was most excellent. Are you fond of peas-pudding? You are; then we need not ask your opinion of pork. Let no man kill his own mutton-let all men kill their own bacon-which, indeed, is the only way to save it. An experienced eye can, without difficulty, detect thirst even when disguised in hunger-and Mr Clerk nodded to a daughter to hand us a horn of the home-brewed." Here's to the greycoats and blue petticoats of Westmoreland!" and the sentiment diffused a general smile. We never desired to resemble that wild and apocryphal animal the Unicorn-so we did not confine ourselves to a single horn. We are not now much of a malt-worm-but every season has its appropriate drink and ale is man's best liquor in the grand climacteric. 'Tis a lie to say it then stupifies any but sumphs. Hops are far preferable to poppies-in all cases but one-and that exception strengthens the general rule-we mean the case of the inimitable English Opium-Eater. Yet even in those days we could, against his Smyrnean laudanum, have backed our Ecclerigg ale. The horn that held it seemed converted into ivory and rimmed with gold. How it over-mantled with foamy inspiration! How sunk that dark but pellucid stream like music in the heart! What renovation! what elevation! what adoration of all that was mighty, and what scorn of all that was mean! "Rule-rule, Britannia-Britannia, rule the waves!" That was the first song we volunteered—and all the household joined in the chorus. Then sung we "Auld lang syne"-the only Scottish air popular-as far as we know-in the cottages of England-and it, we fear, chiefly because some of the words have to common and vulgar

minds but a boisterous bacchanalian spirit-whereas, believe us, they are one and all somewhat sad-and the song may be sung so as to melt even a hard eye to tears.

"Hope springs eternal in the human breast"-and though assuredly we did not seem, sitting there, to be on the fair way or the high-road to victory, something within us told us we should yet win the day. The whole family were equally confident of our ultimate success; and now a lassie from the oasis came to tell us that the gipsies, grieved to think it had caused our disaster, had removed their encampment-and were desirous to give us all the help in their power, should we think of attempting to get the grey horse past the braying-place. This was cheering intelligence; and Colonsay having finished a feed of corn, when brought out looked more than ever like a winner. Fortunately we thought at that moment of his predilection for side-saddles and horsewomen; and having arrayed and burdened him accordingly-pretty Ella Clerk not refusing to try a canter-we led him snorting past the Oasis of Asses, and back again to the precise spot where he had made the wheel-and there, after gently assisting Ella of Ecclerigg to get down, and replacing the Marquis of Granby, we mounted incontinent, and again surrendered up our whole spirit to the passionate enthusiasm of

the Match.

It was yet ten minutes to seven! Fifty minutes since starting had been consumed, and we had performed— we mean in the right direction-not much-if any thing-above two miles! That seems no great going; yet the average rate had probably been about fifteen miles an hourwhich if not great is good goingand not to be sneezed at, on one of his best ponies, by either Lord Caithness, or the Duke of Gordon. you must remember the primal fall at the beginning of all-which occupied, one way and another, several minutes-then there was the episode to Rayrigg-and the delay that occurred about the fresh-that is, the third start at the Cross-Roads at Cook's House-then you must add something for the shying, and swerving, and shoving, at the smithy, and

For

for all that entanglement and extrication-and when to all these items you add the half hour consuming and consumed at Ecclerigg, you will find that not more than eight minutes were occupied by positive match-trotting between the antique mile-stone where took place the first great original start, and the spot where occurred our latest disasterif disaster it may be called that led to a breakfast in one of the pleasant est cottages in Westmoreland-close to the nearest ash-tree, on the left hand side, to the Oasis of Assesalias the Donkey's Isle.

Hitherto our mind had been so much engaged, that we had had neither time nor opportunity to observe the day-and knew little more of it than that it was dry, and dusty, and hot. Now we fell not to such perusal of her face as we would draw it, but we chucked Miss Day under the chin, and looking up she acknowledged our courteous civilities with a heart-beaming smile! The Day was not comely only, but beautiful-never saw we before nor since more heavenly blue eyes, sunnier clouds of golden hair, or a nobler forehead ample as the sky. The weather was not dry—for there had been some rain during the early hours of the night, and its influence still lay on the woods, along with that of the morning dew. It was not dustyhow could it be-when every rill was singing a new song? If madmen will trot at the rate of fifteen miles an hour, and gallop at the rate of fifty, they will perspire; but their odious condition does not prove the air to be hot; and now, at seven of a midsummer morning, it was cool as that of a whole continent of cucumbers. Ah, far

more than cool! We hear too much and too often of warm kisses; but the sweetest of all kisses in this weary world are the sweet, fresh, fragrant, almost, but not quite, cold kisses of those virgin twin-sisters, Air and Light!

Such, for a few moments, had been the innocent dalliance of Aurora Day with Christopher North, when the eyes of that amorist caught a peep of Lowood; and over its then proud lake-side pine-grove, now ruefully thinned, and the two or three remaining trees, the ghosts

of what they were-and the worst of all ghosts are the dead alivebower-embosomed half way up its own silvan hill, the delightful DoveNest. Collected in front of the Inn, a vast crowd! and in the midst of it as sure as that China oranges are cheap in Pekin-Sam Sitwell, on Shuffler, ready to start! We felt we could afford to ride up to him—and, besides, we were curious to hear him prate of his hereabouts. Could it be that he was on his return from the goal at Grassmere? No. But we soon had a solution of the mystery-or, rather, except to ourselves there was no mystery at all. For, having met us flying home, as he was entitled to believe, at the rate of a young hawk's flight, Sam, who had not then recovered the effects of that ugly fall, wisely decided to breakfast at Lowood. And, according to his account, which we fully credited, Mrs Ladyman had given him a superb déjeuné à la fourchette. Shuffler had all the while stood at the door feeding kindly out of a nose-bag, to be ready at the first symptom of our return; and never saw we so great a change wrought in so short a time, by judicious treatment, as well on man as on horse. Sam was quite spruce-even pert― and rosy about the gills as an alderman. As for Shuffler, we could have thought we saw before us Eleanor herself, had that glorious creature, who was then carrying every thing before her, plates, cups, and all, not been of a different colour. Yet we were proud to find that Christopher on Colonsay divided the popular admiration, and as the rivals shook hands, a shout rent the sky.

We now remembered that it was Grassmere Fair-day, which accounted for the crowd being greater than could have been brought together perhaps even by the bruit of our match. There could not have been fewer than a thousand souls, and the assemblage began to drop off towards Ambleside. It could not but occur to our humane minds that the lieges would be subjected to great peril of life, were we to start at score, and make play through the fragments of that crowd. And start at score and make play we must, if we were now to resume the contest, for our cattle were pawing to be let

go, and you might read desperate thoughts in the faces of the riders. Hitherto the struggle had been severe, though it had not been throughout exactly a neck-and-neck affairit was now a near thing indeed, for if we had been delayed half an hour in Ecclerigg, so had Sitwell in Lowood -and though nothing had occurred to us so personally painful as his accident, we had had severer Trials of Temper. In suffering as in patience we might be fairly enough said to have been on a par.

At that moment a beautiful breeze, that had been born at the head of Langdale, came carolling and curling across the Lake, and met another as beautiful as itself from Belle-Isle, so lovingly that the two melted into one, and brought the Endeavour suddenly round Point-Battery, with all sails set, and all colours flying, a vision glorifying all Lowood Bay. Billy Balmer, all the while holding the rim of his hat, advocated most eloquently a proposal emanating from mine host, that the nags should be stabled for an hour or two, and that we should give Mr Sitwell a sail. Indeed he began to drop hints that it would be easy by signal to collect the whole musquitto fleet; and his oratory was so powerful that at the close of one of his speeches-in reply -we verily believed that a Trottingmatch between horses was about to be changed into a Regatta like that of Cowes.

And a regatta there is, at bidding of the Invisibles of air, whose breath is on the waters, now provided with a blue ground, whitening with breakers, commonly called cats-heads. Five minutes ago, what shadowy stillness of vacant sleep-now what sunny animation of busy lifeiness all over face and breast of Winander! What unfurling, and hoisting, and crowding of canvass "in gentle places, bosoms, nooks, and bays!" and, my

eye, how every craft cocks her jib at the Endeavour! That is the Elizaso named after one of the finest women in England-since christened the "Ugly Cutter" by some malignant eunuch, squeaking the lie as he broke a vinegar cruet on her bows. That schooner is the Roscoe-and Lorenzo was then alive with "his fine Roman hand" and face; and so was Palafox, whose name that threemasted latine-rigged beauty bearssee how, with the wind on her beam like a flamingo, she flies! Yet she cannot overhaul the Liverpoolian— though that Wonder has not yet shaken out two reefs in her mainsail that tell a silent tale of yesterday's squalls. Is! was! what a confusion of moods and tenses! But the Past is all one with the Present. Imagi nation does what she likes with Time; she gives a mysterious middle voice to every verb-and genius pursues them through all their conjugations, feeling that they have all one rootand that the root of the Tree of Knowledge, of Good and of Evilplanted in the heart-and watered sometimes with dewdrop-looking tears, and as often with tears of blood!

And lo! beauty-laden-a life-boat indeed-behold the Barge! The Nil Timeo! Old Nell, as she is lovingly called by all the true sons of Winander! The Dreadnought and Invincible Old Nell Nil Timeo! No awning but one of parasols! Herself seemingly sunk by fair freight and bright burden down to the rowlocks, but steady in her speed as a dolphin; and is she not beautifully pulled, ye Naiads? The admiral's gig resplendent now among a fleet of wherries, skiffs, canoes; and harkwhile the female voices that can sing so divinely are all mute-swelling in strong heroic harmony the Poet Laureate's Song!