he beheld with tearful eyes the inadequate clothing of their beautiful wives and daughters. Greatly as I admire the maxim, "Honi soit, qui mal y pense," and Dr. Johnson's rebuke to Boswell, when he asked, "Do you not consider that statue indecent?" "No, sir; but your question is," I am equally convinced that—

and I admire the quaint, quiet satire of another American, when in describing a great aquatic festival on the Thames he says, "America is a fine free country in many ways, but England is much more free in one, and allows her subjects and the strangers within her gates to dress as they please and when they please." I should like to know the author of that criticism; I feel that it would be gratifying to exchange cigars and smiles. I think he must be the same commentator who, when he came to Rochester Cathedral and saw some heraldic lions which are painted upon the walls thereof, hideous, attenuated, with no bodies to speak of, turned to the verger, and said, “You seem to keep your lions rather short.'

There are other proofs that the soil which is neither ploughed nor sown will produce weeds, not wheat. There is the young lady who pays to us men the greatest of all compliments-imitation. She wears the hat, the collar, the tie, the waistcoat, the jacket, the stick, the case for cigarettes, and even the book for bets. She has a large dog, a horse that can

gallop and jump, and a sweet little rifle for rooks and rabbits. She sometimes indulges in sporting terms, and may probably inform you, when you inquire about her health, that she is "very fit." The admiration which she creates is fugitive, except with a few enthusiastic young gentlemen who have receding foreheads and are much addicted to gaiters.

I am compelled to confess that we have in England fifty silly young men to one silly young woman, and I must add, to our further shame, that whereas we are cruelly severe in condemning our brethren, we are infinitely kind in criticizing our sisters, when they are good-looking. In America, I think, this unblushing partiality is altogether unknown-if only for this reason, that as the American ladies are, to quote the description of Charles Dickens, "decidedly and unquestionably beautiful," the barriers between wisdom and folly would fall flat as the walls of Jericho. Max O'Rell writes, in his book on "Jonathan and his Continent," "I do not remember to have seen one hopelessly plain woman during my six months' ramble in the States."

IX.

MARRIAGE.

Its happiness-The Rose looking in at the window-Early instincts-My first lover's lay-Some sad mistakes-A caution to lovers-Old customs.

I CANNOT leave this delectable society without a few words upon a subject most deeply interesting, not only to young men and maidens," but to "old men and children." I mean, Marriage. Yes, to us old men, who have found, and find, the happiness of life from those who have soothed its sorrows and purified its joys

"There's a Rose looking in at the window,

In every condition of life;

In days of content and enjoyment,
In hours with bitterness rife.

"Where'er there's the smile of a true wife,
As bright as a beam from above,
'Tis the Rose looking in at the window,
And filling the dwelling with love."

Happiness with them and from them, their children, and children's children. I must be speaking to some who, though the long shadows of eventide are falling

upon their path as upon mine, are rejoicing, as I am, to revive their own childhood with the little ones of a third generation. When I hear those tiny feet, as I sit in my study, pattering overhead, I am powerless, however grave, however interesting, the subject of which I read or write, to remain in my seat, and hasten to refresh my spirit with the sight of that small pedestrian, who, according to his grandfather's clock, has "beaten the record."

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That is manifest, you say, but how is Marriage interesting to the children themselves? I don't know; they don't know; but so it is. Whatever may be the date of that process, which is known as falling in love," in America, we lose no time in England. I see one of the little grandchildren, of whom I spoke, putting her doll to bed with a most maternal and loving care, and sweetly, patiently, endeavouring to sing it to sleep, in spite of two enormous eyes, which stare unblinking defiance. As for boyhood, I really cannot remember any period in which I was not in love with somebody; and I recall affecting verses which I wrote soon after I had entered on " the teens

"When first I saw the golden curls

Of William Barlow's youngest sister,
I loved her most of all the girls,
And more and more I sadly miss'd her.

"And though Bill Barlow, when I praised,
And told him that I loved, his sister,
Came at me with a stick, and raised
Upon my arm a horrid blister;

"And though I struck him on the nose,
I still adored his youngest sister;
And after that exchange of blows,

More madly for my wife I wished her.

Again we met, so sweet, so shy

She called me 'Sir,' and likewise 'Mister':

I never saw such modesty

As that of William Barlow's sister.

"We shared each other's hopes and fears,

We smiled, and sighed, and spoke in whispers,

And did not heed the silly jeers

Of William Barlow's other sisters.

"And it was Christmas-time, you know,

And she was kind, that youngest sister;

And so, beneath the mistletoe,

I offered her my hand-and

[Here the manuscript is illegible.]

But seriously, for this subject of Matrimony suggests most serious considerations, it becomes us elderly folk to caution our juniors, whether they will hear or whether they will forbear, that this early romance, these nuptial anticipations, must be accommodated, as time goes on, to the counsels of reason and the possibilities of facts; that sentiment must have an interview with common sense, and not only the hymeneal priest, but the banker, and the upholsterer, and the butcher, and the baker, must be regarded as important factors in this momentous transaction. Many a man and many a woman have brought the chill shadow of disappointment upon their lives, because they entered that holy estate of