tyranny; and every law which gives others security becomes an enemy to them."

Why was this heart of mine formed with so much sensibility? or why was not my fortune adapted to its impulse? Tenderness, without a capacity of relieving, only makes the man who feels it more wretched than the object which sues for assistance.

1 Page of antiquity, book written

by some ancient author.

2 Sallies, &c. Playful outbursts of
wit, cr some cutting sarcasm from
the pen of the ablest men of the
day; "contemporary," living at
the same time. (Lat. con, to-
gether; tempus, time.)

3 Pageant, & gorgeous spectacle.
4 Transience, the passing away.
5 Sublunary, earthly; lit. under the
moon. (Lat. sub, under; luna,
moon.)

6 Turns its back. This is not true
at the present day; provision is
made for all the destitute and
homeless either in our poor-houses

and refuges, or in "casual wards," at which a night's lodging, supper, and breakfast may be obtained by any one who is willing to do a certain task of work in exchange. 1 And every law, &c. This could not be said with much truth in the time of Goldsmith, and at the present day it would be absolutely false; it is well known that Englishmen are all equal in the eyes of the law.

s Sensibility, acuteness of feeling. [Goldsmith was in disposition tender, sympathetic, and generous ]

THERE

A MODERN MANSION.

HERE are many persons who suppose that people who live in first-class houses, with all the modern improvements, must of course be much puffed up, and that they become quite grand in their own eyes. Let any who think so just try a year in one of our modern mansions, with all the newest improvements, and see if they do not pity those whose fate it is to live in one.

They will at first be charmed, like we were, with all its apparent conveniences. Our attic had a tank so large as better to be called a reservoir. Down from it ran the service-pipes to every part of the dwelling. Each chamber had its invisible water-maid in the wall, ready to spring the water-floods upon you by the mere

turn of your hand; then the bath-room was a marvel, with tub, douche, shower, and every other kind of squirt-up, down, and everyway. The kitchen, too, seemed the triumph of invention: the tubs with water waiting to leap into them, and the hot-water furnace ready at any moment to supply the whole house with any amount of scalding fluid.

But the greatest of all admirations was the boiler in the cellar for turning winter out of doors. For a time this was our peculiar pride. The idea was, when the water in the boiler got as hot as it could well bear that it should frisk out of one end of the boiler into a system of pipes, and be conducted by them round the house, and come back into the other end cooled down. Thus a complete circulation was established like that of the blood in our bodies-the boiler being the heart, the water the blood, the pipes at the hot end the arteries, and the return pipes at the cool end the veins.

It was a day of great glory when we thought the chill in the air justified a fire under the boiler. The fact was we wanted to play with our pet and to try his wonderful powers. We do not recollect ever afterwards to

have been so eager.

In the first place, we could never raise enough heat to change the air in the house more than from cold to chill. We piled on the coal in the cellar, and watched the thermometer in the best bedroom; ran down to feed the boiler with more coal, and back again to watch the effect. Only there was scarcely any effect to watch. At last we became so desperate and got up such a furious fire that steam began to form, and sputter, and blow off. The maids in the kitchen ran off in a fright, for fear of being blown up, all except one, who, with the spirit of Joan of Arc, assailed the enemy in his own

camp, and threw a bucket of water into the fire. This produced several effects: it put out the fire, it also put out so much gas, steam, and ashes, that the heroic maiden was put out also. And, more than all, it cracked the boiler.

But this we did not know till some days afterwards, when it was reported that one of the pipes was stopped up, for the water would not flow. The plumber was sent for. He brought upon himself a laugh of ridicule by suggesting that the water had given out in the tank. Water given out? We thought we had a pocket-ocean upstairs. Up we marched, climbed up the sides, peered down to the dirty bottom of an emptied tank. Alas! everything depended on the tank: the furnace in the cellar, the range in the kitchen, the hot and cold baths, the laundry department, the convenient water-taps on every floor-all depended on the tank, and the tank had run dry through a chink in the boiler.

Finding that it would cost more to repair the boiler than to purchase a hot-air furnace, we determined to try this new toy. How we fondled the favourite at first and kicked it at last!

But of all the modern improvements the greatest was due to the inventive bell-hanger. There was a grand arrangement of bells at our front door which seldom failed to make everybody outside mad because they would not ring, or everybody inside mad because they rang so furiously. The contrivance was that two bells should be rung by one wire-a common bell in the servants entry, and a gong in the upper entry. The bell-gear was so heavy to draw that it never operated till the man got angry and pulled with the strength of an ox. But then it went off with such a clatter and clang that one would think a band of music with all its

cymbals had fallen through the skylight down into the area. Thus women, children, and modest men seldom got in, and sturdy beggars had it all their own way.

It was quite entertaining to see experiments performed on that bell. A man would first give a modest pull, and then reflect what he was about to say. No one coming he gave a longer pull, and returned to waiting and meditation. A third pull was the preface to stepping back, surveying the windows, looking into the area, when, seeing undoubted signs of life within, he returns with flushed face to the bell: now for it! He pulls as if he held a line by the side of a river with a thirty-pound salmon on it, while all the bells go off, up and down, till the house seemed a belfry.

In the midst of these luxuries of a modern mansion, we sometimes would look wistfully out of the window, tempted to envy the unconscious happiness of our twostorey neighbours over the way. They had none of the latest conveniences to ruffle their temper. Abridged.

THE PASSING OF THE SEASONS.

So forth issued the seasons of the year:
First, lusty Spring, all dight in leaves of flowers
That freshly budded and new blooms did bear,
In which a thousand birds had built their bowers
That sweetly sung to call forth paramours;1
And in his hand a javelin he did bear,

And on his head (as fit for warlike stoures) 2
A gilt engraven morion 3 he did wear;

3

That as some did him love, so others did him fear.1

Then came the jolly Summer, being dight
In a thin silken cassock coloured green,

That was unlined all, to be more light;
And on his head a garland well beseen

5

He wore, from which as he had chaufféd been

The sweat did drop; and in his hand he bore
A bow and shafts, as he in forest green

6

Had hunted late the leopard or the boar,

And now would bathe his limbs, with labour heated sore.

Then came the Autumn, all in yellow clad,

As though he joyéd in his plenteous store,

Laden with fruits that made him laugh, full glad

That he had banished hunger, which to-fore 7
Had by the belly oft him pinchéd sore;
Upon his head a wreath, that was enrolled

With ears of corn of every sort, he bore;

And in his hand a sickle he did hold,

To reap the ripened fruits the which the earth had yold.

Lastly came Winter, clothed all in frieze,
Chattering his teeth for cold that did him chill;
Whilst on his hoary beard his breath did freeze,
And the dull drops, that from his purpled bill 9
As from a limbeck 10 did adown distil;

11

In his right hand a tippéd staff he held,
With which his feeble steps he stayed still;

9

For he was faint with cold and weak with eld; 12
That scarce his looséd limbs he able was to wield.