ng down in the meadow,
besides the wish of enjoying sleep?" "None whatever," he replied;
"indeed, I should be very glad not to be compelled to do so, always
provided I could enjoy the blessing of sleep; for by lying down under
trees, I may possibly catch the rheumatism, or be stung by serpents; and,
moreover, in the rainy season and winter the thing will be impossible,
unless I erect a tent, which will possibly destroy the charm." "Well,"
said I, "you need give yourself no further trouble about coming here, as
I am fully convinced that with this book in your hand, you may go to
sleep anywhere, as your friend was doubtless aware, though he wished to
interest your imagination for a time by persuading you to lie abroad;
therefore, in future, whenever you feel disposed to sleep, try to read
the book, and you will be sound asleep in a minute; the narcotic
influence lies in the book, and not in the field." "I will follow your
advice," said the individual; "and this very night take it with me to
bed; though I hope in time to be able to sleep without it, my nerves
being already much quieted from the slumbers I have enjoyed in this
field." He then moved towards the gate, where we parted; he going one
way, and I and my horse the other.

More than twenty years subsequent to this period, after much wandering
about the world, returning to my native country, I was invited to a
literary tea-party, where, the discourse turning upon poetry, I, in order
to show that I was not more ignorant than my neighbours, began to talk
about Byron, for whose writings I really entertained considerable
admiration, though I had no particular esteem for the man himself. At
first, I received no answer to what I said--the company merely surveying
me with a kind of sleepy stare. At length a lady, about the age of
forty, with a large wart on her face, observed, in a drawling tone, "That
she had not read Byron--at least, since her girlhood--and then only a few
passages; but that the impression on her mind was, that his writings were
of a highly objectionable character." "I also read a little of him in my
boyhood," said a gentleman about sixty, but who evidently, from his dress
and demeanour, wished to appear about thirty, "but I highly disapproved
of him; for, notwithstanding he was a nobleman, he is frequently very
coarse, and very fond of raising emotion. Now emotion is what I
dislike;" drawling out the last syllable of the word dislike. "There is