at me down at the foot of the oak with my face turned
towards the water, and, folding my hands, I fell into deep meditation. I
thought on the early Sabbaths of my life, and the manner in which I was
wont to pass them. How carefully I said my prayers when I got up on the
Sabbath morn, and how carefully I combed my hair and brushed my clothes
in order that I might do credit to the Sabbath day. I thought of the old
church at pretty D---, the dignified rector, and yet more dignified
clerk. I though of England's grand Liturgy, and Tate and Brady's
sonorous minstrelsy. I thought of the Holy Book, portions of which I was
in the habit of reading between service. I thought, too, of the evening
walk which I sometimes took in fine weather like the present, with my
mother and brother--a quiet sober walk, during which I would not break
into a run, even to chase a butterfly, or yet more a honey-bee, being
fully convinced of the dread importance of the day which God had
hallowed. And how glad I was when I had got over the Sabbath day without
having done anything to profane it. And how soundly I slept on the
Sabbath night after the toil of being very good throughout the day.

And when I had mused on those times a long while, I sighed and said to
myself, I am much altered since then; am I altered for the better? And
then I looked at my hands and my apparel, and sighed again. I was not
wont of yore to appear thus on the Sabbath day.

For a long time I continued in a state of deep meditation, till at last I
lifted up my eyes to the sun, which, as usual during that glorious
summer, was shining in unclouded majesty; and then I lowered them to the
sparkling water, in which hundreds of the finny brood were disporting
themselves, and then I thought what a fine thing it was to be a fish on
such a fine summer day, and I wished myself a fish, or at least amongst
the fishes; and then I looked at my hands again, and then, bending over
the water, I looked at my face in the crystal mirror, and started when I
saw it, for it looked squalid and miserable.

Forthwith I started up, and said to myself, I should like to bathe and
cleanse myself from the squalor produced by my late hard life and by Mrs.
Herne's drow. I wonder if there is any harm in bathing on the Sabbath
day. I will ask Winifred when she comes home; in the meantime I will
bathe, provided I can find a fitting place.

But the brook, though a very delightful place for fish to dis