is as nothing, unless one's a fool. Downright love exists only
with boyish and the wildest romance, infinitely removed from every
grain of common sense. I will give an instance of this boyish
weakness, though a ridiculous one.

There was a maid-servant in Eton, who was a modest, respectable, and
certainly very pretty girl. Notwithstanding the stoutness of her
ancle, she had made a deep impression on many of the bigger boys,
though probably not one of them had exchanged a syllable with her.
This girl now became betrothed to a Windsor tradesman. No sooner was
this ascertained, than her admirers let him plainly know, that should
he presume to prosecute his design, it should cost him dearly. Several
of them now never met the poor fellow without insulting him; and I
remember one boy, more ardent than the rest, went into his shop and
fought him chivalrously, like a good knight and true. So high did the
feud now run, that the shop-keepers sided with their townsman, and for
months half the school was each evening engaged in a spirited skirmish
with the Windsor mobility for this Fair Maid of Perth; and I believe
that, in consequence of the excitement they evinced on the occasion,
the match was postponed for nearly two years. The boy who
particularised himself for his pugnacious prowess has since become a
preacher in the open fields, and a zealous supporter of the
miraculously unknown tongues.

"But these are foolish things to all the wise," and particularly so
to me, though my head was altogether turned, and my heart too. My days
were more than ever dedicated to roaming over the country; and in the
evening I used to love to scull my skiff far up the stream, and then
float quietly down while I watched the sun setting, and the luxurious
yet modest forget-me-not, on the banks; then leave my boat to sit
motionless on a retired stile, and listen to "the still small voice"
of the mysterious bat, or the drowsy soothing hum of the beetle. One
of these evenings, by the bye, was productive of a little adventure.

I had just accomplished "the shallows," and was now rowing hard
against the stream opposite Boveney Church, when I was startled for
the moment by the sounds of a number of female voices, some of which
even amounted to screams. On looking over my shoulder, I now observed
an enormous pleasure-barge, with its deck and cabin crowded with a
numerous party of ladies and gentlemen. It was drawn up the stream by
three or four horses.