g masters" when they are
idling away a dull morning over their cigars. Nay, advance him if you
will, to the notice of the elders themselves; but take care to ascertain
first that they are people who only travel to gratify a hearty
admiration of the wonderful works of Nature, and to learn to love their
neighbour better by seeking him at his own home--regarding it, at the
same time, as a peculiar privilege, to derive their satisfaction and
gain their improvement from experiences on English ground. Take care of
this; and who knows into what high society you may not be able to
introduce the bearer of the present letter! In spite of his habit of
rambling from subject to subject in his talk, much as he rambled from
place to place in his travels, he may actually find himself, one day,
basking on Folio Classics beneath the genial approval of a Doctor of
Divinity, or trembling among Statutes and Reports under the learned
scrutiny of a Sergeant at Law!

W. C.

HARLEY STREET, LONDON,

_March, 1861._

II.

A CORNISH FISHING TOWN.

The time is ten o'clock at night--the scene, a bank by the roadside,
crested with young fir-trees, and affording a temporary place of repose
to two travellers, who are enjoying the cool night air, picturesquely
extended flat on their backs--or rather, on their knapsacks, which now
form part and parcel of their backs. These two travellers are, the
writer of this book, and an artist friend who is the companion of his
rambles. They have long desired to explore Cornwall together, on foot;
and the object of their aspirations has been at last accomplished, in
the summer-time of the year eighteen hundred and fifty.

In their present position, the travellers are (to speak geographically)
bounded towards the east by a long road winding down the side of a rocky
hill; towards the west, by the broad half-dry channel of a tidal river;
towards the north, by trees, hills, and upland valleys; and towards the
south, by an old bridge and some houses near it, with lights in their
windows faintly reflected in shallow water. In plainer words, the
southern boundary of the prospect around them represents a place called
Looe--a fishing-town on the south coast of Cornwall, which is their
destination for the night.

They had, by this time, accomplished their initiation into the process
of walking under a knapsack, with the most complete and encouraging
success. You, who in these days of vehement bustle, bu