y occupied by the late residence of Lord Glengariff,
well known as the Hermitage, and be framed and galleried in wood in the
style so frequently seen in the Tyrol."

Where is the born Briton would not feel the air balmier and the breeze
more zephyr-like if he could see that it waved a royal standard? Where
the Anglo-Saxon who would not think the sea more salubrious that helped
to salt a duke? Where the alley that was not cooler if a marquis walked
beneath its shadow? It is not that honest John Bull seeks the intimacy
or acquaintance of these great folk; he has no such weakness or
ambition,--he neither aspires to know or be known of them; the limit of
his desire is to breathe the same mountain air, to walk the same chain
pier, to be fed by their poulterer and butcher, and, maybe, buried by
their undertaker. Were it the acquaintanceship he coveted, were it some
participation in the habits of refined and elegant intercourse, far be
it from us to say one word in disparagement of such ambition, satisfied,
as we are, that in all that concerns the enjoyment of society, for the
charms of a conversation where fewest prejudices prevail, where least
exaggerations are found, where good feeling is rarely, good taste never,
violated, the highest in rank are invariably the most conspicuous. But,
unhappily, these are not the prizes sought after; the grand object being
attained if the Joneses and Simpkinses can spend their autumn in the
same locality with titled visitors, bathe in the same tides, and take
their airings at the same hours. What an unspeakable happiness might
it yield them to know they had been "bored" by the same monotony, and
exhausted by the same _ennuis!_

They who were curious in such literature fancied they could detect the
fine round hand of Mr. Hankes in the glowing descriptions of Glengariff.
Brought up at the feet of that Gamaliel of appraisers, George Robins,
he really did credit to his teachings. Nor was it alone the present
delights of the spot he dwelled upon, but expatiated on the admirable
features of an investment certain to realize, eventually, two or three
hundred per cent It was, in fact, like buying uncleared land in the
Bush, upon which, within a few years, streets and squares were to
be found, purchasing for a mere nominal sum whole territories that
to-morrow or next day were to be sold as building lots and valued by the
foot.

As in a storm the tiniest creeks and most secluded coves feel in their