y blood in a glow, infused into my brain. I might,
otherwise, have become a mere philologist; one of those beings who toil
night and day in culling useless words for some opus magnum which Murray
will never publish, and nobody ever read--beings without enthusiasm, who,
having never mounted a generous steed, cannot detect a good point in
Pegasus himself; like a certain philologist, who, though acquainted with
the exact value of every word in the Greek and Latin languages, could
observe no particular beauty in one of the most glorious of Homer's
rhapsodies. What knew he of Pegasus? he had never mounted a generous
steed; the merest jockey, had the strain been interpreted to him, would
have called it a brave song!--I return to the brave cob.

* * * * *

'O Cheapside! Cheapside!' said I, as I advanced up that mighty
thoroughfare, 'truly thou art a wonderful place for hurry, noise and
riches! Men talk of the bazaars of the East--I have never seen them, but
I dare say that, compared with thee, they are poor places, silent places,
abounding with empty boxes. O thou pride of London's east!--mighty mart
of old renown!--for thou art not a place of yesterday: long before the
Roses red and white battled in fair England, thou didst exist--a place of
throng and bustle--a place of gold and silver, perfumes and fine linen.
Centuries ago thou couldst extort the praises even of the fiercest foes
of England. Fierce bards of Wales, sworn foes of England, sang thy
praises centuries ago; and even the fiercest of them all, Red Julius
himself, wild Glendower's bard, had a word of praise for London's
"Cheape," for so the bards of Wales styled thee in their flowing odes.
Then, if those who were not English, and hated England, and all connected
therewith, had yet much to say in thy praise, when thou wast far inferior
to what thou art now, why should true-born Englishmen, or those who call
themselves so, turn up their noses at thee, and scoff thee at the present
day, as I believe they do? But, let others do as they will, I, at least,
who am not only an Englishman, but an East Englishman, will not turn up
my nose at thee, but will praise and extol thee, calling thee mart of the
world--a place of wonder and astonishment!--and, were it right and
fitting to wish that anything should endure for ever, I would say
prosperity to Cheapside, throughout all ages--may it be the world's
resort for merchandise, world without end.

* * * * *

Oh, that