's, allow him three months to get accustomed to the
local appearances and the deceptive smoke clouds, and he would then tell
what the weather of the day was going to be far more efficiently than
the very best instrument ever yet invented. He would not always be
right; but he would predict the local London weather with far more
accuracy than any one reading the returns from the barometers at
Valentia, Stornoway, Brest, or Christiansand.

The reason is this--the barometer foretells the cloud in the sky, but
cannot tell where it will burst. The practised eye can judge with very
considerable accuracy where the discharge will take place. Some idea of
what the local weather of London will be for the next few hours may
often be obtained by observation on either of the bridges--Westminster,
Waterloo, or London Bridge: there is on the bridges something like a
horizon, the best to be got in the City itself, and the changes announce
themselves very clearly there. The difference in the definition is
really wonderful.

From Waterloo Bridge the golden cross on St. Paul's and the dome at one
time stand out as if engraved upon the sky, clear and with a white
aspect. At the same time, the brick of the old buildings at the back of
the Strand is red and bright. The structures of the bridges appear
light, and do not press upon their arches. The yellow straw stacked on
the barges is bright, the copper-tinted sails bright, the white wall of
the Embankment clear, and the lions' heads distinct. Every trace of
colour, in short, is visible.

At another time the dome is murky, the cross tarnished, the outline dim,
the red brick dull, the whiteness gone. In summer there is occasionally
a bluish haze about the distant buildings. These are the same changes
presented by the Downs in the country, and betoken the state of the
atmosphere as clearly. The London atmosphere is, I should fancy, quite
as well adapted to the artist's uses as the changeless glare of the
Continent. The smoke itself is not without its interest.

Sometimes upon Westminster Bridge at night the scene is very striking.
Vast rugged columns of vapour rise up behind and over the towers of the
House, hanging with threatening aspect; westward the sky is nearly
clear, with some relic of the sunset glow: the river itself, black or
illuminated with the electric light, imparting a silvery blue tint,
crossed again with the red lamps of the steamers. The aurora of dark
vapour, streamers ex