it pays to the side brightened by the sun; and this is known to happen
uniformly, for a series of years. Let us be warned, then. There must be no
increase of windows in our houses; let us curtain those we have, and keep
our blinds well down. Let morning sun or afternoon sun fire no volleys in
upon us. Faded curtains, faded carpets, all ye blinds forbid! But faded
faces are desirable. It is a cheering spectacle on summer afternoons to
see the bright rays beating on a row of windows, all the way down a
street, and failing to find entrance any where. Who wants more windows? Is
it not obvious that, when daylight really comes, every window we possess
is counted one too many? If we could send up a large balloon into the sky,
with Mr. Braidwood and a fire-engine, to get the flames of the sun under,
just a little bit, that would be something rational. More light, indeed!
More water next, no doubt! As if it were not perfectly notorious that in
the articles of light, water, and air, Nature outran the constable. We
have to keep out light with blinds and vails, and various machinery, as we
would keep out cockroaches with wafers; we keep out air with pads and
curtains; and still there are impertinent reformers clamoring to increase
our difficulty, by giving us more windows to protect against the inroads
of those household nuisances.

I call upon consistent Englishmen to make a stand against these
innovators. There is need of all our vigor. In 1848, the repeal of the
window-tax was scouted from the Commons by a sensible majority of
ninety-four. In 1850, the good cause has triumphed only by a precarious
majority of three. The exertions of right-thinking men will not be
wanting, when the value and importance of a little energetic labor is once
clearly perceived.

What is it that the sanitary agitators want? To tan and freckle all their
countrywomen, and to make Britons apple-faced? The Persian hero, Rustum,
when a baby, exhausted seven nurses, and was weaned upon seven sheep a
day, when he was of age for spoon-meat. Are English babies to be Rustums?
When Rustum's mother, Roubadah, from a high tower first saw and admired
her future husband Zal, she let her ringlets fall, and they were long, and
reached unto the ground; and Zal climbed up by them, and knelt down at her
feet, and asked to marry her. Are British ladies to be strengthened into
Roubadahs, with hair like a ship's cable, up which husbands may clamber?
In the present state of