any other manner, with the merest urchin
he might meet, was out of the question. It would have caused
excitement. Moreover he was a meek man, and in all doubtful points
yielded to the claim of others. Grocery-boys and barrow-women always
had the wall of him. Our traveller proceeded so tranquilly, that a
sparrow boldly hopped down upon the ground before him; he was so
resolved to enter into conflict with no living creature, that he
paused till it had hopped off again.

Mr Simpson's toilet, though it had been that day a subject of great
anxiety with him, presented, we fear, to the eyes of the world nothing
remarkable. A careless observer, if questioned on the apparition he
had met with, would have replied very briefly, that it was the figure
of an old pedant dressed in a suit of rusty black. Suit of rusty
black! And so he would dismiss the aggregate of all that was choice,
reserved, and precious in the wardrobe of Mr Simpson. Rusty black,
indeed! Why, that dress coat, which had been set apart for years for
high and solemn occasions, had contracted a fresh dignity and
importance from every solemnity with which it had been associated. And
those respectable nether-garments, had they not always been dismissed
from service the moment he re-entered his own dusty apartment? Had
they not been religiously preserved from all abrasion of the surface,
whether from cane-bottomed chair, or that under portion of the library
table which, to students who cross their legs, is found to be so
peculiarly pernicious to the nap of cloth? What _could_ have made them
worse for wear? Would a thoughtless world confound the influence of
the all-embracing atmosphere, with the wear and tear proper to cloth
habiliments? And then his linen--would a careless public refuse to
take notice that not a single button was missing from the shirt,
which, in general, had but one solitary button remaining--just one at
the neck, probably fastened by his own hand? Above all, was it not
noticeable that he was not to-day under the necessity of hiding one
hand behind him under the lappets of his coat, and slipping the other
down his half-open umbrella, to conceal the dilapidated gloves, but
could display both hands with perfect candour to public scrutiny? Were
all these singular merits to pass unacknowledged, to be seen by no
one, or seen only by himself?

It was an excellent wish of Burns'--

"Oh, would some power the giftie gie us,
To see ourselves as oth