speaks to them, you hear a voice
reply, and see the lips move, but not a motion or gesture betrays that
there is animation in any other part of the frame. The monarch often speaks
in the third person: "The king is pleased," "The king commands." His
ministers usually style him "The object of the world's regard." They are as
particular in forms of speech as in other ceremonies; and superiority and
inferiority of rank, in all their gradations, are implied by the terms used
in the commonest conversations.

_Sir J. Malcolm's History of Persia._

* * * * *

THE COSMOPOLITE.

* * * * *

We love an occasional stroll into the environs of London--_on foot_--and
_alone_. On foot, because we hate the machinery of a coach--and alone,
because we have only our own leisure to consult, and there is no time lost
in "making up minds." On such occasions we have no set object in view, but
we determine to make "good in every thing." A book, great or small, is then
to us a great evil; and putting a map into one's pocket is about as absurd
as Peter Fin's taking Cook's Voyages on his journey to Brighton. We read
the other day of a reviewer who started from Charing Cross with a blue bag
filled with books for his criticship: he read at Camberwell, and he read at
Dulwich--he wrote in the sanded and smoke-dried parlour of the Lion, the
Lamb, or the Fox--and he wrote whilst his steak was grilling at the
_auberge_ at Dulwich--and he went home in a hackney-coach: "Lord how he
went out--Lord how he came in." Another brother talks of rambling in a
secluded village field with Gilbert White's "Natural History of Selborne,"
or the "Journal of a Naturalist," in his hand. All this is very pleasant
and mighty pretty; but it is not true; and we stake our critical character
that neither Gilbert White nor our "Naturalist" did such things, or if they
did, that they were not essential to their writings. Making notes and
comparing them with others, after a long walk, is another matter; but to
walk out into the country to read a book on natural philosophy is not
indicative of a susceptible mind. For our own part, we want no book but the
broad volume of Nature--but to derive profit as well as pleasure, we must
go out with some of the philosophy of Nature in our hearts--for walking is
like travelling, (which is only a long walk,)--"a man must carry knowledge
with him, if he would bring home knowle