the wisdom, and the happiness of which I have spoken, you would be poor had you the wealth of the world in your possession, but with them you cannot fail to be richer than a Jew, wiser than Solon, and happier than a Prince. dwell in the town when you can live in the country, unless duties and affections have an influence in reconciling you to the smoky chimneys around you; or strong reasons prevent your changing a bad atmosphere for a good one. Many excellent things are in the town; but health, and innocence, and happiness are worth them all. Talk of friends and society! where do you get better than among the sincere, honest, openhearted inmates of country habitations? Talk of books! you may have as many as you need, and more than you have time and industry to turn to advantage, in almost every bookcase. Are you fond of paintings? look on the prospects of hill and dale, mountain and moor, wood and water. Regard the diversified figures which move around you, and the gorgeous glory of the rising and setting sun, and pity the unim C passioned productions of Rubens and Raphael; the poverty-stricken pencil of Claude Lorraine. If you can see, hear, feel, smell, taste, or understand, surely you will never compare the town with the country. I have tried both: what is there that I have not tried? and I find that he who would have a clear head and a buoyant spirit, a sound mind and a healthy body, must live in the country. What are all the gardens, the parks, and the promenades, of the finest cities, compared to the ever-changing, ever-delightful spring, summer, autumn, and, indeed, winter scenes of the country! I had rather eat my crust under a hawthorn hedge than dine from silver plate in a palace. I had rather breathe the fresh breeze of the morning gale in the country, than inhale town air scented with eau de Cologne and the attar of roses. Did you ever stand spell-bound by the varied attractions of a fine old elm-tree? It is my favourite: there is nothing like it that grows upon the ground. The oak has its majesty, the cedar its sublimity, the yew and the cpyress their solemnity, the pine its romanticity, and the birch its bark of beauty; but the elm has everything which can recommend it to the fancy, the feelings, and the affections: a prince may stop to admire it, and a ploughboy may gaze on it with pleasure. Look at its stem, its bark, and its branches; regard its fair and fantastic featherings, neither too light nor too heavy, too close nor too scattered. Now mind, if you have never noticed these things, that you do notice them the very first time that you walk abroad. If it were only for the advantage of gazing on the elm-trees, I should prefer the country; but when I call to mind the |