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d　leap　up　with　eagerness；　seeming　almost　sustained　in　the　air；　just　as　I　have　seen　her　when　Brush　is　beating　a　hedgerow；　and　she　knows　from　his　questing　that　there　is　a　hare　afoot。　　See；　she　has　caught　that　nut　just　before　it　touched　the　water；　but　the　water　would　have　been　no　defence；she　fishes　them　from　the　bottom；　she　delves　after　them　amongst　the　matted　grass　even　my　bonnethow　beggingly　she　looks　at　that！　　'Oh；　what　a　pleasure　nutting　is！Is　it　not；　May？　　But　the　pockets　are　almost　full；　and　so　is　the　basket…bonnet；　and　that　bright　watch　the　sun　says　it　is　late；　and　after　all　it　is　wrong　to　rob　the　poor　boysis　it　not；　May？'May　shakes　her　graceful　head　denyingly；　as　if　she　understood　the　question'And　we　must　go　home　nowmust　we　not？　　But　we　will　come　nutting　again　some　time　or　othershall　we　not；　my　May？'



THE　VISIT。

October　27th。A　lovely　autumnal　day；　the　air　soft；　balmy；　genial；　the　sky　of　that　softened　and　delicate　blue　upon　which　the　eye　loves　to　rest；the　blue　which　gives　such　relief　to　the　rich　beauty　of　the　earth；　all　around　glowing　in　the　ripe　and　mellow　tints　of　the　most　gorgeous　of　the　seasons。　　Really　such　an　autumn　may　well　compensate　our　English　climate　for　the　fine　spring　of　the　south；　that　spring　of　which　the　poets　talk；　but　which　we　so　seldom　enjoy。　　Such　an　autumn　glows　upon　us　like　a　splendid　evening；　it　is　the　very　sunset　of　the　year；　and　I　have　been　tempted　forth　into　a　wider　range　of　enjoyment　than　usual。　　This　WALK　（if　I　may　use　the　Irish　figure　of　speech　called　a　bull）　will　be　a　RIDE。　　A　very　dear　friend　has　beguiled　me　into　accompanying　her　in　her　pretty　equipage　to　her　beautiful　home；　four　miles　off；　and　having　sent　forward　in　the　style　of　a　running　footman　the　servant　who　had　driven　her；　she　assumes　the　reins；　and　off　we　set。

My　fair　companion　is　a　person　whom　nature　and　fortune　would　have　spoiled　if　they　could。　　She　is　one　of　those　striking　women　whom　a　stranger　cannot　pass　without　turning　to　look　again；　tall　and　finely　proportioned；　with　a　bold　Roman　contour　of　figure　and　feature；　a　delicate　English　complexion；　and　an　air　of　distinction　altogether　her　own。　　Her　beauty　is　duchess…like。　　She　seems　born　to　wear　feathers　and　diamonds；　and　to　form　the　grace　and　ornament　of　a　court；　and　the　noble　frankness　and　simplicity　of　her　countenance　and　manner　confirm　the　impression。　　Destiny　has；　however；　dealt　more　kindly　by　her。　　She　is　the　wife　of　a　rich　country　gentleman　of　high　descent　and　higher　attainments；　to　whom　she　is　most　devotedly　attached；the　mother　of　a　little　girl　as　lovely　as　herself；　and　the　delight　of　all　who　have　the　happiness　of　her　acquaintance；　to　whom　she　is　endeared　not　merely　by　her　remarkable　sweetness　of　temper　and　kindness　of　heart；　but　by　the　singular　ingenuousness　and　openness　of　character　which　communicate　an　indescribable　charm　to　her　conversation。　　She　is　as　transparent　as　water。　　You　may　see　every　colour；　every　shade　of　a　mind　as　lofty　and　beautiful　as　her　person。　Talking　with　her　is　like　being　in　the　Palace　of　Truth　described　by　Madame　de　Genlis；　and　yet　so　kindly　are　her　feelings；　so　great　her　indulgence　to　the　little　failings　and　foibles　of　our　common　nature；　so　intense　her　sympathy　with　the　wants；　the　wishes；　the　sorrows；　and　the　happiness　of　her　fellow…creatures；　that；　with　all　her　frank…speaking；　I　never　knew　her　make　an　enemy　or　lose　a　friend。

But　we　must　get　on。　　What　would　she　say　if　she　knew　I　was　putting　her　into　print？　　We　must　get　on　up　the　hill。　　Ah！　that　is　precisely　what　we　are　not　likely　to　do！　　This　horse；　this　beautiful　and　high…bred　horse；　well…fed；　and　fat　and　glossy；　who　stood　prancing　at　our　gate　like　an　Arabian；　has　suddenly　turned　sulky。　　He　does　not　indeed　stand　quite　still；　but　his　way　of　moving　is　little　better　the　slowest　and　most　sullen　of　all　walks。　　Even　they　who　ply　the　hearse　at　funerals；　sad…looking　beasts　who　totter　under　black　feathers；　go　faster。　　It　is　of　no　use　to　admonish　him　by　whip；　or　rein；　or　word。　　The　rogue　has　found　out　that　it　is　a　weak　and　tender　hand　that　guides　him　now。　　Oh；　for　one　pull；　one　stroke　of　his　old　driver；　the　groom！　how　he　would　fly！　　But　there　is　the　groom　half　a　mile　before　us；　out　of　earshot；　clearing　the　ground　at　a　capital　rate；　beating　us　hollow。　　He　has　just　turned　the　top　of　the　hill；　and　in　a　momentay；　NOW　he　is　out　of　sight；　and　will　undoubtedly　so　continue　till　he　meets　us　at　the　lawn　gate。　　Well！　there　is　no　great　harm。　　It　is　only　prolonging　the　pleasure　of　enjoying　together　this　charming　scenery　in　this　fine　weather。　　If　once　we　make　up　our　minds　not　to　care　how　slowly　our　steed　goes；　not　to　fret　ourselves　by　vain　exertions；　it　is　no　matter　what　his　pace　may　be。　　There　is　little　doubt　of　his　getting　home　by　sunset；　and　that　will　content　us。　　He　is；　after　all；　a　fine　noble　animal；　and　perhaps　when　he　finds　that　we　are　determined　to　give　him　his　way；　he　may　relent　and　give　us　ours。　　All　his　sex　are　sticklers　for　dominion；　though；　when　it　is　undisputed；　some　of　them　are　generous　enough　to　abandon　it。　　Two　or　three　of　the　most　discreet　wives　of　my　acquaintance　contrive　to　manage　their　husbands　sufficiently　with　no　better　secret　than　this　seeming　submission；　and　in　our　case　the　example　has　the　more　weight　since　we　have　no　possible　way　of　helping　ourselves。

Thus　philosophising；　we　reached　the　top　of　the　hill；　and　viewed　with　'reverted　eyes'　the　beautiful　prospect　that　lay　bathed　in　golden　sunshine　behind　us。　　Cowper　says；　with　that　boldness　of　expressing　in　poetry　the　commonest　and　simplest　feelings；　which　is　perhaps　one　great　secret　of　his　originality；

　　　　　'Scenes　must　be　beautiful；　which；　daily　seen；　　　　　　　Please　daily；　and　whose　novelty　survives　　　　　　　Long　knowledge　and　the　scrutiny　of　years。'

Every　day　I　walk　up　this　hillevery　day　I　pause　at　the　top　to　admire　the　broad　winding　road　with　the　green　waste　on　each　side；　uniting　it　with　the　thickly　timbered　hedgerows；　the　two　pretty　cottages　at　unequal　distances；　placed　so　as　to　mark　the　bends；　the　village　beyond；　with　its　mass　of　roofs　and　clustered　chimneys　peeping　through　the　trees；　and　the　rich　distance；　where　cottages；　mansions；　churches；　towns；　seem　embowered　in　some　wide　forest；　and　shut　in　by　blue　shadowy　hills。　　Every　day　I　admire　this　most　beautiful　landscape；　yet　never　did　it　seem　to　me　so　fine　or　so　glowing　as　now。　　All　the　tints　of　the　glorious　autumn；　orange；　tawny；　yellow；　red；　are　poured　in　profusion　among　the　bright　greens　of　the　meadows　and　turnip　fields；　till　the　eyes　are　satiated　with　colour；　and　then　before　us　we　have　the　common　with　its　picturesque　roughness　of　surface　tufted　with　cottages；　dappled　with　water；　edging　off　on　one　side　into　fields　and　farms　and　orchards；　and　terminated　on　the　other　by　the　princely　oak　avenue。　　What　a　richness　and　variety　the　wild　broken　ground　gives　to　the　luxuriant　cultivation　of　the　rest　of　the　landscape！　　Cowper　has　described　it　for　me。　　How　perpetually；　as　we　walk　in　the　country；　his　vivid　pictures　recur　to　the　memory！　　Here　is　his　common　and　mine！

　　　　　'The　common　overgrown　with　fern；　and　rough　　　　　　　With　prickly　gorse；　that；　shapeless　and　deform'd　　　　　　　And　dangerous　to　the　touch；　has　yet　its　bloom；　　　　　　　And　decks　itself　with　ornaments　of　gold；　　　　　　　…　there　the　turf　　　　　　　Smells　fresh；　and；　rich　in　odoriferous　herbs　　　　　　　And　fungous　fruits　of　earth；　regales　the　sense　　　　　　　With　luxury　of　unexpected　sweets。'

The　description　is　exact。　　There；　too；　to　the　left　is　my　cricket…ground　（Cowper's　common　wanted　that　finishing　grace）；　and　there　stands　one　solitary　urchin；　as　if　in　contemplation　of　its　past　and　future　glories；　for；　alas！　cricket　is　over　for　the　season。　　Ah！　it　is　Ben　Kirby；　next　brother　to　Joe；　king　of　the　youngsters；　and　probably　his　successorfor　this　Michaelmas　has　cost　us　Joe！　　He　is　promoted　from　the　farm　to　the　mansion…house；　two　miles　off；　there　he　cleans　shoes；　rubs　knives；　and　runs　on　errands；　and　is；　as　his　mother　expresses　it；　'a　sort　of　'prentice　to　the　footman。'　　I　should　not　wonder　if　Joe；　some　day　or　other；　should　overtop　the　footman；　and　rise　to　be　butler；　and　his　splendid　prospects　must　be　our　consolation　for　the　loss　of　this　great　favourite。　　In　the　meantime　we　have　Ben。

Ben　Kirby　is　a　year　younger　than　Joe；　and　the　school…fellow　and　rival　of　Jem　Eusden。　　To　be　sure　his　abilities　lie　in　rather　a　different　line：　　Jem　is　a　scholar；　Ben　is　a　wag：　　Jem　is　great　in　figures　and　writing；　Ben　in　faces　and　mischief。　　His　master　says　of　him；　that；　if　there　were　two　such　in　the　school；　he　must　resign　his　office；　and　as　far　as　my　observation　goes；　the　worthy　pedagogue　is　right。　　Ben　is；　it　must　be　confessed；　a　great　corrupter　of　gravity。　He　hath　an　exceeding　aversion　to　authority　and　decorum；　and　a　wonderful　boldness　and　dexterity　in　overthrowing　the　one　and　puzzling　the　other。　　His　contortions　of　visage　are　astounding。　　His　'power　over　his　own　muscles　and　those　of　other　people'　is　almost　equal　to　that　of　Liston；　and　indeed　the　original　face；　flat　and　square　and　Chinese　in　its　shape；　of　a　fine　tan　complexion；　with　a　snub　nose；　and　a　slit　for　a　mouth；　is　nearly　as　comical　as　that　matchless　performer's。　　When　aided　by　Ben's　singular　mobility　of　feature；　his　knowing　winks　and　grins　and　shrugs　and　nods；　together　with　a　certain　dry　shrewdness；　a　habit　of　saying　sharp　things；　and　a　marvellous　gift　of　impudence；　it　forms　as　fine　a　specimen　as　possible　of　a　humorous　country　boy；　an　oddity　in　embryo。　　Everybody　likes　Ben；　except　his　butts　（which　may　perhaps　comprise　half　his　acquaintance）；　and　of　them　no　one　so　thoroughly　hates　and　dreads　him　as　our　parish　schoolmaster；　a　most　worthy　King　Log；　whom　Ben　dumbfounds　twenty　times　a　day。　　He　is　a　great　ornament　of　the　cricket…ground；　has　a　real　genius　for　the　game；　and　displays　it　after　a　very　original　manner；　under　the　disguise　of　awkwardnessas　the　clown　shows　off　his　agility　in　a　pantomime。　　Nothing　comes　amiss　to　him。　　By　the　bye；　he　would　have　been　the　very　lad　for　us　in　our　present　dilemma；　not　a　horse　in　England　could　master　Ben　Kirby。　　But　we　are　too　far　from　him　nowand　perhaps　it　is　as　well　that　we　are　so。　　I　believe　the　rogue　has　a　kindness　for　me；　in　remembrance　of　certain　apples　and　nuts；　which　my　usual　companion；　who　delights　in　his　wit；　is　accustomed　to　dole　out　to　him。　　But　it　is　a　Robin　Goodfellow　nevertheless；　a　perfect