self, seated at a comfortable fire on a December evening. The night was dark, starless, and rainy, while the drops pattered upon the windows, and the wind howled at intervals along the house-tops. In a word, it was as gloomy a night as one would wish to see in this, the most dismal season of the year. Strictly speaking, I should have been at home, for it was Sunday; and my own habitation was at too great a distance to justify a visit of mere ceremony on so sacred a day, and amid such stormy weather. The truth is, I sallied out to see Julia,

I verily believe I could write a whole volume about her. She came from the north country, and was at this time on a visit to her aunt, in whose house she resided; and in whose dining-room, at the period of my story, we were all seated round a comfortable fire. Though a prodigious admirer of beauty, I am a bad hand at describing it. To do Julia justice, however, I must make the attempt. She was rather under the middle size, (not much,) blue-eyed, auburn-haired, faircomplexioned, and her shape was of uncommon elegance and proportion. Neck, bosom, waist, ankles, feet, hands, &c., all were perfect, while her nose was beautifully Grecian, her mouth sweetness itself, and her teeth as white and sparkling as pearls. In a word, I don't believe that wide Scotland could boast of a prettier girl-to say nothing of merry England and the Isle of Saints.

It was at this time about eight o'clock; tea had just been over, the tray removed, and the table put to rights. The star of my attraction was seated at one side of the fire, myself at the opposite, the lady of the house in the centre. We were all in excellent humor, and Julia and I eyed each other in the most persevering style imaginable. Her aunt indeed rallied us upon the occasion; and I thought 19 atheneum, VOL. 2, 3d series.

as now.

"But pleasures are like poppies spread;
You seize the flower, its bloom is shed."

So saith Robert Burns; and, truth to speak, his distich was never more effectually verified than at this interesting moment. A servant bouncing by accident into a room where a gallant is on his knees before his mistress, and in the act of "popping the question," is vexatious. An ass thrusting its head through the broken window of a country church, and braying aloud while the congregation are busily chanting "Old Hundred," or some other equally devout melody, is vexatious. An elderly gentleman losing his hat and wig on a windy day, is vexatious. A young gentleman attempting to spring over a stile by way of showing his agility to a bevy of approaching ladies, and coming plump down upon the broadest part of his body, is vexatious. All these things are plagues and annoyances sufficient to render life a perfect nuisance, and fill the world with innumerable heartbreakings and felo-de-sees. But bad as they are, they are nothing to the intolerable vexation experienced by me, (and I believe by Julia too,) on hearing a slow, loud, solemn stroke of the knocker upon the outer door. It was repeated once-twice-thrice. We heard it simultaneously-we ceased speaking simultaneously-we (to wit, Julia and I) ceased ogling each other simultaneously. The whole of us suspended our conversation in a moment

looked to the door of the roombreathed hard, and wondered what it could be. The reader will perhaps marvel how such an impression could be produced by so very trivial a circumstance; but if he himself had heard the sound, he would cease to wonder at the strangeness of our feelings. The knocks were the most extraordinary ever heard. They were not those petty, sharp, brisk, soda

Mr. Time sat him down upon the great elbow-chair, for he was a friend, it seems, of the family—a weighty one assuredly; but one whose acquaintanceship they were all glad to court. The ladies, in truth, seemed much taken with his society. They put fifty questions to him about the play-the assembly-the sermon-marriages deaths-christenings, and what not; the whole of which he answered with surprising volubility. His tongue was the only active part about him, going as glibly as if he were ten stones, instead of thirty, and as if he were a Tims in person as well as in name. In a short time I found myself totally neglected. Julia ceased to eye me, her aunt to address me, so completely were their thoughts occupied with the Man-Mountain.

In about half an hour I began to feel confoundedly uncomfortable. I was a mere cipher in the room; and what with the appalling bulk of Mr. Tims, the attention the ladies bestowed upon him, and the neglect with which they treated me, I sunk considerably in my own estimation. In proportion as this feeling took possession of me, I experienced an involuntary respect for the stranger. I admired his intimate knowledge of balls, dresses, faux pas, marriages, and gossip of all sorts-and still more I admired his bulk. I have an instinctive feeling of reverence towards "Stout Gentlemen ;" and, while contrasting my own puny form with his, I labored under a deep consciousness of personal insignificance. From being five feet eight, I seemed to shrink to five feet one; from weighing ten stones, I suddenly fell to seven and a half; while my portly rival sat opposite to me, measuring at least a foot taller than myself, and weighing good thirty stones, jockey weight. If any little fellow like me thinks of standing well with his mistress, let him never appear in her presence with such a gentleman as Mr. Tims. She will despise him to a certainty; nor, though his soul be as large as Atlas or Teneriffe, will it compensate for the paltry dimensions of his body.

What was to be done? With the ladies, it was plain, I could do nothing; with Mr. Tims, it was equally plain, I ought to do nothing-seeing that, however much he was the cause of my uneasiness, he was at least the innocent cause, and therefore neither morally nor judicially amenable to punishment. His offence was unpremeditated; the reverse of what lawyers call malice prepense, and consequently not a penal one. It is all very well, however, to talk of morality and legality. When a man's passions are up, his sense of justice is asleep, and all idea of rectitude hidden in the blinded impulse of indignation. From respecting Mr. Tims I came to hate him; and I vowed internally, that, rather than be annihilated by this enlarged edition of Daniel Lambert, I would pitch him over the window. Had I been a giant, I am sure I would have done it on the spot. The giants of old, it is well known, raised Pelion upon Ossa, in their efforts to scale the throne of heaven; and tossed enormous mountains at the godhead of Jupiter himself. Unfortunately for me, Mr. Tims was a mountain, and I was no giant.

Under these circumstances, there was no help for me but to march off, and take myself away from such a scene of annoyance. It was plain, I was no longer the "lion" of the night, but a feeble star dwindled into shade before the presence of a more glorious luminary-the ladies ceased to worship at my deserted shrine. I accordingly got up, and, pretending it was necessary that I should see some person in the next street, abruptly left the room. Julia-I did not expect it-saw me to the door, shook hands with me, and said she hoped I would return to supper when my business was finished. Sweet girl! was it possible she could prefer the Man-Mountain to me?

Away I went into the open air. I had no business whatever to perform ; it was mere fudge; and I resolved to go home as fast as I could.

But I did not go home. On the contrary, I kept strolling about from

street to street, sometimes thinking upon Julia, sometimes upon Mr. Tims. The night was of the most melancholy description-a cold, cloudy, windy, rainy December night. Not a soul was upon the streets excepting a solitary straggler, returning hither and thither from an evening sermon, or an occasional watchman gliding past with his lantern, like an incarnation of the Will-o'-wisp. I strolled up and down for half an hour, wrapped in an olive great coat, and having a green silk umbrella over my head. It was well I chanced to be so well fortified against the weather; for had it been otherwise, I must have been drenched to the skin. Where I went, I know not, so deeply was my mind wound up in its various melancholy cogitations. This, however, I do know, that, after striking against sundry lamp-posts, and overturning a few old women in my fits of absence, I found myself precisely at the point from which I set out, viz., at the door of Julia's aunt's husband's house.

I paused for a moment, uncertain whether to enter, and, in the meantime, turned my eyes to the window, where, upon the white blind, I beheld the enormous shadow of a human being. My flesh crept with horror on witnessing this apparition, for I knew it to be the shadow of the Man Mountain-the dim reflection of Mr. Tims. No other human being could cast such a shade. Its proportions were magnificent, and filled up the whole breadth of the window-screen; nay, the shoulders shot away latterly beyond its utmost limits, and were lost in space, having apparently nothing whereon to cast their mighty image. On beholding this vast shade, my mind was filled with a thousand exalted thoughts. I was carried away in imagination to the mountain solitudes of the earth. I saw Mont Blanc lifting his white, bald head, into cold immensity, and flinging the gloom of his gigantic presence over the whole sweep of the vale of Chamouni-that vale in which the master mind of Coleridge composed the sub

limest hymn ever sung, save by the inspired bards of Israel. I was carried away to the far off South sea, where, at sunset, the Peak of Teneriffe blackens the ocean for fifteen miles with his majestic shadow dilated upon the waves. Then the snowy Chimborazo cleaving the sky with his wedge-like shoulders, arose before me; and the exalted summit of volcanic Cotopaxi-both glooming the Andes with shade. Then Ida, and Pindus, and Olympus, were made visible to my spirit. I beheld the fauns and satyrs bounding and dancing in the shadows of these classic mountains, while the Grecian maids walked in beauty along their sides, singing to their full-toned lyres, and perchance discoursing of love, screened from the noontide sun. Then I flew away to the vales of Scotland-to Corrichoich, cooled by the black shade of Morven ; to the GREAT GLEN, where, at sunset and sunrise, the image of Bennevis lies reflected many a rood upon its surface, and the Lochy murmurs under a canopy of mountain cloud.

I paused at the door for some time, uncertain whether to enter; at last my mind was made up, and I knocked, resolved to encounter the Man-Mountain a second time, and, if possible, recover the lost glances of Julia. On entering the dining-room, I found an accession to the company in the person of our landlord, who sat opposite to Mr. Tims, listening to some facetious story which the latter gentleman seemed in the act of relating. He had come home during my absence, and, like his wife and her niece, appeared to be fascinated by the eloquence and humor of his stout friend. At least, so I judged, for he merely recognised my presence by a slight bow, and devoted the whole of his attention to the owner of the mighty shadow. Julia and her aunt were similarly occupied, and I was more neglected than ever.

I felt horribly annoyed. There was a palpable injustice in the whole case, which to me was utterly unendurable; and my wrath boiled over in

fierce but bootless vehemence. The subjects on which the company conversed were various, but the staple theme was love. Mr. Tims related some of his own love adventures, which were, doubtless, sufficiently amusing, if we may judge by the shouts of laughter they elicited from all the party-myself only excepted.

Perhaps the reader may think that there was something ludicrous in the idea of such a man being in love. Not at all the notion was sublime; almost as sublime as his shadow-almost as overwhelming as his person. Conceive the Man-Mountain playing the amiable with a delicate young creature like Julia. Conceive him falling on his knees before her-pressing her delicate hand, and "popping the question," while his large round eyes shed tears of affection and suspense, and his huge side shook with emotion! Conceive him enduring all the pangs of love-sickness-never telling his love; "concealment, like a worm in the bud, preying upon his damask cheek," while his hard-hearted mistress stood disdainfully by, "like pity on a monument, smiling at grief." Above all, conceive him taking the lover's leap-say from Dunnet or Duncansby-head, where the rocks tower four hundred feet above the Pentland Firth, and floundering in the waters like an enormous whale; the herring shoals hurrying away from his unwieldy gambols, as from the presence of the real sea-born leviathan. Cacus in love was not more grand, or the gigantic Polyphemus, sighing at the feet of Galatea, or infernal Pluto looking amiable beside his ravished queen. Have you seen an elephant in love? If you have, you may conceive what Mr. Tims would be in that interesting situation.

Supper was brought in. It consisted of eggs, cold veal, bacon-ham, and a Welsh rabbit. I must confess, that, perplexed as I was by all the previous events of the evening, I felt a gratification at the present moment, in the anxiety to see how the ManMountain would comport himself at

table. I had beheld his person and his shadow with equal admiration, and I doubted not that his powers of eating were on the same great scale as his other qualifications.-They were indeed. Zounds, how he did eat! Milo of Grotona, who could kill an ox with the blow of his fist, and devour it afterwards, was nothing to him; I felt as if he could consume a whole flock of oxen. He was a Cyclops, a Pantagruel, a Gargantua: his stomach resembled the sieve of the homicidal daughters of Danaus; it was insatiable. Cold veal, eggs, bacon-ham, and Welsh rabbit disappeared "like the baseless fabric of a vision, and left not a wreck behind;" so thoroughly had nine-tenths of them taken up their abode in the bread basket (vide John Bee) of the Man-Mountain; the remaining tenth sufficed for the rest of the company, viz. Julia, her aunt, her aunt's husband, and myself.

Liquor was brought in, to wit, wine, brandy, whisky, and rum. I felt an intense curiosity to see on which of the four Mr. Tims would fix his choice. He fixed upon brandy, and made a capacious tumbler of hot toddy. I did the same, and asked Julia to join me in taking a single glass-I was forestalled by the Man-Mountain. I then asked the lady of the house the same thing, but was forestalled by her husband. These repeated disappointments overwhelmed me with rage and despair; and to add to my other pangs, the fiend of Jealousy, wreathed with snakes like the Fury Tisiphone, appeared before me-for I noticed Julia and Mr. Tims interchanging mutual glances, and blushing deeply when detected. The Man-Mountain was, after all, a person of sensibility-a man of fine feelings-a reader doubtless of the Sketch Book-subject to fits of melancholy, and very sentimental.

Meanwhile, the evening wearing on, the ladies retired, and Mr. Tims, the landlord, and myself, were left to ourselves. This was the signal for a fresh assault upon the brandy-bottle. Another tumbler was made-then an