disbelief of Revelation, superiority must travel further, and so eventually reach the dread conclusions exhibited in the opinions of Pestamorti. The strongest argument therefore on the side of Revelation is, we respectfully submit, its absolute necessity as a Mental Regulator. CHAPTER IX. THE BRIDAL. Last scene of all that ends this strange eventful history. SHAKESPEARE'S As You Like It. SOME weeks after the terrible retribution just related had come to pass, a ceremony of a more pleasing character was taking place in a locality, which though it has not been alluded to for a long period, we trust has not altogether passed away from the recollection of our readers. The spot we allude to is the little village of Twycombe, and the ceremony the marriage of the patriot hero of Marston Moor. The former was in a state of delicious excitement, which made one young again to look upon. The long winding street which we have formerly described as running through its entire length with its thatched cottages dotted about here and there on either hand in surprising irregularity, had been swept according to the testimony of the oldest inhabitant, "clean as a pancake," the little gardens had all been trimmed and made tidy; wreaths of holly, mistletoe, and marigold swayed gaily from every lattice; the village school had been closed and decorated midst the huzzas of the diminutive but aspiring urchins with an imposing red and blue banner, (the colours of the Commonwealth) which measured it is recorded on competent authority no less than two yards by five, and had been actually purchased out of the pocket-money of the little patriots themselves without any assistance from anybody else whatever! and at the end of the long vista, just in front of the ivy-clad church which kept clanging forth merry and deafening peals, a magnificent triumphal arch (entirely of laurels) had been erected under the active supervision of a committee especially appointed for the purpose after a general and very noisy debate in which every man woman and child belonging to that busy little fraternity had enthusiastically joined, consisting of Parson Mumble, Master Scrawl the schoolmaster, and our old friend Dick Harty. But how describe the inimitable glories of the "Foaming Tankard!" To take the solemn affirmation of Mistress Cicely herself (mine host's pretty daughter, lately transformed into Dame Richard Harty), under whose zealous superintendence the whole of the preparations had been carried out, every part, parcel, and particular portion of that celebrated edifice had been turned "topsy turvy," and washed and scrubbed till "the very boards ached;" and as to its tasteful adornment, why it spoke for itself, for the whole of the frontage was a mass of confused and undistinguishable foliage of every known variety, while the doors and windows were so elaborately garnished with evergreens, that you could hardly get through the one or see out of the other! Nor must we overlook, what many staid and calculating observers considered the very pith and marrow of the whole transaction-viz., a mighty hogshead of brown October, which had been carefully hauled out of the cellar, and now stood on a sort of wooden platform ornamented with hollysprigs and marigolds, exactly under the old Trysting-Tree, with a long line of pewter jugs (far brighter than silver) nestling temptingly round it, like good fellows round the Vice at the fag end of a City dinner. As to the Villagers themselves, it is almost needless to say, that they were arrayed in their very best" Sunday best"-the damsels wearing red and blue ribbons dashingly in their caps, and the men rosettes of the same colours in their buttonholes, and that all and each were chattering and laughing, and rushing to and fro in the most VOL. III. N picturesque and unintelligible confusion throughout the entire morning will be easily understood and properly appreciated. Indeed, the Hurry-Skurry received fresh fuel every moment. Now serving-men would gallop wildly through the place at the imminent risk of terminating unexpectedly the existence of tottering crones and mischievous little scapegoats on some domestic errand merely, though from their breathless haste you would have fancied life and death depended on their speed. Then, the neighbouring farmers came dropping in by twos and threes, with their rosy wives and pretty daughters attired in gala costumes, riding jauntily behind their husbands, sweethearts, and brothers. Then, came down the wind, the merry bugle calls of the Twycombe Volunteers; and presently that gallant troop headed by Dick Harty marched triumphantly into the village amidst deafening cheers and wavings of handkerchiefs, and vociferous demonstrations of every description. And old friends greeted one another with hearty shakings of the hand, and kind inquiries about the little members of the domestic circle who were too youthful to grace so great an occasion. Young lovers whispered their hopes to their blushing sweethearts, protesting that there was nothing like following a good example. Bright |