Ring out false pride in place and blood, Ring in the love of truth and right, Ring out old shapes of foul disease; Ring out the narrowing lust of gold: Ring out the thousand wars of old, Ring in the thousand years of peace. Ring in the valiant man and free, The larger heart, the kindlier hand : Ring out the darkness of the land, Ring in the Christ that is to be. - ALFRED TENNYSON. THE NOBLE NATURE It is not growing like a tree In bulk, doth make man better be; Or standing long an oak, three hundred year, To fall a log at last, dry, bald, and sere; A lily of a day Is fairer far in May, Although it fall and die that night - - BEN JONSON. Bright and pleasant was the sky, balmy the air, and beautiful the appearance of every object around, as Mr. Pickwick leaned over the balustrade of Rochester Bridge, contemplating nature, and waiting for breakfast. The scene was indeed one which might well have charmed a far less reflective mind than that to which it was presented. On the left of the spectator lay the ruined wall, broken in many places, and in some, overhanging the narrow beach below in rude and heavy masses. Huge knots of sea-weed hung upon the jagged and pointed stones, trembling in every breath of wind, and the green ivy clung mournfully round the dark and ruined battlements. Behind it rose the ancient castle, its towers roofless, and its massive walls crumbling away, but telling as proudly of its own might and strength, as when, seven hundred years ago, it rang 1 See note on page 263. 2 Find the definition and pronunciation of these words in the vocabulary. with the clash of arms, or resounded with the noise of feasting and revelry. On either side the banks of the Medway, covered with corn-fields and pastures, with here and there a windmill, or a distant church, stretched away as far as the eye could see, presenting a rich and varied landscape, rendered more beautiful by the changing shadows which passed swiftly across it, as the thin and half-formed clouds skimmed away in the light of the morning sun. The river, reflecting the clear blue of the sky, glistened and sparkled as it flowed noiselessly on; and the oars of the fishermen dipped into the water with a clear and liquid sound, as the heavy but picturesque boats glided slowly down the stream. Mr. Pickwick gazed so long at the landscape that when he returned to the inn he found his three companions had risen, and were waiting his arrival to commence breakfast, which was ready, laid in a tempting display. They sat down to the meal; and broiled ham, eggs, tea, coffee, and sundries began to disappear with a rapidity which at once bore testimony to the excellence of the fare and the appetites of its consumers. "Now, about Manor Farm," said Mr. Pickwick. "How shall we go?" "We had better consult the waiter, perhaps," said Mr. Tupman, and the waiter was summoned accordingly. "Dingley Dell, gentlemen-fifteen miles, gentlemen cross-road-post-chaise, sir?" "Post-chaise won't hold more than two," said Mr. Pick wick. "True, sir-beg your pardon, sir. Very nice four wheeled chaise, sir-seat for two behind - one in front for the gentleman that drives - oh! beg your pardon, sir, that'll only hold three." "What's to be done?" said Mr. Snodgrass. 66 Perhaps one of the gentlemen would like to ride, sir?" suggested the waiter, looking toward Mr. Winkle. "Very good saddle horses, sir,- any of Mr. Wardle's men coming to Rochester can bring them back, sir." "The very thing," said Mr. Pickwick. "Winkle, will you go on horseback?” Mr. Winkle did entertain considerable misgiving in the very lowest recesses of his own heart, relative to his equestrian skill, but, as he would not have them even suspected on any account, he at once replied with great hardihood, "Certainly, I should enjoy it of all things." Mr. Winkle had rushed upon his fate; there was no "Let them be at the door by eleven," said Mr. resource. Pickwick. Very well, sir," replied the waiter. The waiter retired; the breakfast concluded; and the travellers retired to their respective bedrooms to prepare a change of clothing, to take with them on their approaching expedition. Mr. Pickwick had made his preliminary arrangements and was looking over the coffee-room blinds at the passengers in the street, when the waiter entered and announced that the chaise was ready; an announcement which the vehicle itself confirmed, by forthwith appearing before the coffee-room blinds. It was a curious little green box on four wheels, with a low place for two behind, and an elevated seat for one in front, drawn by an immense brown horse, displaying great symmetry of bone. A hostler stood near, holding by the bridle another immense horse-apparently a near relative of the animal in the chaise-ready saddled for Mr. Winkle. "Bless my soul!" said Mr. Pickwick, as they stood upon the pavement while the coats were being put in. "Bless my soul! who's to drive? I never thought of that." "Oh! you, of course," said Mr. Tupman. "Of course," said Mr. Snodgrass. "I!" exclaimed Mr. Pickwick. "Not the slightest fear, sir," interposed the hostler. "Warrant him quiet, sir; a hinfant in arms might drive him." "He doesn't shy, does he?" inquired Mr. Pickwick. "Shy, sir? He wouldn't shy if he was to meet a vaggin-load of monkeys with their tails burnt off." The last recommendation was indisputable. Mr. Tupman and Mr. Snodgrass climbed into the chaise; Mr. |