him, soon fell asleep. Every now and then he fell against the German, who, becoming highly incensed, put out the point of his elbow for the chasseur to fall against.

"As I journeyed on, I could not but gratefully reflect on the timely and providential succour which had liberated me from all apprehension. We are apt to acknowledge God's goodness in our more striking preservations, and to forget how continually we are indebted to his protecting care. Not only every day, but every hour of our lives, may we exclaim, 'The goodness of God endureth continually.'

"It unfortunately happened that I had given the chasseur my address: on a strip of paper I had written down the name of the hotel at Paris where I intended to take up my abode; and unless I could get possession of this paper, he and the whole Pontoise party, for aught I knew, might again annoy me with their company.

"When we were between Franconville and St. Denis, the grey dawn of the morning appeared; taking out my pencil, I then asked the chasseur for my address, as though I wanted to make some addition to it. did I obtain it, than, fully satisfied he had not committed it to memory, I tore it in pieces and scattered it out of the window, asking if he

No sooner

knew why I did so? He shrank back abashed into his corner, while I related in the best way I could to my new companions the manner in which I had been used. I spoke also to the chasseur, charging him with his roguery, and telling him that if I ever met a Frenchman in England, under the same circumstances as those under which he had met me, I would give him a sovereign rather than wrong him of a single sou.

"Nothing could exceed the attentions of my new friends. In every way they tried to make themselves agreeable, while the chasseur did his best to shrink from notice. We travelled along rapidly, and the moment we arrived at St. Denis, the chasseur leaped out of the voiture, making good his retreat with such precipitation as to leave behind him his ornamented-headed cane, and his beloved brandy bottle, which was found broken."

Old Humphrey, in this narrative, writes as one self-condemned. He seems, however, to have been taught a lesson of discretion by his adventure with the French chasseur, which he was anxious to impress on other tourists, that they might not be beguiled into similar imprudent familiarity with roadside companions and strangers.

The public edifices and gardens of Paris and Versailles afforded to Mr. Mogridge abundant sources of gratification. On leaving the French metropolis, he set out for a walk of one hundred and seventy miles, passing through St. Denis, Moisselles, Beaumont, Abbeville, Nouvion, Montreuil, Boulogne, and Calais. In this ramble he found much that was interesting and pleasurable. Being free from restraint, he wandered as his fancy prompted him; at one tine ruminating within the walls of a fortified town, and at others musing among the châteaux and beautiful prospects of the country. After a leisurely excursion, he returned home with a stock of knowledge that could be turned to practical account, and an increased affection for his native land, which he thus welcomed:

Old England! I loved thee in childhood and youth,

Thou homestead of honour, religion, and truth; Thou land of the brave and the free; giving birth To the fairest, and boldest, and best of the earth. Till reason, affection, and memory depart,

I will fling thee my blessing, dear home of my heart.

Mr. Mogridge preferred to be a traveller of the pedestrian order, as affording more of personal adventure, and better opportunity for

I

admiring the works of God.

"Tis a pleasant

thing," said he,* "when you have health and strength, and good spirits, to travel on foot: you can stop when you like, and turn round, and look at a prospect. You can call at a cottage, and talk to the old woman there as she goes on with her knitting; or loiter in the green lane, pulling down a brier, and plucking the delicious blackberries. You can stand and breathe the fresh air, as it comes over the blossomed beanfield, or gaze at the lambs at play in the knolly pasture. You can creep into the copse, and gather nuts from the hazel-trees, bunches of bright brown shellers; or make a posy of the violets, the cowslips, or the dancing daffodils. All these things you can do, and a hundred others; and as you go on, and your bosom beats with happiness, you can sing of the Divine goodness and mercy with a cheerful heart."

To an ardent and undaunted mind, there was united an agile body, which admirably fitted him for the long pedestrian tours he undertook. In his youthful days he was swift of foot, and few of his companions could outstrip him in a His school-fellows gave him the name of "Greyhound" for his speed, and that of

race.

* "Old Humphrey's Observations," p. 203.

When

Squirrel" for his skill in climbing. he was in advanced life, a friend related to him, somewhat vauntingly, that he had recently walked thirty miles in one day, while journeying through Kent, when Mr. Mogridge quietly observed: "I have been in my time a good walker too. I travelled in Wales, on foot, forty-two miles in one day; but then, it should be remembered, that I had walked forty miles the day previous, and forty miles the day before that one hundred and twenty-two miles in three days. But then," continued he, "I like to travel across the country, not troubling myselt about the roads; and when I come to stiles and ditches, I can readily vault over them." The same active and inquisitive spirit led him to descend the deepest mines, and climb the loftiest hills; to witness operations in surgery, to visit workhouses, hospitals, and lunatic asylums; and to be a general spectator of public sights in all parts of the kingdom.

The love of travel distinguished Mr. Mogridge to the last, although an injury to his ankle, in the latter years of his life, put a stop to his journeyings on foot. Previous, however, to this affliction, he visited the Isle of Wight, and wrote a work for the young, in his own graphic style, descriptive of this "garden of