amuse the public. Loud applause followed, all the louder that the performer professed he was quite willing that Lord John himself should assist in the tying. Nothing could be fairer than this; all seemed charmed by the magnanimity. I wish I could say that the result was as favourable as the opening promised. Unfortunately, however, when the lights came, there he sat with the cords around him, somewhat deranged and disordered indeed, but still sufficiently tied to show he was perfectly powerless, and so exhausted by his efforts besides, that it was necessary to cut the ropes and get him out into the fresh air to recover!

"His friends were much discomfited; his own selfconfidence had seized them, and they went about saying, 'Don't be afraid, he's sure to do it; he has watched John closely; he knows the trick thoroughly,' and so on. And now they were driven to all sorts of devices to explain the failure. They even went so far as to say that in John's case the tyers were accomplices, and the whole thing a 'sell;' others declared that Dizzy would have done it if the lights had not come so soon; that he was not fully ready: but a very shrewd friend of my own told me that it was a knot of his own making-a bit of vainglorious display he had insisted on exhibiting-that

really bound him, and but for this he would have done the trick just as well as the other.

"Of course this brought John back enthusiastically into public favour, and all went about saying he has never failed yet; and though they have got a rope over from America, and even tried some special hemp from Russia, it's all the same; he steps through the meshes, and sits there as free and unconcerned as need be.

"It is true, however, he objects to let a Frenchman tie him a conjuror by profession-a certain Louis Nap, who proposed to test him by what they call 'the Polish Trap.' John demurred, and said it was a game that would never amuse an English public; not to say that the representation was too far off, and in a part of the town very inconvenient to come at. In fact, he made twenty pretexts, and ended by saying that if he were to be bothered any more, he'd remove his lodgings, go and live up-stairs, and give up conjuring altogether.

"Cob and Quaker John are perhaps not on as good terms with him as they were formerly, for they go about grumbling, and darkly hinting what they'd do if they had only another chance with him. My own opinion is, that they'd fail just as they failed before. He is a master of his art. We all of us saw how,

tied and fastened in every direction, his feet to his neck, and his hands to his ankles, he contrived one day to put on Mr Newdegate's coat, and actually wrote a letter to the Bishop of Durham; and before the ink was well dry on it, there he sat in his own clothes, innocently asking who could have composed that indiscreet epistle?

"There is not much music in his performances, I admit. In that respect the Brothers Davenport may beat him; but for the rope trick,' I'll back him against all Yankeedom; and yet few men think less of their 'bonds' than Pennsylvanians."

P.S.-While I write I read that a son of the original juggler has made his first appearance, and the newspapers call it a very successful appearance, before the public. He boldly declares he is prepared to do all the old tricks of his father, and a few new ones especially his own. He called upon a very crowded assembly to test his qualifications, and tie him in any way they pleased; but they were goodhumouredly disposed to applaud his pluck and not prove his efficiency. As they very reasonably observed, what can it possibly signify whether he be tied or loose? I agree with them perfectly; but if he should persist in these appeals, and torment us with a repetition of his challenge, let me suggest one

species of tying that I have never known fail. It has held the most unruly spirits as peaceable as lambs, and requires neither skill nor trouble in the application. It is simply done by a few yards of red tape. The man who has these draped round him, ever so loosely, never struggles any more.

RAIN-RAIN-MUCH RAIN.

OF all the people of small pursuits, I know of none equal to those who chronicle the weather, measure the rainfall, and keep a register of the falling barometer. In the unbroken series of their observations you are led to mark how unceasingly they seem to labour. Watching the clouds night and day, not a drift, not a shower escapes them. Noting each change of wind, they tell you how, at 40 minutes after 2 A.M. on the 17th, the wind changed to S.S.W., and at the same time the moon, being then in the second day of the last quarter, a slight rainfall occurred, after which a fresh breeze sprang up and continued till daybreak.

What hopeless and unprofitable twaddle is this! and why, to record it, should any man sit up all night, to the destruction of his domestic habits and the risk of bronchitis? These things tell nothing— lead to nothing. Mon. Mathieu de la Drôme himself