But Mr.Smith continued unobservant; or at any rate regardless.

"What is like unto thee?
Thou art the irrigating stream which makest fertile the barren plain.

Till thou comest all is dark and dreary; but at thy advent the noontide sun shines out, the earth gives forth her increase; the deep bowels of the rocks render up their tribute.

Forms which were dull and hideous become endowed with grace and beauty, and vegetable existence rises to the scale of celestial life.

Then, too, Genius appears clad in a panoply of translucent armour, grasping in his hand the whole terrestrial surface, and making every rood of earth subservient to his purposes;--Genius, the child of Civilization, the mother of the Arts!" The last little bit, taken from the "Pedigree of Progress," had a great success, and all Barchester went to work with its hands and feet;--all Barchester, except that ill-natured aristocratic front-row together with the three arm-chairs at the corner of it.