country. The one naturally collected wealth,
whilst the other could not without participating
in the prosperity of the plain. And I attributed
the extreme poverty of Uri and Unterwalden
to their being exclusively mountain cantons;
whilst Schwytz, for example, that was mixed
in its condition and nature, was far happier,
more progressive, and more wealthy. This
was, however, pure heresy to the good folk of
Uri, who considered their first privilege that
of forming an independent canton steeped
in poverty; even the rule of its pastoral
government hanging like a millstone around
the neck of the few proprietors. Such a
propositionas that made them, seemed as unwelcome
as the marriage of their sister with
the Moderate of Lucerne. The marriage,
however, took place ; for women in the
mountains have a will. But whether years have
wrought further changes in the social habits
and landed tenure of Uri, is yet to be
discovered.

HYDE PARK.

I remember once to have been shown by a
celebrated living physiologist, the breathing
lung of a frog — to have watched, focussed in
the microscope, the apparatus at work which
supports the ever-burning lamp of life.
Distinctly within the narrow field of vision I
could see the dark red blood globules, rushing
in a tumultuous tide along the transparent
veins, then pacing slowly as the veins broke
up into a delicate net-work of little vessels,
so narrow that they could only pass in Indian
file; then again I beheld them debouching
into the widening arteries, where they
commenced once more their mad race, one over
the other: no longer purple, but — under the
influence of the air, which in their slow
progress had permeated them — a brilliant scarlet.

With that curious spectacle fresh in my
recollection, I will, in imagination at least,
change " the field " of the microscope for that
of the air, and suspend myself in a balloon
over this mighty city of millions. Slowly,
as I rise, casting out sand in the ascent,
the earth seems to recede from me, and
at last all is gray mist, and a few fleecy
clouds. A little adjustment of the sand bags
and the escape valve, and I can focus London
as the physiologist did the frog's lung in the
microscope. Directly underneath me, hemmed
in by a huddled mass of brick and stone, lies
a large open space, traversed by wide white
lines, along which crowd and jostle a flood of
small dark spots, no bigger than the heads of
pins — out of these wide lines branch an
infinite net-work of small lines across the
open space, sprinkled with many dots, which
fall in crowds once more into the wide white
lines. The small dots which enter the open
space look pale and worn; as they circulate
about, their colour changes; they move quicker
and lighter; and at last roll out of the great
space, florid and bright.

Surely I have only been looking at the
frog's lung again, magnified a little more!

No, I have been peering at Hyde Park,
watching Rotten Row, and the drive, and
the different pathways crowded with holiday
people. I have been looking at a lung, too;
for what are all these dark points, but people
representing blood globules, which, in the
aggregate compose the great tide of life ? And
what is this park but an aerator to the race,
as the one I before looked at was to the
individual?

Let me descend to a more minute anatomy
of the great pulmonic space: dropping myself
just inside the beautiful screen of Hyde
Park corner. Five o'clock, and Rotten Row
alive with equestrians! Far away between
majestic elms, now gently dipping into the
hollow, now slightly ascending the uneven
ground, made as soft and as full as horse-
traps can make it, runs, in the very eye of the
setting sun, this superb horse promenade.
And here comes a goodly company, seven
abreast, sweeping along with slackened rein;
the young athletes on the Elgin, marbles
yonder upon the frieze of the screen, do not
seem more a portion of their horses than
these gay young fellows, whispering courtesies
to the ladies so bright-eyed and supple of
waist, who gently govern with delicate small
hands their fiery-eyed steeds. Single riders
trot steadily past as though they were doing
it for a wager. Dandies drawl along,
superbly indifferent to everything about them,
with riding-sticks "based on hip." And
when I reach Albert Gate, all Belgravia
seems pouring out through the narrow
streets on prancing, dancing, arch-necked
steeds. Where all the horses come from is
the wonder to me. As far as the eye can
see, out far into Kensington, where the
perspective of the road is lost in feathery birch-
trees, I see nothing but prancing, dancing
horses, tossing their heads, caracolling,
humbly obeying the directions of delicate
wrists, or chafing at the curb of powerful
bridle-hands. Nor do they end here; over
the bridge and round the drive, the contingents
from Tyburnia pour along in troops;
and now, as I come to the corner of
Kensington Gardens, there is a perfect congestion
of equestrians, listening to the band of
the Life Guards playing a waltz. There
they are, ranged round the great trees,
English men and maidens, and English horses,
all thoroughbred — as noble a group as the
wide world can show, whilst over all the
thick fan-like green leaves of the chestnut
trees cast a pleasant shade.

Meanwhile the drive is gorged with carriages
moving along at a footpace. Let me constitute
myself (for the nonce) a young man about
town, and comfortably resting my arms over
the railings, take a good stare at the passing
beauty. I need not feel bashful. As far as I can
see, for hundreds of feet on each side of me,
there is nothing but young men leaning over