against son, brother against brother, friend
against friend; and made the whole of
Burningshame one sty of gluttony, drunkenness,
avarice, lying, false-swearing, waste,
want, ill-will, contention, and depravity. In
short, if the Member's visit had lasted very
long (which happily it did not) the place
must have become a hell upon earth for
several generations. And all this, these spirits
did, with a wickedness peculiar to their
accursed state: perpetually howling that it
was pure and glorious, that it was free
and independent, that it was Old England for
ever, and other scraps of malignant mockery.

Matters had arrived at this pitch, not only
in Burningshame, but, as already observed, in
an infinite variety of other places, when Mr.
Bull—having heard, perhaps, some rumours
of these disasters—recalled the various
Members of his family to his house in town. They
were no sooner assembled, than all the old
noises broke out with redoubled violence;
the same extraordinary confusion prevailed
among the furniture; the cobweb and fungus
thickened with greater fecundity than before;
and the multitude of spirits in the lobbies
and passages bellowed, and yelled, and made
a dismal noise—described to be like the
opening and shutting up of heavy cases—for
weeks together.

But even this was not the worst. Mr. Bull
now found, on questioning his family, that
those evil spirits, the Attorneys and the
Parliamentary Agents, had obtained such strong
possession of many Members, that they (those
members of Mr. Bull's family) stood in awe
of the said spirits, and even while they
pretended to have been no parties to what the
spirits had done, constantly defended and
sided with them, and said among themselves
that if they carried the spirits over this bad
job, the spirits would return the compliment
bye and bye. This discovery, as may readily
be believed, occasioned Mr. Bull the most
poignant anguish, and he distractedly looked
about him for any means of relieving his
haunted house of their dreadful presence.
An implement called a ballot box (much
used by Mr. Bull for domestic purposes) being
recommended as efficacious, Mr. Bull
suggested to his family the expediency of trying
it; but, so many of the Members roared out
"Un-English!" and were echoed in such fearful
tones, and with such great gnashing of
teeth, by the whole of the spirits in the
passages and lobbies, that Mr. Bull (who is in
some things of a timid disposition) abandoned
the idea for the time, without at all knowing
what the cry meant.

The house is still in the fearful condition
described, and the question with Mr. Bull is,
What is to be done with it? Instead of
getting better it gets worse, if possible, every
night. Fevered by want of rest; confused by
the perpetual gush of words, and dragging of
weights; blinded by the tossings from side
to side; bewildered by the clamour of the
spirits; and infected by the doings at
Burningshame and elsewhere; too many of the
Members of Mr. Bull's family (as Mr. Bull
perceives with infinite regret) are beginning
to conceive that what is truth and honor out
of Mr. Bull's house, is not truth and honor
in it. That within those haunted precincts a
gentleman may deem words all sufficient, and
become a miserable quibbler. That the whole
world is comprised within the haunted house
of Mr. Bull, and that there is nothing outside
to find him out, or call him to account. But
this, as Mr. Bull remarks, is a delusion of
a haunted mind; there being within his
experience (which is pretty large) a good deal
outside—Mr. Bull thinks, quite enough to pull
his house about his family's ears, as soon as it
ceases to be respected.

This is the present state of the haunted
house. Mr. Bull has a fine Indian property,
which has fallen into some confusion, and.
requires good management and just stewardship;
but, as he says himself, how can he
properly attend to his affairs in such an uproar?
His younger children stand in great need of
education, and must be sent to school
somewhere; but how can he clear his mind to
balance the different prospectuses of rival
establishments in this perturbed condition?
Holy water has been tried—a pretty
large supply having been brought from
Ireland—but it has not the least effect,
though it is spouted all over the floor, in
profusion, every night. "Then," says Mr.
Bull, naturally much distressed in his mind,
"what am I to do, sir, with this house of
mine? I can't go on in this way. All about
Burningshame and those other places is well
known. It won't do. I must not allow the
Members of my family to bring disease upon
the country on which they should bring
health; to load it with disgrace instead of
honour; with their dirty hands to soil the
national character on the most serious
occasions when they come in contact with it;
and with their big talk to set up one
standard of morality for themselves and
another for the multitude. Nor must I be
put off in this matter, for it presses. Then
what am I to do, sir, with this house of
mine?"

OVER THE WATER.

ON the second of March, seventeen hundred
and eighty-four, the greater part of the
population of Paris were assembled on the Plaine
des Sablons, to enjoy a spectacle which was
as yet a complete novelty to that inquisitive
and light-hearted capital. The object of
attraction was nothing less than an aerostatic
ascent, similar to that which the brothers
Montgolfier had accomplished two years
previously at the Château de la Muette.
Towards noon the balloon was filled, and ready
to mount in the air; beneath it was
suspended a wicker car, whose humble material