dinners he and the deceased had enjoyed at
the Lubber's head in Lombard Street, follow;
and Dumbleton, who would not—with
Bardolph for security— trust him satin
enough to make a cloak, would be a looker-on.
Dumb, the minister, would read the
solemn burial service, and between the pauses
would be heard the roaring of the river, as it
rushed through the narrow arches of old
London Bridge. Old Jane Nightwork, in
her shabby attire, would mingle with the
assembled crowd. Then the funeral procession
would return, and that would be the last
time a respectable company assembled in the
Old Boar's Head.

On an alter day, Henry the Fifth would
ride by, with the plaudits of assembled
thousands ringing in his ears, after the great
victory he had won at Agincourt. Perhaps he
would look at the old house, as he passed, then
shut up, and in ruins, and would think of his
old hostess, who had died in the hospital—of
Falstaff, who slept his long sleep in the green
churchyard by the river-side— of the happy
days, when he played the part of drawer,
within those decaying walls—and sigh for the
sound sleep he enjoyed there, before he found
his kingly crown a

     Polished perturbation, golden care,
     That kept the ports of slumber open wide
     To many a watchful night,

and bringing troubles he never dreamed of
while he was called "a Corinthian, a lad of
mettle, a good boy," by every drawer in the
Old Boar's Head.

ROUTINE

What is this routine of which we hear
so many loud complaints?  It is merely a
business, and is not only harmless, but useful
in its proper subordinate place.  Then what
do we mean by stupid, mischievous, fatal
Routine.  The greatest disorder carried on
under an appearance of order ;  the
employment of means without a reference to the
end; the part setting up itself as independent
of the whole to which it belongs; the
automaton imitating the work of the living,
thinking man; these are so many contributions
to a full definition of bad routine.  It is
the work of grave fools employed

    " In dropping buckets into empty wells,
      And growing old in drawing nothing up."

He was an old routinier who locked the
stable-door, after the horse had been stolen.
Another of the same family started a
slow-coach to compete with the rail. Routine,
when he wears the black gown, goes on
mumbling to Thirteenthly, while the
congregation snores. In other characters, he plays
the organ while nobody blows the bellows;
marches up the hill in order to march down
again; fixes pumps where there is no water;
sinks shafts where there is no coal; serves
out rations of beef to vegetarians; and has
always a good supply of heavy clothing, and
Witney blankets ready for hot weather.

The ancestry of Routine is respectable, and
may generally be traced to some relationship
with reality. As an example —it is
said that among the Mongol Tatars, prayers
are offered to Buddha by means of small
wheels placed across streams, and turned by
the water. So many turns; so many
prayers ! The devout routinier sets his little
wheel in motion, then smokes his pipe, or
goes to sleep, and wakes with a consciousness
of having prayed so long. Most probably,
in earlier times, the water-wheel served as a
rosary, or as an accompaniment to some real
act of piety. The reality was forgotten; the
form, or routine, remained, Would the reader
understand how the kernel may perish while
the shell is carefully hoarded; how the life,
the informing spirit may depart, and leave in
good preservation all the red tape, parchment,
and other integuments of the body;
let him read our simple parable of the Water
Carriers.

THE WATER CARRIERS,

In the land of Routine—a rather extensive
region—the people had long suffered from a
scarcity of pure water, and it was well-known
that diseases and deaths were caused by
drinking from polluted streams. To remedy
the evil, a few benevolent and laborious
explorers devoted themselves to the work of
bringing down pure water from a neighbouring
hilly country. The results of their enterprise
were hailed with the greatest delight,
and men, women, and children, who were
dying of thirst, revived: when they caught a
glimpse of the sparkling fluid. The original
water-carriers were decked with badges and
honoured as saviours of the people; while
the yokes and buckets used in the first
journey to the springs were preserved among
national trophies.

Thus the original Guild of Water Carriers
was founded. It became numerous and
powerful, and, in the course of time, made
great improvements in its resources. Instead
of the simple means first used, pipes and
cisterns were laid down, to conduct water
from the hills into the dwelling of every man
in the land, and reasonable rates for the use
of these advantages were cheerfully paid by
the people. The water company was, indeed,
the chief organ of life, industry, and progress
all over the country.

But when public spirit had declined,
and indolence had followed success, the
members of the guild began to regard
their own welfare as something separate
from that of the people. They preserved
their badges, made a parade of the original
buckets, and asserted their own exclusive