to weene,

sun;

but they are not always round, nor always so bright as the true sun; and when several appear, which is sometimes the case, some are brighter than the others. They are tinged, externally, with colours like the rainbow-the red and yellow are on the side towards the sun, and the blue and violet on the other. Many of them have a long fiery tail (some parhelia have been observed with two tails, and others with three), opposite to the sun, growing paler towards the extremity. These tails mostly appear in a white horizontal circle, commonly passing through all the parhelia, and would go through the sun, if it were entire. There are halos, or coran sometimes seen without parhelia, and vice versa.

M. Huygens, on applying his attention to these appearances, was soon sensible that they could not arise from such globules as formed the halos; yet, since parhelia are attended with halos, he was satisfied that their causes must be much alike. Considering, then, what other figures hail-stones might possibly have, besides a spherical one, he could find no other so simple as that of a cylinder; and, indeed, he had often observed, that snow did consist of several slender oblong particles, mixed with those of other shapes and seeing that sufficient small globules were for the production of halos, he imagined that a great number of small cylinders, floating in the air, might produce similar appearances. He, also, remembered that Descartes had taken notice of certain small columns, which he had seen lying on the ground, the extremities of which

were bounded with flat star-like figures, consisting of six rays.

The large white horizontal circle, observed in some of these phenomena, M. Huygens supposed to be produced by the reflection of the sun's rays from the outsides of the upright cylinders; since, when the sun shines upon a number of such cylinders, suspended in the air, a white circle must necessarily appear to pass through the sun, parallel to the horizon. This he shews very distinctly by a large figure of a cylinder, and by pointing out the progress of the sun's rays reflected from it. For every point of the sun's verticle diameter, as well as his centre, will illuminate a circle of cylinders, of the same apparent height as the illuminating point. It is observable that no thick clouds are seen in the air when these circles appear; but only such as are very thin, and scarcely visible. For, in most of these observations, the sky is said to have been very clear and serene, which very well agrees with this hypothesis; since these minute cylinders must constitute a very thin cloud, uniformly extended, through which the sun, and even the blue colour of the sky may be seen.

Mariotte accounts for the appearance of parhelia from an infinity of small particles of ice floating in the air, which multiply the image of the sun, either by refracting or breaking his rays, and, thus, making him appear where he is not, or by reflecting them, and serving as mirrors.

We have on record, an account of parhelia seen at Rome, in March, 1629: at this time four

were observed, one of which was very much tinged with various colours, like the rainbow; and the others, more faintly so. Some were also observed by Cassini, in Cassini, in 1683. In England and Scotland, two have frequently been seen at a time. In North America, they are often seen, and continue for hours; nay, sometimes for several daysbeing visible from sun-rise to sun-set; when these disappear, it generally rains, or there falls snow in the form of oblong spicula. M. Aepinus apprehends that parhelia, with elliptical corona, are more frequent in the northern regions; and those with circular ones in the south

own part, a lover of the game of whist, and should oftener be seen in those places where it is played for trifles, if I was not offended at the manners of my friends. How common it is with some people, at the conclusion of every unsuccessful hand of cards, to burst forth into sallies of fretful complaints of their own amazing ill-fortune, and the constant and invariable success of their antagonists! They have such excellent memories as to be able to recount every game they have lost for six months successively, and yet are so extremely forgetful at the same time, as not to recollect a single game that they have won. Or if you put them in mind of any extraordinary success that you have been witness to, they acknowledge it with reluctance, and assure you upon their honours, that in a whole twelvemonths' play, they never rose winners but that once.

In fashionable life, indeed, where every one is acting behind the mask of good-breeding, and where nature is never seen to peep out but upon very extraordinary occasions, frequent convulsions of the features, flushings succeeded by paleness, twistings of the body, fits of the fidgets, and complaints of immoderate heat, are the only symptoms of ill-fortune. But if we travel eastward from St. James's, and visit the territories of my good lord-mayor, we shall see nature stript of her masquerade, and hear gentlemen and ladies speaking the language of the heart.

For the entertainment of polite life, and because polite life is sometimes a little in want of entertainment, I shall set down a conversation that passed a few

nights ago, at an assembly in Thames-street, between two fretters, at a whist-table; one of which had a beautiful daughter of eighteen years of age, leaning upon her mother's chair.

"Five trumps, two honours, and lose four by cards! But I believe, madam, you never lost a game in the whole course of your life."

"Now and then, madam."

"Not in the memory of your daughter, I believe and miss is not extremely young neither. Clubs are trumps-Well! if ever I play again!-You are three by cards, madam-"

"And two by honours. I had them in my own hand."

"I beg your pardon, madam; I had really forgot whose deal it

was.

But I thought the clovenfooted gentleman had left off teaching. Pray, madam, will he expect more than one's soul for half a dozen lessons?"

"You are pleased to be severe, madam; but you know I am not easily put out of temper. What's the trump?"

I was extremely pleased with the cool behaviour of this lady, and could not help whispering to her daughter, "You have a sweet tempered mamma, miss. How happy would it be if every lady of her acquaintance was so amiably disposed!" I observed that miss blushed and looked down; but I was ignorant of the reason, till, all at once, her mamma's good fortune changed, and her adversary, by holding the four honours in her own hand, and by the assistance of her partner won the game at a

deal.

"And now, madam," cried the patient lady, "is it you or I who

have bargained with the devil? I declare it upon my honour I never won a game against you in my life. Indeed, I should wonder if I had, unless there had been a curtain between you and your partner. But one as a fine time on't indeed! to be always losing, and yet always to be baited for winning; I defy any one to say, that I ever rose a winner in my born days. There was last summer at Tunbridge! Did any human creature see me so much as win a game? And ask Mr. A. and Sir Richard B. and Dean C. and lord and lady D. and all the company at Bath this winter, if I did not lose two or three guineas every night at half-crown whist, for two months together. But I did not fret and talk of the devil, madam no, madam; nor did I

:

trouble the company with my losings, nor play the after-game, nor say provoking things-No, madam; I leave such behaviour to ladies that-'

"Lord! my dear, how you heat yourself! You are absolutely in a passion. Come let us cut for partners."

Which they immediately did; and happening to get together, and to win the next game, they were the best company, and the civilest people, I ever saw.

Many of my readers may be too ready to conceive an ill opinion of these ladies; but I have the pleasure of assuring them, from undoubted authority, that they are in all other respects very excellent people, and so remarkable for patience and goodhumour, that one of them has been known to lose her husband, and both of them their reputations, without the least emotion

or concern.

A COUNTRY INN ON A WET SUNDAY.

It was a rainy Sunday, in the gloomy month of November. I had been detained, in the course of a journey, by a slight indisposition, from which I was recovering; but I was still feverish, and was obliged to keep within doors all day, in an inn of the small town of Derby. A wet Sunday in a country inn! whoever has had the luck to experience one, can alone judge of my situation. The rain pattered against the casements; the bells tolled for church with a melancholy sound. I went to the windows in quest of something to amuse the eye; but it seemed as if I had been placed completely out of the reach of all amusement. The windows of

my bed-room looked out among tiled roofs and stacks of chimneys, while those of my sittingroom commanded a full view of the stable-yard. I know of nothing more calculated to make a man sick of this world than a stable-yard on a rainy day. The place was littered with wet straw, that had been kicked about by travellers and stable-boys. In one corner was a stagnant pool of water, surrounding an island of muck; there were several half-drowned fowls, crowded together under a cart, among which was a miserable, crestfallen cock, drenched out of all life and spirit; his drooping tail matted, as it were, into a single feather, along which the water trickled from his back; near the cart was a half-drowned cow, chewing the cud, and standing patiently to be rained on, with wreaths of vapour rising from her reeking hide; a wall-eyed

horse, tired of his stable, was poking his spectral head out of a window, with the rain dripping on it from the eaves; an unhappy cur, chained to a dog-house hard by, uttered something every now and then, between a bark and a yelp; a drab of a kitchen-wench tramped backwards and forwards through the yard in pattens, look ing as sulky as the weather itself: every thing, in short, was comfortless and forlorn, excepting a crew of hard-drinking ducks, assembled like boon companions round a puddle, and making a riotous noise over their liquor.

I was lonely and listless, and wanted amusement. My room soon became insupportable. I abandoned it, and sought, what is technically called, the travellers'-room. This is a public room set apart at most inns for the accommodation of a class of wayfarers, called travellers, or riders a kind of commercial knights-errant, who are incessantly scouring the kingdom in gigs, on horseback, or by coach. They are the only successors that I know of at the present day, to the knights-errant of yore. They lead the same kind of roving adventurous life, only changing the lance for a driving-whip, the buckler for a pattern-card, and the coat of mail for an upper benjamin. Instead of vindicating the charms of peerless beauty, they rove about, spreading the fame and standing of some substantial tradesman, or manufacturer, and are ready, at any time, to bargain in his name; it being the fashion now-a-days to trade, instead of fight, with one another. As the room of the hotel, in the good old fighting times, would be hung round at

night with the armour of wayworn warriors, such as coats of mail, falchions, and yawning helmets; so the travellers'-room is garnished with the harnessing of their successors-box-coats, whips of all kinds, spurs, gaiters, and oilcloth covered hats.

I was in hopes of finding some of these worthies to talk with, but was disappointed. There were, indeed, two or three in the room; but I could make nothing of them. One was just finishing his breakfast, quarrelling with his bread and butter, and huffing the waiter; another buttoning on a pair of gaiters, with many execrations at boots for not having cleaned his shoes well; a third sat drumming on the table with his fingers, looking at the rain, as it streamed down the window-glass-they all appeared infected by the weather, and disappeared, one after the other, without exchanging a word.

I sauntered to the window, and stood gazing at the people, picking their way to church, with petticoats hoisted mid-leg high, and dripping umbrellas. The bell ceased to toll, and the streets became silent. I then amused myself with watching the daughters of a tradesman opposite; who, being confined to the house for fear of wetting their Sunday finery, played off their charms at the front windows, to fascinate the chance tenants of the inn. They, at length, were summoned away by a vigilant vinegar-faced mother, and I had nothing further from without to amuse me.

What was I to do to pass away the long-lived day? I was sadly nervous and lonely; and every