But this was denied me; for there were no folds, still less pastoral reeds, least of all a lodge to whistle from, and not even a cock to crow. In short, all seemed dreary and uninhabited, when, on a sudden, the road beginning to descend a little, I beheld a thatch with a garden under me, and a good-natured looking yeoman, smoking his evening pipe, leaning over the gate. You may suppose I addressed him, and asked if that was the way to Whitby, and whether he thought I could reach it that night.

"Not in your shay," replied he, shaking the ashes out of his pipe, which he had just finished; "nor even on horseback, if thou dost not know the way over the fells; and the chances are, thou wilt have but a cold lodging."

"I fear so," said I, shrugging, and looking wistfully at his snug cottage roof with a casemented window in it, which I thought looked more comfortable than any casement I had ever seen; "but what am I to do?"

"I would offer thee house-room," replied the goodnatured yeoman, "though but a poor place for such a gentleman as you, if there warnt a much better thing close by."

"I see nothing," observed I, looking round.

"That's because them black pines, on the brow of the hill, stand between you and it; but, if you will go on, you will see the sign of 'The Swan,' and, a stone'sthrow beyond, 'Traveller's Rest,' just round the corner and a nice inn it be-the best ale and backy in all these parts, though I say it, and landlord be my first cousin."

Delighted at what I thought a deliverance, I thanked my new friend, and was proceeding, when he stopped me a minute to say, that, it being Saturday, it was club-night, and perhaps the best parlour might be taken up at first, but would soon be clear. "Oh!" said I, "I will not interfere with them. A benefit-club, I suppose?"

"Yes, sure enough a benefit," returned he; "but a benefit for Tim landlord; not what you suppose: and, truth to say, they ought to keep his tap agoing, since he have lost so much by them."

"A publican lose by a club!" said I.

"Yes! and all along of that swarm of Methodists in the village below."

"What!" said I, "the Methodists are thick even in these moors!"

"Ay, enough and to spare," returned he, seeing that I lingered as if for a talk: "and yet they be not all Methodists neither, for they have two or three worships; but we don't know what their doctrine be, so we calls them all Methodists for convenience."

Amused rather with this, and as "The Swan" or "Traveller's Rest" was said to be so near, I gave a minute to more information from the good yeoman (who seemed not at all averse to afford it me) concerning the parties and sects of what he called the township, though it did not, he said, including all outlying dwellings, contain more than two or three hundred inhabitants. Judge my surprise, therefore, to find, that such were the church divisions among them, that perhaps not more than fifty people could

be found joining in the same form of worship, though the particular creeds, or even denominations, of each class were far beyond the learning of my new friend to communicate. All that I could gather was, that all the sects, if in nothing else, agreed in cordially hating the orthodox church, which was, by degrees, left almost destitute of communicants. This however, as far as I could learn, was more owing to the intolerance of the last rector, than any great discontent with the doctrine, as my friend said, "in the Prayer Book," which, he allowed, was good enough. "But the last Doctor," he continued, "would, on no account, let any body go to heaven his own way, or unless he went through him. All others, he said, were damned, and would go into fire and brimstone; and he shunned them as much as if they were already there. Not satisfied with this, his reverence forbade the faithful (that is, his own congregation) from all communication with the condemned; and, being in bad health, he formed some of them into a club, under the direction of the parish clerk, who almost exceeded him in zeal. These met at The Swan' once a week, and drank each a pint to Church and King, and confusion to t'other side. But," continued my informant, "though this at first ware a benefit for Tim, in the end he lost by it; for, whereas he ware before of no party like, and every body drank his ale, all the t'other side now joined against him for setting up the club, though it ware all Doctor's doing, and they all went to 'Spotted Dog' for their beer, though it ware half a mile farther off."

Here my host paused; but seeing I seemed interested in his account, and flattered by it, he went on to tell me that things were now much better "sin' t'old Doctor died and t' new Doctor comed; for t' present reverend," he said, "ware quite a different person, and preached goodwill to all, and wanted to put down the club, only the clerk, who was firmer than told Doctor himself, had always opposed it, because he liked being in the chair. But they ware dropping off," said he, "one by one, and the folks were coming back to Traveller's Rest,' much to Tim landlord's delight, who said that publicans ought to have no religion at all; that is," said the yeoman, explaining himself, "no particular one. For this t' others twitted him, and teased him out of the Testament, which indeed, you know, always puts publicans and sinners together, as if they were one and the same thing."

I was more amused than ever with this gossip of my rural friend. Such people, you know, are my favourite game; but, desirous of securing my reception at the "Traveller's Rest," I took leave of him with many thanks for his pleasant discourse, and proceeded on the road he had directed, in which I found he was a correct guide. I had no sooner, therefore, turned the corner of the hill he had pointed out, than I saw I was in the middle of a small hamlet, wild enough, but in which "The Swan and Traveller's Rest" stood most conspicuously superior to all the surrounding buildings. What struck me was a most ponderous sign, fixed on a spreading tree opposite the door, and containing a most grim, though snowy,

swan, chained with fetters of gold to a rock, and having this ingenious inscription under it:

"A Swan I am, you plainly see,

Chain'd to a rock, nail'd to a tree;
The reason why I am chain'd here's
Because Tim Johnson sells good beer."

Over the door also, on a board, in large gold letters, was the inscription of "The Traveller's Rest."

Though it was now dusk, I observed, in front of the house, a tall mild-looking man in a shovel hat and a full suit of black, whom I rightly judged to be the present reverend, of whom my friend the yeoman had talked so honourably. He was discoursing with several peasant-looking people, who seemed very attentive, but who made way for me as I drove up, and was saluted by the landlord with the usual obeisances. On my observing that I had come from Scarborough, but was quite out of my way, and supposed I could not get to Whitby without a guide, " Nor even with one, at this time of the evening," said the gentleman with the shovel hat, touching it with great civility as he advanced. This made the landlord himself suspend the reply he meditated; for, though on the steps of his own house, he, as well as all the rest, seemed respectfully to await the intentions of their rector. Mr. Fairbrother (for that was his name) then went on very civilly to say, he feared I had been much misdirected, for there was no way for wheels over the fells, and that I ought to have continued the road without ascending the hill.

"I thought as much," I said, pleased with the interest he seemed to take in the matter; "but I own