after taking a book or a nap for an hour or two, raise our heads, and
find ourselves, somehow or other, fifty miles off--in the country. The
country is a genteel house in a genteel street, or a nice villa in a
row of nice villas, where we are surrounded with all the conveniences
we enjoy at home. The very society is the same; for our friends,
Thomson and Smith, and the whole of that set, have brought their
families to the same place for summer lodgings--it is so agreeable to
be among one's acquaintances. Then we begin to enjoy ourselves: we
have conversation-parties, and dancing-parties, and balls, all the
same as at home. We enjoy our newspaper, as usual, in our comfortable
reading-room. In the morning, we take a stroll or a dip, or drink
water at the Wells, which, although undoubtedly nasty, is undeniably
wholesome. Then there is a steamer in sight, and we all hasten to the
pier, to ascertain if we know anybody on board. Then we dine early,
for one _must_ dine early in the country. Then we take a nap; then
another stroll; then there is another steamer to watch; then we drink
tea; then to the pier again. This time, the vessel's head is pointed
homewards; and as she breaks away from the land, we follow her with
our eyes till she is swallowed up in the distance. Then we turn away
with a sigh; go back to our lodgings; lounge into bed; and fall asleep
in the midst of the delightful sensation of having nothing to do, and
being in the country.

All this _is_ delightful, no doubt; every bit as good as being at
home. Our aim, in fact, is to carry home with us--to feel as if we had
never left No. 24. The closer the resemblance between our country
lodgings and our town-house, the better we are off; for we then get
what we have come for--change of air--without any sacrifice of
comfort.

But we doubt whether 'change of air' has so limited a meaning.
Hygienically speaking, it includes, we suspect, change of habits,
change of diet, change of company, change of thought. The miseries of
the old country lodgings were better for the health than the comforts
of the new. The very grumbling they gave rise to was a wholesome
exercise. The short allowance was worth a whole pharmacopoeia. The
ravenous appetite that fastened upon things common and unclean was a
glorious symptom. We came back strengthened in mind as well as body.
Our country sojourn had the effect of foreign travel in opening the
heart and expanding the intellect; it smooth