p with him; but as to the earthly gifts
you expect, he has scattered them all among a throng of
Yesterdays.'"

There is a nice bit of painting, as an artist might say, under the
title of "The Old Apple-dealer." We have seen the very man in England.
We had marked it for quotation, but it is too long, and we do not wish
to mar its effect by mutilation.

In the "Celestial Railroad," we have a new Pilgrim's Progress
performed by _rail_. Instead of the slow, solitary, pensive pilgrimage
which John Bunyan describes, we travel in fashionable company, and in
the most agreeable manner. A certain Mr Smooth-it-away has eclipsed
the triumphs of Brunel. He has thrown a viaduct over the Slough of
Despond; he has tunnelled the hill Difficulty, and raised an admirable
causeway across the valley of Humiliation. The wicket gate, so
inconveniently narrow, has been converted into a commodious
station-house; and whereas it will be remembered there was a long
standing feud in the time of Christian between one Prince Beelzebub
and his adherents (famous for shooting deadly arrows) and the keeper
of the wicket gate, this dispute, much to the credit of the worthy and
enlightened directors, has been pacifically arranged on the principle
of mutual compromise. The Prince's subjects are pretty numerously
employed about the station-house. As to the fiery Apollyon, he was, as
Mr Smooth-it-away observed, "The very man to manage the engine," and
he has been made chief stoker.

"One great convenience of the new method of going on pilgrimage we
must not forget to mention. Our enormous burdens, instead of being
carried on our shoulders, as had been the custom of old, are all
snugly deposited in the luggage-van." The company, too, is most
distinguished and fashionable; the conversation liberal and polite,
turning "upon the news of the day, topics of business, politics, or
the lighter matters of amusement; while religion, though indubitably
the main thing at heart, is thrown tastefully into the background."
The train stops for refreshment at Vanity Fair. Indeed, the whole
arrangements are admirable--up to a certain point. But it seems there
are difficulties _at the other terminus_ which the directors have not
hitherto been able to overcome. On the whole, we are left with the
persuasion that it is safer to go the old road, and in the old
fashion, each one with his own burden upon his shoulders.

The story of "Roger Malvin's burial" is well told,