to
be plain, a season so regardless of truth, that nobody believes him till
frost has hung an ice-padlock on his mouth, and his many-river'd voice
is dumb under the wreathed snows.

"Cleanliness when travelling," observes the Doctor, "is doubly
necessary; to sponge the body every morning with tepid water, and then
rub it dry with a rough towel, will greatly contribute to preserve
health. To put the feet into warm water for a couple of minutes just
before going to bed, is very refreshing, and inviting to sleep; for
promoting tranquillity, both mental and corporeal, a clean skin may be
regarded as next in efficacy to a clear conscience."

Far be it from us to seek to impugn such doctrine. A dirty dog is a
nuisance not to be borne. But here the question arises--who--what--is a
dirty dog? Now there are men (no women) naturally--necessarily--dirty.
They are not dirty by chance--or accident--say twice or thrice per diem;
but they are always dirty--at all times and in all places--and never and
nowhere more disgustingly so than when figged out for going to church.
It is in the skin, in the blood--in the flesh, and in the bone--that
with such the disease of dirt more especially lies. We beg pardon--no
less in the hair. Now, such persons do not know that they are
dirty--that they are unclean beasts. On the contrary, they often think
themselves pinks of purity--incarnations of carnations--impersonations
of moss-roses--the spiritual essences of lilies, "imparadised in form of
that sweet flesh." Now, were such persons to change their linen every
half-hour, night and day, that is, were they to put on forty-eight clean
shirts in the twenty-four hours--and it might not be reasonable,
perhaps, to demand more of them under a government somewhat too
Whiggish--yet though we cheerfully grant that one and all of the shirts
would be dirty, we as sulkily deny that at any given moment from sunrise
to sunset, and over again, the wearer would be clean. He would be just
every whit and bit as dirty as if he had known but one single shirt all
his life--and firmly believed his to be the only shirt in the universe.

Men again, on the other hand, there are--and, thank God, in great
numbers--who are naturally so clean, that we defy you to make them _bona
fide_ dirty. You may as well drive down a duck into a dirty puddle, and
expect lasting stains on its pretty plumage. Pope says the same thing of
swans--that is, Poets--when speaking of Aaron Hill div