olitely handing me the book. {138b} I
took the volume, and glanced over the contents. It was written in blank
verse, and appeared to abound in descriptions of scenery; there was much
mention of mountains, valleys, streams, and waterfalls, harebells and
daffodils. These descriptions were interspersed with dialogues, which,
though they proceeded from the mouths of pedlars and rustics, were of the
most edifying description; mostly on subjects moral or metaphysical, and
couched in the most gentlemanly and unexceptionable language, without the
slightest mixture of vulgarity, coarseness, or pie-bald grammar. Such
appeared to me to be the contents of the book; but before I could form a
very clear idea of them, I found myself nodding, and a surprising desire
to sleep coming over me. Rousing myself, however, by a strong effort, I
closed the book, and, returning it to the owner, inquired of him,
'Whether he had any motive in coming and lying down in the meadow,
besides the wish of enjoying sleep?' 'None whatever,' he replied;
'indeed, I should be very glad not to be compelled to do so, always
provided I could enjoy the blessing of sleep; for by lying down under
trees, I may possibly catch the rheumatism, or be stung by serpents; and,
moreover, in the rainy season and winter the thing will be impossible,
unless I erect a tent, which will possibly destroy the charm.' 'Well,'
said I, 'you need give yourself no farther trouble about coming here, as
I am fully convinced that with this book in your hand, you may go to
sleep anywhere, as your friend was doubtless aware, though he wished to
interest your imagination for a time by persuading you to lie abroad;
therefore, in future, whenever you feel disposed to sleep, try to read
the book, and you will be sound asleep in a minute; the narcotic
influence lies in the book, and not in the field.' 'I will follow your
advice,' said the individual, 'and this very night take it with me to
bed; though I hope in time to be able to sleep without it, my nerves
being already much quieted from the slumbers I have enjoyed in this
field.' He then moved towards the gate, where we parted; he going one
way, and I and my horse the other.

More than twenty years subsequent to this period, after much wandering
about the world, returning to my native country, I was invited to a
literary tea-party, where, the discourse turning upon poetry, I, in order
to show that I was not more ignorant than my neighbo