n,
or something of that sort. But the document ought to read "Died of the
weather."

Poets have sung the glory of snowy landscapes, and there is no prettier
sight than the earth covered with a virgin mantle, on which the trees
gleam like silver jewels. But what an abomination snow is in cities. The
slush seems all the blacker for its whiteness, and the pure flakes turn
into the vilest mud. Men and horses are in a purgatory. Gloom sits
on every face. Pedestrians trudge along, glaring at each other with
murderous eyes; and the amount of swearing done is enough to prove the
whole thing a beastly mistake.

It seems perfectly clear that when the Lord designed the weather, two or
three hundred million years ago, he forgot that men would build cities.
He continues to treat us as agriculturalists, even in a manufacturing
and commercial country like this. "Why should people get drenched
in Fleet-street while the Buckinghamshire farmers want rain? The
arrangement is obviously stupid. God Almighty ought to drop the rain
and snow in the country, and only turn on enough water in the cities
to flush the sewers. He ought also to let the rain fall in the night.
During the daytime we want the world for our business and pleasure, and
the Rain Department should operate when we are snug in bed. This is
a reforming age. Gods, as well as men, must move on. It is really
ridiculous for the Clerk of the Weather to be acting on the old lines
when everybody down below can see they are behind the time. If he does
not improve we shall have to agitate on the subject Home Rule is the
order of the day. We need Home for the globe, and we cannot afford to
let the weather be included in the imperial functions. It is a domestic
affair. And as the Lord has considerably mismanaged it, he had better
hand it over to us, with full power to arrange it as we please."

MIRACLES.

What is a miracle? Some people would reply, an act of God. But this
definition is far too wide. In the theistic sense, it would include
everything that happens; and in the sense of our archaic bills of
lading, it would include fire and shipwreck.

Others would reply, a miracle is a wonder. But this definition would
include every new, or at least every surprising new fact. A black swan
would have been a wonder before Australia was discovered, but it would
have been no miracle. Railways, telegraphs, telephones, electric light,
and even gas light, would be wonders to savages, ye