would only bring steadily their will to bear on them, that I will fain hope these few suggestions may not be thrown out in vain. As society is now constituted, it is certain that hotels will be more and more required; nor can I see any reason why they should not be more used as places of residence, if they would only adapt themselves with greater pliability to the requirements of social life, and give to their rooms more grace of arrangement and more of the aspect and feeling of home. This would be easily done, and would be of small cost, in comparison with the great attraction, and consequently profit, which it would most certainly

create.

To small families, to childless people, to men and women who do not want the service of an establishment, to all those who require to pass the London season amongst their world, but who are not rich enough to take a mansion in Belgravia, or are not inclined for the burden of a household, the system of hotels would offer immeasurable advantages; and chief amongst these would rank the certainty of their rate of expenditure, a certainty that never can be arrived at in a private house.

The greatest difficulty that there is to contend with, in endeavouring to render hotels agreeable for residence of long duration, is the strong preference of hotel boards and directors for the va et vient class of supporters. People who are here to-day and gone

to-morrow are not fastidious; the traveller who alights for a week is not particular as to service and equipment; and the bird on the wing, who may never return, does not take the trouble to

leaf that covers his momentary rest.

scold the chance

So the bird on

the wing is their favourite; and they do not take the trouble to conciliate the more elegant birds who would remain if the nest were to their taste. This preference of hotel managers is, no doubt, the greatest stumblingblock in the way of the changes I advocate; and it is a very heavy one. Yet I do not think it insuperable; and if one could but awaken the va et vient to a sense that though their sojourn may only last a day, the day may just as well be as pleasant a one as possible, this obstacle would be removed; and with it all objections to what is, even with its present shortcomings, a welcome and beneficial system. Let the public only take the matter cordially in hand, and let it only, whilst extending its payments generously with one hand, hold fast with the other to what are its due rights in return, and hotels will very quickly assimilate themselves to the just demands of society; since of them, yet more surely than of any institution, it must be said that they must live to please, and that they must please to live.

On Journeying Third Class.

ONE

NE of our most celebrated bishops some years ago met another dignitary, although not quite so dignified, at a great London terminus. I suppose you are going down to the palace?' said the archdeacon. The bishop said, 'Yes.' 'I am going down to your neighbourhood, and we had better travel together.' The bishop cheerfully assented. 'First class, I suppose, bishop?' said the archdeacon. The bishop shook his head. 'I shall not mind travelling second once in a way,' said the archdeacon. But,' said the bishop, I always travel third.'

Now, I am certainly not going to advise my friends to follow the episcopal example altogether. In these days, when the railways have so much difficulty in making both ends meet, there ought rather to be some sumptuary regulation to the effect that such people as bishops should at least purchase first-class tickets. But it would not be a bad self-denying ordinance, from time to time to purchase first-class tickets and to travel third class. I have tried the

plan myself, and can recommend it to others. It is one of the best ways of making oneself practically acquainted with the modes of thinking and speaking that prevail among those who will be our political masters. In a parliamentary train you meet people on terms of perfect equality; they have paid their fare, and are as good as you are, and are not supposed to be aware that social differences exist. You may find yourself among knots of servants, labourers, soldiers, sailors, policemen, artisans, travellers, etc., and with a little tact you may gain a real insight into opinions, prejudices, and popular ways of thinking. Unless I am greatly deceived, you will find that frankness and intelligence are pervading elements of a fresh, lively conversation. You may sometimes hear keen arguments and discussion on religious and political subjects. To travel third class is always a saving of the pocket, a potent reason with many; but by the exceedingly limited class of those who do so having paid a higher fare, I think that parliamentary travelling in the middle and north of England will be found to give the best return. You there find the greatest amount of character, self-assertion, and intellectual vigour. The patois is at times difficult to understand, and at times there is roughness of manners, not to mention inodorous odours and kindred disagreeables. Still, if you wish to find shrewd sense and unsophisticated

manners, to gather up the feelings and humours and tendencies of the working class-I will add, if you really wish to like and understand and sympathise with them-you ought, like the great bishop, to do a considerable part of your travelling by parliamentary train.

You will see also in a parliamentary train a great deal of the dramatic action of real life. You will see how tender, considerate, and helpful poor people will be to the sick and aged and to little children. Sometimes the whole exodus is before you of a large, poor family migrating from one end of the kingdom to the other. Now it is the poor curate or dissenting minister, the tutor or governess, and such kind of people, to whom saving is an object, but who have the evident stamp of being gentle folks, who are without much difficulty recognised. You may sometimes put together hints, or surmise circumstances, or glean fragments of information which might go far to make up the sketch of a life history. Sometimes we meet with false shame for cheap travel. Travelling third class once, I was assured with much earnestness by a lady's friend that the lady was travelling third class for the first time in her moral existence. Somehow I was not startled by the unwonted humility which this lofty being had displayed. Many persons travel third who ought properly to pay higher-persons, for instance, who