ing round of her Majesty's judges of assize throws a halo of glory and responsibility not only upon the court-house but upon all the officials connected with it. These indeed have been known to become so filled with a stern sense of duty as to refuse admission to the bench to a judge's marshal, who, on proclaiming his title, was informed that, "marshal or general it made no difference; he couldn't go on the bench without his lordship's permission." It is perhaps hardly fair, however, to speak of assize towns under the general heading of country towns; for to most of these there comes no such frequent diversion with the revolving months as is brought by the advent of judges, barristers, and their following.
To some of those which are not dignified by the periodical visits of the gown, arms, in the shape of the militia, bring an annual excitement which can hardly be called wholesome, depending as it does in one class upon the amount of flirtation, in another upon the amount of beer got through. Where there is neither militia nor assizes, there is probably a fair, which for the two or three days that it lasts completely upsets and demoralizes the aspect of the place. All these things, however, only disturb and change the ordinary current of life in a country town, as a "bore" does that of a river which it passes over; and it is to the every-day aspect of affairs that one must look for the characteristics of the place and its inhabitants. As there is a considerable likeness in the buildings of most country towns, so is there in the kind of people that they contain. It might indeed be supposed that the outer resulted from the inner resemblance, and that, as the sameness of national characters produces national types of face, so does the sameness of the internal life collected in small towns mark itself in external objects. There will always be found a magnate or two, who are at the periods of their residence to the populace of a small town what royalty is to that of a city. Next to these come they who, upon the strength of being on visiting terms with them, assume the position of the resident aristocracy, and who, with a due regard for their station, are so particular in their choice of acquaintance that they incur an infinite amount of dislike and contempt from the people whom they wish to inspire with the same reverence which they themselves entertain for the magnates. It is remarkable that this class pride and jealousy seldom extend to the tradespeople of country towns, whose manners and education are frequently far better than those of their fellows in London. The explanation of this is probably to be found in the fact that the business of each has often been handed down to him through a long line of ancestors, and that their dealings are almost exclusively with ladies and gentlemen. Another class who are generally found at their best in towns remote from the stir of cities are the old maids, of whose simplicity and single-heartedness Mrs. Gaskell writes with such admirable skill in "Cranford." On account of their position, unless they possess either wealth or rank, the so-called society of the place where they dwell is not kind to them—a fact which they seldom resent, but, accepting it as the natural and proper order of things, concentrate their energies upon the poor people of their districts, to whom their kindly presence and attention is invaluable. That they should spend much of their spare time in gossip is only natural; the human mind has a taste for excitement, and when there is none at hand provided by circumstance, is driven to make it for itself. Thus it is not surprising that to these good creatures the arrangement of a neighbour's tea-party, the meaning of the curate's attentions to the rector's daugther, or why Miss So-and-So wore pink ribbons instead of her usual blue at the horticultural show, become questions of absorbing interest. The afternoon visits and tea-parties at which matters of this importance are discussed, when fresh visitors keep dropping in, each with a fresh bundle of news, remind one somehow, perhaps by the fatuous excitement of the persons concerned, of the constant and aimless journeys to and fro which may be observed going on in a rabbit-warren. For the most part such gossips as these are, if trivial, harmless enough, and usually no great mischief results from the employment of putting two and two together and making five of them, which is their chief resource. If, however, one of the members of the society happens to be of a malignant disposition, she may by assiduous collection of tittle-tattle manage to construct a formidable scandal, just as by heaping together enough odds and ends of wood one may in time make a faggot.
In former days the bookseller's shop was the centre from which all news, social and personal, radiated. Any one anxious to diffuse a piece of information had only to visit this shop at a certain time of the day in order to be sure of finding a small crowd, all of whom were as anxious as were the Athenians for some new thing,
