FEBRUARY. 59 



glittering with congregated stars, or irradiated with 

 the placid moon. There was a sense of vigour, of 

 elasticity, of freshness about you, which made it 

 welcome : but now, most commonly, by day or by 

 night, the sky is hidden in impenetrable vapour ; the 

 earth is sodden and splashy with wet ; and even the 

 very fireside does not escape the comfortless sense 

 of humidity. Every thing presents to the eye, accus- 

 tomed so long to the brightness of clear frosts, and 

 the pure whiteness of snow, a dingy and soiled 

 aspect. All things are dripping with wet : it hangs 

 upon the walls like a heavy dew ; it penetrates into 

 the drawers and wardrobes of your warmest cham- 

 bers ; and you are surprised at the unusual damp- 

 ness of your clothes, linen, books, and papers ; and, 

 in short, almost every thing you have occasion to 

 examine. Brick and stone floors are now dan- 

 gerous things for delicate and thinly-shod people to 

 stand upon. To this source, and, in fact, to the 

 damps of this month operating in various ways, 

 may be attributed not a few of the colds, coughs, 

 and consumptions so prevalent in England. Pave- 

 ments are frequently so much elevated by the ex- 

 pansion of the moisture beneath, as to obstruct the 

 opening and shutting of doors and gates : and your 

 gravel-walks resemble saturated sponges. Abroad, 

 the streets are flooded with muddy water, and 

 slippery with patches of half-thawed ice and snow, 

 which strike through your shoes in a moment. The 

 houses, and all objects whatever, have a dirty and 

 disconsolate aspect ; and clouds of dim and smoky 



