No. XI. 

 DISSOLVING VIEWS. 



IN these busy days of Land-navigation, when a man 

 can hardly travel twenty miles along the old fashioned 

 high road leading from anywhere to anywhere else, 

 without rumbling under the skew arch, or half dislo- 

 cating his mortal framework over the temporary 

 bridge, of a ' Railway in progress/ as Mr. Bradshaw, 

 with monthly mockery and pertinacity of promise, 

 calls it,, most people may have had opportunities of 

 noticing certain funnel-shaped pyramids of earth left 

 standing in the ' cuttings/ which, if not exactly like 

 their prototypes, 



" Flinging their shadows from on high, 

 For time to count his ages by," 



yet answer very satisfactorily the more modern object 

 of showing what deep wrinkles the face of mother 

 earth may receive in short chronologies, and what 



