How various are the situations of the people coveredby the roofs beneath me， and how diversified are theevents at this moment befalling them！ The new-born，the aged， the dying， the strong in life and the recent deadare in the chambers of these many mansions. The full ofhope， the happy， the miserable and the desperate dwelltogether within the circle of my glance. In some of thehouses over which my eyes roam so coldly guilt is enteringinto hearts that are still tenanted by a debased andtrodden virtue； guilt is on the very edge of commission，and the impending deed might be averted； guilt is done，and the criminal wonders if it be irrevocable. There arebroad thoughts struggling in my mind， and， were I ableto give them distinctness， they would make their way ineloquence. Lo！ the raindrops are descending.
The clouds within a little time have gathered over all thesky， hanging heavily， as if about to drop in one unbrokenmass upon the earth. At intervals the lightning flashesfrom their brooding hearts， quivers， disappears， andthen comes the thunder， travelling slowly after its twinbornflame. A strong wind has sprung up， howls throughthe darkened streets， and raises the dust in dense bodiesto rebel against the approaching storm. The disbandedsoldiers fly， the funeral has already vanished like its dead，and all people hurry homeward—all that have a home—while a few lounge by the corners or trudge on desperatelyat their leisure. In a narrow lane which communicateswith the shady street I discern the rich old merchantputting himself to the top of his speed lest the rain shouldconvert his hair-powder to a paste. Unhappy gentleman！
By the slow vehemence and painful moderation wherewithhe journeys， it is but too evident that Podagra has left itsthrilling tenderness in his great toe. But yonder， at a farmore rapid pace， come three other of my acquaintance，the two pretty girls and the young man unseasonablyinterrupted in their walk. Their footsteps are supportedby the risen dust， the wind lends them its velocity， they flylike three sea-birds driven landward by the tempestuousbreeze. The ladies would not thus rival Atalanta if they butknew that any one were at leisure to observe them. Ah！ asthey hasten onward， laughing in the angry face of nature， asudden catastrophe has chanced. At the corner where thenarrow lane enters into the street they come plump againstthe old merchant， whose tortoise-motion has just broughthim to that point. He likes not the sweet encounter； thedarkness of the whole air gathers speedily upon his visage，and there is a pause on both sides. Finally he thrusts asidethe youth with little courtesy， seizes an arm of each of thetwo girls， and plods onward like a magician with a prizeof captive fairies. All this is easy to be understood. Howdisconsolate the poor lover stands， regardless of the rainthat threatens an exceeding damage to his well-fashionedhabiliments， till he catches a backward glance of mirthfrom a bright eye， and turns away with whatever comfortit conveys！
The old man and his daughters are safely housed，and now the storm lets loose its fury. In every dwellingI perceive the faces of the chambermaids as they shutdown the windows， excluding the impetuous shower andshrinking away from the quick fiery glare. The large dropsdescend with force upon the slated roofs and rise againin smoke. There is a rush and roar as of a river throughthe air， and muddy streams bubble majestically along thepavement， whirl their dusky foam into the kennel， anddisappear beneath iron grates. Thus did Arethusa sink. Ilove not my station here aloft in the midst of the tumultwhich I am powerless to direct or quell， with the bluelightning wrinkling on my brow and the thunder mutteringits first awful syllables in my ear. I will descend. Yet let megive another glance to the sea， where the foam breaks outin long white lines upon a broad expanse of blackness orboils up in far-distant points like snowy mountain-topsin the eddies of a flood； and let me look once more at thegreen plain and little hills of the country， over which thegiant of the storm is striding in robes of mist， and at thetown whose obscured and desolate streets might beseem acity of the dead； and， turning a single moment to the sky，now gloomy as an author’s prospects， I prepare to resumemy station on lower earth. But stay！ A little speck of azurehas widened in the western heavens； the sunbeams finda passage and go rejoicing through the tempest， and onyonder darkest cloud， born like hallowed hopes of theglory of another world and the trouble and tears of this，brightens forth the rainbow.
