lies, recite _ranns_, interpret dreams, give
the origin of old local customs, and tell a ghost story in a style that
would make your hair stand on end. She is a bit of a doctress, too--an
extensive herbalist, and is very skilful and lucky among children. In
short, she is a perfect Gentleman’s Magazine in her way--a regular
repertory of traditionary lore, a collector and distributor of social
antiquities, dealing in every thing that is timeworn or old, and handling
it with such a quiet and antique air, that one would imagine her life
to be a life not of years but of centuries, and that she had passed the
greater portion of it, long as it was, in “wandering by the shores of old
romance.”

Such a woman the reader will at once perceive is a formidable competitor
for popular confidence with the Midwife. Indeed there is but one
consideration alone upon which we would be inclined to admit that
the latter has any advantage over her--and it is, that she _is the
Midwife_; a word which is a tower of strength to her, not only against
all professional opponents, but against such analogous characters as
would intrude even upon any of her subordinate or collateral offices.
As matchmakers, it is extremely difficult to decide between her and the
Cosherer; so much so, indeed, that we are disposed to leave the claim for
priority undetermined. In this respect each pulls in the same harness;
and as they are so well matched, we will allow them to jog on side by
side, drawing the youngsters of the neighbouring villages slowly but
surely towards the land of matrimony.

In humble country life, as in high life, we find in nature the same
principles and motives of action. Let not the speculating mother of rank,
nor the husband-hunting dowager, imagine for a moment that the plans,
stratagems, lures, and trap-falls, with which they endeavour to secure
some wealthy fool for their daughters, are not known and practised--ay,
and with as much subtlety and circumvention too--by the very humblest of
their own sex. In these matters they have 