We are depending a bit on punctuation to aid the thought and application. Not so much as having heard of these ruins beforehand, we were the more surprised; in plastic condition of mind the impression was made, and it is indelible. "Forget what we may, let what will of our thought become bedimmed,--let memories of St. Mary's remain and be good and fresh as now," said we then, and repeat ever. Our first visit to York Minster was made soon after our arrival. At 6 P. M. the doors are closed, and as it was near or quite that hour, we were content with the good and great privilege of examining the elegant grounds and magnificent exterior. The former are quite large and properly enclosed. The same carpet-like lawn-grass abounds, with a few grand avenues and paths over it, and trees of good age. All was cathedral-precinct-like, tranquil and sanctified; but even here sin and its consequences were present in material form, and the manifestation was quite what happens in Boston, where we have no venerable cathedral nor such grounds. Off a hundred or more feet from the building, reclining on the grass and asleep, was a man beastly drunk. Two policemen came and aroused him and led him away. As at home, boys and women were interested and followed. To the credit of the policemen they did their work well, and in a way befitting the place, they could not well use less force, and they needed to use no more. As we saw the old, old sight, we thought of the terse and comprehensive verdict of Boston's once famous coroner, Pratt, who had held an inquest on one found not only dead drunk, as this man was, but _drunk dead_; and the simple verdict was, "Rum did it." Many instances occur where we have to repeat the old verdict. It's a good safety-valve to our feelings, and having said a true, a comprehensive, an all-the-ground-covering thing, we "rest the case." Rum does it there and here and everywhere, the world over.