with his mother; whereof his mother was glad, but she knew not the cause why he tarried with her, nor what he had done.

How Homleglas creeped into a bee-hive, and how he was stolen in the night.

'Upon a time went Howleglas with his mother to the dedi. cation of the church. And there he drank so much, that he was drunken; and then went he in:o a garden thereby, where stood many bee hives; and there he sought where he might have a place to sleep in, and at the last he found an empty bee hive, wherein he put himself to sleep for that night. Then came there, in the dead of the night, two thieves for to steal away the hives; and they felt which of the hives was heav est, for they thought therein was most honey; so that at the last they felt the hive that Howleglas was in, and then said the thief to his fellow, Here is one that is very heavy; this will I have, take thou another, and let us go.' Then took they the bee hives on their necks and departed. Then awoke Howleglas, and heard all what they said. And it was so dark, that the one knew not the other. Then put Howleglas his hand out of the hive, and pulled the foremost by the ear; wherewith he was angry, and said to his fellow behind him, Why pullest thou me by the ear?' And then he answered, I pull thee by the ear! and I have as much as I can do to bear my hive. And within a while after he pulled the hidermost by the ear, that was right angry, and said, I be r so heavy that I sweat; and for all that, thou pullest me by the ear. Then answered the foremost, Thou liest; how should I pluck thee by the ear, and I can scantly find my way?' And thus went they chiding by the way; and as they were chiding, Howleglas put out his hand again, and pulled the foremost by the ear; whereof he was angry, and set down his hive, and took his fellow by the head, and thus they tumbled together by the ears in the street; and at the last, when the one had well beaten the other, they ran their way and left the hives lying; and then slept Howleglas in the hive till the morning.

“How Howleglas was made clerk of Buddenest. "And then, in the mean season, while Howleglas was parish-clerk, at Easter they should play the resurrection of Our Lord. And for because then the men were not learned, nor could not read, the priest took his leman and put her in the grave for an angel; and this seeing, Howleglas took to him two of the simplest persons that were in the town, that played the three Marys; and the parson played Christ, with a banner in his hand. Then said Howleglas to the simple persons, When the angel asketh you whom you seek, you may say The parson's leman with one eye.' Then it fortuned that the time was come that they must play; and the angel asked them whom they sought, and then said they as Howleglas had showed and learned them afore; and then answered they, We seek the priest's leman with one eye:' and then the priest might hear that he was mocked. And when the priest's leman heard that, she arose out of the grave, and would have smitten with her fist Howleglas upon the cheek; but she missed him, and smote one of the simple persons that played one of the three Marys; and he gave her another. And then took she him by the ear; and that seeing, his wife came running hastily to smite the priest's leman : and then the priest, seeing this, cast down his banner and went to help his woman, so that the one gave the other sore strokes, and made great noise in the church. And then Howleglas, seeing them lying together by the ears in the body of the church, went his way out of the village, and c me no more there.

"How that Howleglas would flee from the Town-house of Meyborough.

"After that came Howleglas to Meyborough, where he did many marvellous things, that his name was there well known. Then bade the principal of the town, that he should do something that was never seen before. Then said he, that he would go to the highest of the Council-house, and fly from it; and anon that was known through all the town, that Holeglas would fly from the top of the Council-house, insomuch that all the town was there assembled and gathered in the market-place to see him. Upon the top of the house stood Howleglas, with his hands wavering, as though he would have flown; and then the people looked when he should have flown whereat he laughed and said to the people, 'I thought there had been no more fools but myself, but I see well that there is a whole townful; for had ye all together said that ye would have flown, yet I would not have believed you and now ye believe one for that he saith that he will fly, which thing is impossible, for I have no wings, and no man can fly without wings And then went he his way from the top of the Council-house, and left the folk there standing. And then departed the folk from thence, some blaming him, and some laughing, saying, He is a shrewd fool, for he telleth us the truth.'"

THE SCHOOLMASTER AND THE STRIPLING;

OR, THE MARCH OF INTELLECT.

The march of infant mind is now immense→→
This fact a little tale shall render clear.

A six-year stripling, tired of "mood and tense,"
Strayed forth from school towards a village near.
His master sees, and seeing him, thus hails:

"Oh, oh! where is't you're going, little Sir?"
"Going! I'm going to buy a ha'p'orth o' nails-"
"And what d'ye want a ha'p'orth o' nails for ?"
"A ha'penny," the clever child replied:

The schoolmaster looked "all abroad," and sighed.

SENTENTIOUS SENTENCES.

The happiness of mankind is the end of virtue, and truth is the means.-Coleridge.

To emancipate itself from the tyranny of association is the most arduous effort of the mind, particularly in religious and political disquisitions.—Ib.

We should be cautious how we indulge the feelings even of virtuous indignation. Indignation is the handsome brother of anger and hatred.-16.

It is not enough that we have swallowed truths: we must feed on them, as insects on a leaf, till the whole heart be coloured by their qualities, and shew its food in every the minutest fibre.-Ib.

To hope too boldly of human nature, is a fault which all good men have an interest in forgiving.—Ib.

121

THE AWKWARD EFFECTS OF A LIKENESS; OR, THE COUNTRY SERVANT'S MISTAKE.

"They imitate humanity."-Shakspeare.

"Giles, take these apples to Lord Leer, And make my compliments-d'ye hear?"

"Yees, Zur," quoth Giles, a new-caught bumpkin,
Whose shoulders round were to a hump kin;
Whose head was hard, but judgment tender;
Legs thick, but understanding slender.
Giles put the basket on his back,
And went, a dull but willing hack,
Plodding and nodding on his road,
Until he reach'd my Lord's abode,
(My Lord, the haughtiest of men,
And ugliest, both since and then,)
Where he stood still, a minute's lease,
Wiping his piping frontispiece,
And staring, with a half surprise,
As two small figures met his eyes,
Standing in state before the door,
And richly dress'd, with lace all o'er!
Great monkeys they-but little men
They rather seem'd to Giles's ken.
Powder enough bedeck'd their hair,
Though they no powder-monkeys were;
And 'twas, in short, his Lordship's whim
To keep them thus-for, in such trim,
Their habits much diverted him.

Well, to proceed:-they bow'd, he bow'd,
And thought the gentlemen at least not proud:
They grinn'd, he grinn'd, and stood agape,
Peer'd at by each felonious ape,
Whom, long to larceny inured,
The apples strongly had allured.
When within reach the fruit they had,
(Both wicked rogues, and so two bad,)
Their paws made no pause in the act

Till three-fourths of the load they sack'd.
The countryman stood still, nor check'd
Their tricks, through feelings of respect.
You'll own, no doubt, his wit impeach'd,
If thus, Sir, Giles was over-reach'd:-
Well, so it was; and then he enter'd,
And told his message. My Lord bent hard
His looks on Giles, and on the present;
Then said, "My friend is surely pleasant!
A compliment he sends, 'tis true,

Of words, but not of apples too;

Or, if the basket did hold more of 'em, Some thief has on the road made store of 'em." "My Loard!" quoth Giles, "if I maun own it, 'Tis the young gentlemen ha' done it.""What gentlemen? What means the boor?". "Why, them as stood yon at the door!""What! those two monkeys at their fun, Sir?""Yees, the young gentlemen, your sons, Sir!"

BRITISH REVIEW.

D.

Living Poets and Poetesses; a Biographical and Critical Poem. By Nicholas Michell Secoud Edition. W. Kidd.

That a second edition should attend the impression of a work assuming such a theme as this, is no marvel. The very names of the parties mentioned, each of course involving its connections, might be expected to ensure this consequence. A reprint is therefore by no means, in such instances as the present, the best evidence of true merit; and this remark we find confirmed by our examination of Mr. Michell's poem. To fail in so difficult and elaborate a task as that of estimating the respective claims of all our breathing climbers of Parnassus, is, perhaps, no great re. proach-but, such as it is, we conceive Mr. Mitchell to have incurred it. None but a writer of tried power, and, we

:

might add, of acknowledged authority, should venture on ground so perilous as this. In the attempt we are here noticing, there appears no lack of zeal; but the equally essential guides of knowledge and discretion, are not discoverable. The critic does not withhold the application of the lash, but he unluckily too often administers it to the wrong victims, and not to the offending members even of them and where he undertakes laudation, he is sometimes equally unhappy. Thus, he speaks of Miss Landon in a transcendental strain of rapture, whilst Wordsworth is termed "the Prince of Dulness," and otherwise derided in terms neither measured nor refined, and Coleridge is assailed with a repetition of all those accusative common-places with which we have long had the misfortune to be familiar—and yet again! Mr. Bulwer, Mr. Ward, and Mrs. Gore, are, with the most facile flippancy, classed as "vain empirics." Mr. Haynes Bayly, who, we will not pretend to deny, may be rather a feeble poet, but who has generally been allowed the quality of smoothness in his lines, is spoken of as one who "hath of late so grated with his song"-and Sir Walter Scott is, by a very odd sort of appreciation, thus placed in analogy with Rousseau :—

"Boccace, Le Sage, Cervantes, and Rousseau,

Each breathes in turn, or all combine in Scott."

As a critic in verse, too, Mr. Michell should have been cautious not to leave his own lines unguarded. We subjoin a few grievously uncouth specimens :—

Amidst all the misapprehension and perversion to which we have alluded, it is with pleasure that we turned to a spirited, and, we think, fair estimate of the Ettrick Shepherd.

Montgomery (Robert) is not spared the application of those rhymes which are in such luckless accordance with his name. In the following stanza he figures not ineffectively

"The trumpet sounds! what wondrous feat to-day? Young Phaton drives the chariot of the sun; Fly the lashed steeds, fire tracks his radiant way, But soon he guides amiss, and is undone; The Gods deride, puffmongers quake belowPresumptuous youth! he falls in Laughter's Po!" Hood is described as "a giant warring on a jar," a species of antagonism which defies our comprehension. We leave it as a riddle for Mr. Hood's own solution.

Mrs. Hemans engages justly the author's best strain of panegyric. The subjoined description of her progress in poesy is itself poetical.

"Far from Distraction's vortex, Folly's eye,

Her friends were woody vale and cloud-wrapt height
Her music was the lonely eagle's cry,

And her subliming page the host of night;

Her thoughts, like streams, in freedom poured along,
Her heart all feeling, and her soul all song."

Mr. Jerdan, according to our critic, is in a situation of extreme personal jeopardy. "Latet anguis in herba!" He is exposed to malignant duplicity, and smooth treachery, as thus:

"Some long to lay this Scotchman 'neath their battery; But while they'd throttle, slaver him with flattery !" On the whole, Mr. Michell appears to have altogether mistaken his forte. He is not a qualified censor, as his flippant and random decisions too plainly shew; yet, as a poetical writer, he has, in descriptive composition, no mean claim to merit. In proof of this we have selected the following two passages. The second is introductory of Thomas Moore :--

"Morn springs from distant ocean: calm and bright,
Winds, like a glittering snake, the lovely Tweed;
Rock, dewy forest, catch the rosy light;"
The early bee is humming o'er the mead;
O'er ivied cots the smoke is trailing fair,
And the lark sings, and flowers scent all the air.
"The shepherd resting on his crook; the line
Of Cheviot mountains, distant, dim, and blue;
The waters murmuring, as they flow and shine;
Towers, spires, the summer foliage glancing through,
Enchant the gazer, till he dreams he be

In Tempe's vale, or Pan's own Arcady."

"The day is sultry; rich festoons of flowers
O'erdroop the porch; the shining fishes spring
From glassy streams; no bird disturbs the bowers;
And hums the bee on faint and drowsy wing;
Cool is yon dim alcove, adorned with vines;
There, fanned by perfumed airs, our bard reclines."

Stanley Buxton; or, the Schoolfellows. By the Author of "The Annals of the Parish," &c. 3 Vols. Colburn and Bentley.

Our time not sufficing this week to give an adequate review of this curious work, we will merely lay before our readers a few detached sketches from it, with the promise of recurring to it in detail in our next number. Mr. Galt is one of those ingenious writers who deal so much in the minutewho make up the sum of their attractions by such a world of little particularities, that the task of fair estimation is only to be fulfilled by a more than usually attentive reading.

Our first extract delineates briefly a country practitioner, and the scene of his residence.

"Doctor Sorn, though ostentatiously a physician, comprehended in his establishment a surgery and a laboratory-for he was surgeon, chemist, and apothecary, like other Scottish graduates in country practice, and had, besides, an old respectable man for his footman, an impudent boy who carried round his drugs and medicines to the patients, and in his office well deserved the epithet of Cholera Morbus. Before this Ganymede of malady the doctor had a lad of colour, the son of a Mulatto woman, his cook, and who, in consequence of his complexion, was distinguished among the schoolboys by the name of Yellow Fever; his mother was no less celebrated as Black Draught.

"The doctor was himself a widower, but his domestic admi. nistration was under the superintendence of Mrs. Unison, a relation of his deceased wife, a corpulent, good-natured, elderly gentlewoman, the widow of a curate, who left her, of course, pennyless. All about his house was remarkably neat ; the green in front was like velvet, and the gravel-walk round it was as smooth as a trimming of riband. It presented exactly that combination of comfort and gentility appropriate to his circumstances, and the respectability of his character; for, with very few professional peculiarities, Doctor Sorn was a sensible, well-informed man, and possessed a gentleness of disposition that did quite as much for his success as his skill, and yet his skill was above mediocrity. His greatest weakness, as his neighbours said, was in the excessive indulgence he allowed to his daughter, whom. having early lost her mother, he never ceased to regard with pity for her helplessness, as well as with the fullest parental love."-vol. iii., pp. 112, 113.

We next turn to a little scene of love and jealousy, executed more in the fashionable style than is customary with Mr. Galt. The lovers are Mr. Franks and Miss Sorn, and the intervening party a lady gifted with the flowery nam of Miss Jacintha Rosedale :

"Dinner passed very agreeably; Franks had a number of soft nothings to whisper in his fair one's ear, which convinced her that her father was not altogether; a tyrant; but although there were not quite so many smiles and tacit felicitations in his manner, as her fond heart had anticipated, still there was an easy urbanity about the old gentleman, which could not be discouraging to her lover but it had the effect of, in some degree, repressing the exuberance of his animal spirits. Mrs. Unison was, as usual, blithe and hospitable, and did not much intrude her household words among the sentimentals of the mutually interested pair; for she had that morning superintended the dissection of a pig and was giving the doctor a highly satisfactory account of the post-mortem examination.

"The dessert had scarcely been placed on the table, when Miss Jacintha was announced, and came in a rapture of gladness and sensibility to welcome the return of her dearest Julia. She was dressed a little more than usual, and wreathed and garlanded with gum-flowers, and all her graces she had not, however, been well seated, when our heroine discovered her snatching sly and hidden peeps and glances at Mr. Franks, of the most ominous kind. As for Franks himself, he soon saw the tinderness, as well as tenderness, of her character; and, as Miss Sorn justly thought, seemed disposed to give her too much countenance. Accordingly, she immediately, after the first glass of wine, conceived it prudent to move, with her combustible friend, into the drawing-room, much to the surprise both of her father and her swain, who anticipated no such early movement.

"Hardly were the ladies seated in the drawing-room, when Miss Sorn told Jacintha, in the presence of Mrs. Unison, as if to confirm what she had herself said, how much she was surprised at what that lady had been telling her concerning both Mr. Buxton and Laird Ralston.

"You cannot, my dear Julia,' replied Miss Rosedale, 'be more surprised than I am; for instead of hearing of your marriage with the Scottish knight of the fiery locks, to find you here with another young man! When I heard of your arrival, and that such a one was with you, I concluded that it could be no other than the Amaryllis of Gowans.'

Ah, Jacintha! The course of true love never did run

smooth."

"But,' replied Jacintha, he may have, as the divine Shakspeare saith, that within which passeth show; although I must observe that his complexion lacks in the pale cast of thought; and hath in it more of townly languor, than the mild hue of sensibility.'

"I think so too,' said Mrs. Unison; 'he's more rakish than poetical.'

"He's the most playful creature imaginable,' replied our heroine.

"But wherefore is he here?' inquired Miss Rosedale. "Miss Sorn, who was really, by this time, sincerely interested with Franks, and was, in consequence, a little more inclined to conceal her flame than when, in the other case, she selected her confidant, replied adroitly, That she believed he had business with her father.'

And none with her father's daughter?' replied Miss Rosedale, eagerly, and looking archly! I am really surprised you could travel so far with such a Lothario, and not fall in love.' "I think, Jacintha, you are insinuating a little too much,' was the cool reply.

666

Surely you don't mean to say,' cried Mrs. Unison,' that he did not offer you a single endearment in the whole journey?'

"Ladies,' exclaimed Miss Julia, 'these are very improper remarks.'

Fortunately at this moment the doctor and Mr. Franks, having discussed a proper medical modicum of wine, inter

rupted the conversation, which was evidently verging to a tender point; and, while tea and coffee were ordered, Miss Julia requested her accomplished friend to sit down at the piano,she would have done so herself, but she recollected the stolen glances of the dining-room, and was afraid they might be renewed behind her back.

Miss Rosedale obeyed the request with alacrity, for she was well aware of her own superioity at the instrument, and astonished Franks, as he said, to a dangerous degree, with the elegance and pathos of her execution.

The unfortunate Miss Sorn was in torment; and, unable to endure the performance of so powerful a spell, moved backwards to the instrument, and slily putting her hand into it behind, snapped a string, which instantly put an end to the enchantment; but judge of her consternation, when Miss Jacintha said with surpassing coolness

"Tis not of much consequence; I have brought my guitar with me, which will do very well for the night.'

"Now it was not possible that she could have brought any thing on such a night so odious to Miss Sorn, for she herself could do nothing on the guitar, and Jacintha was esteemed, in Errington, a complete mistress of the instrument, and, in the opinion of the neighbourhood, accompanied it with a voice of unparalled sweetness, and withal could indulge, as she sang and played, in the most eloquent and seducing glances.

"We shall, however,' said Miss Julia, not have it in till after tea; and as she saw Franks, in looking over the music with Miss Rosedale, whispering softly of several fashionable pieces, she rang the bell, and impatiently requested the servant to make haste with the tea-things. But scarcely had old Reuben brought them in, when she desired him to set out the card-table and lay the cards, 'for,' said she,

"We are a nice whist-party. Mrs. Unison never plays, and papa so doats on a game, that you can't, Mr. Franks, oblige him more than by taking a hand."

"But the old gentleman, who was more pleased with Jacintha's music on the guitar, replied that he was not in a humour for cards that evening, and would much rather hear her Spanish song. Accordingly, to the infinite chagrin of our fair heroine, the machination of the cards did not succeed; but Jacintha, as soon as the tea-things were removed, placed herself on the music-stool in the most captivating attitude, and, slinging the guitar over her shoulders, after some melodious preluding, turned her eyes, like a beseeching Amorosa, on Franks, and sang Vengo a solicitar,'

"Franks, who knew the air, answered, in the second part, with taste and feeling, and perhaps a little more action than his audience were accustomed to. Mrs. Unison declared she had never heard any thing to compare to it; it was, she said, 'love itself,'-nobody who had not felt the passion could be so natural.'

"It is truly exquisite,' said the doctor, and a thousand times more delightful than all the cards in the world.

"But Miss Julia, affecting to be more eloquent in the expression of her enjoyment of the charity of returning good for evil, in attempting an exstatic interjection, gave an hysterical scream, and, falling back on the sofa, drummed with her heels till she effectually banished all harmony from the room, and Cholera Morbus, coming to see what was the matter, ran against Miss Jacintha, and falling, broke to pieces her guitar."-Vol. iii., pp. 121–127.

For our lady readers, we subjoin the narrative of a young lady's night of romantic excitation under ghostly impres sions :

"Miss Jacintha placed her light on the hearth, in a basin, as directed; and, with all possible haste, undressed, leaped into bed, and covered herself up, over head and ears.

"The night, for the season, was uncommonly mild; and the poor young lady soon found herself obliged, by the heat, to make a breathing-place, from which she occasionally peeped forth, though her mind was haunted with a ghost in white satin. But so long as footsteps were heard, she was comparatively without fear; especially as the sounds which had frightened the maids were behind the wainscot, and still remained quiet. When, however, the house became hushed, the mice began to move, and for some time to rush with such appalling dissonance, that her courage had nearly deserted her. Had Miss Sibby not described it, she had certainly, according to

her own account, perished with fear; but in the end her fortiude returned, and she ventured to listen.

"In the mean time it so happened, that a wife, as the bachelors say, having fallen from the wick of the candle, burned the body with great precipitation, and caused it to fall over into the basin, by which it was almost extinguished; a faint, fitful flame only flicked above the water, and threw strange shadows from every object in the room, and coyne and vantage of the cornices. At that moment the bandits behind the wainscot paused in their riots; and Miss Jacintha, now assured of what they were, took heart, and lifted the bed-clothes from her head; but the room was so changed and lurid, by the candle emitting only a weak and fluctuating light, that she instantly again shut her eyes and hid her head: conscious, however, that something had happened, she soon summoned fresh resolution, and recalling Miss Sibby's anxiety about the candle, ventured to look forth; but the light was so nearly extinct, that it scarcely made the darkness visible, revealing, to her horror, in a corner of the room, a ghastly apparition, sitting, like a corpse, in its winding-sheet. Its arms were loose; and one of its hands appeared most mysteriously elevated.

"To give utterance to scream or speech at such a spectacle was impossible; Miss Jacintha lay with a beating heart and trembling limbs, her eyes fascinated with the sight, when suddenly a transient flash in the socket, at this fearful juncture, blazed up, and showed her that the phantom was only formed by the outline of her dress, as she had left it on the chair.

"This discovery did much to quiet her terrors; she was now quite convinced that she had been indulging her poetical imagination, and that she might go to sleep in perfect safety. Accordingly, in a tolerable state of comfort, she now made herself snug for the night; and had even the hardihood to invite sleep with her face uncovered. She, however, had been so excited, that some considerable time elapsed before the balmy restorer settled on her eyelids; but at last it did, and for some time she enjoyed

"A death-like silence, and a dread repose.'

In this state she might have continued till the morning, had she not been startled by a strange, rushing noise, the sound of which roused her into a sitting posture; she looked out-all in the room was dark and silent; but she observed an appearance at the uncurtained window-a stranger, with a helmet of towering plumes, like that of Otranto, every now and then looking in and bowing. It was, however, but a tree. At the same time she heard a bustle in the room, and presently the flapping sound of wings, and a cold, unaccountable, fanning air. This, in itself, was an appalling phenomenon; but, encouraged by having discovered the origin of her phantasma in the early part of the night, she bravely withstood this new alarm: she was, however, convinced that something extraordinary was in the room :-a cat, a dog, or rat, it could not be; for as it moved round the bed, the footsteps, short and supernatural, fell hard, almost with the clank of iron, or of charnel-bones, on that part of the floor which was not carpeted. "A thrill of awe seized her-whatever it was that moved, she knew, by these footsteps dread,' could be neither man nor quadruped, but her courage still did not entirely desert her. She thought at one time that she could discern by the starlight from the window a moving form-a shapeless horror in the obscurity; and with more than the heroism of her sex, she put forth her hand towards it. But instantly she was struck, as with a dreadful dagger, and, in consequence, fainted; and when she came again to her senses, the morning was changing the skies into grey, and she was lying on her back. She had scarcely, however, regained possession of her wits, when she heard, from another part of the chamber, the short skeleton steps that had so appalled her before, and on looking in that direction, she beheld a most portentous figure, with dark outstretched wings and saucer eyes, coming towards her.

"Instantly she sprang up, but in her fright overturned the basin of cold water on her feet. In the same moment she uttered a shriek—

'Was ne'er prophetic sound so full of woe.'

It thrilled throughout the house like an alarum; flints were then heard striking, doors flapping, and presently the whole establishment, guests and inmates, came with candles in their hands to see with what new Gorgon they were to sear their sight.

On entering the room, Miss Jacintha was standing in her smock, and pale as it, upon the dressing table. How she got there, beggared conjecture, but-her eyes were fixed, and, raising her hand, she pointed to the opposite corner, crying in a hoarse voice of consternation, "Look there! look there!'

beheld an

"All the intruders immediately turning their eyes, enormous imp, owl, or harpy, roosting on the back of a chair. Mrs. Franks at the sight uttered a scream and fled, the housemaids followed, Miss Sibby stood a statue, Mr. Franks was scarcely less amazed, and his English servant looked with mouth and nostrils as well as eyes, pale and ghastly; but the laird, without any commotion, said to his groom Dick, who was unable to contain his laughter,

"How the devil came the owl here? when did he return to his nest in the lumhead? As I live, the old Justice Clerk has come down the vent.'

"The spell was broken; Miss Jacintha leaped like a roe from the table to the ground, thence into bed, and was instantly beneath the clothes. Dick, the unmannerly groom, roared with laughter, his master did the same. Miss Sibby herself, recovering her qresence of mind, joined chorus; and the fugitives, returning to the spot, increased and magnified the cataract.

On this occasion, the good housewifery of Miss Sibby signalized itself in a true Scottish manner; she ordered the kitchen fire to be stirred up anew, and a bottle of port to be mulled with spices to exorcise the spirits.

"But MissJacintha's terrors were not ended, for fin springing from the dressing-table to the bed, she had somehow carried with her a pair of scissors, sticking to her chemise, and when Miss Sibby and one of the maids brought the wine to console her, she happened to turn her naked leg upon them, and instantly bounded up, crying a snake was in the bed—dashing in her consternation the light and the jug of wine to the ground, and again rousing the household with her desperation."

Sir Ralph Esher; or, Adventures of a Gentleman of the Court of Charles II. 3 Vols 8vo. London: 1832. Colburn and Bentley.

We take shame to ourselves that we should have had a seven weeks' existence in print, and yet have omitted to do he act of justice to the pleasant writer of these pleasant volumes-which we now purpose. It is, of course, known by this time from the Land's End to John-o'-Groat's, that the writer of them is Mr. Leigh Hunt-we say of course; for if it had not been blazoned forth by periodicals of all sizes, prices, and calibres, the mingled faults and fine fancies which are to be found in these pages would at once distinguish them as the production of that indefatigable author.

But we have not headed this article with the title of Mr. Leigh Hunt's volumes, with the view of criticising them; but, after the fashion of our Quarterly brethren, as a peg on which to hang a few remarks of our own,-more particularly to remind our reader of the many pleasant hours' reading which the author's amusing and prolific pen has afforded them. We do this now, the more earnestly, that we have so long neglected to do so, and we would fain impress upon them all, his laborious exertions have failed in procuring him that fair reward for his labours, which every man has a right to expect towards the close of his life. To make amends, as far as possible, for this ill treatment on the part of Dame Fortune, the friends of Mr. Leigh Hunt have issued proposals for the publication, by subscription, of a selection of his poems; and we beg to remind all readers of taste and means, that they cannot better evince their love of literature, and respect for this (with all his faults,) sincere writer, than by entering. their names as subscribers for the projected volume. They cannot fail of being doubly gratified-first, by the work itself, and next, by the consciousness of having performed a kindly-meant action.