The History of England. By the Right Honourable bill! bours, in a mild and equitable government, of which the between incensed faction, and deprived intestine commo habitual influence had abated the ravages of a contest tions of a great part of their horrors. In England, says Philip des Comines, a soldier and a traveller, 'the evil of war falls on those only who make it.' Sir John Fortescue, aib English lawyer, long resident in France, contrasts the operation of absolute monarchy, in impoVerishing and depressing the periple of that kingdom, with that more free government which raised up the race of English yemen, qualified by their intelligence, and by their independent situation, as well as spirit, to take an important part in dispensing justice as jurors;—an accession tobpopular power, which spread more widely over ordinary dife, than perhaps any other and while it fostered the independence of the people, contributed, by a happy peculiarity, to interest their pride, in duly execu ting the daw, and taught them to place their personal importance in enforcing the observance of justice." 979 9 90029 IN adverting to the appearance of the second volume of Sir James's history, we consider ourselves as merely announcing its appearance to the reader-reporting progress as it were. We refrain from pronouncing judgment upon the work until we have it wholly before us. This, however, we may say, without infringing our resolution, that like every work of its distinguished author, it will be found to contain much that is excellent. The short passage which we extract from the present volume will show, that, with true philosophical spirit, he does not confine himself to telling the story of princes.and nobles, and retailing the scandal of courts. He looks into the structure of society, examines the thewes and sinews-ay, and the spirit of the nation. The passage to which we allude is also curious as a fragment of Par Some Word-catchers attacked the first volume of the liamentary history. We should not wonders to see it history with the utmost acharnement on account of quoted by Sir Charles Wetherell, at the meeting of Pave liament, as an unanswerable argument against the Reform godstructed b9 There must be owls and cats in this world sundry sentences, which they alleged were clumsily to by gab et ad dom od ng yaman to hunt down rats and mice, and such small deer," and "When the civil war was approaching, we first cledfly acknowledging the hecessity of their existence, we leave discern, from the private and confitential correspond them to pursue unmolested the duties of their important ence of the Pastons, a family of note in Norfolk, the frevocation. Joniveis a tiw nsbute 93 23 142374 quent interposition of the grandees in the elections of noigils isd: to do commoners, or rather their general influence over the yd bedste vibstinige ganlov 9d to a obtene choice. In the year 1455; we find a circular letter from The Mythology of A 175 bis Ancient Greece a "and"-1 Italy, intended the Duchess of Norfolk, to her husband's adherents in 201 chiefly for the use of Students at at the Universities, and that county, apprising them of the necessity that my the higher Classes in Schools. By Thomas Keightley, lord should have at this time in the Parliament such per Author of the of the Fairy Mythology." With twelve sons as belong unto him, and be of his tentat servants, babaye ein gro 01 Plates, on Steel by W. H. Brooke. 8vo. Pp. and therefore entreating them to apply their voice unto 491. London. Whittaker, Treacher, and and Co. 1831. John Howard and Roger Chamberlayne to be knights asing deam sites Food 24 of the shire. b On this passage, it is only necessary to Is We have heren learned and judicious work, and one observe, that mental de that period was word which which has long been a desideratum in this country. Enghad scarcely any portion of Its modern sense, and might land boasts of her classical scholars; and if, by the designabe applied with propriety to any gentleman red withli tion, we are to understand men who have mastered the the walls of the dukey castle By another shore this intricacies and niceties of the two languages to which patch from Lord Oxford; my the dutdown of the same the epithet is applied par 1 par excellence, and have drunk deep year, it appears that Sir William Chamberlyne and of the generous spirit and elegant taste which breathe Henry Grey were to be supported byahe two dukes as throughout the a authors who have given them immortality, candidates for the county of Norfolk. The 1742 448, the the boast is not unjustifiable. It is the more to be wonDukes of Norfolk and Suffolk, after a conference on the dered at, that a country where these languages are more subject, agreed to have SheRichard Harboard nas esteemed an indispensable acquisition on the part of every Robert Wingefield to represent the county hd to recoms well-educated iman than in any other should, in what mend Sir John Paston to be elected for The borough of concerns a sedulous investigation of those antiquities Maldon, and obtained from the burgesses of Yirmduth which elucidate them and in the direction of this repromise to support their candidates for that borough, who search by a philosophical spirit, lie behind every nation were Dr Alleyne and John Russe79b ban 191987 d aiH in Europe. TDM My badeild ybasse 10 "In the next instance, after the Duke of Norfolk found it impracticable to return his Bonth-law Mr Howard, for the county, an intimation is thrown dat, of means by which an indefinite extension of fluence to the elections of other towns, and in the revivals of disused franchises, might be obtained five miss to be burgess of Maldon, and my Lord Chamberlayne will, ye may be in another place: there be a dozen towns in England that choose no burgess, which ought to do it ye mays set in for one of those towns, and ye be friended 209876 "A curious illustration of the Habitual exercise of the influence of the crown, as well as of the inability, elections, may be seen in familiar letter contained in the same collection. Sir Robert Confero dined with me this day, and showed me letter that came from the king to him, desiring him that he should await upon hiss well-beloved brother, the Duke of Suffolk, at Norwich, on Monday next coming, for to be at the selection of knights of the shire; and he told me that every gentle man in Norfolk and Suffolk, that are of any reputation, hath writing from the king in likewise as he had.' "It was in this period of civil war, that two writers of sagacity describe England as superior to her neigh 2'73 Mr Keighley tells us, in his titlepage, that his work is intended chiefly for the use of advanced schoolboys and young collegians. Tofthenuit will be an invaluable acquisition. It will enable them to start on their career of classical investigation untrammelled by those crude and contradictory Yaccounts which have been the sole guides of their predecessors. But we are much mistaken if the benefits of the work step bere It serve to unravel the perplexed thoughts of many literati of older and higher standing. H The systems of classical mythology hitherto published in our language are puerile in the extreme. The accounts of various delties have been culled, without the aid of sound eriticism, indifferently from all Greek and Roman authorsaitalike from those who, like Homer, gave a plain credulous description of them, and from the latter Platonists, who distorted their histories into all sorts of fantastic and mystical allegories. The authorities have been regarded as of equal authority, and the most dissonant and contradictory opinions have been made to stand side by side in the same narrative. On the continent, however, and particularly in Germany, a better spirit has sprung up of late years. The mythology of lishing in Constable's Miscellany. We sincerely trust that Captain Brown will meet with that liberal accept- LIVING IN VAIN. each author has been first studied apart, then in connexion with that of his contemporaries, and finally, as it bears upon that of his immediate predecessors or successors. The investigations of the artist-those of Winkelman for example; of the antiquaryCount Caylus and his followers; of the historian-Niebulir, have all been treferemulo MISCELLANEOUS LITERATURE. red to for additional light. And thus, by dint of patient 1979 en esvisero 19bienos 9W Vojen and sagacious enquiry, al trust worthy history of the binth -oq goitr0q97-196697 98 of 9999 eli giris and growth of " the intelligible forms ofbold religion" tnsmybuj quinoTHE BYSTANDER 9T9W J7 has been composed id 109079703 9971 970m 38dt diweidTau 910ted yllodwN69141.9 litnu now 9 Mr Keightley professes himself a disciple of the sound -uloes 700 gignitai juodi 7 st rational school of Germancimythological students in Todtus bedeingaifeibe To To Vil da opposition to a crazy sect, who find unutterable means We feel little sympathy with those who die in infancy, ings in the breeches of Jupiter, and profquad philosophy and little with those who die fall vofl years and honour, in the stomacher of JunosHe has furnished us with an endlfter having achieved some mighty conquest in literaable digest of the discoveries of Voss and Lobecker9 He ture, nqreoworldlyobasini Osinishsect sorrow prefaces his work with an introductory chapter on pay is for gddius.ipped in berbud-forgib who, having just thology in general-traces its touts bvaried sources shows that has capable of doing much drops off before assigning to the products of seisch its characteristicofea boscan fulfil hisoipromise. to Our sortobrs however, is tures. He then traces the developement of mythology taufe when contrasted with the agony of him who is thus from the primitive times, when it is an article of implicit untimely called away. The fate of Tantalus was bliss belief, till the advanced periods of rational, refinement, compared to his before thom life, with all its ecstatic when it becomes spiritualized and allegorized, He then emotions andɛinspiring labours,dare displayed only that proceeds to treat in detail, first of the gods of Greece he may guess how much he is deprived of by a premature then of those of Italy and brings before us in succession death the blossom way wither on the stalk, and leave each object of the idolatrous, worship of these two coun- 8 fruit behind it is unconscious; but to relinquish tries. He presents the student with a distinct local and love, friendship honour not enjoyed but anticipatedchronological chart of their religion. is a fearful dogmi 299bnary edt to noitizoqretni Brooke, from ge0992 he to 921 911 20 The illustrations of the volume, spiritedly etched by es, we regard as das by no means the least important feature the work. brings the deities of the old world before the eve of youth in all their grandeur and beauty they give him a finer feeling of classical fiction-they help at once to fo9103 914 to form his eye and taste for the beauties of art. 191989 791eidWobgo I 10 We regard Mr Keightley's book as the most important addition that has been made to the unkiliaries of classical education in our time muta19bish 899d gnol end did redb 18; 27alodoz frizes! 19 octeod bust 9 od nem bustersbou of 918 sw noit Northern and Central Africa, bypages af 191 fe Few of those who were the companions of my boyhood now remain, and of the few it is more than probable that not ane remembers, the name of Wentworth, He was left an orphan at an age too young to know his loss. The gentleman to whore care he was confided a busy Politician was too much engrossed by his own, ambitious projects to devote much attention to a sickly, boy, a relation so distant as scarcely to have a claim, upon his love, in the eyes of the world Let me do this man of the world justice he saw his charge intrusted to the care of baspreceptor who, he knew would care for his. physical comforts, and, bis education he was exemplary in the management of his ward's fortune, but he saw him rarely, and when he did, lavished upon him none of those Caressen which conciliate the confidence and open the hearts of the youngyd Wentworth's schoolmaster was in T Travels and Discoveries in 1822, 23, 21. By Major Denham, Captain and 21. Clapperton, and Dr Short Account Clapperton's and w 90 fun like mannera conscientious man, but not gifted with the Lander's der's Second Journey, in 26, and 27. In four vols. 1600. London. John Murray. 1831. So noitieiupos stdsen9qeibni as bemsstes THE narrative of the discoveries effected by out latest and most enterprising explorer of Africap is now presenos ed to the public at a moderate price, in ambelegant and portable form. These volumes are unitorm with the small editions already published by Mr Murray of Party's and Franklin's Voyages, addiiform with them a proud record of what Britishs daring and perseverances have effected in the regions bifextremet helt and eldloo gnuo R fuer feelings of humanity.The boy was sedulously instructed but his young heart was fated to encounter noue which beat sympathizingly with his own.W to We commenced at college the same yearol Although amiable and pure in the, in most recesses of the mind, there was something about him the reverse of conciliatory. His character had developed itself in a moral solitude. His temper, was naturally of that kind, which requires to rest upon the affections of others; but be had known only those in my hose presence, an account of their superior 116 116 01 Medt sldens lliw ti moitieiupage 95 influence over his destiny, he felt awed, and his 120 battemmin notitesvai levizaslo to inclination to ingratiate himself, and seek to nestle in Illustrations of American Ornithology ilding Repres tag the hearts of those with whom he was brought in con4000 916 J forever tasty was checked by an acquirel timidity. He sought to sentations of the principal Insects, Forest-trees, Fruits of America, Drawn, Etched, and Coloured under this weakness, of which he felt ashamed, by an the Superintendence of Captain Thomas Brown, FL assumed brusquerie. His class fellows felt alternately Part I. Edinburgh: Constable. London attracted and repelled by gentleness, that spoke out through his whole demeanour and by a coldness and Hurst, Chance, and Co. 22615 to 2.9jaya ad rudeness which met all approaches towards intimacy. 9 918 9geugust 200 ni THESE illustrations are intended to comprise the whole of the birds published by Wilton and Charles Bonaparte, with the addition of numerous recently discovered species, as also representations of the principal insects, fruits, and forest trees of America, now for the first time introduced The birds are in many instances langer, and is none smaller than in the original works. The plates contained in the part now before us equal, in fidelity and spirit, the original works, and do not cost more than one-sixth of their price. They form an appropriate accompaniment to the elegant edition of Wilson and Bonaparte, now pub 98 His genius was great, but unequal. He was deficient in that distinctness of perception which enables a man to distinguish, himself by the acquisition of languages, or by a mastery over the details of physical science. He had little welish for the beauties of nature, and though of a warm temperament, was not alive to sentiment. His strength was apparent in the subtle distinctions and concatenations of logic: and I have never met with one who had a more just feeling of severe moral beauty. His mode of expressing himself was akin to his mental characterit was concise, nervous, always in good taste, but simple to a degree that in the eyes of the multitude bordered upon austerity. A character so constituted appeared in the eyes of his preceptors, as well as of his companions, a strange medley of inconsistencies. He was diffident and retiring, yet selfwilled to such a degree, that it was at times impossible to decide to which feeling his conduct ought to be attributed. His loneliness had rendered him suspicious; and the shrinking from the advice and friendly approaches of others, which was often the mere consequence of timidity, was not unnaturally attributed to sullen stubbornness. The same cause prevented him from acquiring that tact, só necessary to the comfort of social intercourse, which teaches us to defer to the honest prejudices of others; and his wild expression of the scepticism of inexperience revolted many. His moral sense, too, it must be confessed, although pure and elevated, partook of the indecision of his whole character, and was insufficient to restrain him from occasional excess. To the temptations of inebriety he was peculiarly exposed, because when heated with wine he felt liberated for the moment from the bashfulness which so painfully constrained him in his cooler moments. I was more intimate with him than any of the rest of our contemporaries. Our favourite studies were the same. A distant connexion between our families gave us a certain claim upon each other. Being by these cir. cumstances brought more closely in contact with him, I was better enabled to discover the veins of pure and sterling ore which ran through the coarser clay of his being. Still our friendship, if such it could be called, was far from being confidential or unreserved. However we might be at our ease over night, I was never certain that our meeting next morning would be free from reserve and stiffness. A train of events, which it is unnecessary here to recapitulate, obliged me, at the close of my college life, to quit the country for a time, and while abroad, I entirely lost sight of my wayward companion. When at length I returned, my first enquiries were concerning him. I learned that with his small fortune he had purchased an annuity, upon which he had lived in retirement at a small village in the shire of I resolved to visit him. He was apparently in delicate health, but uttered no complaints. The reserve which always characterised had gained upon him in retirement, and it was not till after dinner that he afforded me any insight into his mode of life. I remarked that he drank much and hastily. Under the influence of the wine, he grew gradually more communicative. I now learned that, unable to accommodate himself to the ways of the world, he had shrunk back into retirement. His was, however, a mind to which solitude was irksome, and he sought refuge from his own thoughts in such society as he could commandfor the most part of persons every way inferior to himself, because with such he felt more at his ease. When this resource could not be had, he not unfrequently turned to the bottle. The indulgence of this solitary sottishness, the converse with low and vulgar minds, and habitual indolence, had rendered him incapable of any persevering exertion. Something of his youthful tastes still adhered to him. The few books in his house were our most profound and chastest English classics. It was apparent that he still delighted to trace in his reveries the devious workings of his own mind. He spoke with a fearfully distinct consciousness of his own degraded condition; but it was with apathetic resignation to his fate. He felt that he never could do any thing; he expressed a conviction that he could not live long. I endeavoured to stimulate him to some exertion, but he only shook his head. It was with difficulty that I obtained permission to retire for the night. He entertained a childish terror at the thoughts of being left alone, and adjured me with tears to sit by his bedside till he fell asleep. Nearly a year elapsed before I had it in my power to repeat my visit. I was struck with horror at the change which had taken place in his appearance during the interval. He was pale and emaciated. It was with the utmost difficulty that he could walk across his parlour. He had broke a blood-vessel, he told me, a few months before. I enquired whether he had taken medical advice: he eagerly replied that he had consulted Dr, and Dr ; that they had given him encouragement. There was a convulsive eagerness in his language, which led me to doubt that he was not stating the opinions of these gentlemen correctly; and I afterwards learned that my suspicion was just. What a strange infatuation! to seek encouragement in blinding others to what he could not close his own eyes against. It was barely possible that, by strict abstemiousness, and avoiding all excitements to strong emotion, he might recover; but of this self-denial he was incapable. Poor Wentworth! his last days were melancholy. The avenues to his affections were shut up-he could not repose on the attachment of any one-he existed in a solitude of the heart. Although no Atheist, he wanted that confiding love which alone can realize to the human mind the existence of the God who watches over the fall of a sparrow. He felt that anxious dread of death ever produced by the relaxation of the nervous system. He was irritated at the thoughts of leaving a world where he saw the capability of enjoyment, while he felt that he had never tasted it. Often in the dead of night has he been heard to lift up his voice and weep, alternately bewailing an i cursing his destiny. He survived my second visit only a few weeks. There are few, I believe, in whom the union of strength and weakness exists to such a marked degree as in my poor Wentworth. And it is to be hoped, that few are exposed in childhood to that chilly moral atmosphere which withered his heart. Yet his fate may serve as a warning to more than is generally imagined. I would remind such, that a bold struggle may save even at the last hour. LITERARY SKETCHES AND PARALLELS.. By Robert Carruthers. COWPER AND WORDSWORTH. L. As poets, delighting alike in the description of rural life, scenery, and manners, Cowper and Wordsworth may be compared together. Both are mannerists-founder's of separate and widely-dissimilar schools-yet both possess much in common. They present strong points of resemblance as well as contrast; and the Task and Excursion, to those who know them best, challenge comparison almost as forcibly as they do admiration. In the writings of both, a vivid and minute perception, or rather a deep and passionate sense, of the charms of ex. ternal nature, shines out in every page. This is their chosen hallowed ground. They are high priests in the temple of Nature, ministering alike devoutly in the sunshine and the storm, and whose golden censers are filled with fire from on high. Their light, however, is turned to all the human race. No poets have evinced a closer sympathy with their kind—with the social charities, cares, joys, and griefs of humanity. Living in strict seclusion from the ordinary business of the world, both may be said to have specially devoted themselves to the service of whatsoever things are pure, lovely, and of good report. The cause of natural religion, piety, and inno "Here's freedom to him wha wad write," is our motto; and when a contributor like Mr Carruthers comes, we do not ask however, that, cordially concurring in his judgment of Cowper, whether our literary creeds agree at all points. We must say, we dissent from his opinion of Wordsworth. In our estimation, Wordsworth stands alone of English poets on the same pedestal with Milton. He, too, was the first in our day to lift up the desecrated banner of English poetry from the dust.-E. L. J. cent enjoyment, is largely their debtor. They have shed is cast. His poetical reveries have been fed by daily over the humble, sequestered walks of life, the light and contemplation of the most striking and magnificent objects grace of poetry, and have connected with some of its in nature, while (in keeping with the landscape) the commonest pursuits and occupations, images of surpassing tenants of his native dales and mountains still retainbeauty and tenderness, and associations of the most eleva-sufficiently at least for poetry—a patriarchal antique simted and touching character. Cowper's female cottager, weaving at her own door, and happy in the possession of her Bible—the meek and modest pair who grew not rich with all their thrift, yet were blessed with mutual love and virtuous patiencehis pictures of the simple holydays and carnivals of the poor, when spring calls the unwonted villagers abroad, with all their little ones, "To gather kingcups on the yellow mead," are all so many proofs of the lively interest and exultation felt by the poet in the joys and virtues of his lowliest neighbours. And perhaps this praise is as emphatically due to Wordsworth as to Cowper. All who have read and felt the " Excursion," must remember the thrilling interest and pathos of the story of the cottagers in the first book-that melancholy tale of the "Last human tenant of the ruin'd walls," which, overgrown with matted weeds and wild flowers, stood undistinguished by the road-side on the common. The narrative of the Vicar, in the same poem, which commemorates the virtues and characters of those who lie interred in the churchyard among the mountains, is marked by the same truth, individuality, and pathos. Cowper's pencil, graphic and inimitable as it was, could not have traced with greater distinctness and fidelity, or light-touched with finer hues, the following soft and beautiful picture: "Of that tall pine, the shadow of whose bare When stormy winds Were all things silent, wheresoe'er he moved." Then We must not stop to finish the portraiture. there is the pastor himself, worthy of Chaucer or Herbert-the patriarch of the tale-the young peasant, beloved and regretted by all, whose eulogy is introduced by a most original and picturesque simile, conceived in the spirit of Spenser or Massinger : "The mountain ash, This is poetry. It is obvious that the bard of Westmoreland has enjoyed a great advantage over the poet of Olney in the solitary grandeur, richness, and sublimity of the scenery amidst which his lot—a happy and dignified one plicity of manners and originality of character. Objects like these, however frequently beheld, must have a tendency to elevate and abstract the mind, and hence a certain power in shaping the inspirations of the Muse. Rousseau, in a splendid passage of his Confessions, has borne his testimony to the ennobling, inspiring influence of the free air of the mountain tops; Byron drank deeply of this silent luxury, and even the most unimaginative person must have been impressed with the wild, solemn, and contemplative spirit breathed from a lofty range of mountain scenery, with its accompaniments of lake, wood, and waterfall. Lord Bacon said, with a sort of pun, that he loved to study in a small chamber, because it helped him to condense his thoughts. But poets, who read the book of nature, and whose business is with the whole of this visible and material universe, cannot have too wide a horizon for their vision. Amid such scenes, Wordsworth grew up and was matured. What Cowper would have been among the vast mountain solitudes of Westmoreland-whether he could ever have been so effectually subdued and transformed by the genius of the place as Wordsworth-must be left to fancy; but nothing can be imagined more tame and prosaic than his "daily walks and ancient neighbourhood" at Olney. A miserable village, with as miserable inhabitants-a few-very few-friends-and a country flat and unvaried, though rich in cultivation, marked the poet's outward destiny. Yet how much has he not made of his slender, unpromising materials! What gems has he not dug out of a mine, into which no other poetical adventurer would have dreamed of sinking a shaft! The silent windings of the Ouse seem palpably before us-we see the spacious verdant meadows on its banks, "with cattle sprinkled o'er"—the elm-trees, hedges, styles, church-spire, and cheerful bells, with all the other simple adjuncts of the scene, the meanest of which was consecrated in his sight --and the "Groves, heaths, and smoking villages remote," on which he gazed through the vicissitudes of years— some of them long, dark, and painful ones-till the light of reason, of memory, and life had fled. The glowing freshness, vigour, and brief fidelity of these delineations, constitute one of the chief glories of Cowper, and distinguish him not only from Wordsworth, but from Thomson, and most other descriptive poets. Nothing is inserted or sacrificed for effect-the scene is placed before us exactly as it is. In his poem of Retirement, there is a happy example of this excellence : "The hedge-row shrubs, a variegated store, This is fact. A literal enumeration of objects which may be seen from hundreds of cottage doors in England, and which we in Scotland, who are somewhat lofty and fastidious on the score of scenery, would, perhaps, con sider very flat and commonplace. Yet, who does not own that there is a charm, and even an originality, in the description? Who ever before heard of " green balks" in poetry? "Balk," says Johnson, “a ridge of land left unploughed between the furrows, or at the end of the field." It is in the latter sense that the term is used by the poet-and a very pleasing feature these balks are in the common country landscape of the midland coun ties. They are excellent, soft, green, retired walks, often with a brook on one hand, fringed by a row of willow and alder-trees. Many a tranquil happy hour have we spent, pacing them in the fading gleam of twilight, cheered by the song of the blackbird, and dreaming of distant scenes. 15 some o' us; an' then she had lang yellow hair, hangin' doon anent her snub nose-an' a wee short neck—au' a splae foot; in short, she was the maist ill-faured jade as ever hirpled frae ae end to the ither o' St Mary's Loch. It's no kent whether Jean was quite canny or no; there was something sãe unco queer aboot the cratur, an' she leuch like nae mortal in this wide warld. Mony a time hae I heard her, half-a-mile ́aff—an'tan eldritch scream she gied, for it went frae Meggat Foot up to Bourhope Head, and floated>ower far aboon the Berry-bush awa to Etterick-water, and settled doon by Thirlestane-lumtap. They say Jean had neither faither nor mither, but was found a' alane up near Bodsbeck, a puir skirliu' bairn ; and Wat Anderson's colley eam upon her, and wud hae eaten her up gin-itɑwere, Hae for Wat himsell, who tuik the young brat, under bis, plaid, and gied her a soup o' part, left it à bantle siller an' a bit o' a hut up the Oxthing thrived; an' Wat, when he died, eledith, Bat never a mortal did she speak to, gin it were nae and of Wat's family und an auld pedlar that brought а Though Cowper, in his Task, and Wordsworth, in his Excursion, aimed at the same object," to composé à philosophical poem, containing views of man, nature, and society," they pursued it by widely different means! | The former seized upon the follies and vices of society, and lashed them with keen satiric ardour, alternately exhorting, commanding, and contemning; or pouring before his readers, with all the prodigality of genius, the varied knowledge, exuberant fancy, restless curiosity, desires, beliefs, and passions, with which his heart and mind were filled. He made the pablit His confidants, and in his communings with them used no dis guise. He addressed himself to a classes and degrees of men, and by all classes and degrees he is read. He is strictly a national poet his strains are part of the wealth and glory of England, as much as St Paul's of West minster Abbey. Wordsworth has never aimed at this extensive popularity ty, and we may safely prophesy will sorts flammery gear, for Jean was a dressy lass, and never attain it. His motto 13' the words of Milton weel kit to rigg hersell out in braw colours, an' mony a “Fit audience Tet' me find though few. Happy time wud she be seen stan'in' ower the loch-edge to luk himself, he goes on wellving His interminable Verse soft, at her ungainly sell in the bonnie and calm water; an’ picturesque, diffusely solemn, and often subline, as if he the gied sie queer smirks, ane wad hae thocht her stark had caught an echo of the 'harp of Milton, and reasoning mad.eid le su092 29'89ius armoɔ 9 að high on men and angels. In his retirement, weeds have 99 Weel, it happened at forendon that Jean met in wi' mingled with the Howers fungous shoots have crept Will Laidlaw, a find hearty callant, wham the maister at round and disfigured the stem. A mistaken and ridicus | Dryhope had hired to herd 'his sheep roun' about the lous theory as to what are the fittest objects for poetry, Coppercledch." Will was but a-new-comer, an' it was has drawn the poet into numberless puerilities and abd the first time Texti had seen him. “A braw day, surdities; and his fine solemn didactic vein of medita Iass," inith her but no a word did she answer, but she tion, thus misapplied, has not unfrequently tended to comes straight up to him and luks him' in the face like heighten and point the" satire with which he has been are 'b' his af collies, and she 'gies him a daut on the assailed. His style of versification also seems sickled Showthers; Muttering 'a' the while, The bonnie mannie o'er with the pale bale cast of thought, and wants that brief elegance, sententious o force, and elasticity, and those con centrated bursts, unexpectedly kindled up, and lighten of Cowper. It is the Bonnlé inannie!”e biShe's en queer ane, thocht Will, and he axed. her to stán aside, but Jean was no sae easy persuaded but the shoves in-her great yellow pow richt anent the callant's face. Tak that for yer impu ing all around, which mark the Phigh and unqfies- dence, ye hussy,” quoth Wilk accompanying his words wi' surprising that a writer possessing a stounder on Jean's great blowsy haffits; but the lass There's a muckle stane down by Coppercleuch, ca'd Kitty Crench's Stané. Kitty Crench was the auld mermaid that swain About St Mary's Loch, and mony a time, on the moonlit hichts, is she kent to be gatherin' luckan gowns doon by in the meadow at Meggat Foot, or she gangs up to the grey rocks, and sits kaimin her lang hair, and there she sings queer sangs of hersell and the water-kelpies that bides by Bourhope, and the hagbrownies, and the puddock fairies, and a' sic queer craturs. Well, what does Jean do, aboot gloamin' time, but she sits herself doon on Kitty's stane, and just as Will LaidJaw' comes by to return to Dryhope, up she springs wi’ an uneo skirt, and gets chaud ở' the callant roun' about the neck, and Will thinks he's in the han's o' the deil, anan awrd' wark he maks to get loose; but Jean was "The intelligible forms of ancient poets, The fair humanities of old religion,the 7a 91 A } The power, the beauty,?and thélmajestys That had their haunts in dale, or piny mountain, Or forest, by slow stream, or pebbly spring,(el Or chasms and watery depths" gode uns 200 These are the genuine sources of. Wordsworth's power |_ ́d hard gripper, and, what wit Will's fricht an' her ain -the key to his strength and greatness. 151935 strength, she gars the chield stotter doon amang the J9dd300 heather, CHP Blith cam' plump, heid an' heels, ower inte 2'stadt yn the loch AiJuve is no sae ill to cool, when there's 91-ais19e Stannin' ground, and the jaud lets quit o' Will in a didoujiffy, after findin' hersell amaist droonin'. As for the ill-faured to callant, he maks oot in his ain-way, and thanks his starns for so unlooked for an escape frae sic an awsome fiend as Kitty Crench. JEAN ANDERSON. to A SONSY kimmer was Jean Anderson, an' boot. In troth I never luked upon a mair out-o the way piece of flesh. She was round as a hedgehog-baith humph-backit and bandy-legged,—and maist awsomely did she squint wi' ane o' her goggle een-an' gaped wi' her muckle mou', as if she wad fain tak a swallow o' Jean gat hame girnin', an' vowed a pretty revenge for Will's unmannerly behaviour. Au' what do ye think the kimmer does? A nicht or twa after, doon she comes |