sess such in reality, but which in point of fact they were never actuated by. A poet's sentiments must appear spontaneous; if he once let his readers into the knowledge of the effect he is attempting to produce, that is, to excite their sensibilities, he will never succeed in his object. Thus, while the world of imagination is open before him, in whose gardens his eyes court unmolested their flowers, he must still keep within the sight of nature; for if he once loses her, or grows repugnant to her sentiments, however wild or romantic his work may be, still it will never produce that effect which, if he had not transgressed her laws, would have been his reward.

The aspirant should remember, that his efforts will not be judged by poets, but by those whose standard of judgment is less elevated than his own, consequently, more cool and collected: his purpose, therefore, must be to excite his readers' feelings into a glow above the common affairs of life, and release their minds from its harsh realities; if he suc ceeds, he has them truly in his power. They feel equally with him all his joys and woes, and enter into the luxuriance of his emotions, till his own thoughts and sentiments become so equally blended with them, that they actually believe such to be the offspring of their own bosoms. This is the grand object-the ne plus ultra-of poetry. If the bard attempts to startle his reader by an innovation from nature, he at once bares himself to the scrutinizing eye, the cold calculative medium of reality. The brilliant tints that his fancy threw over the unreal creations of his mind, are absorbed in the mists of doubt. The vision produced by the heating of their imagination, flies at the approach of returning reason, and the mind at such a discovery, feels awakened as if from a dream.

The grand art in poetry, therefore, is to give a vent to all the vagaries of fancy; never to appear studied or affected, never to seem anxious to obtain an effect; but depend upon cause (the exciting of pleasing emotion and the enkindling of fancy,) to obtain those objects, and be always mindful to keep within the boundaries of nature, for if they are once transgressed, the poet immediately releases the reader from the sway he had over his mind.

B.

DR. ANDREWS, BISHOP OF WINCHESTER.

MR. WALKER, the celebrated poet, going to see King James the First at dinner, overheard a very extraordinary conversation between the King, Dr. Andrews, Bishop of Winchester, and Dr. Neale, Bishop of Durham. These two prelates, standing behind the King's chair, his Majesty asked them, "My Lords," said he, "cannot I take my subjects' money when I want it, without all this formality in parliament?" The Bishop of Durham readily answered, "God forbid, Sir, but you should; you are the breath of our nostrils:" whereupon the King turned, and said to the Bishop of Winchester, “Well, my Lord, what say you?” "Sir," replied Bishop Andrews, "I have no skill to judge of parliamentary The King answered, "No put-offs, my Lord, answer me presently.' "Then Šir," said he, I think it lawful for you to take my brother Neale's money, for he offers it." King James is said to have been much struck with this answer.

cases."

The WITCH-FINDER, or the Wisdom of our Ancestors.

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A. Romance. By the Author of "The Lollards," " Other Times," " Calthorpe," &c. Longman and Co. 3 Vols. 1824.

AUTHORS have been apt to view the Author of Waverley in no better light than a monopolizer of that enviable and difficult to be obtained gift Fame. We owe him no grudge; so far from it, we are almost unable to express the gratitude we are under to him for the favour he has bestowed on us. Not for granting us so much delight and edification as his efforts invariably do,—that is but a minor consideration,-but for the great and proud change his example has wrought on his brethren. Our table, which was formerly covered with the slime of Leadenhall-street, and which we recoiled from as a disagreeable task, imposed on our unfortunate fate, we now turn to with symptoms of delight, when covered with such ornaments as the "Witch-Finder," and two or three other works we have had occasion to notice latterly. It is the brilliant example, joined to his success, of the Author of the Scotch Novels, that has inspired "minor hands" to attempt something worthy of the age in which they are written. Among these commendable authors, that of the Witch-Finder stands very conspicuously.

The scene of the Witch-Finder is laid at a time when belief of witchcraft had arrived at an astonishing height-the eve of the Restoration. The characters are numerous, and drawn with considerable ability, and contain much curious knowledge of the interesting period it relates to. As a specimen of the style, we give the following extract.

Hopkins (the Witch-Finder) has been invited to detect a witch:"Thorpe left the house, accompanied by Hopkins, to superintend the preliminary experiment. A crowd had assembled for the double spot of hunting a cow, and detecting a witch. The rabble divided their stares between the oddly disfigured animal they were about to torment, and the important personage by whose advice this foolery was to be practised. The signal was given by Hopkins, who for that purpose waved his highcrowned hat to the mob. At once a thousand voices were heard in hoarse, but jocund discord, and as many sticks and goads were applied to the poor animal's back and sides. The cow bellowed, the mob shouted, and by the judicious directions of Hopkins and his man, every thing went on very favourably. The lecture which Thorpe had given to those who baulked him on the former occasion, was not thrown away. It was indeed so well understood in which direction they were to go, and Thorpe's labourers were so anxious to atone for their former failure, that unusal discipline prevailed, and the frantic object of their cruelty was soon seen desperately rushing through all obstructions towards the humble residence of the suspected female.

"The wide-spreading tumult was heard afar, and reached the poor retreat of Dame Neville. Little imagining the cause of the disturbance, the unusual clamour induced her to walk to the extremity of the enclosure belonging to her cottage. She saw a multitude of persons in motion, but the noise which they made had so much mirth in it, that

she felt quite satisfied no one was in danger. She perceived the riotous merry-makers, one and all, bend their steps towards the place where she stood, and at length she discerned the goaded animal which they followed. Raging with the intolerable torture inflicted by the blows of the multitude, the creature happened at this moment to shake from its horns the tatters which had till then adhered to them. A yell of strange exultation burst from the mob; and, stunned by the uproar, Dame Neville hastened to conceal herself from the advancing rioters.

"See you there,' said Hopkins to Thorpe, who kept close to him nearly in the front of the mob. "See you with what shame and confusion she tries to hide herself.'

"Had she not known that she was guilty, she would never have fled thus precipitately.'

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upon.'

Certainly not. This of itself is in my mind enough to condemn

"It tells me, Master Thorpe, that she knows the devil is disposed to abandon her.'

"But little talent and exertion were now required to drive the cow close up to the door of the cottage. The welkin again rung with the acclamations of the rabble, and the poor beast was now honoured with the senseless plaudits of her followers, many of whom approached, and would fain have patted her to show their kindly feeling, if the irritated state to which she had been brought had not made her too startlish to admit of their coming near with safety.

"And now, every thing being adjusted, the witch-discoverer stalked forward. He wore a cloak surmounted by a white linen collar, which spread over each shoulder. The cloak was thrown open by the elbow of the right arm, which was placed a-kimbo, while the left was halfextended, the hand grasped a staff as tall as himself, which was somewhat larger than a common halbert stick at the top, but came tapering downwards till it was not larger than the fore-finger of a man. From time to time he majestically waved this, the sceptre of command, to direct those near him to advance or retire. His bushy hair surmounted by a tall and rather pyramidic hat, gave his upper part an air of grim authority, and his boots, the tops of which presented the semblance of two funnels beneath his knees, were finished with formidable spurs, which, however inconvenient, he would not put off on such occasions, from a wish to retain all the importance of hurry, while following his

vocation.

"Arriving at the place to which it had been proposed to adjourn, the females who had consented to assist on this grand occasion were found ready to perform their part. Hopkins craved some pause, while he addressed them as a judge would a grand jury, directing them how to proceed in the enquiry which they had been called there to make. He told them they were to ascertain whether or not the accused had three teats, but he remarked to them that they must not expect the third one

to be precisely like the others.. Sometimes the devil caused that which he provided for the accommodation and nourishment of his imps, to resemble a pimple; at other times it wore the appearance of a mole, and very frequently it would appear no other than the prick of a pin. These varieties, and the possible minute size of that for which they sought, made it necessary to use great diligence in the search.

"Dame Neville was taken into the cottage. At this moment a sparrow flew over the crowd, and settled on the roof of the house. The people generally took no notice of it, but the moment Hopkins saw the bird he perceived a new proof of guilt, and called out,

"You see yon thing, neighbours?' pointing to the sparrow. 666 Mean you that bird?'

"That thing in the shape of a sparrow is no true bird. This is one of the witch's familiars, who, wanting suck, has followed her from her home.'

"So I judged,' said Thorpe. But tell me, good Master Hopkins, by what indubitable sign shall the familiar be known, from the thing of which it wears the resemblance.

"By observation, and especially by noting the time, place, and circumstance of its appearance. Why, I pray you, should a sparrow, which is naturally a timid and modest bird, come here in presence of this congregation? Why should it settle on the very top of this dwelling??

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Pooh!" said James, I have sometimes marked sparrows to be so saucy, that I could hardly scare them away by shouting with all my might and main. Is this the form in which imps, as you call them, always come?'

666

666 Certainly not. I have seen a familiar wear the shape of a butterfly.' "Why then I suppose any bird, beast, or insect, found near the abode of one accused of witchcraft, may be made a familiar.'

"The devil is not nice about the vehicles he selects for his offspring to travel in to work his will.'

"The cry was now up, that the sparrow was no other than one of the witch's familiars, and a volley of stones was sent towards it by the mob, to mark their indignation against the devil, and all belonging to him. This salutation induced the sparrow to take wing, and he immediately proved that his quality had not been mistaken, by flying out of sight. It was unanimously resolved that the familiar, terrified by the holy proceedings then in progress, bad vanished-with a noise like thunder, some said, but all were not agreed on that point."

A HINT TO AUTHORS.

ONE of the arts of writing, at least as far as the communication of pleasure is concerned, is to write with enjoyment. He whose task gives him real pleasure, for its own sake, unaccompanied with uneasy thoughts about its success, or mere pride of authorship, can hardly fail in communicating some portion of his pleasure to others, if it be only from witnessing his own gladdened face.

NATIVE TALENT UNREWARDED.

THE morning was gay and beautiful, and I thought I could not spend it with more satisfaction to my own feelings, than by directing my steps to that new and much-admired exhibition-the Society of British Artists. Being endowed with a taste for the Fine Arts, I enjoyed with additional pleasure, the rich treat afforded me, by the contemplation of some favourite and clever productions in the perspective line One indeed, from the sublimity and grandeur of the scenery, particularly struck me. An elderly, but dignified looking stranger, evidently appeared to entertain the same opinion as he stood regarding the landscape with an eye of critical observation. I quitted his side, and again lounged through this attractive gallery; the more I surveyed the merits of each picture, the more was I gratified, as the reflection occupied my mind, that this infant Society was likely, from the possessions of superior talent, and the exertions of enterprising genius, to rank high in public estimation, and even in some instances, rival old and long established contemporary institutions. As I sauntered along, the gentleman whom I mentioned as above, again attracted my attention; he had not removed from the spot on which I had left him standing, still regarding the same fine subject, which had excited in me no ordinary share of interest. A friend now approached him-I was all attention to the passing conversation, though apparently an indifferent spectator." Well, Sir William, may I presume to enquire your opinion as to the merits of the beautiful picture before us, on which I have long observed you fix your ardent and admiring gaze."—"It is exquisitely beautiful," returned the Baronet. "Why not purchase it then, (retorted the other;) you say it pleases you, and as you are a connoisseur, Sir William, you could not do better than in having it conveyed to your picture gallery, raising by such means the fame of the artist, as well as prove highly honourable to your own taste and superior discernment."- Ah, there is one thing which must of necessity be enquired into, and that is, the name of the Årtist. If he is a man of any fame, the picture is mine, cost me what it will."

Now it was that I experienced a sentiment of indignant feeling towards the stranger, who, on learning that the Artist was a very young man, unpatronized, though bidding fair to rival many in the list of competitorship by his promising talents, pronounced a cool "Humph!”—with the addition of," It won't do." I flattered myself that I was something of a physiognomist, as I fancied I could trace in the expressive lineaments of his countenance, the workings of a mind, endeavouring to compromise its conscience with the weak idea, that it would be folly to risk the dear-bought reputation of being thought a connoisseur, by purchasing the works of one whom nobody knew. Thus is private feeling, in spite of reason and better sense, sacrificed to the controul of this slavish and no less amiable principle. But how I triumphed when informed, that a Nobleman, of independent spirit, and a lover of the Fine Arts, had actually purchased the picture in question; and had expressed