decree that he should be king; and accordingly, ever after, all is dated back from that."'

'But I see,' said the admiral, 'you are convinced that I did not speak without warrant. Your own faithful memories would recall multiplied instances within a few months of most broad, open, unblushing use of authors, whose works stand there. This barefaced poaching in open day distresses me.'

'It has completely spoiled my faculty of "hearing," said I. Henceforth I shall invariably feel that a passage finer or more striking than the rest is borrowed.'

'Borrowed and not acknowledged,' said Herbert. Like that rather brazen instance in "Pickwick," where Jingle shows off at the county ball with considerable impertinence and éclat in Mr. Winkle's suit of green.'

'Does he '

'Borrowed, but not lent,' interposed my uncle.

'I was going to say, does he dip as freely into the ministerial authorities of his own community?'

'Neither distinction nor scruple, I fear. John Foster, Thomas Binney, Daniel Katterns, each and all in turns, as they may best serve the purpose of the hour. Imaginative flights, eloquent paragraphs, striking illustrations, now invariably awaken in me uncontrollable suspicions. I feel, the while, as one compelled to sit still and witness a poacher draw his neighbour's preserves, and I muttering to myself all the time, Be honest, man, be honest.'

'A magistrate may well be excused for feeling warmly on such an occasion. And I can only express my profoundest astonishment that a minister of religion, who talks much of holiness and sincerity, and prays much for inward sanctification and the answer of a good conscience, can allow himself in such a course of action.'

'What can be said in favour of the practice?' inquired my uncle. 'Herbert, you are an advocate, what can you make of this case?'

'The brief has not yet been put into my hands-until that is done I must reserve my pleading. Meanwhile, in the conviction that your treatise is much needed, allow me urgently to request its early completion; and as soon as published, send a copy by post to the Rev. Mr. Watnutt, and all whom it may concern.'

At this moment my uncle was called away on magisterial duty. A poor culprit, with a sickly wife and half-starved family, was accused of stealing a quantity of seed potatoes, nearly a bushel, and the sack containing them was found in his possession.

Herbert, somewhat excited, rode forth at rapid pace. Nora's eye was wandering vacantly over the well-stocked shelf whence the volumes had been taken; and I retired to write down these brief notes of our conversation for the CHRISTIAN SPECTATOR, Still believing that the promised essay will not appear.

m.

The Fables of Gotthold Ephraim Lessing.

BOOK THE SECOND.

NO.-I. THE BRAZEN STATUE.

THE brazen statue of a famous artist was melted into a lump by the heat of raging conflagration. This lump came into the hands of another artist, who by his skill made a new statue from it, differing from the first in conception, but equal to it in taste and beauty. Envy saw it, and gnashed his teeth; but at length bethought himself of a miserable comfort. The good man would not have produced this just passable piece, if the material of the old statue had not served him in good stead.'

NO. II.-HERCULES.

When Hercules was taken up to heaven, he saluted Juno before all the other deities. All heaven was astonished at this, and even Juno herself. Dost thou treat thine enemy with such distinction?' said they to him. Yes, even so,' responded Hercules; for it is precisely her persecutions alone which gave me the opportunity of performing those exploits by which I have won heaven.'

Olympus approved the reply of the new god, and Juno was reconciled.

NO. III.—THE BOY AND THE SNAKE.

6

A boy was playing with a tame snake. My dear little animal,' said the boy, 'I would not make myself so familiar with you if the poison had not been extracted from you. You snakes are the most malicious, ungrateful creatures! I have read, indeed, what happened to a poor peasant who compassionately took up a snake, one of thy ancestors, perhaps, which he found half frozen under a hedge, and placed it in his cherishing bosom. Hardly did the base creature recover than it bit his benefactor; and the good, friendly man was killed.' 'I am astonished,' said the snake, 'how partial your historians must be! Ours relate this tale quite differently. Thy friendly man thought the snake was really frozen, and, because it was one of the spotted kind, he put it in his pocket, in order when at home to strip off its beautiful skin. Was that right?' 'Ah! be silent now,' replied the boy. 'What ingrate would not know how to make an excuse for himself!' 'Right, my son,' interrupted the boy's father, who had listened to this conversation. But yet, if thou shouldst ever hear of any extraordinary ingratitude, just examine carefully all the circumstances before thou lettest a human being be stigmatized by so atrocious a charge. True benefactors have rarely served ungrateful persons; yes, I will hope for the honour of humanity-never. But benefactors with little, selfish designs; these, my son, deserve to be rewarded with ingratitude, instead of thankfulness.'

NO. IV. THE WOLF ON HIS DEATH-BED.

The wolf was lying in his last agonies, and cast a searching look back upon his past life. 'I am, indeed, a sinner,' said he, 'but still I hope not one of the greatest. I have done evil, but also much good. Once, I remember, a bleating lamb, which had gone astray from the flock, came so near to me, that I could very easily have killed it; and yet I did nothing to it. Just at this same time, too, I listened to the derision and abuse of a sheep with the most admirable indifference, though I had not any protecting dog to fear.' And I can bear witness to all that,' interrupted friend Fox, who was helping to prepare him for death, for I still remember very well all the circumstances of the case. It was just at the time when you were choking so dreadfully with a bone, which the good-hearted crane afterwards drew out of your throat for you?

เ

NO. V.THE BULL AND THE CALF.

A strong bull, whilst forcing his way through the low stall door, broke the upper post in pieces with his horns. Just look, shepherd,' cried a young calf, 'I never do you such an injury.' 'How glad I should be,' replied the shepherd, if you could do it.' The language of the calf is the language of philosophers. The wicked Bayle! how many honest souls has he vexed with his daring doubts!' Oh, gentlemen! how willingly will we allow ourselves to be vexed, if every one of you can become a Bayle!

NO. VI.-THE PEACOCKS AND THE CROW.

A proud crow adorned herself with the feathers which had fallen from the gay peacocks, and, when she considered herself sufficiently ornamented, boldly mingled with those brilliant birds of Juno. She was recognised, and the peacocks speedily fell upon her with their sharp beaks, to tear off the deceptive finery. Leave off,' she exclaimed at length, 'now you have all that belongs to you back again.' But the peacocks, who had observed some of the crow's own shining wing-feathers, replied, 'Be silent, miserable fool; even these cannot be your own.' And they pecked at her again.

NO. VII. THE LION WITH THE ASS.

When Esop's lion was going to the wood with the ass that was to help him chase the animals with his fearful voice, an impertinent crow called to him from a tree-A beautiful companion! Are you not ashamed to go with an ass?' 'I can surely grant my company to him of whom I can make use,' replied the lion. So all great men think when they favour an inferior with their society.

NO. VII.-THE ASS WITH THE LION.

As the ass was going to the wood with sop's lion, who served him instead of his hunting horn, another ass of his acquaintance met him, and cried out to him, 'Good day, my brother!' 'Impudent fellow,' was the reply. 'And why so?' continued the other ass.

'Are you better than I, because you are going with a lion? Are you anything more than an ass?'

NO. IX. THE BLIND HEN.

A hen that had been accustomed to scratch and had become blind, though blind, did not cease to scratch industriously. Of what use was it to the laborious fool? Another hen that could see, and that saved her own tender foot, never stirred from her side, and, without scratching herself, enjoyed the fruit of the other's toil; for as often as the blind hen had raked up a grain, the one that could see devoured it. The industrious German makes the collectanea, which the witty Frenchman uses.

Poetry.

THE JOURNEY.

I.

HARK, the rain is on my roof!

Every sound drops through the dark

On my soul with dull reproof,
Like a half-extinguished spark.

Me, alas! how am I here

In the midnight and alone?
Caught within a net of fear!
Visioned forms of beauty gone!

I will rise-I will go forth;
Better face the hideous night,
Better dare the unseen north,

Than be quiet without the light.
Black wind rushing round me now,
Sown with stinging points of rain!
Up or down I cannot show;

I am here, and so is pain!

I will leave the sleeping street-
Hie me forth upon the road.
Ah! I cannot stay my feet,
Something yet doth forward goad.
I will take the mountain-path,

Beard the storm within its den;
Know the worst of this dim wrath,
That doth vex the souls of men.

Chasm 'neath chasm! rock piled on rock!
Roots and crumbling earth and stones!

Hark, the torrent's thundering shock!
Hark, the swaying pine-trees' groans!

Ah, I faint-I fall-I die!

Sink to nothingness away!
Lo, a streak upon the sky!
Lo, the opening eye of day!

II.

Mountain heights that lift their snows
O'er a valley green and low,
And a winding path that goes
Guided by the river's flow;
And a music rising ever,

As of peace and low content,
From the pebble-paven river
As an odour upward sent.

And a sighing of the storm
Far away amid the hills,
Like the humming of a swarm
That the summer-forest fills;
And a frequent fall of rain

From a cloud with ragged weft,
And a burst of wind amain

From the mountain's sudden cleft.

Then a night that hath a moon,
Staining all the cloudy white,
Sinking with a soundless tune
Deep into the spirit's night;
Then a morning clear and soft,
Amber on the purple hills,
Warm blue day of summer, oft
Cooled by wandering windy rills.

Joy to travel thus along

With the universe around! I the centre of the throng; Every sight and every sound Speeding with its burden ladenSpeeding home unto my soul! Mine the eye the stars are made in! I the heart of all this whole!

111.

Hills retreat on either hand,
Sinking down into the plain;
Slowly through the level land

Glides the river to the main.
What is that before me, white,
Gleaming through the dusky air?
Dimmer in the gathering night,
Still beheld, I know not where.

Is it but a chalky ridge

Bared by many a trodden mark?
Or a river-spanning bridge,
Miles away into the dark?

Or the foremost leaping waves
Of the everlasting sea,
Where the Undivided laves
Time with its Eternity?

No; 'tis but an eye-made sight,
In my brain a fancied gleam;
Or a thousand things as white
Set in darkness well might seem.