The character of the olive has some pretty touches :

"The olive, the fig, and vine, are the three triumviri, that might well have shared the monarchy of trees between them; as having the voices of all the tribunes on their parts. But the olive especially refused the sceptre, as greater in itself than the flash and lustre of purple and diadem could make it. It is the true Agathocles, contented with his salads in an earthen dish. It is even the meek and innocent dove of trees, as the dove is the olive of birds, having such sympathy and fair correspondences with them. It was once the gladsome mirth and joyful solace of Noah's heart, was then, and is still, the ensign of peace and mercy. It is the herald of arms, that passeth freely to and fro amid the halberts and squadrons of pikes, and cries out but, Hold your hands,' and all is whist. It decks the brows of poets equal with laurel, since Apollo and Minerva were as brother and sister, and dear to each other."

These stately periods may perhaps call Sir Thomas Browne to mind; the following picture shows a felicity and a sweetness of which the learned knight has left no examples:

"The dove is a meek creature, and hath no gall; she feeds on no living thing; she brings up others' young; she makes choice of the purest grain; she builds in the rocks; she hath groans for singing

notes; and sits very willingly by the water's side, that she may suddenly shun the hawk, foreseen by his shadow therein. And though she be never so chaste, innocent, and loyal to her mate, yet can she not avoid his jealousy. Which you may see, and it is a contemplation to note the while; when the cock returns to his dovecot, how discovering his jealousies, his little breast will swell up to the bigness of his body; then with his voice to break forth into a hoarse and angry note; by and by to walk in state as it were, and encompass his mate about, and with the show of a wrothful Nemesis, rake the ground with the swift trailing and shutting of his train; and that you may not doubt but he is angry indeed, with the pecking of his bill and strokes of his wings, he persecutes the poor wretch deserving it not. Yet she abides very patient to all, nor is troubled a whit at his causeless indignation proceeding out of vehemence of love; she flies not away to shun him, and withdraw herself, but rather approaches nearer and closer to him; she returns not blow for blow again, but meekly endures and suffers all, until the diuturnity of sufferance and her meekness do vanquish and mollify the choler and fierceness of the furious thing. And so at last the cock forgetting his suspicion, is quite tamed, and laying the enemy aside, puts on the lover, returns to reconciliation of friendship again, and the joining of their bills together, with more

ardent affection, renews the same, as the flame is increased with the sprinkling of frigid drops thereon."

The passages which have been cited may sparkle like the true ores of poetry, and promise a golden harvest. But, alas! they are but small nodules found at long intervals in a weary mass of rubbish. Even one specimen of the dross may prove too much :

“The seas are the great diet, or parliament, held of waters, at the first creation of the world, when God himself was the only speaker of the house; where they met of compulsion rather than fair accord, when for the time there will be no dealing with them, so implacable they are, that the stoutest are fain to vale-bonnet and stoop unto them. They are great usurers, and likely never to let go any pawns they once lay hold of, which they extort full sore against their wills who leave them in their clutches."

XXIV.

THE DEVIL'S JUDGMENT IN THE BELLES LETTRES.

MANY examples might be given of Beelzebub's excellent taste in music, but none stronger than the anecdote of the devil's sonata, which every body knows. Our Scotish witch trials show that he was singularly curious in dancing. Instances of his skill in poetry are less common. Melancthon,

according to the erudite Weckerus, speaks somewhere of having heard of an Italian girl, of whom it pleased Satan to enter into possession. Until that time she knew not even her A B C, but she was now able to solve the knotty question, Which is the best line in Virgil? The answer was—

"Discite justitiam moniti et non temnere divos."2 "Learn righteousness, and dread th' avenging deities."

Truly, the Prince of Darkness is a gentleman of a most virtuous disposition.3

XXV.

FAIRS.

In the feudal ages, the right of holding fairs was a valuable privilege, conceded by the sovereign to the lord of the manor; and from the arts which the old barons used to draw crowds to their mar

1 Joan. Jac. Weckeri de Secretis, lib. xv. cap. xxii. p. 545, edit. Basil. 1629.

2 Æneid. vi. 620.

3 "Against atheistical writers," said Burke, "I would have the laws rise in all their majesty of terrors, to fulminate such vain and impious wretches, and to awe them into impotence by the only dread they can fear or believe, to learn that eternal lesson,-Discite justitiam moniti et non temnere divos."-Speech on a Bill for the Relief of Protestant Dissenters, 1773.

kets, perhaps Warren and Rowland might learn new ways of alluring purchasers to their marts of blacking and bear's grease. Much skill was shown in choosing the site; the author of a Statistical View of the Fairs of France remarks, that on examining his work it will appear that they were placed, for the most part, on the frontiers of the kingdom, or on the marches of ancient provinces; or at the foot of high mountains, at the beginning or end of the snow season, which for months shuts up the inhabitants in their valleys; or in the neighbourhood of famous cathedrals or churches frequented by flocks of pilgrims; or in the middle of rich pastures. The devotion of the people was also turned to good account; many fairs were held on Sundays in churchyards; and almost in every

1 "This practice," says Mr Maclaurin, " was indeed discharged in Scotland by the act 1503, c. 83; but it crept in again not long after. And by 1540, c. 122, Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday, are declared to be market-days in the town of Edinburgh. The weekly market of the borough of Forfar was likewise held on Sunday; but by 1593, c. 195, Friday is substituted in the place of it. Several later statutes have again and again forbid fairs and markets to be held on Sunday, and they have been obeyed; yet even at this day messengers-at-arms execute warnings and make intimations of sales on Sunday at church-doors; and there and then, auctions, strayed cattle, and things lost, are proclaimed."-Maclaurin's Criminal Cases, pp. 575, 576. Singular opinions on the effect of the