excellence; and it is, or ought to be, the means of leading their aspirations to the throne of Him who is the soul of excellence. And are these the endowments which are to absolve the poet himself from moral obligation? It cannot be we know that it cannot. But the question is not, "Do they absolve?" but, "Do they not confer a greater responsibility?" and this brings another consideration, that, wherever the Almighty has imposed responsibility, he has likewise bestowed proportionate capacity of action. The power of seeing moral beauty and fitness more clearly is, or ought to be, the power of acting more in accordance with the precepts of beauty and fitness, than can be expected from those on whom a less unclouded light is bestowed. A poet, therefore, should be a super-eminently religious

and moral character. Alas! well is it written

"Weak is the will of man, his judgment blind,
Remembrance persecutes, and hope betrays."

turning old glories into dreams. History sinketh beneath her cloud. The traveller, as he paceth amazedly through those deserts, asketh of her, Who builded them? and she mumbleth something, but what it is he knoweth not."

Is not this poetry? and yet how quaint, almost inharmonious, is its structure. Compare it with the famous simile in Pope's Homer, beginning,

"Thus, when the moon, refulgent lamp of night." Will this passage, replete with the most gorgeous epithets, and clothed in the most harmonious verse, of Sir Thomas Browne? It is not our ear which prompts bear a comparison with the strangely-apparelled poetry the verdict, it is our innate feeling of truth and beauty. If thus poetic genius can exist, independent and despite of phraseology, may we not suppose it to be given (we do not say in a high degree) to multitudes of those whom the world would never accuse of being poets? We have heard a It may be thought that we have hitherto been begging Our daily experience confirms this. the question, our observations tending to show that, in servant describe scenery, with a beauty of feeling and an deed, "Poeta nascitur;" but we must not be so mis-imagery which was true poetry; and we hear a child understood nor would we advocate precisely the reverse talk poetry to her doll. Facility of illustration is an of our text. What we wish to prove is, first, that poetic attribute of poetic genius we have met with in a latalent, or feeling, is by no means a rare,-nay, that it is bourer; and one of the most prosaic of our friends a common gift; and, secondly, that it is dependent for possesses this to such a degree as to render her conversaits improvement and perfection upon the cultivation of tion a perfect picture-she dramatises, illustrates; yet the moral and religious feeling. hint that she might be a poet would be met by a declaration of utter impossibility. Let but our readers note carefully the conversations of every-day life, and they will be convinced with us, that the verse in Gray's Elegy,

In speaking of poetic talent we do not in any way include rhyme; this is, and has always been, a matter dependent upon outward circumstances of locality, temperament, fashion. We would scarcely include phrase and diction, our estimate of these being variable, and often influenced by most unworthy associations. But we would define poetry to be that mode of expression, by which intensity of feeling on any subject is conveyed from one mind to another. Of course, the more just-the more striking is the mode of expression, the more complete and rapid will be the communication; hence-and still more, because many persons have not courage to dive beneath a rough surface-it is desirable that the poet should be able to clothe his thoughts in mellifluous language. But words are not poetry. Witness the beautiful idea of the greatest benefactor to history in our day, Professor Heeren: "Persepolis, rising above the deluge of years." This, being a translated passage, is not dependent upon phraseology for its beauty. But who does not feel its exquisiteness, picturing at once the almost miraculous stability of those thread-like columns which the intemperate policy of Alexander failed to overthrow, and the vague, shapeless uncertainty which clouds the period to which their erection is attributed? The whole passage forms one of the most poetically drawn pictures we have ever met with. We had intended referring to a single sentence in the "Story without an End" but, upon looking into the book we find it impossible; the whole is a poem and this again, however ably it may be translated, arises from the "thoughts that breathe." not from the "words that burn." Poetic beauty, then, may exist without musical phraseology:-that it may exist despite of common-place language, Wordsworth's "Excursion" is an instance. Place this poem beside the highly-polished, elaborately-finished "Essay on Man" of Pope; is not the latter far less poetical in essence than the former? Both are reasoning poems; that of Pope is, perhaps, the finest piece of morality in verse ever written; but in vain do we seek in it the ethereal, the heavenly light, which in Wordsworth opens to our view the powers and proper aims of humankind. Pope has evidently weighed every phrase, every word; Wordsworth is often obscure, sometimes vulgar. Again :

"Time sadly overcometh all things, and is now dominant, and sitteth upon a sphynx, and looketh unto Memphis and old Thebes; while his sister, Oblivion, reclineth semi-somnous on a pyramid, gloriously triumphing, making puzzles of Titanian erections, and

"Perhaps in this neglected spot is laid,"

is not hyperbole, no visionary dream of that true poet, who has but too often marred the effect of his genius by forced alliteration and far-fetched epithets.

In advocating the position that poetic genius is very generally inherent in our nature, we willingly and triumphantly admit the almost unapproachable pre-eminence of those masters of song whom the world delights to honour. As, in the deteriorated race of mankind, there arises occasionally a Milo, a Maximin, or a Belzoni, to remind us that "there were giants in those days" so does, from time to time, a torrent of high poetic talent burst forth from some favoured being, not to prove that the rest of his fellow-creatures are inane and unendowed, but to show in its greatest glory the spirit which God hath given to man.

It has been said, that no man can be a true poet who does not live in a land of mountains; but this can never again be asserted, our own poets of the present age falsify it and we might show with ease that it was not true in earlier times. We might refer to the muse of Friesland and Batavia; but it is a more worthy answer, that the heart of man is the same in every clime, in every age, by the "lazy Scheldt," as by the "wandering Po." Scenery, habits, necessities, will materially influence, nay, even direct genius; but they cannot create it. One apparent exception presents itself to us. The Muses never visited the valley of the Nile. When we remember the ancestry of the Egyptians, their early connexion with the inhabitants of Palestine and Syria, and their later subjugation by Persia, that true land of poetry and romance, we are at a loss to account for the anomaly of a great and polished people devoid of anything approaching to poetry; for their sculpture, their paintings, their inscriptions, bear no trace of poetical feeling. Yet Egypt had been, during a long period, under the dominion of Cushite conquerors. Moses, the earliest of poets, received his inspiration amid her stupendous halls. What, then, choked the seed of the most lovely plant of human intellect? Let the answer be a lesson to us. It was the materialism of her religion, and of her national pursuits. Poetry might coexist with, nay, it might form a part of, the Sabean or Magian worship. Poetry was the germ of Hindu idolatry; but with the low, the unspiritual, the material

religion of the Egyptian people, poetry could not amalgamate. Expert almost as ourselves in adapting their productions to the calls of the senses, skilful and unwearied in the invention of everything that would minister to luxury, the domestic arrangements of the Egyptians were almost perfect; while the magnificence and splendour of their buildings just fell below the sublime, from the absence of intellectuality: their architecture, stupendous as it was; their pyramids, untouched by the lapse of ages;-all was prosaic. How different from Elora and Mavalipuram! We had rather accompany Crishna in his fatigues and wanderings, or follow the almost equally fabulous standard of Kawân, when it retrieved the glory of Iran, than slumber in dignified repose upon the couches of the Pharaohs.

ness.

The second part of our subject may be more shortly disposed of. We fully agree that "Poeta non fit;" but we affirm that a genius, even of a moderate grade, may be cultivated and refined into excellence. The memory of our readers will readily point to instances in which even first-rate poetic talent has sunk into degradation by the extinguishment of moral feeling; and, could we read the hearts and minds of the bright lights of the world of poetry, we might see how the contemplation of that which is good and beautiful has fanned, as well as purified, the flame of genius. It is impossible that its fire should burn steadily or strongly when surrounded by the base atmosphere of passion or selfishAnd does not the appetite for the beautiful grow by what it feeds on? The more frequently and deeply we contemplate the face of nature, the more intense is our admiration; it is by raising his thoughts above the concerns of time and sense, and by endeavouring to fix them upon the works of the Almighty, that a poet is educated, if not made. All real poets, from the earliest ages, have loved nature; and we can scarcely imagine a mind incapable of being raised to something like poetry by the contemplation of a beautiful landscape. It would not be difficult to trace in a poet's works the lapse of his moral being into careless sensuality, nor to mark the gradual renovation of his muse under better influences: the poet has varied with the How necessary, then, is it for the aspirant after poetic excellence to cultivate the virtues, as well as the talents, of his nature!

man.

THE MILLER'S NIECE.

A STORY OF CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE. (1)

On the day of trial the Court was crowded, and many well-dressed ladies were observed in the audience. Judge Heath was a man whose character inclined to severity.

A death-like stillness pervaded the court, when the prisoners were called forth and conducted to the bar. All eyes were instantly turned upon them, and a halfsuppressed exclamation of surprise broke forth. Richard Bracewell appeared deadly pale; but stood firmly, and looked respectfully yet unwaveringly upon the members of the jury. Margaret looked modestly downwards, and her cheeks were flushed; but when, now and then, she lifted her eyes to confront a witness, it was with a calm and steady expression. Will Crooks presented, in his whole person and demeanour, a striking contrast to his fellow-prisoners. He attempted, sometimes, to assume an air of defiance; but his boldness was evidently superficial; his eyes could find no place of rest; he stared, winked, looked at the floor, then at the ceiling, then at the Counsel for the Prosecution, and changed his attitude every minute, but never blushed. The first indictment was read, charging all the three prisoners at the bar with having been concerned in causing the death of John Smith, miller, &c., by drowning or other means.

To this all the prisoners pleaded "not guilty;" and

(1) Concluded from p. 372.

Crooks spoke in a tone of voice as firm and steady as that of his companions at the bar.

Sergeant Jackson was employed for the prosecution, and, amid profound stillness, opened the statement of the case.—

"I feel this to be a case," said he, "gentlemen of the jury, in which our respective duties, though very solemn and important, are also very clear-we have to attend to facts: I have to state them, as clearly as I can, and you have to consider them, and judge whether or not they leave room for any reasonable doubt of the guilt of the prisoners at the bar. Your most minute attention is required to every particular in the statement; and I doubt not that you will give it, as you feel your responsibility to the public, and to your own consciences. Without further preface, then, I proceed with the stateThe deceased, John Smith, into ment of the case. whose sudden disappearance and death we have to inquire, was a respectable man, esteemed by his neighbours, and having as few enemies as a man can hope to have, who is at all engaged in worldly business. His habits were remarkably regular, and among them was noticeable his attention to the old maxim of "early to bed and early to rise." It may be confidently stated that he did not return to his house at an unseasonably late hour half-a-dozen times in his life. It is important to notice a man's character and habits of life, when we are required to consider the circumstances of his disappearance. There are some men who can stay out all night without exciting any remarkable alarm or surprise, (a laugh,) but there are many witnesses to prove to you that the deceased, John Smith, of Fordingplace Mill, to notice all the circumstances of his disappearance, was never a man of that character. I shall now proceed before I make any remark upon the conduct of the prisoners at the bar. On the 7th day of November last, he left his house in company with his niece and housekeeper, Margaret Smith, to walk to the cottage of his tenant, Robert Wilkinson. This cottage is about half-a-mile distant from Fordingplace Mill. There are no intermediate houses; nor is there a path except between the two places just mentioned. The path runs along by the side of the mill-stream as far as the copse where the stream joins the river, and then turns up to Wilkinson's cottage. At the house of Wilkinson the deceased transacted his business in a cheerful and goodhumoured way, and having taken a little refreshment, departed to walk back to the mill with his niece. But he never reached his home! On the evening of the third day after this event, his body was found lying in the mill-stream, beside the copse just mentioned, livid and swollen, and with some marks of contusions on the face, apparently having been several days in the water.

must say a word with respect to the spot where the body was found. You must observe that the copse I have mentioned is situated between the path and the mill-stream, so that a person must go through the copse to get to the stream at that spot where the body was found. This spot is about a hundred yards' distance from the mill, and almost that distance from the plank across the mill-stream, over which the parties must pass. The stream at this place (by the copse, I mean,) is overshadowed with boughs, and, as no person has any business there, it is not remarkable that the body should lie undiscovered from Tuesday until Friday evening. The person who discovered it on the evening of the 10th of November last, is a man well known in the neighbourhood, and addicted to botany and other more peculiar studies, which accounts for his being in the fields so late.

And now I must turn to relate the conduct of other

persons relative to this matter; and, first, I must beg you to notice the conduct of the prisoner at the bar, most intimately connected with the deceased. We do not see facts fairly without a view of their antecedents and I feel it, therefore, my duty to state fully the relation in which the prisoner at the bar stood to the deceased before the night in question. The prisoner

much while she was in my house with him. They seemed good friends when they left. I saw nothing of John after that, until I saw his body in the mill-stream just by the copse."

When the examination of the witness had closed, Jonas Singleton was called for, and there was a murmur through the Court,-"The prophet! the wise man of Fordingplace!" as he appeared. Counsellor Atkinson immediately rose to object to the examination of this witness, on the ground of his mental incompetency; but this objection was overruled by Serjeant Jackson's assertion that there was no proof of such incompetency, and, accordingly, Singleton was examined. He gave a rational account of his discovery of the corpse, and was then cross-examined by Counsellor Atkinson, who handed to him a paper containing the "vision" which we have narrated.

Now, Sir, is that your handwriting?" "I believe it is."

"You there state, that on the night of the 12th of November last you saw the prisoners, Richard Bracewell and Margaret Smith near the copse so often mentioned in the Miller's field. Now, I ask you, did you see them bodily as you saw the corpse of the Miller in the stream on the evening of the 10th of November last?

"I saw them, as it were, in a vision," said Singleton. "And may I ask you, have you not often seen in your 'visions' people whose bodies were, at the same time, a hundred miles distant?"

"Yes; they come to me in visions." (A laugh.)

Very well; and have you not seen people walking and heard them talking who had been buried for some years?" 'I, perhaps, have; but I forget many things." "You have seen King George, I believe, in the Miller's field aforesaid?"

Serjeant Jackson objected to this leading question. "I must persist," said Counsellor Atkinson, "in showing the Court the general incapacity of the witness to give sound evidence in any case; and for this purpose I claim permission to read over some papers which I hold in my hand, and which are all in the handwriting of the witness, Jonas Singleton, as he will allow." The counsellor here handed the papers to Singleton, who looked over them, and confessed that they were all in his handwriting.

"My lord," said the counsel for the defence, turning to the judge, "you must have patience with me for reading these strange papers, as I shall, afterwards, show that they bear very seriously upon the case." He then read the following papers :—

are the

"Of such materials," said the counsellor, rest of these papers composed; and I leave it to the jury to consider what attention should be paid to the statements of the witness who wrote them."

Robert Walker, surgeon, was next examined,--and stated as follows:

"I saw the body of the deceased, John Smith, on the eleventh of November, but did not open it. I cannot say there were marks from blows upon the head or face. The skin was discoloured; but it might be the effect of immersion in water. The body had evidently been in the water a considerable time. I should say as long as two or three days."

Thus ended the statements for the prosecution; and when Counsellor Atkinson, a rising young man, stood up to begin the defence, there was great excitement, especially among the ladies in the court. Margaret now raised her head and looked at the young counsellor with some expression of hopefulness in her countenance, as he began to speak.

"It is hard to conceive," said he, "of two persons placed in a situation more interesting and awful than that of the two individuals at the bar. But I must also remind you, gentlemen of the jury, that if there ever was a case when you needed to feel the weightiest responsibility, and to exercise the utmost caution in estimating the true import of the facts laid before you, it is now. Two persons in the bloom of life stand before you, and in such circumstances, that it rests with your verdict either to restore them to life, and the prospect of happiness, or to consign them to an early and dishonourable grave. Dreadful would be the mistake caused by presumption, were a court of justice, summoned to protect society from convicted offenders against human rights and interests, to warrant the execution of two unoffending persons, and thus deprive, for ever, human society of two worthy members! To guard against such a fearful and irreparable injury, our law has wisely determined that, where there is doubt left by the evidence of a case, the prisoner shall have the benefit of the doubt. Gentlemen of the jury, before I proceed to examine the real value of the statement made by the learned Serjeant for the prosecution, I must most earnestly protest against a remark which fell, I would hope, unadvisedly, from his lips. You have to consider,' said the learned Serjeant, how you can best account for these facts by the rules of rational probability.' I deny the principle altogether. It has no right to be harboured for a moment in a court of justice. No, no! gentlemen, you have not to account for the facts stated. You are not, as it has been insinuated, driven to the dilemma of either convicting the prisoners at the bar, or else giving some more rational account of the disappearance of the deceased. You have only to determine whether the evidence laid before you contains clear and indubitable proof of the guilt of the prisoners.

September 3d.-Moon's second quarter-likely to have much rain. I was in the Brigg Close near the river-much colt's-foot grows about here-face due north -very cloudy sky. I saw a man like little Wiggins the quack doctor coming over the field; and, now and then, he stooped down and gathered up something-herbs "Gentlemen, the Counsel for the prosecution travelled very likely. When he came to me he said, 'There is a herb of rare virtues in this field that you know nothing back, I think unnecessarily, to state particulars respecting of.' I asked him if he would tell me what it was. He the parties at the bar which are irrelevant to the case; said he would if I would promise him only one thing. and he has thus compelled me to travel a little further I asked him what that was. 'It is,' said he, that you still, and to estimate the real value of the particulars will never pay any more attentions to Margaret.' I said, thus stated, in the light of the characters of the parties 'No-vanished!" (Great laughter in the court.) concerned. I can conceive no worse state of society than one in which the testimony of general character is distrusted or easily thrown aside, on account of a few unfavourable appearances. Why, the best man among us, judged in this fashion, would not be safe. I say the best man living may be in the midst of circumstances that might tell against him, if his general character were never taken into account. A hundred little things unnoticed every day would swell into importance, when a criminal charge was preferred. What is the value of the particulars stated? These young persons wished to marry, and the deceased, it appears, was opposed to the match. Well; what of that? Such circumstances are found in hundreds of households in this country, and yet murder is not likely to be the result. There may,

At the mention of her name, Margaret blushed; but seemed to have some difficulty in suppressing a smile. Young Bracewell smiled openly as the paper was read. The counsellor then took up another paper and read :'September 7.-I was in the high-field,' about seven o'clock-heard the town-clock strike, and old Jemmy the sexton came to me and said, 'Some very great person is dead.' I asked him who? but he could not tell me the name. Then I saw Will Crooks and two boys getting through a hedge; and Susan Holmes came up and said some hens had been stolen from the Mill, and her mistress was very mad about them.-Vanished! then I saw, down in the Miller's field, Richard Bracewell walking very fast to the Mill.-Vanished!"