capability of comprehension. Men of considerable powers seem occasionally to be so deficient in this quality as to fall into whimsical mistakes and obvious follies; because, in fact, they frequently look on things with a laziness of attention which is easily foiled by the slightest difficulty, till some powerful motive concentrates the force of their faculties, and then they see the subject, whatever it may be, with almost preter-natural distinctness.

Owing to a similar habitual deficiency of tone in the mind, a similar depression of the feelings, if I may so express it, below the point of action, I have known men full of indecision and procrastination in small affairs, while they have been prompt and determined in business of importance. It would appear as if a certain force of motive must be created before they can act. Sometimes this seems to be effected by one great object, sometimes by the gradual accumulation into a mass of many petty motives, as when a multiplicity of unimportant procrastinations have created an uneasiness, which can be appeased only by a vigorous exertion to sweep off the whole arrear at a blow. Such men are indecisive and di

latory in the detail of their lives, known, perhaps, to themselves alone; but as this defect in their mental constitution rectifies itself when it has reached a certain height, they appear, in the results visible to the eyes of the world, as decided and punctual characters.

It is an analogous fact, that many practised writers, in both prose and poetry, are usually in their feelings below the writing point, and require to be raised by a little extraordinary excitement before they can succeed in producing any thing of value. For this purpose some have recourse to music, some to the works of a favourite author, and others wait with patience till the movements of their own minds have spontaneously brought round the fit.

It was this that Lord Byron meant when he said, in one of his letters, that "A man's poetry is a distinct faculty or soul, and has no more to do with the every day individual, than the inspiration with the Pythoness when removed from her tripod ;" and again, in another place, “I can never get people to understand that poetry is the expression of excited passion, and that there is no such thing

as a life of passion any more than a continuous earthquake or an eternal fever.”

There are men, however, who are fortunate enough to be always at the writing point; who can sit down any day, and at any hour, in the enviable certainty of producing a composition equal to any of their antecedent achievements. I suspect that in such cases the product (if in verse, at least) must be referred to that celebrated class of writings, the producers of which, according to Horace, are tolerated by neither gods nor men:

Non Dii, non homines, non concessere columnæ."

I had written thus far, when, happening to look into Warner's Literary Recollections, I found a passage so strikingly illustrative of some of the preceding observations, that I cannot refrain from introducing it to your acquaintance. Speaking of a Captain Rogers, of the Royal Navy, the author says:

"The cast of Rogers's character was of a curious description. When not under excitement—or rather, when not engaged in his pro

fession-there was a languor about him, which might be mistaken either for apathy or affectation; and they who knew him not, would have supposed that he had adopted the vacuity of Meadows in Cecilia, and the delicacy of Lord Ogilby in the Clandestine Marriage, as the best models of imitation in general carriage. But nothing could be more false than such an estimate as this. It was merely the stillness of a spirit that required a stimulus for its development. The instant this was applied, torpor vanished; indifference disappeared; "the frame of adamant and soul of fire" stood confessed in all their splendour: and vigour of intellect; solidity of judgment; wisdom in devising means; and the most desperate daring in effecting results, characterised the mind and actions of this extraordinary man."

For an interesting account of his exploits, perfectly consonant with the high character here given of him, I must refer you to the work which has supplied me with this happy illustration.

Farewell.

F. R.

LETTER XXIII.

Tendency in Mankind to exaggerate the Unknown-Exemplified in those whom English Reserve keeps at a distance from each other-An Anecdote in Illustration.

MY DEAR FRIEND,

It is a remark of some philosopher (perhaps Locke), that when people of opposite sentiments candidly compare their opinions, they find the difference between them much less than they had apprehended. The fact in such cases is, that the opposite parties unconsciously exaggerate the points of disagreement, and the discrepancy actually existing sinks on inquiry to even less than its real dimensions. It is one of the many illustrations furnished by human life of the proverbial truth, "omne ignotum pro magnifico." The unknown, or the partially known, is always a field for the