THE DESOLATION OF ST. MINVER.
BY JOHN LUSCOMBE.

fears which seem engrafted in our nature, or
attempt to analyze those presentiments of evil,
which assail us during our lives; even in child-
hood, when the mind is too unformed for re-
flection, dark forebodings come over us, and
destroy our mirth, and make us wonder why,
or what we dread; and in after years, when
reason asserts her sway, we are often agitated
by terrors, the cause of which we uselessly seek
to discover.

It was one of those evenings when the heavens are so serene, and the ocean so tranquil, that men wonder how clouds can ever darken the one, or storms agitate the other. Many of the inhabitants of the little hamlet that was situated on the verge of the parish of St. Minver, were sitting at their doors, or else prepar ing their fishing-nets for the morrow; before The childhood of Agnes hath passed away them stretched the sea, unruffled, and glowing in sunshine, mingled with those slight temwith the thousand varied hues of sunset; but pests which we have all experienced and can the view at the back of the village was dreary now smile at; she was taller than many of her and cheerless, a long, narrow valley of sand age, and vanity justly whispered that she was gradually ascended, until it joined a chain of prettier than any; but her grandmother had barren hills, on which the eye in vain looked instructed her too well to allow self-esteem to for verdure. Here and there among the sand- find a resting-place in her heart,-her lessons banks rose the fragment of a wall, or a pointed being in direct opposition; they were lessons gable, which evidently showed that buildings of true piety and virtue, drawn from that book, once occupied the spot. Indeed the tales of whose doctrine can alone subdue our natural their forefathers, which had descended from passions and inclinations, and render us fit for one generation or another, described the place heaven. But this was not so easy a task as it as the site of a populous town, which, in the ought to be in the present day, the instruction course of time, had been overwhelmed with being only given on the Sabbath; for at the light sand, accumulated by the tempests of the time to which our story alludes, none of the sea, and borne inland by the winter storms. peasantry of England could read, therefore it Affection for their birth-place, or some other required a retentive memory to allow of that feeling which prompts us to cling to our homes, benefit arising from the Sunday's worship, even amid their desolation and decay, still pre- which ought to attend it now. Maud Heath vented the inhabitants of the hamlet from was, however, a devout hearer of the divine quitting it; yet within their recollection the truths, and though not in the exact words of sand had visibly increased, many a little scripture, she planted in the heart of her grandpatch of garden was now rendered unfit for child its substance, in the shape of conversacultivation, and where the ground before theirtions, during the week, when fresh draughts of doors had been smooth and level, sand-heaps living water were vouchsafed to her. had formed, which often required much labour

to remove.

"Grandmother," said Agnes Heath, to an old woman who sat, with her distaff in her hand, in the porch of her cottage," Grandmother, why do you not go away from this place, and live in some pleasanter spot; the neighbours say that there is danger here, and that we may be buried, like those who have dwelt here before us, during one of the winter storms?""That will not happen in my time," replied the old woman; "when I am dead, Agnes, you may go away, and live where there is no danger. I shall never quit St. Minver, for I love it. Here were my parents born, here I first drew my breath; at yon church," she continued, pointing in the direction of a grey tower, at the extremity of the plain, I married, there was my husband buried, and when I am laid by his side, Agnes, you may choose a pleasanter home."

was

Agnes had in vain sought to banish from her mind the recollection of her former home; but in spite of her caution, she would involuntarily in the summer, contrast the valley of her birth, its soft turf, and the shade of its lofty trees, with the hot, wearisome sand, and intense heat of her present residence;-in winter the roar of the sea would remind her of the troubled stream that rushed through it, yet it was lovelier far to see the waters dash from rock to rock, forming pools and eddies beneath the aged alders that fringed its banks. Vain too were her efforts to subdue the fears, which the increase of the sand made in her heart; though the danger came slowly and noiselessly, nevertheless it did come, and it was with dread unfeigned, that she beheld, during every storm, the minute particles of gravel carried forwards and deposited around the houses. Many smiled at her terror, though they had planted it in her breast by the stories they had told her; but they were aged persons, who having passed the greater part of their lives without expe

her knees, and her gaze wandered over the ocean, as if she sought in vain for the wonted satisfaction its music gave her;-yet she lacked not pleasant feelings altogether, for when her firm and blooming grandchild would smooth the pillows that supported her, or adjust the folds of the cloak that was wrapped around her, her dim and sunken eyes would rest fondly on her, and her withered lip murmur blessings. But Agnes felt even in this affliction, that she had cause for thankfulness, as her parent's sufferings were slight, and proceeded more from a gradual decay of nature than disease:-thus it is that the true believer sees the hand of mercy in every dispensation.

Persons resident in an inland county can have little idea of the horrors of a storm on the sea coast; even those who are accustomed to them, can never experience a south-west gale, during the continuance of which more devastation is committed than when blowing from any other quarter, without dread.

As the winter advanced, the weakness of Maud Heath rapidly increased, until she became unable to quit her bed; but the assiduous attentions of Agnes rendered her hours, which would otherwise have been dreary in deed, periods of joy and happiness. Then it was that she felt the truth of scripture, which says cast your bread upon the waters, and you shall find it after many days;" for, when memory failed her, Agnes would repeat the hymns and prayers she had learnt in childhood, and thus pour balm into her drooping spirit.

There were, however, times when the heart of Agnes felt desolate and heavy; during the long, dreary hours of the night, as she watched beside the bed of her grandmother, whose feeble pulse and faintly-drawn breath scarcely intimated that she existed, tears of sorrow would involuntarily burst from the eyes of the forlorn girl;-the solitary lamp, whose sickly light flickered on the walls of the room, and the ceaseless roar of the waves on the shore, conspired to increase her agitation,-for, spite of our reason, we are not proof against these weaknesses. The recollection too of the frightful legends, which, in her childhood, she had heard when lingering around the hearth of the fisherman, of the villagers who had perished during one of the winter storms, and experienced a death at which human nature shudders, would add to her dismay; and every gust of wind that whirled the sand against the casement, would cause her to start and tremble, till, like a frightened bird, she would crouch beside the bed, and bend her ear to her grandmother's head to listen if she were blessed with the companionship of a living creature. NoThe hamlet being situated on the beach was But the terrors of Agnes were not unfound- exposed to the full force of the tempests; and ed; she had observed during the days of her many of the cottages being composed of mudchildhood, that the mimic houses, she had as- walls, with beams of oak crossed to support sisted her companions to build many yards in them, were often either damaged or totally unthe rear of the hamlet, were, in the space of roofed. That occupied by Agnes and her granda few weeks buried beneath the sand;-she mother experienced a temporary protection even fancied that she could discover an addi- during the period of the south-west winds; a tion to the size of the banks that filled the dis-high rock rising beside it, which served in some tant parts of the valley; and the dread that ere the work of desolation was complete, she should be a victim, rendered her a prey to anxiety and dark forebodings.

The heart of the child was like that of the young bird when first it quits its nest, and like it she longed to flee away, and seek for bright-riencing any calamity, saw no cause for appre-vember, with its attendant storms, arrived.

er spots and distant climes, for the sombre aspect of the country around depressed her spirit; and the frightful stories, which the neighbours told of those who had found a grave beneath the sand-banks, she daily played on, rendered her timid and fearful. She had, until the death of her parents, lived in a pleasant valley, far away from the sea and its wild coast; and the change which had taken place robbed her of her former glee, and made her early known to care and anxiety. But it had not robbed her heart of its tenderness and affection, for she presently twined her arms round her grandmother's neck, and whispered, "You are not angry with me, mother? If you wish it, I will never leave thee, not even when you are dead."

"Angry with thee, my child!" replied the old woman," angry with thee, niy pretty dove! alas! I must have a hard heart if I were angry with thee. No, Agnes, I blame thee not for speaking as you did, you cannot look on this spot as I look on it, for the feelings of childhood are far different from those of age;-but see, there are your companions," and she pointed to a party of children who were playing at the edge of the water, "you may join them," and the little girl kissed her, and ran towards

them.

In vain do we endeavour to account for those

|

hension.

measure to screen it from the violence of the hurricane.

Fearful were the sounds that assailed the ears of Agnes during the watches of the night; Time passed away unmarked by any pecu-her cheek would pale as the booming gun liar event, until Agnes attained her eighteenth was fired at intervals, and the last despairing year; but it was with sorrow she observed that shriek of the sinking mariner was borne on the the health of her venerated parent became im- wind. To many, alas! these indications of a paired, and her form slowly wasted, as the wreck would bring feelings of satisfaction, and months rolled on. Summer brought no return various are the tales that are told of the revolt. of strength, and with difficulty, assisted by hering acts committed by the Cornish fishermen, grandchild, she could move to the bench in the porch. It was a mournful sight to behold the changed appearance of Maud Heath;-formerly she sat listening to the pleasant ripple of the sea, with her distaff in her hand, either conversing with Agnes, or singing those old ballads which commemorated the valiant deeds of King Arthur and his knights, a smile ever upon her lips and a kind glance in her eye; now, her long shrivelled arms rested idly on

when a ship would unhappily be cast upon their coast. At the termination of the storm, the united exertions of the villagers were required to move aside the ridges of sand that had been thrown by the wind and sea against their cottages; around Maud Heath's residence it was readily cleared, for all loved the aged woman, yet many whispered that the youths of the hamlet laboured more for the esteem of the grandchild than her parent. Perhaps this was

true, for the attentions of Philip, her neighbour's son, had inspired Agnes with a regard, which, though she felt, she buried in the recesses of her heart; duty requiring that whilst her grandmother lived, no other object should share her affections.

The day had been immensely tempestuous; -as far as the eye could reach, the ocean was crested with foam, and the wild surge that was thrown high upon the shore, threatened to destroy every thing that opposed its rage. Many times during the flow of the tide the waves would rush to the threshold of the cottage doors, and after depositing the sand and gravel which was borne before them, retire with a sullen growl, as if they mourned that their power was circumscribed.

The sun had shone pleasantly during the morning, but towards evening, dark clouds obscured the sky, and seemed ominous of increasing violence; at times a faint flash of lightning would dart from the heavy masses, and play over the scene, but in the roar of the sea, the mutterings of the thunder were unheard. For many months the faculties of her grandmother had not been so clear, or unimpaired, as during the progress of the storm, and the heart of Agnes proportionately lightened, as she listened to the mild conversation of the old woman. On one subject alone she dwelt, the near approach of eternity, and the firm reliance she placed on the merits of the Saviour, enabled her to reflect on death without trembling.

As the night advanced, Agnes was summoned from the sick woman's room; she found Philip in the kitchen, he had been employed in securing the fishing boats and other property of the villagers, and had called to know if he could render her any assistance. His dress was soaked with wet, and the salt water dropped in pools from his hair on the floor. "Shall I send my mother to you," he said, "she will take your place in watching during the night. You require rest Agnes,-your cheek is pale, and your eyes have lost their lustre;" but the voice of her grandmother was that moment heard calling her, and thanking him for his kindness, which she declined, she again mounted the stairs. The strength of Maud Heath seemed to have returned with her reason, and after sitting erect in the bed for nearly an hour, without the supporting arm of Agnes, she sunk into a calm slumber.

As she stood at the casement, endeavouring
to pierce the thick blackness before her, her
grandmother suddenly awoke. "Is it morn-
ing, Agnes?" she asked; "methinks it has
been a long night. It must be morning," she
added presently after;" open the casement
my child, and see if there be not lights in
some of the fishermen's cottages, doubtless
there must be some astir."

Agnes did as she was bidden-she drew
back the bolts which fastened the window, and
endeavoured to push
open; but in vain she
used every effort, some hidden cause prevent-
ed the movement of the hinges, until having
exhausted her strength, she receded a few
paces, perplexed and amazed.

"At that moment a sudden thought flashed
through her mind. "The sand-the sand!"
she shrieked; "too surely we are buried be-
neath the sand!" She rushed wildly to the
chimney, before which was placed a broad and
rudely carved plank, to prevent the draught of
air, and tore it desperately aside. As if to
confirm her fears, a flood of light passed through
the opening, which showed that the roof of the
cottage still remained uncovered, though the
sand had, indeed, been thrown in such vast
particles around it during the night, that no-
thing was visible on the shore but its tiles and
chimneys. " My fears are not groundless,"
muttered Agnes slowly, as she staggered back
and sunk on a chair; "I foreboded this, yet 1
hoped-oh! it is fearful to be encompassed by
death in such a hideous form-1 dreaded it
from childhood, yet I hoped to have been
spared it."

"And hope still, Agnes," said her grandmother; her dim eyes, over which a film appeared to have spread, wandering round the room, as if she scarcely comprehended the extent of the danger; "why should you not hope? you will be saved, I know it. All will come to your assistance, and you will be saved our friends will not leave you to perish."

tures; little beauty was discernible in her countenance, so suddenly had it become worn and haggard.

A change presently came over her; the gay feeling of her heart departed, and a burning heat reigned instead. She shrieked wildly and nadly, and laughed in the delirium of her despair, as she fled from the room vainly seeking to escape. As she unclosed the cottage door, the sand which filled the porch, fell rapidly into the kitchen, and with a frightful yell, she again mounted the stairs, as if her enemy was in pursuit. This paroxysm of agony soon forsook her, but it was succeeded by a fit of despondency and bitterness. She paced to and fro in the chamber, at times pausing beneath the chimney, where she could behold the clear blue sky, and the sea-gull which flew in circles high above her. Then would she again retire, and place her hands before her eyes, endeavouring to prevent their being mocked with a sight of light and freedom.

Many hours she passed in this mannerhours of the most acute misery, when suddenly a sound of many voices smote on her ear; a sensation of joy thrilled through her frame, as she distinctly heard her name called by some one at the top of the chimney; she strove to rise and answer, but her lips uttered nothing save a cry, mingled with a faint hysterical laugh-the struggle of revived hope over despair had overcome her. Though again and again her name was loudly shouted, and a rope was thrown into the room, Agnes remained powerless on her chair, even with the means of escape before her. Faint and trembling she watched the rope again withdrawn, but immediately after she heard the sound as if a heavy body were descending; she was not deceived, for presently Philip himself stood in the room. She could only stretch out her arms towards him with imploring gestures; he beheld her agony with amazement" And did you quite despair?" he said reproachfully; "were you not assured that I would come to your assistance, even though I perished in my attempt to save you? You have not trusted me as I deserve," he added, as he bore her in his arms to the chimney, and bound the rope around her waist, and called to those above to be careful in drawing it up.

But in vain were words of comfort lavished on the horror-stricken girl; the idea of a lin- In after years, when Agnes Heath was com gering death by famine rendered her insensi- fortably settled on a less dangerous part of the ble to them. In what respect does our case coast, and become the mother of happy chil differ from that of those who have perished in dren, she would relate to her group of anxious like manner?" she replied bitterly; " doubtless listeners the account of her escape from peril; they too hoped for succour, yet none ever es- concluding her simple narrative by cautioning caped to tell the tale of wo. Oh! I have sin-them not to give way to fears and dark forened grievously-my life has been one long continued sin, but I hoped for mercy both here and hereafter."

bodings as she had done. "For the arm of the Almighty is stretched out to save all those who put their trust in Him," she said; "I was sunk in the lowest pit of despair, yet His merciful eye was on me. In my agony I cried that there was no hope left, yet did not he forsake me; and though I provoked Him to anger by my want of faith, yet he delivered me from danger, and has shown me the sin of not relying solely on him in the hour of calamity and danger."

Agnes had never before marked the feeble glimmer of the lamp of life,-she had never watched its flickerings, and its uncertain burnings, ere it expires, or she would have known that the return of vigour was the signal of her parent's dissolution. With feelings of inexpressible gratitude, she trimmed her lamp, and endeavoured to beguile the time in the employment of her needle, vainly seeking to close her ears against the furious sounds without; but amid all the din of the warring elements, the horrible patter of the sand against the win dow, was distinctly heard, and fell with a mingled feeling of fear and horror upon her heart. She worked for many hours, during which time her grandmother slept soundly, apparentNote.-The incident on which this tale is ly undisturbed by the awful war of the windspair, and I-I, Agnes, pray thee to hope still;" founded, is mentioned in " Gilbert's Historical and sea. At times Agnes started from her as she pronounced the last words, which were Survey of Cornwall;" in speaking of it, he chair, for she fancied that the rock against nearly inaudible, the spirit of Maud Heath do-says-"This part of the parish of St. Minver, which the cottage rested visibly trembled, parted. again, as at intervals, the gale strengthened, that it would be totally destroyed:

The night, in spite of her occupation, wore slowly away, until wearied by the monotony of her task, and growing in some measure reconciled to the sound of the tempest, sleep insensibly stole over her, and as the needle dropped from her powerless hand, she sunk back on her seat in a sound slumber. Having rested but a short period for many nights, fatigue rendered her unconscious state of long duration. She awoke cold and shivering; the oil in the lamp was nearly consumed, and the high and black wick was surrounded by a faint flame, which every moment rose and fell, and leapt above it. Her first care was to feed the light and trim it; the

"And it will not be denied thee," returned the old woman, whose voice faltered at every word, and spoke plainly of the departure of life; it will not be denied thee my child, for thou hast been faithful over thy few things, and He has promised that all such shall be ruler over many things. He will repay thy filial piety-thy attention to one who has long been a burden to thee. He bids thee not de

The total suspension of every feeling save horror, prevented Agnes observing that her parent had expired. She sat with her cycs staring alternately at the chimney and darkened window, while she cried-"No, ro, it were vain to hope-it were a mockery to think of succour; we perish like those in former ages, who, buried far beneath the light of day, wasted and perished with no eye to mark their sufferings, no ear to hear their cries. No, no, hope is now a mockery."

Again she became silent-a stupor seemed to have chained her faculties, and an observer might have fancied that the hand of death was on her, but for the shudders that agitated her frame and the convulsed motion of her fea

according to a common tradition among the inhabitants, has undergone a change of an extraordinary nature, solely occasioned by the vast increase of sea-sand, which has blown over the country for the space of several miles. Under the principal sand hills, they inform you, a town formerly stood, which reached from Porthilly Church to that of St. Enedor, a distance of rather more than a mile. This account, which has been handed down from remote times, was in some measure confirmed in 1778, when, in consequence of the drifting of the sands, a chapel and burial ground were discovered and exposed to view. There were also found a number of human bones, spoons, rings, and utensils. Also a quantity of coins of various reigns, particularly from Henry I.

to Elizabeth. St. Enedor Chapel is a solitary object within this sandy desert, and of which little is perceived more than its venerable spire. The sands rise on every side above the level of its roof, and a pathway is formed around it annually, in order that the minister may perform the accustomed service, and thus preserve its rights and fees."

THE TINGE WHICH TEMPER GIVES TO CHARAC-
TER, ILLUSTRATED BY EXAMPLE.
To the Editor.

little on this important subject, but is evidently in earnest. He hallows the Sabbath, and constantly attends public worship with his family. All these bright excellences in my worthy master are sadly tarnished by an unhappy temper. I wish to tell the truth without fear or disguise. Mr. Crab is irritable, impatient, and suspicious. A small matter kindles his anger, which he betrays by every feature of the countenance, and every accent of the voice. This irascibility often renders him precipitate both in his words and deeds. If an order has not been executed, or an account settled, at the time prescribed and fixed, he at once breaks As you wish your work, like a faithful mirout into the language of censure and rebuke, ror, to reflect the spirit and manners of the without waiting to ascertain whether the failage, I presume you are candid enough to re- ure be attributable to accident or intention. I ceive communications from all classes of so- know the proverb says "An angry man that ciety. There is a proverb, "that by others suppresses his passion, thinks worse than he faults wise men will correct their own." If speaks; and an angry man that chides, speaks this old adage is duly applied, the following worse than he thinks." There is some truth account may be of some use; and with that in this, and we need such moderating maxims object in view, you are at full liberty to pub- to prevent things being carried to extremities. lish it. For about ten years I have been em- Mr. Crab has repeatedly detected, in his serployed, as a clerk, in the counting-house of vants, those petty instances of selfishness and Mr. Crab, a wholesale dealer in the metropolis. fraud which are but too common; and now he My master is a native of the north of England, seems under the painful apprehension, that who coming up to London when a young man, every one is laying plans and devising means without either property or friends, had the to wrong him. I have often heard him say, good fortune to rise, step by step, from a por- that the world rapidly degenerates, and that ter's place, to the lot of affluence which he there is not, at this time, one truly honest man now holds. I have heard him repeatedly de- among a hundred. Suspicion in my master's tail the hardships and difficulties he had to en- mind is a plant of quick growth; while conficounter at his entrance into life, for he is not, dence rarely takes root, and when it does, is like some, ashamed of his humble origin. He soon loosened or withered by some sudden is a man of sound sense and discriminative gust. It is not uncommon to meet with perjudgment, of frugal and temperate habits, of sons, whose irascible passions require multiplain and unpolished manners. His know- plied and accumulated provocations to rouse ledge has been gathered more from observation them; but when once excited, they burst into than books, and his opinions on every subject a tremendous explosion. Hence it has been are always given with an ingenuous and manly observed in reference to individuals of this freedom. He has many other solid, good qua- cast, that a good quarrel clears the air like a lities, which, in making an impartial estimate, thunder storm; the electric fluid being spent, ought neither to be overlooked nor underva- and the clouds dispersed, all is again sunshine lued. Some of these I shall specify, though and serenity. Mr. Crab's mental temperament only in a brief and passing manner. In the is nothing of this kind; his anger never slowly first place, he is rigidly just and honest in all condenses, and, at last, explodes with violence. his dealings. I believe no one had ever any A sort of fretful anxiety corrodes his mind; he ground to lay to his charge a single deviation sees the dark and disastrous side of every thing. from truth and integrity. Even in transac As respects future events, his fears outnumber tions where his own interests might be ad- and overbalance his hopes. Hence an habitual vanced at the expense of government, he has solicitude almost incessantly agitates the curbeen firm in resisting temptation to all the rent of thought, and the train of feeling. It petty arts of defrauding the revenue; and this is this anxiety, blended with a tendency to is the more remarkable, as such practices are anger, which subjects him to so much uneasiknown to be very prevalent in the trade which ness from causes comparatively slight and trihe carries on; and his views and political opi- vial. I am aware, that whatever elements of nions are not usually in accordance with the irascible passion are in the natural constitution, measures of state. I may also confidently af their excitement and predominance will greatly firm, that my master is a generous and bene- depend on circumstances. It is proper then volent man. It is true, indeed, that as he rose here to say, that Mr. Crab, besides carrying on to wealth and consequence partly by diligence his own business with considerable success, in business, and partly by economy in some has speculated rather largely in the public minor matters, his habit of saving would seem funds. Some years ago, he realized about fifto indicate a narrow and covetous mind. Durteen thousand pounds by a few lucky strokes ing several years he supported his aged parents in this line. But he has of late been generally in plenty and peace, and has been a most mu- on the losing side, so that I have reason to benificent benefactor to all the poor branches of lieve he wishes he had never had any thing to the family. I know that he gives away a great do with Spanish Bonds, or with Peruvian and deal, not only to aid public institutions, but Columbian Stock. Every morning he is imalso to alleviate private distress. patient to see the newspaper, for the state of promptitude and liberality which do him cre- the money market regulates the mercury of dit, he has often lent a helping hand to embar- his mind. Even his lowest servants have rassed tradesmen, and though he has incurred learned to calculate the rise and fall of his spifrequent losses by this practice, he has not rits, according to the vicissitudes which elewholly suspended it. He keeps no expensive vate or depress the foreign funds. The irritacompany, and is utterly estranged from the ble temper of my master, to say the least, gay and dissipating amusements of the world. grievously impairs the domestic happiness enSome of his domestic arrangements may exhi-joyed under his roof. His amiable wife and bit an appearance of meanness, but those who are thoroughly acquainted with him, can make every candid allowance. Men," said Dr. Johnson, are to be estimated by the mass of character." A block of tin may have a grain of silver, but is still tin; and a block of silver may have an alloy of tin, but still it is silver. The mass of my master's character is benevolence; there is certainly a considerable portion of alloy. As regards the claims and duties of religion he is truly conscientious. Ho says

With a

sprightly children, find the cup of pleasure
dashed with daily drops of bitterness from this
source. Those who belong not to the domestic
circle, but are engaged in the business depart-
ment, while ready enough to acknowledge the
many bright virtues of their employer, are yet
often vexed and chagrined by the treatment
they meet from him. In the moment of dis-
pleasure he magnifies the least fault to a mon-
strous size, and paints every thing in the dark-
est colours. A mistake, or slight omission, is

swelled into a crime; a word or a look is construed as an insult. If any trifling pecuniary loss has been sustained, through the negligence of the porter, or the haste and mismanagement of the warehouseman, Mr. Crab exclaims "you will certainly ruin me." In these fits of irritation he often goes so far as to be placed under the necessity of treading back his steps. Where he has given needless pain a process of healing is to be devised; and those who are without cause offended he has the trouble to conciliate. Some of his most valuable servants have been warned to quit his employment, and before the sun went down requested by him to continue in their place.

Now as I am persuaded that my master is rendered unhappy in himself, and is the cause of much unhappiness to those around him, by the indulgence of a temper compounded of anger, impatience, and suspicion, and as there are doubtless many others subject to the same infirmity, could no counsels be suggested, no means recommended, capable of removing, or, at least, alleviating this source of misery? There is scarcely any inflammatory disorder of body, which skilful physicians have not contrived, by some salutary medicines, or cooling regimen, to allay: can nothing analogous be discovered to allay the feverish heats and perturbations of the soul? Will neither the sage precepts of Seneca nor Epictetus serve this important purpose? Then, with regard to anxiety, I should be glad to see it brought to a correct analysis. If speculating in the stocks be, as some assert, a species of gambling, 1 wish all the stocks were burnt down in one common fire, or swallowed up by an earthquake, or blown into the air like the famous South Sea bubble, rather than they should rob men of their peace and quiet. But in sober seriousness, as you, Mr. Editor, profess to prescribe for the mental maladies of mankind, I do earnestly entreat you to turn your attention to this case. A man of good principle and bad temper; a man who will give with cheerfulness sovereign after sovereign in charity, and fret and fume half a day for the loss of sixpence; a man who wins every one's esteem and no one's affection, seems a strange paradox. I know not that you have professed yourself of the school of perfectibility, but it is surely possible to find out and employ some means which may prove effectual in calming passion and curing care. I pretend not myself to have any skill of this kind; it is to your judgment and experience that I appeal. Let not all your time and talent be devoted to the culture of intellect and taste; the amelioration of temper is quite as important. I shall now wait with solicitude for the next number of your work, in which I hope to see something adapted to the case which I have here stated.

INFLUENTIAL WRITERS.

THE great disadvantage which attaches to diffuse composition, is its uncertainty and instability of effect. The passions may be momentarily excited, the fancy may be amused, but the judgment is not partially enlightened, and the memory is burdened with an "indi gesta moles" of ideas, which occupies the mind like so much dead stock, or mere verbal expressions in the place of original thoughts.

A diffuse writer leaves so little for his reader to do himself, that his ingenuity and reflective faculties are uncalled for. Every conclusion and deduction from a general principle is so thoroughly bared to his inspection, so ramified and wirespun, that all he has to do is to read on, and give a listless acquiescence, like a schoolboy whose sum is all done for him. In both cases the subject enforced loses one half of its just impression, because the hearer is completely passive. We are naturally more te nacious of that which is self-acquired. Hence it is that we remember more, and derive more permanent instruction, from those writers who abound in pithy sayings, striking remarks, and