Then did she sing as one that thought no man could her

reprove,

"The falling out of faithful friends renewing is of love.'

She said she saw no fish nor fowl, nor beast within her

haunt,

That met a stranger in their kind, but could give it a

taunt;

Since flesh might not endure, but rest must wrath suc

ceed,

And force who fight to fall to play, in pasture where they

feed;

So noble Nature can well end the works she hath begun, And bridle well that will not cease her tragedy in some. Thus in her song she oft rehearst, as did her well behove, "The falling out of faithful friends renewing is of love.'

'I marvel much, pardie,' quoth she, for to behold the

rout,

To see man, woman, boy, and beast, to toss the world

about;

Some kneel, some crouch, some beck, some check, and some can smoothly smile,

And some embrace others in arm, and there think many

a wile;

Some stand aloof at cap and knee, some humble and

some stout,

Yet they are never friend indeed, until they once fall out.' Thus ended she her song, and said, before she did

remove,

The falling out of faithful friends renewing is of love.'”

MILTON'S "PARADISE LOST."

MILTON, who did not begin writing his "Paradise Lost" until he was forty-seven, sold it for five pounds to Samuel Simmons, April 27, 1667. In two years more, he had five pounds for the second edition. In 1680, Mrs. Milton sold all her right for eight pounds. Simmons then sold the copyright for twenty-five pounds. This was the book, too, that Milton had great difficulty in getting licensed; whereas, afterwards, the editors of that great poet, Dr. Bentley, got one hundred guineas for his edition; and Dr. Newton no less than six hundred and thirty pounds for the "Paradise Lost," and one hundred and five pounds for the " Regained."

It was an extraordinary misjudgment of the celebrated Waller, who speaks thus of the first appearance of "Paradise Lost:' -"The old blind schoolmaster, John Milton, hath published a tedious poem on the Fall of Man: if its length be not considered as merit, it has no other."Poor Milton was obliged to keep school for his livelihood.

Dr. Johnson, in his "Life of Milton," describing the school once kept by this author,

has the following paragraph: "Of institutions we may judge by their effects. From this wonder-working academy, I do not know that there ever proceeded any man very eminent for knowledge: its only genuine product, I believe, is a small History of Poetry, written in Latin by his nephew, of which, perhaps, none of my readers have ever heard."

We e may be sure that Dr. Johnson had, never seen the book he speaks of; for it is entirely composed in English, though its title begins with two Latin words, viz. "Theatrum Poetarum ; or, a Complete Collection of the Poets, &c." a circumstance that probably misled the biographer of Milton.

HARTE, AND DR. JOHNSON.

WALTER HARTE, the Poet and Historian, was one of Dr. Johnson's earliest admirers.---Johnson's "Life of Savage" was published in 1744: soon after which, Harte, dining with Mr. Cave, the projector of "The Gentleman's Magazine," at St. John's Gate, took occasion to speak very handsomely of the work, which was anonymous. Cave, the next time they met, told Harte that he made a man very happy the other

VOL. III.

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day at his house, by the encomiums he bestowed on the author of Savage's "Life." "How could that be?" said Harte; "none were present but you and I." Cave replied, "You might have observed, I sent a plate of victuals behind the screen: there skulked the biographer, one Johnson, whose dress was so shabby, that he durst not make his appearance. He overheard our conversation; and your applauding his performance delighted him exceedingly."

runner.

KHEMNITZER.

IVAN IVANOVICh Khemnitzer, a celebrated Russian Fabulist, may be compared, in many respects, to La Fontaine, his pattern and foreThe same goodness of heart, the same blind confidence in his friends, the same carelessness and inoffensiveness, and the same absence of mind, which formed the prominent features of La Fontaine's character, were developed with singular fidelity in that of Khemnitzer. Of the last trait we will give an example or two. When in Paris, he once went to see the representation of "Tancred." On Le Kain's appearance, he was so struck with the noble and majestic presence of that renowned actor, that

he rose from his seat and bowed with lowly reverence. An universal roar of laughter brought him back to himself. One morning, a friend, for whom he had the highest regard, related to him an interesting piece of news. Khemnitzer dined with him afterwards, and, as a piece of remarkable intelligence, narrated to his host that which his host had before communicated to him. His friend reminded him of his forgetfulness. Khemnitzer was greatly distressed, and in his perplexity, instead of his handkerchief, he put his host's napkin into his pocket. On rising from table, Khemnitzer endeavoured to slip away unobserved; his friend saw him, followed him, and tried to detain him. Khemnitzer reproached him for unveiling his weaknesses, and would not listen to any entreaties. "Leave my napkin, then, at least, which you pocketed at table," said the other. Khemnitzer drew it forth, and stood like a statue. The loud laugh of the company recovered him from his trance, and with the utmost good nature he joined in the general mirth.

The following elegant version of one of his Fables is extracted from Mr. Bowring's de