In fine, if be not one of those whom the French would call un mauvais buffon; one that is so much a well willer to the Satire, that he spares no man: and though he cannot strike a blow to hurt any, yet ought to be punished for the malice of the action; as our witches are justly hanged, because they think themselves so, and suffer deservedly for believing they did mischief, because they meant it.

The fire bust out as she clared the bar, And burnt a hole in the night, And quick as a flash she turned, and made For that willer-bank on the right.

The other, from without, was the spiritual ferment of the age, the multiplication of strange sects,Quakers, Free-Willers, Ranters, Anabaptists, Millenarians,and the untempered zeal of all classes, like an engine without a balance wheel, when men were breaking away from authority and setting up their own religious standards.

He is the first tincture and rudiment of a writer, dipped as yet in the preparative blue, like an almanac well-willer.

A VIRTUOSO Is a well-willer to the mathematics; he pursues knowledge rather out of humour than ingenuity, and endeavours rather to seem than to be.

When I was ready to proceed down the Ohio, I went to the shore, where I met a Mr. Willers, who had come there on the same errand as myself.

Mr. Willers lent a ready hand at the oars and tiller by turns.

He call a slave boy and tell him cut ten willer whips; he gwine wear every one out on me.

Mistrust thy own strength, and throw it away; down on thy knees in prayer to the Lord for the spirit of truth; search His word for direction; flee seducers' company; keep company with the soundest Christians, that have most experience of Christ; and be sure thou have a care of Quakers, Ranters, Free-willers: also do not have too much company with some Anabaptists, tho I go under that name myself.

"Eber sence den," said Julius in conclusion, "Chloe's ha'nt comes eve'y ebenin' en sets down unner dat willer-tree en waits fer Jeff, er e'se walks up en down de road yander, lookin' en lookin', en waitin' en waitin', fer her sweethea't w'at ain' neber, neber come back ter

A DEATH SONG Lay me down beneaf de willers in de grass, Whah de branch'll go a-singin' as it pass An' w'en I's a-layin' low, I kin hyeah it as it go Singin', "Sleep, my honey, tek yo' res' at las'.

The first stanza was, if I remember it rightly, something of this sort: "A angel come inter the poar trapper's door, The purty feet tromped on the rough puncheon floor, Her lovely head slep' on his prairie-grass piller The cabin is lonesome and the trapper is poar, He hears little shoes a-pattin' the floor; He can't sleep at night on that piller no more; His Hoosier harp hangs on the wild water-willer!