astrologer, himself plague-smitten, is a fine conception, but, at this distance of time, we may be permitted to say, spoilt in the execution. He once a sailor on board the Thunderer!-we vow, he never was other than a pew-opener to an anabaptist conventicle.

We are now in the cathedral, with Frankfort's mistress Magdalene kneeling at the altar; there, with the act of prayer, disarming, murder lurking by, and redeeming madness and blasphemy itself to sanity and penitential mood. The picture would, however, have been better drawn, if instead of the new ceremonial forms, the desecration had proceeded more directly with the things signified. As it is, horror is excited at little cost of the essential poeticHorror! No; disgust, which makes one sickly, not sympathetic: so at this present time at least we think; but in 1816, Christopher North, any more than John Wilson, was not what both are now. Verily, there is growth in every genial mind; yet have we contemplated too much the minds of others, to grow so much as we should otherwise have grown oneself. We are deprived of our true stature by poring on books not written by our own fingers, and what we have written for the most part being written on them. We have criticised instead of creating. Poor Coleridge lamented the waste of genius that we were wantonly expending on columns of ebony. It is a black job, and we wear sable, here ;-impressing inky type on a fair page.

But the Plague-wronged are carousing, and we must partake the festival of the despairing. Sweet Mary Gray and bold Louisa, with the proof, that

"The violent

Are weaker than the mild, and abject fear
Dwells in the heart of passion-”

are all to our taste. Though we like not the da

capo of

As if there was no

Why should all the horrors be of this kind? deeper sin in the human soul than the desecration of the formal. See in Shelly's Cenci the intensest superstition for the ceremonial, consisting with the darkest eriminality. The entire history of the Church of Rome is one thousand-times-repeated commentary on this great truth. To return: a priest who was introduced at the close of the first act, becomes an agent in the second. He is nameless. The priest-an abstraction of his class-a type of his order in the ideal-but no man, that is, no individual man. Angel or phantom, however, he may be, and therefore comports well with the other no-characters of the poem. The City of the Plague, is the Metropolis of Shades-the Capitol of Dream-land.

The second and fourth scenes of the second act, the first between Isabel and Magdalene, and the other, of Frankfort the priest, and Wilmot in the chamber of death, are sweet pieces of extreme beauty and pathos. The third is a public street, with crowds discoursing on the phenomena of the time, human or natural, in vein of irony or more miserable seriousness. The sky, in particular to

them is an open book, written within and without with direful portents; and every star is as a cometary vengeance. Superstition has succeeded to blasphemy; notwithstanding one man proposes to rob a church. The Maniac's prophecy next succeeds; and then Magdalene, with a bible in her hand, induces repentance in the calmed minds of that despairing throng. The Churchyard scene, with the sexton and boy, reminds us, though perhaps not too favourably, of the grave digger in Hamlet; whether the preference ought to be given to John Wilson or William Shakspere, old Christopher North is not sufficiently presumptuous to decide. We were always remarkable for modesty.

The third act opens with a spirited recital by the priest to Wilmot, of the oncomings of the Plague-Frankfort then enters in the symptomatic madness of approaching pest. The sainted Magdalene is also smitten; but she perseveres in her constancy and resists her lover, and they die on the same bed together. No! Magdalene dies not, she only sleeps, and afterward pursues wildly Frankfort's corse to the grave; where she resigns her spirit to the Father of all such.

The poetry of John Wilson is that of a pleasing or painful state of the consciousness, as it is affected not with the experiences of the outward, but with the mutations of the inward. What mystery is this, that changes should thus be operated from within the human soul! Yet, perhaps, but for them, the external mutability were not either apparent or real. Real?-That is real which we translate from impression into sensation, ere which is done, the consciousness must seize hold upon it-nay, conscience herself must accept it as a thing identified with the being and intelligence of a recipient agent, so that she may swear by it, in her own secret court, and in the public forum.

66

Perhaps these alternations of feeling are better exhibited in the brief lyric, than in the narrative and dramatic forms. Wilson's lyrics are of great beauty-graceful and tender. Others are even sublime. Commend us to his "Address to a Wild Deer in the Forest of Dalness." But for its length we would most assuredly quote the whole. His small descriptive poems and ballads are of rare excellence; Wordsworthian in their tone of sentiment, with a dash of elegance, and an aim at diction to which the poet of " Peter Bell," and "The Wagoner," is proudly indifferent. Nevertheless, the poetry of Wilson is deformed by no unseemly affectations; no tricks of metre or of expression; no Cornwallisms; no Huntisms; no Cockneyisms of any sort. Bold and manly, with a rural, though not rustic air, the poet is shewn as equally untainted with the diseases, the affectations, and the vices of the city. The breezes by which he has been fanned have been airs from the open heaven. Every thing has an out-of-door aspect; all is athletic; the vigour and the freedom of the mountaineer is in every step-in every word. His whole manner is that of a freeman, free in thought, in word and deed. Liberty, and yet no licence, is the sole law of his movements; nevertheless it is a law, and recognises, both in itself and its objects, the presence and expediency of law, as the most

eligible and necessary companion of all its movements, and sole preserver of their freedom. If he transcends nature, it is but to breathe a spirit into her forms; if he prefer the vale, the cottage, and the village brook, to the crowded thoroughfare of humming cities, it is for the sake of manners and of morals, that society by the force of first principles, and the example of simple modes of life, may be purified in its conventional feelings, and strengthened in its nobler aspirations. Such is the character of John Wilson as a poet.

CICERO'S OPINION ON THE BALLOT.

THE opinion of Cicero on the Ballot has not yet been brought fairly before the British public. That opinion is in itself of very considerable weight, as it is the result of the experience of the mightiest politician, in the mightiest empire that has ever existed on earth. It is of more especial importance to our fellow-countrymen at present, because their minds are incessantly agitated by the question between the poll and the ballot. The evidence of Cicero on this subject, is the evidence of a perfectly fair and impartial witness, whose views were matured a couple of millenaries ago. He was free from the possibility of being biassed by the hallucinations of the sects and parties that convulse the British constitution. Let his testimony therefore be taken at its full value, as that of a just arbitrator, an unobjectionable umpire in this critical dispute. We shall not regret having produced it at this juncture, if it shall serve to philosophize and moderate the conflicting sentiments of the two antagonist parties; one of which considers ballot to be a panacea for national grievances, and the other, an insidious poison that would exulcerate the very vitals of our empire.

The following paragraphs are now first translated from the third book of Cicero de Legibus.

"The next legal maxim (says he) treats of suffrages and votes, which as I have said, should be notorious to the nobles, and free to the people (nota optimatibus, populo, libera).

Atticus. I have given much attention to this maxim, but I do not well understand its spirit and its sense.

Marcus. I confess, my Atticus, we have now to treat on a very difficult question, and one already much discussed. That question is, whether in case of suffrages at the election of magistrates, or in the formation of laws, or in the judgement of criminals, the votes should be given openly by poll, or secretly by ballot.

Quintus. It is indeed a doubtful question, I fear we shall again differ in opinion.

Marcus. I do not think so, my Quintus; for here I hold that doctrine which I know you always maintained, that in giving suffrages and votes, nothing can be better than an open declaration viva voce (Nihil ut fuerit in suffragiis voce melius). But let us examine how far it is attainable.

Quintus. With your permission, my brother, I should say that the distinction you take between the propriety and the practicability of any measure, is fraught with mischief to the inexperienced. It is often hurtful to the state, when a regulation is said to be true and proper in itself, but at the same time that it cannot be obtained, because it cannot be carried without opposing the people. Now I say, the people are to be opposed whenever they act amiss, and it is better for patriotic lawyers to suffer in a good cause, than yield to a bad one. Now who does not perceive that all authority is taken away from our nobility and gentry by the present Roman law of balloting (Quis autem non sensit auctoritatem omnem optimatium, tabellariam legem abstulisse). A law, the people when free, never desired, but which they claimed when oppressed by the domination and power of certain aristocrats. It is no wonder, therefore, that the system of open polling and viva voce votes, presents us with more severe judgments against grandees, than the present plan of ballots. Therefore, it had been far better to sustain the excessive influence of the great for unjustifiable objects in all elective suffrages, than to give the people a mask and veil, by which they may keep the more honourable citizens in ignorance of their individual sentiments, and thus make the ballot a mere cover for corrupt and hypocritical votes, (Quamobrem suffragandi nimia libido in non bonis causis eripienda fuit potentibus, non latebra danda populo, in quâ bonis ignorantibus quid quisque sentiret tabella vitiosum occultaret suffragium.)

For this reason it is, that no good man was ever a supporter of the system of balloting. (Itaque isti rationi neque lator quisquam est inventus neque auctor unquam bonus).

There are four laws of ballots. The first concerning the election of magistrates, was proposed by a certain Gabinius, an unknown and sordid agitator. The second, respecting the adjudications of the people, was proposed two years afterwards by Cassius, who was a nobleman, but, with his family's permission! I venture to say, a nobleman opposed to all goodness, driven to and fro by the idlest rumours of the populace. The third, regarding the ratification or nullification of laws, was carried by Carbo, a seditious and profligate citizen, whose return to the better classes of society, never secured him the approbation of the aristocracy. There remained only the crime of treason, which Cassius himself excepted, in the judgement of which, open viva voce votes were permitted. But Cœlius soon after thought proper to give traitors also the chance of ballot, and manifested as long as he lived, that provided he could oppress Popilius, he cared little or nothing for the injury of the state.

Our grandfather, a man of singular virtue in the lower Arpinum, as long as he lived opposed Gratidius, whose sister our grandmother he had married. And therefore, when Gratidius wanted to introduce the law of ballot here, he roused as many waves in our family circle, as his son Marius afterwards stirred up in the Ægean sea. To such a length did the quarrel proceed, that the consul Scaurus informed of what passed, made this remark to our grandfather, "Would to heaven, Cicero, that a man of your courage and honour had better loved to live in the capital of our commonwealth, than to retire into a country villa!"

Therefore, since our design is not so much to state the Roman laws now in force, but in order to form a more perfect code of jurisprudence,

both to revive those good laws which have become obsolete, and to propose new regulations suitable to the present conditions of society ;—I think we are by no means bound to limit ourselves by the caprice of the populace who cry out for ballot. I conceive you are entitled to take higher ground, for in your treatise on the Commonwealth, your Scipio does not hesitate to condemn the law of Cassius as injudicious, whoever was its author. If you take away the law of ballot you will do still better, for in truth I don't like it at all, nor does my friend Atticus much admire it if I may judge by his countenance.

Atticus. For me, I never admired any thing that pleases the mob, and I regard the best state of the Commonwealth to be that which your brother when Consul promoted, wherein the power of the aristocracy prevails over that of the people.

Marcus. I see Gentlemen, you would repeal the law respecting suffrages, and have no ballot whatsoever. For myself, although I have sufficiently justified in my Commonwealth the line of conduct assumed by Scipio, yet, practically, I would not go quite so far as he. However, it is only under the authority of the nobles which good men will obey, that I concede the right of voting to the people. For these are the very words of my law respecting elections, Let the votes be notorious to the nobles, and free to the people; (Optimatibus nota plebi libera sunto.) which legal maxim contains this doctrine, that all those laws should be abrogated, which have been so contrived as in any way to mask, or hide a suffrage, such as those which hinder full inspection of the ballot, or examination and appeal thereupon. And that law of Marius which makes the passage to the balloting boxes so narrow, should be likewise abolished. (Quæ lex hanc sententiam continet ut omnes leges tollet quæ postea latæ sunt, quæ tegunt omni ratione suffragium ne quis inspiciat tabellam ne roget ne appellat. Pontes etiam lex maria fecit angustos.)

If these rules are opposed, as they generally are, to the ambitious, they are worthy our approval. If the laws indeed could but hinder intrigues, then the people might be allowed the ballot as a vindicator of liberty, provided it were so laid open, and freely exposed to all worthy citizens, that their authority might be blended with the popular privileges, thus leaving the people the power of expressing their deference for the aristocracy.

But why is it, Quintus, as you just now observed, that there were more condemnations past by the open suffrages of the poll, than by the silent secret votes of the ballot? We shall explain the anomaly thus. The people are extremely fond of licence: do but save appearances in this respect, and they will abandon their influence to authority or favour. As to the largesses and bribes which are given to obtain corrupt suffrages, do you not see if we could but get rid of bribery, the characters and counsels of the best men would carry the votes. By my legal maxim therefore, the appearance of liberty is conceded, but as the superintence of the aristocracy is still retained, the cause of contention is banished."

Such are the words of Cicero. He has given us his sentiments on the subject in a far more elaborate and connected form, than any other classical author. His preference clearly lay on the side of the poll, by