drinking success to their distant enterprise in such quarters, and enjoying a hearty after-supper booze by the side of a cheerful crackling fire of logs thus ensconced, we say, we may suppose Masters Antonius and Adolphus to have had their chat together for an hour or two, when our author obligingly places us within earshot, behind the oaken wainscotting, and we hear our simple friend Antonius ejaculating as follows:

Antonius-"What frightful things you tell me of! Call you that taking a voyage? God forbid that I should ever think of venturing upon the like.” And hark, now Adolphus speaksAdolphus" Nay; what I have already told you is mere child's play to what you shall now hear.”

Antonius-"I shudder at the perils you describe as though I were actually

in the midst of them."

Adolphus" For my part I feel a pleasure in narrating the dangers I have encountered."

Now, resuming the story which he is supposed to have previously been telling, Adolphus proceeds

“On the night I speak of, one circumstance occurred which, in a great measure, deprived our captain of hopes of safety."

Antonius "What was that, pray?" Adolphus-"The night was tolerably brightsome. Close to the top of the mainmast was posted one of the sailors to look out for land. On the point of the mast just above him suddenly appeared a ball of fire. This phenomenon when it appears single, is, you must know, esteemed most inauspicious by mariners; when double, they, on the contrary, consider it of good omen. These fiery appearances were by the ancients believed to be the deities Castor and Pollux."

Antonius-"What had they to do with navigation?—one of whom was a horseman, the other a boxer."

Adolphus "The poets would have it so."

At the period when Erasmus wrote the "Colloquies," the Greek tongue, of recent introduction into Western European introduction consequent upon the destruction of the Eastern Empire was known to but a very scanty few of the then literary world.

Erasmus had applied himself with great labour to the acquisition of that peerless language, and the study of its as peerless literature; and it is interesting, under the circumstances, to find traces, in the way of imitation, of his intimate acquaintance with the leading clas sics of the Greeks. Thus, in the latter portion of the passage last quoted, we may perceive the most obvious traces of the style and manner of thought of the witty and admirable Lucian. Those of our readers who are not strangers to the writings of the jesting old denizen of Samosata, will not fail to appreciate our remark. Erasmus, who as pired after a style largely partaking of the freshness and vigour of colloquial language, in contradistinction to the Ciceronian predilections of his day,* studied with peculiar interest and attention the works of Plautus and Terence; and he appears with a similar view to have directed his attention to the dialogues of Lucian. The Colloquies," not to speak of others of his works, abound with imitations of that author.

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The singular phenomenon just referred to is, as many of our readers are doubtless aware, not unfrequent of occurrence in tropical latitudes; and of course in mediæval times could not well escape being ranked, with many other curiositios of meteorology, in the category of prodigies. As the result of considerable electrical perturba tions, we need not wonder at its being associated, in fact as well as repute, with remarkable transitions of weather; and thus, irrespective of its picturesqueness as an incident, it is, with singular appositeness and fidelity to nature, introduced in this place by our author.

The ill-boding anticipations of the captain, elicited by the meteoric appearance in question, are speedily confirmed by the rising of a storm, which at length, towards midnight, increases to an intense pitch of fury.

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"Have you ever," says Adolphus, seen the Aips?"

Antonius "I have." Adolphus-"Those mountains, then, are mere warts in comparison with the waves of the sea. As often as the ship was borne aloft upon their crests, you would almost imagine that you could

Under the pressure of stern necessity, the captain at length issues orders for lightening the vessel, by throwing the cargo overboard. All hereupon willingly comply, except an Italian passenger, who proves to be an envoy to the court of the King of Scotland; and who, sink or swim, live or die, is determined not to cry quits with his property. His costly bales, filled with plate, silks, &c., he flatly refuses to part with; but he is, nevertheless, pretty speedily brought to his senses on being in return just as flatly informed that, should he continue refractory, not only will the luggage in question be trundled overboard, but its uncivil and self-seeking proprietor into the bargain.

These efforts, however, prove of but little avail. The ropes and sails are torn to pieces by the force of the wind, and the vessel dismasted: the captain, too, gives up all hope, and tells his crew and passengers that they must prepare themselves to meet their Maker.

"Then," says Adolphus, "was to be seen a dismal spectacle-the sailors, chanting the Salve Regina,' prayed to the Virgin Mother, calling her 'The Star of the Sea,' The Mistress of the World,' The Gate of Salvation.' With these and many other adulatory titles did they court her succour."

"What," says Antonius, "has the Virgin to do with the sea, who, as far as I can recollect, was never even upon it?"

Adolphus "Why, in ancient times Venus, because sprung from the sea, was esteemed to have mariners under her protection; but she has of course long abdicated that office; and so, our lady the Virgin Mother is set up as

patron in her place-the Virgin Mother instead of a mother the most peculiarly unvirginlike imaginable."

The following passage is singular, and not undeserving of comment:

"Some kneeling down poured out oil upon the waves, and as they did so, prayed to the sea, as though they were supplicating some wrathful prince."

Antonius "What did they say?" Adolphus "Oh, most clement sea! oh, most noble sea!—oh, most powerful sea! be calmed, and save us.' Much of the like did they shout forth to the deaf and heedless waves." Antonius "Ridiculous superstition!"

There is, of course, not one of our readers who is not familiar with the figurative expression of "casting oil upon the troubled waters," so generally used in reference to efforts made for the assuaging of angry feelings, and the like. We well remember that in the course of our reading, we have, on several occasions, encountered discussions as to the precise meaning and origin of the figure in question; and have actually seen the idea soberly propounded, that the pouring of oil upon agitated water does repress its undulations; and that the figure in question is simply a reference to this fact. Common sense, even apart from experiment, were sufficient, one would imagine, to expose the absurdity of such an explanation. But the passage before us chances thoroughly, and in an interesting fashion, to elucidate the matter, by informing us of the singular fact, that several centuries ago, in the peculiar age of charms, spells, astrology, and witchcraft, there prevailed, to use the phrase of Antonius, "a ridiculous superstition," that the pouring out of oil upon the waves was a charm for the appeasing of a storm. The superstitious practice itself would appear to have long since become obsolete (though in this we may be mistaken)* in the eccentric ritual of mariners: it has, however, be that as it may, left in the expression which we have been

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considering, an enduring trace in the language.

"What," asks Antonius, "about the others?"

Adolphus "Some were sea-sick, and did nothing but vomit. The majority, however, gave utterance to vows of all sorts. There was an Englishman who promised heaps of gold to the shrine of the Virgin at Walsingham, if he reached land alive. Some vowed all sorts of things to the shrine of the wood of the true cross, at such a place; and others to a similar shrine in some other place. Some to the Virgin Mary of this church, and others to the Virgin Mary of that. Some vowed that they would become monks; and there was one who promised that he would go on a pilgrimage to the shrine of St. James at Compostella, making the journey with his head and feet bare, his body clad in nothing but an iron coat of armour, and begging his meals the entire way."

Antonius "Did no one think of St. Christopher?"

Adolphus-"I could not help laughing at one fellow, who, in a loud voice, as if he was afraid he would not be heard, vowed to St. Christopher, of a certain church in Paris, a wax candle as big as himself. Whilst he was

shouting out his promises to St. Christopher, over and over, as loudly as he could, a fellow passenger who chanced to know him, touched him on the elbow and said, ‘Take care, friend, how you make that promise. Why, if you were to call an auction of all your effects, you would not be able to fulfil it.' Thereupon, in a low whisper, as if lest Saint Christopher should hear him— Tush, you fool,' he replied, do you think I mean what I say? Let me once touch dry land alive, and I will not give him as much as a tallow candle.'

Antonius "The scheming dunderhead-I dare say he was a Hollander."

A gentle little picture of maternal love, a sweet pencilling of the poetry of description, is presently set before There is a charm in its very

us.

she merely pressed her infant closely, and prayed in silence." What a sweet and beautiful picture!

The danger now becomes so imminent that the captain loses all presence of mind, and with tears in his eyes proclaims that the vessel cannot be kept afloat above a quarter of an hour longer.

Just at this critical moment land is hailed - a lofty promontory, upon whose summit is seen the steeple of a church. Here a striking and romantic scene is presented. From the deck of the sinking vessel the hapless voyagers, in an agony of hope bordering on des pair, stretch forth their hands towards the little chapel on the headland, imploring the intercession with heaven of the saint, whoever he may be in whose honour its lonely tower has been erected. As the ship drives landward, the inhabitants of the country are seen making signals, and by their gestures exhibiting their commiseration.

The vessel is now fast settling down in the water, and every wave is breaking over the deck. The sailors, providing for their own safety, appropriate the ship's only boat, recom mending the passengers to lay hold on whatever planks, spars, oars, or the like, they can find, to enable them to float to the shore; and this advice the majority are not slow in adoping. The boat meanwhile being overladen, is swamped before it has got clear of the ship, and every soul in it is lost.

Our friend Antonius, who, like ourselves, has taken an interest in the poor, lonely, patient young mother already mentioned, cannot forbear asking what in this terrible conjuncture

became of her.

Adolphus" She was the very first to reach the land."

Antonius" How came that to happen?"

Adolphus-"I and some others placed her upon a broad plank, and lashed her to it, so that she could not easily slip off. That done, we put into her hand a small stave, which we directed her to use as a paddle, and uttering a hearty prayer for her safety, we, with a long spar, pushed her off from the vessel, whose proximity might else prove fatal to her. It was really delightful to see how, holding her infant closely with her left arm, she manfully plied the paddle with her right."

Antonius-"Ha ha! the brave little creature!"

In addition to her and her infant, but five, Adolphus included (so runs his story), were saved out of a total of fifty-eight. Adolphus himself escapes in company with a sturdy, courageous old priest, named Adam, on the stump of the mast. This portion of the nar rative is very graphically related. Adolphus and a fellow-passenger, who assists him in loosening the stump of the mast from its place, have succeeded in launching it, and have each taken possession of an end, when old Adam, whose bulk under the circumstances was much more imposing than it would be on land, plunges from overhead between them, and insists upon making a third. Adolphus and his comrade are seized with consternation, ask him what brings him there, and tell him that he will sink both them and himself. He, on the other hand, with pious courage, assures them of God's assistance, and insists into the bargain that there is abundance of room. Just at the moment, as they are struggling to get clear of the ship, they are caught by a sea, and the original comrade of Adolphus has his thigh broken against the rudder; whereupon, fainting with pain, he lets go his hold, and is drowned. The old priest offers up a prayer for the repose of his soul, and scrambles into his place; then accosting Adolphus, he exhorts him to keep a fast hold of his end of the spar, and to strike out vigorously with his legs. After floating a long way, their feet touch the sands, and they are drawn on dry land, in an exhausted state, by the inhabitants. The coast proves to be that of Holland, and Erasmus, like a true Dutchman, gives a high character for hospitality to his compatriots. Adolphus vows never, while he is in his senses, to trust himself again upon salt water; and his friend Antonius pointedly assures him that he would much rather listen to stories of such adventures than be an actual partaker in them.

Thus ends this spirited and amusing dialogue.

COLLOQUY THE THIRD. "HIPPOPLANUS," OR THE ROGUISH HORSEDEALER.

What we call the world is, of a truth, most villanously fond of giving vent

to its satiric humour; one of its most approved, as well as amusing methods for the purpose, being the affectation of a sincere and zealous interest for morality, the public welfare, and soforth. In this droll fashion we are used to behold slanders and libels to no end affixed to the characters of a number of conspicuous classes and occupations; these same, be it observed, being all the while not a jot worse than the unlibelled remainder, and rating even some of them among the most important and reputable of the components of the social aggregate. Thus, the profession of the law, for instance, comes in for a grand general sprinkling of jeers and banter, from even the great wigs themselves, and the lofty, and junior-despising Q. C.'s, down to the humblest practitioner, on what, by a peculiar technicality, has been called the half-crown side;" and "fees," and "costs," "Chancery suits," "an attorney's conscience," "Justice and the oyster," and the like, are but moderate specimens of the reputationmurdering missiles, daily and hourly furnished forth from the aresnals of satire, for the artillery of the non-professionals. The sober-faced disciples of Hippocrates and Galen take up, in like manner, a conspicuous position in the ranks of the devoted; and in such amiable phraseology as "doctor's bills," "blood-sucker's profits,' "the drugging system," &c., &c., does the great world of patients take vengeance on the poor doctors for exacting any charge whatsoever for wear and tear of brains-pens, ink, and paper for recipes-pills-powders-bottles, and eternal "gettin' up-stairs!" Instances, of course, might be added up without number; but of all the favourite butts for general gibing in the way in question, the regular votary of "the turf," the professed dabster in horseflesh, stands in undisputed pre-eminence, first and chief" facile princeps."

What an amazing number of witty things are everlastingly bandied about -so much so, indeed, as to have almost all their wit long since knocked out of them-about "jockeying," "doctoring," "scratching," "hedging," and a hundred other awful enormities, equestrian, veterinary, and to matters of the aforesaid "turf" otherwise appertaining, enough to make the hairs on a horse's hide, had the poor beast

the sense to know but the tenth of a tithe of them,

"To stand on end,

Like quills upon the fretful porcupine:"and, as every practitioner of the law is set down by the good-natured public, when in its jocular mood, as a gormandiser of costs -a decoying ogre whose prey is clients; as, in like manner, every grave and health dispensing M.D., M.B., or licentiate of the Esculapian craft, is duly affirmed to be a blisterer and phlebotomist of patients' purses, and everthing short of an accomplice of the gravedigger, and even that, moreover, into the bargain;-so, sooth to say, do our universal folk of the turf and sporting world stand forth in the public pillory of satire, from the trainer's stable boy, or the swell "gent" of the betting-house, upwards to "Sir Harry Beagle," and "My Lord Startall," as a sheer, downright set of "blacklegs;" or if, indeed, for some few out of the lot an exception be made, as though not having exactly waded quite knees deep in the inky hues of iniquity-for these does the exculpatory and saving verdict of the laughing world pronounce, that if not precisely knaves and villains, they are strongly to be suspected of knowing "what's what" a little too well; and, if not entirely corresponding to the character itself, are, at the least, unmistakable next-door-neighbours and cousins-german to that "Q in the corner personage"a bit of a do." According to Swift's celebrated derivation, the terms "hypocrite" and "horse-dealer" were originally identical in meaning;* and all the herd of satirists, large and small, good, bad, and indifferent, since as well as before, have shouted in a similar cry, consigning all connoisseurs in horseflesh to the doom of that unmentionable pit whither converge all the leading paths of human craft and deception.

Our friend Erasmus, employed as he is in his Colloquies, in turning inside out so many of the vices and humbugs of human nature and society-probing so many weak points, and having a laugh at so many foibles and failings could not, we dare say, have prevailed upon himself to let the opportunity slip past of having a grand shy" at these same equestrian con

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noisseurs and dealers, and accordingly, in his "Hippoplanus," treats his readers to some scores of hearty laughs at the expense of that class of his fellowcitizens. Although the horse-dealing folk of Erasmus's day were restricted in their operations to the breeding, buying and selling, and hiring of the animal-that stupendous system which we call "the Turf" being, as yet, in the womb of futurity-still," there was, according to our author, no dearth of the faculty of cajolery among the class; and the knowing ones of the time, although not enjoying as wide a field of action as their successors, would appear to have been by no means unworthy of being the predecessors of the extraordinary "shots' and shavers" who knock a living out of horseflesh in this same nineteenth century of ours.

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The droll and whimsical story contained in the Colloquy before us, will, we are sure, strike those of our readers who are acquainted with Boccacio's "Decameron," as bearing a considerable resemblance to many of the novels of that remarkable work—with this difference, however, be it observed, that Erasmus's story is muchindeed immeasurably better told. The vivacity, the easy humour, and the grace of style of the original-all three, of necessity but imperfectly conveyed in a translation-are inimitable.

The openings of Erasmus's dia. logues are, as we have already observed, ordinarily managed with much dramatic skill; and that of the dialogue before us is not an exception. Aulus, one of the two characters in the scene, catches a sight, at some distance, of his friend Phædrus-the other character, whose countenance, to his surprise, is overcast with a grave and singular expression, very different from its usual one. He observes, moreover, that Phædrus every now and then casts up his eyes to heaven; so that to Aulus's mind, it is tolerably plain that something out of the way, if not wonderful, must have happened. Anxious to be satisfied, he accordingly accosts Phædrus, banters him upon the solemnity of his aspect, and asks him for an explanation. The reply of Phædrus is, that he is grave, because he has been at confession; where, in reply to