will out." Even the peaceable Ephraim took up the handspike, and used it
too, with "friend, keep thee in thy own ship." The "friend" was
hyprocrisy--the use of the handspike, natural; the very elements are at
war, and were made to be so--storms are as necessary as sunshine. But
excellent able John Bell likes sunshine best; and who does not like him
the better for that? And sweet sunshine has he shed around "The good
Mayde"--a sunshine that makes its own magic circle, within which evil
spirits or evil men shall not come. Tempt on, ye wizards--she looketh
upwards, yet think not she will fall or miss her way--the Unseen guideth
her steps. Bell's account of the matter is, however, far better. Let him
publish his quaint poem, all of it; the specimens warrant the request.

"Thus doth the goode Mayde, with a stedfaste eye,
Walke through the troubles vaine, and peryls dire,
That doe beset mayde's path with haytes full slie,
The trappes and gynnes of mischief's cunning syre.
Ne nought to her is riches' golden shower,
Ne gaudy baites of dresse and rich attyre,
Ne lover's talke, ne flatteries' worthless store,
Ne scandal's forked tongue--that ancient liar,
Ne music's magic breath, ne giddy wheel
Of gay lascivious daunce, ne ill-raised mirthe,
Ne promised state doth cause her mind to reel,
Or lure from thoughts of heaven to joys of earthe."

Our poet, a moralist etcher, reverts to the old subject; and we have
"The Progresse of Warre," in a series, as part of a frieze for his
Temple of Peace. This is most clear--for he who runs may read; yet, on a
second view, we doubt that--for we see, what we did not at first see,
writing under each tablet that is by no means intelligible. Having, with