While the "wo-begone? farce was acting above stairs and below, I requested admission to the haunted room. This was instantly granted, but not the use of a candle, as it was positively asserted that the ghost performed its operations only in the dark. In the dark then I ascended the staircase, found my way to the haunted bed, and sat on its side: but before I had reached it, the knocks and scratches had ceased, and a dead silence prevailed above and below. Here I sat in eager expectation of what was to follow, and presently to my great joy, the spectre recommenced its labours. But to wind up this long story, I felt as well as heard the boy who was in the bed, scratch it under me; and after several trials, found out the way by which he produced the knockings; played the ghost myself, and considerably increased the panic of the party below. Then thinking the scandalous humbug had been carried on long enough, exposed the whole plot, and relieved the astonished village from its nocturnal terrors.

It needs no ghost to tell us that Peter himself instructed the boy how to act, nor what were his motives for so doing. But I must conclude, and with the best wishes for your prosperity,

I continue ever yours,
SYLVATICUS.

LETTER LXXXVI.

DEAR FRANK,

L- Cottage.

I HAVE received very bad intelligence from my booksellers in London. They write me that all their liberal brethren in the trade refused to subscribe for any copies of my poem, and that nearly the whole impression remains on their shelves. They say, too, that they have been unable to get it reviewed or noticed in any publication whatever, either weekly, monthly, or quarterly, with the single exception of the Literary Gazette, which has given a generous example to the many reviews of the day. Its Editor, with the true feelings of honourable literature, has endeavoured to awaken a general interest towards the poem, by favourably recommending it to the notice of the public, and giving several extracts. But is not, my friend, the silence of every other similar publication unwarrantably strange? I vainly imagined that so much liberality and love of genius, particularly when nobly struggling against the frowns of fortune, existed among the literati of this country, that a thousand learned friends would have eagerly stepped forward to bring my writings into notice, and the reviewers,

-those professed patronisers and encouragers of talent wherever found,-would have done me the honour to bring them before the public, to condemn where I have erred, and applaud whatever was worthy the approbation of their critical acumen. I foolishly thought that envy, injustice, and illiberality were confined to the walls of a theatre; but I now begin to perceive that men of literature, with all their fine feelings and their boastings, are also sadly subject to the pernicious influence of what the world calls "good and great," and that the basest passions of the heart are the unworthy attendants of every profession. Of course there must be many splendid exceptions; but alas for me! it has been my sad lot to meet with few, very few such through life. A man of genius may perish miserably in obscurity as much now as in the days of Otway, and be cut off for ever from all his fondest hopes and aspirations, if some powerful patron come not forward to take him by the hand, and introduce him to the notice of the public: unless, indeed, he himself be so fortunate as to possess that which will bribe a minister of state to betray the secrets of the supreme council, and a judge on the bench of Apollo to deceive the public, and pronounce a decision on a literary work the direct reverse of that which it merits.

I have nearly completed the first part of a

second epic poem; and as the money which I obtained for my first is almost exhausted, I shall at Midsummer give a short vacation, go to town, and endeavour to obtain a purchaser for it among some of the booksellers. Your last inforins me that you are about to embark for France, to prosecute your professional studies in the magnificent galleries of the Louvre. May you be successful, and return the Titian of England! If possible, I will so arrange before you embark for the continent, as to meet you in London, and once more spend with you a few happy days, if such days can be in store for me.

I am, as ever,

Yours most truly,
SYLVATICUS.

LETTER LXXXVII.

From Messrs. P. and M. to Sylvaticus.

DEAR SIR,

London.

WE herewith return your MS., in the perusal of which we have been much delighted, and we beg to thank you for your politeness in giving us the refusal of it. We must however decline to become the purchasers, and in doing so we feel it due to you to state our reasons. You well know that the high opinion we entertained of your poetical abilities, induced us to print your` former poem, notwithstanding we had never intended to engage in works of that description; and although we have not been remunerated by the sale, it is but candid to declare to you that our opinion of its merits not only remains the same, but has been amply confirmed by the opinions of some of the first literary characters to whom we have shown it. Its failure, then, must be attributed to the circumstance of our being quite out of the line of such publications, (con