same manner, by turning certain pins or valves, is made the foundation of an entertaining story in the Persian Tales; and it gives such extraordinary advantages to the poor weaver of Mousel, who travels in it, that he is enabled to rout whole armies, and even to pass for the prophet Mahomet himself.

In another beautiful Arabian tale, a flying sopha is introduced, which conveys its master wherever he chooses to go. It is observable that the flying chest is consumed by fire, and that all these flying vehicles rise or fall by turning certain handles.

These circumstances make it probable that something like balloons had long since been discovered, and that though the invention has been since lost, some obscure tradition of it's existence has been preserved.

The virtuous ring and glass.-The word virtue applied to inanimate substances is still used; as, the virtues of vegetables or drugs; but the adjective virtuous is become obsolete.

"And if ought else great bards, beside,
In sage and solemn tunes have sung,
Of turneys, and of trophies hung,
Of forests and enchantments drear,

Where more is meant than meets the ear.

"And relate any other strains, sung by great bards, of tournaments and triumphs, of dark forests, and of enchantments, which convey to the mind some hidden moral.

And if ought else. The sense here is incomplete there is no verb in the sentence.The poet means to say, O mournful' virgin, relate other solemn poetry, &c.

any

tournaments.

Of turneys and of trophies hung.-Turneys for Trophies hung. Trophies are spoils taken from an enemy, and hung upon some triumphal arch or pillar, or in some church or temple, to preserve the memory of a victory. The word hung relates only to the word trophies, and not to the word turneys.

Where more is meant than meets the ear.-Good poets mean not only to amuse, but to instruct; and they frequently teach the principles of prudence, religion, and virtue, in the fables and allegories of poetry.

"Thus, Night, oft see me in thy pale career,
Till civil-suited Morn appear,

Not trickt and frounct, as she was wont,

With the attic boy to hunt,

But kerchieft in a comely cloud,

While rocking winds are piping loud;

E

Or usher'd with a shower still,
When the gust hath blown it's fill,
Ending on the rushing leaves,

With minute drops from off the eaves.

"Thus, Night, may you often find me waking till sober Morning appears, not robed in flames and amber light, as she is described in L'Allegro; not dressed as when she pursued the early chace with the athenian Cephalus, but with her head veiled in a becoming cloud, whilst the winds whistle loudly; or else accompanied by a gentle shower, after the wind is hushed, when we hear the last drops of rain rustling amongst the leaves, or dropping at intervals from the eaves of houses."

Civil-suited.-Suited means dressed, having a suit on.-Civil, sober; perhaps it means here, civil, opposed to military.

Not trickt and frounct, as she was wont,
With the attic boy to hunt.—

Shakspeare calls dress tricking. Mrs. Page, in the Merry Wives of Windsor, says, “Go, get us properties and tricking for our fairies.”— Frounct is another word to the same purpose, signifying much the same as frizled, crisped, curled.-The attic boy is Cephalus, with whom Aurora fell in love as he was hunting.

Kerchief; an ancient head-dress. "Oh, what time have you found out, brave Caius, to wear a kerchief."-SHAKSPEARE.

Handkerchief;-a kerchief for the hand. Neckerchief;-a kerchief worn on the neck. Rocking winds-rocking or shaking the walls of buildings. Zanga says, in the tragedy of the Revenge,

"I like this rocking of the battlements."

With minute drops from off the caves.-Drops that fall from the eaves of houses, every now and then, after a shower; perhaps taken from bells formerly tolled, with intervals of a minute, from the death to the burial of distinguished persons.

"And when the sun begins to fling
His flaring beams, me, goddess, bring
To-arched walks of twilight groves,
And shadows brown, that Sylvan loves;
Of pine, or monumental oak,

Where the rude axe with heayed stroke
Was never heard the nymphs to daunt,
Or fright them from their hallow'd haunt;
There, in close covert, by some brook,
Where no profaner eye may look,
Hide me from Day's garish eye,
While the bee, with honied thigh,

That at her flow'ry work doth ŝing,
And the waters murmuring,

With such concert as they keep,
Entice the dewy-feather'd Sleep;

And let some strange, mysterious dream
Wave at his wings, in airy stream
Of lively portraiture display'd,
Softly on my eyelids laid;

And as I wake, sweet music breathe
Above, about, or underneath,

Sent by some spirit, to mortals good,
Or th' unseen genius of the wood.”

“And when the beams of the sun begin to shine with dazzling light, lead me, O goddess (of melancholy) to arched groves, dim as twilight-such shades as the god Sylvanus delights in-formed from pines or oaks, that, from their age, appear like monuments of former times; groves where the rude axe of the woodcutter never alarms the nymphs; there let me lie by the side of some stream, under the shady covert where no profane eye (the eye of none who do not feel enthusiastic love for such scenes) may disturb me; whilft round me the honey bee sings as she collects her stores from the wild flowers, whilst the murmuring streams invite me to sleep; there let some mysterious dream, pictured to my eyes in lively colours, appear to me in my slumbers; and when I