Principio cœlum ac terras, camposque liquentes, 'Si inquam, eandem rem, hoc pacto referat mihi, non admirabor solum, sed adamabo: et divinum nescio quid, in animum mihi immissum existimabo. In the quotation which he gives, we at once detect the proper tools and cunning of the poet: fancy gives us liquentes campos, titania astra, lucentem globum luna, and phantasy or imagination, in virtue of its royal and transmuting power, gives us intus alit— infusa per artus-and that magnificent idea, magno se corpore miscet-this is the divinum nescio quid—the proper work of the imagination-the master and specific faculty of the poet-that which makes him. what he is, as the wings make a bird, and which, to borrow the noble words of the Book of Wisdom, 'is more moving than motion,-is one only, and yet manifold, subtle, lively, clear, plain, quick, which cannot be letted, passing and going through all things by reason of her pureness; being one, she can do all things; and remaining in herself, she maketh all things new.' The following is Fracastorius' definition of a man who not only writes verses, but is by nature a poet : Est autem ille naturâ poeta, qui aptus est veris rerum pulchritudinibus capi monerique; et qui per illas loqui et scribere potest;' and he gives the lines of Virgil,—— 'Aut sicubi nigrum Ilicibus crebris sacra nemus accubet umbra,' as an instance of the poetical transformation. All that was merely actual or informative might have been given in the words sicubi nemus, but phantasy sets to work, and videte, per quas pulchritudines, nemus depinxit; addens ACCUBET, ET NIGRUM crebris ilicibus et SACRA UMBRA! quam ob rem, recte Pontanus dicebat, finem esse poeta, apposite dicere ad admirationem, simpliciter, et per universalem bene dicendi ideam. This is what we call the beau-idéal, or Kar' oxy, the ideal-what Bacon describes as 'a more ample greatness, a more exact goodness, and a more absolute variety than can be found in the nature of things, the world being in proportion inferior to the soul, and the exhibition of which doth raise and erect the mind by submitting the shews of things to the desires of the mind.' It is the wondrous and goodly pa terne' of which Spenser sings in his 'Hymne in honour of Beautie :' 'What time this world's great Workmaister did cast It seems that he before his eyes had plast With sinfull eyes, for feare it to deflore, 'For through infusion of celestial powre The duller earth it quickneth with delight, Through all the parts, that to the looker's sight It is that 'loveliness' which Mr. Ruskin calls 'the signature of God on his works,' the dazzling printings of His fingers, and to the unfolding of which he has devoted, with so much of the highest philosophy and eloquence, a great part of the second volume of Modern Painters. But we are as bad as Mr. Coleridge, and are Sic sedebat. defrauding our readers of their fruits and flowers, their peaches and lilies. Henry Vaughan, 'Silurist,' as he was called, from his being born in South Wales, the country of the Silures, was sprung from one of the most ancient and noble families of the Principality. Two of his ancestors, Sir Roger Vaughan and Sir David Gam, fell at Agincourt. It is said that Shakspere visited Scethrog, the family-castle in Brecknockshire; and Malone guesses that it was when there that he fell in with the word 'Puck.' Near Scethrog, there is CwnPooky, or Pwcca, the Goblin's Valley, which belonged to the Vaughans; and Crofton Croker gives, in his Fairy Legends, a facsimile of a portrait, drawn by a Welsh peasant, of a Pwcca, which (whom?) he himself had seen sitting on a milestone,1 by the roadside, in the early morning, a very unlikely personage, one would think, to say,— 1 We confess to being considerably affected when we look at this odd little fellow, as he sits there with his innocent upturned toes, and a certain forlorn dignity and meek sadness, as of 'one who once had wings.' What is he? and whence? Is he surface or substance? is he smooth and warm? is he glossy, like a blackberry? or has he on him 'the raven down of darkness,' like an unfledged chick of night? and if we smoothed him, would he smile? Does that large eye wink? and is it a hole through to the other side? (whatever that may be;) or is that a small crescent moon of darkness swimming in its disc? or does the eye disclose a bright light from within, where his soul sits and enjoys bright day? Is he a point of admiration whose head is too heavy, or a quaver or crotchet that has lost his neighbours, and fallen out of the scale? Is he an aspiring Tadpole in search of an idea? What have been, and what will be, the fortunes of this our small Nigel (Nigellus)? Think of 'Elia' having him sent up from the Goblin Valley, packed in wool, and finding him lively! how he and ‘Mary' would doat upon him, feeding him upon some celestial, unspeakable pap, 'sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes, or Cytherea's breath.' How the brother and sister would croon over him 'with murmurs made to bless,' calling him their 'tender novice' ' in the first bloom of his nigritude,' their belated straggler from the rear of darkness thin,' their little night-shade, not deadly, their infantile Will-o'-the-wisp caught before his sins, their 'poor Blot,' their innocent Blackness,' their 'dim Speck.' 'I go, I go; look how I go! Swifter than arrow from the Tartar's bow.' We can more easily imagine him as one of those Sprites 'That do run By the triple Hecat's team, From the presence of the Sun, Following darkness like a dream.' Henry, our poet, was born in 1621, and had a twin-brother, Thomas. Newton, his birth-place, is now a farm-house on the banks of the Usk, the scenery of which is of great beauty. The twins entered Jesus College, Oxford, in 1638. This was early in the Great Rebellion, and Charles then kept his Court at Oxford. The young Vaughans were hot Royalists; Thomas bore arms, and Henry was imprisoned. Thomas, after many perils, retired to Oxford, and devoted his life to alchemy, under the patronage of Sir Robert Murray, Secretary of State for Scotland, himself addicted to these studies. He published a number of works, with such titles as 'Anthroposophia Theomagica, or a Discourse of the Nature of Man, and his State after Death, grounded on his Creator's Proto-chemistry;' 'Magia Adamica, with a full discovery of the true Calum terræ, or the Magician's Heavenly Chaos and the first matter of all things. Henry seems to have been intimate with the famous wits of his time: Great Ben,' Cartwright, T |