MR. VAUGHAN'S WITCH OP ENDOE.

Tus character and fate of Saul seem at first sight peculiarly fitted for poetry. His strong passions, his varying fortunes, his tragic end, give all the force, elevation, and interest, which are requisite to the drama or the epic. His vices and weaknesses, though obvious, and obviously productive of his misfortunes, are so common to humanity that they never deprive him of sympathy. The supernatural, which accompanies him throughout, and the mysterious. scene that discloses his downfall on the coming morrow, furnish a ready-made machinery ; whilst the domestic touches intermingled with the regal state and visible dispensations, bring the human nature of the whole story more home to the feelings than is probably accomplished even in SHAILSPERE'S Lear. Yet no one has succeeded with the subject ; and the want of success which has attended poetical endeavours upon this theme may be attributed to two causes. The poetical character of the original narrative, which does not admit of much addition or change ; for if a subject is in itself poetical, its mere transcript, however homely, is sufficient,—as may be seen by the ill success of poets in using materials of this kind, unless their judgment has restrained than from paraphrastic additions. The theocratic character of the Scriptural story is another and a more certain cause of failure ; not merely in parts which directly relate to inspiration—such as the prophesying of Saul, but the mind expects from men who are contemporaries of the patriarchs and prophets, a simple dignity and elevation, even though they may not come into immediate communication with the Godhead.

The portion of Saurs career which Mr. VAUGHAN has chosen for his dramatic poem is the celebrated interview with the Witch of Endor. In this he has displayed judgment ; for the subject is complete : it forms a crisis in the fate of the hero, where, by means of retrospection and anticipation, the leading incidents of his career may be exhibited ; and though the incantation-scene is. highly supernatural, its working is rather by the human means of witchcraft than the actual presence of the Divinity. The plan of the work is unequal to the choice of the subject, and we are inclined to place some faults of execution upon the error of the plan. If more than the scene with the Witch and its immediate circumstances were to be shown, the plan required a proportionate extension ; for, manage as one may, Saurs earlier life must be narrated, and it would require great judgment in choosing the persons, and the circumstances under which they tell the story, to avoid the common defect noted in The Critic—" Mr. Puff, as he knows all this, why does Sir Walter go on telling him ?" Instead of a varied plan, Mr. VatronAn's is very simple ; consisting nominally of three but in reality of two scenes, the first without the hut of the Witch, the second within. The opening introduces Saul with two attendants, Doeg and Nahor, whom he despatches in search of the Witch, himself filling up the time with a soliloquy ; and when this is finished, he withdraws, merely to give Nahor whilst waiting with Doeg an opportunity to recur to the past. This soliloquy of Saul is in any sense too long, but in a dramatic sense it passes all bounds. It is necessarily deficient in dramatic spirit ; for dramatic spirit would seem to consist of thoughts or sentiments not merely appropriate to the speaker, but limited to the circumstances in which he is placed, and consequently brief. The long outpouring of Saul is rather the result of a clever modern speculation on his position, than an emanation from a mind overburdened

by heavy thoughts of impending evil and dwelling on the present and the morrow, unless in an occasional passage such as this.

"Thus am I sunk As aimless-wandering and irresolute As the fused metal running on the sand.

Could I but read tomorrow's destiny,—

if bright, I might uplift our drooping spirits With the glad breath of favouring prophecies, Or, at the darkest, shun the coming battle, And tear away the page of staiu'd defeat : But Seer and Urim speak not,—no revealing Peoples with dreams my narrow space of sleep. Heaven bath drawn o'er its moon of mild-faced pity A crimsoned darkness ; it bath shone its last Upon my path ; and where that path now leads, In such a depth of gloom—what matters it? "

The second scene exhibits Saul and ths Witch ; the concise

narrative of Scripture being, perhaps allowably, expanded into a tale of the Witch's sufferings under Saul's persecutions of the tribe, and a counter-statement by Saul of his own misery. The scene is not Scriptural—who could expect it ?—but it is powerful, and, but for the contrast which the reader unavoidably draws between the strong simplicity of the old and the rhetorical energy of the new style would be truthful. Such description as this would be in character with some mere human chieftain ; but it is inappropriate to Saul and Scripture, powerful though it be.

WITCH.

"Have I known suffering ? Has my need been scorned? Ay—night and day they drove us up and down,

Butchered us one by one ; in every brake, Wild, height, and cave, spread nets of death for us.

I've made my bed in caverns, holes, and pits, In thorns, and mire, and clefts too rough for beasts, To 'scape the spring-tide flood of massacre.

Breathless and bloody past my hiding-place I saw Saul's soldiers burry many a time.

They dashed my little ones against the rocks—

E'en as they smiled upon their savage faces ; They chased my hoary father to the death; They came upon my husband as he fled- Hard by these rocks it was, and stoned him there. Oh! when will vengeance smooth the memory Of how that night I did creep forth, and found The heaped monument of stones that hid The bruised and bleeding mass; and as I pulled, With careful hand, the jagged flints away, His hairs with hardened gore were stuck to them !

How cursed I Saul, as underneath that moon, So oft the witness of my vain enchantments, Those ragged remnants of his flesh I buried! Again I curse him ! in the coming fight May his red hand bang withered by his side I Stay—hear me—I was lonely, none to pity ; And then had perished but for these poor hinds, Who, part from fear and part that oftentimes I cured their ailments with some simple medicine, Covered my need with many kindnesses.

I have borne this, borne more, endured it all—

Been crushed down like a beast, as if I had No love, no hopes, no ties of bleeding nature To pain when broken;—yet have I endured it. And now, the men who a few seasons back To starve upon these mountains would have left me,

Come crouching. to me with their petty griefs !

Go, bear thy pain as long I have borne mine."

The next scene contains the incantation, the appearance of

Samuel, and his prophecy of the monarch's fate. The incantation somewhat resembles the conjurations in Manfred, as regards length and treatment, though it is not an imitation of BYRON'S style : but the appearance of the Spirit is dramatic, from the close adherence to the original.

The prophecy is an expansion of Scripture, but much too long ;

the weight of the doom evaporates in its diffusion : and we mention this again, because Mr. Vaeousav's main fault seems a tendency to think that he shall "be heard for much speaking." This disposition to enumerate details, instead of presenting the whole, is the unavoidable error of teeming minds; but it is one which should be rigidly guarded against, or all force and distinctness will be lost in a rank luxuriance of verbiage. There is in Mr. VAUGHAN a poetical and even a dramatic spirit, a force of diction, and an elevation of style, which promise greater things than The Witch of Endor, creditable as it is to a "minor"; and it would be a pity to have these qualities marred by the prevailing fashion or mannerism of the day.

MISS BEALE'S YALE OF THE TOWEY.

MISS BEALE has been sojourning in the Vale of the Towey ; and has thrown her eujoyment of its scenery, and her observations on the manners of its rustic population, into the form of a series of' sketches. These, either by original design or by the mode in which she happened to cast them, become connected together, as the book proceeds, by means of the characters, incidents, and fortunes involved in a rural love-match,—which, like all other love, does not run quite smooth to its ending. In the case of William and Rachel, however, there is little romance : they have to struggle, especially Rachel, with the hard realities of working life, quite as much as with the parental opposition to their marriage, on account of a family quarrel. These difficulties form the tale, and the peg to which most of the descriptions are appended. The place in which the parents of the lovers reside serves as a sample of Welsh villages,—seemingly sordid and slovenly enough. Their houses exhibit the accommodation and furniture of the bettermost class of peasants; whilst themselves embody, to a certain degree, the national character of the Welsh peasantry. To break off the

courtship, Jackey Lewis resolves on sending his daughter to set'. vice; which is a means of introducing a Welsh statute, or Hol. land-tide fair, in the language of the Principality ; as Rachel's place in the house of a farmer affords a natural opportunity for describing the domestic economy of that class. The distress of the lovers at parting induces them, half in jest and half in earnest, to try their future fate on All-Hallows Eve; which facilitates an elaborate sketch of that superstition. Many analogous circumstances serve to bring rustic incidents or characters upon the scene ; and the marriages at the end enable the authoress to exhibit "the Bidding,"—a custom similar to the Scotch Penny Wedding, where all the guests contribute something, according to their circumstances, either as a gift, or as a loan to be drawn in on a like occasion.

The merit of this book is its truth ; which leaves a strong impression upon the mind, in spite of the drawback of too literal description. Its structure, however, is deficient, from an incongruity between the sketches and the tale. The interest of the volume is in the story of the lovers; but they are too often and too obviously sacrificed to other things. Sometimes they are altogether lost sight of, in order to describe some scenery or custom ; at other times a scene or incident is introduced, with which they are no doubt connected, but where they are made subordinate instead of principals,—as poor Rachel is kept waiting in the background at the Holland-tide fair, while every thing else is brought forward. This junction of dissimilarities will, we suspect, be the cause of some slight to the mere sketches : the reader will skim them rapidly, to follow the fortunes of Rachel; and in these days, who returns to a new book ?

As the family of the heroine is respectable among the peasantry, and the lovers eventually experience that good fortune which costs the novelist nothing to bestow, they do not descend to practise the " bidding "; but a fellow-servant of Rachel is married to illustrate the custom. An invitation, composed by a professional letter-writer, is sent round to the friends of both parties ; and Miss BEALE tells us the following is a transcript of an actual epistle. It will be seen by the postscript, that advances upon such occasions are transferable; so that old maids or bachelors need not wholly lose their money, if they have near connexions about to enter the holy estate.

A " BIDDING " LETTER.

3c1 November 1842.

Being betrothed to each other, we design to ratify the plighted vow by entering under the sanction of wedlock; and as a prevalent custom exists from time immemorial among Plant y Cymry [Children of Wales] of making a bidding on the concurrence of a homogeneal occasion, we have a tendency to the manners of the oulden tyme; and incited by friends as well as relations to do the same, avail ourselves of this suitableness of circumstance of humbly inviting your agreeable and pleasing presence on Thursday the 29th of December next, at Mr. Sheukin's, in the parish of Llangathen ; and whatever your propensities then feel to grant will meet with an acceptance of the most grateful, with an acknowledgment of the most warmly, carefully registered, and retaliated with promptitude and alacrity, whenever an occurrence of a similar nature presents itself, Your most obedient servants, WILLIAM HOWELLS, SARAH _Lewis.

*** The young man, with his father and mother, (David and Ann Howells,) his brother, (John Howells,) and his cousin, (Edward Howells,) desire that all claims of the above nature due to them be returned to the young man on the above day, and will feel grateful for the bestowments of all kindness conferred upon him.

The young woman, with her father and mother, (Thomas and Letice Lewis,) her sisters, (Elizabeth and Margaret Lewis,) and her cousins, (William and, Mary Morgan,) desire that all claims of the above nature due to them be returned to the young woman on the above day, and will feel grateful for the bestowments of all kindness conferred upon her.

THE BIDDING.

At the top of the parlour-table stands Sally, (the bride,) holding a large pewter plate ; by her side sits Mr. Shenkin, with pen, ink, and paper before him. The Corporal flourishes a tankard of hot ale, spiced, and full of biscuits, whilst one of the bridesmaids displays a plate filled with sprigs of rosemary. The Corporal is honoured by the appellation of "tailor," alias bridesrnan for the day, and seems well satisfied with the part he has to perform. Bill grins by the side of Sally, and watches all that goes on with keen and penetrating eyes. First enters the great Mr. Thomas' Glanmere, and drops five shillings into the plate, begging to say it is a gift. Mr. Shenkin writes upon the large sheet of foolscap, " Mr. Thomas, Glanmere, five shillings, a gift." The Corporal presents his tankard, which Mr. Thomas, Glanmere, nothing loth, receives, and does not return it until he has proved by his deeds, even better than by his heartfelt words, the excellence of the beverage that it contains. The bridesmaid offers a piece ofrosemary as a receipt for the money; and Mr. Thomas retires, after having received the thanks of Bill and Sally, as well as of the latter's parents, who politely conduct him to the kitchen, and hope he will not leave until after tea. Mr. James, Llandewy, and other of Mr. Shenkin's friends, out of compliment to him, give, some three shillings, some two-andsixpence, and receive the ale and rosemary in return. The grandees having disappeared, enter" Davvy Davvies." Five shillings— a loan. The Receiver takes the money; the Recorder writes, "Davvy Davvies, five shillings, a loan." Martha Howells, two shillings and sixpence, in payment of a loan made by Sally to her at her Bidding. Lucy Lewis, one shilling, a gift. Tom Jones, (Bill's farm-companion,) five shillings, a gift. Betsey Thomas, half-a-sovereign, a loan. The half-sovereign is placed conspicuously upon the edge of the pewter plate, and a particularly nice piece of rosemary given in return. " Ha, ha!" says the corporal; "a smart husband for you, Miss. What a pretty, straight sprig you've got ; he'll be a well-mule young fellow, I'm sure : no wonder you didn't drink the ale." One after another, the guests enter the parlour. There are nearly a hundred persons, and each contributes something. Some give, some lend ; others repay Bidding-debts contracted by them to Sally or Bill; others, again repay money lent on similar occasions to the relations mentioned in the Biddingletters—Bill and Sally's mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, and cousins. Crowns, half-crowns, shillings, and sixpences fill the bottom of the plate, whilst one or two sovereigns, and several half-sovereigns, glitter around its edge. By degrees the parlour is filled; for the young people linger to hear the Corporal's jokes upon the sprigs of rosemary they. receive, and which are sup-. posed to be portentous of the shape and size of their future husbands or wive&