Atlantic Monthly, Vol. 3, No. 20, June, 1859

_Poet._ Ay, that's well known:-- But what particular rarity? what strange, That manifold record not matches? See,

And we fancy him waving his hand in an enthusiastic manner,--

Magic of bounty! all these spirits thy power Hath conjured to attend.

Which manner is only a high-flowing habit, for he adds in the same breath, dropping his figure suddenly,--

I know the merchant. _Painter._ I know them both; t'other's a jeweller.

It is certainly natural that painters should know jewellers,--and, perhaps, that poets should be able to recognize merchants, though the converse might not hold. We now know who the next speakers are, and soon distinguish them.

_Merchant._ Oh, 'tis a worthy lord! _Jeweller._ Nay, that's most fixed. _Merchant._ A most incomparable man; breathed as it were To an untirable and continuate goodness: He passes. _Jeweller. _I have a jewel here.

The Jeweller being known, the Merchant is; and, it will be noticed that the first speaks