y judged by various readers. In the halcyon days
that followed, Winifred never forgot the place on the Tivy bank where
she slept and dropped her book; nor did the happy husband, melancholic
no more, forsake his coracle or his harp utterly, but would often
serenade his lady-love (albeit his wedded love also) on some golden
evening, as she sat among the cowslips and harebells, that enamelled
with floral blue and gold the greensward bank of the Tivy, under the
fine sycamore tree--the "trysting-place" of their romantic assignations.

FOOTNOTES:

[20] Harper.

[21] _St Elian._--A saint of Wales. There is a well bearing his name;
one of the many of the holy wells, or _Ffynnonan_, in Wales. A man whom
Mr Pennant had affronted, threatened him with this terrible vengeance.
Pins, or other little offerings, are thrown in, and the curses uttered
over them.

[22] In the "History of the Gwyder Family," it is stated, that some
members of a leading family in the reign of Henry VII., being denounced
as "Llawrnds," murderers, (from _Llawrnd_, red or bloody hand,) and
obliged to fly the country, returned at last, and lived long disguised,
in the woods and caves, being dressed all in green; so that "when they
were espied by the country people, all took them for the "_Tylwyth Teg_,
the fair family," and straight ran away.

NORTH'S SPECIMENS OF THE BRITISH CRITICS.

No. VI.

SUPPLEMENT TO DRYDEN ON CHAUCER.

From the grand achievements of Glorious John, one experiences a queer
revulsion of the currency in the veins in passing to the small doings of
Messrs Betterton, Ogle, and Co., in 1737 and 1741; and again, to the
still smaller of Mr Lipscomb in 1795, in the way of modernizations of
Chaucer. Who was Mr Betterton, nobody, we presume, now knows; assuredly
he was not Pope, though there is something silly to that effect in
Joseph Warton, which is repeated by Malone. "Mr Harte assured me," saith
Dr Joseph, "that he was convinced by some circumstances which Fenton had
communicated to him, that Pope wrote the characters that make the
introduction (the Prologue) to the Canterbury Tales, published under the
name of Betterton." Betterton is bitter bad; Ogle, "_wersh_ as cauld
parritch without sawte!" Lipscomb is a jewel. In a postscript to his
preface he says, "I have barely time here, the tales being already
almost all printed off, to apologize to the reader for having inserted
my own translation of The Nun's Priest's Tale, instea