t be yet entirely eradicated.
When it is considered how many things concur to keep up an error of this
kind, and that among the great as well as with the vulgar, opinions as
puerile are not only received, but even made a rule of action, it may be
inferred, that in every age and in every country, however civilized,
superstition always maintains its influence, though it may occasionally
vary in its object or name. The human mind alternately wise and weak,
indiscriminately adopts error and truth.

_Romford_.

H.B.A.

* * * * *

THE NOVELIST.

* * * * *

ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN.

[The _Literary Gazette_ of Saturday last enables us to present our
readers, (almost entire) the following Legend respecting the house and
ancestry of the heroine of Sir Walter Scott's forthcoming Novel--_Anne of
Geierstein_. The tale is entitled Donnerhugel's Narrative, and was told by
a remarkable Swiss to the English hero of the Romance.]

"I told you, (said Rudolf) that the lords of Arnheim, though from
father to son they were notoriously addicted to secret studies, were,
nevertheless, like the other German nobles, followers of war and the
chase. This was peculiarly the case with Anne's maternal grandfather,
Herman of Arnheim, who prided himself on possessing a splendid stud of
horses, and one steed in particular, the noblest ever known in these
circles in Germany. I should make wild work were I to attempt the
description of such an animal, so I will content myself with saying his
colour was jet black, without a hair of white, either on his face or feet.
For this reason, and the wildness of his disposition, his master had
termed him Apollyon; a circumstance which was secretly considered as
tending to sanction the evil reports which touched the house of Arnheim,
being, it was said, the naming of a favourite animal after a foul fiend.

"It chanced, one November day, that the baron had been hunting in the
forest, and did not reach home till night-fall. There were no guests with
him, for, as I hinted to you before, the castle of Arnheim seldom received
any other than those from whom its inhabitants hoped to gain augmentation
of knowledge. The baron was seated alone in his hall, illuminated with
cressets and torches. His one hand held a volume covered with characters
unintelligible to all save himself. The other rested on the marble table,
on which was placed a flask of Tokay