s teeth.

Poets have sometimes displayed an obliquity of taste in their female
favourites. As if conscious of the power of ennobling others, some have
selected them from the lowest classes, whom, having elevated into
divinities, they have addressed in the language of poetical devotion.
The Chloe of Prior, after all his raptures, was a plump barmaid. Ronsard
addressed many of his verses to Miss Cassandra, who followed the same
occupation: in one of his sonnets to her, he fills it with a crowd of
personages taken from the Iliad, which to the honest girl must have all
been extremely mysterious. Colletet, a French bard, married three of his
servants. His last lady was called _la belle Claudine_. Ashamed of such
menial alliances, he attempted to persuade the world that he had married
the tenth muse; and for this purpose published verses in her name. When
he died, the vein of Claudine became suddenly dry. She indeed published
her "Adieux to the Muses;" but it was soon discovered that all the
verses of this lady, including her "Adieux," were the compositions of
her husband.

Sometimes, indeed, the ostensible mistresses of poets have no existence;
and a slight occasion is sufficient to give birth to one. Racan and
Malherbe were one day conversing on their amours; that is, of selecting
a lady who should be the object of their verses. Racan named one, and
Malherbe another. It happening that both had the same name, Catherine,
they passed the whole afternoon in forming it into an anagram. They
found three: Arthenice, Eracinthe, and Charinte. The first was
preferred, and many a fine ode was written in praise of the beautiful
Arthenice!

Poets change their opinions of their own productions wonderfully at
different periods of life. Baron Haller was in his youth warmly attached
to poetic composition. His house was on fire, and to rescue his poems
he rushed through the flames. He was so fortunate as to escape with his
beloved manuscripts in his hand. Ten years afterwards he condemned to
the flames those very poems which he had ventured his life to preserve.

Satirists, if they escape the scourges of the law, have reason to dread
the cane of the satirised. Of this kind we have many anecdotes on
record; but none more poignant than the following:--Benserade was caned
for lampooning the Duc d'Epernon. Some days afterwards he appeared at
court, but being still lame from the rough treatment he had received, he
was forced to support himsel