especially as I sincerely regret that I was ever blest with any at all.  My rank in life made these accomplishments still more conspicuous; and, fascinated with the general applause which they procured, I never considered about the proper means by which they should be displayed; hence, to purchase a smile from a blockhead I despised, have I frequently treated the virtuous with disrespect, and sported with the Holy Name of heaven to obtain a laugh from a parcel of fools, who were entitled to nothing but my contempt.  Your men of wit, my dear doctor, generally look upon themselves as discharged from the duties of religion, and confine the doctrines of the Gospel to people of meaner understandings; it is a sort of derogation, in their opinion, to comply with the rules of Christianity, and reckon that man possessed of a narrow genius who studies to be good.  What a pity that the Holy Writings are not made the criterion of true judgment! or that any one should pass for a fine gentleman in this world, but he that seems solicitous about his happiness in the next.  My dear doctor, I am forsaken by all my acquaintance, utterly neglected by the friends of my bosom and the dependants of my bounty.  But no matter; I am not now fit to converse with the first, and have no ability to serve the latter.  Let me not be cast off wholly, however, by the good.  Favour me with a visit, dear doctor, as soon as possible.  Writing to you gives me some ease, especially upon a subject I could talk of for ever.  I am of opinion this is the last visit I shall ever solicit from you.  My distemper is powerful.  Come and pray for the departing spirit of the unhappy BUCKINGHAM.

* * * * *

The Sketch Book.

No.  LI.

* * * * *

THE PHANTOM HAND.

  I see a hand you cannot see,
  Which beckons me away!

In a lonely part of the bleak and rocky coast of Scotland, there dwelt a being, who was designated by the few who knew and feared him, the Warlock Fisher.  He was, in truth, a singular and a fearful old man.  For years he had followed his dangerous occupation alone; adventuring forth in weather which appalled the stoutest of the stout hearts that occasionally exchanged a word with him, in passing to and fro in their mutual employment.  Of his name, birth, or descent, nothing was known; but the fecundity of conjecture had supplied an unfailing stock of materiel on these points.  Some said he was the devil incarnate; others said he was a Dutchman, or some other “far-away foreigner,” who had fled to these comparative solitudes for shelter, from the retribution due to some grievous crime; and all agreed, that he was neither a Scot nor a true man.  In outward form, however, he was still “a model of a man,” tall, and well-made; though in years, his natural strength was far from being abated.  His matted black hair,