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voice was once heard, and whose charm lies in its entirety-its unity, footsteps once wandered among the which is so perfect—so seemeth it Aowers of this earth. But it is a to our eyes—that 'tis in itself a mistake to believe that such beauty complete world—of which not a line as this can visit the soul only after could be altered without disturbing the original in which it once breathed the spirit of beauty that lies recumis dead. For as it can only be seen bent there, wherever the earth meets by profoundest passion-and the the sky. There is nothing here profoundest are the passions of Love, fragmentary ; and had a poet been and Pity, and Grief-why may not born, and bred here all his days, each and all of these passions— nor known aught of fair or grand when we consider the constitution beyond this liquid vale, yet had he of this world and this life-be awak- sung truly and profoundly of the ened in their utmost height and depth shows of nature. No rude and by the sight of living beauty, as shapeless masses of mountainswell as by the memory of the dead ? such as too often in our own dear To do so is surely within “ the Scotland encumber the earth with reachings of our souls,”—and if so, dreary desolation—with gloom withthen may the virgin beauty of his out grandeur—and magnitude withdaughter, praying with folded hands out magnificence. But almost in and heavenward face when leaning orderly array, and irregular just up in health on her father's knees, tran- to the point of the picturesque, scend even the ideal beauty which where poetry is not needed for the shall afterwards visit his slumbers fancy's pleasure, stand the Race of nightly, long years after he has laid Giants--mist-veiled transparentlyher head in the grave. If by ideal or crowned with clouds slowly setbeauty, you mean a beauty beyond tling of their own accord into all the what ever breathed and moved, and forms that Beauty loves, when with had its being on earth—then we sus- her sister-spirit Peace she descends pect that not even “that inner eye at eve from highest heaven to sleep which is the bliss of solitude" ever among the shades of earth. Sweet beheld it ; but if you merely mean

would be the hush of lake, woods, by ideal beauty, that which is com- and skies, were it not so solemn! posed of ideas, and of the feelings The silence is that of a temple, and, attached by nature to ideas, then, as we face the west, irresistibly are begging your pardon, my good sir, we led to adore. The mighty sun all beauty whatever is ideal—and occupies with his flaming retinue you had better begin to study meta- all the region. Mighty yet mildphysics.

for from his disk awhile insufferaBut what we were wishing to say bly bright, is effused now a gentle is this—that whatever may be the crimson light, that dyes all the west truth with regard to human female in one uniform glory, save where beauty-Windermere, seen by sun- yet round the cloud-edges lingers set from the spot where we now the purple, the green, and the yelstand, Elleray, is at this moment low lustre, unwilling to forsake the the most beautiful scene on this violet beds of the sky, changing, earth. The reasons why it must while we gaze, into heavenly roses ; be so are multitudinous. Not only till that prevailing crimson color at can the eye take in, but the imagi- last gains entire possession of the nation, in its awakened power, can heavens, and all the previous splenmaster all the component elements dor gives way to one glory, whose of the spectacle—and while it ade- paramount purity, lustrous as fire, quately discerns and sufficiently is in its steadfast beauty sublime. feels the influence of each, is alive And, lo ! the lake has received that throughout all its essence to the di- sunset into its bosom! It, too, softvine agency of the whole. The ly burns with a crimson glow—and

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as sinks the sun below the moun- quered by the images of trees ! Lo! tains, Windermere, gorgeous in her the Isle called Beautiful has now array as the Western sky, keeps gathered upon its central grove all fade-fading away as it fades, till at the radiance issuing from that celeslast all the ineffablesplendor expires, tial Urn! And almost in another and the spirit that has been lost to moment it seems blended with the this world in the transcendant vision, dim mass of mainland, and blackor las been seeing all things apper- ness enshrouds the woods. Still as taining to this world in visionary seems the night to unobservant eyes, symbols, returns from that celestial it is fluctuating in its expression as sojourn, and knows that its lot is, the face of a sleeper overspread henceforth as heretofore, to walk with pleasant but disturbing dreams. wearicdiy, perhaps, and wobegone, Never for any two successive moover the no longer divine but disen- ments is the aspect of the night the chanted earth!

same-each smile has its own meanIt is very kind in the moon and ing, its own character—and Light is stars-just like them—to rise so soon felt to be like Music, to have a mealier sunset. The heart sinks at the lody and a harmony of its own—80 - sight of the sky, when a characterless mysteriously allied are the powers might succeeds such a blaze of light and provinces of eye and ear, and by like dull reality dashing the last such a kindred and congenial agency vestiges of the brightest of dreams. do they administer to the workings When the moon is “hid in her va- of the spirit. cant interlunar cave," and not a star Well, that is very extraordinarycan “burst its cerements,” in the Rain-rain-rain ! All the eyes of dim blank Imagination droops her heaven were bright as bright might wings our thoughts become of the be-he sky was blue as violets carth earthy—and poetry seems a that braided whiteness, that here pastime fit but for fools and children. and there floated like a veil on the But how difierent our mood, when brow of niglit, was all that recalled

the “ Glows the firmament with living sapphire!"

of clouds—and as for memory

the moon, no faintest halo yellowed and Diana, who has ascended high round her orb that seemed indeed in heaven, without our having ever one perfect chrysolite ; ”-yet once observed the divinity, bends while all the winds seemed laid her silver bow among the rejoicing asleep till morn, and beauty to have stars, while the lake, like another chained all the elements into peace sky, seems to contain its own lumina -overcast in a moment is the firries, a different division of the con- mament-an evanishing has left it stellated night ! ”Tis merry Winder- blank as mist—there is a fast, thick, mere no more! Yet we must not call pattering on the woods-yes-rain her melancholy-though somewhat -rain-rain-and eré we reach sad she seems, and pensive, as if Bowness the party will be wet the stillness of universal nature did through to their skins. Nay-mattouch her heart. How serene all ters are getting still more serious the lights—how peaceful all the —for there was lightning-lightshadows ! Steadfast alike—as if ning ! Ten seconds ! and hark, there they would brood forever- very respectable thunder! With yet transient as all loveliness—and all our wisdom we have not been at the mercy of every cloud! In weather-wise-or we should have some places, the lake has disap known-when we saw it-an elecpeared-in others the moonlight is trical sunset. Only look now toalmost like sunshine-only silver in wards the west. There floats Nostead of gold! Here spots of quiet ah's Ark—a magnificent spectacle light—there lines of trembling lustre --and now for the Flood. That farand there a flood of radiance che- off sullen sound is the sound of cata

racts. And what may mean that in the very heart of the hurricane. sighing and moaning, and mutter- See in Bowness is hurrying many a ing up among the cliffs? See-see light-for the people fear we may be how the sheet lightning shows on the lake—and Billy, depend on't, the long lake-shore all tumbling is launching his life-boat to go to our with foamy breakers. A strong assistance. Well, this is an advenwind is there—but here there is not ture.—But soft—what ails our Ara breath. But the woods across gand lamp ! Our Study is in such the lake are bowing their heads to darkness, that we cannot see our the blast. Windermere is in a tu- paper-and therefore in the midst of mult-the storm comes flying on a thunder-storm we conclude our wings all abroad-and now we are Article.



nimate objects please merely as obDo not confer benefits in the ex- jects of sense or contemplation, and pectation of meeting with gratitude; we ask no return of the passion or and do not cease to confer them be- admiration from them, so that we

you find those whom you have cannot be disappointed or distracted served ungrateful. Do what you in our choice. If we are delighted think fit and right to please your- with a flower or a tree, we are self; the generosity is not the less pleased with it for its own sake ; noreal, because it does not meet with thing more is required to make our a correspondent return.

satisfaction complete : we do not

ask the flower or tree whether it II.

likes us again ; and, therefore, It is a sort of gratuitous error in wherever we can meet with the high life, that the poor are naturally same or a similar object, we may thieves and beggars, just as the lat- reckon upon a recurrence of the ter conceive that the rich are natu same soothing emotion. Nature is rally proud and hard-hearted. Give the only mistress that smiles on us a man who is starving a thousand a still the same ; and does not repay year, and he will be no longer un- admiration with scorn, love with hader a temptation to get himself tred.

She is faithful to us, as long banged by stealing a leg of mutton as are faithful to ourselves. for his dinner ; he may still spend it Whereas, in regard to the human in gaming, drinking, and the other species, we have not so much to vices of a gentleman, and not in consider our own dispositions tocharity, about which he before made wards others, as theirs towards us. such an outcry..'

A thousand caprices, interests, and

opinions, may intervene before the III.

good understanding can be mutual ; The word gentility is constantly we not only cannot infer of one inin the mouths of vulgar people ; as dividual from another, but the same quacks and pretenders are always individual may change to-morrow : talking of genius. Those who pos- so that in our intercourse with the sess any real excellence, think and world, there is nothing but littlesay the least about it.

ness, uncertainty, suspicion, and

mortification, instead of the grandIV.

eur and repose of nature. The source of the love of nature or of the country has never been

V. explained so well as it might be. It has been objected to the soothThe truth is this. Natural or ina- ing power of Nature, that it cannot

20 ATHENEUM, VOL. 5, 3d series,




take away the sharp pang of vehe- ment us by offering to divert our ment distress, but rather barbs the grief in its keenest paroxysms ; but dart, and seems to smile in mockery yet cannot be denied to be enviable of our anguish. But the same might resources and consolations of the be said of music, poetry, and friend- human mind, when the bitterness of ship, which only tantalize and tor- the moment has passed over.



“When Caractacus was taken as a prisoner to Romc, on entering the city and secing the splendor around him, he exclaimed, 'What! could the Romans, with all this magnificence, envy me my little cottage in Britain ?'English History. SAY, wherefore have ye borne me here, Ye have hung wreaths on shrine and dome;

Away from mine own pleasant land, Know, I have lovelier at home And kept me thus with shield and spear, Of dark green ivy leaves. And with this armed band ?

Ye have rich sounds of flute and horn; I have no treasures to unfold,

I had as sweet oncs every morn
No glittering hoard of gems and gold,

From the swallows in ihe eaves.
No royal robes to yield;
I only have my limbs and life,

And I have one proud thought that still A heart that quails not in the strife,

Gives me a triumph o'er ye all; A trusty spear and shield.

My spirit's eye whene'er I will

On those old scenes can fall: Around me there are pillar'd halls, And I have deeper, dearer bliss, Where sweet lutes sound and bright In gazing on those niemories, wines flow,

Those pictures of the past, And floats the voice of festivals

Than you in wearing victory's crown, Around me as I go.

In looking on your trophied town,
And could ye, who possess all these, Or listing trumpet's blast.
Envy my cottage 'midst the trees,

'Neath Britain's changeful sky? The spell is on my heart !-my land ! Where no fair eastern floweret blooms, My native home! my own dear isle ! Where naught save the wild rose per. Now I can face ye, tyrant band, fumes

With a defying smile. The fresh wind wandering by.

My heart is strengthen'd in those ties,

In trust, in love, ihat never dies ! Ye have torn me from my quiet nest, Bring forth your chains, and bind

And deem you ye can force from me And fetter every free-born limb.
The feelings that there made me blest, The spirit's liulit ye cannot dim,
Blessings for you to be?

Ye cannot chain the mind.
Oh! these are treasures I have seal'd
Within my heart, deep, unreveal’d; And if ye bear me unto death,
Nor racks nor tortures e'er

What then? I have no slavish fear;
Can wrench them from the sacred hold I can resign this worthless breath
They have within its inmost fold,

Without a sigh or tear. Apart from mortal care.

And there is something in my heart,

That tells me I shall not depart, Illumined is your city now

And leave the world in vain ; With myriad lamps in hall and bower; That whispers,—and it must be so ! My home was fairer with the glow That friends, afar froen earthly woe,' Of stars at midnight's hour.

Shall surely meet again!


BY DELTA. The shower hath drifted o'er; the blue The sun looks forth o'er ocean's isles, Of cloudless heaven shines softly through; O'er earth and heaven, and, setting, smiles. Still is the air, the sea is calm, The bright-bloom'd flowers outbreathing What though the day in clouds háth balm :

pass'd, And from the west, with orange ray, Though dripp d' the rain, and roar'd the Serenely clear and calmly gay,


Though morning's orient flag unfurl'd Remote from men, with easy breast, Scarce awed the shades that dimm'd the While scenes awake to Memory's eyeworld,

Scenes, whose bright hues can never die And fire-eyed noon's resplendent car As round the pictures of the past Plough'd vainly tbrough deep mists afar- Her more than sunlight glow is cast,This scene of beauty and delights, Scenes 'mid Time's landscape far, but seen, And evening radiance, well requites By distance, hallow'd, calm, serene, For dreary doubts and boding gloom, And bearing in their mellow dyes And dreams whose dwelling was the tomb. As 'twere the mark of Paradise ;

So, over ocean's billows curl'd The murmaring bee from flower to flower Blúe coasts, the confines of a worldIs roaming round the bloss'my bower, A world of hope, and love, and truth, The clustering bower, where jasmine And beauty to the eyes of youth ; wreath

Some realm of fancy, which how fain Is mix'd with odorous flowers ; beneath The feet would traverse--but in vain. The creeping honeysuckle weaves Its yellow horns with ivy leaves ;

Yes! all of calm, and grand, and fair, And round about, in many a row,

In iris hues are pictured there; The lilies of the valley blow,

There, from terrestrial dross refined, L'pshooting snowy bells between

We see the shadows of mankind, Luxuriant stems of darkest green.

Beyond the clouds of grief and fear,

Bright wandering in a fairy sphere ; How bright, how beautiful, the day

Allow-born cares dispersed and gone, In its calm lustre dies away,

Misfortune fled, and Pain unknown. As if the clouds that wept the while low dried their tears, and turn'd to smile We look on valorous deeds, which raise Down on the verdant vales of earth, To ecstacy the voice of praise, Whose looks have changed from gloom to As youthful Wolfe sinks down to die mirth!

Within the arms of victory ;
On every blade, and leaf, and stem, Or Moore, without a murmur, yields
Of diamond drops a diadem

His spirit on the last of fieids,
Around is sprinkled, bright and clear And, by his mourning comrades brave,
As beauty's sympathizing tear

Is laid, at midnight, in the grave,
When sióless sorrows cause its flow; The wailing of the restless surge,
The fruits depend from every bough, And cannon of the foe, his dirge :-
Mellow and ripe ; the downy peach, We listen to the words, whose glow
The purpled plum, and nectarine, each Makes nations like a river flow,
Half-shaded by its leaves, in hue

As Chatham's kindled lips dispense
Diversified, and varying too.-

The lara tide of eloquence,
With note melodious, clear, and free, Uumanacle the friendless slave,
l'pon the moss-brown'd apple-tree, Stir up the nerveless to be brave,
Within the ancient orchard's pale, And bid his country's armies be
The blackbird, Scotland's nightingale, Unmatch'd on shore, supreme at sea
Sits sioging, and responses sound

We marvel at the thoughts which climb Froin every grove and garden round. Above our nature, bright, sublime,

As of the immortal, Milton sings, When worldly strife is hush'd, and all His muse on angel-pinion's wings With Music's murmuring, dying fall, Aspiring high, till Heaven above The air is stirr'd, how sweet to rest,

See:ns link'd to Eurth with chains of love.


FROM THE RECENT UNPUBLISHED JOURNAL OF S. BENSON, ESQ. THE “law's delay" was never yet jury ; if human judgment was less a subject of complaint in the Bar- liable to error or the impulse of pasbary States ; here, on the contrary, sion, perhaps amongst an uncultiit may be seen the “ law's des- vated people, such assumption of patch” is the most to be dreaded ; authority would be less objectionaa great inconvenience in criminal ble : but it is generally attended cases, where the innocence of the with the worst consequences. Exparty is sometimes made manifestecution of the law also follows so only after the loss of a limb or a hard upon the sentence, that the head. The sovereign here unites criminal is often hurried from the in his person the office of judge and presence of the judge to suffer its

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