Several other appearances of spirits might be pointed out as among the most sublime passages of Ossian's poetry. The circumstances of them are considerably diversified; and the scenery always suited to the occasion. ❝ Oscar slowly ascends the hill. The meteors of night set on the heath before him. A distant torrent faintly roars. Unfrequent blasts rush through aged oaks. The half-enlightened moon sinks dim and red behind her hill. Feebie voices are heard on the heath. Oscar drew his sword." Nothing can prepare the fancy more happily for the awful scene that is to follow. "Trenmor came from his hill, at the voice of his mighty son. A cloud, like the steed of the stranger, supported his airy limbs. His robe is of the mist of Lano, that brings death to the people. His sword is a green meteor, half-extinguished. His face is without form, and dark. He sighed thrice over the hero : And thrice, the winds of the night roared around. Many were his words to Oscar. He slowly vanished, like a mist that melts on the sunny hill." To appearances of this kind, we can find no parallel among the Greek or Roman poets. They bring to mind that noble description in the book of Job: "In thoughts from the visions of the night, when deep sleep falleth on men, fear came upon me, and trembling, which made all my bones to shake. Then a spirit passed before my face; the hair of my flesh stood up: It stood still, but I could not discern the form thereof: an image was before mine eyes-There was silence, and I heard a voice-Shall mortal man be more just than God?"* LESSON XC. The Dungeon.-LYRICAL BALLADS. AND this place our forefathers made for man! Each pore and natural outlet shrivelled up His energies roll back upon his heart, *Job iv. 13-17. And stagnate and corrupt; till, changed to poison, Seen through the steams and vapour of his dungeon, Unmoulds its essence, hopelessly deformed With other ministrations thou, O Nature! way; LESSON XCI. To the Rosemary.-H. K. WHITE. SWEET Scented flower! who'rt wont to bloom On January's front severe, And o'er the wintry desert drear To waft thy waste perfume! Come, thou shalt form my nosegay now, And I will bind thee round my brow; And, as I twine the mournful wreath, I'll weave a melancholy song, And sweet the strain shall be, and long The melody of death. Come funeral flower! who lov'st to dwell With the pale corse in lonely tomb, And throw across the desert gloom 1 Come, press my lips and lie with me And hark! the wind-god, as he flies, Sweet flower, that requiem wild is mine; The cold turf altar of the dead; My grave shall be in yon lone spot, Where, as I lie by all forgot, A dying fragrance thou wilt o'er my ashes shed. LESSON XCII. A Sabbath in Scotland.-Persecution of the Scottish Covenanters.-GRAHAME. It is not only in the sacred fane, That homage should be paid to the Most High: Nor yet less pleasing at the heavenly throne, Or bleat of lamb, or hovering falcon's cry, Stretched on the sward, he reads of Jesse's son ; And wonders why he weeps; the volume closed, Thus reading, hymning, all alone, unseen, They stood prepared to die, a people doomed Was bliss. Long ere the dawn, by devious ways, O'er hills, through woods, o'er dreary wastes, they sought The upland moors, where rivers, there but brooks, Dispart to different seas. Fast by such brooks A little glen is sometimes scooped, a plat With green sward gay, and flowers that stranger seem. Amid the heathery wild, that all around * Pron. meekle,—much. + Mounted, belonging to the cavalry, And on the distant cairns the watcher's ear* But years more gloomy followed; and no more Of night, save when the wintry storm raved fierce, LESSON XCIII. The Baptism.-WILSON. It is a pleasant and impressive time, when at the close of divine service, in some small country church, there takes place the gentle stir and preparation for a baptism. A sudden air of cheerfulness spreads over the whole congregation; the more solemn expression of all countenances fades away; and it is at once felt, that a rite is about to be performed, which, although of a sacred and awful kind, is yet connected with a thousand delightful associations of purity, beauty, and innocence. Then there is an eager bending of smiling faces over the humble galleries-an unconscious rising up in affectionate curiosity-and a slight murmuring sound in which is no violation of the Sabbath sanctity of God's house, when in the middle passage of the church the party of women is seen, matrons and maids, who bear in their bosoms, or in their arms, the helpless beings about to be made members of the Christian communion. Sentinels were placed on the surrounding hills to give warning of the approach of the military. |