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p ^ 

'f * N > *^ : 








CHBKxiur aud xiiziulZT 


The especial object of " The Am0L£t" 
is to blend rdigbas insteaction with Htenury 
ftmnsement j^ so. that every article it contains 
^hall bear^ either directly or indirectly, some 
.moral lesson which may impress itself strongly 

* The nature and object of " The Amulet" have been 
hs^ipily defined by the Editor of the Literaiy Gazette^ in 
the following paragraph : "Its tone certainly is, upon the 
^whole, serious, but it is far from bang dull. It is religir 

ous^ but it is not 'intolerant: indeed, it takes no side in 


polemical questions. It is moral and instructive ; but we 
are inclined to think, that the beauty of some of its parts, 
•and the agreeable variety of the whole. coUectipn, will 
render its precepts more useful than if they had been put 
into sterner foims."— ZiV. Gaz^ Nov. 12, 1^25. 



on the mind by means of the pleasing lan-^ 
guage and interesting form in which it is 
conveyed; for it is not sufficient that onr 
amusements shonld be merely harmless^ when 
they may, with so mnch effect^ be made to 
forward the grand end and aim of our being. 

' . The extensive pnbli<; patronage enjoyed by 
the first volurae^ and the almost nnqui^fied 
praise it received in nearly all the Metropio- 
ittaji and Provindal Magannes and Jonrmia, 
pojaviikce the Editor that his plan was jndicions^ 
and that his endeavours were, at least in some 
degree, snccessfal. 

These gratifying circumstances have natu- 
rally stimulated the Editor and the Pbblishers 
to still greater exertions 5 and they believe 
there will be found in the volume for the pre*- 
'Bent year, a manifest improvemeilit in every 
respect. It will be perceived that the greater 

• •• 


proportion of its literary contents kas been 
contribnted by the most admired antliors in 
the country 3^ and ik»t tbe.eipbellishments^ 
both as r^ards tbe work of tbe aitist and 
that of tbe en^ver, are of tbe yery bigbest 

Tbe Editor^ tberefore> proud of tbe support 
be bas received from so many distingnfebed 
individnsds^ confidently submits tbe Work to 
tbe public^ satisfied tbat be bas done all in bis 
power to render it wortby of tbat success 
wbicb be ieels justified in anticipating. 

. •> 

* It may be necessaiy to state, that the Poemis by 
tbe later Mn. Hewy Jighe, tbe aniable and hishly-^tod 
author of " Psyche," were pxesented to the Editor by 
one of her nearest relatives ; and that tbe Essay by Miss 
fidffnrorth w«u the gift of a litexary friend. With th^ 
exceptions, each s^rticle was. received from its, Attth9f« 
expressly for publication in this Work. 




It is unneceBsary to state that the call for a Second Edi- 
tion of this woxk, was seaicely anticipated by its Editor ^nd 
Publishers, — nevertheless, within a month after it was is- 
sued to the public, they found that the number they had 
pnntbd was .totally inadequate to supply the nu^^y orders 
that pressed upon them. 

They ;hs^Ta.|]ieref9re fek bound \a 'irepiinithjB'yohimeyrrT- 
and have talL^ especial care that its n^ts shall in no. way 
delerioratiB. The few typographical errors that unavoida- 
bly crept into the work, have been carefully rectified, and 
the Engravings, all of which are on «/ce/> will be found by 
no means injured. 


It only remains for the 'Editor to express his deep 

sense of gratitude to the public, by whom his labours have 

' been so amply rewarded, and to those conductors of the 

- several Magannes and Journals to whom the work is much 

indebted for its reputaiioD and suooess, 



Blachavas . tlie Pilgrim to the Holy Land. By Jotiah 

Conder • . • , ,1 

Allan Lorimer. By Hie Author of "Llgbts and Sliadowa 

of Seottisfa Life,** &c. . . ■ . . . . .9 
The Drought. By James Montgomery . . . .38 

The Cottage Girl. By F. H 81 

The Hour of Prayer. ByMra.Hemans . . . .81' 

Sonnet. By John Holland 88 

Some Account of the Armenian Christians at Constanti- 
nople. By the Bev. Robert Walsh, VL. D., late Chaplain 
to the British Embamy at Constantinople • • .84 
The Restoration of Israel. By the Rev. Geo. Croly . 6S 

A Lament. By Mrs. Opie 06; 

Sonnet to a Young Lady, with the Flora Domeatlca. B^ 
the Author o/"3!beLAboiira of Idleneaa** . . • ^ 




Sir Arthur Woodgtte : a Story of the BeigB of Heoty VIII. 

BytheAnthorofMayyoallkelt** . . 09 

SoniKet. By the Key. Charles Strong • . • • 94 
The Mviyr*! Child. By tlie Ber. T^ Dale . . .95 
Hilton's BllndneM. By George Bromby - . 97 

On meeting some Friends of Touth, at Chrttenbam, for 

iSbB first time since we tMrted at O^ftird. By the Bev. 

W. L. Bowies . . . ' . . . . . .98 

Sonnett By Mrs. Josiah Conder 99 

Warnings. ByL.A.H « MO 

May-Day in the Village : a Sketch. By L. A. H. . . 101 
The Old Mald*s Prayer to Diana. By the late Mrs. Hettry 
' Tighe •.*.»...<.. 107 
Caione, or Funeral Song (imitated from the Irish). B^ ^ 

Joseph Humphreys ' . • . . '• • . .109 
The Eyenlng Star. ByB. A. L. * .' .' .' . .112 

James Morlanii, the Cbttager. B^yF. D 114 

Restoration of Malmesbury Abbiey. By the Act. W. L. 

Bowles • '. : ' ' . .121 

The Cross in the Wilderness. By Sirs. Hemans . .123 
Tears and Sighs. By Rfchard Ryan . . . . .128 

The Pastor of the Lac de Jonz 129 

Hymn. By John Bowring .141 

The Mother tried. ByP. D. . . . . . .142 

Hynin of the Archangels. (From the Prologue in Goethe's 

Faust.) ByS. E. . . . ' 143 

The Chalk.Pit. (A true Story.) By Miss Mitford . . 145 
A Colloquy with Mytelf. By Bernard Barton . . 154 

The House on the Moors. A Tale. By Mrs. Hofland . 158 


AnEiiltBph. •ByS.-K.'F. '• '• . . • . 177 

TheOrborDsy. By John Bowziog • • • • • 178 
Th«6hipwreckecL 'By Ij. Aw>H» < • • .* • • 179 
Tbe Parewell SaroMm. ByD. 0. B. ••• • .184 

Linei to a Brambles ByThomuWUhinsoii .. • .196 
TbeViieBd« ByJ<Bobf » . ... .188 

DoiMitiA'yirtae. (•SlMldbMst.} ByHCary XiMURMattr .801 
file ChaogVk By the Ber. Beniy ftlebliliig • • • 1 Sift 
Mses mitten, at ETening, In Jerpoint Abbey •• • ■ .818' 
^iie liily ^f lion. 'By the AntfMr «f t'The.SAbonn of 

Idleneai^^ • • ; ^ • • • . • .817 
Seoaet. By Miae Hitford •«••••. 886 
The Ben -at Sea. By Hi*. Hemane . . * • • .887 
"Levett4hoa*ine)*' By James Mdutgomery « .888 

The Inflnenoe of Bzample. By fhe Bev. 'J. Thoittlon . 2S8 
The fichool-boy. ByR.V. . » . • . •819 

On tile -Death of Eensf A4dittKton. I^eclanefe, Eeq. By 

Thomas Gent / r * t . • • • • . 8&3 
A Sketch frMtt'Beal-Lifej By John Lnecombe . . 8M 

Sonnet to a Tonng'Lady. By John Clares the Northamp- . 

tonshtre Peaeanfi . • • . • • ; ,261 
Ode to the Bnins of ItaUca. (From the Spanish of Rioja.) 

Byadisttngaighed living Poet ' . • . . ,263 

Christ 9^iHlug the Tempecit. By Mrs. Hemans . . ^67 

A Tale of- the French Revolution. By an Old Traveller , 269 

'Sketch of -an Bvenfng Scene. • By the Rev. Thomas Dale . 878 

The daptlves' Song. By Henry Neele • . % .SSI 

The Lark. By G. 8. 283 

VIsit'to an Irish Cabin. By L. AH. . . . « 284 


The OfMpfOf t^» Day. 3y^ AiittMV«f *^iaw X«bffPim ,. 
Iif|dleae«a". ........ ,..|»9 

Oni^PoTe. By 8. . « ..,4 «i . .., ., ..^9^ 
Os Xrench Oaqu. (Written i« the Tew 1816.) By U^^ . • 

S48ewoirlh ^ « . »■• •>. -. i*-. 899^ 
Beeohree. Byl^U. If. •«•.-«. • « 8M 
Tk» Founteln iff Mttak*^- By Ifrt. Hmtfw .8(9 

Zton'e Daug^hten. ByJ. Boby • • • . -.<888^ 

SMDiM. .ByH.G.DMklli '• • -• « . -• • 8l9r 
PerMiiiig Besoty. By Uatittgim Sc||M«r • « •'819 
TbB ChUdren of BaTendale, By the Author. of "The 
DnkeofMantaa? • • • • i • • • 808 

The Witch's Oideal, A Drainetle Sketch* By MIm B. 

Boberts • • « ^ • • . • • • ,884 
From the Persian* By the Rev. Thomas Greenwood • 848 
Fsahn CXXX|II. By Josiah Conder .... 841 

The Morning Ramble. By the Re?. F. A. Cck, LL.D. . 843 
Wishes. By If. E. L. • .. . . . « .848 

Messiah's Advent. ByM. . » .851 

Time shall pass away. By James Edmeston • . • > 858 
The Song of the Little Bird } a Legend of the South of 
Ireland : with some Remarks on Irish Holy Wells. By 
T. Crofton Croker .-.!..;:. 855 
The Roses. By J. P..GoUier . ' . a . . 809 
The Sleeping Infant. By William Upton . . .868 

Luold. By Edwin Atherstone (.;•;. S64 
Christ Cmcifled. (Imitated Arom the Italian of Gabriele 
Fiamma, a poet of the 16th century.) By James Mont- 
gomery ... ^ ..... . 868 


The SaToyards. By A. M. H. . . . , . . M7 
On B Nlght-btowlng Cerens. By tli* late Mn. Henry 

TIgbe 874 

The Spirit of Nature. By Bobert Bell . . . S77 

Autographs . ,• • S79 

Ev«Ding Landscape. By the Author of '* Myrtle^Lesvee** Ml 

Written on the Annlrersary of my Birth-ni^t, idien en* 
•teriiig my Thirtieth ITflar. By Xngenina JRoche • ■ ...884 

ThatFielon. . By Mn. OUVert • • .» •. ..807 

Thm Alblgensea. By the Bev. W. 8. QtOf . > « 48P 


1.— BlacbaTM, tiie Ptlgrim to the Holy Land.-^BiigraTedty7 
tliarles BoUs, firom a Drawing by B. WertaU, E. A.p-^nmtla: 

, II.— Vignette.— Engraved by H, Bobinson, from a Dntwlng 
by H. Corboold. 

III.— The Cottage Girl.— Engraved by W. Flnden, from • 
Painting by H. Howard, B. A. 

IV — Sir Arthnr Woodgate.^Engraved by W. Ensom, from 
a Painting by F. P. Stephanoff. 

v.— in the Viaage.— Engraved by Charlea Heath, 
from a Drawing by H. Corbould. 

VI.— The Pastor of the Lac de Jonx.— Engraved by P. En- 
gelheart, from a Drawing by J. M. Wright. 

VII.— The Shipwrecked.— Engraved by E. Finden, from a 
Drawing by H. Gorbonld, 

VIII.— The School-boy.— Engraved by J. Bomney, from a 
Painting by B. Farrier. 

IX.— The Children of Bavendale.— Engraved by H. O. Shm- 
ton, firom a Painting by T. Stothard, B. A. 

X.— Irish Holy Well.— Engraved by Henry Wallis, from a 
Drawing by Penry Williams. 

XI. and XII.— Autographs of Bishop Foze, Bishop Boner, 
Lord Chancellor Gardener, Archbishop Land, Archbishop 
Juxon, Archbishop Tillotson, Archbishop Cranmer, Archbishop 
Usher, Cardinal Wolsey, Oliver Cromwell, Lord William Bus. 
sell. Lady Bachel Bussell, William Penn, General Monk, the 
Earl of Strafford, Queta Anne Boteyn, and John Milton. 

' / ^ M '/.f i 

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., , 1. .■>•■ t I <•. I • ' -I •« . :-'j' r .'( !•? »!• ." ,s-r" • , ' 

' ((I ■ ■' 5 ll .»•'.!, .1 • 

I! // . <j • ) i"r»» l>» ■■•I-.- r: ►= i.-i • n J i>. 


i,'i Y'i", ;.) I' «i ' .-lii «-i ■ I ; ." ^f .• i 

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1.1* ... 1" ■■ I" •' ! • ■• ' ' --. I 1 ll; •> /' 

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Blachavasy wiA his p ro to priikar, left Ida belorcil moimtains 
at fhe age of 0eTenty<«x, to Tuit tke Holy City on foot, and 
actually died at Jenunleni." 

Blieridan's ** Songi of Oroece/' p. xx>ii. 

Farewell to the land of my fathers ! Farewell 
To each snow-crested peak and each deep-shaded dell ; 
Where the torreni leaps wild, and loud murmurs the bee, 
And the mountains still shelter the bra?e and the free. 

Farewell to my comrades, my palikars brave ! 
Farewell, trusty musket, and patriot glaive ! 
Too feeble my grasp, too unsteady my aim, 
To my son I abandon the sword of my fame. 

Farewell the wild coves of thy desolate shore. 
Where the cliffit but re-echo the Triton's dread roar ; 
But there the free bark the proud Pasha defies, 
And tiie Mai'aote exuhs o'er his MuBsulmaxk igsnift. 


But whither lepairs he, the hoary klepht '( * 
And wherefore the land of his sires has he left ? 
And why for these weeds and this staff, laid aside 
His kilti and capote, and the sword of his pride 1 

At the tomb of his Savioar, all holy his vow, 
Ere Paschal-tide, must the pilgrim bow ; 
He must light his torch at the self-kindled flame, 
And bathe in the Jordan his veteran frame. 

The white walls of Akka lise £ur horn th« seia, 

And fertile and lovely thy plains, Galilee ! 

But the Crescent gleams baleful, where once the Cross 

And " the Butcher *' t succeeds to the Knights of St. J ohn. 

% Sepphoori'a pimiiibtowerB aio «tiU'|iroiti«te, her moum 
All lonely and sad, vad deserted her fouat ; t 
But the rick mosAA of Na8sra$«re joy«a»Mid ifeak, 
And the Latins exult o'er the orthodox Greek. 

* literally, robber ; a tifle borpo with pride by the guerillas 
of Greece. 

t Djezzar, late Pasha of Acre, whoee name, as explained by 
himself to Dr. .£. D. Clarke, sieaifies the Bntcher* 

X Scpphoria, once the metropolis of Galilee, appears to owe 
its present neglected state partly tothe pMfximity of NaaarelU, 
which has risen on its ru|uB. Abaiidoa«d by the Latiuas, th? 
modem village is inhabited chiefly by a few Greeks. 

$ Nazanrth. ■ • "" • 

BJkACUAVjkf. 8 

Full often tlie pilgrun tunu, weeping, to gaae ' 
On some column or tower of King Constantinfi^ c)ay»» 
Where the lonely palm waves o'er the mouldering stone. 
The altar subverted, the Cross oveithrown. 

But forgotten his woes, and o'erpaid hti fatigue. 
The rugged ascent and the vreansome league, 
When Solyma's towers stand revealed to his eight. 
And, bathed in the sunshine, seem glonoua with light. 

Blachavas has mixed with Uie holy crowd ; 
At each consecrate spot, has devoutly bowed ; 
Has kissed the cold marble with fervour sincere, 
And at Calvary's shrine shed the penitent tear. 

On Easter's glad mom, with the foremost he came. 
To kindle his touch- at the heavenly flame ; 
And he marched at the head of the Christian band 
Who have taken theii^ way for Jordan's strand. 

Oh ! fearful the route that those pilgrims have traced, 
The dizzy ascent, and the mountainous waste : 
Dark lowers o'er the valley the crag's naked pile. 
And the wild Arab lurks in the savage defile. 

No fear knew Blachavas, yet thought the old klepht 
Of the sword he once wielded, the land he had left 3 
Of each deep-^aded glen, and each siioW-cs«i\«dL\«^i^gE!i^ 
The haunts of bis childhood, the scenes oi >m Ta^\.% 


The desert is passed, but nor balsaEdt aor pabn 
EnlkeniB tbevaUey* or yields itSFKh balm ;• 
A^ dieaiy the plain whfere, thro' willowy brakes 
The Jordan still seeks the bitominou lake. 

But oh ! with wiiaita|iMre the pdgriaas rush in. 
To lose in its waters the stana of tiieir sin ^ 
With fond.8aperetitian4lMrganiieiit they lav«> 
Thesi last sad apponA when <di«8aedfor thegrsre. 

Blachavas has baiciioct; sokl, tbe titirtbeompietev 
Those waters faaTtt-haliowed'htB-wiading^heet* 
His step is yet finn^ and -bis^lieart is sttU stitM%r 
But that garoKint of de8cth'i^atir*ao« fie by him kmgv < ' 

Howweloome, oiiiW4noie/itoffigire«i<Mitet^^ei^ - 
Thy towers, O Jtfrttsaleiii, gtewiii^ wtdk light ) 
Yet kingdoms and Mas hUve those pilgrims- to roam ^ 
But there's #eBt Iblr Blachavas, and daife islM iiotae. 

And where' would he <:^ieose that lus 'dust should repose 
But here, where his Saviouri once dyi said wmm ? • - 
Yet dear is thd land whioh no mora he must sc»; 
And his last recoUectioBS am, H^iasl of theft. ' 

• The valley of Jeridio, "the city of pahAs,"— obce ^unotis 
4tt its balMin>toeea. 


• 'ALLAH UOmmmt: ^•='' -'-' ' ■» 

BY THE AtVtKm'dr'^ W»Wn M90i-8KkMm9t09*' 

fasaiwi and iWBd».m»iapiyiii<»A^aiif piiifii ithafeiii«niuW» 
beawtifiil fvtf.'to'ibt Jfrptob .Mid.i«h|»i.lh«^ii«H(iio£lte 
•childmii of >toU /sodi poiel%H4it»f:^t o^ftYVQiWiM^lo 
their lot| bat feel it, in perfect 6ontentBienty to be tihe 
happiiet tho- ^liiavft»wBpHbiiih^iier bwr< i i rt4 lin^r AUfP 

which it rote, as it prerented the plough from tuiiuBg over 
a lMr;-fuiniwi!frf»i.h8*1iiolii'iifl^ mi^* 

iti endlcUog faeMOdiM.): ,19MilRUii9QrJMK«&Qf.|;f|9t,l»||l 

come upon, hini* fa6ed]e8B'«f itft. »p|vv««4^ I^U>.il«#pg 
on his maltoidL»>he. Airistandiiic^.jbeiiildbm W^nkfx 
ttilk-can and baaket of oatmeal cakea, hia little aiatQr 
Anna, -whone figure at the same stated hour let fall its 
sbiKilow qon the IfmU yfhp» be.M for ^ne^sb^ IT^Vf^M^* 
as duly as the hand on the dial-atone in thfliik«»ttigBtdafeii 
The kving creature sat down before bis ieet, under the 



sbadoiv of'thG'ma^ Mrib-tfaat yet was «pvei; and after 
ptame nraa nidr aad ati the wkile uncooacioiialy- pkyii^ 
witk. tbe uprdotod^VRiidi^owBrB^ bIm sang^ vithoafc bkldiiigv 
first oiie And Aen ^jootharof faw brather'B faraunte ballads^ 
Just as flhe began to ang, so did a lark thai had hosa 
ipalkiiig vnAobtfaikt dofift bosideittKiifc #i»^ aki.Iea» and 
M% tfafifdoeediltTheir'tBnai^ .•Amu^}Km»t^kfX tAmmmLhuie 
bMD^siajgHlg §K^Ao^tkoaM^Km, tasithedadi; hAdinisfaicd his 
jimmcy>t» loA-im^^ih^ihBmaBrrmiA dmpt:<ia silenee 
just as she.heiseil 'vras ^iSient. Has bibther did not thank 
Iws/'aa.iiMiuiK' lbr>her clmfet^8•Dgl^ nocfia^ tsgufcfi his 

4ij^ oraiAiiiiedrrfined^'flD 'tilfe itefamchr, 't]}at.-jAQi)id\vitib atri 
siiireatlililafkfitcrthtei.lh^>fiBii( pme-ir4es>< ind^dnatte 
pia3rf^lly«Jeantii^ptoti his shotdddr^.aadl vaibied .natoiiflB 
of >« raenry JnadvciMrstJll^ t4|A faofied bbhs oimSi 
end ^Pi^'WH-l^^ iy^gtiy ^'itrtiiTOgwtfltifff wfinfiwd no-^ 
At laist, rising up, and'.'liiingi'his 'liaiiia mtAtyt^ean im 
bttm»){ he{iexdlaiBaidl^^)t(aau:fto«(t *£adierh i6 it/iha /thy 
will, asfcepliliwrasiirfierittatirfthgn^H*]^ vn / 

wasi otteMi ftaf»tbe>lha^ it ^^eatluab hair been -'hmg 
ffBdBting |it'luii'heBMv<|nd ipi! actfrner :fmt^\ad givcDtft 
AmIot xtf '^siomali^itoxfais /TBW>tosBy)ftrbcBffiag^h«rt;tari- 
AMbg Jby) 4iiiriKtf » a;t>Mk^ito nfaia > latfiei^ 
is^lMtMfrtoir^ittl)^ ^n^^mkktk fft>fMU!dBc<fecttig'iiiufe 
hiiijda)3P',bnith0F<diedf 4Lhd-(iftiSDi^('a^>he-ih^^ towards 
4li0i>nofikran the eharob-^iaM wfajV0'Afa«b^diea7'«Hkipani«D 
lagrv'it atenialtdluin ^mI bo'to^AiigfaliibaManeaistadflat,' 

ABILUI bOKnuiv. 7 

^Mi, .NfDilofitii^i& idMi riiPDMitMiiiltaVlni iooienlfilniM 

l i iufc i ln ?ofi^tr. iiBiBiBt ptdM^tiiv>(mnB8W«f ^itavAtar, 
«i«kiaD tlwadnfiahiBlldnt ■mir »rtii»o't|iMiih n\AaiUiwiv 

had .gaiiMk »i iwiMi dbi fia -mmi^iwMAi»ikumi» tjUJiliigr 

toVBled cbBi9aicrifcjpriigt«i)kis»hiai*i---ahB i«icf olillif 
kikitixirliei«aDPM>-'lU codiig.ii£j|lM^J8viihiiB>did.bdfty«#t 
titt AadMr ofelfae«ywto»8r Jfl f ho w d ofoBodwH thfcin ii nij ^ 
*MtfttiiiMri^taHMwi>4ih» bitnadt^Kttid iHMttailvite ftittwat 

^^^^^^^^•^^»^ V^^^^^^^B^HV^ ^^V^*^^^^*V^^^^ ^^^^^^V V^F^^Bi^^^^^^^^ ■*' VV^I^V^V ^^^^^^F^^W^^^^^^^^^_ ^^ " ^^B^l^^^ ^^^P^^^^^^^V ^^^^V 

Us liBMliek>'«'lKiyU;ioBiiHii&idife wi04iC:iaBiM^ ted 

BHAflijetaib «&«■ becedbiitiiii thai Bddi* nll&atiittDgQ 
tJud.iadtkB^ -iiAea imi iiptf tiM y .* gttog 'ico, .-naa: wfir 
cMBfteB^iiatadiftovi tiwiiliijwii ihm rnankiifwiii itiifdf duf 
dicate^)toltlatinwfe6£ih»*JtfiftoB.s .- j; ::.->'( .-.»« •/ 
9 iIVIMiDhdt rfTniiTiiirii*Tih4'Hi'TiMliitiftir »nT**tm pnentm 
it may be.MMdf41|i*(ihen» iiataftrtM(Dg^JD9Blinr>£Br ,i*9Cf 
Xiuii ^VIHiaai'faadiliMitekte M tt w^imSm ^wedBKirftetf his 
adniiafliaB' later Uidg^'oidfeftl; :aatahad^tfaat iiiftni rdnrliM 
iaffiacdj Mni lai ^^pan. hia hpb balflM»'fai^^ aad'amr* 
tfaal'AaatfiutfbiebddiBr fii iiai ijj i ndxaritbaonaia^ 9aeythmk 
alflddidinKaMiBg? 9myiitiJUka(it*^yi^^<»k^1kKikH^iMlkM 
faU0gi«d.Uftdiiaoia tm 4^ «TiahrtoBe»*** ^ i^ieaabBntfiJOiar 
QOKfAif I > KtaaeEBfid > noir ihaiUea^ieai .had< fixu^iz^ the^ 
jBaalto^rtiwar «i»baisnag flonr^ :Ko doidiis, ao imia^gnringit 
Wtoat^beia^} jUthaugh aa'«reas«Mi • had thef im ttaBp,^ 

6 Aftl/AK fcOMMSffc. 

Itrlhef anroigs fof' iMagr ytanhlulgonfi tathe icdociitiiB 
ofiihflttiwho had iMentalten -uvi^ti yetAhflcttibadnbeeBi 
aadM^vierj'Woiild'-be, a Uestu^ip oalhft fawifitldai<f 
Hda^finei ;that.j|a§r MiMGoelljR flhtltanBdiitBilke.siiM^ 
louth ; and the father, while he lifted up his haiid0t:to 
kaavieD; iiBH«i<il>etieiigth.' woe added* to iaU ihe<eatth, 
anui' iBaiiBuiiyoim^vw xoHonHi* 

• jUton^ooBtiBiMd t^voifeio theifieUa as befofei^cdans er 
«ntk hwi«tfanr,«<'-Hiiiiy alnel0>h«Bia»i: tB3i»J8imci8e.ketras 
al'histeoks, ettdati«v«BB^'t|n. village whocimastBr, aa 
wwimfchetof, todbdalini^-valhhiDij 4afciQgi«iptka.Biil)jeels 
irimtei hi8^.dafrflBK!idribiiBtheylttd;irflibBin»} aad iisingidB 
vctames/he had beqoeathad.^ How slow tba^goaasiof the 
kHiBiOr iodifieidBtt !>. /• Bati iman»'^o<a9b^v*ith>fas otherlesi- 
iug^t atodied a» UMtenae]^ eren aji^b&comritst^ ifhtt ikiMnm- 
lag' thOiiday.^he is to^iiiiey/ibofteifiist .tiaaft bcgias j|D).lewii 
■the mf hlphaibeU'thaiihe magir bftidbla .lo lead rthe .Bible 
before ts^jkobiioni htaocUi) .>Naifeara>haidigH«iihtlii8tioiig 
laaduiiite otalenls, ilhat » hikd liadeedl beeq i ihentditeiytiki he 
•hnmUe itesw . And' )dien,»;iwhcn^ aat«n the fdom that 
.had heao Ub hialhea^flt aU ifaiaiEMniltittliweie eipaa^ed •^ 
attt^isfdiUngahacaaieaMne elevated atidtpttn^ <iiieoftan 

beatdrihis-voicb «^ he eometinieft aatw his £Eu;e, pale brit wiih 
. a iSwilfrMaDd. fi^aii at n^tlie setamed' tfaaid» to 6ediftt 
ittiapaigvitojQf theday, be coeid have thought iw the daik 
lihatbe-waa kneeling at Us brothsi/s aide, ashe uaedtto <k> 
tHben H little boy. . Thaa Jbefenft* 4lpe.eem ^mavtadDdd/ aad 
'thei iaglfii ahone al unerry . barvesft^henie,' Alhui Loiimefwas 

i^lMgo toffoUeg^ witbittt thasaing.faif pitoeptoii^«iiMP«he 

AULAJf ix>Riira]i. 9 

tkouTor the liWn^,^^ and ta college lie went, vriA a Vkm^ 
iag from those to whose grey fawrs be was to hnt^ the 
halo that i» indeed divine-^ the light of haoovrwhkh a 
dutiful Mm sheds round the tsmples of those who gave 

The son of poor parents, fMm a ronole part of the 
oountiy, and altogether iuiknown> withsot intssdnofion ts 
one living soiil» with manners and sppmanoe wldcb, 
aithongh not wantrngin noilusal- graces, w«ie ytt ftmm 
etea to m^aaty, andsdisfSMiiisBsosaewhat letuing, not 
in pride hot aid^)eiidenoe,^^lDr a little whUe AilanLonaer 
attracted not die aHaatien'cithei^tof faib tsaBhenoc Mlew- 
studeratsi Baft as iths sessian adw m csd, his naaim 
began to emesge finas the'oro^d.;) and beioie the Ghnst* 
BO* holidays he muidislingusliedsot ealjas anassidnoas 
bnt eoooeasM schnbr/ Some few tingeriBg lesoemhianoeii 
of his hmthof^s acadifaiiflsl fimie stillsamvedt and now and 
then «hler sladenis* fof hii sake.' made voltnitBnr twK^ }i # 
ef theb fnendsfaip. The Spring found Idb no longss a 
solttaiy bemgy study mg. in the atasflsopaaioned |>assiop 
of l O Bs ri n dg e within hisdka<ceU> bntelale in hope and 
amfaitioii that daily bcwigfat their own itwaid. Nesv 
worlds opened before his imi^natient and his inteUest. 
Xhiaga foiBBCifydavk aiad; oltoDe^ grow clear and blight ; 
feeling hept pace with tfaonight ; and as he. became 
acquainted widi (be spisitsef the dead, his heart glowed 
with finer, dseper sympathies > widi the living. He felt 
Mm that he had gained a firm iboting, and tlmthis 
Bsuiicww rapidly progssasivc. He watted the cdlage- 


ocNtfts mm erect ; not a shade of fear en* despondency 
clouded his intellectual countenance ) and he looked -vrith 
a bold eye on the graat city's throng, confident that he 
would one day achieve the honourable, the holy object of 
his soul's desire. The Winter, with all its long, dear 
devoted nights, many of them utterly sleepless, so haunted 
had they been with the vcHces of bard, orator, and philo- 
sopher of oldy nor less with ** those strains that once did 
sweet in Si<m glide" — the Winter was over and gone, and 
with all his human aflfections strong as dealii, Allan 
Lorimer returned to the humble house of his parents. 

It was on the cotter's Satttnkiy**night that he returned ; 
and he had lingered for a while in the litde dell with its 
broomy bi&es so close to the house that the waterfall was 
heard within, in order to rdieve his heart of its exceeding 
joy, and also that he might cross the threshold at the well- 
known hour of pxiayer. His father had just iypened the 
Bible ; there his mother sat sedate ; and Anna's sweet 
£ace was in the idiade of her devout sim|^ity. Belbre he 
couH speak) the eyes of the £aimly vrere turned toward 
him ; and it vras move th&n an hour before they attempted 
to sing the psalm. The voices of the parents £iBtfaltered> 
th^ were mute ; bat no nightingale on earth, no lark in 
heaven, ever poured out such melody^ 'as that child ii&* 
joicing by her brother's side in her evening hynma. 

And did Allan Lorimer continue to love his father's 
house, those that dwelt therein, and all Xbea lowly way», 
and all their meek virtuosi Had he communion with the 
thoughts jdeaiest to> them, and tiuit filled up the meaaim 


of their oonleBled existence t Could he turn from thoM 
glorious bo<»kiS thatunficMedto him a intiw heing, with all 
theb ajB8«aiiUages.coiiaecrated in the lifht of ftntiquity, to 
the humble ciealures tktiiig silent, or with i&w wotds, by 
the ingle-ftkle, wearied with toU, and ready at night-fall 
ibrtiittrdzeaiiidesa sleep 1 Yes, Ae roof of heaven, wtdi 
all its Stan, was not to him more beautifiil Uian the roof 
of the hut in wlweh ha was bom. Not all the fidds of 
£ly«i«m eontained a spot so blessed as the fieMs where, 
for bis dymg bn^her, ha had so often wept ; where, with 
his father, he had walked in the calm of so many sabbath-> 
evoiings,. and worled thiottgh so many week-days, heed- 
less alike of sun or storm. And What jras the little he 
knew, or nught enx know, wben* set beside ^at know- 
led|ps in wIbg^- his fttilfer, md his mother, and his sister 
irafted befeve God I -^leniofe did Allan Lorimer again 
pnt on the dress of a tiller of ike gnmnd : his nght-hand 
had not forget its-cunning : and when the meadows by the 
biim-ada were heavy with Midsummer, the wide swadie 
feH beneath his sweeping scydie ; whSe his father, not yet 
My but somewhat ^edined, took the lighter tad^ widi 
Anna, who was growing to womanhood visibly before 
their tiyes. The neighbours saw lite youth working like a 
hired servaat beneath a kind master's eye, and not a 
tongue in the parish was sflent in his praise. Eveiy body 
prophesied good of such a son ; and many prayed that the 
good old minister might be spared till Allan Lorimer, one 
of thonselves, and bom and bred like themselves, might 
bfrbis aacoessor. Thus vnnter after winter, summer after 

12 ILLAN LORlflfllR. 

siHMner weni on ; waA Alba hmmm wwaour a^jpuo^ 
with aU tfa^inleUigience.and-kvdwledgft heconiog Juan-. 
iMod. There wa» no need noir far. him to woili OB.thci 
fiarm ; «viatt his lathee might <io a» «r wiU« foreiraiy;. 
thiag m towa and ODontiy had |M0pemd*r ^MiUera wa$ 
oeoaplete <OTm|ie*fewae at H^rim-Brae. It stfoed in * n^ 
gpuEdea^sofangMwastfaetcidtiiBalkpof.itsk^iKilpai^ th« 
old house* hfce its pqMe8aow,.wpw<ad ita.,|ro«lh ; the 
heritor waa new an elder ; iaaxiether year hissoa was tft 
becailed to the ministiy ; and the wbol«pari^ wasjwoxKi 

o£ lum fiiom hall to h«t« ^ 

One eveuiag, Allan JUmmec , was w^^ung .by , hio^s^f 
neai the old Castle, that was suH ieb^i^ hftl^ famjljf 
to whose aoeestflia it liad^ ,in9My g^i^^f9$iom helopged* 
when h« net teveral fwqpna .hvcryiog:aiN^>.ip gveat 
distraction. From' thenii he kmjn^ tjMi^l the j^ung . .hepr 
hadcUnhed up to adaa^iroBaiiBigl^.^n .tl^e ^^^Si^.and 
that it was found im^oaeible to eMftd him. anjr 9i^i^fu;\^ 
On amving at the foot ol the zwsk^ AllaA.^Sjw^th^ 
motheri and.isislet, all gazing .i« desjiaii; p^,^ .jr^iV^ 
who, paia^raed with §^$m, was/elingii^ te>ciB^..qf il)e 
leches, 9m tibeveiy hrinh of destiEvic^n* ,J» b^,hQ2)iq94» 
Allan X^rimer ^ad been of an..a4yeiitntons and 4»|iDg 
cbazacter; ami often in. search pf, Wi^rflq^iei!^; ;p|;,;Ui^ 
starling's nest» had he passed along tb«^face ff^ f^jfm^ 
/eipiee by paths where even the goat^ould have kff^^tfltf^ 
to clamber. In a few minutas he was by the side»of bii^i 
j^aoed in ench jeepasdy ; and thjen*. i seeousg ^ 'Vfkjfijjjiff 
words of enconragementi descended the rock, 9^4' be* 

life^mRddl^MfedU •Wiiii*tlk«lpimikpiitiid9.aBA4iciM» 

dift^' nit6 r iftei^ 4reitt, AHuaV: iohttM lor the youth'* 
|ir^Krt«(ioiiwas<e«rffjpAitt»«iftpU UdtaoBm^floendad^ 
sod' ftisieiiSB^ n tope wmddMMlyof fau^whoiiad^iMt 
dl p0Vi^d^ AmiMiif -hd^MMMd hiil4»w»ta[A.thM>d^ 
laAfm ii i r'^fadr «)tai4Miii, .'flotflMfaqaV but^ A daqipfisayer 
M tii[1trfbigf<fag'>i» ' dtMrna ice *^>^ ctiifandctprayar.«# 
WMdi; '^1^; idl '^elrdi^'^Mttift.t*^ sginming Mia the 
btesaedness that toie the hearti o^'theM liAohmi kml att 
hopig, inA n^ pMited^tftok htei mUie ahMit jaiittu- 

lot^' sIMt^ed ftcMtleadi. ' * 

'-'HM :AHMr4ljMttir':hMik emit AiiniMi>in,.ii»t>— on< 
ktff4n %i*J*^i^^ethfc'tMtMt^%iiaitB> i^nfl inmlthMli^iipcwiBt 
to4h^ jitUfttb^'^eHMdAM^ iiAW'tbiitlbwvilieenAu^bMUtt 
tH^t in-tiie >fea^<(hitt-jdMb ^rai^Aiihenifis^Lebeiiflalwtep* 
andwel6Amel0'th6'G«ii8ftoaU.th6'#yB6fhii<ai^^ But 
AHanv 'aHhetaiglf houbfyt/ban/ imi jadeod iaiw.oC At 
e«|M6ial' fa^im^lei ^ MaHuia* . Ittppyiitt^hina beeu Ihc 
hiitrMiKatit etk^l0f^^^'^tcnMmc0iilB hnptAq life'tf 
a'M4i«iN«iiekt«k» >y«t he'Ml aaiddm^.tfaal.:thaae .wanae 
meH^' iii«%fattt>hlfiMI>'dMie-v «adiwitUoiil.>the.teUgfaattt 
«ttotftnMirfl(^aiif]ttiiAv heriinenMi ^jOm kmentgats^Kdt 
ofib^'j^lhV|)aicrtA8,width«.|iifiadiiof.t^ But 

^iSl»iti&pkmmhu3^>¥fm^i beiil*»4hey>rofler/fi«nL ^heat ku^ 
'to'bdiio<^airil««<e' Idieir'iMm^Siddiveitr^ aid nOoldihuii 
IMeMedbrti '4» * a 'MeodAlp that waa tteealdine jfGfc) jew^. 
Ti thfitti, ^ht9<cahii, Mdale^ ^<md.-ihwj>nfiAj0yeiu hiiii«i 


ezpressbn that seemed no less than angelical ; his feir 
solemn words turned their souls away from him, not in 
forgetfiilness, towards the throne of the Most High and 
Merciful ; and, unknown to each other, they at the same 
moment thought " what a friend may this man, so fearless 
in his faith, become to our beloved son, whose life,* before 
our very eyes, he has been chosen to save ! " 

So Allan Lorimer, after a few weeks, became an inmate 
of the Castle. To him was committed the charge of the 
high-bom heir's education, and before the first sabbath, 
he was beloved even as a brother and a son. Over all 
that dw^ing, and over the habits and mannen of ite 
possessors, there reigned that air of eleganoe> delicacy, 
and refinement, which perhaps is fiMind only in its per- 
fection among those who have been bom in more exalted 
life. But with that quickness of perception and feeling 
with which, along with all nobler qualities, he had been 
gifted by the prodigal hand of Nature, /he soon, almost 
instinctively, aoqwied that which he sought not to imitate ; 
while he lost nothing of that modest demeanour so becom- 
ing below the cottage roof — nothing of that respectful- 
ness in presence of high birth, which dignifies the in- 
dependence of humble life, and bestows on him whom 
it charactenxes, the charm of a touching propriety^ His 
new friends, who knew but little of the ways in whidi 
poor men walk, could not but regard with wonder mai^ 
neis by such slight shades distinguishable from their own ; 
while each successive day brought to light more and more 
of that worth .that m^s the man, and that, thanks be to 


Heaven, full frequently grows up to strength and beavty 
in the hamlets that spnnkle Scotia's long-withdrawing 
vales, or cluster round the spire of the village church. 

The young heir of that house was endowed with the 
virtues of hk auoeston ; hut his spirit had too long run 
riot in the unchecked wfldness of youth, and had heen 
in danger of yielding even to the seductions of vice* But 
now he tdt himself constantly in presence of a superior 
nature. It was impossible veiy grievously to disobey the 
mild command of that voioe and eiye ; and then the ie« 
memhrance of the hideous hour when he seemed falling 
down into death, came across him with fresh impulsQS of 
gratitude and affection. By degrees he flung aside all ca- 
price, all waywardness, all selfish will; grew enamoured 
of the liberal studies, williout which high rank isadis- 
honottr, and learned from the pure and pious life of the 
peasant's son, what are the essential and prime qualities 
of the gentleman. 

far aiid wide as the eye could reach from the battle- 
ments of the (4d Castle, lay the hereditary possessions of 
the famify ; but hitherto the youth had seen with little or 
no eraotira — perhaps scared^y notioed them — the smoke- 
wreaths rising up from the woods pr vales from a hundred 
cottages. Now, in company with his friend, he walked 
all over the domain, and, day after day, visited some te- 
nant's house. Everything he saw was wisely explained 
to lum, witiiout exaggeration or concealment, in the very 
light of truth. The joys and the sorrows of poor men, 
their happineas and their hardships, wore laid before the 


eyes of him whose privilege it was to reUeve or protect 
them ; and as his heart expanded with a wide and 
thoughtful humanity, he upbraided himself for his utter 
ignorance of his feUow-creatuies, and in no single tow, 
but in the calmness of habitual resolve, meditated gra- 
cious and beneficent plans for th^ comfort and welfare. 
In proportion as he loved was he beloved : the smiling 
maidens dropt their curtenes with a sweeter blosh as they 
met him on the braes ; and the old men bowed tbsar grq^, 
uncovered heads with more afiectionate reverence when 
the noble boy passed through among them along the 
clyirch-yard into the house of God. 

The gratitude of the poor, the feeble, the afflicted, was 
given to those from whose hands flowed the streams of 
charity and beneficence. Their j^yers, their blessings, 
were for that ancient house ; but the son of the peasant, 
their own Allan Lorimer, of whose famed learning Hd in 
the parish were proud — < the Christian, whose holy fife, 
young as he was, they held up as an example to their 
children ; neither was his name forgotten in their midnia^ 
meditations in the fields, nor in their morning and even- 
ing prayers, by the newly awakened or expiring heaith.*- 
" Ay, the Lorimers of Holm-Brae always watked before 
God, ever since the white head of him, who died in the 
cause of the covenant, lay on the greensward before his 
own door, drenched in a martyr^s blood. It seems that 
in these our peaceful days, the spirit of tiiat saint has 
descended upon him ; and the day may not be far distant, 
when we shall see him lifting up his hands in prayer 

AhtAV LORIMBfl* 17 

witto our owo church, and when our bills and vaUies, 
yea, the veiy lilies of the field, shall rejoice in the first 
Sabbath of his miaistiy 1 " 

There was no change in or about Hohn-Brae, except 
that fenile, and, to UiemaehpeB imperoeptible change, 
wMcb steals over a household leleased from, the pressure 
of povertj, and left at liberty to give outwasd expression 
to all their humble aflections. A neater book-case now 
held the old man's small HVraiy ; the linnets sung in a 
hawdftftwer cage s curtaim of a SQmewhat costlier material 
•sha4ciii the parlour window .; the entrafbce had its treUioed 
porch ; there was now Airegular avenue (foimerly a mere 
eiBtHToad) from the lane to the hoDse^ with a pietty white 
gale ; the garden wfts enlarged on its 9outhem exposure, 
by the breadlh of a fiower'^border ; the bee-hives stood 
beneath a little. strasv-roo^ shed ; and another, of liuger 
dJBttpnaionsj was. filled with anemoniea, auriculas, and 
ranunculuses, old Allan Lotimer being a fanoous florist, 
and now 9l kasfue to attend to ornamental gaidening, for 
which he had the native Scottish geni|ia« He saw his 
SOB removed into another condition of life, indeed ; but 
he felt thai the removal had. stceagthened all the ties that 
c ea ri n ue d to bind his heart to his humble birth-plaoe. 
£very Saturday night he was with his parents, talking of 
> fittmer years; and eveiy Sabbath he walked home with 
them from the kirk. Not one of his old friends was for- 
gotten^ and he sat among familiar faces in all the cotr 
'tages aiound, with perfect symfiathy with the thoughts and 
feel^iglk of their umple inmates, and deeply interested as 


18 AttJlM LOBfKAt« 

ever in all the on-goingi of lowly life. To \m eapfloiMrt 
mind the luial virtues appearad now in more affecting 
beauty : in the light of knowledge, the poor man'e iol| 
with all ks trials, was seen to be a lot of peace ; and as 
he sat beneath the shadow of the sycamore, the dreane 
of imagination blended with the holiest feelings of the 
heart la that pensive twi^ght, filial piety was indeed to 
him its own exceeding great lewaid ; for he knew that 
the household was bebvedof heuren ! • 

Allan Lofimer was now in holy otden» and about to 
be appcnnted suceesaor to the -old minisfter of his native 
parish, when his pajnl, who had for some months been 
unwell, ynn pronounced tu gone in a consnmption. The > 
anxiety of his pawnls was suddenly changed into despair^' 
and, as for his mother^ she seemed to be hmvyiag to the 
grave along with her 8on« The youth, whose finb fece 
now woie an uneixtUy beauty ->-80 sunk and yet so bright 
— and whose tall figure, in health so graceful, was afanost 
ghostlike in decline, never slept, night or day ; but, on 
the veiy confines of death, seemed inspired with a more 
restless animation. The brightest visions arose before his 
fancy, and he would speak with an eloquence o verpo w sN 
ing to the hearts that tenderly loved him, of all his aiiy- 
schemes and plans for that life, which others saw to be so 
near its dose. The very air he breathed made him m6re 
than happy— -wildly els^—- and carried him, as on the 
wings of hope, into the glorious future, without seemiiig j 

to tiead the earth. Oh ! sad, sad was the lustre of those i 

eyes to his father's soul ; for he knew that, ere long, it 


iMMldbe e^rngtiished in the diut. All saw that he was 
dyiogy except the joyoas victini hinuelf; and who could 
bear to break the grackma dehMtott of nature, and speak 
oC the grave to one whoee whole being eivevBowed with 
hfel Allan Lorimer availed hinualf of their how* of 
prayer to bring the truth slowly, calii%, and sdeninly 
befitae him ; and the same buoyant spirit that had made 
life so 'beautiful to his eyes, aisled him, afler*the dis- 
closure, to look forwaid um^pafled to death. The com- 
fotts.€f leligbn, a dmims l er ed by one who had to him 
been father, brother, andfiioEKi, ahMost entiiiely subdued 
thelndl and iirfucmal kngiags for life that beings of 
the dust retain «e long as ikm dwelling is oh the duAt. — 
Whila Allan LorisMv was in the reom with himv ^^ coun- 
teaaaoo aiwaya had a smile : an hour's' absence was like 
arokudtefero^dKStttt; aada promise had been made ->- 
ahdy premi8e**^that at the last he ^roald be kneefing at 
the bedsidB. O, Mind as the wonn ai« we, alfte in our 
hope.and our despair ! 

Xhe feliier of die dying boy was loth that he should be 
bnned in a foraagn land ; yet, sotnetimes in a dream, and 
e?«i when awake, he believed that the air of Italy might 
iQslfv&^hini, and that there, benea^ that gonial cfiiAato, 
he mi^ht be kept alive for years. Allan' hotitatr ^gl^ped 
atitibie same weak hope ; and as the suftrer was to any 
event resigned, a bhnd ferswell was taken— Oh 1 shall it be 
an eiwriasting farewell f — and they two sailed away togig- 
ther^iOn a»vsyage, as it might almost seem, to another wori<! f 

AU was stUl and silent about the Castto.' The lady 


never liAed up her liead, and no longer thought on her 
son u among the living. Her husband, in tending her 
sickbed} somedmes forgot him upon the seas* And ace 
there not strange, dim, and inoomprehenaible hopes that 
sometimes aiise «uddei^ in the inmost regions of our be- 
ing, unallied to reason that disowns them all, but that srill 
not be put down, no, not by all the death-pang agemes the 
soul c«li sufier, departing and again retormng, as if they 
loved the wrefcehed^^-even like beautiful white sen-biidB 
hovering in the gloom of the t^npest, and imwilling tor flee 
utterly away, even to a i^aee of rest 1 

At Hoim-Bne all was pcaoe» disturbed bnt bjF « 
thoughtful serrow* The ked of the Caate oflben eame 
and sat down beside ^ M people, leddng fat comfort 
in their faces, and iioding it in the habituid calmness that 
jcharacteiizes the whole manner of the pious poor. Fre- 
quently something like hope brtathed up through the hush, 
and aftor joining with the fann^le household in prayor for 
the dying — peihaps the dead — he knew not how it was, 
but in spile of all the pmdiotionaof the moat skilled^ and^ 
his own forebodings, he felt a sort of iwwtinetivB asmaneg 
that his son would return. " Not a foe is potoHt atnight 
in a single dweUii^ ioa all the palish^" wcadd the did man 
say, " till the inmates have kaek in pnyer to God for ^oor 
aoa i " And when he thought of this, and locked abroad 
.from his lugh window over tiie night-soene, he folt tiie 
infiaenoe of all those ascending prayers, and semembeMd 
Jhat mercy, to the eyes of us mortal creatorasy is the 
hdiest attribute of Him «rfaeinhebiteth£t6nuty« . 


• The tint letter that arrifed from abn)«d» was in tha 
hand-writiiig of their son ; and for a while hoth pavenla 
were without power to open it. It held out no hopes of 
his reco v ery, but breathed thronghout a perfect ^irit of 
resignation and gratitude. Day after day it was read over 
and over again, many hundred times, that some expres- 
sion, some one single word of comfort, besides the calm 
diaracter of the whole, might be detected and devoured. 
In a few weeks it was followed by another equally tran- 
quil; and the father thought^ but dmst not utter the 
diought, from fear that the very sound of the wonis would 
destroy it, that since deadi had delayed so long to strike, 
he might jet change his purpose and lay down the fatal 
dart A third letter came from his son, written it seemed 
wiA a firmer finger, and along with it, one from Allan 
Loiimer, cautiously ofemg hope along with consolation. 
The doleful gloominess of the earth and sky was on a sud- 
den lightened ; and when fether and mother knelt down 
tiiat night, they feh what thankless creatures th^ had 
been all their lives before, so blessed were their spirits in 
'the very sickness of gratitude to the great God. 

Meanwhile the worn and weaiy veyager had found rest 
in a sunny and sheltered Italian vale ; and such was the 
restotujtive delight of the cloudless climate, that, although 
in all humility he was prepared to die, the hope rose with 
the love of life, and tears began again to flow at the thought 
of depaiting into darkness from so beautiful a world. Few 
vAo had left their native land as he left it, had, he well 
knew, ever returned. Two or three months* sight of that 


heavenly sky, and their eyes closed for everf AHan 
Lorimer, in all his hours of languor, lassitude, and side- 
ness, was still beside his couch ! He understood every 
motion of his eyes and hands, and could interpret eren 
the sighs unconsciously made in disturbed sleep. Tiie 
sick-chamber was a jdace of nlence, but the hush was 
the hush of intense wakefulness, alive to the slightest 
stir, and ready in a moment to give the cup, or smooth the 
pillow. And when the voice of that watcher was heard, 
it was in itself a medicine, so cheering in its present 
meanings, so pleasant and so pensive with the music of 
remembered years ! Far away as they were from the Castie^ 
the youth, on his awakening from his day-sJeeps, oftaa for 
a while thoi^^ht himself in his own study at home ; for 
there was Allan Lonmer with a book in Ins hand, and 
none else be»de, and all peace and silence as in their lofty 
cell below the battlement. But the twitter of the martins 
was not heard, nor the thunder of the water£ill dowtn 
among the wooded rocks. 

Like flowers growing under the shadow of some M 
ruin, but not altogether unvisited by the sunshine^ and 
therefore beautiful in their melancholy lustre as those 
expanded in the full %ht of day, were the feelings an<i 
fancies that rose within the heart of him - who lived, it 
might be said, within the gloom of the burial-place, yet 
even in those mournful piecincts, felt the warmth of re* 
storing Hope . His whole character was s<tftened, subdued, 
and at the same time, (so perfect was a Christian's resig* 
nation^) sublimed. The querul«us and restless impatience 


of disease, constantly soothed by the sym^Mithy of a brother, 
sabsided finally into utter calm ; penitence had socoeeded 
lemorse for all the sins his youth had known, and none 
are sinless; and so unappaUing now was the thought of 
death, that there were seasons when he felt that to die 
would be gieat gain. But wasted as his frame was, and 
faint, feeble, and irregular too often the beatings of his 
heart, oh 1 how thai heart yearned within him when the 
images of his father and his mother and his sister passed 
befine him during the night-watdies ! —when he saw the 
lighted cottage-windows burning like stars up and down 
the darkness ; and heard, afor off as it was and beyond 
the loar of sees, the frequent psalm rising from glen and 
MH-side, the sacred melodies of his natire land ( 

Ofbtta has a sailor, in shattoRd bark and through raging 
surfy in safely reached Ae shove, and often has a galknt 
ship, with all her bravery on and scarce a breath of i^nnd, 
gone down at sea. Out of almoet hopeless jeopardy, 
Allan Lorimer saw that his brother had been brought by 
God's own hand : the prayen that eo many hearts had 
been pouring out were heard ; and die green earth closed 
on the yawning grave without its victim. The feet that 
seemed to be awaiting tiie swathes of the shitnid, once 
more trod lightly among the flowers ; that faint, sad smile, 
brightened into a happy expression, in which itself was 
lost ; and his voice was like a musical instrament skilfully 
re-toned. A day in one village, a week in another ; a 
month in some fair town, and a vrinter in the Eternal 
City; and he who bad come to Itidy — almost to d^ — 


prepared to leave it with a new life. He feit that for him 
a miracle had been wrought ; nor did he fear to tue that 
word in his prayers. Must we wait until we see iStte dead 
arise before we say, "A miracle, a miracle!'' Faith 
sees them wiooght within the conliiies of the day/ and 
looks from the Bible wil^ a cleared eye ever the daily 
revelatiott eomiecting Time wiA Eternity. 

There was the teioe of nngmg^ heard throughout ilie 
whole paiilih, and the wavmg of boughs was seeii evt^r 
bands of children, and 'flcrMer-giii'landB l^ighteaed evt^ 
humbte pofdi, the day oh which it was known that Allan 
Lorim^r was to' bring homii Uie yeung heir of the Castie 
from the far-Oiff country , that had seemed to the imagina- 
tion of those simple peoiph the veiy r^ion ef death. Net 
a single person was left at work hi the fiekbi *, thekey 
was tamed in eveiy cottage^oor; even the very bed- 
ridden ivere brought out to knoUi by* the road^side i and 
when a signal was ^en that the 'Retunied were eotmng 
up the Brate, the old sexton began ringing the email kirfc- 
b6fi, and a shout went dr^ng along the hills aU the wtey 
to the Casde. Within its walls, there was a solemn 
silence, brolcen only - by the sobbing of a joy idmost too 
severe. Again and i^;ain the parents embraced one and- 
ther in s^ret> and saidL down" together On iheir knees ; 
Imt ihe itteettng^ eame in Its ageny, and passed ever ; and 
■tiien 'there was perfset Uessedn^ «lven on thia aide of 

AHatt Lorimer cohtlnued to reside in- the CaslSe. In- 
Mdeteid/his presence seemed ess^ntiid to the very life that. 


under Piovideiioer he had saved ; and hia mni pasents, 
happy ia his prosperity, were well content with his daily 
yisita of duty and affection. At Che Castle be was indeed 
belared as a son : but could it be with a brother's eyes 
that b^ loqfasd on that fair Vision who loBgi gliding for ever 
before. faimr calling heiself his sister, in her teaxAil grati- 
tude ; surrounding him aft all times with the unconscious 
Aiscinalion of her joy-brightened heauty» and at night-fall 
tffnrliiwg his. inmost spirit with. her low, fervent murmurs, 
Imatbfiid at the. hokjr. boor of praQFer ! 

Yes? brother and sister they indoed were, and to them 
sufficient were sodn pleasant names. Although she had 
giown up, during his long absence, from the simplicity of 
cbildhoad into maiden pride* and was now the loveliest 
being his«yes had ever .beheld, lovelier far than the di- 
winest of the pajoi^heeked. and d^iJi-eyed daughteis of 
Mly* yet Allan Loriraer loohfdoatnmbled on her coun- 
tenance, and untroubled listened to her. voice. A dear 
9nd asolemn duty had been fulfilled by him in lauling ao 
dorotedly. thai sick bed. Sittang these for. so inany days 
andso maay.nightc^ and often «zpoeting to hear the latest 
sigh, be came te.icg|ud the&mily widi. feelings so pro- 
found in tbns sadaeas, so b^lowed by tbeif continual 
Qonimunion with the world of iqpvits,.that ev^en that love 
•Hhichinnocenoe And beauty 4Qspin> couhl not now invade 
his beait towasda her whom he had .90 long compcehended 
in his most sacred sorrow. He had brought bach to her 
embrace a brother foe whom she had often wept as for the 
dead ; and the reward he denred was. not thatiieait so 


tender and so afG9ctioiiatB» not the beautiful boaom beneajth 
which it beat ; but that calm, deep, and unending afiection, 
that brings no blushes to the cheek, no sigh to the breast, 
no tear to the eye, but in freedom and confidence bestows 
its day^ligfat smiles on its object, and unconsciously shows 
itself in many a little token of gratitude and respect. 
Besides, Allan Lorimer was a man humbly bom, and he 
looked on to a humble life, as the happiest of lots. Had 
love, as a passion, sought to take possessbnof his mind, 
his reason would have uesisted iheimpnlse. Forbelaere 
it not that we have no paw«r ofver love ! Let usknow 
well ourselves and our condition •*— their natural powers, 
duties, and destinies > and with ihat aid from above which 
is never withheld from them who beseech it in humility 
and truth, we may walk our way through the world, de- 
lighting in all that is beautiful, without being disturbed 
or enslaved, and blest with iSbe due measure of all life's 
holiest affectioxu. 

It is the Sabbath-day, and the little kirk can never hold 
that congregation assembled in the church-yaid, and co- 
vering even the tombstones and the circle of the old mossy 
wall. Lo ! a tent is pitched facing the Braes, and from 
it the preacher will address his flock. Walking between 
the aged pastor, whose earthly services, in the eye of his 
great Task master, are now near their close, and his own 
father, Allan Lorimer, in the sacred garb, is .seen to 
approach. It is the first Sabbath of his assistant ministry, 
and his soul overflows with a holy joy. His friends of 
the Castle bow reverently to him as he passes by ; he sees 


hu own mother and hk lister Aanai and almost thinks he 
hears them sob ; on Anna leans, with downcast eyes 
streaming with tears, one to whom he is betrothed, the 
orphan grandchild of the aged pastor who ere long most 
dmp the body ; and now he stands in his plaoe in all 
the beauty of piovs youth, with hands uplifted to implore 
a blessing 1 There is the chuich-tower,— there the shadow 
of the 8ycamoies,-*miere the sound of the doves cooing in 
the belfiy, — there his brother's grave 1 A lark at that 
moment rises, as if let loose from among the silent con- 
gregation, and carries up its hymns to heaven. For a 
moment that hour flashes back on his memory, when, be* 
aeath the hirch-tiee on the knoU, he felt himself caUed 
i^n by a voice within his own soul ; and, ere he opens 
his lips in public prayer, he ventures to breathe to himself 
in a whisper, the words he then uttered before his won* 
dering sister—- ''Gracious Father! if it be thy will, 
accept me as a Servant of thy Holy Word." 

Aiig. 1826. 



<' And it shall come to paM m that day, I will hear, saitli 
the Lord : I will hear the heavens, and they ahall hear .the 
earth, and the earth shall hear the com and the wine and 
the oil ; and they shall hear Jezreel/' — Hosba ii. 21, 2^ 

What strange, what fearful thing hath come to pass t 
The ground is iron, and the skies are brass : 
Man, on the withering harvest casts his eye, 
" Give me your fruits in season, or I die j" 
The timely fruits implore their parent — Earth, 
** Where is thy strength to bring us forth to birth V* 
The Earth, all prostrate, to the Clouds complains — 
" Send to my heart your fertilizing rains ;" 
The Clouds invoke the heavens — '* Collect, disuse 
Through us your healing, quickening influence ;" 
The Heavens to Him that rules them raise their moan — 
''Command thy blessing, and it, &\i^V)e doTi<&.'' 


— The Loid M in hb temple : — hualied and itill. 
The suppliant Univene awaits hii will. 

He speaks : — and to the ckNidB the Hibkhbm dispense 
With lightning speed, their genial inflaence : 
The gathering, hraaking doods pour down the rains : 
Earth drinks the hiias thio' all her eager veins. 
From teeming furrows start the fruits to birth. 
And shake their riches on the lap of Earth : 
Man sees the harvest gnnr beneath his ^e. 
Turns, and looks up with rapture to the sky : 
All that have breath and being then rejoice. 
All Iiaftare'# voices bland m one- gieat vsioe ; 
" Glory to God^ who thus Himself makes known !" 
— When shall all tongues confess Uix Gon alohb t 
Lord, as the rain comes down from heaven — the rain 
That waters Earth, and turns not thence again, 
But makes the tree to bud, the com to spring. 
And feeds and gladdens eveiy living tiling ; 
So come thy Gospel o'er a world destroyed. 
In boundless blessings, and return not void : 
So let it come, in universal showers. 
To fill Earth's dreariest wilderness with flowers, 
— With flowers of promise, fill the wild within 
Man's heart, laid waste and desolate by sin : 
Where thorns and tiiistles curse the infested ground. 
Let the rich fruits of righteousness abound ; 
And trees of life, for ever fiesh and green. 
Flourish, where only ttees of death have been ! 



Let Truth look down from heaven, Hope soar above, 

Ji^tice and Mercy kiss, Faith woik by Love ; 

Heralds the year of jubilee proclaim ; 

Bow every knee at the Redeemer's name ; 

Nations new-bom, their fathers' idols spurn ; 

The ransomed of the Lord with songs return : 

Through realms, with darkness, thraldom, guilt, o'erspread. 

In light, joy, freedom, be the Spirit shed. 

Speak thou the word : — to Satan's power say, *' Cease V* 

But to a world of pardoned sinnera — " Peace !" 

Thus, in thy grace, O God, Thyulf make known. 
Then shall all tongues confess Thbb God Alonb I 

Sheffield, Aug. 1896. 


A CHILD beside a hamlet's fount at play. 
Her fair face laughing at the sunny day ; 
The cheerful girl her labour leaves a while. 
To gaze on Heaven's and Earth's unsullied smile ; 
Her happy dog looks on her dimpled cheeks. 
And of his joy in his own language speaks ; 
A gush of waters, tremulously bright. 
Kindling the air to gladness with their light ; 
And a soft gloom beyond, of summer-trees, 
Darkening the turf, and, shadowed o'er by these, 
A low, dim, woodland cottage : —this was all ! 

What had the scene for memory to recall 
With a fond look of love 1 What secret spell 
With the heart's pictures bade its image dwelll 
What but the spirit of the joyous child. 
That freshly forth o'er stream and verdure smiled. 
Casting upon the. common things,of earth 
A brightness, bom and gone with infant mirth ? 

F. H. 



Child, amidst the flowen at play, 
While the red light fades away ; 
Mother, with thine earnest eye. 
Ever following silently ; 
Father, by the breeze of eve 
Called thy harvest- work to leave ; — 
Pray ! — Ere yet the dark hours be, 
Lift the heart atid bend the knee. 

Traveller, in the stranger's land. 
Far from thine own household band ; 
IVIoumer, haunted by the tone 
Of a voice from this world gone ; 
Captive, in whose narrow cell 
Sunshine hath not leave to dwell ; 
Sailor, on the daikening sea ; — 
Lift the heart and bend the knee ! 

80NNKT. 33 

Wanior, that from battle won, 
Breathest now at set of lun ; 
Woman, o'er the bwly slain. 
Weeping on his burial-plain ; 
Ye that triumph, ye that sigh. 
Kindred by one holy tie I 
Heaven's first star alike ye see — 
Lift the heart and bend the knee ! 



" Who shall avenge the slave V* I stood and <aied : ^ 

" The earth, the earth I" the echoing sea repUed : 

I tamed me to the ocean, but each wave 

Declined to be the avenger of the slave. 

" Who shall avenge the slave V my species ciy — 

'' The winds, the floods, the lightnings of the sky :"* 

I tom'd to these, — from them one echo ran — 

** The right avenger of the slave, is man !" — 

Man was my fellow ; in his sight I stood. 

Wept, and besought him by the. voice of blood : 

Sternly he looked, as proud on earth he trod. 

Then said, " The avenger of the slave is God !" — 

I looked in prayer towards heaven — awhile *twas still. 

And then methought Goo's voice replied^-" I will I" 






Late Chaplain to the British Embassy at Constantiiiople. 

Armenia, a country in Asia, lying to the North of 
Persia and Mesopotamia, and to the South of the Euxine 
and Caspian Seas, is celebrated from the earliest anti- 
quity. The face of the region is very mountainous, and 
all the great rivers take their rise there : the Tigris and 
the Euphrates running South, and falling into the Per^an 
Gulf, and the Phasis, Cyrus, and Araxes, running North, 
and falling into the Euxine and Caspian Seas, indicate 
that their sources must be in the highest land in the im- 
mense space which they traverse. Hence it was that this 
region was first uncovered by the waters of the Deluge, 
and the Ark, we are told» rested on Mount Ararat, the 


highest mountain of Annenia.* In the histones of Greece 
and R^Moe, Aimenia was the scene of many events. The 
Ten Thousand Greeks passed through it in their retreat 
from Persia ; and Tigranes, king of Armenia, was the 
great ally of Mithridates, the powerful enemy of the 
Romans. It aftervirards formed part of the Parthian 
monarchy, established by the Arsacids, on the decline 
of the Roman empirei and was finally subdued by the 
Turks, under Selim I., in the year 1615, and has ever 
since contmued annexed, as a province, to the Turkish 

On the subjugation of Armenia by the Turks, the 
country became greatly depopulated.' Numbers emigrated 
to different parts of the world, where, like the Jews, they 
continue at this day dispersed, and retain, like them, the 
characteristics which distinguish their original country; 
and they acquired a propensity for wandering about, and 
a commercial enterprise, which still mark them in the 
East, and which once distinguished them in the Western 
world. Cha Abbas, -the celebrated Persian monarch, 
cotemporaiy with our Elizabeth, availed himself of the 
inroad of the Turks, and invited the. fugitive Armenians 

* The Armenians believe that the Ark was miracalonsly 
preierved from decay, and still exists on the top of their moun- 
tain. Many attempts, they say, have been made to ascend to 
where it is ; but the persons, when near the top, always found 
themselves by some snpematural means, again conveyed to 
the bottom. 


to settle in his dominions, where he gave them ereiy 
prelection and encouragement* Twenty thousand Ar- 
menian families were located in the province of Guilam 
dHone, where they carried the culture of silk to the high 
state of perfection which it has attuned there. In Julfa, 
a suburh of Ispahan, an exclusive colony was formed, 
which consisted of thir^ thousand persons. This colony 
became the great centre of Asiatic commerce. They 
were distinguished by a frugality, industry, and economy, 
and above all by a spirit of enterprize and a personal cou- 
rage and activity in commercial speculations, veiy different 
from the luxurious indolence of an Asiatic people. It 
was the practice of the Armenian merchants to accompany 
themselves all their commodities into foreign countries. 
A trea^ was concluded with the czar of Muscovy, by 
which the Armenian merchants had free passage through 
his dominions, and the extent to which they availed them- 
selves of it, is almost incredible in those rude times and 
barbarous regions. They proceeded with their bales of 
silk and other commodities across the Caspian Sea, or 
through Tartary to Astrachan, at the mouth of the Volga, 
and from thence ascended the river to Moscow. St. 
Peiersburgh was not at this time built, and the Muscovites 
had no port on the Baltic. The Armenians, therefore, 
proceeded to Archangel, on the White Sea, and embark- 
ing there with their merchandize, sailed round the North 
Cape^of LApland, and so visited the western countries of 
Europe. Having disposed of their Asiatic produce, they 
returned by the Mediterranean, and brought back that of 


Europe in eiefcfange. In ihis way the cloths of England 
and Holland, the glass of Venice, and all the then cele- 
brated mann&ctures of European industry, were first cir- 
cnlated thfougfa! the East by this enterprising people, who, 
setting oiit from the centre of Asia, and the mildest climate 
on earth, penetrated the ice of the Arctic Circle to accom- 
plish their extraordinaiy journey. 

. Though the industry of Europeans has now changed 
the cunent of diis commerce, and Asiatics no longer bring 
us theirs and take back our produce ; still the Armenians 
are the giteat merchants, through whose agency commerce 
ht circulated thimigh the interior of the East. About*" 
40,000 reside in India, where they carry on the greater 
part of the inland trade. I also found many merchants 
of that nation in Transylvania, Hungary, Poland, and 
Russia, ' where they are distinguished by their national 
qualities — ^industry, frugality, activity, and their natural 
and inseparable result, great opulence* 

But by far the most numerous and important colony of 
this people, is that which was brought to Constantinople 
by the Turks, after they had subdued their country. I 
was curious to ascertain with accuracy their present 
n\imbers, and I obtained an authentic return from the 
distriets in which they reside. There are at present in 
Constantinople and the adjoining villages on the Bos- 
j^rus, 200,000 Armenian Christians. Of these, about 
4000 individuals have conformed to Roman Catholic forms 
of worship, and acknowledge the supremacy of the See of 
Rome ; ^e remainder adhere to ihe doctrines and discipline 


of theiz prinutive Asiatic churches, and acknowledge no 
spiritual head bat their own patriarch* The retigioos state 
o£ this people is, therefore, that of their nation : I can 
speak of it from a residence and observation of some years 
among them; and what 1 have not seen, I can detail 
fimn authentic information* 

The Armenians were first converted to Christianity by 
St* Gregory of Nazianzus, a town in Cappadocia, who, 
in the reign of the Gredc Emperor Th^odosius, was 
ejected Patriarch of Constantinople* He, however, pie* 
fenced the duties of a missionaiy to heathen nadons yet 
unconverted, and with this view he returned to his own 
countiy, and proceeded eastward to the mountains of 
4^menia, when he first preached the Gospel* The 
tradition of the Armenians on this important event, i« as 
follQvre* The country at that time was governed by 
Tiridates, a cruel tyrant, who immediately had the missis 
onary seized and thrown into a dungeon* deep, dank, and 
filled with serpents. Here he was left and forgotten, and 
nothing further was then heard of him and his doctrines* 
Thirty years after tiiis event, Castrovitugh, sister of Tiri- 
dates, was disturbed by nocturnal visions; an angel, she 
asserted, appeared to her, and constantly urged her to 
intercede for Gregory* She therefore applied to her 
brother, who assured her, intercession was useless, as the 
missionaiy was long since dead; and allowed her to 
satisfy herself by examining his dungeon. She did to^ 
and to her astonishment and joy, found the missionary* 
ijot.only alive, l;|ttt in perfect health. She now ui^ged thie 


«ifacle as a froof of \m divine miflsioB; but Tiiidafet, 
like Pharaoh, stiU hardeoed his heart, and kept him oo»- 
fined, till God cimverted him by a temble viaitalion. Ho 
was one day hunting a wild boar on the side of Moont 
Aiaiat, when soddenly he was changed into a sfanilar 
animat, and all his attendanti into hounds in pursiiit ti 
him. The people, strook.with this awful judgment, im- 
mediately nshed to the dungeon, and liberated Gregoiy ; 
who pn^ed that the kiog and his attendants might be 
nslered to their proper shapes. His prayers were h^avd, 
and the first use tiiey made of dieir human 'fonns, was to 
befai^lticed,and acknowledge the doctrines of Christfaniig^j 
whiefa wefo then embraced by all the nation. Gregeiy 
afierwards Ured to a great age, foaniUng churches in te 
country, which are still held in high venemtion. At his 
death', he was canonised as the patron saint of the natioii, 
^noder &e name of << Surp loo Satoiich,*' or the ** Holy 
lUuminalor;" and still further to ennce the&r res^vect anfl 
reverence, they commenced their era from the time of hfii 
death, which happened, according to tfieir account^ in the 
year 551 alter Christ ; our present year therefore, 1839, 
is, according to the Armenian calendar, 1275, 

The piincipal church founded by St. Gregory, was that 
of '* Etchmeasin," whene, according to their ecclenastical 
histoiy, another extraoidinaiy miracle was'wrought. The 
church stands Upon a rock, under which was a deep cavern. 
In the times of Paganism, ftis cavern was filled with 
impure demons, who were consulted on all future events, 
and gave answers like the Gieek and Romftn Oncl^, 



.Tfaift fenl Maaoa was destroyed, they say, by Chriflt 
iumself, who, at&einteicessionof St. Gregory, descended 
;with his cross in his hand, and sftrikiag the rock with it» 
.len^ asttsder the abode, and put to flight the demon iiiha> 
•bitaats.* The rockfiom thence wascalled '^Etchmeaaia,*" 
tor the "Stroke;" and the chmch founded on it, was 
made the seat-of their Patriareh, tfaespintaal head of tkek 
;chufch. The Mahomedans tiiemsekes hold it in sack 
lespect, that they hare allowed it a privilege windi j» 
,dther place of wenh^ is permitled to enjoy in their 
donimons. The Ttnks ttfabof the sound of a bett ; intern 
own cotigregationft aro edied to wonhip by .a faisnaii 
^voice, and those of othw sects by a wooden mallet, stru^ 
■against a board ; to the church of Etehmeasin alone they 
.permit a ling of bells, and for that leasQA they caU it al 
this day, <* CfaangU Chils6,"€r the " Ghuich of Be]ls.'1 
. From the time of St.*Gregoty, Chsistianity made ajfi^iid 
and extensive progress in the East. At the period Of the 
Tttikish invasion, the capital of Aimenia was " Aaee,*' 
celebrated for containing within it three hundred Ghiisjtiaji 
dmrches. The inroad of the Mahometans^ however, with 

* The early fatherci of the church mentipa the silence im- 
posed upon Pagan oracles as one of the first effects of the pro* 
fliiflgaUoni of Chrlstlaalty, according to the prophecy of th^ 
, Apostle^ "Whether there bepTO|ihecie8,theyeiiaUfejli}" 1 C«r. 
xiil. 8. Eusebius goes so far as to enumerate some of them. 
•It was asserted thai Memnon's statue ceased to emit soOnds 4t 
.the name tbneaMd for t]Meame>«auatf.'. . . -^ 


the Koran in one hand, «nd the eztenninatkig amotd in 
Hie other, has new swept away those nmnuments of the 
Gospel, and, like Ephesns and die churches in the ether 
p«rts of Asia, and from the same cease, itief hinre lift 
only dieir name tend place faehhid' them. 
^ The chniches of the Annenians are plain * edifices onl« 
aide, hut the tntenor is exceedingly gaudy* In connoa 
wilJb the Greeks, they aM>of imagss as idelatieus, andthay 
imrerndmit a. aiafaie iaside their ehmch. They do aot« 
however, annex the same idea to pieliiies, and the walk of 
their chwches are Ulemlly covered up to the roof with 
poitiaits of our Saviour, the Viigin* and diffiuent saints^ 
to all of which they pay a profound veneration, by genu* 
Aactien, touching their hands first to the gnsnnd before 
then), and then to their £Helieads, and kissing some pail 
of the figure with as amHul respeoti The service is 
ehanated, and the munie much nioie tolerable than that 

The Armenian chnreh is governed by four Patriafche, 
whose jurisdiction is acknowledged by the people in 
whateirer distant oounlry.they may reside; namely, die 
Patriardi of " Etchmeasin," near Erivan, in Penia, and 
of «<Sis," "Canshahar,'' and '« Achtamar/' m Armenia, 
There are, besides, two others, which, though of equal or 
greater consequence, are merely titular, and property form 
no part of the diadphne of the Armenian Church; these 
are the Patriarchs of " CoDstantinople" and <' Jerusalemi'* 
It is the policy of the Turks to avail themselves of the 
rdigiouB prejudices of the people they subdue, and* 



Vffumi toleratioii is littie moie tlian wndid avarice, or 
■elfish policy ; they therefoie ^ipomted two new Patriaiefas 
witiun! their own immediate control, and to which they 
nomwate crealuros of their own choice. On eveiy new 
i^ypointmenty they reoeiTte an enonnous sum of money; and 
the Fataaroh Ihen becomes the iostrament of enibnangihe 
finoaniH and eoQactiiigf the Haratch, or CapitatioB Tax; 
for which he is made raapaBoUe; the poor Patriaichs of 
Constantinepk, therefore, wheAer Greek or Armeman^ 
are not held in nnich mpect by their people, as they ar^ 
eonstantly changed for the money eveiy new appoiatment 
bnngs, and they are known to be the mere tools of 
Turkish masfcen. 

: When an Armenian feels, as he tiiinks, a call to the 
ministiy, he simply gees to the priest of his district, ac« 
companied by his father and mother, and announces thai 
be wishes to devote himself to God. - HeisthenpreBonted 
with a cope by the priest, and at the expiration of soma 
period of probation, he is ordaoned and presented by the 
bishop with, the saoeidotsd veBtaiieats. 
' Priests are ordained as in the Western Church, by th« 
** imposition>of hands ;" but it is necessaty that the four 
primiHve Patrmrchf should concur in this ordinatbm^ 
either personally or by a representative: if the Patriarch 
of ConstaatiBople aesist, he does it as proxy for another^ 
Tlie priesthood is divided into two olasses-^-eecuiar aid 
regular. The fifst an not only allowed to many, but it 
is^ enjoined to them as a necessary qualification for holy 
orders; but if a priest's wife die, and he take another, he 


becomes 8Q8|ieiided and degraded fiojii hi* Baoenlalil 
fttactions. The regular ekxgfrOt monka, are not aUowad 
to take wives; and as all the digaitariea ol thtti cbmeii, 
Ae PatiiaiGhs and Bishopsi must be taken- finra tbisavden 
it fi>Uowa of ciNUse, that no Patriaieh or Bishop ean be 
» manied man. The irhoie clerical estabfahment is no# 
anpporled fay voluntary conti&Hitions made at festimls and 
other times in their cfanrdiflsv and certain iees on oeoaibnkl 
datxes. The convents, however, haveatiU seme pottiDns of 
land annexed to them, which goes to the sasteaanoe mni 
aoppert of the- monika wiw>cidtivata them. There an 
three oiden of monks': thai of ' * Snrp Savoiich," or f* Sti 
Gregory,'' *< Surp Partiaeh/' or *' St. Basil," and '*€kirp 
Dominicos/* or " St. Domimtdu" This latler is. a more 
leoent <»der, and has been- adapted fimn theLatia Chnrcfai 
These Casnobiies inhabit four convents situated in diAreal 
psitsofAsia: *«SnrpCarabet," or "St. John," blithe 
frontiers of Persia; *'Varatch," or the <' Holy Oross," near 
Vau, in Armema; ** Aspasann," orthe '* Holy -VirginvV 
near Diafbdur, in Mesopetamiar; and *' SurpBogas;" or 
^* SC Paul,'' Stt Angara, in Asia^Minor. • Besides these; 
there are many reKgioos penons who separate themselves 
fro^i the world, and devote their lives: to solttiide and 
prayer; among th«M, the'"GigBiahores" loe the most 
lemai^ble. They seaxch out the' ksghest joai most inao* 
ceanble roc^, and, cUmbing to the suimnit, never again 
descend* They are supplied by provisions' which * tiie 
piens bring below, and which the Anchoret dra#s up fa^ 

44 Accooirr OP thb armbniav oHanriAKa. 

iheans of a cord. It is evident dMt tliiae we a rramiattt 
of the order of Simon Sty lites« 

Betides the vstid otdere of bishops, priests, and descons^ 
there is one pecvliar to the Aimeman chareh, tiiat of tibe 
VtrttMfts, or Doctors. They are censidoed a»tho moot 
learned of the natioa, and attowed eztnozdinwy pwrilegea*- 
l%ey are permittad to pisacfa their setmcma «<l/iM|^»'-~«ii 
ittdulgence sot eictended to iheb bishops* Thieir opiniona 
are the standards of orthodoxy^ and they were the great 
opponents of tiie missionaries from Rome, wkoiAaUthout 
f ilin g s grea% abuse them for their heiesies. . When the 
difibrent heieB&es which sprang up in &e early ages of tha 
efanrch were eoodemned by the synods, they generaUy 
redsed to soma remote part, where, to Ihis die^y, they are 
pioiessed^ thougii now. fargotftcn or disragafded by the eesi 
of Ciiristendom. 

Like aJft the (kientais, the Armenians aUribute greiai 
importance to fitstiog. Among people so oomparatively 
moderate and. sim^e in' their diet, restraints impoced oit 
tbeir ftppetUes cannot be ^ in the same, degree. as bf 
nations who. are less temperate ; but they axe actually 99 
severe, asui so< rigidly observed, as to evinoe an eBtnMF«< 
dinary sinoerity aad self-denial. Their first great period 
ef jteting oonespondawith oisr8F-<-tfa^fi»ty days preceding 
£aster Sunday* JMCany .commeaee the iaat. by -abstainii^g 
three or inu days iiwn^ kinds of food, end then, daring 
its continuance^ they eat aotyng tilli^hree o'clock in th* 
dgiy,. in imitation, of .Cotndius» whoiiuted till that howv 


When they do ak/ iksf ue not aUowed the food that is 
pennitted by other churches. They must not eat fish 
wiai blood, which is pennHled in tbe Laiia Charch ; nor 
^iisb with shells, whkh is pennitted in the Greek. They 
«ie restricted to bvcad and oU ; and becaase oUve oil 
is too nourishing^ and too great a luxury, they use that 
-which is ezpxMsed from a grain odied mmmmi, of a taste 
and odour. eiiceedin^frevolliBg. In this way they ob- 
.ierve certain peiiodi before. Chriflmas and other festivals, 
•besides e^eiy Wednesday, and Friday ; ^so thut the wh<^ 
year isa saocessiim of Lents, with short .intarmli,.dttnng 
.which they mamtein, not a aomiaal, but a rigid, unoous- 
.piomisiBg. abstinenee.' Many of the boatmen on the 
Boflphoms, and the faumnals or porters, are Aimenians. 
I faaye' often' pilisd -those uufprtanate men, whom I have 
seen labouring whole days without remission, on scant^r 
diet, scaic^ sufBaient to sappost a human body when 
■not m^ng' any eaevtinn. <Among the Ihod from :«riueh 
^Aey abstain altegefber, is the flesh of a hare, which no 
•can «f appetite or scannty* of food wiH induce some <ii 
tiiem to touch. They do not allege for it any prejudioe 
.founded on the Levitical Law, which induces some worthy 
-peo{de among ourselves to abstain ftom swine's flesh ; 
I but they assign piqrsical causes. They assert that a hai^ 
has" certain bodily habits that too neai-Iy resemble the 
human ; and, moreover, thai it is -of a melancholy tem- 
-perament, to which they themifelves have too great a 
.disposllion, and which the flesh of this animal would 
• have a tendency to increase. . 


As the Anneniam are tbiu se^re in tbeir disoiplbi«, 
BO they are rigid in their doctrines. Thejr hold the tenet 
of Inftutt Baptism, hut infist'on the necessity of total 
immersion of the body. The priest, therefore, takes the 
child by the hands and feet, and plunges him three times 
in the water ; and so neoessaiy to the spiritual effect do 
they hold the washing of the whok body, that if any past 
remain unweUed, they raise the water in their hand, and 
so purify the unwai^ied limb* The ceremoi^ of chrism, 
or anointing the in£uit with oil, takes pboe aflber baptism. 
The fprehead, eyes, eazs, stomach, palms of the hand*, 
and soles of the fiset, am touched widi consecrated oil, 
and then the bread of the Eucharist is touched to tbe lips. 

The Eucharist, or, as they call it, " Smp usium," is 
administered to adults on Sundays and festivals, in n 
manner difiecent linm alt other Christiatt churches. They 
use unleavened bread, or waier, which they steep in the 
wineif firom whence the priest takes it with his 6ng«B, and 
distributes it indiscriminately to the communicants. There 
IS geaeraily, beside the priest, a boy who assists ; to him 
he presents his fingers, after he has given the elements, 
and he devoutly licks off whatever has adhered to them. 
The Armenians, to a certain extent, beheve in the doc* 
toQQ of TransiibstanitiatiQa on this occasion, and take 
literally the expression of " this is my bOc^." Thsfy 
farther ima^e that these elements, oonverted into the 
Real Presence, remaip for twenty-four horns in the sle- 
msMch undigested, . during, which time they never ^it, nor 
sailer adog, or any other impure thing^to touch theirmonths. 


In their maniag^ei they ore very preeise ; Bot only en- . 
fafcing the canon of oonsangoinity which our church 
enjoins, bnt many others whieh our church does not. A 
seeond mairiage is alloired to the laity, but a third brings 
'vnth it a scandal that no Annenian will venture to incur. 
Th^ are in all things anxious to maintain the fitness and 
pvoprie^ of things z widows are enjoined to unite them- 
selves to widoweia only, and spinstefs to bachelors* As 
the nation is really Asiatic, their notions of fetnale pro- 
priflly aie all fimnded in Oriental feelings. Thar women 
ave kept in a state of severe seelosion ; and the parties 
tabe married never see each «ther, periiaps, till they meet 
aA the maniage ceremony. There are certun experienced 
£emales, whose exclusive profession it is to make matches, 
and who are so numerous as to fiqrm, like aU bodies of' 
people of the same puTsuits in the East, a kind of corpo-' 
ration. To every family, one of those has access ; and 
when it is deemed prudent or desirable by her friends that 
a feooale should marry, this person is commissioned to 
l9ok out for a suitable match, and never fails to find one* 
I was^ invited to the wedding of a young lady of one of 
^.fe»t> Armenian femilies in Pera, whose* match was 
made in this way, ^nd who, I was assured, had never 
Been the man die was going to marry. We went about 
eight o'doek in the evening, and found the house lighted 
npj and Ml of the lady's friends, among whom were ther 
fMsisstend his wife, voy plain; simple-looking persons. 
We pasaeA through several ante-rooms, in* which were 
graupaol pee{fle, aodiMra fitlitUy ushered into ah inside 

4h AfVOirst OF tl!B XHMBVt aV CfllllSrrANS. • 

chamber, round which was a di^n; or loof sofa» again&k 
the wall. On Xht divan wi9ts a windMrof Afmeiiiani 
ladies, sitting cross-legged, twd Of three deiip,- sad ckiae 
together ; and at the far cdm^'sat a still, motioidMft fona^ 
like a bnst in a nidhd, covered over' widk a rich veil, glit- 
tering with gold, which hung down On all-sides^iwas 
entirely to conceal the figare beneath it. This bust wat 
the bride. Across the noliddleof the rdom was a line of 
iheh standing two of three deep, giiiing' in aitenoe^aft'litt 
bride. Out of cotnplatisance to oar Fraalt )$iistoaiBi chalii - 
were brought for our acconnnodation/ and placed inai^e 
the line of meil : bii these we now sat down, andiooati^ 
Bued for a long time to "gaae in ^lence aho. - TKe<r bitde 
now', for the first time, p«inmtted Iter veil to iwisiaad; 
but it was imm^atelyagdn 1^'fatl. ' Theshoft gUmfiBs^ 
however, Showed us a( sHghlf'fig^hfe'aiMla|Ndfrllcej wilk 
ah expression ekdec^f^^ly -joyless ac(d' pebsivei She 
formed a strong Contrast to' the ladies on the divsDj^ wiio^ 
though silent, or speaking in whtspcfrs, wwe in high 
spiiits. The/were aSl diftts^guSslwd by glittemg ooioiiels 
of gold and diamonds, placed on the crown of the iMMi, 
from whence their hairhtm^down^ in tiie meet bemUfal 
^d exthu>rdi^aiy ^^JroAtstony^ sweeping the divan oa wiliich - 
they were ' sitting. Their, faces inor getteral woe • lovBfy» 
their manneriviSiymodestr but very offil^ble, and aeeoe 
was veiled dt tesen^d tmr 'Hie ' btide. Relhsikmente 
were handed to tts by two' of 1^ yeang^laidaes,- who 
stepped from the divan for thiat pmpote. 1^ coomsM 
of little gkss^ of Bed Rosbgiioi rfi^ttWBd by speeaefttla 


oimf9meei^^Ui/9, oomiil^ syn^* like flower vod honey,- 
aad washed dofvn by gobiete of wat^, not very clear. 
The lefieefaAent wju accoivpenied by mutic ; a group of 
wnwrwiBft jMt in « corner of the room, and played and 
nmg appropoate nongs* An open space was now cleared 
e^^pofeite the bnde» and two embroidered mats were laid 
oa» it* On .these weie placed two enormous silver candle- 
atiokif containing wax tapeia of a proportionate si^e ; and 
ketwsen. them %, thisd enoimous .caftdle, without a candle- 
ttkA» aBdeingiileily. deoocaled* It; was boimd on the 
lop of' a .whitA pole, and ovnamented with festoons ol 
lUmiidfr and gold iinseU As it could not stand byitself, 
k was bound U> the back of a chair, and placed directly 
befem the bride« This, candle was called the ''nuptial 
iaffstt" it iepieaented..the maiden state of the girl, and 
woe to bun tiiL that stale.eicpirod and she became a wife: 
at is dien extiognisfaed and preserved in her family; whiie 
the'^snotf of the wick is taken by the priest, who affirms 
that it is endued with many virtues. I did not expect to 
aee^tfie tofoKof Hymen thus lighted at a Christian 
fieAiing* • . • « 

' The piittt was now eaUed forward to perform another 
kipertaftt ceremony. A low table was placed near the 
mpCial t^er; this was coveted with a white cloth, or 
^mphiiii and the priest sat down at one end, attended by 
anoliher Armenian, who was not a pri^ to say responses. 
•lie tbokont of his bosom a small crupifis, and waving it 
avreial times in the air.over the table, he uttered a bene* 
-dlMto'^^he Uien. began a pcagi^r^.. and concluded with a 

50 AOCOVNT OP TBS AftKfeKlAy CttftMttA VBi 

psafani accompanied by his attistaiitf in a y«ry diMO^* 
nant and nasal tone. When the psafan was ovef, ^^9* 
were curious to see .what was under Uie eMi« It wai» 
lifted slowly up, and a large neh shawl auppua^ on dw 
table, which was immediately taken and eereiamoi|%t' 
wrapped round the . bride* This was considerad atto ait 
tiie most important parts of the eeiwun^r and called-*^ 
" Blessing the nuplial shawL" 

We now took oar Wsvey and> were iiwitBd to eaut9 
again on the monowi when the biide wa^ to be ocNiv^vd^ 
to the bridegroom, wha was all this time at Oalata, s 
distant part of the town, and never snfoed to approacit 
the house« 

The next day, about three o'clock, the lady was M 
down in the same dress she wore the day before^ and*, is 
addition. to her ample veil^ the consecrated shawl was 
wrapped round her in such a way, as absohitely to enve- 
lope her. An aruba, or Turkish coach, drawn by bu^hi- 
loes, was waiting at the door : this consisted of a loi^ 
platform of boards laid upon four wheels, and surmounted 
with a gaudy ca^iopy of wood, carved and gilt Into thi* 
the bride was Hfted, wrapped up like a child in swaddlii^ 
clothes g(ttng to be christened. Her feaaalo friandt, u»*' 
chiding the priest's wife, to the munber of teA or twdv^ 
sat round her so as effectually to coaceal her ptfaoib 
The nuptial candle was borne on the shoulder of a boy> 
who walked before; and iii this way the praeeaiioiisliowljr 
moved to Galata,. to ihe house of her husband, wJua^ im 
iha first tim0» he was p^n^tted to see her &ce.. The 

AfScovm or trb aswsfiak cbbxstians. 6l 

tail matiii^ oeiemoiiy did not ttk« place till thfM dayt 
9ittT, ftt whiclk no stnng«r8 vr^re adnntted." 

Notwidistamdiiig their veiy unpromising mode of coart- 
IflMp, Biantage is generally a happy, or, at least, a tranqnil 
Btade auMOg the Armenians, and instances of conjngd 
tefideHty «« ntterty unknown. As a religbns people; 
tiny QOttsider it a most solemn engagement ; and Ae 
daqposition of the females, as well ihnn nnioin as edn- 
Mlimi, is «tf gentle, docile, and domestic, that her incH- 
aniieat nenei' stray beyond her lionse, her hnsbtnd, and 
htir ishilcben. 

When ft iamiay is numeions, tt frequently happens that 
the young men do not separate, as with us *, but when 
they ti^any , they all bring their wives home to their finders' 
4ioQ8e, and'the several ^onffies liver togedier in a «taf^<iif 
•ptttriattdiftl comnranity. I was invited, with some Frank 
IViends,' to Site widi a Ihmily of this description, wfto 
fifed in one of the beautiful viRages of the Bosphorair. 
•They sent a caique to convey us, and we arrived aboM 
two o'Sbck. We were inftx^duced to the recepfion-room, cO^ 
'^eMd w'Hh a mat, and famished with a divan round it, in the 
«Biid atyle of oriental hones. H4re we were received hy 
^fte ftitnily. First, an aged man, with a long white beaid; 
vquiMne'noie, and strong marised ibatmes, approached utf, 
itaid made hitf-saiaam by bending forward, and with fa& 
•right-hsaMl tonching, fiist his breast and then hisfcnehBad : 
-next ih srtccession came his three sons, who were mtn 
ndvattced in life ;^enhB aged wife; andlast, his thine 
daitfg h tiM » 'i|fr1aw, two tt whom wove yofiais, and t«y 


lovely women. Of tfatese, the toother alone wa» aUtfwed 
to sit on a comer of the divan : the yonng women stood 
below the step at the bottom of the room, waiting in 
slient respect for orders. Presently, sweetmeats, and an 
aident aromatic spirit, distilled from grapes, called raJki, 
were brought by the ladies, which we were iavifi$d to 
partake of as whets to our appetite, and then dinner way 
announced in anotiier apartment. We found a small 
table, covered vrith a doA, and plates, on eaeh <)f wUeb 
was a wooden spoon, crossed vHth a kmfe, sliarp pointed, 
and not very clean, like tiiose found at French tables^ 
On eftch: plate also weie two ntqikins— one lai|pe, Ibr.the 
hp and hands; the other small, of fine maalin, with a 
coUmied fiinged border, shot with geld, to wipe the 
'mouth, like men alofie seated themselves ; the women 
$tood respectfully round to wait on them. There was one 
lady of our party who took her seat next her husband $ 
the Armenian women stared at eadi other with 8arpria% 
as if they considered her forwardness a great scandal. 
Smfdl gilt tomblers, containing a dark red wme from the 
Archipelago, were laid before each plate, and the dinner 
v^as served. The &st dish was a soup made with meal, 
^hich in taste and consistence resembled Scotch Mirabeut 
'When this was removed, a dish of small fried plaiee was 
laid down»^-<-a great rarity, which is seldom found among 
the abundant fish of the Bo^orus : these we eat with ne 
other sauce than a salad of- cresses, parsley* and lenumr 
juiee. This was succeeded by sheep's trotleis, stewed 
to rags, with crumbs of bread and higfaly-peppeted iws^ 

A00O¥irr Of TIB AB.lftXKI41f CHIU8TIAV9. S9 

K«Kt wai liid damn a fyml, cut into fiecei^ and wtoply 
trailed «ik ft btaader like aipaAch-cook; afiar wliidi came 
ft reif large dish of paitty, 4?oBriirifig «f Hiata of cheaia 
iste^KMed between lanliia of panoakoi ftied in oil, 8a4 
filed up to a oonaidimbiB height. Thia eaded.te fint 
ceaiee, wfaeo wehadaoMM pftutet oor glaiees were !•• 
ttteaiehed With tviMiaad we diftok healths, the old man 
ptft^Df fanfiaAy that it might do «• good* The second 
Goaise oomsMBoed with a large red gnftet hniled, thft 
helly W which mm stoM with oniOBs^ sweet cunants, 
•ad M&all ItidBey-haaiis : thia was sftoceeded by. a pud* 
dSng ftf blown macanmi, fweetivBed arith honqr aocl 
^ees* The dinner iaiihed with a dish e£ cayaiac, of 
sweet, hard cream, ef wMeh the peef l04a the £ael am 
teiy fimd : this was overllid. with a jelly, that eaaatiy 
nsembled sice, in cokmr, 4atle» andconsislfnee* Small 
ghflSesofbhiendti were BOW hftftded about, wMbineigB 
]iq«eitis; and we fose from the table, "nie ladies were el 
hand, each assiduoiidy pvesenting as with a bftstn> ewssi 
and embroidered towel ; and haring helped as to washt 
We r etur n ed to the reeeption-toom. Here we had chl* 
honks and cedfoe, and preseally an Aimeonan bishop and 
odier company were intmdneed* The bisbq> was a 
fsnnely, portly man, wi& • a large black beaid tursiiif - 
grey, and dressed in a brown silk oassoc aad sash. He 
held in his hand a long fosary^ the beads of which he 
waa cpniiaaafly coanting, two afta time; and on his 
lager, was a rlsrge diamond nng^ which he sesmed not 
aawiUiftg to disphqp. -He was, as ve w^f^wdutmtd^otm 



of tlMM6 bishopi who, according to the diacipfiae oC the 
AnnemaB Ctoch, h«fe no hical habitatkm or fixed Seen^ 
tmt hre air aqibulatofy iife/ always moving fram pUieo t» 
place. Their duty is to payddmicilUtuig^ tisits to the 
diffiB!ieBt=£|milieB» like.the riders appoiiiled by the aauaakl 
aseetmgs of the Qvakeia, and to lepiove and civiect any 
laidty of reHgion, mondB» or manners among their petals : 
diey aie, Iherefofei literally^ the fiririByni, or oveaeers of 
tiie primitive' chvpriia 

The yonnger part of the family were now admitted) and 
pieMnted. to us^. they consisted of nine ot ten bays and 
girls of different ages* firom three to twelve. The com< 
pany exhibited a strihittg' appeaiance of the diadpUne 
of an Armeniae £usily« The diven at the upper end of 
the room was ooeu^ed exehudvely by us straagees; om 
the ligfat^handside sat the ?eneraMe elder and the Insbop, 
and on-tbe left his sonA» with other Armenian men ; at 
the bottom of the room; hriow the st^ stood the wfHnon 
and children, siiem^ regular, and motionless, lilEe a file of 
mutes. We wished to be familial with these beautiful 
children, and one or two fine boys were permitted to 
eome forward* Their manners were remarkabfy pleasing 
and gentle, without ai\y awkward emhanassment. : We 
gane them some little presents, which, with the permissipa 
of their parents, whose looks they consulted, they ac- 
cepted; and then kissing our hands, and laying them on 
their foreheads, they respectfully returned to their places* 
As the Armenians retjue vei^ early' to rest, we departed 
at six o'clock, greatly strudL with the mannen of diese 


fMople, where three geneialMnit Hve together, ia htnaoagr 
And love, and with a reference to yean and eoafition, 
that lennnded na of the- patrianchal agea, when Sarah 
flood at the tent-door whUe Abraham entertained tiM 
atrangen, the sons of Jmg^ eat aceovding to their biith, 
end Joieph saw widi him ohikben of &e tfaud generatiea* 
Nor- does the attBchmwit of fioniltai ceaae with tiiia 
life ; tat kag after death they ehdeowar to hold a ti* 
iionaiy communication widi their parenta' and cfaUdieK 
ThodWelafeiaa of the people of the Eait an not, aa with 
aa/amikll, and icatlBiied in detached plaoia AnMigh 'tfiiir 
Mea; but there are large ceaunon w c ept aei ia'lbf the 
dead ovtaide their tewaa* In A/^maaatf of GoMluiti- 
liople» eaeh aadon has its own ; and the ThHes, Jews, 
l&redka, and Afmemaiis» Ibim immense citieaof die dead. 
That of the Armemana eeeapies a qioce of near an han- 
dled acKS, on a hill that oferlookathe Boaphoros. The 
Tniks, on the death of a fiiendf plant a jonng cypress 
over his grave ; their binying-gnrand» therefore, consists 
of extensive graves of these trees, which they reserve et- 
clnsively to themselves. TheArmemans generally |>lant 
on such occasions a tree* which yields a rennous gam of 
a strong aromatic odonr, which fills the air, and corrects 
ihe exhalations from the graves. They grow to a largo 
fcize, and form veiy picturesque olijects in a landscape, 
nieir cemetery on the Bosphorus is covered with these 

* Plstacdat^nMofhiim. 


tnes* and item its elevated situafioii, tiie view It qoib« 
mands, and the yiew it pi ea e nls, is perhaps the most 
isteresliBg gi^ve in the world* Here whole Azmeniaa 
ApBiiliaB, of two or tiiiee geaerations together, are 4son^ 
alantly aaan aittng Mond the tombs, and holding. paiooBr^ 
oommunicaliant wixh their departed finods* Aoocntfiiig 
to th^ belief, tha sooIb of Ih^-dead pass iato a place 
oaUed Gaymtk, wfaooh is not a pargatoiy* fior fkof safo 
aeither paui net, plcasine, but. retain a ^perfect oon^ckms* 
ttBSS of .tiift past. JroBi this Me tfaeynugr faediliveved 
hf the ebna Mid prayers of. the Uxing, which, the piooa 
Armeaiansi^^.fiiends. -JSiasterMoada^ 
is thogaeat ds^ on whicfa they asBBBible £or this porpasej 
bat every fi^anday, and freqaeatly^we^ida^, asadem^d 
lot the same oljeet. The priest who aocompanies tbeniy 
tet piPQaeds ia th^ tombs^aod reads the prayers-^ the 
dead, ^in wj^idi he is joined hy Ae^uniiy. Thay tfaea 
separate -into groixpa, or aingly uttiog down by favoorite 
giaveft, qall.its inhabitanta ahout them, and, .by the help 
of a. stv^ag ima^naliiQiiu really, seem to convene wiib 
them. Xljiifl pipua aA4 pe4^ve . du^ being perlbnoed 
with their dead Inends, they retire to mme pleasantapoa 
near the placge^ whore. p^vi«jona had been previously 
brooght, and ^bearMly.'Oi^ Ibe aocietjy'Of the Hvingb 
These family visits to the manwiUs of (he departed v» ^ 
Cavoiuito ei^oyment of tj^ paopla. I have fijeqm^ally 
joined thei gnmps without being considered an intruder ^ 
and, I confess, I have always returned pleased, and evei% 
edified* by the piou# dMWgh mistabaq. practice . 


' The island of Marmora lies almost within sight of 
this place, and abounds in maible ; tiiis stone is very 
cheap and abundant, and no other is used in erecting 
tombs. Some of these family mausolea are rich and liell 
sculptured ; others of them are very remaifcably distin- 
guished. The first thing that strikes a stranger, is a 
multknde of- little cavities cut at the angles of fhe stone ; 
these are monuments of Armenian charity. The trees 
abound with birds, who frequently perish for want of 
water in that hot and arid soil. These cups are intended 
to be so many reienrmrs to retun Water for their use, 
as they are filled by eveiy shower of rain. The Arme- 
liiani an' fond of co mm emo ra t i ng the jpfofesnon of 'the 
dead ; they therefore engrave on hii tomb the implex 
ments of his trade, so tixat eiery one may know how he 
had gained his living; but the most extraordinary cir- 
vttDistaiioe isy that they aie also fond of displaying how 
lie came by his death : yov therefore see on their tombs 
the efi%ies of men sometimes huiging, sometimes stran^ 
glsd, and sonie^es beheaded, with their heads in their 
fatfnds. To account for this extraoidinary fondness for 
displaying ^e infamoub death of their friends, diey say 
thlit no Armenian is ever executed for a real crime ; but 
when a man has acquired a sufficient fortune to beocnne 
an object of cupidity to the Turks, he is then, on some 
pretext, put to death, that his property may be confiscated ; 
an executed man, therefore, implies only a man of wealth 
and consequence. This display is a bitter but just satire 
on Turkish justice, though the Tmks are so stupid as nivt 


to ooittprdi^ild it* I bioii|/ht inth ne a "woftliy AnnMiiaii 
priest one day, who, with te^ and trembling, translatid 
for me the inaeriptioBs on tome of diose toinbs. I amiM: 
«oae as a sample : 

Ton see my place of boflal Iiere in this yefdaat field. 

I glTe my Ooods to tfad lloWen, 

My Sonl to IheBegloDs of Death, 

The World I leave to God, 

And my Blopd I shed in the Holy. Spirit. 

Ton who meet my Tomb, 

Say for me, 
** Lord, I have sfained.*^ 

'NotwiliiMaDiing this treatment, the AimaniaiB «ie in 
•higher faronr with- the Tuts than any other trihhiaiy 
|ieopie. They designate the Greeks, '#h«mith%y detest^ 
*' Yesheer," or "Shnres,'' and eoBsiaer' them m; ikb 
-Jeitrs ** Mnsaphir/' or ** Strangers," beean4e4iMQr obm^ 
li^ottt Spain ; butifae Aimemaiis " Baysto," or ** S^fejeet^*^ 
h&Btwm tiieir oomitry is now a pnmnee of Tsfhtiy, w0i 
-diey consider fhem Asiaties, aAd a past of thtmelVM;* 
This fynwt is greatly ei^oeed hy the wealth whieh the 
indostiy and enterprise of the Aimensans bring to the 
impoverithed and lazy Tuite. Th^ aoei therefore, i^ 
fMMBted to all those situatioiis which the Tudis theoMehFes 
fue ineapabte of iUling. Thqy are the Masten of the 

* These are, striotly spcaklog, the deaignattons hy lyhich the 
Turks distinguish these people, though in a loose way all are 
called Rayas who pay the Haiatch, or Capktatioq Tax. 

MCCOVm 0» THt ARMtVlAlf CB11ISTIAN6. 59 

Mttt> sndl cottdttct tilt i4ioIe preoe« of coiniiig moiiey ; 
tikej are the '* Santiis," or bankers, wlio sopply govern* 
awot and individaals with eash inall tbebembaRainiients ; 
liiey are the conductors of the Teiy few maniiCictagea 
which exist in the empire; and they are tiie merchants 
who carry on the whole inlemal trade of Asia* They 
enjoyi howorer^ a pciilovs- |wotection : tibe very fimNv 
th^ an shown ie a SMoe Ibr their desCmction ; for efvy 
man that aeqaifes wealth by its moaas, knows ifatt he hokb 
his life only as long as the circumstance is naknown. 

It ia singular that the Annentans have never shewn 
diO sligfafMt sympathy or ««mmon feding with their 
Chnslian bi«du>0» the Greeks. No Armenian ha^ evst 
yet- been loand to joia their causey nor to assist it ia any 
Wq^ft cither fay BMneyior inloence. Besembfiag Qnakos, 
howevw. In many of thair habita, they are, like iheBB, a- 
cpiftat, pattwe, eOtKr peoj^^ ami greatly aveiee to war* 
Besidos thia, there nnfortifliattely eiist some religiona dil^ 
f we ncea between then and the Grseks^ wkieh enodntlei 
their mataa^ feelings. The GiiddEa despise them for their 
teidity; and, araagiting to^ themselves esdosiTel^ tha* 
name of '* ChNStmas>" they seem to eaclnde the Ama^ 
ns M nfl fiem Ghristia&eommimity. 

The AimenianB, thottgh- food of religioiis books, havef 
httle taste for, or acquaintanoe with, gtaeial literstare* 
They purehase with great avidity all the Bibles fomished 
by the British and Foreign Bible Society. Their patriarefa 
MmctiAned and eaobwaged a Mw edition of the-N«wT«^> 
tament/which the B.9V* lilv* LeeveB> the agent of Uie Bibl« 


Society bas had printod at an AnMnian press at Qaa^ 

stantinople ; and I was encouraged to have a tianriatioa 

made int^ their language, of some of the Homiiiea oU our> 

Church, on account of the Homily Society in LondiUyWhieb 

I left in progress. They hadeaily a printing-office attached 

to the Patriarchate, and another more recently established 

by a piivate ceoipafl^rat KoroaChesm^^ intheneighbeiu^} 

hood of CoDstasKlBnople. They have also a thiid whieh^ 

was set up at the cenvwt' of St. J^azare, in Venioe, hom 

whence has. issued a nuae^r of books in their language** 

Their puUicaCiei&s Are^ however, almost eKlnsivefyconfined 

to hooka on religioas sal>)eetSk I obtained a list of aU the^ 

Itooksponted at the patriaiohal pcesa^fimm the yeai: 1^7,. 

the year of its estabUshment, to the end of the year 1923;; 

It conveys a better idea of the literary taste and progress. 

of the Armenians, thna aay- other ^ixnimentooiild dai In: 

a space oi a .hundred end twenty-five years, only §&y'4mt. 

books were pruited, bat of each of these several edkions* 

Foriy-sevea of them weiie commentaries on the BtUer; 

sermons, books of prayer, lives of saintSj hymns, and. 

psalters, and a panegyric upon tho aagielft* The ^ve not 

on saeied subjects, were, ''An Armenian Orammar,'^ % 

'< Histoiy of Etchmeasin," a/' Treatise on Good B^tuL^i 

yiour," a ** Tract on Precious Stones," and a ** RoaiiaGe 

of the City of Brass." 

The Armenians annually publish an almanack, bat^ 
Uke the Greeks,. Russians, and other branches of tht 
Eastern church, adhere to the old style, rejecting te 
lefonnation of the calendar which the Western Cl^ristiatta 


ideated* Their aJauoMkck, bo#ev«r, is digringukiwi 
l^ADtte pecvUantiet. They call tlie 6th oC F«bniaiy,. 
<gw»ti «m/ bekavat that is, the day in which th^: 
hMt of the ■mt dticaiidi into the air. They daioiM . 
iteie 4he 2SA of Pebniaiy, Gtimfti §ani Mil^ the day. 
OB fdiicfa St deKends into the waten: and the 4th of 
Mneife^tfaey dartingniih at Oemrii $mktJU i m t mk, or th# 
di^itt which iideneiida into the earth, and tenden it fit 
fm att.agrieuhnial piiipoies. Bwidee this, they narifc 
ooeasional ▼ariations of tempeiatare by events which they; 
si^bttey hue oerisionedt The«9th of JiCaseh, and sewn 
days and eight nights after, they call BertUmil mt^, or 
the oold of the old women; becMse, as they say, when it 
fint was noted, a nnmber of old women peiished in th«» 
fin^ in- Older to escape the intensity, of. the eold* The' 
weather, b efa ie and alter this.periotf, is vsiymiU; bat 
donng taj itsidenee at CenstsotiiMple,- i remaihed tiliafe 
esmy year/ -mt this precise peiiod, a N. S* wind set in IvsBft 
the Black Sea, generally aeeontpaaied by a drift, of snow,* 
and the thermometer fell sometimes to the freezing point. 
The Armenian ahnanaek, therelbze, isftnndedonthe con- 
stant obserration of the people, and jostiiied by the sut'- 
prising legdlaiity with which the anomaly ammally occnrs; 
< The Anneidair language has this siagnlar*peculiarity, 
that, difieitat from all others in the East, it is read like 
those of Evrope; from *leflf to tight 4 Tbiv is accounted 
Im by sopposiag it to be a langnage ef modem structure, 
aad the mode of writing it intiodaced among the nation 
after their intereowse with Enropeaas. There is no such 



writing found on the coins or other aaoieat monuments of 
the country. At the prasent day, .even its use is veiy 
limited, being exclnsiyely confined to the peoplethemaeleea^ 
and never learned by thoie widi whom they haare any inter* 
oourae. Almost all AmieniaQs, tfaezeforai axe compeUed: 
te learn Turkish or Italian, as mediums of conmiuniclution^ 
wUch they ofteft pcefer, and mnderstand better dian their 
own. I have met ivnth many Armenians who eodd read 
andwriteboththeselanguagesywho cpuld not tianslale fiv 
me their own books. 

The Anneaians, tkeagb once well kaswn ialiie West, 
when their spirit ttf conuneicial entarpriae cairied theni 
thrangh every part of £afope, are now seldom heard of 
out of Asia^ and tiieb ensteaoe is haidly reodgniied aa & 
Christian people* They an still, however, numerous and: 
nspectable ; and aa their number is daily ineraasing, they 
may yet form the nadeua of Cbristiamly ift the Sast, 
when the unfinrtunate Graeka shall ham been^ e](tenni* 
natod. There are, at the prtsent daj^ 

In the mountains of their native couatiy, about 1,000,00<) 
In Cooataotiaople and the vicinity » < < • 200,000 

In different parts of Persia 100,000 

In India • . . . 40,000 

In Hungary,, and other part$ of Europe • • • 10,000 
In Africa, aQ4 America . 1>00 




" And I heard « Tolce •«( cthmn»9tat^n§, Bcfa«U^ ih% |«i>er- 
aaelc of God U with m^n, and Hs thall dwell with them, 
and they shall be his people, ftud Ood himself shall be with 
them, and b« their 6od."^-«^*~SsT. xxl. a. 

KiMo of the dfiad.1 how imig thaU sweep 

Thy wrath t how loug thy. outcwU weep! 

Two thonsaiid agoniziQCf yean 

Has Israel steeped her hiead ia tea» ; 

The vial on her head been poured — 

Flight, famiAe« shame, the scQarge» the swoid ! 

Tis done t Has hveathed thy trumpet bh«st» 
The TftiBXs at length have wepftheir lastl 
On rolls the host ! From land and wave 
The earth sends op th' ixnranaomed slave ! 
There rides qo gUttving chivuliy. 
No baimer puiples in the ihy > 


The world within their hearts has died ; 
Two thousand years have slain their pride ! 
The look of pale remorse is there, 
The lip, involuntary prayer ; 
The fonn still marked with many a stain-^ 
Brand of the soil, the scourge, the chain ; 
The serf of Afiic's fiery ground ; 
The slave, by Indian suns embrowned ; 
The weaiy drudges of the oar, 
, By the swart Arab's poisoned shore. 
The gatherings of earth's wildest tract — 
On bursts the living cataract ! 
What strength of man can check its speed t 
They come — ^the Nation of the Freed ; 
Who leads their march ? Beneath His wheel 
Back rolls the sea, the mountains reel ! 
Before thei^ tread His trump is blown. 
Who speaks in thunder, knd 'tis done ! ' 

King of the dead ! Olr, not in vain 
Was thy long pilgrimage of pain ; 
Oh, not in vain iirose thy prayer. 
When pressed the thorn thy temples bare ; 
Oh, not in vain the voice that cried. 
To spare thy maddened homicide ! ' 

Even for ihis hour thy heaiit'^s blood streamed ! 
They come ! — ^the Hostof iSie Redteemedl 

What flames upon the dniant sky 7 
'Tis not the comefs sangmne^ye. 


'Tif not the ligfatmng's quvering ipoe* 
'Tis not the sun's ascending fiie. 
And now, as nearer speeds their march, 
Expands the rainbow's mighty arch > 
Though there has burst no thundercbud. 
No flash of death the soil has ploughed. 
And still ascends before tbdr gaze, 
Aich upon aich, the lovely blaze ; 
Still, as the gorgeous clouds unfold. 
Rise towers and domes, immortal mould. 

Scenes I thai the' patriarch's visieiied'eye 
Beheld, and then tajeicied te die y*^ 
That, like the-fltorfs bnni^ =aoal. 
Touched the pole prophet's harp with soul ; — 
That the throafel ieniph» long to sek,. 
Now given, ihavi slar^ of staves^ t«( thee I 
Whose city t^l. WImiI poteHlftle 
Site there.^ King ^ JknH^ f Ite t 
Whom glory covers like a robe. 
Whose scftptteehftOi^ tile Afid gUbe, 
Whom «hapd»a#fiie itod splendimr gnanH 
There sits tkeMan, ''iivlMM»rf«ce:wasvBk«rred»^ 
To wJMwh.todttligBtLb&ir.'th^ kp M » M i 
The weeper in Gethsemane ! 
Down^ia 4iK doalv. eye^'isqnl* Juieei ; 
For now thy iHtend heart inn fori I 
Aye, let thy inai eheak bnin like ftme. 
There sits thy gloiy aadJthj jiMne I 





There wot an eye whose partial glance 
Could He'ef* m^ niHneifms flings' see ; ' 

There was an-ear that still wH^rn/ 
Could listen, to kind praise of nie* 

There was a heait 7%ii^ only made 
For r^'^rtidsk fimief feelings bum f 

And which wh^ne'ei*, alas, I roved,! 
Still longed and ^ined fortny retam.- 

There i&of a fip wliieii alw«ys breathed 
W4d short ^uewelhr ^^ith toner of sadnMs f 

There wm a voice whose eager scuad 
My welcemflriqiolui with'heartftlt gladaesft. 

There was a'ittiad»''«ir}ioBeTigQiOBi pemrem. -* 

On mine its.foslering influence Jdnew ;. 
^/?d called Biy humble talmfs fiDilii,' 
Till tAe/uk ite d^aieit ioys it dicm. 


There wtn a love that oft for m^ ' 
With anxious fean would overflow ', 

And wept and prayed for me, and tonght 
From future ills to gnard-^bit now 

That eye is closed, and deaf that ear. 
That lip and voice are mute for ever ! 

And cold that heart of faithful love, 
Which death alone from mine could sever ! 


And lost to me that aidaot mind» 
Which loved my varied tasks to see ; 

And, Oh ! of all the praise I gained, 
This was the dearest yor Co me ! 

How I, unloved, uBeheered, alone, 
Life's dmaiy wSdemess most tread. 

Till He wh6 loves the brden heart 
Inmevey Inds me. join the dead« 

But, '^Fsdierof Ae&thedesii,'* 
O S ' Then tiiat hear'st Ae orphan's ciy , 

And '* dweUest with the contrite heart/^ 
As well ttlitt " Thy place on high^-^ 

Lord ! thottgit like a Med feaf, 
Tha^s severad from its parent tree,^ 

1 struggle down life's stonny tide, * ' - 
lliat awful tide which leads to Thee ;— 



Still, Loxd ! to thee the voiee of praise 
Shall luring trhonphant from my bre^ -, 

Since, though I tread a weaiy way» 
I trust that helmaum is BLser I 


(To a Toimg I,<ady, with the Floaa Dombivica.} 

A GLASS whichlhou BM^'st lookin, mud disOCfter 

Features as fair as features well may be, 
A glass thou canst Aot bend too fondly ever; 

Young LAnY-VLOwBB, the baxd doth B^ to thee ! 
And with it this waim prayer : May t^y dear bosom 

Never know pain more poign^ait than -the r.08b 
That feeb the wild-bee rustling in its blossom. 

And only this soft pain a moment knows : 

May'st thou- still gxow fair as the lily grow^ 
Safe as the bud within the sweet-briar tree. 

Be bright as beabt*<s-easb round her throws, 
Thy blushes pure as maiden blushes be ! 

But, Oh ! when tbou hast found, like ^ese, a hirer, 

May'st thou not £nd, like these, thy BsrBTR but a 



A Story of tbe Reign of Henry the Eightb. 
6y THB author of *' MAT YOU LIKt IT,*' &Cv 

t • * • • • s • 

1 • ■ : 

/ '^Thahk God ! I have rested well," w^ tiie answeC 
of the old man as he gently laid his hands upon'th^ he«d 
bi his fair' and youthfal grand-daughter. FiaiiGes was 
kneeling at his feet, and meekly receiving the Messing*, 
Mrhich, according tor thia good; grave fashion Of the time* 
'W^.'his morning salafation to her. "And thank jrov 
also, my kind and anxious muse ! How could I db otkierf 
-wlie than recover, with this sweet htse always smxUng 
lenderlyinpon me, and served ever by thes^ delicate anil 
'cateful hands!" And faking thus, he looked ibndly in 
her face, and kissed her, and raised both her sAukll'iiAir 
liands to hisltps. " And now tell me on what day your 
hrother Hubert returned home. I cannot* see why the 
^octors-vhould have kept such pleasant news from me» witk 
.the fear that it would be at first too much for my slowlf ze* 
tuniiog strength* I feel that such welcome newa would 
have restored me even sooner to health. Go, my child, 
«eefc your brother, and bring, him back with you. We iHU 
4A bisakfisBt together tUs inoining. . I would- fain kaom 
moie of tlus ikar. )kiianl bogF; £ac at present, nearly velMdt 


as he is, you and I htsfe seen bat little of him. Poor 
l^oir ! He hath come back to tioiibk>iis times !" 

Frances Woodgate and her brother Hubert were or- 
phans I their home was then with their grandfather, Sir 
Arthur Woodgate. 

Hubert had. returned to England about a week before 
that morning, at a time when but faint hopes were enter- 
tained of the recovery of the aged knight. Little was 
indeed known of his character or disposition ; for he had 
been absent Irom Home since the death of his father, a 
period of five years. 

< He was an nntiertaih tort of person, and he letiub^ 
to England almost as suddenly as he had left it. Frlcncei 
knew nothmg of his intentions, till a tall, handsome maa 
appeared befiue her, in whom she' soon recognixed h«r 
beloved and lofig-alMent brother. 

Pleasant and eniertainmg as Hubert's society was,. Sir 
Aithar and Fraiices soon louni that his leligiote 'opi»> 
nioDS Were nev«r betrayed hf him* H6 ^h^ of poetry 
ind painting-<^e poetry and pednting of Italy^^wiA 
enthusiasm. He seemed, indeed, w^U. acquainted 'wiA 
&e polities, the literature, and the fine arts of the day'; 
but when religion was the subject of discourse, al&oii|jh 
Ii0 politely ftcqluesoed in the opinions of those he loved, 
his manner became cM and lAwtractedin no ceiBomoh 

Th^ old mail's healdi aidendiBd visibly, so that he'dtf 
tBfiulnfldto!aktleadhia.panahdiittdi, to tetutntliMiktfli 
Unieav^FiUkerViiis'recov«iy. ftMrietWiaiyiii 


ker biiMlwr wen .detizedto aeBomJN^y Ifaeif gnnd*- 
£atber. Fraaees vas delighted to ftttend en him j and 
Hubert went» but half unwiUiagly. A eenno^ wae 
iMaebed by a diBtingiii^bed divine, of the new learniqg^ 
one well miled to tiia uneertata and troabled aspect of 
the f^ee* Fismoee and most of the eongvegation were 
albeted even to tean, ^% the praacher spake, with an 
doqneaee that went to the heejt, of Ae peculiar and 
tender can of their h^airenly Father towards hb chikben* : 
and how he wovkL never leave them nor fersake them** 
Onee she' tprned her. tearfal qpea upon her grandfather^ 
fltad upon her brodier, fof whose safety she felt so deep 
and trembfing an aaxielj. A sn^le, it might be a sneer/ 
was on her brother's lip ; and her tears flowed Cuter lliaa 
befofe, bot Uif qpnng hem vdience they flowed was beoeoiQ 

It was m the qpnng of the year of our Loid 1639, thai 
Master Hubert Woodgate retomed from his five years of 
fissaga travel* The climate of England, was not neie 
vaa^ble than were the religioas opinions which the era% 
Hered ef these times seal foidi from his aduUeions and 
ansanctifled heart, calling upon his hapless people te 
bslieve them, erta die. That year was distinguished b^ 
the passing of the BiU oi Six Articles, well named, the 
Bloody Bj^, in Parliaineot. 

Fnnoes had b^en long accustomed to read the Bibk 
di% 10 her grand&thcx. Some days had elapsed .since 
the pacing of th§ Blooffy BiU. They Jh^«i4 daily^ na^ 
hsnrly, of the arrest of some of those with ji^^ Jhqp, 



nvmacquiitai j bat iriie stUf road tlie Bible at thensOaL-: 
hour to. the old man. Hubert began to Mmes 
an imfNutience . of temper which, surprised, his sistw,.* 
l^maceB became unusually calm;* but her diie^ 1^0^^ 
pale, and a aadneaa stole over her whole manner* Sir.. 
Arthur seemed daily to acquire a more vigorous Bpiril;> 
and Jus djaesuBe turned less upon worldly affiurs, and. 
move ^frequently to the promises and encowragemealB of-, 
the hdy Scripturesr-to the joys and glories of that state* 
y^hem the *' servants of the Lord shall setfe him^ and aee- 
his face/' in 'gloiy and eternal joy.— It happened, ane,- 
mfemmg, that (he wea&er being veiy rainy, JBnbeit^ who , 
Vfaaliy epent bis mornings with some of his noble -friendai; 
about eouit, turned his steps to the apartment whidh his* 
gwndfather constantly occiqued. It wes a pleasant par- 
lour on the ground-floor, fiimished, as favourite, audi 
private apaitments often tue, with more attention to 
csiMnfert than to show. 3ir Arthur wa9 always. pleased 
i0 look round upon the books. and manuscript wfaach hadi 
lain undisturbed for yeais about the loom-^the casqww.' 
aed shert-swiud, and a few pieces of dinted asBOW^i 
nduoh he had W4»n in the days of his youth and nao^ 
ho6d. ^< My ddld," said 3k Arthmr to Fnnces, '* I am 
mady to hear you read to me : you may itpiak the Bibie«" 
** Had you not better defer your readiiig a UtUft 
wiuleV cAbA Hubert, .who was leaning on thewiadevr- 
ftame, and who turned his head towaids them as be- 
spoke, irem inlently gazing on something that was passzof. 
i« the street. - -^ 



Whj not Boir, my Hubttt V f»M Fmnoes, quietly* 
Wky not mw?" he o^lied, aomewhat sharply,— 
only because diera are nuiifdoone ▼isiten at 6vr Migfa- 
^oor^ £br. Genid's house, and Ihey n^y pieaie to mafca 
their next call at our gates* Heard yon not their load 
knoddqg at oar neighboar*s gates V* 

I << I did," said Frances^'X^^ her voice Meied,} « jni^ 
faefom yon h^gan to speaJb" 

^'Hafaert/' said the old man, '*yeu may leave the 
wdov open, and oene hither, and sil beside me whili 


" Yob could aot have heard what I said to Frances* 
eir," vsptted Hubert in a hasty tone ; <? you viill peihajis 
meet a most unpleasant intemiptbn to your reading." 

The old man looked up, and turned his eyes fully 
and steadfastly upon Hubert. . " My son," he said very 
grkvely, "I did hear you; but I pmy yton to ieare 
the window, and sit down beside rae.'^ Hubert obeyed 
in a oold silence. Frances laid her hand up<m the Bible* 
aad looking up sweetly and tenderly from her brother to 
her gtandfather, asked of the latter, where she should read. 

** Open the volume," he said, ** at the sixth chapter of 
the Book of holy Daniel. But stop," he added, when sho 
was b^v^ning to read ; and rising up^ he took the Bible 
£m«i before her, and placed it on the table before himself. 
Ranees supposed that he wished her, as he sometimes 
dif, to vmte down the lemaiks which occurred to him 
.when aeazching the sacred text, and she drew a scioU Qi 
jarehment towaids her, and took up her penr~" Yon 


need not tmte to-day, my sweet ctald" said tHe old 
gehtlemaii. Frances said nothing ; but she did not put 
down the pen, and the look that she turned to her grand- 
father seemed (o say, " I am quite ready to write what- 
ever you may speak." 

" Did you not hear your grandfather's command, 
child V* exclaimed Hubert, rising up, and snatohing the 
pen somewhat violently from her fingers. Frances co- 
loured ; but a perfect sweetness of temper strove with the 
hot and painful blushes which deeply dyed her &ce. 

"My poor children!" said Sir Arthur; but he checked 
himself, and they only heard his voice groveing firmer and 
more eloquent, with words which the inspiring Spirit of 
God hath recorded for the comfort and encouragement 
off his own faithful children. Frances hung upon those 
words, and she felt new hope and strength flow into her 
heart as she listened. * ' How true of him / " she thought, 
as she looked upon the good old man when he read-— 
*' Then said these men. We shall not find any occasion 
against this Daniel, exc^t we find it against him con- 
cerning the law of his God."— How like him ! — ** Now, 
when Daniel knew that the writing was signed, he went 
into his house, and his windows being open in !ii6 
chamber toward Jerusalem, he kneeled upon his knees 
three times a-day, and prayed, and gave thanks befbre 
his God, as he did aforetime." And when he came to 
the words — " My God hath sent his angel, and haAk dntt 
the lions' mouths, and they have not hurt me : farasmnek 
as before him innocency was found in me; and alao faefbr^ 



^100, O king, have I done no hurt," — when he came to 
those words, Iier soul gathered from them a sweet and 
happy assurance. "I will not doubt," she laid to henelf, 
« though danger and distiets may not be far from our 
path. I am sure a safe and holy track will be shown, 
wUch oar feet may take \ I am sure an angePs hand 
will lead us forth in peace I" Her attention was here 
suddenly called t» a loud and lengthened knocking at the 
gatot Hubeit rushed to the catenent. 

" Is it here, Hubert 1" inquiied Franeet aaiioiisly. 
. " It is here. They are cbae at hand, waiting at the 
gate for admission. I espected ttus— >! knew it would be 
so/' he eiftlaimed almost fiercely* 

" I expected nothing else," said the old man« in a 
quiet and decided tone; "you dionld be calmer, my 
dear Hubert ; a resolved spirit needs not the aid of ncN 
Icaoe*" Again the knocking was repeated, but even more 
loudly* Hubert sprung up, anid strode fitrioualy towards 
the door. ** You will romain here, Hubert," cried the 
old man, with the same calmneis but in a much louder 
voice: ''you would not disobey me!" — ^but observing, 
as he spoke, the witfiil determination of Hubert to disob^ 
him, he added, more softly, " you would not leave your 
graadfiither and your u8ter-*your very young and helpleis 
sister V' Hubert turned angrily from the door, and flung 
hiauelf down upon a seat. Half unconaciously, Frances 
had taken from the table a favourite book of her own*, 
one in which her. mother had written some of the most 
beivltfttl and afieeting of the Ftahns of Di(vjd, and manj 


^e prayers and meditatioDs, some of which, beiag writMk 
o& the sacrament of the Lord's Supper, declared ver^ 
plainly, sentiments ezprestfy fort)idden by the Bloody 
Act. Frances had never given it a thought, that the book 
so dear and usefal to her, was then, in some respects, «nf 
of the most dttgerous she could have opened, and quite 
nnconsctously she had brought it into the room in her 
hand. Her brother snatched it rudely from her, and, ere 
she opened it, he dakhed it to the ground. At that instant 
the- door was thrown open, and a taJl, 8tem*>feattu«d man 
stood before them. AAbther followed him, who appeaied> 
by his more humble mamier and meaner dress, to be 
merely a servant or attendant on his companion; ' *• 
** Your presence might Ineve been announced, ar, ^nd 
your ei^ dofibd," said' HvbeaPt, turmng hangkdly nmnd^ 
bwt not rising firom his seat. 

** I believe that I need no apology for my intrusion^ 
young gentleman,'' said die man, veiy drily, ** but this 
paper," and he pointed at the warrant whieh' lie held. 
<«We]I,ar!" cried Hubeit, 
" Well, sir!'' repeated the man, and a slight ezpresi 
sion of insolence mingled with the dry and determined 
tone of his voice. " Hsid I expected this reception, I 
might have introduced more than this faithful follower to 
yiAif presence, and not left my other attendants withoat." 
""But the cause of this interforence 1 I would 'know 
the cause, sir : you will tell me this, if you please." 

'* I shall-answer nothing more to your questions, (deU- 
vered as thev are,) but, that you aire summoned on the 


«liarg8 of ofiending i^nst the Bill of $ix Articles* lately 
{MU»ed in Parfiament." 
• "But what is proved 1" 

" Your own consciences can best veply to that» and the 
studies which I have, doubtless, inli^pted,'' he added* 
glanoisg his egre coolly fiom thi9 open Bible to the book 
which Hubert had flung down, and which lay at his feeth 
" But, sir," hecontuiued, addressing himself to Sir Arthur, 
V my buuaess is chiefly with you: are yoi( jeady V 

«I am <|aile ready," said the Ipalm.old.nan; and, 
plaisiBg his hand on his walkiDg-*cane, he was rising up-* 

" Oh, my own, my dearest gmndfaflier," cried Frances, 
wildly, and she flui^ herself down at his feet, and threw 
her anncs finidly round his aged CoRn^ ''you must not g» 
Qave you the heart V she exclaimed fervently, tanuaig to 
the oommissioner,^-" Have you the heart to huny him 
away thus? He is so feeble-nm very feeble 1 He has 
searoely left his sickrfaed^" Still the man came forward, 
silently and stendy pointing to the wanant in his band. 

** Stop ! Begone, instantly ( .Touch him at yeur peiil, 
fellow 1" said Hubert, stejqping at once before Sir Arthur^ 
and his rage seemed deep and dieadfui! Then, with a 
leok of umutterable scorn, he laid his hand upon his 
swoni— '< NoWy sir!" he shouted, drawing forth the blade. 

-" Peace, peaee, my aon i" cried the old man, putting 
down his grandson's raised hand with his own weak and 
exkendedaim* TShame on thisunholy violence. Remem* 
ber who hath said, .'. Put up thy sword into its places for 
they thattake 4p» swoid,. shall perish by tha sword.' 1 



do crnmnand yott not to inter^, my son, between. tkui 
gentleman and myself. As I told you, I have looked 
forward to Ais hour, and you need not fear forme* You, 
Iny good sir/' and he turned to the commiwiioner, ''will 
excuse the rasbnew of one, who is stffl green in yean, 
and moire watm in afi^ction for me, than piactiBei in 
ftfudence, or," he smiled^ " I may add, cddliQr to others.'* 
The c^icer wa» struck hy the courteous, and even 
winning mann|^ of the aged knight ; and when he addcd^ 
*' May I beg you to aitdown beside me, and to read' to 
ioe the warrant you have brought T" the - man isplied 
kindly, and; sittmg ^krwn, opened the warrant* 'Mlise. 
up, my tweet oMd!" said the old man, pressmg* his lips 
to the feiehead'ofhiv lovely gniod>4aaghter, and gendy 
withdrawing the arm ' which had partly encircled the 
khttHngmaiden,-"-^' rise up, while this gentleman is about 
to comply witii my request.'^ Frances rose up instantly*^ 
abd fiubert walked away to tiie fertber end. of the romn. 
When the warrant was read. Sir Arthur thanked thie 
officer^ and then tunang to Hubest and Frances, said, 
"My children^ you will, I trust, make no oppoation/to 
my* departure. Hubert, my good Hubert, believe me, you 
wiU mily iignie me by any untimed violence. — ^Naw, 8ir» 
I wSl go with you. I obeervei that in the- warrant, the 
names of my-grandchildren are not mentioned; they, are, 
A«<efoie, ^Ree to remam. iieoe.-^ome hither, my .iond' 
Maigeiy," he said tohis Jbtouaekeeper, a tried and iaithfol 
wtenuuii (who had followed theiofiner to the apaortment* 
and who stood and wept withoi|t .ceasing in the dooc;^ 


my,) *<yoia wiUbeveiy cmM of 74mr young murtnM. 
and n^ver leave her till I •^-^'' 

" Yes, yes, my deeieit giaad&tber/' . said Fraac^ji 
before he oouM fiaish his Beatenoe, '* Maigoy will take 
ewe of every thiBg;- but, for the piese&t, not of me. I 
eaanet leave my kind protector: indeed, indeed, I 
cammt," and she gently drew his arm within hv own, 
and terning to her bfotfaer, said, " Come, Hubert, wearei 
leady! Are we not?" . 

'< I am aeifyto.part from, yeu," rspUed Hubert, and 
Fmnees eland with aatonJshment at htm when he con- 
tiniied, (wtdi -a manner wfcoUy <ohainged froni his late im« 
petuesily,) *' I am.8ony to patt from you, but I. shall-not 
go tot prison.'^ . Having said. this, he bowed giavely and 
faaughtify io the officer^ and qnitted ^ joorn* 
• fiic Aitbar bad, at the time of his vpoiiveiy* .a man- 
aenrant, whom he had disdoverad to be a thief* He had 
been lepealedly on the point of diadiarging the man, and 
had always leiented; being- nnwiUing, in the Chiietian 
kindness of* his tUsposition, to send theLfUlow without a 
ehaiaeter i^on the wwld. Bat die offimce had been so 
ofteneommitted, that Sir Arthur had felt it his ^Utty to 
rebuke the man, not only seriously, but sharply,- and to 
threaten, that if &e crime- were once morej«peated, he 
would deliver the man over to Ihebjostice of tibe puUic 
laws. Instead of feettng gtatitude towards ^ kind and 
finbearing master, the wretch nuzturad in his heart a doap 
and bitter emnity, at having been so often eipoaed;.Aad 
fiirgot the many pardons he had leeeived, in the onn 


threat which had been pronoanbed upon him. This fellow 
was by profession a Romanist — by profession only ; for 
not one grace of the faith which he avowed, existed in his 
heart or conduct. The opinions and charaeter of Sir 
Arthur Woodgate were well khown, and his influence 
much dreaded by the bad and designing amon^ th^ 
Romanists ; for his principles and his' practice wem so 
consistent, that many respected and admired his opinion* 
merely because they saw that those opinions were hotnd 
by him ; just as we talue a tree wh^ we see the &ie fmit 
tifhieh It bears. The {Spies'of Bonner had formed an 
aicquaintance with this servant, and had even introdnoed 
him to the presenpd of liiat bold, but crafty prelate* 
WHh a power peculiar to &e bad, Bonner suooeeded- in 
giviDg the appearance of a religious du^ to a scheme of 
iafiany, vAikih he rather hinted at, tbaa d^krad, during 
this mtei-view; and with a fkciHty as peculiar to those 
who love to let a troublesome conscience be duped iatd 
wickedness, Ephraira Peridns (for so the servant mtd 
named) me^ly and qdetly yielded to the conviction, that 
by betraying histnister in tMs world, he should save his- 
soul from everlasting bumihgs in the next, and entitle 
himself to the high favour of his God. The wretch pib^ 
fited by his master's iHiiess, when Frances and the <dd 
knight were absent fpom their favourito parlour, and, for 
once, refosing the money and jewels whilsh might have 
been found and stolen, he lookedfor, and diseovered, what 
he* had been told to search for-^-^pers* Bonner saw 
with xrittch secret satisfoction that he had -got into hk. 


posMflikm a manMcript in wJuch Sir Aitbor bad A|Uy 
gitenkisopiiueiift on theiUspttied points of ieligion.L Tha 
dangning priest toreout afew Waves from Uia middle of 
the booki and it was carafuUy letoned to the place fron\ 
whence it had bean taken* A few days after Sir Arthur'a 
zecoveiy, Peikios had come \xp ta him apparently ia giaat 
dietresB, and begged for leave of absence, that he migbl 
attend the death-bed of a veiy dear brother, of whom ha 
had not heard for many y^aiPt and of whom, in. fiic|». na 
one had ever heard tiU then* Tba fallow depArted, pitied 
and unsuspected, with. a. handsome piesent of moae^ to 
pay .the expenses of his jouraey, and witb a few articles of 
silfer plate, which. were not>nwnon use^ nor likely tQ., 
beinqnired-after for soma length pf time* , , ,{ 

It is well known that the desigmng Romanists over- 
reaichod themselyea in the suoceas attending the pessiag 
of the Bill of the Six Article^. TM seirerity and extreme 
injnatice of. the BiU was so glaring, that, although no 1^ 
than five . hundred offenders were discovered and sent^ to. 
prison in fourteen days, the king foresaw the fatal efectflt 
which must have attended such unwarrantable proceedings^ 
apid the prisoners ware not burnt, but, wi^ very few exoep«^ 
tions> were set at liberty. Sif Arthur Woojdgate was opa 
of the hapless few for whom, no oiider of liberatytn came* 
Inquiries were vainly made as to the cause of his, defeen* 
tion; no answer was given: indeed, a mystery that waa 
never wht^ly-deaied, hung over his affairs. It was sus- 
pected, however, or more than suspected, that Bonner wsa 
the chief party in the pei»ecution kept up against him* ^ 


Frances Woodgate had almost grown tired of hoping; 
as month after month pafissed away, and 1^ her beloved 
and venerable grandfather skill a close prisoner. The 
Sj^t of the old man was evidently supported by a stiength 
iar more than hnman, his- cheerfulness never failed, and 
piety and content dwelt in that desolate prison with him 
and his feir grand-daughter. But the confinement and 
hard £ue of a prison smted ill with the declimng strength 
of his infirm irame ; and Frances wonldnt and gaze upon 
him as he slept, till her faith was well nigh failing : then 
tiie soul seemed to have retired from his wast^l featuies» 
leaving only ihe haggard ghaatljjiess of death behind^ 
From her brother she had never heard since the day that 
he leijt her to go with her poor ,old grandfather to prison ; 
but she wa». sometimes officiously told by tiie few persons 
vkh- wh<mi she held any di8eoui8e\ that Hubert was still 
about the couxt, and sharing in all the gaieties there ; and 
his strange, and, to all appearance, unpardonable conduct, 
made the weight of her anguish at times almost too heavy 
to be bomor One night, she was kneeling at the farther 
end of (lie little vaulted chamber in wfai«hh« father sl^t, 
and praying with her whole heart for a poor lad, one 
Bichard Mekins, who, owing to the in&mal and cruel 
bigotiy of Bonner, was to be burnt the next morning* 
Suddenly, she heard her name called in a loud whisper, 
and on turning h^ head, she saw that a hand beckoned 
her to the very email cell in which her own pallet was 
placed. She rose up and stuped lightly to the oelii le&t 
she sbouM awaken her fattier A man put a letter int» 


her hand, and bade her piomUe to keeptheinfoRMtion it 
contained, locked within her own boiom. Then he pu(t 
down the lamp he had brought, and left her. 

The letter was from her brother: it accounted for hai 
long ulence, and even declared that the kindest pnrposer 
had been hidden under his apparently cruel and unnatural 
conduct. It contained a' proposal which she was conii« 
dentljr expected to accede to, informing her that the 
trial of Sir Arthur, for oflbnding against the Six Articles, 
would take place within a few days from that time. 

The hour of ther trial was at hand ; and Sir Arthur, his 
fair and sorrowing grand-daughter still at his side, wasted 
from his small, close cell, to the presence of his accusers 
and his judge. He looked about him, like one waking 
from a painful dream ; and some who had known him in 
more prosperous days, burst into tears when they beheld 
how changed he was by sidmess and by long imprison^ 
ment, how fearfully thin and suiAen his face hadbeednm, 
and how loosely his old and Areadbare garments hang 
upon his'wasted limbs. And many hearts were touched 
#ith pity and tender admiration, as their eyes fell upon 
the meek and slender gtrl who sate close beside her grand* 
father, fondly clasfnng one of his tiiin hands in hers, and 
watching, with all a woman's delicate pereeptioB and 
trembfiog sensitiveness, the sfigfatest changes of faiacottn« 
tenance. Some had thought that Sir Arthur was parth^ 
inseariUe to what was going forward : he had been for 
awhile overcome and faint, with the unusual exertion of 
comiiig even the short distance from bis cell.' When 


Bonner nMe up to speak, the old man showed at ooc^ 
that he was in .the perfiect pessessioft of all his mental 
faculties. Steadfast and keenly ha £zed his eyes upon 
the face of his accuser, and it was obvious that not a 
word escaped his attention. 

Haidly had the trial commenced, when Frances rose 
up, trembling and bhitiiing, and asked some question of 
the court, which was, however, almost inaudible, she 
spoke so faintly. She was instantly attended to, and 
kindly enconiaged to^epeat her question. She had asked 
pJeiiBiision to take minutes of the prosecution : BoiWier 
•b^acted; but the irequest was f^ranted, and one of the 
offieen of the court led her- to the table inuncdiiately 
below the bar, where a seat was set for. her, and pens 
and paper placed before her. 

.' Many false and improbable chai^ were faxought 
against the old kn^t ; and others, in which theie was» 
be felt, some mixture of truth, but truth so distoited^ so 
inw^ed in misr^presentlktions and perplexitias, that the 
noble prisoner often shook his head, as hopeless to escape 
from a web of error and crusty woven together with such, 
deep and d^tish cunning. Still Frances continued to 
write, like a creature of mere mechanism, had not her 
iear^ sometimes fadlen heavily upon the paper, and her 
small and quickly-moving hand betrayed by its trembling 
wliat a force of anguish wrung the heart within her. 
For avi4iile; so mild and specious were the manners of 
Bonner— so profoundly respectful, as he turned towards 
the aged prisonepr-^that .those who knew him not,. «aigbt 


liftte beHeved him, when he cipu M ie d hia itlucUaolD 
proceed in his accnsatioB agaioBt the prisoner. But there 
was a sudden and dancing spaiUe in hie eyes, just evi- 
dent fi>r a moment, and a slight tone of «cultation in his 
voice, whkh betrayed too well tothe keeti obsenrer, how 
eager «nd seU^Msfied <he was when he drew forth the 
prsoAi with which, he was to support his most serious 
ehaiges. - They were the pages which had been torn 
out by him from the msniiseript purloined hf ^hiaira 

' '' Does the prisoner clasB these papais T LetthMbhe 
handed to him/' said the judge. ' 

^ He does, my Imd,*^ was the reply* 

" Is the hand'writing bis V* 

" It is not, n^ lord/' cried Fnmees,: who had been a 
nane^ observer of all -that' passed, and as she started up, 
a smile' of eager de]ig:ht beamed over her wheleiace;*- 
*' If -is not his wiitiB^— it is mine. These is not a woid 
of his^wrifing in those pages. See ; eotupue the hand« 
wB&ig:, leKier by letter, if you please, withthis;". aiMi 
she heM up the papers on which she had just been 
writing. <■ '4 

'^Berfaaps, my lord," said Bonner, smoothly, "thf^ 
child wrote, as she does now, from the thoughts. an4 
woids of ano^r." . , 

'<l%e^, shedid!" cried the dd knight, with a loud 
voice; "the thoughts and words were all. min&^tbe 
writing only heTS,-^ear, innocent child V* 

Sstily and hopelessly the poor girl dropped back upon 


her Beat, clespmg her hands in speechlesa woe, while the 
tean streamed over her pale cheeks. 

When the old gentleman was called upon for his de-< 
fence, he said little, hut that the offensive opinions (which, 
instead of denying to be his, he was welV contented ta 
avow) were not, though written, intended for pnbljcation ^ 
that he had ne?er shown them to any ejyes but those of 
hia grandchild, whom he had employed (owing to th^ 
dimnMff of his sight, and the unsteadiness of his b;^ w lst 
being near the age of fourscore) to write for him : that he 
knew that she herself could not understand, or, at least, 
feel much interest in what she had written. He wondezedt 
he said, how the papers pxpdnced could have beei^ disco- 
vered, except by some person well acqnaii^ted yniii his 
private conceriis : they had been in a secret drawer of his 
a^JbmaiL He knew that the opimons exj^wssed were on 
^sputed points, and perhaps, according to the Bill of the 
Six Axticles, they might be aoQounted heretical, though 
they had been taken by hun.fitom the Holy Bibley4uid ai^ 
other anthenty. He loved his life, and would fein linger 
a little while longer on the journey to his eternal home; 
but he prayed to have no other will but that of his des- 
pised and penecuted Master, Christ^ And then rising 
finm his .seat, and lifting up his arms towards heaven^ 
with a look and manner which struck a reverential awe 
over the whole assembly, he soleqmly commended him- 
aelf to the cave of his God ; and praying for a blessing m^ 
all present, sat down, calm, digni£ed, and cheerful. 
The judge now requested, that if any persons could bear 


ietttmoiiy in fkvofnr of the prisoner, the]r would come into 
court, and ttiey should be heud. 
' Instantly a murmur rose from one quarter of the court, 
and the crowd gate way, while a tall and handsome young 
ihan, of a noble and somewhat haughty carriage, stepped 
f6rdi, and with a powerful but pleasing voice, demanded 
to be heaid. Frances raised hertelf, and recognising at 
a' glance her brother Hubert, the pen dropped ftom her 
fingerr, and she sat Hie one suddenly paralysed. 
' " T have wdOsd with some hnpatience," said Hubert, 
''and wiA no fihle Weariness and sichness of heart, tea 
this day. It hath come at last, and I rejoice. I hava 
preiehted no petitions in private ; 1 have had no inters 
views in private with those in power. The accusation 
is now made in public against (his helpless old man, and 
in public I now meet it with prooft, that this prosecution 
has been, I will not say unjustly carried on, butftnmded 
dn' a deep and grievous mistake." 

''The felbw is himself a hefetie, my loidt" cried 
Bonner, unable to restrain his rage-—'' a most damnable 
heretic! and Ae grandswn to the doting oid fool that 
hadi jusf made so dull and unlearned a defence beioM 


But the infkmous prelate had met with his match 
fit deep and specious talent. With a profound otiei- 
toice, but with a smile fall of meaning, Hubert ex* 

" I crave pardon of my worthy and most noble lords, 
bat I am no heretic. There is not the slightest shade of 


doctrine in which I do not ag^ree most cordially" (and he 
laid his hand upon his heart) "with the eradite and 
deeply-considered opinions of his highness. King Heniy, 
whom God preserve ! With so deep a.ieveience, with 
so- perfect a faith do I subscribe to every letter of those 
Six most sacred Articles, for ofiending against which, my 
poor deluded grandsire is accused here,- that I woiiki 
gladly yield my life in their suppmt. I come hither to 
be questioned, if you please it, on them all.' With, thee, 
most holy prehite V and again he bowed to Bonner, " I 
have; if I may presume to say ;so, but one and the same 
mind upon all these most important points l*\ - His coun- 
tenatice, while he spoke, -wose such an ingenuous ex-. 
pression of manly yet modest sineerkf , and there was so 
grave a dignity about his manner, that even Bonner was. 
staggered for awhile, as he looked upon him.-—" As for 
my grandfather," he continued, "with him, those who 
have attended him in prison well know I have 
intercourse since the day of his arrest, when, bysmne 
chance, I was with him ; but then I was aaealously dis- 
puting with him on these very points of doctrine, being» 
even at that time, ignorant of the state of his inteUecls, 
and afterwards opposing in too hasty a manner the oom*. 
flussion which ordered fasm to be imprisoned " 

'* Stop, ' sir, stop !" exclaimed Bonner, with a hurried 
voice, " repeat what you saftd : I do not quite undentand 
you. What do you mean by that word intelkctt ? You. 
would not pretend"^— <" 

" J mean,'^ interrupted -Hubert, slowly, but irery sq-i' 


IfeBUily , atid in a voice that wu dfiittncdy heaid thiott 
Ae couit — " I meaB, that Sir Aitfanr Woodgate is not of 
sane miiid, and what I de aisert, I will prove. I have 
lim affidavits of his medical attendants and others, to the 
heL I have witnesses also in court from among the few 
friends and servants who have seen him since his last 
mmm, to piove that his leason was disoidered by that 
ittness, and that he is at this vefy moment insane, or, in 
plain woraSy mad* 

' The old inight had repealedty, but in vain, attempted 
to be heard, and he vrooM now have spoken ; bnt the 
jndge commanded silence, and then ^^oceeded to read 
the' affidavits, and to swear, and examine, and cross- 
examine the witnesses. They were also examined and 
dois-ezamined by Bonner and others* Bot Hubert had 
sb persuaded the witnesses into a belief that the deceit 
was e^ea meritorioos which might save the life of so 
virtuous and beloved a friend as Sir Artimr Woodgate ; 
he had so tutored and prepared them for eveiy perplexing 
qnestibn that could be put to them ; he had, in Aon, 
CDnsidered and arranged every thing with such deep 
thought and consummate talent, and yet made the evi- 
denoe so plain and simple, Aat a settled conviction of the 
truth of what he asserted was gradually talcing possession 
cf many minds, when Bonner, vrho had sate ibr a time, 
vHdIr his eyes bent upon the ground in troubled thought, 
cinne forward, and looking steadfastly upon Frances, 
sAid, " But there is one witness, a principal witness, 
#hMn we have not yet exttnined— &at young gentle- 



woiaaii* Wkh your pennissioo, my locd, I would address 
a few questions to her." 

Fratices, however, seemed to hear him not. Cold and 
motionless she sat, her arms folded, her lips unclosed, 
and her eyes fixed in a vacant staie. The violent throb- 
bings of her heart, which were plainly perceived (pnckly 
moving the modest folds which covered her bosom, alone 
declared her a creature of life* In a moment her brother 
stood beside her, and taiking her hand^j gently raised her 
from her seat, saying aloud* as he quitted her, " You 
wall know if I have <poken t^ truth." 
^ Bonner again addressed her, but she paid no heed to 
him. Sinking upon her knees, and fervently raising her 
clasped hands, she cried aloud^^V'Oh, Spirit of Truth ! . 
who canst alone guide me untoalliruth, do thou teach 
and support me in this agony. Help me, for the sake of 
Him in whose Hps golle was not found ; that no &lse 
principle may mislead me, no fear of man may daunt mt, 
but that I may speak the truth boldly, and as I ou|^ to 
speak !» And 'now," she said, haying risen up, " no one 
need question me ; £[>r I will speak unasked. Sir Arthur 
Woodgate, my holy and my dearest grandsiie, is not mad ; 
but has ever displayed in his aetioos a ctear and sane 
mind» and ever spoken the words of truth and soberness. 
I would to God that all who hear me this day wem alto* . 
gather such as he is !' I have tended on him by^iay^ and 
sat all night by his sick-bed. From my earliest ohiUhood 
to the present hour, I cannot recal a day in the which 
I have not seen him, and 19 the which I have not alwaya. 


fonsA him, hot only the kiodett friend, not only the faelMrt 
in principle and practice, but the wisest, the most nUie- 
ludly sane in intellect, of any person I have ever known* 
Yes', yon think me cnel, HvbeTt,-^un&atural," she ee** 
tla«ed, in a voice of nwunrful tenderness, " I see you de, 
and I must tisar your anger : Ood koows, this struggle 
hii' half broken my heart I But hear me : aU may seem 
daric and lost lo you, but be assured of this, Ispeakiveas 
ftdth imd deef^ooiMiellon.i^Woiihi te Qod^ou had gtvea 
heed to the 'wMs when last you heard them— that you 
had caught their spiric, aatt learned tne. wisdom ttom 
them! My God will send bis angel, and his servant 
shall not be hurt ; forasmuch as .before his Ood innooency 
is found in him, and also before his king he has done bo 
hurt^" She looked ^around for her brother; but he was 

The trial proceeded* The judge summed up the wv- 
dsBoe,— 4he juiy gave their vesdiet, and that verdict was» 

' Fiom the first, Sir Arthur had expected no other 
▼eidict. ' He was prepared to die, and he heaidj with a 
Mveet and even cheerful composure, that he was to yidd 
his last breadi in cruel burnings at the stake I 

When the sentence was pronounosd, and the trial over, 
the old man begged permission to say a few words, which 
beiog allowed to him, he spake thus, with the dignity and 
oomposnie of a spirit above the world : - 

" I stand before you, my friends, as a dying man* 
My doea' is prosou^ed -, I iiave almost done with this 


ivoild— I piay you to foig^ that I am a co^desui^ pAf 
sonar, and to h^ar bm as a friend. I shall hafe to thank 
Ood that I have been biought hither, and that mjf 
wotIUms life is paid as the forfeit^ if my words may bav6 
any nvght with. ycm. X am an old man I I have aeisii 
many changes iamy kmg life, and learned some wlklon 
hy^Kpavienoe. I wonUf warn and cctonsel you all against 
these idle dispatations, this piiUic stiife of woids, which 
tendeth not to godly eifificatioa. I Inesee, that, ahoild 
these iBspiitings about abstruse points <ii doctrine con'* 
tinne, iken will be adrcadfiil havoc made amon^ the flbeh 
tf Clmist^s sheep. I woald entreat yon Mter t6 love 
mexcy, and to do justice, and to vralk htonbly with yoiir 
Ood. Whextt do we find^thtoughout the sacred volmne^ 
long learned disputations on ^ese subjects? Wheie dd 
we find the pennission to pervert them to sources of stztfe 
with our brethren? What need is there thai we, poor, 
fiUIible creatures ! should be skilled to answer and explain 
Ike why and the hmo in the deep doctrines of dur holy 
ftuth 1 Nor are we called upon to dispute abou^ but to 
make a good use of, the MeOiags of the Ihicharist. Do 
wQ stop to dispute about the nature of the feed we eat^ 
or to l«Eum by what process it is convened into the blood 
within our veins 1 We rather eat ouf bread vrith thank- 
ftilnett, and live and timve upon its wholBBoane nourish- 
ment " 

The noble prisoner would have continued ; but here^ 
with a torrent of low abuse, Bonner interfere(^, and called 
fondly upon the jud|^ to dtsmiss the court. . Hisdema^ 


was' complied with instantly ; and, half leaning on, half 
supporting liis meek and trembling grandchild, Sir Arthur 
Woodgate returned to his prison. 

On the eve of the daj appointed for the burning of the 
venerable saint, his grandson was admitted to the cell to' 
lake his last leave of him. Sir Arthur was asleep, with' 
his thin, pallid Ace resting on the ann of his fair and' 
youthful companion. 

" You are just in time to say ' Farewell,' and to 
receive his last blessing," said Frances, with a sweet and 
cheerful voice. " I have seen deadi before, Hubert," 
she added, in'a whisper, " and surely the !<Mirful change 
wl^ldi immediately precedes death, has here taken place. 
How good and gracious our heavenly Father is ! You 
see, my Hubert, had your scheme succeeded, still we 
should have wept together to-night over the corpse of this 
our Jiiest and devest friend. All your exertions would 
hav^' proved fruitless.** 

She ceased spea^g, for she percdved that the sound 
of her voice disturbed the sleeper. Once, and only once, 
when they had watched about an hour beside his couchj 
the dying patriarch opened his eyes, wi^out endestvOuring 
to raise his head from the aim of his loving and tender 
child. He saw Hubert, his face bathed in tears, hit 
hands joined in ptayer,' kneding beside him. Frances 
guided his feeMe hand till she had placed it on the head 
of her brother, and tiie old man felt what she had donca 
and smiled. With a voice still calm and distinct, he 
bleBsed his repentant son, and then he said, '* Gome near 

96 THE martyr's child. 

Yet, who shall form thine infant sighs 
To syllable the first brief prayer 1 

And who shall point thee to the skies, 
And say, ** Thou hast a Father there?" 
And who shall watch with ceaseless caxe« 

Lest thy young st^ unheeding stray 
Where Pleasure plants the secret snare. 

And Hope's seductive smiles betray 1. 

O ! could I bear thee hence, while yet 
The strife of passion is unknown. 

Ere guilt her fatal seal hath set. 

Or earth has mark'd thee for its own, — 
While Nature's debt of death alone 

Is all mortality must pay, — 
To gaze upon th' eternal throne. 

And swell the glad unceasing lay ! 

But now J leave thee — not alone*- 
More welcome far were solitude ; 

For He, who ne'er forsakes his own, . 
E'en in the desert, vast and rude, 
Might bid the ravens bring, thee, food. 

Or streams gush forth amidst the wild, 
^ Or guide the wanderings of the good 

To seek and save his handmaid's child. 

Hilton's blindnss». d7 

I leave thee to thy mother's foes, 

I leave thee to the foes of Heaven ;-^ 
Yet, do Heave thee but to those 7 — 

Lord ! be the guilty thought foigiven ! 

O t if she strive as I have strtven. 
With stormy vrmds On life's rough sea. 

May she by warring waves be driven 
To find a haven. Lord, with thee ! 



Whvn Milton's eye ethereal light first drew. 
Earth's gross and cmnVroas objects dheek'd his view ; 
QuidL to remove these barriers from his mind. 
Nature threw ope th' expanse, and struck him Mind : 
To him a nobler vision then was given — 
He closed his eyes on earth, to look on heaven ! 




** And wept to see tlie peXtiM of life di^ide,*^ 


Here, the companions of oar caieless prime, 
Whomfortone^s.yariotts wqys had severed loag 
Since that fair dawn^ when Hope her vernal song 

Sung blithe, — ^with featwes marked by stealing timej 

At these restoring i^irings, are met again! 
We, young adventurers, on life's opening road, 
Set out together :-^ their last abode 

Some hare sunk silent — some awhile remain — 
Some are dispersed :— of many, growing old 
In life's obscurer bourne, no tale is told. 
Here, eie the shades of the long night descend. 
And all our wanderings in oblivion end, 


The parted meet once more — and pensive trace 
(Marked by that hand unseen, whose iron pen 
Writes, " Mortal change," upon the fronts of men) 

The creeping furrows in each other's foce. 

" Where shall we meet again V* reflection sighs. 
" Where? — ^In the dustl" Timb, rushing on, replies. 

Then hail the hope that lights the pilgrim's way. 

Where there is iiMthor change nor daiknesa, nor decay ! 



" Foxes haft bolM, and binds of the air Yulw ncsli ) but tli« 
Son of Man hath not where to lay his head." 

The last bright glance of sunset sheds below 

Its glory ; and the roseate beams that spring 

From the recess of light, in splendour bring 

The sun's icreweU ; such messengers as throw 

Open the gates of morn, and shut the skies 

When shifting radiance oi a thousand dyes 

Is settling into gloom. All creatures know 

This hour. The rooks' dark phalanx homeward flies. 

The bee her cell hath found, or closed her wing 

On scabious wild. Yea, every breathing thing. 

Cradled in down, or silken web, or bed 

Of woven leaf, or sheltered covert, lies : 

All, save The Onb who each warm covering spread : 

Hb only had not where to lay Hzs head. 


B£AUTT-<>reniember that change and decay 

Will puisne in your path, as the night follows day : 

Fiide — ^bear in mind that your form is of clay. 

And will rot with the meanest that stands in your way : 

Wealth — ^that you are (ke the rainbow's bright ray. 

Unsubstantial as clouds, and more fleeting than they : 

Rank — ^let your taame be' as high as it may. 

That the mandate **. be dust," even you must obey : 

Power — ^what things are youi life and your sway. 

Which a breath can destroy, and a murmur betray ! 

Happin es s k now that you shine like the light 

Of the wandering gleam that misleads us at night : 

Pleasure — ^though painted all lovely and bright. 

That your visits are fatal, and rapid your flight : 

Friendship— though dear to the sense and the sight. 

That thou art but a flower which the wintiy winds blight: 

Love — that thy name, if we read it aright. 

Is passion, more fearful because of its might : 

Hc^ — 'tis in you their attractions unite. 

But you lure us to leave us when most you invite. 

L. A* H« 


A Sketch. 

The vu^ had scfiurcely riien over Elmwood vUiage, when 
nearly all ito inhabitants had left their beds, and were 
rambling through the fields, and along the hedges, to 
gather green branches and fresh fioweis to deck the May- 
pole, around which the old and the young were to assemble, 
when Evening, the friend and patroness of innocent amuse- 
ment, paced in her shadowy maatde over earth. It was 
the morning that ushered in "the merriest month of all 
the year;" and in the whole village there was but one 
aching heart Neaily opposite the spot in which, *' time 
out of mind," on such festal ooeasions, the villagers had 
held their joyous meetings, was the neat but humble 
cottage in which Mary Edmonds and her children dwelt. 
She was a stranger, who had been about three years a 
resident amongst them, and by her kind and gentle man- 
ners, her continual anxiety to lessen all their difficulties; 
and to administer to all their wants, and, above all, by 
that air of gentility which marked her as evidently superiot 
to the situation she then filled, she had succeeded in gaining 
not only their esteem, but their affection. ' 



Awakened fiom sleep that was seldom unbroken^ she 
opened her lattice window, and looked forth upon the 
laughing crowds, in whose joy she could not participate, 
and listened to the meny singing, for which her heart had 
no echo. Their voices were loud and cheerfiU, a^ they 
sung the song that had been their favourite, perhaps for 

It Is the menjr month Of May, 
That laughs all wintry caves away ; 
O, the merry, merry May 1 

Now we have had our Apzil.ahowers,. 
And merry l^ay will bring us flowers ; 
O, the merry, merrt May I 

Slie comes in robe of red and green, 
80 gay, with diamond gnus between | 
O, the merry, merry May 1 • 

Then look upon her eloudtees sky. 

And hear her herald-lai4c on hi|^ } 

O, the merry, merry May t 

Then drire all wintry cares away. 

And laugh and be like merry Mayj 

. O, the merry, merry May 1 

Maiy Edmonds listened to the gay song of her neigh- 
bours; but they little knew the feelings to which their 
merriment had given rise. The day was to her, one which 
brought recoUeetioQs the most sad ; and when they passed 
on their way rejoicing, she turned from her -window,, atid 

* • 

bitterly wept. 

It was weU known to aU the neighbourhood, that some 
cloud shadowed her hopes and her prospects ; for in. k9i 

• IfAV-bAY tV tffB yxtLAOt. 103' 

: ecMintefiance and mauner thete wai tbateiplreflaea^dfeep 
■ dHmgh uncdiiijtlaiiiH^ wmw, wliicih sefdom aritet from 
<8ny. wouiid but that which raoklaB in the heart, and ibr 
which the world's bletsinga can never pronde a con. 
Her cottage wW MaUj and tasfcefiUly ihmnhed. If was 
evident that she possestol a etmipeteney foiBcienttoBeciiie 
the poBUBUon, not only of necessaries, bnt of oomforte. AU 
who knew her were her friends, a^d it was ahnost impos- 
.sible that sheconid ever have had an enemy. Her habitsand 
:her temper were peculiarly domestic and jdacid, and her 
children were all that a mother oonld wish in them — 
beautiful, interestixigii and beloved by aU. . The unhappi- 
ness (for eveiy om folt die was unhappy) of Maiy 
Edmonds, waa tfrftyiwe a. mystery- to the vifltigers. No 
one. coflld divine the aoarce fiyna '^Mnoe it- arose. Many 
indeed were the gue^fievjas to-its oii^n; for though tbesr 
had often heard her chiI(Sbren talk of a' latberr they had 
never heard her speak of a husband : and when she came 
amongst them, her dress was not that of a widow. 

The day of merriment had passed, and the evening had 
summoned the old and young of the village to the open 
pUiin that fronted Mary Edmonds' dwellings She was 
sittiBg on the greca bank beneath the aged tree that 
fbadowed the cottags-gate ;. and as the miogled SQunds 
of music and laughter from the ne^bouring crowd met 
her ear, she pressed her hand to her bn>w„ and seemed 
IkbBOibed in thoughts that were even more tb«A usually; 

H«r little boy had been for some time leaning hi» head 


OQ ksi lap, and, as he foond kisiedf stitt vnaotioed, nt 
iflOgdi he raiM hit %wifaA eyes, looked in hwiai&e, and 
aabed her why 3he:vv»l so^ad; -wheo eteiy body was «> 

*' Put awi^ your dauMs, Jane/' said he to his young 
listBr, «ho:was tttting by his mother's sid^ ^ui&n^iiig « 
iidsegay of urild^flotvers^^*' Pat awi^ yont daisias, and 
eoii»e and %kl ttiatnma, ibr die k Wej^itfg.'* ' ' 

At liiH moni6nl, a strangef appeSred statidulg wHhift 
Hie cottage-gale ; he y¥ovi a daik iMii^^oak, tiii c&pb 
of whieh he held to his face, ^th th% evkl^i^liitett^R Of 
concealing his ^atiHes; and remhiiiisd <b^ awhile -ntfbo*' 
titied bythoi^ he #as so earetelfy cdiltemfila^g. 
^' ^'Mtttaitaa, BMtnuna^ do ifbt 10dk«o sadf^ «Ecl«isaeil 
htvOi her-^iildr^^ ami Afiiry Edtt(0«ds tamed andsastted 
fliraiigh liet team as ^e'l3ssed thent. 

The straiiger advaliced a few ste^s neaieir fo the gnrap^ 
tnd ixHthdirehir the cloak that more than haif hid his face. 
The expretoion of his coonteikance was melandioly ahe^ 
but it was a melancholy mingled with remorse^— ^oy 
difierent from that of the w^an on t^hoih he was s^ 
intently gaioiig. The Ml of his cloak appeared to be 
accidental; for in an instant he resumed die ^sgmse^ 
and continued to look upon the mother embracing and 
weeping over her children. * 

He had not continued in this posture m^y minutes, 
befijte he attracted the attention of the little boy, whd 
pointed him out to his mother. She rose, and politely 
turtesied to the stranger. 


> " If yon are going to join the civwd of Merry TiUngen^ 
sir," nid die, "you have btit to pass this comer, and 
you will see the light-hearted and happy*" 

The stranger made no reply. 

" Or, perin^ sir/' she continued, " you are on your 
way to the collage inn ; yonder road will lead you to it, 
hot yon will find it deserted now.*' 

Still the stranger gave her no answer; and while she 
stood gasng with some sorprise .upon him, she saw his 
bosom heave as if in violent agitation, and, a suppressed 
sob i^peaied to shake his whole frame. 
' . " You do not know me, Maiy 1" said he* 

Mary Edmonda looked at him fixedly, and while she 
gazed, he let the mantle fall from hia.face* She sank 
npbn the green award from which she had risen, and ap- 
peared to exert a mote than human strength, while she 
replied to his qnestion» 

f* Too well do I know that voice, and those fea t n w s.r" 
Go, my chiUben," said she, " and watt.witlun. until X 
come to you." The little ones immediately passed through 
the gate, and entered the cottage. 
' The stnnger instantly feU at Mary's feet, embpaoed 
Aem, and wept like a child.— "Oh!" said he, **l 
eannot ask for pardon ; but, for the love of Him who died 
for sinners, give it to me, Maiy — give it to me !" 

Maiy Kdmonds took her husband's hand, and her tears 
fell last upon it:— « Oh! why did you desert maV.' 
were the only woids she could utter. 

" Ob ! I have wronged you," he answered, " but I 


have Buflkred deeply-H&ost deeply : by day and by night 
liie bitterest lemone has been with me, until my life 
became a burthen, and I hsnre come, on ngr knees to 
obtain foTgiveness, or to depart from yon and die.- For 
the iakt of those little onfl»»--I have never seen one of 
them until tUe nights-forgive me, Mary ! For the sake 
of that God yon have always loved^ and wha has given 
me a brakea and a conliita hear^^-tegive me» Maiy I 
Foigive me, evwi on the ntmn ofthe vefy dajtm whieh» 
]yMaiinetch,Ileftyoitr . 

Mary Edmonds had deeply felt the vvzoags she had 
suffined : deserted by the husbaad in whom had centred 
an her earthly hopes and afleak«i,-««t'tlie mcmiakt, 
too, when hit 'eai«friuld atientioniwiiecffeniMreiidottbly 
nacesefloy,— «he had straggled, and not ^together in vBin« 
iBb forget the days—the words— the hnkt^i^^the aotioaa o£ 
pure aud devoted love, in the rememfarance of the imi by« 
vrhieh he had been Isd away<— the msest deathMbkMr to a 
Woman's peace aftd to a i^oman's prider But she was a 
wife and a molber ; and the parent of her cfaihiien» the 
oliject of her early and dinateiested attachment was 
befbMher—« penitent! She knew that in heaven tbeie 
ia joy over a sinner that repentelh ; and few will blame 
her fot railing her husband from the gnNpid, and»'amid 
weeping and thanksgiving to the Almighlar fer hia lesto* 
ration to viitae* reeeiving him again to her home and her 
affections* - 

Lm a* u« 



Mrnrcz them Kndthe st»a,.mj dear goddess, decree. 
That 91d Maid as I am, an Old Maid I must be, 
O h^ar the petition I ofier to thee — 

For to bear it must be my endeaTOur : 
From the grief of my friendships all dropping around, 
TiU not one whom I loved in my youth can be found" 
From the l^^acy-hfmters that near us abound, 

Diana, thy servant deliver. 

Ffom the scorn of the young and the flaunts of the gay, 
From all the trite ridicule rattled away 
'.By the pert ones who know nothing wiser to say. 

Or a spirit to laugh at them, give her : 
From Joining at fancied neglected desert. 
Or, vain of a civil speech, bridling alert. 
From finical niceness or slatternly dirt ; 

DisAa, thy servant deliver. 

108 THV OLD maid's PAATBR. 

From over solicitous guarding of pelf. 

From humour unchecked — ^that most obstinate elf — 

From every unsocial attention to self, 

Or ridiculous whim whatsoever : 
From the vapourish freaks or methodical airs. 
Apt to sprout in ^ brain that's exempted from cares. 
From impertinenl meddling in others' affairs, 

Diana, thy servant deliver. 

From the erring attftehments of desolate souls. 
From the love of spadille, and of matadore voles. 
Or of lap-dogsr and parrots, and monkies, and owls. 

Be ihey ne'er so uncommon and clever : 
But chief from the loi^e (with all loveliness flown) 
Which makes the dim eye condescend to look down 
On some ape of a fop, or some owl of a clown, — 

Diana, thy servant deliver. 

From spleen at beholding the young more caressed. 

From pettish asperity tartly expressed. 

From scandal, detraction,. and eveiy such pest— 

From all, thy true servant deliver : 
Nor let satisfaction depart from her cot^- 
Let her sing, if at ease, and be patient, if not ; 
Be pleased when regarded, content when forgot. 

Till the Fates her slight thread shall dissever. 



timltated from the IiUh.] . 

Sunk in cold repoie and deep. 

The dews of lieav«ii thy Ixwom steep. 
The eastern sun, in radiance bright, 

Ascends — ^before his cheering ray 
The mists, which in the gloom of night 
Hung heavy on the mountain's height, 
Dispene— «Dd still, as glows his light, 

Joy rises with the rising day. 
That joy shall thrill thy heart no mora : 
Finished thy course, fhy journey o'er. 
And, though night's shadows flee before ^ OMm, 
Ne'er shall the pulse of life to thee return. 

Lone aie thy native mountains now. 
The woods, the glens, the streams are hme ; 

For he who climbed each rugged brow, 

And trodeeach deepravine below, 

(As snulfld his bright, uAcloiidBd eye, • 

Is playfidneto of infiuey. 
In childhood's happy how)-i-4s gone. 

110 CAIONE. 

Then first within that virtuous breast. 

Was felt pure friendship's holiest glow ; 
And oh ! that friendship / possest. 
And loved thee as I mourn thee now — 
With anguish mourn thy sad, thy early close, 
Tom from my aching heart for ever— cold and ulent thy 

Bright glows die setting sun ; but redder now. 

As far behind yon mountain's darkening brow 

He sinks, and, sinking, ffings his ruddy light 

O'er rock and/orest, beaming fiery bright; 

On glittering stream, on turret mouldering grey. 

On the broad ocean, on the winding bay. 

Lingers his latest, softest, sweetest ray* 

Dearer to methan that last, loveliest beam. 

Tinging each fibny cloud with golden gleam, 

Wert thou ; — and when, through heaven's high arch of 

I mark that sun his course of light pursue, 
Sfed are my thought^, my sorrows spiim control'— ^ 
Of thee, of thee I think, and anguish fills my aoul> 
Like him, when glows his disk with roseate hue. 

Didst thou arise, the blush upon thy cheek ; 
Resplendent beams, like his, thy noontide knew. 

But clouds and stoims, thy beauty hid from view. 

Clouds which thou, vakUy struggling, sought to bzeak. 
And sank — Oh ! ne'er to riser ner know t^barm 
Though still the orient sun shall gild the moni,- 

ClIONB. Ill 

Around thy head the shades of midnight close; 
Tom from this anguished breast for eyer— cold imd ailent 
thy repose. 

Even as the nerve this throbbing heart that thrills. 
Pouring the crimson tide in countless rills, 
Wert thou to me. — Brave, generous, just, sincere. 
For thee alone this barren world w&s dear : 
Now joyless, cheerless, hopeless, time drags on. 
Life of my life, since thou, its light, art gone — . 
Thou, loved of all ! But why do I look back 
Upon thy virtue's pure and radiant track ? 
Why call ye up again to memory. 

Ye scenes of bright and cloudless happiness. 
When this glad bosom felt serenest joy. 

Which now feels nought but utter loneliness ? 
That form, in life so loved, is breathless now;^ 
Bathed in death's clammy dews that n^anly brow. 
Clod of the valley, — ^lifeless, soulless clay, — 
Swept as the mists pf mom by wintry storms aw^y,— 
Gone, gone for ever, to return no more, — 
For thee, for thee these floods of anguish pour; 
Still must I mourn thy sad, thy early close, 
Tom from me — ^lost to me for ever — cold and silent thy 


Stir of evening^, mild add bright, 
I love thy calm and holy ray; 

It aeemf so gently to invite 
My 8ovl to heayen, and point the way : 

For thou, O watcher of the sky I 
Burning oathe brow of even, 
Art like some spirit from on high, . 
Peeping through the vault of heaven. 

Dew-drop firom the flowers at)ove ! 

Dropt upon the empyreal way, 
Etherial fire— eye of love ! 

•* Diamond of serenest ray V* 


Whatever thou art, whatever thy name. 
Mine eye, upon thy twinklings staid. 

Loves to mark thy little flame, 
Straggling through surrounding shade. 


And there are, twisted with thy layi, 
FeelingB that woida can ne'er ezpreis ; 

A calm awakening of days, 
Long buiied in the heart's recess. 

" • * 

Then holier feelings take their turn. 

The soul is silenced into prayer. 
The heart with qoidcer throb discerns 

The presence of its Maker there. 

And with the flashings of thine eye 

Come blight revealings from above— 
From Him who hnng thee in the sky. 

To light t£i to his'thitme of leffe. ' 

• • - 

MorB.t»i^t the lamp of day may be, 
Of ampler oib , the queen of night ^ 
But thine ace holiefk rays to me, 
. And dealer than a woild «f light. 

xif A. 1j» 



" Never saw I the righteous forsaken." ^PsAlm*. 

Thb cottage of Jaises MoEland was the piettieit in one 
of the most romantic villages of the county of Devon. Its 
site bad been weU chosen, for it commanded aaextensive 
prospect of the lunoimding ooimtiyy and yet had-the shiajiter 
of the neighbouring hills to protect if from the inclemency 
of the less gentle winds. It stood sufficiently jdislant inm 
the village to lose all its bustle, but was near enougjh to 
partic^te in all its conveniencies. A little bye-path led 
past its door to the parish churchy and on the sabbath 
the villagers would pause on their way to admire the 
neatness of the dwelling, or to inhale the fragmnce of the 
sweet flowers that blossomed with every season, in the 
well-cultivated and well-weeded garden, or to greet their 
neighbour as he went forth to worship, with his wife and 
Iu3 Ave children — ^so many models of what an English 
jreomvk aod his family should be* 


The cottage had been in the poiMnion of Jamee Hbx* 
land and his anceston for upwards of a centniy. They 
had never held a higher, but never a lower, station thaa 
that of smaU fanners'j and their means had been always 
equal to their fiecenities or their wishes. James's father, 
however/thongfa an honest, was not a ftogal maiw he had 
lost his partner early in life, and he had neglected his 
opportnnitieB of providing against a ** rainy season.** 

When he died — 

" And beqaeatlMd to hU son a good name,"— 
he left him scarcely any other inheritance. 

' James had married well — 'weU in the only sense in 
which the word can be applied to mairiage. His wift 
was ohe who kh and enjoyed the blessings of region, 
'and his chilBrea - were bronght np in the nurture and ad- 
liionitioB of the Lord.' Religioo always brings content- 
ment, and wxdibnt -confentmenf Ihere is no happiness. 
Us efibcts were aiasii^est not only in ihiat own characters 
andeondiict, and in ihe dispositions and hlBLbits of their 
ysvBig haSiy, but in their domestic arrangements, and in 
their attention to those eomfbrts and hiinible elegancies 
whieii anade their home as attractive as it wassubstantiidly 
vafaAMe. James had nevter any temptation to leave it, 
•beeaase ha coiM no'where have fonftd so much enjoyiAent 
-as in his own house I where his cheerftil Maiy and his 
sBii&lg filtle ones recompensed his labour when done. 
Or lightened Jj^ their influence his daily toil. 

The ways of Providence are; often most mysterious; 
but to the' eye of faith' there is always some convincing 


evidence, that whfyi the virtUoiis are'afBietiBd, their Mils 

are sent to prove, and not to duih; that thfeir '8tretig:A 

may be seen in trouble, and that their ezceUence in ad« 

versily may be like the perfume of (rMimrfloifrers— more 

poTverful in its effects, and more extensively usefoi. Maiy 

Morland had given birth to a sixth ^hild'; but hei severe 

and dang^rons illness had for seve^ weeks preventdd het 

husband from attending to his wmk. She had scarcely' 

recovered, when their cow died, and two of their she^ 

were stolen. These misfortunes obliged James; for the^ 

first time in his life, to be in arreaife with his lettt. Wk 

hoped, however, to be teady with it after hitrv^-; but in 

consequence of his wife's confinement his crop wai^ Tciiy 

Jate, and the vret seasdn had conimended before tt was 

gathsred in. Other difficulties came upon him, tod he 

saw no possibility of diachaigiii^ the ddbt, for which Ms 

landlord's agent, a cold-hearted man, had become veiy 

pressing. James was too uptight iA principle to promise 

payment Within a short period ; &t he knew titat mhny 

prcsperous months alone could enable hiBh to recbver-the 

ground he had lost.' A^ distress was dierefore levied on 

his house and land ; and James Bffoilind and hit floidiy 

were driven from th« ancient dwelling of then forefitlher^, 

with no other possesion than honest hearfii; and a himibte 

dependence on Him whom ihey knew clothed the fair 

flowers of the b^utifuf garden, ' and provided homes 

for the little cliirping sparrows that nestled in the fhatch 

of the cottage from which the^ were exiled. 

The whole family had passed the threshold, ^nd had 


lingered for Bome minutes in the gaideh. The wife had 
given her infimt to the care of her eldest boy, and was 
gaang through the half-open lattice, into the late cheerful 
and hRppy parlour. The tears had gathered in her eyes, 
as she trained up and fastened a branch of the honeysuckle 
that had given way,, and tlien plucked one of iti many 
blOHoms, on which she looked earnestly, as if bidding 
teecweU to the beautifiU tiee she had so long watched and 
cherished. The mournful group of children gathered 
RNmd her, and endeavoured to attract her attention by 
qwitions as to i^uch^ of their flowers they should cany 
with them. The poor, afflicted mother turned round, — 
she conU contatn herself no longer; but, clasping each 
fay turn to her bosom,. she wept bitterly as she bade " God 
Uees.them." The husband, full of bustle and apparent 
caielessaess, had entered his cottage, to see that nothing 
had been left behind ; but when he returned, it was evi; 
dent that its bare walls and its desolate appearance had 
weighed heavily upon him. He looked on his wife, sup- 
piesaed a heart^sob, and ezclumed, " Come, my Maiy, 
take up your child, and God will guide us to some other 
zeiting^place." The family passed through the little gate 
of their garden, — again turned to gaze on their once 
happy home, and went their way. 

Their dojg had been a spectator of the scene, and he 
seemed perfectly conscious of the sorrow that had fallen 
on his master's house, as he run from one member of it 
to another, whined and wagged his tail to each, and then 
lay down in a farther part of the garden, gazing wistfully 


OB the group. He had maiked &e la8t..<tf the childreii 
pass through the gate, and then he walked leisurely out; 
but when he had gone a few steps, he returned, looked 
through the hedge, howled a piteous adieu, and scampered 
ailer his old friends. ' 

James Morland was known throughout the country to, 
be an honest and an upright man ; and he soon found the 
advantage of a "good report" in a season of adversity, — . 
which, to use the emphatic words of the proverb, triet. 
friends, while it rouses into action those energies of the 
mind that in success might have slept uBttwajkeaed. The. 
worth of the vessel is not known in cahns-^its value jand 
its strength are only proved by bufPetting the' tempest. . 

James was not deserted by his neighbours, nor was he 
forsaken by that Friend, who hath promised rest to alF 
who labour and are heavy laden, and who call on him £w 
lud. He was in poverty, but stUl his dqfiendaiice oaG«d 
continued firm, as in his better days.^ Eveiy morning sad 
evening his family met at prayers, - » they had aiwajn 
done : every Sunday saw them at church, as neatly, though 
not so well dressed, ason more pro^rous Sabbaths : ^leir 
humble dwelling was as cheerful and as happy as it had 
formerly been, and within it ihey had soon smiling faces 
and contented hearts. James had now to begin the world 
again ; and his course was one of such prosperity, as to 
make his success a sort of proveifb among his neighbonn ; 
while it reminded them, that virtue^ "hadi thejttomiie 
of this Hfe, as well as of that which is to come." Mis* 
fortune and sorrow are with the good buttraasieut v isUors ; 


it is only with the unr^teoos that they take up their per- 
manent abode. The blessings of one year were followed 
by the blessings of another ; and/ by industiy and eco- 
nomy, James Morland was, in the course of comparatively 
a short period, a wealthier maa than he had been in the 
fevered habitatbn o£ his forefathers, and the home of his 
happiest associations. About seven years after he wai 
driven forth in poverty, and (as far as its worldly inter- 
pretation goes) in despair, a variety of circumstances .h«4 
iHxmned, to which we need allude no farther than to 
eibserve, that they led to the sale of the small estate on 
iHiich this veiy cottage stood: James Morland was ita 
purchaser, and his family continue to inhabit it to this day^ 
•—their situation higher in life, but their humility and 
their virtu6u8 character the same. 

The acene of <he return of this good and happy family 
to the home of their childhood> was one that will never be 
Ingoiten by the individual who was fortunate enough t<) 
iwitness both that and their expulsion. 

It was the evening of a calm day in spring, when they 
.stf^»ped at the gate. The younger children ei^tered has- 
tily, running to criticise the alterations that had been 
made, and to form plans of improvement in their garden. 
But the mother paused for a. moment, and, with a tear 
of pleasure in her eye, looked over the hedge, and con- 
templated the familiar objects around her with a feeling 
that none could understand, but those who knew the cir- 
cumstances connected with her history. After gazing for 
a short time, she turned her look toward heaven, clasped 


her hands, and wept in g^titade and joy. She had 
wept when she quitted the spot, aad she now wc^ on 
returning to it — she had been then resigned, and she was 
now thankful ; but from how different a source did those 
tears proceed f^-dio had then faith in &e pioou9e> that 
she would not be forsaken, and she now saw that ptomiae 

Her husband had been busily unloading his car ; bat 
he had frequently interrupted her by asking if the honqr- 
suckle was yet in bloom,-^f his &¥Ourite rote-tree still 
ls»ed|^«i4f liielUUea had their blosaoms ; — or some question, 
of' equal ' interest to ham who aslced, as to her who was 

• Their dog mmt not be fof!gQtteB^-<-their olddiog, who 
had shared their adversity, attdwho'now'partie^tled iii 
their happiness. He marched with a slow and stately 
pace through each walk of the remembered garden, as 
if he recogniafied' tn aeqpiaintance in every shrub and 
flower ; then w^t and capered round his mastja^^ and 
then went and lay panting at the cottage door. 

In a few m]Stttes,-tbe whole family were seated in their 
litde parlour, to which an air of comfort had been already 
given.^*- A prayer was said, and a hymn was 8ung> and 
they took pesjeesionof their dwelling* 



BY TBS KEY. W. L. 90WLftS« 

tUaaiOMtle but dIUpldftted pile ham been r«pab«d'at gtMl 
•spw w; lad miik UHtt ami ^i4ga«Bt la tv«rf rcqwct. oon- . 
•OD«nt Co and wortby of lU uicient character. These yeract 
were written nnder the contemplatloii of thlssloguUirlybeMi- 

' tiftil apd •ii<qa«pllcb«ANf «pMi«* "lata inr foUlo wMahlp* 

(l^y « aacrcd iyyakaipeirfyrBi»nre. 


Mo)f iJTTC and thnttHcbiMMfttled FftM, 
Hibu hast put OB' Ay tli^tpcly sCile lysfai* 
Almoit augntt, ift in tliy «drty dfty. 
Ere ruthlfeflB H ettry Wkit thy pomp sw^« 
No more the tntss on holidays is sang, 
The Host hSgh'-nuft'd, or ima&ng eenwr twimg^ ; 
rvo moiey in axmee wntBy the tsuiertf eioWf 
M^ith lighted tapers, in long order go;— > 
Yet the tall window lifts its arched height, 
As to admit heaven's pale but purer light : 
Those massy-duster'd columns, whose long rows, 
E'en at noon-day, in shadowy pomp repose,. 


Amid the siknt sanctity of death. 
Like giants seem to guard the dnst beneath : 
Those roofs re-echo (tho' no altars blaie) 
The prayer of penitence, the hymn of praise ; 
Whilst meek Religion's self, as with asnulOi 
Reprints the tiaoery of the hoaiy pile« 

Worthy its guest, the temple. What remains 1 
Oh, Migfafieat Master, thy inmioital strains 
These roofs demand. Listen, — with prelude slow* 
Solemnly sweet, yet full, the oigans blow. 
And haik I 9gfun« beaid ye the choral phaunt 
Peal through the echoing arches, jubUanft ] 
More softly now^ imploring litanies, 
Wafjted U> k/tvtw* and jningUng with the lighs 
Of penitence, from yon high eitar risS : 
Again the vaulted roof '*. Hosannah" lings*^ . 
"Hosannahl Loidof Lends, and King of Kings!" 

Rent, but not prostrate, stricken, yet iubUioe, 
Reckless alike of in)uiies or time ; 
Thou unsubdued, in silent m^jesQr* 
The tempest hast defied, apd ahalt dei^ 1 

The temple of our Sion so shall mock 
The muttering, storm, the veijreartfaqvake'* >bQ^> 
Founded Chiisil on thy eternal rock. 



THfi Cross in the wilderness, 


SiLXKT and numrnfttl sat an Indian chiefi 

In the red sunset, by a grassy tomb ; 
His eyes, that might not weep, were dark with grief, 

And his arms folded in majestic gloom. 
And his bow]ay unstrung beneath the mound. 
Which sanctified the gorgeous waste around. 

For a paJiar Cross abot*e its greensward rose, 
Telfittg the 06cGbm Imd the pnie« that thens 

Man's heart and hope had straggled ^th his iroes. 
And lifted from the dust a voice of prayer. 

Now all was hnshed^^and tfte's last splendottt 

With a ridi sadness on the attesting ttdbib, 

Themcame a. ksaly <ti«rato <»'er 4he wild» 
' Andhe toapaniediB|<OfeMiie«>by thKtgniev 
Asking the tele of its momorial, piled 

Between the (jupest andthe lake's baght wafe i 
Till, i^a wind wight etir a witber'd oafc. 
On the deei^dreao^ of age his »Q9«Qtft ^i9k8 : 

124 TUft CR0»8 IN TH« WILOKANBtS. 

And the grey chieftain» slowly rising, said, — 
" I listened for the words, which yeais ago 

Passed o'er these waters : though the voice is fled 
Which made them as a singing fountain's flow ^ 

Yet, when I sit in their long-fieuled track. 

Sometimes the forest's munnor git es them back. 

" Ask*st thou of Him, whose bouse is lone beneath t 

I was an eagle in my youthfal pride. 
When o'er the seas he came, with summer's breath» 

To dwell amidst us, on the lake's^green side. 
Many the times of flowers have been since then,— • 
Many, but bringing nought like Him again! 

" Not with the hunter's bow and spear he came 
O'er the blue hills to chase the flying loe ^ - 

Not the dark i^ory of the woods to tame, 
Laying their cedars like the corn-stalks low -, 

But to ^read tidings of all holy things,- 

Gladdening our ssouls as with the motning's wings, . 

** Dodi not yon cypress whi^ier how we met, 
I and my brethren that fi^om eafth are gone, - 

Under its boughs ta hear his voice, whieh yet 
Seemathrough Iheir glooiB to send asilveiy tooel 

He told of One,' 1^ grave's dark band* who brake, 

And our hetfts biuMd witimi- usas he apok^i 

" He toU of ftir ad MMi^ iMMb wiMr lb 

Beyond th« vluit wlMMqilM AtA#n dv«ill< 
Bright mxist tfaay lie ! liDr/il«rtf m aone tkofc (&». 

Aad ]t<tee tibtt ^we^ and lioaff;Aat ay» ' FaiviveH ! ' 
Hecainetogild0'tte(tfalllier,<'«*]MU»«ij - 

*' We lawidm A<mlf Me^-^flmst, peRlitiiee, 
For the fresh wateis of t&att loveljF cliine ; 

Yet wes there elS! t soiilwtm m his glance, 
And on hSk gleauiiig hait notoucfa of time: 

Therefore we. hoped^vC now the hUce looks ditn> 

for the green sumxiter comoi" and finds not Him. 

" We gttlier'dnmnd hkn in Ae dewy hour 
Of one sdfi mora, beneath his ehosen tree ; 

Fiomhis clear voice at first the words of power 
Came low, like moaningsof a distant sea ; 

But swelled, and shook the wildemess eve long. 

As if the spirit of te brsesB grew strong. 

" And then eaee aiMe thef MtahM «n his tQi!^;v#, 
And hifrwUte esfslide flattiied» and his heaijl 

Fell back, and aiktB apon hisfoiehaad hnng-^ 
Know*atthoit net hiom if^ ^a tO/jm ttie'tlatd.] 

It is enough ! — ^be^aA npon my :baeaal*«r*. . 

01lrfirieQdyMlt^hi1Ptfl«Sk:h•.wae#«MliteMftll. . . 


"We buried Umwbeie he was- wmittopii^, ;'. 

By the calm lake» «'eik here* at eventide ; 
We leaied tfaie Oron intokea ^ndieie he lay, : 

For on the Csott, be said, his LMdhad died ! . 
Now hath he surelgr ieadied» o'er mount and wave. 
That floweiy land whose .giee&.inrf hidi^ im gtaive I • 

" But I am sad^I. monra the clear light taken 
Back j&om my people, o^er whose place it shone. 

The pathway to the better shove foisaken. 
And the true wosds forgotten^ save by one. 

Who hears them faintly sounding firom the past, 

Mingled with de^th'Songs in each fit&d blast." 

Then spoke the wanderer forth with kindling eye : 
" Son of the Wilderness I despair thou not. 

Though the bright hour may seem to thee gone by. 
And the cloud settled o'er thy nation's lot: 

Heaven darkly works,— yet where the seed hathl>een. 

There shall the fruitage, glovnng yet, be seen. 

** Hope on, h<^ ever !— by the sudden springing 
Of green leaves which the winter hid so long } 

And by the bunts of fiee, triumphant singing, 
After cold, ulent months, the woods among > 

And by the lending of the froaen chains, 

Which bound the glorious rivers on their plains $ 

THB CtL098 IK THB WlLI>SRffft8l. I!|7 

*' Deem not the words of light that here were spoken, 

But as a lovely song, to leave no trace I 
Yet shall the gloom which wtaps tfaj hills be broken. 

And the iuU day-^prmg rise upon thy race 1 
And fading mists the better paths disclose. 
And the wide donrt bkMsom as the rose/' 

So by the CvssB they patted, m ^ w9d. 

Each fraught with musings for life's alter<Klay, 

Memories to visit ome, the Forest's Child, 
By many^ a blue stieam on its, lonely vray ; 

And upon tne, midst busy throngs to press 

Deep thoughts and sad, yet full of holiness. 



** My tesn bstt tarn my HMttt day and Digbi.*' 

. Psalm stlii. 3. 

'Mid team I hail the golden sun^ 

And wish his fated course was run, 

'Mid sighs I view that sun's decline, 

Aod weep while silvery moonbeams shine, 
Tho* young, I'm old, since all my years, 
I*ve numbered by my sighs and tears. 

Ask ye how many tears Fve shed*! 

Go count the stars above my head : — 

How many sighs I've numbered o'er 1 

Count ye the sands upon the shore. 
Since hours, and days, and months, and years, 
I've numbered by my sighs and tears. 

When shall I quit this world of gloom, 

And sink vrithin the peaceful tomb? 

Methinks I hear my Maker say, 

'* When all thy sins are wept away." 
Then moumfiil let me pass my years. 
Numbering each minute with my tears. 


A Sketch founded on Fact^ 

Thevs coald scarcely be imagined a spot more isolated 
from the worl^, its fashions, its aUuiements, and its cares, 
than the little valley of the Lac de Joox. Embosomed 
amongst the deepest recesses of the Jura, at the farthest 
western eztxemity of the Pays de Vaud, it lies encircted 
by a rude barrier of rocks and forests, as though Nature 
had neret intended it to be known but to the wild tenants 
of the woods and streams. Yet here have human industrjr. 
«nd contentment found a dwellii^-place ; and the sihreiy 
lake, shining like a mirror bom its dark frame woik; reflects 
on its calm bosom, hamlets, churches, and cottages, smiling 
in neat array along its shores ; the wild rocks echo to the^ 
tinkling belk of herds and flocks ; and the Sabbath chimes, 
^jing. out, with each return of the holy day, to summon the 
shepherd from the mountain, and the woodmen ficom the 

But it is not alone to rustic occupations dial the inha« 
liitants of this interesting* valley are devoted. They are 
lemaikable for their ingenuity in numerous mechanic arts ; 
and jwatch-makiog, in particular^ is canied on UMiigsl 


them with great success. The fruits of their labours are 
sent to Geneva, to be inclosed in costly exteriors, and from 
thence forwarded to various parts of Europe ; and many 
an elegant time-piece, with its loves and graces, and 
dancing hours, or musical box, encased in gold and jewels, 
admitted to adorn the gay saloon of London or Paris, has 
owed its original construction to the rough hands of the 
peasant of the Jiira. 

On approaching the valley from the interior of the 
C&nton, many miles of dreary solitude must be traversed. 
"DkAi woods of pine, huge masses of nx:k, ob wide tracts or 
mountain pasture, aflbrd no other traces of man than thd 
occasional glimpse of some lowly Chalet,* its weather- 
i^ned 6ides and rugged roof, scarcely distinguishable 
ftoto the dusky objects which surround it. After a constant 
ftscent of consicierable length, the road begins to wina 
down a steep defile *, and a sudden turn presents' to the' 
tiew, the valley at its full extent, lying stretched at fh^ 
ieet of the traveller ; tiie lake like a sheet of iOver, fiffing 
up almost the whole of the long narrow hollow ; the villaget 
of Le Pont sweeping round the curve of one end, and ^at 
6f L'Abbaye, (so called from ail old monastic establish- 
ment which formerly occupied its site,) discovered more iif 
die distance* 

The Lac de Joux is but little resorted to by the Eng^iK 
tourist, yet there is in it^ vicinity much to Interest the 
IbvefB of nature. The l^entde Vaulion, one of the ligtied 

» Chtm, tlM Miftifliei-<»dU«^ of ttt% SWM htt«km£. *' -^ 

Jta»i»i«i of tlw 7iirlu foiOM the tecHtAtiadBg fwtttw ol 0^ 
Iftndicape. XtnMtooithelabe«idea]jiiostpeipendiciiljuly» 
it ihelf of ban aiid iaacbeanble look ; but in anocbtt 
^inctioQ, flKtcods into woods nnd patturas, and nuiy be 
ascended with fkcilily, in the little vehicles of the CQnalEf« 
Nothing can etoead the bnghtnais of its mountain verdure, 
Aft sjiVaa gloom «f its distant finests, and the beautiftit 
grouping of the tufts of larch and birch-tnes which feaiher 
ks sides : daar firings £ome gnsbiag through ila glades ; 
goats and cattle bnwt sa tli fresh pastum, shaking their 
Mis a( 6veiystep» and so^Euniliarised with ^saa, that they 
'%nU even ebma wp to be careaied by the stranger. Several 
Chalets are passed in the ascent, where the faerdsmaa 
teadily affiid vepose and refieshnient ; and the traraUsf 
mxy, if he defibss, be initated into the mysteries of the, 
^pastoial scienoe, the making-of curds and cheese, to wfach 
Jihefie good peepie denrote thepuelyes during the fflunmeiv 
^ha view £rom the spmmit is of surprising oKt^nt and 
ana|p&fio8nce,-ooniaiandmg the whole of th^ Pays de Vaad^ 
great past of the plains of Bufguady, disttiat chains ef 
41pi> aad Jakes withoot nuDsber. 
r At« ilioit distaaoa from the nUage of Le Post, aie A 
sums of singular cavities, (called by the iahabitantSy Im 
IJBtUmmak^,) partly the work of nature, and pardy of art ;^ 
•^Aem the watersof the^valley find a subterrsAeons vent, 
«aiid after disappeanng for thafq^ace of hatf a league, rstui^ 
oio the soimse of <lie Oi<>e, gushing from between «, 
lofty wall of TockS) and then gliding away at oooe, a fiillo 
ifmm liver, i»rar » bad «f gsitn taosses aod Mpogafed 

\9k THft ^Afroa Of tun tkc bs jovx* 

pebbles, to which the liquid cryetai givet tt thwumi! 
beauties. This spot has been oompared ta the (XMiseemted 
fodntain of Yaucluae ; and there are not wantiii|f those 
who assert, that even Petrarch himself oould aeaieelj hasv 
denied to the 

" cbiare, frcsche e doM scqne** 

Df Valorbe> still more eminent claims to immortallity than 
those'of Avignon* .. . ^ 

Not very far from this beautifid aoosce, Js situated the 
iirrotte aux F6es, a romantic cavern in the side of the steep 
rocM overhanging the river. Its entrance forms a spaciovf 
archway, embowered amongst the shadowing branches .of 
ancient beech and pines. Many a wild tale is told of thif 
gBOtto, and the adventures to which it ewes its name ; . bv^ 
it is chiefly interesting as the scene of an annual jfestival^ 
jwhen the inhabitants of the nei^bouriog village assemble 
to dance vdthin its ample portico, after a tnal of skill at 
shooting with the croes-bow.1 The piiae bestowed at these 
meetings is a splnning*wheel, which is poesented Jby the 
Motor to the most virtuous maiden of the cpmmnntty. 

But we are virandering away firom our own )kttii» vaiky^ 
Ao.which let us return, as to a scene less nch indeed in 
Jovdiness, but not less (laught with intenst ; /or thoigii 
(its. locks, b^ barrel, and its climate cold, .Md its joil 
,«nfav0ttiab)e to the . vi«ie and ttve fr^itrti^, it hai: cbsw 
/»f ita.own in Jih9X plapid lake, tH^we quiet gt^eo sh^vM, 
isnd JuuDOv hiunestflads ; and more than a^l- in the iwimiiiiii 
viiiiie&^faichfl^iinah, within Ms, bosom. i 

««ll-»AfltOm-OP TBfi LAC D8 SOVX. 183 

lampf-m #aituig aB day !'' cried somcf little voi^et Mm 
beiiiad a- garden hedge, cloee by the side of the lake. 'A 
ineket gate stood in^tingly open— I was tempted to pe^ 
ifi ; and iitttead of being punished for my curiosity, was 
rewarded by the sight of one of the prettiest piclmes'I ever 
locked' upon. : At the fardiest end of the gaidsn was a 
grasa-plaft, terminated by an aiboar of Tostic trellis; which 
fire or- six little bioomiag giils were busily decorating with 
-garlands of flowers, ribbons', and red beities. • Down one 
'iit4Sb!& walks, two of their lesser companions were'slowly 
VMAdng their way, tagging along huge branches of kuch 
and mountain-ash, and with their little aprons fiBed^with 
■cocks and marigolds; for it appeared that Ae garden 
had already been rifled ofall its growing treasures for tile 
adanaent of the Bosquet, whose original •-clothing had 
' beeB/bvt a scanty dnperf^ji honeysockle and sweet-brier. 
On iko grass-plat was spread a table, the upperend of 
wideh' reached into thfe arboar, with bendies nmnd the 
ath«r. sides; and bende it, sat upon dw gnmnd^ alitde 
rosy ^-of five or six years old, guarding; with dignified 
jnportanGe, a small wickercage, Irom whence, through 
ihiek IwtDobs of ^^embowering chickweed, issued, ever and 
-a«oii»'the ftufy notes of a pipbg buUfiflch.- 
^> By going to the assistance (^.tfie dis tressed damsels in 
. ibe walfc« and bearing their ponderous boughs in triumph 
tactile arbour, I speedily ingratiated myself into'the ikvour' 
'of the whole company, and they soon became veiy com- 
mnnicatiye in their answers to my inquiries as to the object 
of all fhirjoyeos preparation. **lt is the namc'a-day of 


184 Tlttt'PAftTOII OP TRB'LAC Bfe j6\f±. 

good Pastor,'* said iImI A<fest €lt lAk gtotip, " m^tm 
«te going to gfv« lii&i a U^, and h^ is te^att lipon flsk 
kenoh, nodord^ aneh whi6lk n^ ttov^ j^sT fiiiisbed';'* tM 
aho painted to the ftbnt of the axl««r, foimd whictf^'ofi'tt 
gmmd-waiic of dtttb-eoteorod iiiogb« ^ bad ia g a faima l y 
coirtmed to Ibim, in letteiiroryoUoWevarlas^, AM^^iaM 
aenpliott-*<'itf ftolr« Am Put^m^ " 

<< And I am going to ^ IHSsn ia(f %a]Hxii&i wbkH datf 
pipe mora than half of tadf AniM3lb»/** sbM fli#4Mm 
CMon:-"^ And ¥tCiii$Oi» and PilnrlB ftrd gone # ih«^ 
3^B4 ^ Vattlion, to g^diOr stfawbemes, and to briiig 
iM ettfd» and'd!eian/' ^ed atte^^:^'*'Aii^'lKftc» 
is bfiagidg' ckeifri^ attd-cakea^ and good^-fhingl efm 
#erta< from V^ Qrbei aftd we airo ttf hsre ttMsk^ laid 
^tacygi"^'*'And» beder than bH/* ye^fi»lit«d tf^Oftd? 
*<' they* ate goljiigf- to- givfe- him a gold iM&t, 'sncH it 

*' }Mh> husb^ ctfed ICuie, iiiBiidieaf «o« g^«^ 
^ not a word of the watdf ; ycwi knoW'^i*'"Be-« 
seortt. Oh ! I hif^ the geiMSe^niatt won't^y lA^ tbnig 
heiMhand aehout Hie'frafiblk^' 

1 protansed^ invi6fi£Ma a6c«B«yi a!id p)roee«ded to aanlbA 
inquiries about ildabdowid' Pastor, i^fonrall a«itiiiad'S# 
dheli^Md to hoaknirt Mote eieiqneM^ than Overdid m^ 
ftew friends now ]a«6ch fbi1& in' his praistes.— " Ofcff liie 
ki S(^ good, so vety good/* oried^li^ Gaton. '' tasi 

• TbeB^aas^tacheaoflftwiFAytdeVattd. 


maHKt, vAmiJ 9fuM wvtk n Umt, «ad sMtbcr tlioiighi 
I ihDnld h^w dia4* }» woiiW ccmie twioea^y op th» 
ijdfiimlftin.tluoiigjb IIm flOPW* mmI briag me thmgi to anake 
iii« bettor, and leU meliMr oot to oiy, and talk to me 
^iHwt heaye^ littl dioaght I shoi^ aot be loity to4ie» 
to 43k to MCb a hanpy placoi" 

" A«l he teadiei us oorsatodHMi, and oar prayei»r 
t»d AUibe «aod «hii«B we knmr/' aaid Marie ^ ««and 
piBa9)lMa«B«DdiiiM<aanaoQa» and eiplaiaa the Bible lo 
Ihift eraa litfia Caton suqf andwirand IL And wba^ 
paeple joo aid^ er too wiak and old to go to tdmadi^ bo 
inM go and nad and pragp hj tbeir bedsidas fix bonis 
^lyther. And notber aaya, tbi» it nol libe tbe aaaoo 
plaee jinoe be oono aawngit «i ; fot tbat we wed aU to 
bo ancb ivild* MHtghlgrcbil^eB, wecoobLnonr be taof^ 
p fay oqr.fmyenii or to laarn tbe ten ccimmaadawaf i,! 
•t4 noir 90 anf^agror 00 bappy aa ulnn «a go to tfao 
Pkesbytere on Wednaklay and Sataiday evening, and 
Wtoroen «b«nbea on Saaday." 

" Haa yow good pioistor bean beio for many years V! 
asked I. " No* Sir, not a great many," ananfoned Maiie f 
'< bo^ oh! X bopo be will itny with na lor a voiy, voiy 
toog iWA ."-^-bot aio I ben ooeMa father," " oo d away laa 
tbo. wbola paity towaid tbe cottageKbor, which opened 
0( tbo olfair md of the garden, tan which ianed a. 
flOK^-looMDg peasant, with a loaded pannier at hiabaok». 
fiaUowed by bis comely bel^ate. They at first looked at 
too with soBie surprise -, but soon ^scovering the sociable 
t^arma on wbi^ I to!llood to have i^tabli^bed va^U with 


the young ones, they bade me heartily wekoW/ and in-" 
▼ited me to stay and partake of tlie evening's festiviti^/ 
which they said would commence at six o'clock. I thought/^ 
however, the presence of a stranger might be some inter- 
ruption to the business of preparation ; and rememb^fing,- 
moieover, the portentous warnings of mine hostess at Le 
Pont, of the ilb that would betide me if I w»e not 
punctual in returning to my dinner at three, I preferred 
taking my leave for the present, thankfully accepting the 
privilege offered me for the eyemng. Vam, alas!>iii^eiis 
my intentions of punchiality — the village clock struck four 
as I made my sortie' from the garden, • and I had moire 
tiian a league to walk, eie I could hope io ^*- take mine 
ease, in mine inn ;*' on finally readiing which, the pre-' 
siding Aihazon met me (to reverse the iisual reading) with 
a coun^tenance '^niorein anger than in mt^ow,"' and 
sternly ushered me into what she dignified with the title 
of the Salle-a»mai)ger. ■ 

My ideas were too much occupied with the scene I had 
left, and was going to revisit, to 'allow me to pay great 
attention to her or her wiath. In conscious delinquency^ 
I silently swallowed the organic remains of a dish of troiit, 
of whose premature decomposition 1 knew my truancy had 
been the cause ; nor did I even venture to suggest, 'that 
the delay of one little hour could not have added much* 
to the' adinirable antiquity of the doughty chanticleer which- 
constituted the R6ti ; or of the venerable paralleiogfams 
af aniseed-cake, witli the accompanying modicum of 
cheese, full' of holes and odours, that followed uhdef'llie 


■MM of deasBrt ;— Ottt ^' «lerMl pwr/' wlikh. wiOi all 
Iho pertinacity of " Di tanti palpiti" and th« " Hnater'a 
Chonw/' pniBoe th« wagr-ivom tmiraUer from o»q end oC 
SwifeieKUnd to tb« <M)ier« Duumv i*iU. in due time \m 
dempfiahed* be it ton^ lar tender ; and a Utile before tiu) 
taiY i^qpfaoled bj nqr ^rienda of the niomuig* I wa» va* 
IM^ spty etepa toward li^Abbaye* 
. It iraa- a knrely July .evening: the lake ihone like a 
pinor*— bi^ mya of smUii^t Mreamed throagb tbe daifc 

Aa I WQ«M aloi^p the wator-ttde, my eaia were greatod 
bty sweet alraina of music ; and on drawing nearar to the 
viUage^. I s%w^ that tbe shore was crowded with gay groups 
ol peasanits> all in their holiday attireu A band of native 
miisJciana were pligping the Rans des Vaches> and a isfom 
cberaa odEyouttg voices swelled the straaa of this 
" Old 8oagi the pitdous musls of the hcart.*V 

I soon firand myself onoe more within the precincts of 
the guiefu wj^ioh was now so crowded, that I had some 
diffienl^inmakinigmywaytovraidtbeaibour. The good 
Pastor wi» seated beneath hU aichof triumph, snnouaded 
by tmkf^ of his MefA pttiiduoners.} and the table before 
them was. amply spcead with adl the hixuries my Utde 
fsieads had so iMieh vaunted. I was i^aioUy reoogaisedy 
jMddttly presented to tho hero of the least* who received 
ma vdithinfini^ eeuRteiy» and iasistod on n^ sharing the 
hnacmiiLoC his rws»l Davu X pleaded my nnworthineis 
in vaitt, and was inally constimned to accept of this mD- 
moBteddistmctioQu Nothing coaht-be moro gloaswg ^kt» 



the .mansen nd.iqipeifaMse of the Putor. I hanl^X'i 
pedad to find faim old and venerable; but, for Ihe sake of 
bis little floek, I was rejoiced to see him a man stiU in 
(he ^piime of hie, whose healthy and happy counteiMoce 
gave hopes that his useful laboun might be pavsaed for a 
kmg course of years. With' smiles -of benevoleace he 
received the wann greetiiigs of his rustic friead^, as firom 
time to time -they approached him ; the old hobbling up 
to invoke blessings on his head,— «the young presea^ng 
their litde offerings of fruits and flowers,rHrtuniy fatheit 
shaking him heartily, yet respectfaUy, by the handy-i-aiid 
happy mothers bringing their infants to look at the good 
minister vrho had already consecrated Uiem in tb^r inao- 
eeace, and woidd in time instruct them in- their rsapDn- 
flibility •'"'•^ seemed,^ in -short, to. look upon him as the 
centre of eveiy thing most sacred and dear to.them-«*as 
the dispenser of their best 'comforts lor the present, and 
their holiesRt hopes for the ftAare. 

The little Caton played a yety bu^ part in this^ pkaaing 
drama. ' Her offering, it appeared^ had long -ago been 
made ard accepted ; for Bully and his bowery (iagehttng 
up in triumph wi&in the honoured precincts *of the very 
arbour itself; and he occasionally contrived to make hioi< 
self heard, through die pauses of the music on theshore, 
which now played lively tunes to groups of happy dancen, 
footing it blithely, if -not lightly, on the sniooth greensward 
that reached down to the water. When • the g&uter was 
Pushed, • and- ju«t as Monsieur J, was proposiiijg to me a 
stroll, amongst these meny gMups^ the most aged 


of llie company came fbnnrard, and aAer a short acUb«M/ 
homely, indeed, in expression, but replete with' the tnifr' 
eloquence of the heart, presented to the Pastor, in the 
name of his little community,'a beautiful gold watch, in 
the construction of which^ he assured him, 'that the fatiier 
of every family in his parish had had some share. They 
had iio better way, he added, of showing their gratitadef 
to him, whose every hour was emj^oyed in their service. ' 

The' good Mens. J., surprised and delighted,* seemed 
almost at "a loss -how to acknowledge the precious gift; 
He was still more overcome, when the old man suddenly 
touched a spring, and the watch struck up the well-known 
air—" Ott peut-on dtre mieuxqu*au sein de sa familler'* 

Tears stopd in the eyes of the amiable Pastor, at this 
new proof of the devotion of his flock. ** Dear fnend« 
and dear children," cried he, "you have here enshrined 
the sentiment which has possessed my heart ever since I 
have dwelt amongst you, and which, from this day, will 
be cherished with redoubled fervour. Never will I forsake 
you-HMver can I forget your afiection. I pray God to 
continue his blessing on my humble labours, that, through 
his grace, I may walk amongst you whilst living, repose 

* *' Where can one 'be happier than In the bofom of pne*8 
family V* This beautiful air, which really was employed in the' 
manner here recorded, it associated with another aneodote «f 
a very different nature. It it said to have been the favourite of 
Napoleon } and in the midst of the horrors of the Buseian re- 
treat, the soldiers had it contiunally played to htm, as the only 
repreacb in which they dared to Indulge. 


b^nie jou wlten dead, and leoognize the sane dear 
iiunilf in heaven !^' 

Yean have passed since this hi^j evening ; long an4 
£k have been my wanderings, and no tidings have ev«: 
Qoxe leached me from the^fittle valley, of the Jom : yel 
mj heart often turns to t|ie interesting 8oene» and ^»ii]4 
fedn hope» that hajppiness and peaice are still prosiding 
over that innocent flock* and the good Faster of thel^ 



The everlasting Btreams which flow 
In Eden's garden^ by whose side 

Immortal trees and flow'rets grow — 
Are from that mighty fount supplied. 

Which to oilr lowlier earth has given 

Streams pore and fresh as those of heaven. 

The music whose enchanting strains 
Are waked by angels — ^first was taught 

By Him who to our groves and plaiiks 
The melodies of Nature brought ; 

And those, like these, commingling blend/ 

And' to His hallowed seat ascend. 


That Ood who gave immortal breath 
To miOion cherabs near his face, 

Ift He who dincipliTies by death 
Man's here probationaiy race ; 

And sends delight, or sends distress. 

Alike to benefit and bless. 


« . * 

" Oh ! blessed be my baby boy i" 
Thus spoke a mother to her clold— 

And kissed him with excess of jpj,. 
Then looked upon his fiace^ and smiled. 

Then, as |he mother breatiied his name,*- 
The fervent prayer was scaicely said,— 

Convulsions shook his infant frame,. — 
The mother's only babe was dead I 

But stiU her faith in Him sh« kepH- 
In Him who turned to grief her jo(^ ; 

And still she murmured, as she wept^ 
" Oh ! blessed is my baliy boy r' 


(From Ifae Fmlogiie to Godbt** ?•««.] 


Tbe gas peats forth bis emulous song, 

'Mid kindred spheres, with ancient foree. 
And his pMse^bed pctil dftug^; 

Witir dmnittr^piee pvMes %ir coiftMf c 
liis look with sti»i%dv dock itug^ fillj 

Thoiig^ hiini«riaElh»lii nette^Jia^e p$m»i 
Hie sumless lofly woxks are still 

As gnadM in csMtion's faour* 


And swift, and past-conceiving swift. 

The earth revolves, in beauty dight ; 
The bloom of Paradise doth shift 

And change with deep and chilling night. 
O'er beds of rock, deep-set and strong. 

The sea foams up in billows broad. 
And rocks and sea are whirled along 

The fere's eternal rapid read* 



And vying stonns roar out amain^ 

Fiom sea to land, from land to sea ; 
And, wildly raging, form a chain 

Around, of deepest energy. 
There flames, the lightning's wasting fire. 

Before the diunderbolt's dread way ;— 
Yet, Lord, thy messengers admire 

The gentle prograsa.of thy day. 



Thy look with strength doth angels fill, ^ 
Though thee to. fathom none 1^V9 power i 

And all thy lofty works are still 
Asg^nd as in creation's hou^ 

.. -3. E. , 

• ( 

^' . . ■ , . , • • V ■ * •' 


A tnM Binry* 



Onb 6f the niMt admirabie persons whom I ha?e ever 
kaowB, is niy inend Btrs. Mansfield, the wife of the good 
Vicar of Aberleiglu She is a delicately formed woman 
of ibriy, or tiiereaboiit; but ao pretty, and of a s^le of 
prettiness ao yontUid, that it is necessary to see two 
daughters, each lialf a head taller than her mamma, before 
we can make mp our minds to believe tha| that mamma is 
tamed of thirty. A soft, f^ir complexion, jand a profusion 
of beantifnl light brown hair, which, although very deoo" 
rously dirust under a little lace cap^ has a trick of escapiflg 
from confinement, won't be hidden, will come forth, may 
partly Gondaiqe to this mistake; but the chief cause is 
undoobladly a habit of blushing, arising from a touch of 
shyness and bashfnlness seldom seen at that time of Ufe. 
H becomes her estrensely, especially when she lets you 


discover her great variety of acquirement, her conversa- 
tional power, her information, and her taste. In the 
Bible« and the best theological writer^, of all persuasions, 
she may be called learned ; and no better illustration 
could be given of the practical influence of such studies,, 
than her pious, benevolent, and useful life. 

Her daughters are just what might be eirpected from 
young women trained uncler such a mother. Of Clara, 
the youngest, I have spoken elsewhere. Ellen, the eider 
sister, is as delightful a peice of sunshine and gaiety is 
ever gladdened a countiy home. One never Aiidcs \Alb' 
ther she be pretty, there irf such a play of feature^ -sifeh Ibi 
light in her dark eye, such an atlernation of blush and 
smile on her animated count^iance ; for Ellen has her 
mo^r^s {rick of blushing, although her ** eloqueiit bldbd" 
speaks through the medium of a richer and browner skid. 
One forgets to make up one*s mind 8S to herpiiftttiiiess ; 
but it is quite certain that she is cHsbmhig. 

She has, in the very highest degr^, those^ thvkluAble 
eveiy-day spirits which require no stftlflciU' stnnufi, b6 
public amusements, no coinpaiiy, ' no flattery,' ik> prtdM. 
Her sprightliness is altogether domestic. Hdr own ^tett 
family^ and a few dear friends, are aQ the listfeneM ihb 
ever thinks of. No one doubts but Ellen might be a ivit, 
if she would : she is saved from that dangerous distinctioik 
as much by natural modesty as by ik kind and constant 
consideration for the feelings of others. ' I Htfve' often 
seen a repartee flashing and'Iiftughing in' her ^bright eye^i 
butseldotti, very seldom, heafd it «Kdpe faer Upa; Mvtr 


mitow quite eqnaUy matched and cliaUenged to luch a 
timit of ** b9tod foils'' by lome admirer of her playful 
cottvenation. They who have themselves that splendid 
but delusive talent, can best estimate the merit of such 
forbearaacev Governed as it is in her, it loakes the delight 
of the house, and supplies perpetual amusement to herself 
and to all about her. 

Aiio4«r of her delightful and delighting amusements, 
is her ieakarlia|i>le skill in drawing flowers* I have never 
seen any poitrails so eiactly resembling the originals, as 
her canatpOQft ajpd g}iraniums. If they could see diem* 
•elves in her pnntings, they might think that it was their 
own pretty selves in iheir looking-glass, the water. One 
reason for this wonderful verisimilitude is, that our fair 
aitist never flat|ei8 the ,flo|wers that sit to her } never puts 
leaves that ought to be there, but are not there ; never 
makes.themholdup.<;heir heads unseasonably, or places 
them in an attitude^ or forces them into a groupe. Just 
as< tbf^ aje, s)ie sets them down ; and if she does make 
i|i^ lAiglbt deviation from her models, she is so well ac- 
q/iUunted. with. their persons and habits, that all is in 
l^efping » yo^ feel that so the plant might have lookedi 
^ the^ vrajr, I do not know any accomplishment that I 
yf/OfM.jDom earnestly recommend to my young friends 
jtt^„tl^ of flower'^painting. It is a most quiet, unpre- 
^^9p4Wr j^omai^y emj^oyment ; a great amusement within 
j^cs, . ^^ 4 constant pleasure without. The enjoyment 
of ^joffWoiiy wa^ is much enhanced when the checqueted 


Ihtiltoijorlfaai tintodwood anenioiie am ta be sought 4Mi 
ibimd, and gathered, and made. our own; andthedear 
domestic km)Is> hs i^n ^ftri by 

"retired LeiniM, 
WlM Ib trim gardenfl takes hitpleuoM)'* 

are doubly gardens^ when the dahlism and china-aster% 
after flooiubing there for their litUe day, are to re*blo8aoin 
on papesn Then it supplies such pretjly keqwakes, the 
onoostlj rememlminces which are so pleasant to give and 
to take ^ and» above aU, it fosters and shajjwns the habit 
of obsarvaliian and the bve of truth. Haw much of what 
is excellent in art, in litecatuiew in conversatumy and in 
(pondwet, is comprised in that little word i 
, u ,£)ll(^a, l^ad great delight in. cpmpaxipg our Sjlvaa Ptora 
^ji^ the, minute and/aiiy^Mson^a.of.tha South Docwiis, 
twhei^ ahe )iad passed tb^-gp^te^part of heriife* Sha 
QOYild Qo^but,admit the.sapeiiac Imuw^oa and vaiiaty of 
^a^„w«Adiaiid plants^ 8^4 jFat sh» M 9 good^d^ to sfiy 
in favour of the delicate, .Bowexy carpet/ vrhicb cWt)MS the 
green hiils of Sussex , apd ii^ Isct was on thal.poiat of 
honour a lit^e ij^abus — r a Uttie, a veiy litde, . the ](m^ in 
the world, tonci^* She loved her Conner ^abodi^ Ibe 
abode vof her childhood, with enthusiasm; thedaw^sr; 
the saa^ n^hpse sound, as she said, seemed to foUow bar 
,to her i^nd home, to dwell within her as it does in tbe 
CoMs of the sea-shell ; and, abovie all, aba knradbataU 
neighliiouTSi, high and low* I da not knaw wbatbnr Mia> 
^aasfield 01 her daughters returned oftanest to the " siaipfe 

Tim duAUi^Pn, 149 

them the mete for their clisgtef Mkd littgetiiis Afibiitbk 
for thcae whom ihlffJ^^,^ We xeceiTed it as a {dedge of 
what they -wmiU Iqel.lbDiM whea- we b orwo ' ^better ac- 
quaintedt — a pledge which hat been amply redeemed. I 
flatter myidf tiiat Aberkigh now almost rivals liheir d6sfr 
old pariah ; only that Clara, who has been here three 
years, and isiioweighteen, says, veiy gravely, that '* |teop1^ 
as ihej grow o1d,'Ci]iaot be expected ttf foob the veiy 
atieng' local attaehmenis which thfey did when they wer^ 
youtig/* ' I wonder haw old Claia will think hersdf when 
ahe ooBtet to hii eiipitHaBa'HweiMy t 

Between Ellen^s storieif attd her ittf^ih^'s \Sbetit h 
ttsaally i ehaiaeteiisiieidiffiftreAce } those of tlhfriotte being 
ttefty,*- iSttntti'' of "fli^ othef'* gtkv^ Oiie occtfrrenrtf, hdw- 
«rer, was ^^uaBy fti^p^'esMi oki the tniod df i^Aiiti 1 
Aal) t»y to'feB ie^aif^ahoMl^'aua i^n^jjAy ^ it Wai^«t)id^ 
me $ bat it-wffl watttthte'tU&tai^ MHr. ft&asfidiiVtini^- 
ittgiwk^, aiid i^'£il(ii'vgIsMenkig'ey(is.' 

Towaid fte botitoi of one df thtf gr^ea' hHb df'fiite 
Parish of Lahton^ was a lai^ deterted ^Cha&^t^it; -k 
aolemn and- ghastly-leoktng place, bkldceMdin d^e pah 
by an oid lunis-lifa), whoae ruindtxs fiagmebts'^^l't^ 
ttaiofid, and' in tidied mdtty'and weathis^4tiinea; t&A 
tinted' #lth emy TanMy'of cttbtn'-^-g^/tieb; yi9l^, ^itt 
^browtt, ' The iexcavaldto extended far witMa'^ iidsa 6f 
tfw hiU, and the edges were £&ged by briar aUd b^fainble 
apd^^ bottt/aalittg ritmigly wtCfa'&eSIhblliU,'f^er'v^- 

41TO 9l^tN i^«bow^^li^^|il9iit9rof a?f«iito.^»^^ ' 

thatjod 1^ ihe pit ««ft4itlile JGfa|««i^. <Tlt»plttMvha4. 
aa eyil nmne; none caied i».pas»ii^inM»iitt.<tb#.glaflB«i' 
the noon-day sun ; and the Tilh9g!Bni would tetbergo^ a- 
mijle about, tljia^ eateb %.-^s»fm oC it i«ib«B )the*:pale 
mpoinligbt lirotigl^t ipto^- AiU nM ilioMt cwroRotWi white* 
w^l^, a^ tbe,>dv)^.1fix9ts,;aDd iny'Wftve^^$tfull|^ in te. 
nigl^.nvidn It.w^ts a| .irngn^ -aBd* sliiidd?«lng Mti^^ 
K,i)n^ ^f;i^if„liFjgf,|j§:,f^ai;fld,JOr ^bat^ J^i tlieawc^wid 
thfi 3jr9ids^ftce , .^c^ fiPiB9«c4> ^\ tlie -wrl» and <1»9 /b««$i 
rep^Jjt^^fx,^nf}fstu^be4pQSa^ oC )^ti^^C)ia)jbL-^ ;. 
One 'pptQ^5rtJ;Biy^jt% .4iyi?lyi:W«»k..<o^pki^g5hiilg»..aiid. 
^oaf-9owtn^, fl^ ^ijii;9^g^,,wq^ goiijg,on,4a» ^t^tce 
^A.fP^ ^eW.j^jli V(e5p94,Ae|4^»a4f»d,jKp<Hi:;.%pB!Bl^^ 
an fi^tefl^ting .9C^> .^^fl^B)? ,9n„^|prii^jprpw4,. Wi 

^t ^ ,«had9^ ovw.othe Jia^dmpt^;-'T0X|iaijdi.tnQfipi» . 
how«v«^r,,,tJve ^f>id^^hpg9ft,,ta^a(flM^^ ap4o9^ofiiie,i^. 
m|en4ciua,^]^ shqyr^n^, (pecidiaj^to,.tiie .conti ,q9Rn«v 

sudd^yijy ,,^^ .Seedsroojy .|dQng^[^,>*and^?artep9,,ib|ifr':v 
tep^Jiipnjj^ pth Jiieif .tcw^^,la*^rij^,;th©;k»|D^ 
and lifci^y^ £v^.in nun^boTA- set o^t at thjeir 0m£st^8|»^. 
Tb^ ,sif>m \avf^ps^ ap«;e ^ jtnd it wm» eidden^t^ tM' 
mm i^^9$f «p^,.pl4 ,^inoqk-»fr?)qka. ^ould h» dwncW// 
Areij^h iw4^.)5jij5).vgb lo^g.tefiwe tbey could xea^ Ji^isntfm. ' 

liiid'fetfless ^ Iii9^raadfiib6ii««kii«tie«wtesfiiufra 
totcoaDtttitttllitice tlM'i»«|^aiy€laEiig«r;aiid:fh«y dl**wUI- 
inglf «dopM liie"pl«]i, ^zoept Mift timii dtflAo^ m^ 
y^atmM, whitfhratnk UMl)Miii^l)^t . • > - ' 

'JIany Lc»Wtts 4 #idiHif«>Mn; lift fiither, a-fishennAiif, 
1i«(ft'periih«i'ttr'feftj"ii tew niMUtt ttfteriHttlnHh of tikiit 
<NKi^ thild ; and'faitf'inirther; a^fefrid atxi ddksits womattj 
had reafed Mni didkateiy aoA ftttdfjr, ^ond W 'a]9|;>arent 
dheaoi^ "Night imd'dUiy had Ui« lab<hii«d'Torh«9r j^ir 
HMiy; arid! ftotfateg bllt^'^ Icmg^iHAei^'Siia'ihe'k^i^ 
kinAtterii' of 'tlte^Cirti^ til tHldMiMfVii^ fae'-wUi^^diAM;' 
hM'iiidMBliii h^tii'^MM'trith hiih a^'ao Mrly all sl^. '* ' 

bf <cw«ty 8lhtiig^f6r hi« geiiih^eSki'aM! 1)^uty. ' fl^'haid; ' 

e^/ iti«i«»'9«^«I'ib 'Aiik 4di«Iftis^ ilk evety ^tatie^; ^if^ 
a ^ftfatitily'of illiniiig'^'Hght haifi-'ciMhlg i^ ihj[glek%iil^' 
hi»'>A«(fk.- 'Wi'mM tfifl^'h^tMdd' ih'MkMiiii^rd^k'-^ 
Stiflfiay^tehMl ;' and* only 'Ihb'^aay Wtr^, Wk minLlM' 

itJiiafty^M ttt^ dt^ded ifii^mii^te 6f bdth'th^'yMii^'^- 
la^ea^ '^IkdieaOoddMh!, tinder Whom he '^ikbd;'atidi(i' 
whttfef^iAiii hi^ had 'mn tearfully dmninht^liy '^'^ow ' 
Ii»;»'iwifc t^piafy fMd tftf him, in i h)ttgher Way'f alifd' in *' 
the present instance, seeing the delicate boy shiv4nn^ ^• 
tw«M'teold and* fterat the outside of th'^ p^t^Y^r tiie 

saMft «btntfMlotail«tfaiikli^ wliAeW ^hhmM hto«AMttg; 
biAd«rad Aim-ftion f^oiiifi^ Imme bfiiteiittf,) he etuiglit MA 
np in Ms «nl»» bi«ig;ht himin^ -mid de^oiited hftn itttbe 
laoggwt noeatty «ii « he^ «f drf «fa«ik. ''' Welly Hmvyi 
is not this better than standnig in the'iMhl^Mid he; 
laaSfyi ftittm^^wn by fait pf»teg6, and ihaidif inMi^him 
a hnge lanaheon of btead and cheese ; andthe poor 4^04 
floiiled .in hia'^ftne, <hankied hhn, and kissed hioii as he 
had tasen used tetiss hismodier. 

HdfMda tear ladi^ M19 ^iii'bejriAh' tillkt, and flkffl liia 
MmBHomtiMied. At htt tJuaeB-^G^ddafd'thoagfat'thai 
ha (half dm stttofii and hanualistoitied standv as«f haiating 

yefc: diatkicdyiaud&lej^^althai&gte te^<|(«iid'4Bid^niD wcae 
fenguig^ |UMb'thB^4]oyB[thlad7in»ltii>land ^hal9hler. .He 
seemed to/«e£ the sound, aa he saidsaftshMtds;} and .ami 
|iist .iaboitttari^pleslteo/. JfisicoaapaaUns -tf < . thajr -too lidaid 
thii<tu«arthl3g'nMaB»;ifhdttrat>hpiieBMin ij^asad^idong^Ae 
Md>l Aihing iBgnsc;^ %gto andnihaatirifer./ ICs anmU 
iiroie,4iP«nad:«a th^ teanpaBti^ Jaasestimshad'aui t»Jiir 
)l^u«:lp>>aleuung$ ahd inthut oMNpaat tha^da oi 4he 
f;i\k9Jik^' faU inf! ijb heard a ciask and a scpeamh- lh» 
fjL^alh, MNeaW'l^feh;. hill baa. gnuwd by.tha.dasAeq^ 
j^iws j,«»d„ilQnii9g.rott»dfc= saw the hill re(\4*.*#.hgfi.a» 
idf^rm^iajta. >4»d thfi;aicilKAtioit ivihieh ;had 8Ml9ia4 ^b«H» 
m)e4,.|^^ihaiped#p,» by ^e stiU.qinveiing and gigantip 
fragments^no vestige leCt>.to t«^ ?wheiait(Wia8».^pr^^ 
his icirrefcched compamons lay buried ! 

"Hany! Hany! the child! the child!;' washisfiist 

tbpiighftuid faufintewlamatioo. ** Hdpi insUiiilielpI '^ 
was tlie next ; and, Msiited by the stamger ^onenan* 
whose qMted had been stayed by the awful cataatrpphe* 
the i^illage of LanKm was qiiicUy alaimed> and ita inha- 
bitants asHwnhleH on the qpet. 

Who may describe that 800001 FatiierSf brothers, 
kintoen, inends» digging Kterally for life J £v«ty- nerve 
q«iveriag with exertion, and yd afl exertioD £bU te be 
unavailing. Mothers and sisters lookinip on .in agony } 
aad the poor widow Lee, swi poof, poor JMnes Godd^» 
the 8elf*acctt8er ! A thowsartd and « thotisaad limes did 
he crxTe pardon of that diatvacted XMther^fbr Ae peril--^ 
tbe deaJii of her sen ; for J«nes iUt ihat-tiiem oould be 
no hope for the helplesa duhUand teaiBsueh as n6 per* 
aonal calamity ooold ha3» drawn* fam the stilteg-^saited 
lad, fell fast Ibr his late< ' 

Hour iafiei' hour. the n^en of XanloiB Jsibonred^ and all 
was in t^», fhe anss seemed fan p a Mtre bte,' inexhias- 
tiblow Toward sunset 'one bay sppeai3Bd». crashed and 
dead; aBodMr,iwhnsbBWed-soiDe<slightaigttv<o#<lifc, and 
who still livesi' a cripple ; a third dead ; and then, last of 
all, Hany Lee. Ahs) oidy by his raiment' imM that 
fond mother know her child ! His dMath muM have Ikoa 
instantaneous. She did not linger long.^ The three boys 
were interred together in Lanton ehunih-yard on the tluc^ 
ceeding Sabbath ; and before the end of tl^. year, th^ 
widow Lee was laid by her son. 



As I walked by myself, I talked to myself. 

And myself replied to me ; 
And tbe questions m3rself tben put to myself. 

With their answers* I gire te tfae^. 
Put them home to thyself, aid if unto thsrself 

Their rei^nses the same should be, 
O look, well to thyself, and beware of thyaelf» 

Or so much the wone for thee* 

What are KKhes? Hoarded treasures 
Alay, indeed, thy coffers fiU ; 

Yet, like earth's most fleeting pleasures. 
Leave thee poor and heartless still. 

A COLLOQtyr WltH MYSSLr* 165 

What are pleasures 1 When ailoRled, 

But by gauds whieh pass away» 
Read their fate in lines recorded 

On the sea-sands yesterday. 

What is fashion 1 AskofF<^y. 

She her worth can best expiess. 
What is moping Melancholy 1 

Go and learn of Idleness. 

What is Tnfth t Too stem a preacher 

For the prosperoos and the gay ; 
But a sale and whelewme teacher ' 

In adveraty's dark day. 

What is FosniUiiip'l If weU founded^ r 
Like some beacon's h e avenwawl ^ow'; 

If on false pretensions gsoundedy 
Like the treaebHoas sands Mow. > 

What is Lowell IfcB«t%otaly» ' 

Like a meteor, of the night ; 
Shining but to leave mora lonely 

Hearts that hailed its tnuMit light : 

But, when cdai^. vsftied* - aadl ^adirv 
Purified from. pasSMii'sstai»> > 

Like Hkt moQo* 'l»fentl#^ipleMleuiv 
Ruling tr^flT iHevfaaevfuVsnWBJ 



What ue H^p^^Jtf^ f^j^tgrnfift^m^f^m^ 

What alt|JFean^..4J>Wi>N^ 

Shadows ^(i^ fim.pi}ffiiplp ptf ,n . j/. 

Eveiy moment ^butogPQtvif^ / .n ^n 
If we yifeld lu^Q tjwk.wityf ;j.~>i . , j 

WhatisMiith'! A flash of Ugfatning, 
Followed but by deeper g^oom. — 
I Patience 1 More than sunshine brightening 
Sorrow's path, and labour's doom. 

What is Time 1 A river flowing 

To Etemi^s vast sea. 
Forward, whither all are gtnng, 

On its bosom bearing thee. 

WhatisLifet A bubble floating 
On that nlent, rapid stream ; 

Few, too few its p rogres s noting. 
Till it busts, and ends the dream. 

What is Death, asunder rending 

Ever^ tie we love BO well t 
But the gate to Hfe un-ending, 

Joy in bescven 1 or woe in. hell ! 

CtttiiaBtB tmotty by repBtitiOD, 
Lote flieir uagnSxade or 'weight Y *' 

•|?,t;i^. till 'I*!- MLLUH'-Ii mil (ytTfii ' ''' ' ^' 

JUiUMte^iiy own comiuoii, 
£re iMrai:|)ttii wst fi^&rnii ^s£te. 

Much ittET^ tiffl tfi'left W dtf : 
Be not by pwjf failfoli O ite ate d ; ' '' <''' 


1 1 

^ t 

■■ •'. » 

r. .:< 

./ 1 « 

I \ 


1 ■ ■ f 1* V , 

\ 't* t» } A 




** A wooaded qpirit who can bear t" 

A YEAB or two befiore the death of Lord John Munay, 
in 1787, be built a house on the bordexs of his Yorkshire 
estate, -vi^iere it skirts the high moois of Derbyshire, iU' 
tended to unite with the characteristic conTeniendes of a 
form to which it was attached, that of a phu% of pubUc 
entertainment* The idea was a good one ; for, as the 
house stood high and in a lonely place, it might serve as 
a beacon . to the benighted traveller in that mountainous 
country, and could scarcely fail of being at times a wel- 
come resting-place to numerous petty farmers, condemned 
ia cany thffir produce for many .a weariaome mile, where 


Ituiniiii habitation nev^i cbeeied their view, to thefint 
populous town which offered them a maiket. 

It will he evident that a houae of this description was 
moie likely to be beneAcial to him who oocasimially used 
iU than ftdilntfe lot him .«iiio kfpt it ; .«nd:i|lthotigh it 
was within a short distaace of a mannfecftttring district* 
And in a manner suionnded by collieries, many ciicum^ 
fltanoes combiaed to render it improbable that it should 
ever become that bane of society, a popular public-house ; 
And the respectable coaj^ who were placed in it, weie 
evidratly of a descriptiim to forbid, rather than encourage, 
the visits of die idle tpenddirift and the dissolute tippler. 

The ain was considered an enoeUent farmer, and the 
woman a ^ood manager, of wbkh evidence was given in 
the appearance of aHtrottnd'tiiett riinee, notwithstanding 
the Ueah situation and the. utonelenees, eveiy thii^ looked 
in a thriving states and within their dwelling there was an 
air of comfort and preprioty, which denoted indwtry and 
taste. Every reom posseMod eine attractive' <el^giace» 
hang decwiitAd wtth cfaeioephnta) lof the landlon} un- 
derrtsod gttfteing; and ihiding #uA the Ideals winda ^^ 
th« high monift lorbade ffaa iBvOtsvatielt -^"flsfress in his 
gai6en, si^plied tUs lanoeent grAltteatioJi ^ Uansdf and 
his 'mte, by ehmea myrdes andgay geraniums^- I wdl 
tettiember him as -a handsome iam of three >orfonr>and 
Skilly, iH^ wtts always seen at^^hurel^ ¥M ^leaied, #ith 
ft Bpn^in his hutton^hd^,' aceempaaied by a Unht^giii, 
' jaho 'WOTS a gliy bonAet, .and* a'toog ^mi^piotdif-aB wdiite 
ivkflnow^'^tt whemheollwi'tuil'looksiof |cMdimpBs..uad 

16D TBB w}vm oM tsa noons; 

pridtt Sli» was, iiidnd» n kntly cbild, *]iii &8l«benf ani 

his darling* - 

But tiie timeeaaie, wlieii tiie laadlord of the « RiBoig 
Son" c c M c d to occupy hk fleatmofafiadi, to saimter aboM 
Idi door when tlio howt of labour were ovar« and (what ex* 
oited itill UKM attealien in lo indaitrioos a naa) to ine 
nvith the laik, and partake tha toils of his ]daixgh*baf. 
Ho sat in sOence on one seat, and -when routed hf the 
veiteiated dwnands of hii taaponfy gunts, svoald Atazt 
aaffom the remdeofl the stodbus, or the slvmbera of &e 
lediaiigie. Tbochaiktce passengo* tirould natniaUy oondenim 
the'iazjrhuidiivd^^'wlioisatin appanttt etnpclF, as: an tii^ 
^lialed dnggtod-; bntlhe XBnhu^ff ^mSt and the cmrioiia 
neigfaboaF'alikhi' knew thairhewas atiithis tisMt temperate 
to aNtenBiamtoess ;-<htttliis>faaidy >fiBgitf was wasted, has 
nddf 'Oonqdaiil}»chaliged<to aadoBrarcma pahneas^ becatae 
allappil&tohadiDiiaiMaihirai and; fthat' his itigfats wane 
aatjeci>lo aiwaJsaanesanyhiA aaadkiaateotddaol qneU> 
ebtHBaty^ sooihe^ iior teMatian cealvoiiLrv . , . ., 
'r> Eay^me andl'hataeat^^assed unnbtked^hy! the eaea 
tetiva fiaiflse^i;. dinLtfaeiiiHftw ladiieed ahnoatrta deiqiair hy 
thb nielandidyr siipiiieBeia'af has hashaad; beieame oaaible 
^itfrirttike.inaDimkkk kaa%!iiaei^^ aioand her* 
Their .gHei|tkj'f<aseolL«thitphaa8a; Iheu^sinraiito nilad» or 
deserted it:; aMd.the>neigldMws,'niiMred4oQ{iaipaadon, or 
eontitodihy >casiDiity» hotted ^theoMebpea with inveMigaliaig 
iliOiidauftaiofa.:JBhailg»« •o<<entik» and ao aaacooanlahle* 
They recollected, >4hat^ alAoagh sober ialtta habitB and 
ofdady itt/his {ooiidMi|i«,te iaAHovd'Jvfiai woal^ l» mg a 

jIutttmg'Song aiid.Mii:a nmvf telftid' UMr, 

but it was also certain that he was both prouil*aad>pa»' 

9iflMietQ4ilifim;4halhefaad te anfanMD"ioidaa»diesB 

«i »**•— **^ "Which <bqr ^hi to kaindioiikuB.*ift hiaiMatioir^ 

4MKlati4)hMDtk)o tardnuihefiiiUiK^' vhich^ iB-'a/fatadloBi^ 

vmsiftMDklelyiiiiinataBals ecdd-thiM jhiite af tBnper m 

iweffn^ leodbr hitt melancholy mr, aathei^teamd 

ilVC^tqr?. . •• ■ ) • " .. ^ .. ■' bi» 

> . Thttiirifii tana4a'daif-«8e toeuoh HegBfrt ii »m>3 r tetfar 

te WBSfahm|P kitidk «ial a* a penvdof'jnffmiigishagoeiihl 

mntaiittv.Bo.'faiilttA' Diitai^ftiim)tfaB.itelth«li4ui-avil 

•onnei £Rni..bo4% ttiainnf» h^ithe- assunnmrxAiv^fldveial 

■wdinbine><iAq<tshe.^aA«>iMirited, shftlia|eaed)aa9ei% 

^ tl)e*>«da«e0 of >thMe<>anniig;.ilfirv'iiei^^ibaiii8i.i«ho^'faad 

^Btelf Iniwd^fae WabjiOEcAiMiedilltSi >aaAiaiwni^iii> 

4i% 4»*9M)geadi ehtnoM^Bwhaia) jte hadi4itogta w i pD faled 

^ar^iuapiety.. : Bat^i^laftli poiioggMiM, i«r: aaheftftfilaa, 

|» I urnftntJa^ofoaiiBSw tit— laAxftwaadiajBawe cl iiheiK>frf«^, 

of the coesciciMjo iiiainiim awit«iwiiii9i paMee^ jaadiithe 

^flMuraar lerimia^itO'nijcfee^ hail:«iijf(.e£faot aSi.afieitf hy 

#ialiniia)ia tmA».^.Tlk»i9nM Jmad all'^>a«id'«>th 

(a yiiuar hi> al ia < aa e tBd air> «iiiliaL>pe|fiKt^ftihw9a^Biidiiit 

lidgfliafOie,4^iB9» **Y^gmmn9L^pmd:maai>UidiiJfkaak 

•yoiiettMeM^ ) hutjFOii amw* th»nMH»'t»helpiua.'V - ' < 

4> <f ltti)slgeta^dei0rBMDi/ a qMlly'iMm«<i:iiiaii^H .mU 

;Afe-':iirifi»^ ttoi witheat*ieceibctiayiOei<;^iB'atwaea<.ofjwitai»- 

"CVftftr^a tetchy hefgfURimotbef itc^'da^ iof «hiUha«i, 

^iriuch'iweeaabled tfatt-eTtipiediaiifycaBe^; >j.>>u>j3' /:»> 1 

/ 'iHi^^litiwi ligMwhroteJiet hinlrtarfiiaal ghmy^ahown 

p 2 

iliiffly ituottof 'bmigB icotatonaatfe and. Und' iQtiiii«i«K 
sad).' • in 4he ioodnng >ge a fleiteM ««£ kMitddKMy. lor Hr^fem 

Ae 'Uiiraiid Ifuwft^way » .^wu^ Idhinft WMte hit tyeik* lw» h<i>rt 
Ifciofahectwitli/iigitaliaBr; bnt^when bB^t^^ at^twasoiri^ 

;:rdtfi«ti(r<)ki.twBrki9<^iii4iu]»iinA^ iJ^nfegtM^mm r file 
detenanted-^' iiiliiK ii * vvov i<iat>'«ii. his< dip«(> . and/f <i»ilk'.llM 
^■Diptfan)irfi<tli»mahibi^ I^indi/^^«Uteh-8^^ test 
inn U^oiiadaBtltti^iaBAio hbitAt&MbdfiStiitmMasamllt'hb 
ktaii^lirintt/: idlinyiiMedEbiiwotfid^oite >vhki» Ii«>n4t«t 
ipoic/!) Met «relviliieD^« ic wu ii teHni i re 'tehrtwed .A«k< hk 

nUlMnn^ Jil»- <«^ diba^btBtDcr iMrildaBtn^berlilteiedi; viA 
aa'^fUppawt* i&teHB«toni^o£) neditafim.'^^ MiB^t aiivAiii 
«^)}€Be,i idijteikQi;llom<i«Hgimi^ .^nacerolrendvdd^adfBittad 
fl^iiatqwoiilipBt anaiccDld be<btafciediimdi iioi^itlwr 

CJlqXjtilji'i/' i!.l»,' !,' ■ - 'i . fi»-i' yi-»;r<i^ n'i| frill ;io7-{.f,I, 

In the autama \» % g lfc' yEwqoeiitly ftd^lnave" hal 'ifanr 
hoaffef^; 4tadKgw r i4dtn(|i^V9A«l0ttli,^'si^i<6 <e8pe(iia}^ dmiig 
t#s«^^[ila<AJHi(>«ightt,^4&'whfeli''he>K^ii^^ v 

]^d'^ii«ij^erMtei{)l«Mii00. >>Ife^«ridht'hkrf«ettiimtotraM' 
thMl'^th <iflileh 'led ibHuf ^aMitioh of mavr; %itt Wtb 

ci«iKtdi?<6li^ m UHM^^t^ httMkft* and focky gietii^' ^^sildt 

Biyit'w mwm Bfy 'Or vuitfipiiNli *h0 n^pit intnd' ii^MMt 
MfllMlf } luid IM '4ltHl woaU' te'tetarnui ilu»-«tiiiart 
•■hinwwf «hid« dltrovefy, 4l*MPlto folKule faetMUM fa " 
litaM in lermi cff'tenoTi He iPMdd>«one bitk Mon 
diy'bwA, eiliMMed; bttf eahn ; ctmp to hk bcd^ «nd M 
IM belkw^ kerto l» ukep^bendkiiidlyofii hn^wmelMA 
partner, tad MiiMliiiHitlledwaUiiigttaMBvpni Iter fiM»c 
oAta fimM Iwlnieil, nd tlMn-deepfraiiui baniAeiDliif 
boicntf; butino ardotiliite iw«ii.ef yiyit weipeflJiim< .> 

•At liri* peiW»tihe/aev8ierwchtli«''li*«etfettitandpi«Ml 
tin loBg ff«iiilAB*"lie iooli} .^gpe tbei'idMiHorMaagr^ liuBt 
Mthoig le«i4hio llief|>Memtitnll'«lraa8^ 
midMii, boMihivei<nirttiMdliiini;ilBidilwMi cv idto m 
«wf tiM oeldi.eaiigfaD < in be^' AfotiirBia gaeidwiiiliip i kid 
(tBgetltor tillh*heraiihfalbi)tiiiaai. tto iiceMoot ceoilH 
latfeB o£' hk ifife,> n i l w'1i e » dvidwUf W' »c oomiavflkni* 
Thieofriaieti'fiNret^niyk'M^tbAripriag •dnuMMd»!fie»,lti 
becoming dMeinifatl'ifaii btangdi eUa iwne *t$mfi\t»fBtf, 
exhausted, that hit •farunk and withered Ibmi would 'Mi- 
ninch lcdgar'Wiitiin'the><oiMi(Bt« •• "** • ' 

' •PnliaiM'a •enae^efweakatM leaderadibiWiat.Akif'liiM 
aiifene<ter|)eh%al«aef.*a»lie'/h«l yi e vl e u i iy dii l i M 
itoaialy \ evea iiow<he<pnteitd hit 9mtk Ulliedaitghler. te. 
aliy'Otho- panon*. To hii ditaased liDftglQatietti< ap^ 
rastlrf dirturbed by Mpefiftitifltti teneta, the child' $|ip^|fad 
a Uttdef guaidian aageli whoMi pt9$ticAng\ piet^wwifer 
owed him fiom tbareyilfle|.8ppfifheiMnoo.andilhe'i4>pflWc« 
flanm of *'fcwftd«riitMdB* The -cMng ^,%i dmoTiji^AiMMOf 

IM TiiViMiiM < Off tM^ 4iixMft« 

aaiMl of «PlMdls smv tl^to home,- 'iMtnovred up^liisr «ottlJ ' ftB< 

iQM, la tli0 ^weqr frime «f "Us Kfei-^rallttl 4o n shaiAeur^ 
and biMlidg^i»ilb-Uid lnttioi»4f fk«kaiM«e'«ld sge-, walk 
ootlMainf oii.ikeirhNiidto^4€liildijf 'Mieb yeanoM^ 
Totkitf'dkiM eatiy^oRtfir faad-g^ves pMatatare pcywen- of 
tteii^t, i«ftM %neie vaitsii^ wiAT'iincettiMn bMuty, eikl 
th«l'dibplieity'«r«Bit»ta^ JHeMuit'tfr-lrar fl&laation. ^Mm 
watehed •^rmf tom^bt to-iaJUMr^tf-saaiEeii eye, - and ii^rer 
did;i(t^laiM9t Mftii fiOivH^ iifta^d Mt g*ithei^/er'a JilasM on 
«hib)^Utti«^ Mai;f <einil(^ttot «i^ake' 'aoiiie' «4^9»vatioB. I# 
aiM)iWiiitaear4'M Mitt 4iillk%3lMi!tg^4fe8otttB)'ahe w<^^ 
i^Mat^wi||yiat»'4»f)tiM^ \kS» im^ lw«^*^ telate the M<M7 
9»MMi^iMj4mya» MMetMieA'iii'hQf >'6)pdt^g^4M6k» mud' 
wo* 'hwv'wtMiP-* AMisaaid^eaAMttMriifi'ite '<i«k>lm ^le 
((aeBtiimS'Of tbt Cataoblcfak'^ At'^nKer^lStaea, ahe would' 
lead turn to his withered myTtk«r;'«Bd' hlft trimkea gatoff^ 
aiid.^lflyftdly«Mde 4iitf iftij^ecf; tMeft'rtptiagfdmatd; to 
aho«r^«i4MM<ikagtate'waaittbst^pE«taii^ii%) taid^jiioiihossr 
aii»oJ«f^liaie« ' Wttenoveiy ^fiblftfiaikd toioaae^aMeff-^ 
tioviaiid- elMif "pleasiii^> afte woald 'thiow^^ier - arma tooiM! 
hiaiiei^>lcis»itlft pale foteheadi aad, aa the tea w ati B aflttd: 
dowit her toi^ dieeU, eacltiiM, *< Hava yen not mt wcktl 
^»|foai4iMle-Matyr' • ' . . f •' . , 

Sundays <w>er«' now 6B|«eial days of sorrow faHf bott 
Sfaiy ifttdiili^r ^dfetnteaedinotfaer/ wko^-eonakieied H her 
daty to send her daughter to churchi about a mile distant ; 

Mill te^duldfriored tlwi nittto* ptraift ogvUrgsr^*' tte 
imod nlaoe. and aikG«dtoeonfoct4kNBa« - QttiMbhaih 
moming in the beguniag ^Mufw f^Mba-mmk oumo 
IP wMk.tb8t bo lumod wJulal dnmig, m. wUoh Mpoimt 
M«iy lemvoed at hmpe te iuixw>«nd mwim Mm* Dinng 
tke tima ahe aat wiUiJbin, thft.«fttti-4epMl9dii«dk "I 

■0ir Axcited by uaniaal «nia^> tbovglit tiitft m the loiir* 
rallied ioiuidswbi^lbUowvd* be aaid, <<I wMb-^Iivan 
haogedT' ipi ia gmt boRiv Meiy cnid oat» '* Ob t 
IjMfacr, fetber ! yoe. aie.wiokai^^ywa.frigblee »•.*' 

Tbewiilehed man bwatiillo taanN «i4 vopi; abulia 
dandy, aaeeeWvmldowiii. by TiKwiaiwv* .OUtnididbe 

a«IC, aaif iiq(iniin|»;kw«9P*,^|Ky|l4'MA imd^/iiefpiit bar 
ten bU.fshair, a^d^ mwiwl biirlMa».,a» tfefliiatodwitb 

Maiy iTM gn/^ad jtatt b a boaH tO'ieaibin /Wiif 'ibasj 
bntiba ooQMiva^ it.bac4a4y^i*B)Mvejibiab«iiteCaaii«wf, 
aa aha bad tn9d lode oitm balaoB«:by.divcniag bi».aMan« 
tion, and tbeseCpva ivant to. tbe mnAaw- to maka obaana«> 
tionai and aaid to bar jooiih«$, wbo waa .entorisgith^ioeiii, 
**l9^ all-lbe peoplo vrbe aza coming liQia cbatcbd tbent 
if a vaiypietty carnage, witbtwo geiitlepio»i«itwaed4|iay 
botb loob oat of tbe window tov^raid«Hrboiua." ,. ^ 

"It in the Aector of ^-^^aad bia Ctu»te» «b0 


iM TAB UOVfU^ on TAB tfJOfmM- 

'fliesMmbv biip» wd Iilcnm him," lepUed Ms^i 
* * beoause. he Maid, fatto. did lig^t not 4o ;give old Asiid: 
C)ikDnie.«n!y mqmiiqiBw/' . 

"I]Nm't liiBak of, ]NM»r.o|d Aaak, «hi]d»" SBid 4m 
modier ; " it is a twelvemonth this veiy r^r«iT^g siooe. i 
i«M iram my had- lo^eeihi^.daad.body .hiougbtin. Jaones 
Gia^ id bdow# aiid(haaj«8t remvided me of iL" 

'* Jaqias Qnm is«a>ibQl, a vi«kah» my wont eaxpm^Vi 
cried thai«ch . maoi. with «i»9qsi^aiidstraigth that humW 
h»h^at9a,MX»j^iy9itk'j»at(9k^^ h«t in, aao^httc mq- 
iaeaihp.sunk.haok.iniHa gr^chak, disking in eveiy 
im\>. Gf4ddi)9fSAfsi{iieBt>uiig.p|».hiB<Wowj)us8irai^ 
eyes ieem(»d,gazinff.oA,9acan)cy nfith teporindeacribahle.; 
hia.^apd9.iKere'«lenQh(4}^44kd.~.hi» lipa><iiiivei«d wMh a 
c«nTii^BXKemq^,,eAiffli)m.p«i^}aiwHwt^ to,agoiqr« 

Thewifey be^ ^ei^i^ with death, itself^ dsoffiefl 
on hec.Imees, before him, aod wi*h.<iliaxtiQidate.wprda. and»t jsp^ke the,intf$fisi^ af;her gij^ aQd,i%, tned 
ta^pc^y Av.hiil dfypMtu^.%Hntt; bat. in a faws m o me ia t s s ha 
lottiid.that he Jbad* taken hold wi her danied hyndp^ and 
^las fifawipgiier tanaxd Imn. 
, *;fMiwy» m hahnwiJUwt ^ tim^ ia.4»me,|»> ,%9i| 
•haU ]k|90W allf Sead , Aianwnn^^^.ioF 1^ Ae^j^V } ^qn 
kJftWM^ ^ ivntice,«f ; ,tha .pea«>9,'T-4^"<«ftl«*i% 'ifffff 

Xhei^e,,,^^i^)?5il^ed,.w>th. toffw 9ndfiaAi^^,ts!m^,m 

Ti»>r'iit>ifift*o)r -nm iio<mi. 10 

her ]|<diglilNMii9 h»A m often Hinted^ fktA nowtcailyaititei; 
bat the UsteAed in^ngin foribe itvingB of ddiriixtt. WHh 
aALtiie Utde *«igth tliftit lemaiaed to Mm, but in few 
words, the unhappy man oontimnd to tifge her to ieoA 
iot the Rector, as conMtinlly' repeating, ^hwauM he is a 
jutftie0ofthepeftoe»" ' 

' ' This was the very leMon why tfae^wife i^tfM have pi«u 
lerred any dther c lMgyid an $ lit dhahad, in common with 
manrf p^rsena in-hei'sMtiohvuldaliof aweof *te office, 
Which induoM her toieel that «he could not throw ttpw 
the- 8ol«m%'of her bh^' harasaed spuiP to 6m m tthidi 
thjbve her. • Bift the 'liemaad was impaiDui ; tior ^ttiM 
shtf kMjk hi the ootttttoHanoe'^f hitif ao^^long 4m taher, 
withmit hefuig conaeioaB'that hi«"ra(|hfetto #aro'ttM^ff at'ir 
dose.' Mtry irtotberelbie 'despatched' to ^he^heii^ "of d 
nt^S^ibonr, who «mi' g(^ tc» the 'afteraDon aei^^' «Nd 
undertook to bring'hi^^pfonh]^ mten that was ovef. ' 

The hounord'eonthBiM iStentfcM^ aoma iimfr. ' Ee^thM 
ttiked ftir'lua dinnta^ ^«ffich he ute-, 'ifnot'^Mttlh^ipp^tiiw;' 
yet %nth* levwiraotty * airo tfaen'tbnt -A cdp^^n^ifist odet^i^they* 
Wi&lteai^ Hfcnt ^o hdd ^ dtty'to perfohtf-MrWdfer 
.would require all the energy he coiild mnst^i'.' "Ih W 
better dkys; hefaadbefen icmadEahle for potsoirti' neat- 
ness ; hnt it WW manjr menths idnee the last teMge' ef 
lhi8qin(Etykfthita, to the esp^Md grief dfliis goodwifer; 
whonowhelttdhim'wlih sorprise* entieat hto *'totndte 
ttWioolcdebelit, by eiteobin^hiirhair, ndici'fHxtling^lilin'bik 
a clean cravat." That hair was now white as mflk, and 

MB • tflv liovriA Mf tM- teocfRt* 

nAitiMM Bif atlnlly e¥iteit to all tmmid fahn thai ^e 
Am horn ylMiiM My tJeeHoii, tometiimg Hl:e hope 
:«&! tht pmr womait'ft ixMoai, as she thus mimstered 
to hii iivHii»Mt IbmI Hhairliis wttrts. '^ If he totfld oi>6ti 
his heart to the Rector, if he could get tom^Drt for Mi 
Aoal, doiMeMi hit i»t6ig&k woM feMtn, he oould yet 
raJMiH^hia «Airt« and al miM be irtreH again $ die 
livBuld aot>be left wiiJi' her ^ihlhh«ft in abnotrand po- 

▼erty/' ' '• '■ '' '''' *' *'• '* ' ' ' 

■3iit her lEhld4Bflloei>'* ihoii^ peiTOrali^ hyhands*' now 
jbebla hy UmgmOkt^/^SA "hot ^ffil ttj^ the tinle, and n 
leaifol fe«tl«eMftov'^t''flbekM^ to di^patd the ^i 
floaiei' ilMngdi «tf 'thb'^fkiifi'^ itebaiBded:^ Itetl^r'firairjr 
k»iffify^*abM'hf«k ^ ^is jdActuil!^ i ^d^ for' a few mo- 
nesta^tte i^*«efe)i of ibe fhth^ Idol^ u^nhef wiih 
^Hght< ^tfa» joy i^« of lOiott (jUd^dbn'i foJr'>»^eh sHfe 
anMMledio the* tiine> ai^ tsdA, ^k 'damage W^'advan- 
efaig/' -^he'ftAd^Usr 10 go'itway iir^ tox^' ao' Mtif &e^ 
iJHeti«ia» tdd €!^n'hdrror;''fiu^i0(ie poor tehMwa^ ovef- 
^(HMBi^'ahd'hiih^ t^nnThim aa ifihc^4^afita^<Jrl^ 

^ • *ACto*4^y now, Hat^/''^ii<l'fll^lftmhei^-' t^j^H^ 
f^the^<dDbr^ 'J'yoii thaft-bdhM ^gaSh When ilr.'^-i^ 
iagonik/' ^l^/novno!*^ eried fhefttthcor, *«Bh«n(ttM 
eUHe xioinere, Jhemiot' never hwV on mengain; so 
«Miie-^«tfek^Hdlkd'1dka'nie; idiSld/ o^ iikoie;H&tf tHAf taslt 

«iial;lier.stnMigpivV :'•'♦.' -i .•/■••'• '•-■ t. «' ' '^ 

and who caa lielp yoa lo well ai I can ] " * : >-. 

,^„., Jn^aifoAcr tawmnXr; ^r,f;fifa^^mmhli/ltM »' 'tha 

jjo^tl^ da»Q|^oi^oft|»9fi^« !$D99|h«r vilbtfaaMtiifliMf 
wido^hMKl ». yflt» ip^the fpndl apw^ wi matm M Pl W ili 
/»f a wi^'ft <:mm<^iir^ >; ii»,t))a.Jiiwiai^ mapoMt «llikii 

(^ jBibla JUdd,Q&:(he.dn|fyfiBiVi«nl tba i|ir oCrOVipp^'Ibiif 
OMDmon neatnott in all aioand, he was indaoed ta 4|i|lh 

^4^ o ftfo l iti n B# of leMgieia nught aJUo he ejywemagjt^ - ;•/ 

. He wat ^ed £ro])i thU ha«ty siuv«rjr, bgr.tlHh 4«lli!» 

i^yi^chial Ipna of ona^wha looked as. if ha y a rt^fWifncJWW 

in inhabitant of the too^, yet spoke with a cJ^jjinmn^ 


voice «od 919606111 of luogB whkk, In a> hmg&e a. being, 
peemed almost supernatural* and witk a brerilgr and pie- 
ottioB seldom met with in a man o£ his statkm. 

" You see before you» gentlemen, a man worn damn 
to the bfinkof the grave by aiBictioix, by remone. I am 
now going to do that which I oog^ to have done twelve 
months ago. Oh ! that God may have merey, and acoept 
the only atonement I can ofier ! — but I must hasten. 

** Yo9«. sir/' (to the Rector,) " lemsmber poor Anak 
Qsboime's death, a year ago 1" 

** I remember i^ perfectly : he called at your honae 
abgut ^nidnight, tuid seeing that he was already in liquor, 
yew lelused to give him mote» He was found dead, I 
believe, near this places in .a maiiioer often predicted finom 
his bad habits, poor creature : his waggon had gone over 
\dm, and crashed mm lA death." 

** Yes, sitt^fmnd dmd / > A\sa, bat I mnst speak tiie 
tnUh— 41^^ th^ trtttht Anak, although a sad drunkard, 
was a kind, good-natured- man, at all gdier times ; but 
when in liquor, was extremely ab«sive, and on the nigfal 
in question he used such pcovoldng language as to xaisB 
m^ anger to th^ utmost pkch ; so that my wife:. almost 
ll^uhed him ^out of the door in kindneas, fiMrfiear I dionU 
bo tenq^ to atnke him. The house was fnUof peapl*^ 
who were returning from the market at ^' ■ <» and she 
was iaanollier moment called to aittead theas, and pn>- 
V<^bly nevser heard the shameful language be Jittend against 
W» Mit.'UnhanHlj I..did, And. unaeen by any femeB.*! 
fiolbwad Mm out of the house, and in my rageaeiaed his 

TBS mOUtM OK TH^ MOOS«« 171 

aym canuft'i mUp (eaiily wreflB^ cnlt of teadbKke hlB)» 
aa4 fpnag i&sa a vibteut blow with Ike' butt end m hit 
temple, he liaU in a menieiit (as I bett«v<ed) deed tl my 

" Jba rage wbich had pronipled'me to thtt mad UoWt 
iBStantiy wbeidedy and herror and t^iOr poasetted ma } 
but my mind was more alive to the dangers which Bttrt 
rounded me than I ean describe. Another momeBt» and 
idl would be discoveved. I was so near the houie, that 
I could hear voices and lauglrter, and firete the li|^t#hich 
steeamed hom the windows, I beheht poor old A^ak, my 
victim, act my feeU Hia weU-toaiaed hones w^ tfaeii 
obeying the direction he had given at the momeftt I leeched 
ham, and were slowly innding voond the ata^< which 
brought them into the turnpike loady and I saw in-a umh 
ment the possibility of escaping diHeclion* Omspmg th^ 
body, which at any other tune I should have thought 
beyond my stapength, 1 earned it quite across that cohmIi 
of ground leading to W , and laid it on the spot 

where it was found* I>iving that timfif no sound esoaped 
the Mpe, "no faBeath issued from them ; yet I thought that 
at the moment I laid the body down in the road, which 
the vieag^n had now tutsoLy reached, there was a modon 
of the fieait J yet I laid it down — ah ! then, t}mi I was 
indeed a murderer !" "* 

The aanative was anested *, k/t the w^, wfao» had^ long 
been gazing on the speaker with looks of mcredullty and 
hoivQv, i^t this instant dn}{4)ed on the floor inadeltth-lilw 


•wooa, we iywy B ic d by tlie full and dreacUbl comictiair 
wliieh WBod on her leofltt. Fond as he had certainly 
been of her, yet this jiainfol cinmmstanoe did not greatfjr 
aiiect the conscious murderer, whose mind was endeatfjr 
stnug up to one awful purpose, and when she had bees 
conveyed to another chamber, he eagerly resumed hia ter^ 
rible narratiTe. 

** How I got back to n^ own house I know not, for my 
limbs shook, my tongue cleaved to my mouth, and my hak 
stood stiff I3ce wire. I dunk in the back way, and came 
up to this chamber, where, as soon as I was able, I crept 
into bed. It waa not an uncommon thing for me to do 
this, after 1 had been busy in my farm, and was moch 
fatigued ; therefbre when my wifeimssed me, die was nei- 
ther surprised iior son^, atid on Coming to bed put out her 
light ^eedily, lest she should cfotuib me; She Ktde tiiougfat 
I was not adeep, die IHde foresaw that I should never 
sleep again. 

** The hOrsesof Anttk at a late hbur reached his master's 
house without their diiver* That master, his son, and 
tervahia, iastanlly set out to seek'the poor wretdi, whose 
fault they tfx> well knew ; and just as the momii^ son 
broke inAo that window, there was a knid kaedcittg at my 
dbor, and voices were heafd demanding instant <adakittanoe« 
I jumped out of bed, opened the window, crying vehe- 
mently, * be BhaH not be braiagfat here.' At this mo- 
ment it was impossible for me to see the body, for the 
Window of the house, as you petoeive, was betwitt me and 

TWI JMViB OH TSK Moont. 170 

iJi^4p»m- Akl wiky .4id:iMit jAnMfi <ii«MB,' to- wliani X 
^fv^ nolioe thsie wocdsl W]iy wasl not app»hqid<d, 
^^iody «andeiiiiied> and executed t Oh ! it was erudl aai«- 

*.' M^ipodr wifif «k|^ aouncUy* % ahe Itad been muob 
faiaguedi, lavoU bar, a&d seat her ijown to tb/» 2ne9» 
My heait bitterly reproached me, for I knew she wouU 
^.dwadfiiHy s hQ pke d» igr she wa& fiwd of. the dd^aimaQ ; 
but I Uk that her peaaenQe thsi;e would be a protectioo. to 
saeR and that.aba woidd eofiDice- my comioaii^. .not .to 
^dmit'the dead bo^y int^ the hoi^e* UaU as)eef>» sh9 
faaaid but |iar% whati laid; yet, wh^a.-rpuaed hjy tine 
dieadfullBct^'She actiKl upon it,xaU^ the aerr^utitiandlffd 
th* party. pito..tha bf9n»,V;)iera thei imjD^t was )^^|d<v. J 
pteaded Hifism #nddidADj^,lfsye iqy,F90]n.s(nna4aya ;. nor 
waaidieplsa «;i|dsa^iia^ J^f4^.w«i^ tbe49ifo^:^, 
wodt -thBj(,a |f«9i^ 4eiaad..on ,m^ immi^. m^ ^^aqci^a 
fire was kindled in my. heart which burnt ino<y» v^ti |y,;mtil 
Z 'knew- ^<ai$6a was. btuiaiy .w^ I ^ane.fl^Ue of 
great i«lief, tiiadto ceoaO iny scattned tltongbMi tp see. the 
imfartaaae'Ci eluding fuapidaUf and th» neca^si^'qf .49^ 
peatiagaaiisoalt . ■ > 

'f.CoBiFeiiatioBi stiU ran on Anak'a dsatht find I Jbeani 
muktaon mads of the blow <m lns.hsad w>th a cold shudder 
90 severe as to axiust my speech, and makia ny kn«eaT^nite 
eacholher ^ but my sitnaiioii was notobteraed^ and anoUier 
speaker doubted net. but thablaw was produced .by his. i&dl' 
•aad all agieed * it was not wontj^rfiii, that .tfv^ a man 



«flin»te>M«hiii Mft/ ' Uly wifi>«t thtee siomttiils 
£Mkid«tt>'«iB(lictto lum, 4iid often to koDent him efon-^mfi^ 
tMM^nbaUiiigllM'tuiiewliciii he had ghrm fiofwenanA 
gingttimtd to lier childiea, and she woidd then Mod ngr 
▼eiy hearty by derentiy thasking God tfaalkor < dearJttDMB 
dAA net lift lua hand agaiast tiio poor aool oa thast'fintal 
night/ • •.. I 

• " As their otavefsation died away, my aknnsso fiu- 
wibddedibat I gov tiato to think? ihen it waa i b^6ame 
itiifWrtibl6, wtth -$1 miflBty of which I never oould har^ 
fitftaiiid''^y Idea hefiiie. My «tfe^ pressed <Mt my heart 
Mi'a'p«i>{iMtial «itf no nAer^TOekooing coidd «qpiate, ^mi 
ri^t^Wlffhti'mdity of 'Ood could nevttrraaoh me nnleal 
I scdffeiiid <lie pettfrky df death dne to^iaf einiM. Often, 
when 'I^atidei«d' oat on teiznld Bio6r9, have I thrown 
mytiaf am thd' gronndte heseeeb th» Almighty to ta&e my 
ife ; ^^"Wh^ri I hlmie aeeti ^ f&tfM ^€nhxg danoe on 
&e ^(A;kk,'«nd'hieftrd;'tk«'niAiyiing»^«^ difltxittfMihder}''^ 
have sjHnmg forward to meet the sfedlrnta^i itt>tlietMid)^ h(^ 
IftMlli&'WdiMlftiifi accfeptli^ viteCb^ * Otkxi didl te^ve 
^'thM^ihfk^' ]Atb Ae handaor'jnstk!o,bQflSie sight o# 
niy-i^r^ alwayft utnnttahed me> and at length I'Mbthed! 
^b^»X^ Hitie by tesolving to do it ai^ endiof one y^', 
if'/if #l9ite fiMiUe 1 001^ live ao long. I thfen* hedaa^ 
y/kf^f'iSiA* INnihtod with a thousand vain feaxa ( I eduki 
ODCitnm^tto^ towantthe bioftewhen Anali htadheea 
laid ; the sound of wheels reminded me o^ 1^ waggon ; 
thdicJN^adiitig^Utep^ sign told mo that thei«I«hMU^fa» 

tMM aOOt» ON TB9 MOOAS. I?i5 

tf^wBomm for an lMHr>.iiopbn«I tSkftmimjuiiSio ooMe 
tem Ma^ the yprtwil fonmr I hur^ «> dfMdfiilLy 
Mrasd* 8aiM«ili«amy p«doas4lii2dlMiiforaain^iao» 
wwnti hagailed ■» mto the platgwre »f » paicptf " ^ 
> XIm iinhiiniw ajiA firhiiffliod man ooaiDd to noiik* wdA 
his auditors, strack with severe honor at the dieadftil' Mv- 
fativ« of thfl maidaner* yet deeply .44betod willi the nd 
e9iidHkmoflh0p«Biteiit» irare.fikiNtako. Atileogth the 
Re«toE* who wM a maa. stricken in .ye«i% aaddeeply 
afiectedr aiea^te the pinpoei of a^ipioadiiiig s^moto. the 

hemqi to'hiin.iiith the mow «flbct» Tbe>po(r4nan>mi8<' 
teok his jwcpeaa* aad,.j^ atvioieiit e0ivi«piaftg ^^ 
$JMtf,i and itow JbuA^^ fmIii^ f«,the A)Qr»: ^^mclwivr 
Vlg» ,«t TakoflM^rorenmd w.; „Ih^i<^ ?o«i>^)^ »e— 
tiy nifir^fifflMfRtofl ipoi'tQ 4MI^^ ^*iai a.xoM^c^ ^ I 
qfaaigl^ y(9ii» ;f^ A;]pi|^flta)r f^M^hffi^ m a w«M^i^9^<NiC tim 
lilo4» ^yim^1^v^mJDfu"f . .. . ,,. 

. JnfF9^4i||«fP0^an4^ei^»]hfti(9i|» tha^a^ 
Hvrfivr hi%,an9»iajB9iind.hip»^^fand hlkedhui^ ^ f^«I^ 
^niffr^hlbk into his shfwr* a% in a |n9iimkici»'VQM» ha M^r 
", ^,ain M>t. yQ^.^Klga ; '' andiwonid ha?^ prpee^de^ fanft 
t^^mmtwnmi^ oC the invafid waa< i^oiMrciBoie niM and 
]^tlmM9re» aiuH maieitfQJMagHv, Imm^vmi^ 
**r Ah I jast ffo 4iiMi h«aiEthe«|/agiiniit,n]^hraastrr'.oae» 

7T0Bl^,aPU)9<* , IT .'.',. < ( J . I's !i k' 

HjAgisMfft't^ MemidJo shuha tha. to)datU«i^afrthtf 


hearts l^q\ir,^ii,gj«ayfii f(9CTlbAt.iv7«teM*i(iiU^)wbibiL'Ah^ 
could scarcely yet believe to be iKwnimwl > A^m . the voe*4 
worn tenement before them^ 

Let us for a mom^t contemplate this tenible and 
afflicting spectacle. Is. it not a " fearful thing to fall into 
the hands of the living Qod" as a *' God of yengeance ? " 
Is it not necessarf that we should continually study the 
precept, '* Be ye^ax^^ ap4 9^ not ; '•' and that, day by 
day, in humility and prayer, we should seek for the at* 
tainment of that spirit which " beareth all things," even 
the " re^]piM)h (^.;the fi^icJMl" '^ua^ whiohi by^ " a: mild 
answer, tumeth away ^v«ah1;"-.'TjMA^iiitH«onfy can 
bestow who e2;i^|lit^.i|^^|9o$ttfle«$^t■«wa9^ ill that 
" when he was zevi|ed„4JlM9^^iejir)l«|i.i>oi)«gfLi0 " - 

The widow of this unhappy man survived but a few 
months, and the duldff^o^wexi^taMt^.^'IIB^dyspB.tO^i dis- 
^t home, so that I hav^ pygi^qiwiedgl^fff'^wt^ut besame of 
little Maiy» that child qf,.«a% VK^fmm,, <For.iaeiiieKai»yearg 
^ house was eittto^upteiftani^ or lp1i»4.li9^*MdAng inha- 
bitant 'y for fearful wlui^rs and heart>appalling meoEiorials 
rsndered it a melancholy abode* JScvn last aumanr, as 
I passed it in my wa^^* to Ms^ftxk, the appeanance of 
desolation prevailed as I remember it in ray youllii^ The 
sign-post had £aUQiVt the,, garden was a wildevoeas, the 

All SriTAFB. ^ 177 

oooiB tnd feii06§ W8tt to tuiiiy grMn mon tmpt ow tikt 
damp itMM waUt» and graw hixaiiantiy on the creatof dn 
furnm of Athiil vludi fnmioiinta tlie entrance : all around 
remed the menuny of Ihiii nd itoiy, and atamped upon 
thiamelaae h ol y ecene aehafader, like tint plaoed on the 
blow of the am nnirderar. 


STRAMOBB^-'whoe'er then aft— draw'nigh, 
Floretta weH deaervei a righ ; 
For hen wetegiftiof heart and mindt 
We rarely meet nilh in vnnkind : 

Nor blnah to know a do^ fies here — 
Gratefiily aActeonatef ainoefe i 
Continaingfaidiftd to the end» 
A gende, hnmble, oonttant ranKo f 

Untntored in (he school of art, 
In life, full wen she played her part ; 
Now, Stranger, seaif thyself, and see, 
Can this wkh truth be said of thee 1 

8. E. F. 



Unheeded by the careless eye 
The dial's shadow hastens on ; 

Even tho' the dark clouds canopy 
The ever-shining sun. 

So God's great purposes advance { 
So Truth her forward progress keeps, 

When man's imporfeet, heedlesfi glance^ 
Deems that she tires or sleeps. 

Behind the mists, with quenchless ray, 
The great light-giver moves serene } 

And millions bless the oi:1^ of day. 
While to our view unseen. 

He never fails — in love and might 
He rises, glorious as he rose 

When first he bathed the world in light ; 
And blesses as he goes. 


BY L. A. H. 

They rdled above me, the wild waves — 

The broken mast I grappled yet ; 
My fellow-men had found their graves. 

On me another sun had set. 
But, merciless, the ocean still 

Da^'d me, then calmly roimd me lay, 
To wake another hunMtn thrill. 

As tyrants torture ere they slay. 
B^t when the foaming breakers mshM, 

And passed o'er me, or bore me high, 
Then into circling eddies gush'd, 

I struggled — yet I knew not why ; 
It was not hope that bade me cling 
Still to that only earthly thing, 
I knew not then his mercy gave 
To keep me levd with the wave. 
The tempest, when the day was gone, 
More fiercely with the night came on » 

^8t> VMS MlFV^KClLkD. 

But, howfing^'firiOft trtdtai stt, 

GavB nMer iMpe Mritetirinft ; 

Despair had nuulrnv teaneiny lkl»,^^ 

To die— thus lOQaiftaddatQiito.' 

I law anotbv aflningf inn* 

But yet qy M|tiq^ j i>w &ii d l du M r^^ ^ ■ ' 

A paaring Wtow wtftad &an 

A comrade's bK^ to njrwb, ; 
Who, lately, wiUi hiaJBUowHaen* 

Had tMravely stBBHnaitlwdarinig tide*^ 
His calm cheelLaad haffHSj^ eye 
Betokened tb«tr4i|ilgan^ • 
His vpnt had p0t.M. him^^he ■ . . i : 
Seemed aii£rsfafD||mq9<oikjtlieae«. 
I calmly gazed, Mfi^timit dread, '. 
Upon the ^j^jofiki^^^ ; 
But when his c(d4Mii4laft«Makigr cheeky 
My voice cam^|iqi» tMslnJi.ibaikfi. 
At mine owu Tfi»(BQX|yuiid«aiDmid« 
'Twas sp,ual^,»4t miMip'j;Q w nd >^. 
But on the wateis none were near. 
Save the corpse uppB^ its w^teiy bier, . ,^. . , f 
And hungry birds that hoYCired nigi\* . . . .« , 
Screaming his sole funerefd <^. 

My sum of .human p^u^^o fill,- "* 

There .cji|ne ^ pahn?^ popa 4aftli^i^F-still, - 
Because its sullen jij^ygfi hirwigtit . ^ .c .v' 
A dttU repose i^,w^kt^^1^timf^ - -t- *' 

TBB MIPmiBOni). 

How my limbtqwyenid^ w^is «* 
By gome lea» genflt fawBBB WM alii u rf , ' 
As if I nay noBMBt hMTii 
The ocean moinjew fBUoir-me ! 
Then came the tan in all hk might) 
To mock me with hm iMwnKliy heights . 
When the wares I17 boaeath rat long, 
I felt his power gsow fiunely ttnmg 
Above me, and would often dqp 
My buQUBg hiov and patched lip, 
To cool them in the ^nBah'sing 'wr$m, ' 
Wishing the waften weie my gva^^ * 
But oft di0 aea-hnd o*^ ma4«w, 

And once it iafyod ma wiiii iti w4ag ; 
ThatlmustbtilifN^IlEMw, f- 

And smiled at agr haatt*b shhRBiteg ; 
But yei I covhl not bear ta ftaa 

Its yellowbeah, or hear Hi ery 
Telling me what i san murt be* <*- 

I moaned, and wapk^ and fiBared to die. 

And as dw dull wtve gre# ntoFe chill, 
The eveBBg bt«eae became mofe still, 
And, breathing o*er the awM deep. 
Had lulled me, and I longed to sleep : 
My senses slept, aay head bowed low. 

The waters s^laahed beneath, then broke. 
Suddenly o'a «ly addng'lfniw, 

Widi a coBndttve Mtftl'^v^ACfet 


And, waking, felt them o'er me float. 
While giugUsg in my parched throat. 

Where'er I drifted with the tide, 
My comrade's ooipse was by my side. 
Still to the bioken mast I chug. 
At times aside the waves I flung, 
AU day I struggled hard $ hat wh«i 
Another and another came. 
Weaker and weakac grew my frame,-^ 
I deemed that. I was i^ing then* 
My head fell on the wave once more, 
And reason left me •^ all seemed o'er ; 
Yet something I remember now — 

I knew I gazed upon the q^y. 
And felt the breeze pass o'er my brow. 

Along the unbroken- sea to die ^ 
And, half with. iaint(^ess» half with dvead^ 
The spirit that sustained me fled. 

There was an eye that watch'd me then — 
An ear that heard my freqiient prayer ; 

And God, who trod the unyielding waie. 
When human efforts all were vain, 

Ere the death-struggle, came to save. 
And called me back to life again. 

I thought that I was yielding life. 
To perish in that mortal strife. 


And calmly lay along the sea. 
That soon would calmly pass o'er me ; 
But my clench'd teeth together met. 
As if with death I struggled yet — » 
Then I was stemming it once mare > 

And then again the sea-bird's ciy 
Was mingling with the billows* roar. 

As I laid down my head to die. 

Eetuming reaaon came at last. 

And bade retailing hope appear : 
That remnant of the broken mast, 

And my dead comrade-«bo& were near ; 
Not floating o'er the billows now. 

For they had drifted us to land*^ 
And I was saved— I knew not how-— 

But felt that an Almighty hand 
Had chased the waters from the strand. 

Beside the corpse, and by the wave, 
I kneh, and murmured praise to Him, 

Who, in the fearful trial, gave 
Strength to the spirit and the limb ! 

i-'Ki: I 


Few amongst dM leeoUeetions of my earlier yean aie 
cherifllMd with a fonder Kgtad tkaa thoae coimeeledi wilb 
the retireratot ot my graad&tber (torn the sacred duties 
of a proleisioa to nHiieh he had devoted himself *' mind, 
bodyi and relate/' fit ttA hatf » «eatttiyv Hia parish, 
neither exte&sif« or weidthy» embnced withia ita lintits no 
naraerotts popafauion') he thevelSMie had not htUMsto availed 
himself of a eurate'aieervioes': but when it beoame ni- 
moiited thtttheiiitetidedtv]iioetts&thissp((eieftof aid, no 
surprise was excited^ for though not decrepit, hs was 
strickoi in yeam '£ai4y ia the week it was announced 
that the ** yoimp^levgymali" wouM^ffiomfld on the fol- 
lowing 9nn()ayt No one imagmed ihat the vcftentble 
Rector would preach vpra that oGcasian, still less that he 
would d^ter hiii Ferew^ Sermon $ yet these who knew 
him, and had opportunities of observation, oouM see that 
he' Wto affected by emotions fs!r beyond what the appamt 
change in his circumstances might be supposed to ooeasioa. 
At intervals during the wei& there would appear in his 
gait'a btioyasey t as h&Sbepped along, he woukl strike his 
cane Against the groand with an air of aiiooess and resohi 


tkm, ytm would be at a loss to My whedMr lie had coa- 
quered adifficultf, or ilialbBii off a bvideiu His denear 
nour frequently saggerted to my mind, that elation and 
trhimph wMoh we may flrappoae an implicit believer in the 
iniiELllibifit]^ W .abie|«lioii pn ^Ofpfiffffs^, f^ relieved 
from the onefous mponsbility of " manifold aini and 
fawngieMkms/' This, however, was but one aide of the 
pictufe; its reverse was quite as frequently presented. 
Thepsthe^eld maiaiBiaghl<.be<e0SBi.:siairi( lin itfaeb to ii toofl t 

MMlafttMy.^ TWfteat«ODUtfli^ 

eyev 'esj^eeiaUy wfaeM«ieriil$*f;lHM» hf4ip«)e^4ftjWM)inliir 

nm «' oftiilM.yeiiaglii^io&lhi« Aosk^'or ;(liiMHm.>eoame 
jMUtnt^ lkatil<hihwe»a.tb)IMteteted;.4lil*«s<MAlh;aj«sr 

«Up*« ilm\Ul^ >moM ijf^itmimiA \nsoyfimvW(C9M.^mk, 

ler iMphmU'thftt. iNmftf M W W jpa d tAipmflln^illw ViWi of 

Sundiiy eavi^ ^:i:;h* foflio^y ^pm. Iftt i^iil^tiF i^i9^^ 
lMm,.tfi%op|iiB^i^«s^vjdi%i^;,fii|(d^ie(4^^ usi»Hy,,W^. 

afullif TifailTiii anddMi dflsmatn tunnfliii and «"*«****^^"- bore 

ntT iJTflUnt MUteSfT- to ***^^«— *^ifc*^«f-W umftn A«is|AQra. The 

T«»d.nwai. iwviM-'^^^'ftbm 4uwi«w^,iWfecifiafT,byni*e 
iiegidav ebiutb«9o#if».biil k^ mmiiH^imisamik^J^^^ 
mmtmtnMmt ei the.nwn.iit OsjAjomUiOHliXrial^^ 
imbBc < i wsliip « T^^,^m,ipmtfj^^i^mi'mmi9i°fPJ^' 
^•i«tt,.wi».a yg»f .mm f^tojji \wftn y yte jrarf faffi a 

oonditinn ^^««Mad.ter«eat<g<)dlf«bii1j94t|i^Sa^ ^We 

a a 

1M ti»'.r4fts»Bix muniir. 

and nmnjilBTsW isDoe«iio»'lmd bocdAxdMB^^foirjllM 
soeaoof diiknflMBiuLiif osiDfl^to'iiyliidh UieftjooHui^ispirit 
•anA.Birta^piiw of hJtmiafihaiid imtbeaapeiyrtaii^ ;ltwi» 

stnos'O^'oatrt^ ^wpd &QBkrrfrQ€ ]MimiHb«^i p6rb»iKlbat 4^ 
nigfair Vefom >eime feekiof /firoter^cods pf ideipiSRi^oii .«4 

* ">£feiifiifeA^aBd '^VbtttlatrTuiivn^thtreiipjwkttxte^lliai tkMa . 
wtoralpnusbt md ; but i^\m^mt» pf«^riiMbfiiliPVW»'" . lE]^ 
wdtstrof ialrffl^cd»>bi«9«itK)taflui«|4«0&M^ keep . 

hani ttThft ttmpyary- ( «»o |iM li lbeikA|gR(t«ttj9gtbi» iMtait 
mtoiifetteiMtkwmaBMrQft' ii»«lnki|A# a$»il»diA|B»ii|Mfii^bi- 
ta«llmodeacp£ittBli])9<wbaiQh «ten440rin|i)Hi«^ M/cbmno- 
tef ;' Irvti iidweiitrind«|Rviiim>ii>Ue{8h>iP€i,;<ff jpaMs9iJiS»r • 
dUtoMrfr mvf (iMnrifstnigiM'itbft.bettn! t^mkmu v^^i m ^\( 

Hi|^, li^]Midaoiar.4»ntaiidQi.iig«iNttb«9^^ 



/Jlheiittxt-tekttliM ttti'»t# wyfafby iiwifiij Wf— Ihi 

ladfia^fl^aidiioi^itaAarilU wtynaiy tcottrtiwiw/Tbtgaa m 

•iy$imi$'dkitfffmata** tod liev'to^iiktisipiteb . Hei'wai a 
b«efael«r-^(ltlt«lNfhMNMMtiiMA: hft%r«0«g«i<fatnn^ 

DIM af a<jiMdiilto^{Mtitf«*'lhittUbB «vtt»«KiigidBe*eDo«||b.te' 

tilMl4iigi<i>dg»'qfk,-citliMf€ofivwtrir« imin iii wd iiifiwip* 
pQgwywM^^p cnqwialttttoii ilwfcittiay <il«iri»dUl i E^taolfaal 
he* ■Mgfa<i»|;o?the'tettgftk oe>lB]t»iyd litod^at^iiteiiap^pMrt . 

mil4Ai/MiUdtttd«>4MMad idij^wwiiiiMuBb'paMftiMA'te^dni 
hei8i'<ldledi'' fttrtiM.' > C)N«H) itti9iiii>ll»> vabnlait lOmt 

cal«ti4ittto for «iiy' ntutfe> «lnBi>l^HaM4%*^lte|jiMaf«c 
ihon,<^it ttlWt Iw iMllnitltdoAoall'Mlibl^ 
weU~oocaiknMtty t» llrdifiglvt «f*li»9«uiig^^«adolli»H 

cAHciiltidn of the dMlT'M, after 4lF, he h$b A n^ottdb^us 
€SfXAMg way «f iitteHaibl^' begttiliog his -atm^aaitfkti tsf 

dieerfiilfiesi) to^Mflbjitots ibr^%hk!h we n^gHt reotou&ihif 
mppose 'Stmday wair ail^fikfieBt. It n^iM gf4i^e «ie'«r 
Ae heart if -any dtctmuita&cti sfaodd ^e^rive'tiK -of hid 
genial'-p^eBence'; ' All I twmldbope, hr, #MLt « yiwag e i 
itAd a gayer t&'e|)liet«l'lnli^ Mnse to ttld his dtocMAitt^ y^sahf 
hi ilievitre of Kfibtik'wtec^hlspiiiteRUaMi^^ 
tidtett; htt^^'d^sidynMBMie lOtotKdHaitiy^religtcm^pieiiittpS 
^'tigflJtediM o^eMtt^ :^'> i[t l«asir«o'k ^uppi^f^ia'fAf 

IMMse;'thKy6M<iirthJtfSWngj;het(i^/'^ Iftdtigft 

^^ive tr«s|iaiM WfiSrtt^'^eAi^^lShilfj^si' ^s'io ^ib My 
t6ti^^-thUf4ib^to!ift;y«^'i^'^i<>t fiHft^iti^'^sjmtiitbe sueh'^ 
riirtiflHutith^pteMhdii'iJftty'iflpoil^e t«Wi)»', 

iiigh'i^ei&ttM'tenil^'^r'i^Bl^hl^ ttf''4ii(raM%Mto«<ttf 'ou^ 
^0/ alfei^all,^te%tit a'tti»i«L«' "' »j^'^'» •'' ''*''* 

i^itrlt/iihittetlbt^ J^tif^'Mr' ''^rhk^ 

^atf ^gtdHjriO the eMtfge of l^eatdtirin^ t» Viiidi^ttJ^ISHk 

-''< B^M^KfeMi dddhtleilti^' ^ifid hi#«MiCher, " atfA'tOl^li 
iSb^fi^qiM^ the%M9^f ^tm Hie fiMte^. ' ' BesMe^'ilMft 
Vi^^ ^'pa*6«d;iiiy''"diiit df eeilidli^ 'tt^'tl^iiieMt 


rmi I beg to mbvkk" h» lefUM, ''.that I wm 
iifily pleading guilty to a clu^gs of youii — acknow* 
leidguig » g^t ia which I gloiy* Of aU csratod beingSj 
ik is tolhat venwaUe old man 1 oive thft most unioeaattzed 
graitituclo* The influonoe of violont fAanona, evil a^so- 
ciatos> and* iboie thaoi aU, reading, ill-digestod and ine^ 
golar]^ {rarsned, bioiight me not merely to the brinkj bitt 
plunged me into the gylf of deism. I was without hope 
or succour : the daikoeia of death was npon me. I had 
no prinoiple of action* no bond, .of affeption, no hope of 
iewai4« The past histoiy of man lyas a chaos-r— a, pro* 
hlem, incapable of solution* The tlv«ad of vo^ fotnra 
life, though spun out to thiee^soqre 3feai9, f hiuoJt .into a 
brief span; an4 even that tk wa«to» .« bl$vnk, a deseit^ 
presenting no piofitable aim». psompting to no consiston^ 
purpqse; wlule the diead unreyeal^ etocwty.i^iggesfe4 
nought but the deaiie of annihilatioii <-<- instant annihilation^ 
both of body and of soul. Fxom this temporal perdition, 
the sme forwu^»ar^ .^^ype, > and eam^ ^f that which was 
to come,! did our. fevered pastor xeseue ^ne» whp^ though 
unworthy, will never be ungraleiul^ thence did he, rescue 
p». J ,I^y after- day, and far into the long nig^ h^Kve we 
.(fft planed onf - iixvesiaga^onii. Those. w)m> ., have, i^fsver 
4 9!>^> M * . ^fyfsti' into whom t^. demon of- w?ejitiffsin has 
never ^tered, can form not eiven a fi^^t.coi^cepti^n of.Jthe 
l^^iEnil^, the.daxtori^, and tha swee^, psrauaj^^ with 
winch her** that ma^ehless instrument of Ojijirine J^qw^-*- 
4^, as thoqgfa he ^tnelded Ithuriel's spcj^, to>icb aiyl,pftt 
to ^instant rout ' tiie whole pride, strength, andq^Dnum- 


Stance' of infidelity. Me did he tescue, after weeks ^nd 
months of unpromising toll :• me did he feconcile to an 
offended Creator — furnish with an infkllitde rale of morals 
•—'Supply with the means of enjoying every legidraate 
wmree of earthly hai^iAese, and of d^pising eveiy earthly 
injury: into my existence did he infuse that idvifying 
spirit which converts fife from a penalty into a boon, by 
disclosing that bright hereafter, without which time is a 
blank and eternity a terror/' 

'* AH that, my dear George, is very eloquent and beau- 
tSfbl ; and I am sure I am quite flighted tiiat you have 
ciit those nasty cr6atures'whom I have beard you speak of, 
Hmne, and Hobbes, and Bayle, and Voltaire ; and that 
you do not even associate with them in London, much 
less bring them to vUit us here in the country, as I once 
feared you might, when you lived so entirely amoi^t 
that set." 

Though not far from the sea-side, tiie parish is filled 
chiefiy with an agiicultuial popolatioh, and the district 
iinmedi&tely adjoining the church has an air peculiarly 
mral and primitive, of which th6 aspect bf the sacred 
edifice itself fully partakes. It is built on what was once 
the mte (A an tLbbey,-** a stAsM peninsula, stretching abotit 
ft quaiter'of a mile iiito one of the most limpH Sheets of 
water that perhaps th^ island of Great Britain contaTels. 
To the southward, the gie&V breadth of the lake ektend^'; 
while Id the north, a lianbwer expaiise of water 'bpen^, 
terUiiMitttf by thd base of a mountain, whose triple doco- 


Tntkni of wood and heath aad snow, givea to the scene 

'* more than painter't fancy e'er embodied," The little 

pomnsulaf adoroed. not shaded, by wood» ccM^tains no 

edifice but " the houae of God '" not a sheepfold, not 

oi^ stone is laid upon another, with the exception of its 

grey and ancient walls. On this spot, the loudaeis with 

wbicb the leaves lustle, imparts a sense of soUtude ; but 

it is to the distinctness with which every ripple of the lake 

is beaid as it breaks upea the pebbly shore, thait we owe. 

our f^UL perception of the quiet and Beclusion which ahnost 

give a hoUneis to the ^eene. It ^s hercj theii, on Hm. 

fiftieth aai^ivenaiy of his induction, one of the. m«^t ptctDS. 

me^ that ever adooaed the Christian faith in, '\\» high and 

palmy housB, or ever >laid .down life amidst its maf^yrdpma^ 

ascend^, for the last time, pulpit ^teps well wpm bj his 

tread, and aftef a service of most, touching solemnity, 

terminated those toils which had been the joy ai^d the 

business of his ezistenoe* In that venerated fane, around 

vjrhich th^ companioAik of his youth lay buried, and within 

which the j^iotei^s of his green old age were assembled,-^ 

there, amidst nature'^ loveliest and grandest features, he 

bade farewell fw ever to all that ciOuUl interest him.oA. 


It was not alone that thecontgrogation was ipoi^ AUr 
meraus than usual \ but from the moment it became, 
evident that the Rectoi^ had riseo to preach his last ser- 
mon, the dCTueanour, countenances I .h^ almost sai^.th^ 
cju^racter, of every one present appeared to undeiigo al^- 
ation ; even the children seemed, as it were by ^ymp]|th}U 

un ins vAiiB#Bi«L wmcoK; 

to oompvehend thai lOinmhmg deeply afbotiqg- wis in 
piogieis. The Eit-Iadifc Diieeliof who ** niraliaed" with 
ui that teaaon, lebnqaished his htbdomadal ni^ -The 
idle lintloMiwiii and affeeta^oa ui nonehalaaoe which 
maiked our viUage dandies ditapjpe^red. I wiU not be 
quite certain that our coqMMee gave up the fipeqnont in- 
qpectioB aad qmaikniel adjustment of their iinerieB ; bat 
sure I am that the QiAy beantf in the parish was the most 
devoted listener in the church ; however, the lees on that 
topic the better. I>ttlnees was raased into apprehension, 
and the light^hesrtednees of youth eobdned into tender 
melancholy, — the toipor of age wanned ibIo ffithMJasm, 
and insensibility itself excited to emotioii»-«as the gentle 
and pathetic accents of the me^ old man ^lecfteathed to 
his successor the guardianship of his spiritual children. 
Of the half<<efonaed siuier,^— of the entirely sepnibate 
outcast, <— of the penitent believer, and the yet uneonvinoed 
infidel, --»of the fonndnt wlio piaelieally ledneed hio reli- 
gioB to cold cereoionials, aad the enthusiast who limited 
vital Christianity to a c o ntes ip t of eveiy pa^paMa i^iear* 
vaace ;— these were at once die weeds and the flowem 
ila that field which he left for the cultivation of fiwh 
energies, and the reward of youthful enterpiise. "And 
ntwer,'' contvaued the baievolent patriarch, ad dressin g 
his Aelv associate, "never let the stricken deer be- ever- 
looked ; pour oil into the wounds of tiie spbit When 
sharp ssKctionB have . turned the pro e cnt aad tha fatam 
intodesertdiaariiiem,nnclasp' the back of life,' aad re- 
vivily the ei|Nriog soul." 


A uMffBiuiiB^ vesponw told how often hn aita himftlf 
been theft ministering engel o€ eoosolation iriiidi hii fen- 
guage flo UaaAy ihedafwed forth. ) 

In itiMHe <rf whii^ ny leBftniwceDcee cs& gife no wle* 
queie poitmitaTe, did hie eih«rtition pvoeeed. When he 
eemetoepeefc of the dineluttoft of tiioee tiet^vvlBdi hed 
hound him to hie coogfegetion for fiftjryMn» the ewe* 
iaqpnng chaarter «f hit elocution dbeppeaMd. - The 
voioethai <«ceiihl tenify one uvU ^vWi thethonden of 
aDotfMTf'' tvas hnf and tienrahMH* The ^<fffffi » # id o 'g 
iroMnhb pwienoc, inellnet with htkf focvoor, b eneath 
wheeea a netioii vwtne weald emh, benetth whoee foawn 
fioa oank in hamlKalatn-^afl had depaited — aD had 
jriflUedftee towoaaaaiih teadetneis* '< I have livad,'' 
aaid ha, " to eee the wmfc, ef whiah I was a haaiUa in- 
atrament, oompletep in ahnoiione pwfeet lenii. I have 
fived to see one geneiation pass awi^ of thoee oonunkled 
to mf dn^-^cidled into the pvesenee of the nnhnown 
G«d in a state, I wonid fondh^ hope, of repentance and 
lageneiation ; and with, shane and hnmiliatlon I oonfoss, 
that poor, eiring hanum nataie makes me part, with a 
pang of bitter rehictanoe, firam tiie yet naooBBpletod task 
of pB^Miing for the weiid that is to oome, tfaeoe by whom 
the folds of my ^departed sfae^ aie now fitted ; but, alas f 
it cannot be, and I am cvlpaUe in repining. The last 
metoncholy exercise of my sacred trast, is to nse the 
limited inflaenoe I possess, that he who is to walk in my 
traiees> with, itmfky be hoped> a moae poweM tread, will 
the seed which I have been bJCBsed with pemrissien 


townir; uplift thaw U ka to ngr Mi&iair jn* <^ 
aiaio«8» Iratt I iRiit. not te bopteft tiik el.ofong vp^ 
day and nigfati prayers to the thiono of tlie ' lAott Higb,' 
that in gpon mbs may be fingnai and p«uieni»BOceptBd ; 
t^t the grey hain ol theoii naay not be bfongfat^dDiiiR 
with mhow to the* gmve^ or the young snatched off in the 
ftibep8>of iaiqaity. I am no loogier eapebleef the hig^ 
and sacred dntioi which it has been the pleatasaef 
Hearven to pwnit ate to eaaroM ibr ae k»g/a period* I 
cannot oomnit the crime dJiolding a rtation» for wHich i 
am unfit. Total and complele ia my rriiaqnishmeBt eC 
aUthet i^ipeitainft toit. Mey diehe^ing faefan olieKgiea 
newer depart Cram youx * sojourn «a tibia vallay of .teasa)' 
and mi^ the fulness of ita blessings be shoiwered'oai yo«, 
wktn temporal probaliona have passed away, and the 
eternal destinataonof man. has eoenMooed. My beloved 
itieoda> fiBtewellfore^wfi" ' 

By a £nn. eflbrthei mestemd Jiia laelings, conchided 
mth the useal prayen, dewoeiided flaaa the p«lpit» mtimd 
to the vestiy> and walked out ef the ehsmh quite in hia 
accuBtomel mannarj but he had.acamely gotten, beyond 
the poich» when hia emotiona found. vent like. an. in^o* 
sooed tonent, and he wept and aohbed even aa a child. 
We all gathered round him, and kneeling in the open air, 
received his last benedictioiir deliveied with a pathos of 
which no art can contv^ an. adequate impresaion. 

Almost insiently the voice of remonstrance waa raised. 
** Why should he think of going .awayl It was veiy 
well to have the young genrieman to visit the sidt in the 

THB FABXWELL IEftll<m. 195 

liftg ivinier mglits, to bsptixa the children, and frequently 
ta<preieh ; botwhsthaii they done, that Ae Rector should 
go away^t" 

"My dearchUdten/' he replied, '< I go not fhnn you, 
until Oody n hia own good tune, niall aunmon ne to 
ai longv>protracted led^eoiiig. By ceaaing to be' your 
pastor, I become more completely than eter one of your- 

Afanoat by magic, emilea aucceeded to temu ; and as 
** the^joy in heaven is gieater over one sinner th^' repent- 
ed,*' 80 die reoef eiy, as it were, of him whom they bought 
loat, was to tiiem a source of greater ddight, than if the 
conacioulinaBS 'of enjoying his presence had never been 

" 1 shall rtt o^BWi/* -iald he^ *' not conthme at the 
tectoiy ; iMt I slittt WMhi w tk^ftoMk*" 

We nurrod homewuds. WithMt concert, and tilmost 
invBtaatavilyy Hmt wliole c t n g iHgation AMttied a sort of 
prooeonon, liMt waMsd M 'hSm^ hte dwelling, as if to 
pMbnc^tte-esQOj'Menl'ihtt Iiib pfesekice diffused, and to 
obtaitt«idaen*«dpM|ges of his intention 'ftifl'tiyA^nn cue of 
their little connnkiidty* 

D. C. R. 


That had ipvead llaelf orer a litde Onxtto of the Waten. 

How gnteAd the Mums ! — a throb or a flower. 
Or a tree that has liaen in some daifc» ahady bower. 
O'er the head of the poet, stSl grows in his lays. 
Waves its breaches around, and partakes of his praise i 
The oak and the laniel havehvng been a theme. 
And the willow that weeps with its head o'er the stream, 
Thioogfa the walks of aeatioa each baid has his tree. 
But the Bramble, I trust, is reserved for me. 

Thou low, creeping plant, I*m unable to tell 
With what pleasure I see thee crawl over my cell I 
And thou put'st forth the tendrils so slender and long. 
And thou openest thy roses the gieen leaves among. 
And the grass underneath is so tender and green. 
That a covering more lovely could haidly be seen. 


Then condirae each year thus to give thy sweet shade. 

Thy favoun will still be with kindness lepaid ; 

I will watch thy iint shoots, and will tend thee with 

As something, kind Bramble ! that's lovely and rare ; 
And thou fruit-bearing shrub, I will call thee my vine 
And my grapes — the^ shall be these dark clusters of 


«. I : 

• . , ' A , 'f '',;««.' • 

1 • 

' '■ .', J'. .< I..' . . > ' .1* • 't I'i' I" /• • ' /• / 

• ' '^J- -t' cf ' ' ' > • • " •' " ' ' '' 

^« -y ill .-^ i K" •:a' ,1 'Ml' * •>< " ' 

'•.')'«'» 7* ;i-j .«i .»j' 

I ' • 'i - • .'j "t I »/ »! 

. #'■'•■ '1 , > ♦ 

. ' - '.'•..'• '. .' 'I. ' 

s 2 

f ■» 


- i.",;Oi'.' i />'''.' ' ' III !' ' 

Tender, «iiae«iliig;"«»'«iiVi=^'' •'• ""•'* ^ ' ''' 
E'en fondness Iflt^^'md^Ei^^Y' 
She may foiget her suckling's cry, — 
His ear attends liU^ftMMi n^.- * - 

On him thy^lttii^'teftsi; 
By care «M'*il^iM'i9^^, 

fiiwti «>tiie^ftfeg« d]«^etrV 
And earth, with all its joys and fears. 
Hath ceased to bring or smiles or tears. 

THirBUIID. 199 

Morn't dew-enamelled flowen, 

The ckmd duoogh azure fweeping. 
Their hrigfatnew owe to ndder hoon. 
Their calm to itonna and weeping ;— 
That Friend aball thaa each tear illwne — 
To fonna of gloiy ifaape that gloom* 

Eve's npphire doud hath been 
Daik as the brow of aoRow ; 
Thoie dew-pearls wreatiied in emefald gieen» 
Once wept a oonmg monow ; 
But gloiy wptadff^o^ki earth and' sky » 
And all wu fig^t and ecstacy. 

Yon star upotx the trow 

Of night's grey coronet, 
Man's radiant; UffM^ ^^V^tfvWp 
Had yon bii^ aiva^n^'er seftrrrr.. 
Were hidden stiK%iv^xt4.figt||» 
Lo8tinimpenefa3a4fi%^^. ^.,. ., _ , 

, ; ">„ t 

t> •- 

Then mImwiM afflictions xaeme* 
Daik as the shroud of even, 
A thousand glories gutter Ciom . 
The burning aA^h oC.heavfiB I >. /,i 
Though earth be wxa^ in dimbl and gkiOBii! 
New splendottis dawa o'er di^light's tapsb* 

9CX> nKrBiKRD* 

And who that aim hvng 

Widi lamps of lifving iira t 
Who, whmk the hoalt of Boonuni^ WDg» 
F int liataiMd to tiuir qobe t «— 
TheMaaoffoqmpfi^neffjNi^rr- < ' 
In heaven the God ! -*th' Omnipotent ! 

Hb i« that InaA, >*UiMr Itfm 

Nor life ner death shall seier ; 
£lBnialas>«ithMHralMM^' - 

Unchanged, en dmesfor ewg;. 
What wookiM tfaos aaoie, £rail fiOne of Ihe dust - 

Omnipotenoff thyftmay ■■*MiiyJtiie 6h«"»i nKpaT ! 

. * 1 f ,' 1 . , . ,- - , ,• ,1 

. •«.(•' it.,.,' • t -• •'' " •'•"•' • * ♦ 

. ■ . ♦ ^ • • . , ' ' '. ' " .•■■■» 

•/-;.■■.••• „..,,,-. •■• » 

• • / • •!. «^ ■• . • • • ■ 
1 •< I . • 

... •• * 

• ••• 


BY MA»V hMAimHAVWrn** 

F9W awie the Tina* thai ft«m Tkw jrattw^ 
Few prise the wmrtti that every moment aeee; 

We mark tibe tempeet'f rage* tiie oomef f firee, 
Focget the ihowerf the •onahine* and the breeae. 

Wm. Smyth. 


Therb is/' (thoB writes one of my ingenioas yoang 
friends,)— "there is a magic enthusiasm in great and 
•zatoed acts of virtue, that will more than oolmteibalasGe 
the weakness of the mind. The obstacle is lemoted, the 

• liiis distfaigidahed and exoeDeBt lady (a member of ttuB 
Society of Frienda) died at BaUitore, on tba S7th of Jime, IMS, 
in her OSth year, ahortly after this contribation waa received. 
She waa the dauc^ter of Mr. Richard ShacUeton, the tator of 
Biufce. Her aeveral woika, particolarly the ** Cottage Tales," 
are hi^^y admired in her native oonntry : but those alone who 
were fbrtonfte enough to e^joy her society, could appreciate 
her many Taloabie qvalitiea of mind and hewt. 


BY i 


My team hove \ 

'Mid tean I hail th( 
And wish his fated r- 
'Mid sighs I view tJi' 
And weep while silv< 
Tho* young, I*m (.■ 
I've number'd by . 

Ask ye how many tc 
Go count the stars al 
How many sighs Tw 
Count ye the sands i: 
Since hours, and d 
I've number'd by ; 

When shaU I quit th 
And sink within the , 
Methinks I hear my 
'* When all thy sins 
Then mournful let 
Numb'ring each iii 

xtku. Hk two aoM, iriio w«n In 
one lAer inotbcr, tickenedoreon' 
nnnir cune to their hlher'i home 
ider •ttentioQ* of (heir gtep-niother, 
W wM now Ihfl oolj rarriving cblH 
her rich relttioiii jmuDg Fann; wu 
■pent mneli of her time with them. 
in dngingr. duping, ind dressing ; 
imHfied ftotn paying due regatd to 
DOS and more niitsble (or her. She 
I of t jtnmg man, gay and thought- 
ftey rasrtied without conient of 
e. Tliejr had little wherewith to 
I were nmUlled in economy. With 
or prarailed upon her hiuband to 
le for a year. While thej lemained 
un ; and when they removed to a 
die Uod-heuted Eleanor auisied 
B. The young wife became con- 
oal caie wai exerted in vain. The 
Fani^ died. Her ion, taken to the 
giaodmother, was the consolation of 
e KDt him to school, instilled good 
|,riociplB into his uaai, and won his IMe heart by her 
,.n»«rirf love. His hther loved him; but having a 
■'"'-'f? a second tnartitgc, sought not todeprive Eleanor 
^' ^* ■wtkS a beaurifu! sight lo behold the 


noble act petfonudd, die ncrifioe consasuaMtecl ; ^ifttikr. 
ness and humaoitjr may now lenune iheit empires tho 
deed is done, and will rasuun a» a pnnicl moniuneat to 
the eye of admiration. Spectators will not haunt us ia 
our solitude* and piepQe , through the- obicarity in which 
we hide our weaknesses and failings ; but it is there that 
the mind finds a trial of endless exertion, palience> love* 
The man ^ho has lefieved his fellow-cieature in some 
hour of signal calamity, may wound him unprovoked fq 
his eveiy-day interoqnne ; for genllenesa is a more diffi-: 
cult as well as a more useful virtue than generosity. 7*he 
mind has too much of a divine origin not to be oecasionp 
ally capable of sublime flights — momentary flights; and 
has too much of an earthly nature not to flag and fall to 
the earth, which it had spumed for a moment." 

Perhaps we have« each of us, felt the truth of thesa 
observations, and found it less, difficult to perform an 
exalted action, than to practise that unboasting self-denial» 
which, through the prnqg l^wfs of Ae HnmPHly day» in 
the oonstaQt intwoouise with different <bvact«s aad m^ 
lious tempets, aj^.wheawwoaiweiioBsarelannidf^en 
keep the steady flame of family Jiffve «]iv«, . ft ml pi n wii^ 
that equanimity which smoptbs down as^ties, sooUiea 
disquietude^ chas^ d^ection, 9M makw ,lo*n«iow 
dieerful as t»<kiy. 

Eleanor married a widower, a man of a conviviaj 
temper, wh^ might have been attracted totfaetavaoaby 
love of company, had not the good t^per of his wife, 
and her attention to his comforts, attached him to hoine» 

wtA KMiie At- cup of iMt, ptfffdcen i^lth Iter, MpeneOs 
liM MMKlMi gfatiAflttioiis. Hit twd MMit, tvlio were in 
boihieM in tiie d^, one ftfter «notKer, udceaed of con- 
Mmptkmsi and suJeoeasimety came to their father's home 
tb experience the tender attentions of their step-mother, 
and to die. Their sister wasnow the oflly surtiving child 
of the family. With her rich relations young Fanny was 
ft ftnwarite, send she spent much of her thne with them. 
Tbey ennmn^ her in singing, dancmg, and dressing ; 
and she was tfauf (fisqnafified from paying dne regard to 
oeenpatio n s more aerions and more suitable for her. She 
a t tiiM^teil the albetions of a yoong man, gay and thought- 
less aa herwff, and they married without consent of 
parents on either side. Tliey had little wherewith to 
begin the world, and were unddlled in economy. With 
amne diffienhy Eleanor prevailed upon her husband to 
keep them in his house f<^ a year. While they remained 
Iheve, Fanny bore a son ; and when they removed to a 
iMmse of their own, the kfnd-hearted Eleanor assisted 
them in rmata ways. The young wife became con- 
avmptive, and matefnal care was exerted in vain. The 
gay, goed^'hrnnoured Fanny cUed. Her son, taken to the 
bosom of the nommal grandmother, was the consolation of 
her widowhood. She sent ^him to school, instilled good 
principles into his mind, and won his little heart by her 
unwearied love. His father loved him; but having a 
family by a second marriage, sought not to deprive Eleanor 
of her charge. It was a beautiful sight to behold the 

904 mhomvc rKM9B« 

of 1ii6 ypng WMA to hk aged an^iiilitai 
&otraM*^h«r fatUe frame, a» aba moved wikng the rtiuH , 
■uiiported by tbe aim of heraffiBctio&ate, adopted gmtidaBfa« 
ivliila bar lookt of aauibility and aeevet exaltation demon- 
itiatad Aat die alieady began toiaaptbeiewavdefher 
benefoleiit aoiicitnde. 

. Jane waa the ekdeit daughter of a widow liiio bad a 
laige fiimily. She im«s an active and wiling aMistant to 
her mother, who aot only Inrtnieted her in aB domeati e 
conoema, but, by her eaoeUent exaaoEite and piouapie- 
c^li, imtiUed into her daugbter'i mind tbe p«iie prin- 
ciplea of geBaine rettgam, which took deep loot in eo good 
a loil. 

Jane was healthy, Strang, and active, ^e fode le- 
markably weU. Her biotbers, being addicted to the 
divenuon of hnnling, and fondly attached to their sister, 
prevailed upon hsr one momtng to join them in their 
iaTOttiite amuement. Several other young leiHrieawete 
of the party ; but Jane, either better moonted, or btving 
more oouiage, outiid theaa all, and waa in at the death of 
the hare. She returned home: &e oflEerresoenoeofber 
apiiits had subsided, and she stood pensive in Ifaepreseooe 
of her mother. That wise and tender parent read her 
daughter's heart, and saw that k had condemned Ibis 
nnfeminine ea^it, Hie daughter fett, in ^emfldgrairi^ 
of her mother's kMbs, a refnof more toodnng dmn if it 
. had been expressed by severe woids. Thus m siknoe wss 

n^mtmo-nsmfm 9Qft 

Qhcdinnfi^i ii z - r • :/<<'*' «' ui*. />( n< >•■ 

^mifPtiinrvMA^fBffmitsi';. <|i* il i ftwttonm .lfaa(b.4ttiither 
to endure the forrowB which suocesrive^'lirillie he»^^ 
the death of several brothers aiul sisters. The eldest of 
^liWBdr* aitNMik irtao wmimAt» bendl hill1ao«le^«DUd 

Oilyiirtin ptlfiw^^ntHm wrtiyiilili iirirt ofi'tlie«Hidnr/ 
c«|hifltlaitMi tiMbifum«id^/MiulMfee«riif ifaet:.*teigillir, 

caies and this tenderness* to pceserve a li£9 so deaiti'teit 
^SJ^i<^ifk%^w.<PFift.i»ttNPg9l(V^ of 

^iAm«bKi^^ toMM ^Mm alu0nlyfdM|^ti» f. heneif 

"SbMtrthfc^ijwU. ^O j i bwf (h iw'i > Ae«Jlii^ <M rf i .n ii i itw ewriP 
^BWfr i<^.»»«iip»rx(lidf i i iM sntol ili » sfcpe^»gito.iigir 
# ^a t gM< 'iif»M. piw»:><lPWi/ 1— ifiiitiiil 1 1 sml g lw s wd her 
4§raPg. iiMil^ »tilihejl6lMoilriAK&/»kti4^^ mnt' the 
glKS^ta ¥i4^jr^l«Me.^^flMiutfleit4hft(idaBdi 'of. her 
>l^lbiPiAi$^ilfa<>il>«i*oiftintMlk, nbtloatoheih^fplin}* 
^,;,x|l^w^..tiiec«i»i«^ i)i;;fthibsa|^ 'Bkm^eit'htkMf 
%Bi. jiffioy q rf Ptu jatot jyid> tMHrea/^i n n h sa .»<«» 
¥Vi^JlCF^Hli>^^#ilb»lUM^Q»i^^ pa#er, 

^<JHKi^4^itim^ wj». JiB %i i p i ^ jiirt.4hte<ytWMii< «■< 
fraternal ties were now torn asunder* They were a family 


ofmoonem^ fam dwirauidi wiuBli aie ind'mSkMhf 
omtelfw will bMl, and te dispehsilipni of FtoridMce* 
mfieklv wibmittftd to bv ths mtinL kuinble mwmj- 
f«U«wed by the blawnir of leagmilMMi. 

Jano, now ffiaaBgaged from d wp ort i c caiia» was, 
theloM* fuUy eaiplayed : iwr beaerraleBee and oboerratiDB 
bad iMtnioied ber ia th« difiimat of the himaii frame* 
and ahe became Uie daetiesa of te angbbeanug poor* for 
whaao vm the tept alax^B aaaottBicnt of ane d ifiww , and 
te wbom- ibe defoted'tbe seat part of an ample mooBie. 
Hoc ettantiaDa v«ie> net faBa6aed to (baaa.: ail ber fneada 
e yperieatfe d tbeoi, asd tend bar sympeftby and aaaiat- 
MBoa coMoling andeffidMi nmaempiayed, bermind 
raoovewd ita uaual tone, adid in bat somving r«latifeft 
she tend bei>effeotioaMief&ad^ and wa*caiBfuled. Not 
only bythm,butby all wbeknewlnr, weaJanebdeted; 
fiMtbaywens ceeaoioea that baa beat«etpended wiA kind* 
naiBtoalL That Iwait hnd aiie ib ay trial leenoeuater^ 
tvabaie in pairing tibelaiider» wutaaila^ attentaie wbich 
tbe bn^eri^ end fblal {ttaeaa endarad by ibe fatbar of tin 
fendly m wUcb ahe nadadi \Ba% leqoeed baton Uepue 
and paJaant spoil war jaltaaod fkom mortafity* He was 
seanaely loadear to bei< tlutt a baoAer : ber loaa and bar 
grief were gieat ; bvttshe was aeeuslMnad te staDtbetiife 
of bar own sonews to aoppoft others ender fboirSa The 
mownM widow' and 'baa young Ibnay neadad <in 8BC(!oiir 
of snob finanddiip aa::aflHenofr coeldnol pnndiaae, and 
JwM nmemad with them tillibe ibnily ^heeame dimmed 
oaaeceusit of mamagea' and lemaenlsk She then )ef( the 

AOHBsric fuzui. 909 

c ou tw a edy md ^tue 
MdjF MCoUection, and took 
Mgiagt in a oouaSacj towa mbs ioiliM dittuit* Her de- 
pwtoie wa» lamentad by att laalu ; Imc the poor wmild 
flcarody let her leave tiim. A mann offend to Mid 
her a hoaee without fto Of leward; and an amtientman, 
in the hoye diat at laaet her bonee would reet among 
diem, asewed her, that though he waa too lieehle UtaMlf 
to dig her gnner h» wdkU. tUmd by, mnd am it proptrt/jf 
4m«. Another hnnight a pfeeent of potatoes to her lodg^ 
i«9i: ihe tinnhHihim, hat detem u ned to pi^ iDrthen, 
and aoeoidingly had than weighed: tbej wogfaed eight 
atane* Dieappointed in his firrt intention, the poor man 
begged her aenranttoaay that they twigfaadlRitirar, and 
hoped Jane wonU not deteet ihe deoeptaon. This good 
i i w a wan loraa aocietgr^ and the amofaaj of yoiaig pereeni, 
vet fnBliintBdli aubmlti to the ■«M*MAfc nf her'Mleiasa. 
and lo deafheM$ amiieing heneif with, her needle, or 
i'^TVP^\wnng her aaiad hf the peraeid of her bible, ^twl 
the woiha of pioua wiiten ;• vintiBg the «cfc or afflicted; 
Mociviag her fidends with coediai hoytaJHy *, and now, 
in her 78th jiear, expeeing heneif to eoU, and ftttiguing 
jomtteyei ia the dieeharge.of thoee dntin which «be is 
called ttaoo toperfpDn* 

Thapedigieeflf eeteml peiaonewdioonoe faappeoadeD 
be inoompany together, beiag ande<the tapn of comrer* 
aeliDii, it waa inqvind of Macia, w4io wae her anoeetor 1 
'<Hewsa,"amweiedelM, "wlmhSoaUogae.'' Ifher 

200 i>oii»Tic yuavw* 

cbeeiittl and unembanMied teply wat heard with a 
it was the imile of love and approbation, which aduu^* 
lodged that a rich and generous soil alone covld produce 
fruits of soch peculiar and eioeUent flavour aa were en- 
joyed in the friendship and ooowenation of Maria. Her 
ancestor was an Irish fanner, in confortahle oroumstanoee, 
as the title Scollogue denotes. Maria and her sister, in- 
dustrious, independent, and unassisted, pursued the busi- 
ness of sh(^kkeeping : their integrity, their pti n ctna l i t y, 
their fair and honourable dealing, gained them sincere re- 
spect, and they were even moie beloved than lespeeted, 
because of their total freedom £rom selfishness ; their native 
politeness, which seemed to receive while it conferred a 
favour ) their quick peroepiaon of, and scmpuloae attention 
to, the feelings ofothejrs^ and their, genuine oempassion, 
which gave relief with secxecy and diacriminatien. Yet u. 
jKX>r woman, who knew their family, declaied they de- 
served no credit for their good nature — they ooidd net 
avoid possessing it — they inherited it fromthehr gEttnd- 
father and grandmother; and branching from such a 
stock, their virtues were hereditary* Pnidenoe, engrafted 
on this precious stock, was cherished by that high sense of 
independence, which prevents impositioDs on geaeiesi^, 
quickens discernment, without contracting . the mind. 
They were very regular and neat in their habits, yet the 
little children of a friend, their nearest neighbour, were 
freely admitted at all times to them. They reproved their 
m i s de m ean o rs with gentle fiimness ; while, sensible of their 
affection, the children fondly loved them. When these 

t>OM18TIC VIHTVX* 209 

diiidxien were indisposed, their mother flew to Maria, de- 
peniUiig on her skill, and experiendng the good e^ct of 
her judgment. They were her consolers in sickness or 
sorrow, in her domestic' concerns she found them able 
advisers and willing assistaats ; hut if her gratitude con- 
fessed to others what riie owed to them, they were grieved, 
and somewhat displeased, mhing to perform their good 
acts in secret, and jealous lest the merit of their friend 
should msSer through their means. The children seemed 
a joint slock, and canned with thein to maturity the love 
which attached ton to their eioeUent friends. Thus the 
two families lived twenty-five years under one roof ; they 
had shared the joys aad wmm% of ^ach other, and hoped 
to descend the hiH of life together, when the younger of 
diese worthy maideoi sunk into a langoifthing state of 
health. Maria, ever attentive to the sick* neglected nothing 
to restore or comfort her sister ; and sometisMS oppressed 
by her fears, agidn eofifened by hope* she continued her 
pious officses for six years, with unremitted, with increased 
attention ; while the drooping riirter often repressed the 
exptemon of her feelings when Miaria was present, to 
avoid rousing the sorrow whidi the beloved suflerer la- 
mented to witness. She gfided gently from this world of 
trial, and left to her bereaved sister the consolation of re- 
flecting on her virtues, and on her own tender cares. 




My spirit was sad when evemng fell 

Around my infant home ; 
There was a voice that seemed to tdl 

Of griefs that were to come — 
Of friends whose parting word should be 
A long and last farewell to me — 
Of change, forgetfolness, and woe. 
Blighting what hearts were left to glow. 

I stood — where years before I stood — 

Before that early home ; 
The winter's whelming torrent flood, 

Had flung not there its foam ; 
Nor there had war, with crimson hand. 
Hurled in his wrath the flaming brand ; 
Nor pestilence nor famine raved. 
Nor tyranny the land enslaved. 


But there ^e hand of time had wrought, 

That perishing change en all, 
Which leaves but for the brooding thought 

The ruin ere the fall ; 
Making the hearths deep puke to be 
A wanting of eternity, 
And love for things of earth to seem 
The wasted music of a dream. 

The flowers had perished not, but grew 

Less floridly and bright ^ , 
They had not that same Uviqg hue. 

That odorous brea,th of light. 
Which was around them .when each st^n 
Bloomed for the ^and thai, planted them. 
And every thing beade yns gay. 
And full of young sweet health as they. 

And there were all the things the eye 

Had registered within the breast, 
Wearing the same reality. 

But not the charm of old possest ; 
And where another's eye had seen 
But little change in what had been, 
To me, time seemM vrith quieker tread. 
His desolating hand to spread. 


My heart had borne the blight and stom 

The toil of many yean ; 
But there was round fhe daikest fonn« 

That woe or peril weanb 
No gloom so deep as tha^ which pres^dd 
Heavily on the aching breast. 
When hope its long-sought hoaie surveyed. 
And foand each home-loved thing decayed. 

Tis not the retrospective glance, 

Adown the stream eC yean, 
That makes as scom tiie dizzy dance 

Of earthly hopes and fears ; 
It is the ebange of things we kyve. 
Tor their sakes who are new above — 
The change of Aings wbese forms^ are wiovglit 
Into tha( linked chain of thought. 


Ttda noble Abbey is situated on the riyer Nore, about ei^t 
miles distant firam Kilkenny. It was founded in 1180, by 
Donagh Fitz-Patrick» King of Ossoryj for Cioterrian Monkil. 
Among the mitred abbeys, it was, in wealth, possesnions, and 
architectural splendour, esteemed the fourdi in the kingdom. 
Its extensiye and beautiful ruins strikingly attest the justice 
of tkoB ascribed distinction, as well as irresistibly command 
the admiration of every beholder. It was suppressed in 1540, 
and its estate of IffOO acres in demesne laxid, was granted, 
with its other estates, to ThomasButler , tenth Earl of Oxmond . 
The last Lord Abbot was OBter Grace, one of the descendants 
of the f^i^ous Raymond le Gros, the companion and btother- 
in-law of Strongfoow. This noble family long retained great 
power and immense property in the Queen's County, and in 
the County of Kilkenny, where their name and their deeds 
axe still o^brated in the rude lays of the peasantry.. 

How the earth darkens ! not a day-beam cheers 

Its pensive look, or gilds the evenii^ sky ', 
While through the gloom, from other worlds, appears 

No smile to bid the gathering shadows die. 
All is so sadly still ! the cooling breeze. 

That from yon mountains their mUd freshness bears,. 
Now breathes not, floating through the blossom'd tiees, 

To fan the sable garb which nature wears. 

2 14 I.CNS8 warrrsv in jsiiPoniT abbsy. 

No star upon our world's dvk cmtain henoMf 

And Che moon mooiiti not her etherial throne. 
Where other evet h«v8 seen her sit svpnoie 

In power and hpgjitness, besntiiUl; Iqpe ; 
While o'er the track «f hasna^ deepclovli edvance 

And nature sinks into a sullen sleep ; 
So, like the unearthly stOlaen of a trance. 

From which 'tis luxury to wake and weep* 

I gaze wherer Jopoint's voiezable pSe^ 

Majestic in its ruins, o'er me lowers : 
The worm now crawls through each untcodden aisle> 

And the bat hides within its time-wero toweis* 
It was not thu»> when, in the olden time. 

The holy inmates of yon farok^i wall 
Lived free from woes which spring from care or crime. 

Those shackles which the grosser world enthral. 
Then, while the setting sun-beams glistened o'er 

The earth, arose to heaven the vesper song : 
But now the sacred sound is heard no more. 

No music floats the dreary aisles along ; 
Ne'er from its chancel soars the midnight prayer- 
Its stillness broken by no earthly thing, 
Save when the night-bird wakes the echoes there. 

Or the bat flutters its unfeather'd wing. 

But mark where yonder dusky clouds roH on. 

To cast a darker shade on aH bdow f 
Now that the minstrels of the woods are gone. 

The stream makes lonely music in its flow. 

Thy Btroam, tiifMi.iov<% tinier; tfiiiie, s#Mt Noiei 

Flowing, tlxHifh «11 itioimd tiiee feeldeety ; 
Thy banks, stUl i«Ml«&t ss in days of yen ; 

Through the «aiM plaim thy eiytttd waters stray. 
Still through ike sMne uiitroddeii psrth^ay glide 

On to the tracklMi oeentt's M¥tr sfaem, 
Till, mingling with the dark «tad briny tide. 

Its dear and telMlesB natiimis iiemMe.~>- 
How like each eariy hqie, each infiint theoght f 

When the young heait, like yonder stream, could stray, 
Till from the woild its spotless hue has canght 

The taint and tinge of sorrow on its way. 

O Night ! how many a thing we learn from thee— 

Mother of contemplation ! We may gaze 
Through thy deep curtains on the I)eity, 

With eyes unblinded by the sun^s bright blaze. 
O, nnrse of fancy ! ' on thy spotless wing, 

When in thy holy west the day-beam falls. 
To happier, brighter worlds, the soul may spring, 

And leave the day to its ephemerals. 
How oft, when thou wert passing o*er the earth, 

And trampling nature's fairest on thy way. 
Thy shadows gave my pensire feelings birth. 

And I have loved in thy lone hour to stray ! 
Thy coronet was gemm'd with worlds of light. 

By distance soften'd ; and thy sable dress 
Was sparkled o'er by orbs, that beamed so bright. 

As they were conscious of thy loveliness. 


But now it leems as 'twere thy mourning hour. 

The dew Uiou weep'st falls heavily around ; 
And nature feels not thy refreshing power, 

Give trees thar bloom, and verdure to the ground. 
Farewell ! — all chill and cheerless as thou art ; 

Thy clouds hang o'er yon faiffi, whose fallen state. 
How true an emblem of the human heart. 

Which, once deserted, soon is desolate ! 
Farewell ! — those relics of the days gone by 

Have waken'd feelings which thy shadowy reign 
Has called forth into being ; and thy sky* 

Though dark, I have not gazed upon in vain. 
Farewell ! — yon ruined tower and broken wall, 

Near which, on many an eve, I've loved to stray, 
Teach me, that thus our proudest hopes must fall. 

And leave us, time-worn, darkly to decay. 




It is now, I will not say how many years, since t 
tzaveUed, with a heart as Kght as my purse, over that 
romantic wilderness, the land " o' ^reen buchan,*' the 
bonnie hrare kingdom of Scotland. At this distance of 
place and time, I have a melancholy pleasure in review- 
ing, through tiie dim glass of memory, the scenes I there 
beheld ; in citii^ up the numberless accidents of flood 
and fell which occurred to me upon the way; and in 
mentally picturing the vista of by-gone years, when, in 
a long perspective, the image of what I then was appears, 
springing with the elastic foot of youth over the grey rock 
and Jrarple heather of Cairn Oorm or Ben Nevis. It is 
one of the few gratifications which a heart charged with 


sorrow p^mits oie to indulge, that of retracing my way- 
ward steps on an old mi^), (I have carried it about me 
ever since,) from town to town, and from shire to shire ; 
to f<^ow myself, as it were, in invagination, over moun- 
tains which I once scaled, axid rivers which I once forded. 
In the childishness*' of my a&ction for those times, I have 



marked down, hy a kind of rough gradaation, the viUages, 
nay, the veiy huts where I rested on my journey ; the 
rock upon which I stood, Vke a statue of wonder, gaang 
at the sublime prospect beneath, the lonely glen of streams 
where I wandered while the houts went by. I should be 
almost ashamed tb acknowledge how often I have travelled 
over this same route at my own iireside ; and how often I 
find myself, with a weakness I cannot restrain, *' distin- 
guishing each footstep with a tear," as my pen slowly 
traces the line of my youthful progress. In my dreams I 
am often restored to the scenes I love eo deaily : I see the 
craggy hiUs towering before ibe : the "^ild, precipitoos rtt- 
vine opens at my feet ; and th^ deep melody of the mouii^ 
tadn stream echoes in my ear. These- visiitoafy hours are 
the happiest I enjoy. 
■ It will be readily surmised, that there ire fsaam finer 
associations than can ever subsiftt between animatb and 
inankaate thingb, which bind my thoughts- so fondly 
to the land I speak of* There artf ; wad I pro^ee^ te 
unfold them. 

Returning homeward tiffoo^ Ainyleshirev I' reetillm«ed 
that in this part of the ttountry lived a ge nd w rn to, (n eM 
and tried friend of my father's. Th^ had bcteft brother 
efiicers, and fought side by side thronshotttliife whole 
series of wars that desolated Europe about the midtUe of 
the last centttcy. To this gentleman, who, l&e my fitther, 
had retired many yean from the service, I had ciftieil 
out a specific letter ef introduetioB ftmn Us eoaipitttUMl ill 
anns ; b«t I shendd mttrt probably haem MgtotsMl la 

Xa^ LILT OF LOftN. 21d 

deliver it> as I bad always an insuperaJ^le objeetioa to 
UUet myself in this way, if I had not chanced to meet 
^jrith a alight accident near the village where the person 
it was addressed to resided* This obliged me to stop for a 
night at the inn, and niy first visitor in the morning was 
Captain Maclachlan. He had heard there was a stranger 
laid up at the hostel, with a broken arm, (into which 
seport had magnified a contused shoulder,) and^ like the 
good Samaritan, thought it his duty to attend upon the 
auffei»r, without knpwing any thing about him more than 
bis misfortune. In relating the occurrence, I purposely 
izUmd^ced my own name. The old gentleman looked 
stedfjpuBtly at me for a moment, and then, stretching out 
bis h^nd, said at once — ** You are the son of Fred. 
Worthington 1" I replied in the afiSrmative, at the same 
time pro4ucii)g my credentials. It is impfwsible to express 
tbe joy that ijluminated the benevolent laird's counta- 
o^mce, when be recoignized the well-known character of 
|iis old eomia^e. After reading the letter, half aloud* he 
exclaimed, " Gude sirs! how happy will this make Jeanie 
and the girls ! "- — foftd. hastily taking up lus hat, insisted 
on giving immediate orders for my removal to his own 
bouye, where his wife and daughters would be ''out o' 
their wits to se^^the son of his awld Southron friend amang 
the ffiountains I " Refusal on my part was wholly out of 
the questioii : I atten^ted the usual form of excuse, but 
Cap^in Maclachlan did not seem to understand it. I9 
short, before another hour had elapsed, I found myself 
b^d on the old-fasbioued settee in the parlour of Fairlie- 


lunue, supported at each side by pillows, and my chin 
brought conveniently ab6ve tiie leaf of a wdl-fomished 
breakfast-table. My kind host, Mrs. Macladtlan, and 
four comely daughters, sat round the hospitable boaid, 
expressing in every look and action their solicitude that I 
should find myself happy amongst them. 

The laird's discourse consisted chiefly of inquiries alxrat 
the health, appearance, pursuits, et cetera, of his old 
fellow-soldier ; while he interrupted my answers eiveiy 
now and then with a — " Hech! but I am glad to see 
the boyT'— *< Weel! weel! that I should ever live to 
see his father's son ! " and similar ezdamations, which I 
can hardly transcribe. Mn. Madachlaa spoke in the 
most enthusiastic terms of my mother, whom she had 
known in youth, and found out several points of resem- 
blance in our features ; though the Captain insisted I was 
no more like her than a black cock to a turtle-dove, but 
was^the very image of [my father. The yoiong ladies ven- 
tured a question or two upon the fashions, amusements, 
and novelties of EngUmd. This convseisation was followed 
by a cross-examination from all parties — ^How long I had 
been in Scotland 1 — What I thought of the country?— 
What stay 1 intended to make? To the latter question* 
I r«|>lied, that some matters having occurred since I left 
the South, of which I was apprised by^letters, they would 
oblige me to set out for London the day following. - This 
answer was received by the kind-hearted family wifli a 
look which approached to absolute dismay : eveiy voice 
was itused against it : one would have thongfat I had pro* 

TUX ULT or I^RN* 221 

pwed leai^ ^"^ ^ Corrt^Vffeaii, so imich honor was 
depicted on eveiy eountemince. Tho laird himself ap? 
peaiod thmtdoistnidL ; his good lady raited her hands, 
and droi^)ed them twice or thrice on her kneea> vowing 
she had '' ne'er heaid o* sie a thing in a' her bora days ; " 
their daughters, whh one aooord, ezckiimed against the 
project as totally impossible i-^** What t would I go 
without seeing the boniue glen, and the waterfti', and the 
eoho-stone, and the tomb of Lord Roaaldr-all unthin a 
mile 0* themi " They then went on to enumerate all tiie 
curiosttiesof the place, mentiomng with every ciicumstanoe 
of interest whatever they thought calculated to exoce and 
detain me, each prooiising me something better than the 
laat» if I would remain anumgst them. When all their 
powers of eInrpMnoe and persuasion seemed to be ex- 
hausted, and they sat waiting in the deepest amdetyibr my 
ultimatum, which indeed 1 was somewhat ponied to give,—* 
Margaret, the youngest giili fuddenly turning to one of 
her sisteis, whii^fwred in her ear, loud enoagh to be heard 
by aU present (she henelf not being of age to state the 
proposal in finm)— " Promise him, if he wUI stay, to 
ehow him the Lily of Lorn." 

" O, gude sirs i 1^ I "-^was the 4inited exolamntion ; 
** how did we foiget it sae laqgl Yon have never sera 
the Lily of liom 1 You cannot possibly leave us— yon 
will never forgive younelf if you go— without seeing the 
Lily !— the wonder— the beauty — ^the pride of a' Scodand 
—the Lily of Lom ! *' 

I had really determined upon staying, before this latter 

u 2 

232 THS ULT 0¥ LOBTT. 

inducement (the natioe of which, indeed, I did not im- 
mediately comprohend) was held out to me. Business, 
I thought, could wait for a week or two, while I gratifiecf 
at once the hospitable feelings of these amiable people, 
and my own inclinations to cukivate a friendship so dis' 
interestedly ofiered. As soon as I declared my resolution, 
a joyful light overspread every countenance : I received 
as many thanks as if I had conferred a serious obliga- 
tion ; and Meg was so praised for her sly hint; that she 
blushed, and could scarcely hold up her head for an hour 

I honestly confess, (though it certainly had no- part in 
the resolution I had come to,)' that I did feel some curi- 
osity about this Lily, whatever it might be, which they 
spoke of; and therefore, allowmg sufficient time as F 
thought to intervene, I at length requested an explanation. 
They all laughed at my question ; and seeing that my 
curiositf was roused, they maHciously withheld aS inform- 
ation on the subject. No satisfaction would be given 
me, but that I should see, on the next evening but one, 
" the flower o* Scottish land," in all its beauty, at a 
friend's house in the neighbourhood. Even Meg, whom 
I asked confidentially^ the day after to resolve the mystery, 
only tantalized me the more by pretending to unibld it in 
a song, with which she danced out of my presence : 

The Ulj f Hhe UXy { O eapae «ak4 dedwe 
That in Nature's green lap there's oae flower 8«e &ir 1 
From the tulip sae proud t£> the daisy sac sma', 
Oh I the bennie sweet Lily*b the qaeen o' them a' f 


The Uly ! the Lily ' te wear in my hand I 
She's the wonder, an' beauty, an' pride of the land ! 
All hearts an' all eyes she is made to enthra'. 
And the bonnie sweet Lily's the Iuto o' us a' t 

The LUy ! the Lily, to set in my bower I 
Sae modest, sae taintless, sae winsome a flower I 
Were the stars frae the sky to come drapping like anaw. 
Oh ! the bonnie sweet Lily wad shine o'er them a' ! 

The LUy ! the Uly, to put on the throne I 
She wad keep as all leal by her beauty alone ; 
But 'twere sair for a monarch to tak' her awa't 
For the bonnie sweet Lily's the pride o' us a' I 

I could not but suspect what was really the truth ; 
however, the joke was kept up against me till the ap- 
pointed evening. In the mean time, I had so far recovered 
from my accident as to be able to stroll about the grounds 
of Fairlie, which were beautifully wild and varied ; — to 
see the "bonnie glen," and the "waterfa'," — both indeed 
quite as lovely as th^ had been described. 

There was a large assembly at Dinringan Hall. In 
that thinly-peopled country, where the gentry have so 
few opportunities of meeting, a party is sure to be well 
intended. Several persons had come many miles : there 
was a good deal of beauty, sufficient elegance, and no 
lack of conversation. On our way hither, I had been 
tormented more than enough about what I was to see that 
evening ; but when we entered the room, my young friends 
were too much occupied with the attentions they, received 
or expected, to continue the jest. I, however, had not 
forgotten it. I do not know why, but I felt that the seeds 


of my sweet or bitter fortune were to be sown that night. 
It was evident to me now what was meant by the ** Lily 
of Lorn/' and I continued silently observing every an- 
nouncement. At one time there was a great noise and 
rustle on the staircase : my heart beat audibly, and I fixed 
my eyes on th<e door. A tall, fashionable girl entered : 
she was dressed in great ^lendour, and wore a bonn^ of 
graceful plumes : her features were decidedly handsome. 
Can this be the Lily of Lorn 1 It may be so ; but for 
me, she has too much the air of a professed helh — a lady 
to be UxuUd at men-parties, and praised with their dogs 
and their horses. Ay, it mutt be so 1 She was indeed 
manifestly the victim of her own vanity-— the spoilt child 
of admiratioa* A great number of young men instantly 
surrounded her as she made her appearance; and that 
part of the room which she ohcoe for her place of state 
and display, was immediately consecrated to vanity and 
flattery, folly and confusion* All was laughter, con^li- 
ment, and noise. The centre of attraction appeared to be 
m high spirits at the court that was paid her : she lalhed 
one, coquetted with another, pouted at a third, and prat- 
tled with all. Again I asked myaelf-«-*And is this the 
Lily, the ** pride o' the land! " the boasted Lily, the 
beautiful, the <' queen'' Lily ! the " hive o' them a' I"— 
Tasteless or ignorant people ! 

Whikt the noise continued, or rather increased, and 
all attention was employed upon Miss BAodolph, (fiv 
that I heard was the beauty's name,) I aat diaooateDtadly 
behind backs, where the room was almost deierted. I 


was quite indisposed to join in the senseless merriment 
that was going forward: my thoughts hegan to revert 
to the matters of business which I had implnidently post- 
poned, and I was inwardly meditating how I should with 
a good grace ^de my promise to the Maclachlan family. 
The servant announced Mrs. and Miss Leslie; but he 
was not heard by the company, now completely engaged ; 
so the party newly arrived walked into the room silently 
ioad unobserved. The genteel, rather wasted form of a 
lady, whose years might be about thirly-six, leaned upon 
the arm of a girl apparently half that age, who seemed to 
love this office of support partly because it enabled her to 
remain out of view. Thi^ advanced near to the crowd, 
into wfaidi the lady peeped with a smile -of inquiry, while 
her daughter stood rather behind her, smiling too, but as 
if it vras only became her mother did so. She looked like 
a young violet, in the' shade of ils parent flower. As the 
idea crossed my mind, one of the outer circle happening 
to turn round, exclaimed, " Ah ! here is the Lily ! " 
The words caught Uke^ wildfire; every other sound was 
mute ; every eye was directed to where she stood. A 
murmur of inexpressible joy ran through the room : no- 
thing was to be heard but—" The Lily ! "— " The Lily of 
Lmh ! "— *' She is come ! "— " She is here ! "--" Where? 
where 1 "— " There she is ! "— " The dear Lily ! "— " The 
pride o' our hearts!" — " Blessing o* Heaven on her 
beauty!'.' All the young men seemed to congratulate 
eteh other, while, with the utmost anxiety, they endea- 
voured to see her : those who were nearest looked expec- 


tantiy but leipeelftilly at her, each wtt^g untii it was 
his turn to veoeive her smile, and then retisk^ with a sigh 
of content, as he gave place to another. Still ntoie 
strange, the girls (many of them very beautiful) crowded 
fondly around her ; some of than kissed her, some called her 
by the endearing title above-mentioned, others greeted her 
with the most affeptionate TBODgmtions~ all nnieserredly 
praised her. £vefk the old people blessed her from the 
distance, bestowing upon her a thousand amiable supers 
latives, and recounting her well-known perfections one to 
the other. 

I could not but remark the difference between this re- 
ception and that of Miss Randolph. The other was kmd, 
forward, theatrical ; this was subdued, devoted, l espectfal : 
it passed almost in silence. From the noistait memment 
before the Lily was recognized, the general voice of the 
company sank into low murmurs of delight and repressed 
enthusiasm, as if it feared to offend, even by applause. 
Tliat reception might have been the effect of admiration ; 
but this was the result of pure affection. The attention 
paid in the one case was homage — ^in the other,^luntaiy 

To account at once for this marked difierence required 
no great stretch of philosophy. The qualities which en* 
gage an interest so deep, and yet so refined, must them- 
selves lie as deep as the heart ! Were this girl meiely 
beautiful, thought I, she would only be admired like Miss 
Randolph ; and however she might exceed that lady in 
peraonal charms, the admiration paid her wouM still be 


of the nme kind. But enthusiaAn so pare and to pro- 

fo«]id» betpeaka in the object of it Bomething of a far, far 

aupaiior nature' to any perfection with which the outward 

loiin can be endued. It is not the shrine itself, however 

beautiful, that excites our veneration, but the spirit within. 

N<Bvertheleas, that beanty had its share in this matter, was 

betyond disputation. Maiy Leslie was between seventeen 

and eighteen ; her fbnn almost too slight to print the 

earthy but gnceAd aa it was etherial. WhUe, she stood 

drooping beside her mother, whose arm was still locked 

in hers, she pat me in mind of a tendril silently winding 

up its nntemal stem, axid httnging its sweet head beneadi 

her sheltsr. The eolour of her hair was raven-dark, finely 

coaArasting with the pure and alabaster paleness of her 

complazion, unstained even by a single tinge of natural 

rouge to render less apptica^e her beautiftil surname. 

Jt was from tlus resemblance between the human being 

and the flower, that she was called the Lily of Lorn. 

Minular deseriptHm of her appearance is needless; al- 

thnugh, even at this distance of time, I could give it, if 

reqaiied, ftmn the indelU^e pietme in my heart. I will 

only add, that upon her lip she had a faint but settled 

tUtiis, which it was oipofisible to characterize as either 

g^ or melaBCholy : it seemed at once to dedstfe the 

soeetnen of h» mmd that wo^d be pleased with all 

arouad it, and tt0' seribusiM^ of her thoughts which 

taagbt her to lofk upon all earthly enjoyments as tran- 

sitDty end iasee^e« This ezpresnon generally accorded 

with that el her sweet, deep-blue eyes ; in the variety and 


glare of passing objects^ they itUL seeined to lodk heyand 
this world and above it, as if inwanUy contffnplating ^er 
final resting-place aooid kindred qpirits i while in. the ke- 
nignity of her nature^ during her confinement to earth,- i^e 
suffered earth's creatuxes to approach her. 

It may have been some involuntary, perhaps instinctive 
presentiijaeut of her unworldly destination, which, tai^t 
her a behaviour calculated to ensure at once the highest 
degree of respect and devoted attachment from both sexes. 
A kindred impression, probably as uncoosdoos, seemed 
to reign throughout the society in, which she casuafly 
mingled, subduing the ardour of human love into Mime- 
thing like the lowliness of adoratioa.. Indeed, ihe peffioos 
who composed this society lyere maiu^ratly below her, evto 
in earthly qualities; they were* fot Ihe most pint, a 
homely, plain sqrt of people, .who had no {xeteouons to 
any thing much above, mediociify.. It was tio wonder, 
therefore, that they exalted this giil into a kind of petty 
divinity, and ccmsidiered her as a being of too saperioran 
order for them to insult, with a proffer of aught baft the 
most humble and. distant afiectkm- Althou^ anongst 
them, she seemed k^ of them. With all her wor- 
shippers, s)ie had not one lover.**^ the feeling with wfdch 
they, regarded her waa of quite a difierent nature fhxn 
what they indulged townids frail asid imperfect creatures 
like' themselves. They would not daie to apptoach her 
with so. earthly a passioi). Their attachment to her was 
a mingled feeling — something between that whiehweowe 
to a saint and that which we have towards aaistef. With 

THB LILT or XOBK* 320 

«ft tturii tauitjr and to nmeh purity, it was at least to be 
«ipeeled tliat she woiill become a general favoorita, and 
•btaia within this primitiTe district (for I do not know 
that it t^iread anj ftuther) one of those aflectionate sur- 
names which the Scottish people are so fond of bestowing. 
Era X had long continued to speak with her, the secret 
charm which had produced sach wondnms efiects upon all 
who liii«d within the sphere of its inflaence» began to 
imSM itself. Yet it is hard to describe in what it oon- 
atsledy or how it gradually and unperoeiTedly stole over 
the willing senses. It was chiefly due, perhaps to an 
iobDra aweelttess of denieaiMntr, a natural beauty of manner, 
accompanied- with sueh an exquisite purity of thought and 
langaage, aa indicated a mind not only perfectly unsullied 
by a single tawi of earth, but, as it were, incapable of 
being auUiad firam its hallowed simplidty. Her sentiments 
W9» the.uBlanght emanations of an innocent heart ; her 
roodft of egprcming' them, brief and artless. But the grace 
with which^ehe smiled away her words, the pure, bird*like 
fnefaidy «f her voice, and the inefinUe benignity which 
shone like a glory on her brew, bound up the spirits of 
those whc listened and looked, tili> they thodght some 
vision of a brighter world had desoended before them. 
After all, goodnmt, native, unassvming goodness of dis« 
position, was the souioe from whence moat of these qualities 
were derived: and as goodness itself is derived from 
heaven, it infused a qnrit of angelieism into all her looks 
and thoughts and words and actions. This it was which, 
in fplte of the ei|vy of her own sax, and the earthUness of 



tiM ol^, Hmctifieaher» as it woe, from the aActBorbo«li, 
ud coosoeimlBd her amongst faar fiBHofr-martala. 

J was lOon Bioe the otfaen. At fint, Imt ootmuid 
qualilifla had atnidc me with admixaliim; but I now 
acaredy acknowledged, or at least racbUoeted them : tfae 
Instre of her mind threw a halo round her person, and 
Jimmyl what it ^ofifiod. She stood, as it were, in the 
sphere of her own brightness, the elialgsnce of her vwn 
spirit ; through which the outward ibnn was scarody dis- 
osmible, so great was the sairounding splendcNir. In tfus 
way, her penonal beautf seemed oidy to attract obaeifatioB 
to her moral loveliness, and then retne behind it. The 
longer I looked upon her, the less capable I was of seeing 
her outward ibnn : it faded in the spiritual brilliancy that 
enshrouded it. I fmmd myself gradlaHy imbibinga purer 
and less eaitUy sentiment towards her than penwnal admi- 
ration. As I beoame more intimate, I Mtmysslf growing 
more distant ; and firam wishing td toudi that fine and 
delicate hand, I now almost thought my toueh would 
pro&ne it. The rest of the night passed over in tranquil, 
but inexpressible joy. 

To the letter I had written acquainting my father with 
my proposed stay in the Highlands, he replied, that the 
business! spoke of being postponed for seme time, I might 
therefore employ the interval as I liked. Need I say, how 
I employed itl I felt that 1 was a better, a happier man, 
in the presence of Miss Leslie, and there I oonttnuaDy 
found myself. Wherever she was, she made a ktnd of 
sanoti^ about her, and whilst within that sphere, it aras 

2SB ULT Of LORW. t$l 

jmtpomMt to inAilge a tliovglrt, a denra, but wiiat wae 
pme and hdy. All llie tmuymtmnm M emoiiaM of die loal 
wne laid at rest by bar majantic Mnnitf ; die beait pat 
offaUitiamwoilliyalieclioDay aa if endeayoaring to con fom i 
imif to an eaam^ to Inig^t, and to vender its wonhtp 

In tlM deep boMra of amonntaiiii^, abouttfaiaeflulee 

htm. ¥mAe-hiomm, IIm Xiediea lawdedi They were not 

originiAy inhabitants of Lon; bnt after the death of 

Cohmel Leslie his widow and denghter had vetMi to dm 

seqneeteeed spot, whedier by oheioe or neeeniiy was 

wnknown and umnpiind. Soch angehe hean^ as the 

Uif% suddenly descendiiig anmngst Aeeewild scenes, in^ 

dined the peeeanny to drink it had « dtaptikao heaven s" 

the b ene fi c enc e with which Ibey Iwnd it accompanied^ 

seemed to oenfinn die beliif .. Often, whilBt I wandered 

lowaids the saDctaaiy of this sedoded eneeUenoe, I was an 

iBfofaintaiy witness of the estimation in which she was 

faeM, and how she deserved it. As her lighti aerial lisfm 

glided diwagh the woody prociu cti of her own domain, or 

appeared for a moment amid the rodcs and ibliage of the 

ffaa, dn peasant would lean upon his spade, and, in the 

imtaaght eloqaenoe of nature, poor fiirdi the faptnroiis 

effiisionsofhb heart on her goodness and beauty. -Asshe 

passed die cottage-door, the gnde wife would stop her 

wheel, and utter a benediction upon her head, that could 

not but be heard where such prayers aie directed. I have 

flAen seen her, like the Angel of Hope, standing at the 

mk hed-side» wUie she bieadied oonsdatiott and fortitude 


into the toul bowed down liy cahmity : I hanft often aeea 
hfU, like Uie Angel of Chaiit]r* enterafodoni hovel, wfaeve 
■he adminietered comfort to miaeiy, and raised po i i e i ty 
from deepaur : I have often, often seen her, like the Angisl 
of Pity, weep at the aiflietioDS she coi^ not nlieve, and 
with the balm of her heavenly tears mitigale the pain ci 
those deep heart- wonndsiiHndi it was not peneitted her to 
cure. O ! eouldl thev wondcmt Ae love, almost super* 
stitioiis, with whieh she was beheld hy^diese people? 

I remember upon oae occasion, tatting with an old man, 
who bad been " out in 16," when in the midst of an ac^ 
count he was giving me of the battle of Dumblaine, he 
broke off with a sadden ezdamalioB — " Ah ! ^lere she 
gaes J The bonnie lily I May the bligfal nefer &' on her 
bosom V* " Ay^'Vsaid his wife, '* heie she oomes as leelit 
as the mist, wi' her white wimple o'er her snawy che^ ! 
She's gaun to awkLDame Spinttie'a, I wanant her; wi' a 
bitsiller, or somefi^to comfort the pair body!". *< rdialhcr 
hae h» blessing than aaither's bomktie," rejoindd Dnn^aa ; 
** E'en the veiy gowaa she smiles at, ^rings the mreelest !" 
Such w»e the feelings which' she inspired. Beauty might 
have made her the idol of the drawiag-ioem ; but it warn 
4mly benevoleQee that could readef her the favoniite of the. 

An unmerited prepossession of Mrs. Leslie^ in mif 
Cavoury together, with my own inchnatioDs, had almost rda- 
derad the fthatean in the glen another heme to me. One 
evemng I ventured a late and uneeremmiaas visit. The 
dewefeU sweetly thraugh the y^w beama of te da* 

ms Lfi»T Oft vbwf* 

■oddiBg mn, upon the giwntiiif^ It wm a pw we fa l, m 
bslWvrad— .1 had neaiiy Mid, « raBgioasefmiiig ; for die 
beitfi 1^ prone, m the lolemn henriy of the hour, to ee> 
Icaofdedge iti Mtuftustioii by thaakigmng and piaiie« I 
walked thioiigh the anoeathall of the diateaii,whiefa beiiig 
limited 6Mii the top, wasnewinvolradtnaeoBilnegiooiii. 
The iwaiii mfermed me that hie aaielnai had not beMi 
fwy iv«ll that moniag, but that he woold aoqnaint ** MUn 
Lily" ividiflBy piawnoe. i ocniU not MieamEdliiig^, even 
in my pwnent mood, at thii aanaaw, which I fimnd had 
iwaimaledilaelf amon^Ae lower oiden, andwae nttered 
with ae little ccMdoanmeof itabeiB^iietitioue, at if it 
were a leal ^pellatieo. TUe waa a phm demonitiation, 
howeirert thai it waa fiMinded in troth ; it neverwooldelie 
have been natuiaiiiied io oomfdetely. - Soon after, I heaid 
her own tweet veiee on the etain^ nqoetting me to walh 
up.. 8he Mid that her modwr had hem ill, botthatifl 
had no objectioD to tee an invalid, they woold both CnI 
iftncb pfeatiue in n^ oompaigr. • 

I Iroad Mm* Ladies who looked veiy pale and de- 
diningf teated onatieheoaeh at* lai^t onel window, 
which thed a dim ^endear ercrtheantique roooB. Upon 
» deih oovemd with rich oimion veitet, and nqppoited by 
a tli^t tripod'£rame, lay the taoed vohime, befioeB her 
dangbter't chair, at the oppotite odeolthe window. The 
Ltiv liaii been enoaffed in *!»*> itndenit ef all <!«>■«■ thit 
4tf alleviatiag, by the tweet lettont of oomfort and hope> 
the tnfferingt of an afflicted paieat* It waa for tneh an 
ofiioe that bar painted nature bettiiMid her: ihewatdet* 


384 Tm ULT OP LOBir. 

tukBd to be a mimttering angel upon earth, and toibd Im^ 
employed in such a function was no more than I expectedw 
In a few words I regretted having disturbed so holf an 
occupation ; and said, that if I had thought my presence 
would have obliged it to be discontinued, I should not 
thus have forced myself upon them. Mrs. Letdie, with • 
smile, assured me they had already finished their devotkms, 
and that no false ceremony should have persuaded her to 
omit or curtail them. " But, to show Mr. Woithington/' 
continued she to her daughter,' ** that his presence would 
have no such efTect as he fears, open the volume, my lofe^ 
and read another chapter." Without a word, wkhost « 
shadow of real or afiected hesitation in reading befiora • 
stranger, Maiy Leslie drew the book nearer to her, opened 
it, and began. The chapter she casually selected was one 
of diose beautiful and impassioned hymns whidi the in- 
spired lyrist composed to declare the gloiy of his Maker 
and his own humility. Her voice, angelically sweet and 
dear, rose freely as she proceeded, until every tone, as if 
it came from a golden string, rung deeply in &e heart. 
YVith one hand upon the sacred pe^, but her countenance 
turned towards the throne of mercy, she spoke as from her 
own breast the suUime poetry, while her uplifted eyes 
seemed to follow every verse into heaven. At times, I 
thought she i^qieared rising from the earth, and that her 
words were tittered far above me. She eeased, and die 
seraph became mortal again. I could not help sighing io 
myself' — <* No ! it istoo much ! You cannot, should not 
be left hag among us ! The bebfp of a higher sphere 


will shortly claim their sister, and we must resign 
you I 

Does not the reader hope for such a conclusion to this 
stoiy 1 Would he not deeply lament, if, in rdatii^ it, I 
were obliged to inform him that so pure a being was con* 
demned to mingle, ip the low coocems of mortality — to ally 
its spotlessness with the stained and sullied creatures oi 
earth — ^to sufitf the common-place accidents of human life 1 
What feeling, but that of regret, would possess his bosom« 
if I were compelled by truth to declare, tha^t the Lily of 
Lorn had continued to inhabit this world, until all its sweet- 
ness had vanished, and all its beauty had gone 1 For 
myself, even while I wept unmanly tears at her death, I 
rejoiced that Heaven had decreed it. Earth was not her 
place, and she could not be happy upon it. 

I had often observed, that, amidst the deepest resignation 
to her lot, she still,pined for the natural home of her spirit. 
As she beheld her parent waning out of existence, a sigh 
often escaped her, that she should be left alone in the 
world. But it was better ordained. Upon my return 
from England, (where I had been obliged to go, and 
remain for almost a year, about the matters I spoke of,) I 
was informed by my friends at Fairlie, that the amiable 
Mrs. Leslie was fast departing from earth. I went to the 
chateau, and was admitted to her couch, where she lay in 
silent expectation of the destined hour. The Lily wa« 
sitting beside her. I looked at her cheek : " Ah !" thought 
I, "the sweetest flower is soonest faded ! The bud will die 
with the parent-blossom ! " I was as^>9tx^ ^i >2c^% S.t^sqv*^^ 

996 wynvtr. 

ealm joy diftt iat in her eye, and the brighter gmile of her 
Up : ** Yes !" it seemed to say — " Yes, we shall die 
together f'^and it was so ! As the stem withered, the 
branch decUned. As ^ deathlike paleness ef the matron's 
bfow increased, it was iympathetieany reflected in that of 
the giri. When the one had sunk on &e pillow of eternal 
rest, the other had closed her ^es ^or ever* They waned 
as it were by consent ; and, like stars which are hnked by 
some mysterious bond togedier, vanished into the dues at 
the same moment I 


BY miss MltFOdD. 

Within my little garden is a flower, 

A tuft of flowers, most like a sheaf of com. 

The lilac-blossomed daisy that is bom 
At Michaelmas, wrought by the gentle power 
Of this sweet Autumn into one bright shower 

Of blooming beauty — Spring hath nought more fair ! 

Four sister butterflies inhabit there. 
Gay, peaceful creahures ! Bound that odorous bower 
They weave their dance of joy the live-long day. 

Seeming to bless the sunshine ; and at night 
Fold their enamelled wings as if to pray. 

Home-loving pretty ones ! would that I might 
For richer gifts as cheerful tribute pay, 
So meet the rising dawn, so hail the parting day. 



The dangeroo* iidot called the Bell Rock» on the ooaiit of Fife, 
lued fonnerly to be marked only by a Bell, which was no 
placed as to be swung by the motion of the wayc», when the 
tide rose abore the rock. A li^t-house has since been 
erected there. 

Whbk the tide's bUkiwy civeU 
Had xeaofaad it» height. 

Then toHed the Rack's kme B«U, 
Sternly by night. 

Far over cHfTand sorge 
Swept the deep sound, 

IVIaking each wild wind's dijsge 
StitI more pioibvnd. 



Yet that funereal tone 
The sailor bless'd» 

Steering through dariuiess on» 
With fearless breast. 

E'en so may we, that float 
On life's wide sea, 

Welcome each warning note> 
Stem thoo^ it be ! 



** LovEST thou me V I hear my Saviour say : 
Oh I that my heart had power to answer *' Yea ; 
Thou knowest all things, Lord, in heaven above. 
And earth beneath : Thou knowest that I love V* 
But 'tis not so ; in word^ in deed, in thoiwhtft 
I do not, cannot love Thee as I ought. 
Thy love must give that power. Thy love alone ; 
There's nothix^ worthy oCthee bat thine own. 
Lord, vrith the love wherewith Thou lovest 
Shed m my heart abroad, would I love TAae. 



** Excmplo pliu qnam ratume riiriBUifl." 
** We tire more by exiimple tluui reaioo." 

EvEBY one who has attenthrely mariLed the fonnation 
of character, will at once acknowledge, that man has 
been justly called an imitative creature* Direct instruc- 
tion carries leas, and example much more weight, than is 
usually imagined. This is best evinced by obserring that 
plastic period of life, when both the mind and themannen 
are most yidding and susceptible. " We are all," says 
Mr. Locke, " especially in youth, a kind of chameleons, 
that take a tincture from the objects around us." The 
words of Seneca have gained the currency of an approved 
general maxim : — " Longum iter est per prsoepta, bre^e 
et efficax per exempUu" — r Your way by precepts is tedi- . 


008, by examples sliort and sure. Were our design to 
point out the influence which bad company has in vitiaXisg 
and ensnaring youth, the difficulty would not be so much 
in finding facts, as in selecting and classii^ng them. We 
should be bewildered in the mass of materials, and de- 
monstration itself might wear an air of triteness. 

How many, besides Julius Caesar and Charles XII. of 
Sweden, have been roused by the stoiy of the Macedonian 
Madman, to aspire after heroic fame ! They can, un- 
moved, contemplate the earth deluged with torrents of 
blood and misery, so th^ may but win and wear the 
wreaths of conquest. Nor does it rarely happen, that 
one fierce, daring spirit inflames a multitude, though in 
prosecuting their wild career, they are chiefly distinguished 
by petty exploits of mischief and extravagance. Promp- 
titude and enei^, when joined with eccentricity, often 
act with the power of enchantment on the impassioned 
minds of the young. Schiller's play, called the Robbers, 
was forbidden the stage in one town, because it was dis- 
covered that certain juvenile frequenters of the theatre 
had been instigated by it to bind themselves in a secret 
confederacy to go out into the woods, and live the life of 
freebooters. Thus we see, that not merely real characters, 
but fictitious also, which vividly represent them, possess 
and exert, in no small degree, this powerful species of 

But there are many who have none of the elements of 
ambition and enterprise in their nature, and of course can 
never be spurred to daring deeds. Tnie ; yet have they 


not other propentxlses, which expose them to peril in an 
opposite quarter 1 Are they not liable to be drawn into 
thelowhftuntft of ^ross sensuality? Gay and sprightly 
triflers iiiBt hang out the hire of pleasure on the borders of 
forbidden ground. Disnpation and luxury, deadly and 
odious as they are, and from their nature necessarily must 
be, cah assume a fair and tempting exterior, and call the 
unwary with the softness and melody of a Siren's voice. 
But it is commonly example which has the greatest force 
of attraction. Let one crafty decoy lead the way, and a 
traiu of dupes eagerly follow to their own ruin. ''lie," 
says the eloquent Bishop Taylor, "that means to be 
temperate, and avoid the crime and dishonour of being 
a drunkard, must not love to partake of the songs, or bear 
a port in the foolish scenes of laughter, which distract 
wisdom, and fright her from the company." 

There is a vagueness, a coldness, a bleak and wintry 
sterility, in the best abstract principles. ' We always 
prefer a pattern to a precept ; for should both be equally 
understood, which is seldom the case, they are never 
both equally felt. " Verbal teaching," says Dr. George 
Campbell, ** when in its highest perfection, comes as far 
short of good example, even for conveying just ideas of 
duty, as a verbal description of a man's person to those 
who never saw him. Would fall short of a masterly portrait 
or statue of him ; or as the most elegant account that 
could be given in words, of the figure, the situation, and 
the fortifications of, would fall short of an accu- 
fate map or model of it. And again, if, in order to avoid 


242 TBB rswhvmcu of bxampls. 

aome imnuneat dang^, or to attain some valuable end* I 
most dimb a steep and craggy moantain, to appearanoe 
inaooeisible* or must pursue my way through some lone 
and dreazy desert ; do but show me the print of a human 
foot, or rather point out others who appear to ha^e suc- 
cessfully engaged in the same arduous enterprise, and I 
shall sooner be preyailed on to attempt it than by ten 
thousand argumentB." 

Adverting again to the yean of chUdhood, the good 
example of parents has unquestionably the most powerful 
and benign influence ; and the very endearment and ten- 
derness intimately connected with the relati<m, aie suffi- 
cient to account for it. In the subsequent stages of human 
life, even the recollection ai those early impresuoas thrills 
the heart with feelings of pleasure, love, and veneration ; 
and, wakening anew, invests all the ol]gecti, scenes, and 
sentiments of that interesting period, with an exquisite and 
happy charm. *' How oftm," saith Bishop Hall, ** have 
I blessed the memory of those passages of experimental 
divinity, which I have heard from the mouth of my 
mother! What day did she pass without bong much 
engaged in private devotion ] Never have any lips read 
to me such feeling lectures of piety ; and her life and 
death were saint-like.'' Here indeed, we find the incul- 
cation of principle, and the exhibition of conwyondwit 
practice, conjointly touching and afiecting the opening 
faculties of the mind ; but it is easy to see, in the veiy 
tenure and cast of the language employed, how modi the 
efficacy of the former depended on the h^fHf P^ of tkt 

THS nrvLuvNOk op bxamflb. 94d 

latter. Augmtiiie, Hooker, Fkvel, Cectt, and nany 
others, have left teetimotiies in many lespecta amular to 
that whkh has jtut been recited. These memoriab thould 
lender Christian parents aniions to present religion to 
their children in a lovely and engaging form. Where it 
is not so presented, the creed and the commandments are 
tanght in vain. I recollect reading of a son, who once 
said to his father, " I have dimte evil, hut I hav» learned 
of you.*' 

Next in importance after parents, must he placed the 
character and spirit of those guardians and tutors, to 
whom the education of youth is entrusted. And when 
such as have this high and arduous duty to perform, 
p psse sn qualilies calculated to create and rivet attachment, 
what happy eflects may be aaticipBted i The most iqp- 
prapriate instanee which occurs to my mind, for iUus- 
tnting this point, is drawn from the life of the amiable 
and devout Fenelon. The Dake of Buigundy, when 
placed imder his care, was proud, perverse, irritable, 
obstinate, and violent He possessed a good capacity, 
and discovered a pitimptitude in acquiring all kinds of 
knowledge; hut the fieroeness and turbulence of his 
passions made him a terror to all around him. The 
lessons and the life of Fenebn, in a short time effected 
an eztraofdinaiy change in him. His talents were culti- 
vated and improved, his tempers- were softened and sub- 
dued, and be became not less agreeable as a gentleman, 
than accomplished as a prince. That much was in this 
case owing to the wisdom, dignity, candour, and mildness 


of bis eicelle&t tutor, has been readily admitted by all. 
Fenelon seems to have had a singular power of conci- 
Uatiog esteem and affection, by exhibiti]:^ virtue and 
{Hety arrayed in their most winning and attractive charms. 
Even Lord Peterborough, the sceptical wit, when he 
lodged with this prelate, was so interested in his conver- 
sation, that on his departure he exclaimed, *<If I stay 
here any longer, I shall become a Christian in spite of 
myself." But while those who are rising up in life are 
confessedly much influenced by' parents, guardians, and 
tutors, their characters, for the most part, are still more 
modified by the companions of their own rank and age. 
Ductile and pliant, they easily receive impressions ; ar- 
dent and unsuspecting, they are more r^uly to poisne 
a track opened for them, than to strike out one for them- 
selves. Our present concern is not to enter into any 
philosophical discussion of the cause of this, but m&sij 
to state the fact ; nor does it appear of any consequence, 
though some rare exceptions could be produced, while the 
general principle is established. 

From what has been above advanced, vre may fairly 
infer, that it is a matter of the highest moment for ail, 
but particularly the young, to choose those associates 
whose good character and good conduct have been both 
well known and well tried. Doubt and uncertainty on this 
head, ought instantly to check and repress intimaoes, 
though they should not form an absolute bar to aU inter- 
course. Let not this inference from the reasomng of the 
preceding pages, be branded with the charge of monastic 

rigour, or attributed to a system of discipline too devated 
and refined to be ever practicable. If the yalue of good 
examfde be once admitted, it is a fair conclusion that we 
ahoald be incessantly carefiil in the selection of our ac- 
quaintance and friends. To say or insinuate the contrary, 
is to aUow in the gross what is denied in the detail, — 
to build up with one hand, and pull down with the 

Bat grant that friends are to be chosen with due caution 
and care, -— what then 1 Why, it will faiily follow, that 
mere personal attractions and showy accomplishments, 
wit and spirit, humour and vivacity, where a sense of 
deUcacy and propriety is wanting, can set up very slender 
and inadecpiate claims to our regard , — that we are not to 
tnist ourselves with persons whose prominent qualities 
pleaae and fascinate only to ruin and destroy ; — and that 
it is dangeimis long to admire what we cannot, on moral 
grounds, really approve. 

But methinks the sprightly votary of pleasure, as yet 
anentang^ed in its toils, briskly replies, What then can we 
do, unless we had some wonder-woiking instrument, like 
the spear of Ithuriel, to detect evil at a touch, and make 
every fiend under a fair disguise, start up in his own like- 
ness in a moment 1 Such an instrument cannot be found : 
but a little good sense and consideration, mixed with 
patience, will serve tiie purpose, if not so speedily, qoito 
as well. The warnings which age and experience impart, 
are, at any rate, worthy to be weighed. It is a fact, that 
young people are apt to be charmed with those qualities 



which lie on fhe surface, which glitter to the eye, or cap- 
tirate the fancy, without taking time or measures to form 
any just estimate of those attributes which alone give ster- 
ling worth to the character. With more generosity- than 
wisdom, they give an easy credit to what is plausible ; and 
though assured that counterfeits abound, are usually too 
impatient and sanguine to aj^y a test by which they 
might soon be detected and exposed. If the hints wrhich 
have been given on this subject are accurate, the choice 
of fit associates is of incalculable importance to young 
persons of both sexes. Their principles, their tastes, their 
tempers, their habits, and pursuits, are all considerably 
affected and modified by the company they keep. 

The force of good example exerts an influence over as 
in books as well as in society, though not perhaps in aa 
equal degree.. The position, were it necessary, might 
easily be sustained by facts ; but few, it may be presume, 
will require any formal proof in a matter so evident. 
Taking the point for granted, there is thereforfethe same 
reason for the exercise of a discriminative judgment, and a 
virtuous delicacy, iii fixing ^e preferente we give to books, 
as to friends. He who actually shuns the company of debaa- 
ehe^ and blasphemers, yet can reHsh or even endure lewd- 
ness and blasphemy in the form of a novel or a narrative, has 
no real love to moral purity. Virtue, with him, is a thing 
of ceremony and show, of interest and expediency. Some 
writer has said, " History is philosophy, teaching by 
example. '* The assertion would be more correct as ap- 
plied to biography than to history ; for the latter is too 


general to answer the poipoee, at least* with equal effect ' 
Ziiograpby, wisdy chosen, supplies a kind of readingt pe- 
culiarly interesting^ and sdvantageous. It iumisbes the 
best specimens of excellence in every kind, die choicest 
products of knowledge and wisdom, virtue and pety, from 
every soil. Biography affords to youx^ people the means 
of forming a drclo of acquaintance, in eveiy respect un- 
eiceptionable. They ean converse with these freely, dis- 
miss or lecaU them at pleasure, without giving oflfence ; 
leceive their counsel and imbibe their ^irit, without en- 
gendeiing suspicion, or incurring the chaige of servili^. 
** How many pictures of the bravest men," says Cicero, 
'* have the Gtetk and Roman vmters left us, not only to 
eontsmplate, but likewise to imitate! These illustrious 
modris I always set before me, and have formed my con- 
dact by contemplating their virtues/' But in this age, 
and Christian country, we have brighter patterns of eveiy 
thing truly great and good, than the philosopher, whose 
language we have here repeated, had to boast. 

Ob the other hand, a good man may be instrumental in 
difiusing the fruits of righteousness, much farther than his 
most sanguine thoughts had anticipated. Has he genius 
aad intellectual energy? How powerfully he pleads the 
cause of truth ! While the productions of VoItait« or 
Hume are scattering poison, his efforts are successfully 
excited to heal and purify. Has he wealth ? How wide 
a surface does he make it to fertilise and cheer ! How 
much pressing misery does he remove-<>howmuch positive 
good communicate ! Has he civil authority ? The vicious 


are rc p waoed , ihe vfitaouA endouraged. In a word, while 
he if inte&t on supporting the sacred cause of freedom, or 
of maintaining and promoting, amidst the clamour of 
prejudice and the rancour of opposition, the claims of 
justice, of benevolence, and of religion, — his energy, his 
firmness, his activxty, his prudence and peiseTerance, are 
kindling in many other bosoms a similar spirit. His light 
so shines before men, that they see his good woi^, and 
glonfy God in the day of visitation. If such be the im- 
portance attached to example, how ought we to watch 
and guard our conduct ! Property may be lost and re- 
covered } but the^influence which character gives, if ever 
weakened and impaired, is seldcmi restored. What dih- 
gence, temperance, and circumspection, are necessaiy in 
those who draw many others in ih&i train ! Their virtues^ 
and graces are strong, ia exact proportion as they are 
bright and fair. To be eminently useful, they must be 
eminently exemplary. And can we witness a more inter- 
esting or animating sight, than a good man &iishing the 
course of life and beneficence, in ealm peace and un- 
clouded joyl Like a summer sun, he sinks below the 
horizon and disappears : but the excellence of his character 
remains, and sheds a mild and lovely radiance over the 
whole surrounding scene. 


The School-boy had bcefl rambling all the day, 
A careless, thoughtless idler, till the night 
Came on, and warned him homeward ; then he left 
The meadows where the morning had been passed, 
Chasing the butterfly, and took the road 
Toward the cottage where his mother dwelt : 
He had her parting blessing, and she watched 
Once more to breathe the welcome to her child, 
"Who sauntered lazily — ungrateful boy J 
Till deeper darkness came o'er sky and earth, 
And then he ran, till, almost breathless grown, 
He passed within the wicket-gate which led 
Into the village church-yard — then he paused. 
And earnestly looked round ; for o'er his head 
The gloomy cypress waved, and at his feet 
Lay the last bed of many a villager. 

But on again he pressed with quickened step, 
" Whistling aloud to keep his courage up." 
The bat came flapping by ; the ancient church 
Threw its deep shadows o'er the path he trod, 
-And the boy trembled like the aspen leaf ^ 


For now he fancied that all shapeless forms 
Came flitting by him, each with a bony hand. 
And motion as if threatening ; while a w^ht 
Unearthly pressed the satchel and the slate 
He strove lo keep within his grasp. The wind 
Played with the feather that adorned his cap. 
And seemed to whisper somethii^ horrible. 
The clouds had gathered thickly romid the moon. 
But now and then her Bght shone ^oriously 
Upon the sculptured tombs and humble graves. 
And in a moment all was dark again. 

O'eroome with terror, the pale boy sank down. 
And wildly gazed around him, tiH his eye 
Fell on a stone, on which these warning words 
Were carved : — 

" Time ! thou art flying rapidly — 

But whither art thou flying 1 " 
" To the grave — which youis will be — 

I wait not for the dying. 
In early youth you laughed at me. 

And, laughing, passed life's morning ; 
But in thy age I laugh at thee — 

Too late to give thee warnings" 

** Death ! thy shadowy form I see. 

The steps of Time punuing ; 
Like him, thou comest rapidly — ' 

What deed must thou be doing I **' 

THB 8CH0OL-BOT. 261 

" Mortal, my message is for thee — 

Thy chain to earth is rended ; ^ 

I bear thee to eternity — 
Prepare — thy ooiuse is ended ! ** 

Attentively the fainting boy perused 

The warning lines — then grew mi»e terrified ; 

For from the grave there seemed to rise a voice 

Repeating them, and telling him of time 

Mispent, of death approaching rapidly. 

And of the dark eternity that followed. 

His feaiB increased, till on the ground he lay 

Almost bereft of feeling and of sense — 

And there his mother found him .: 

From the damp church-yard sod ^e bore her child, 

Frightened to feel his clammy hands, and hear 

The sighs and sobs that from his bosom came ! 

'Twas strange the influence which that fearful hour 
Had o'er his future life -, for bom that night 
He was a thoughtful and industrious boy ! 
And still the memoiy of those warning words 
Bids him reflect — now that he is a man. 
And writes those feeble lines that others may. 




Who was unfortimately drowned, while bathmg, July 30, 182& 


« In the midBt of life we aie in death.*' 

Sad iUustration of this awfiil truCh 

Was thy imtiiiiely destfa, hunented yrmthl 

Cut off. In li£p's gay prime, when all did seem 

One day of sunshine, one eternal dream 

Of endless pleasure. — Passion rales the hour. 

And o'er Ae youthful heart retains^ power 

So stnmg, — m vain does reason interpose ; 

We raiely think our day to near itt clote^ 

Till sad experience comes, alas ! too late, 

And writes in tears of blood some tale of fate. 

Be this thy epitaph — thy memory's boast — 

That these who knew thee longest, loved thee most 

Thy heart was generous, unsuspecting, free, 

Thy i^rit noble, as a man's should be ; 

Love o'«r thy ardent mind held high controul, 

But friendship was the mirror of thy soul, 

Reflectiog truly bright those Tirtues dear. 

Which \mg shall daim tiie homage of a tear! 



** I shall sleep so sweetly, 

litid in my dwluMnie grare, Hwt they tfifrmwrlves 

Mi|^t enyy nie my rest i " 

Henry Kirkb White. 

** My own sweet home," thought Charles Lnmleigh, 
as he was whirled rapidly along on the stage coach, " with 
what pleasure shaB I again letura to thee ! and you too, 
my loved mother and asters, the pain of my s^ration 
from you b amply lepeiid by theddight I now experience." 
The coach here turned a sharp angle of lAie road, and he 
strained hia eyes in endeavouring to cUscem the fir- 
crowned httls of the seat of his forafathers. Fancy vividly 
painted a few f^int specks in the distance, tike the woods 
that encircled his modier's residence, and the tears started 
in his eyes as he gaxed. He vras but eighteen, and had 
not yet entered into that period of life, when ^he kind and 
yirtuous feetrngs of boyhood are silenced by the deceitful 


pleasures of man, or lost in tbe cares and attentions which 
too of^p oocQpy die breasts of the inhabhants of this sin- 
fiil world* 

ChaiksLomleigfa was, at te time my sti»y oommenoes, 
letnming from the onivenitf, where he had kept one tena ; 
and had there gained a chaiacter of attention and rega- 
laiity, which is often the rereise of diat given to students 
when first released from the fiuMaed thraldom of tiieir 
parents. From childhood it had been his wish to become 
a minister of the Protestant Church, and this intention had 
gradnally strengthened as he airifed to matoier years. He 
was heir to a comfortaMe fortune asd estates, which, fay 
the decease of his father, deroWed on him, on his entering 
his twenty-first year ; and in the event d his death before 
that time, they wonld become the property of his brother, 
a lad who had just entered the British Navy^ It was not 
therefore the love of gain which had inJhrtnoed him, but 
a sincere and earnest desire to become a promnligator of 
the Gospel, and thd blesoedwoids of eternal fifo. 

The coach had nowatiived at the town of D >> which 

was about two miles from SSmwoodt the seatef the Lum- 
leigh family $ and leaving his tnmk at the itta, he pro* 
oeeded on foot toward his boofe. During the few months 
he had been at Oxford, u visiUe change had taken place 
in his appearance : the ^tisit, transparent bkMai of youth 
had fied, and his cheek vras ashy pale ; his stepi ne loager 
ftwift KtA firm, was slow and fidteiiag, and ^ fine fom 
appeared weakened and attenuated by disease. In truth. 

A OXBTOa FB6|I MAh UFZ* 966 

he «wf iU« and on this Moonnt be had been pemilted to 
letviu dining the time devotid to study ; hut in by letten 
to his mother he had slightly mentioned it, and this in-* 
■tanoe eviaoed his oonalaat attachment to a beloved parent, 
in his endeavouis to ceneeal from her the iUneis that was 
■toirly ronsnming him« The path to Ehnwood lay over a 
high doitn for nearly hall a mile, and then woond round the 
mde of the hill, by many a picturesque lane and leafy 
aaveme, to the lodge of the Lumleigh residence* Charles 
'was not sany when he reached the entmnce o£ the plea- 
eant nad, which was partly shaded by the young leaves 
4if ApriL The sun, though early in the spdng, shone with 
fervour, and he fek Biyhaiwtwi by the heat ere he had half 
crossed the sand^ oonunon ; but in this cool retreat he felt 
BO aUemtion of his fatigue, and from aztreae weariness 
threw himself at the foot of a laxga oak on the borders af 
the lane, and in a few moments feU into a broken and 
nne aa y slumber* How long be had slept, he knew not, 
but the loud harking ef a dog awakened him. He hastily 
vncloaed his eyes, and beheld his faithful and attached 
OsMar leaping amrnd him, end by vaiioos gambols en- 
deavouring to call his attentien. He half arose, and Extend- 
ing his hand, the shaggy Newfoundland dog was instantly 
in his anns, and almost oveipoweied him with his caresses. 
At this moment, a sportive laugh seached his eais, and, 
looking up, be beheld two feir, youthlul countenances 
peeping at hibi cautiously through the branches of the 
hedge, and both beaming with sisterly afiection. ** Dear, 
dear girls, how long have you been waiting forme 1 I am 


quite aihamed that I sfaeuld have slept here ; but indeed 
I could not help it/' said Chmrles, as he asasted them to 
descend the bank* The sisters assuied him they had net 
waited long ; bat Caroline, the eldest, exclaimed vaaaxm^ 
ly, ** It "was wrong, yeiy wrong, dear Charles, to lie on the 
damp ground ; see, the dew still remains on the grass, and 
you have left the print of your arm on that wet moss. I 
find," she continned, smiling, '* Imust wateh my careless 
brother nanowly/' The happy trio resumed their widk, 
beguiling the time, hy inquiries and replies respecting the 
dear inhabitant of Elmwood, which was soon reachad, 
and in the warm embrace of his mother, Charles forgot his 
laborious studies, and consequeut illness. 

On the foUowing momung, Mrs. Lumleigh questimieii 
her son abont his health, with that minute attention which 
a tender parent only can feel and describe. Charles strove, 
as far as he was able, to calm those emotiens which it was 
evident his mother felt, and laughingly pointed to his glow- 
ing face, and asked if Ihat savoured of illness. Mrs. Lum- 
leigh shook her head, but did not reply : she knew too wdl 
that the crimson hue on his cheek was not that of health, 
and in spite of her son's renvmstcaQces, a messenger was 
despatched for a physician from 1)—* Dr. B. ^ net 
anive until evening, when Charles, who had fatigued him- 
sdf in rambling through the grounds with his sisters, was 
stretched languidly on a couch, and vainly endeavowiog 
to sleep, which seemed, when courted, to % from hiiB. 
The worthy physician was visibly affected at the sight of 
his. patient, and in a brokcu voice, after mature refleetioB. 

▲ 8KET0B rnOM BBAL UPS. S67 

at, th«t every attanlioa nust be pAid him,, in onkr to 
stay the prograts of the dtseaae, which had anived at aa 
tkurmuBog height v then promising to visit him the next day, 
wifth a aornyvifiil heart depaited. 

Mn. Lmdeigh, who had hmg known Doctor E., vras 
oonvinoed that he felt more than he ezpieMed ; and, with 
an aching heart, she knelt in fervent prayer to Him who 
^QM can cahn the tvoabled spirit* and heal the wounded . 
braaiL She knew that He ooMld raise her ehild from the 
¥ed of tnknets, or take him to hie own kingdom, and she 
ImmA in lerigmlion to his dispensations, what«ver thcgr 

A lew days had ^psed, and no change had taken plaM 
in the diaorder of the yonthfid snflbrer; but his mother 
and all the inhabitants of £lmwood were fearful that he 
was hastenittg to *' that bonma from whence no traveller 
ivlBins/' On thenin^ day dierewas a fearful alteratiea 
in fan appearanee ; his eyes weie sunk, and aeazoely couU 
he be raised in his bed ; whflst his deep^ hoUow,^ and 
facqaeat fits of coogfaing, were the only sooads that 
echoed thvoogh the mansion. Sleep alone afiaided a 
tnmsieat cessation f raospain ; and daring a short ahunbar 
Dr. R. visited him. His entraaee awoke him» but he 
eonftinoed nlent, and listened to the convenatioii of those 
aiaund. The voaoesof the speakessweiesolow, thathe 
eoald oaty faear a few words: this sentence distinc% 
reached him: " He never can leoover; he may finger fer 
some time, though I should think not mote than a few 
vieeka.'' The veiea Ihcn oeaaed» smI Chafka feaUy 



called to his motber, whdi, with Pi. E., iDstantly ap- 
proacheil the bed. He •exAeoded his hand to the latter» 
and in a treibulottft vmoe said, " ^^ I thabk yoa for what 
I have just heaid ; I will not deceive you, I have not 
slept, and your ossuxanoes that I shall never recover have 
been listened to with greedy attention by me. 1 again 
repeat, I am thankful to you for informing me of my 
danger. Until now, I had afewiaint hopes that I might 
have lived some years bnger. I imow I have too fbndly 
dung to this world, vidien I should have &DBd my thoughts 
on amtther ; but God^ in his iafinite mercyy will, I trust, 
forgive the sina of a gailt^, erring moctal, like mysetf " — i 
here a severe fit of coughing pradaded the possihttity of 
hisftnrther speaking, -and he sunk exhausted en the pillow; 
Still his thoughtsmtumed to the words he at fiist heardu 
"Then I mu&t-dse," he mentally exdaimed. ** Newer 
again shall' I behold the fnends o£ niy youth ^^ never/ 
never 1 Oh/ what a'senae of dreaiinesS'does it convey to 
my heart! " and- a ^aw; a^reiy few tears felLat theidesb 
<* But what am; I gneving fori lOol moittni..the a^ra* 
tion (mm this world, and the-dqwivations of itsfdeasmea-*- 
its few transient pkasuies.) No,9a 1 it is not thut 1 care 
for. Wherefore, then, dol mourn t O God I look down 
on ne, thy gvilty creatore, aad shed the light of thy niev» 
dfiil countenance upon met toenaUe me to vrithstand the 
temptatkaisTthatnew'assailme." This shmrt, though fer* 
vent p»^,calmed< his peiCuihation» and ho'fellintaa 
akonbeiV'^hioh iaaiedr foa many houn* 

lt!was'late in the -eveuing when he- awoke, and softlf 


-wiiAidrffwiiig the ourtain, beheld his mother wfttching by 
the side of his bed : in her hand she held a watch, and a^ 
glass of medicine stood by her. She tenderly raised it to^ 
his lips, at the same time saying, *' It will do you much 
good, deer Charies ; Dr« R. assures me it will ease the 
pain that torments you." Her son unhesitatingly swal* 
lowed it, and when he had finished it, rallied, — " T» 
oUige yon, my dearest mother, I will tidw any thing ; but 
it b all in vain : it is like fanning a £bw expiring embers^ 
which, though th^ bum for a time, aie quickly quenched^ 
and soon die away." The soporific draught he had taken 
he soon felt the inlhisnce of, and, with a languid smile^ 
said he oeukl talk no longer. - His sleep now lasted until 
the sua. had risen far above the horiion, and shed streams 
of golden light through the closed shnttore of die epait^ 
meat. CaroUne Lumleigh was seated near the bed, and 
w^ tears o£ unfeigned joy when she heard thecheeiful 
sound- of- her brother's yoiee< Hc spoke now in a clears 
finn tonis, and expnssed a wish to be moved to a sofe in 
the next apartment ; but this lequest was- not deemed 
prudent to be oompUad with, until the anwai of Dr. R. 
ImpatieKdy Charles watod the physician's visiu 

' Ai length his well-known step was heard enterix% 
the room, and the patient was satisfied at being allowed 
to quit- his bed.' ^pported by his mother and Dr. R., 
he was pieced on a couch, whicfa. was drawn near the 
open window^ It was a bioatttifttl altemodnin May, and 
the odour of a thousand blMioms stoie heavily throuif^ 
the casement. * ' What a kwely world is this V* 


Charies, m, resting his head on Hft mother^s bosom, liis 

9fn wandered over Ihe aeene ; *< bat its beauties are 

triffng when compared to those of that hflavei^ tingdom 

which I am fiist approaching. Na^, do not we^, clearest 

mother,*^ he eontixraed, as her waim tears iell vapidly on 

his face ; *' gnete not for me ; I am rescued to die. I 

did once hope that I might live to be a cosifoit to 3rou and 

a friend to my dear sialers ; bat Hemry, Ikoow, wiUnever 

foiget them. In his breast the seeds of virtue have, I trust, 

taken sucli dei^ roet^ as' ikke wiH not speedily eradicate. 

Tell him, from me, as my last request, to remember the 

doctrines of oar blesMd hotd ; for throagfa the knowledge 

of his laws, and a desire to walk in bis paths, can we 

alone hope to liae %> the life immortal in heaven.'^ He 

was here tnterrapted by-* the enliance of his tw» sisteis. 

They had been waadeiing thioogk tiie groundt, 'by tiieit 

brother's wish, to find a few early nees. The iayahd 

received them gratefalfy; bait he^soen- relapeed-into <o- 

lence, and appeared intently waAdiing te depasture 

of the sun behind ^ moimtaina of Us aaftne county. 

When it had sunk from his view, he turned to the dear 

relatives who ssA h^ hoim» and arid, *f I shall nenier see 

that bright Inminuy rise again. Death approaohes ; hot 

I do not tremble. My aisters, I have a wy fooliah wish, 

sdll I know it w31 be gratified ; it is» that yott ptaoa a 

rose upon ay grave, ivisSia^ they remain in bloom* And 

BOW, farewell! , 9Ib8S yon— bless yo« a]l{'"o^A ^Hat 

smile illumed Im^ lips, which morcdas il in ptayer;— 

thG;ir.wfereaoo»sfiUed— the bUssful soul had Bed ! 


For nearly half a century, a cluster of blushing roses 
were, during the summer months, thrown across the urn 
that marked the grave of Charles Lumleigh; but the 
flowers themselves, and the hand that placed them, are 
returned to dust, like him who sleeps beneath the sod. 

Combe Royal, Devon. 



Maiden ! the blooms of haj^ness surround thee ; 

The world's bright side, like thy young visions fair, 
Gay and undonded, smile in raptures round thee. 

With joys uaoOBScioai of encroaching care ; 
The poesy of Hfe hath sweetly found thee — 

Ah ! would thy nmsfaine had no donds to share. 
And the young fkywen with which ber joys have crowned 

Would they were dreams as lasting as they're fair. 
But Nature, Muden, hath its winter ;~-Care, 

Or more or less, in ambush waits to wound thee. 
Then cheat thy gentle heart with no frail token 

From witdiing Hope-**^ better joys pursue : 
I know her closest bonds are easy broken, 

And feel the picture I have drawn too true. 



[F^om the Spanish of Riqja.] 

Fabio ! time pbins, ao daolate tsd diear. 

And this aatiqiie rude Mil, was onoe renowned 
Italica the GladI EstabUshed here 

Was Scqno's eonquering cokmy. Look rafaml : 
Nought now but eromUmg^ firagneato strew^e gronad ; 
Fallen Ues the pomp of her feared wall, the last 
Sole piteous relic of her people, olaaaed 
With gods in war ! What trophiea now but tomtaa 
Survive their memoriea, 'midst whose ivied glooms 
Shades of high title wander) This hme plain 

Was once a square, — ^a temple towered <» tiiat^ — 
Of both, the dim foundaitioiia aearoe remain : 
The Bumptaoos baths are ajdies ; eveij gust 
Whirls them away with the gymnaainm's dust; 


And towers that mocked the ttonn m haughty state. 
Have long since sunk beneath their own vaat weight ! 

This shattered amphitheatre, that rose 

In impioas gratitude to gods, whose shame 
The odious elder and rank weed proclaim, 
Now to a tragic stage transfigured, shows 
A faiiy fable — a romance. How grand 
Was once its glory, and how absolute 
Its ruin is! How wild a waste of sand 

Fills its void circus ! Whence the loud salute 
Of multitudes ascended, glides the brute 
To its accustomed lair. 
But Where's the naked gladiatw? — where 
The mighty wrestler 1 Vanished ! and the hymn 
Of joyous crowds is changed for silence dim. 
Yet here, e'en here, fierce Time exhibits still 
Scenes that with such amaze the s{»rit fill. 
That, whilst the present awes the gaae, it hears 
Voices of sorrow breathed from by-gone years ! 

Here was that bolt of battle bom to Rome, 
The father of his eouktty, pride of Spain, 

Traja3a, the hapf^ and the good ! to whom 
The mute earth bowed, t<^oicing in his chain. 

From the sun's eaalem crsdSe to his grave 

In the hi West, beyond the Gadite wave. 

The ivoiy cradles that but yesterday 
Rocked Theodosius at his biith adeep, 


Adiiaa and SUius, now are worn away. 

And o'er the spot funereal ivies weep. 
Of rofics, laurels, and sweet jasmines then 
Gay looked the gardens, where the dead morass - 

Now stagnates, and the gadding bramUes creep : 
The palace built for Caesar, lies, alas ! 
Roofless, and wide o'er capilyd and fiieae 
The lively lizard suns itself ait ease : — 
Palaces, gardens, Cosan, all are fled. 
And even the stones on which their names were 

Fabio, if yet thou weep'st not, cast thfaie eye 

Down those void streets, these shattered mttbles 
mark — 

Column, proud statue, and triumjrfial arc» 
Hurled down by Nemesis the strong, to lie 
Where deep unwhispering silence and chill gkwm 
Their lords of old celebrity entomb. 
Even thus I figure, in her stori^ fall, , 
Troy the divine, e*en thus her heaven-bnUt wall 
Rent like a garment ; and thus thee, proud Rome, 
Land of brave heroes and great kings, to whom 
Scarce the name stays ; and thus I picture thee. 

Whom equal laws availed not, darling pile 
Of Pallas, wisdom-loving Athens ! — ye 
Were yesterday the envy of all states ; 

To-day — woe, woe the while — 
Ashes and mighty solitudes ! — tlw Fates 


Heverenoed you not, nor aught availed joa then — 
Atheni, fhy aophiita f Rome, thy mailed men ! 

But why ihonld fancy rava io fv to saek 

Fresh food for eotrow, better fbrnished here? 
This less example will suffice to speak 

Of wail and weeping : to her sight appear 
Still on this hannted ground the smoke, the blaie, 

Altar, and victim ; still hoaise aocents drear, 
Breathed by its Oemna, people all the place 
with hoaiy tales and superstitions gray : 

The neighbouring shepherds oft at midnight hear 
A mournful, melancholy Toice, that cries-— 

« Fallen is Itatica 1 "--" Italka 1 " 
The weeping echo of the wood replies, 

" Fallen is Italica I " and sad, they say. 
The name of fair Italica o'erthrown, 
'Midst the lone ruins wakes the hollow groan 
Of thousand shades illustrious, till their fears 
And holy \^orror yield to pitjring tears. 

Forlorn Italica ! this cypress crown. 

Which as a grateful visiter I owe 
Thy sacred manes, to thy past renown 

I conaecrale with weeping : so ma/st thou, 
For the funereal ashes in whose praise 
This sweet scene's mournful elegy I raise, 
KeceiTe the pious tribute I bestow ; 
For my fond plaints kind usuiy allow : 


OPB TO nu mwnm or itauca. 

Grant me to we Giiimin the dma^ 

Thy maitjT^ft holj bOMi ; ah! show aoMe ago 

Of hk dear tomb, and I with pious piide 

Win strew with teas aad flofwos dK lodb thai hide 

His blest saroophagat ! B«t mh my pcayer 

Asks the sde solaoe iHuch thoa shouldst not ^are^ — 

The only btiss stem Fate wodd not destny. 

His lovdy lelics and thine own enjoy. 

For the worid's enTy, and reelect of aH 

Who, like me« visit. Id deplore your (all I 




" But the ship was now ixk the midst of the sea> tossed with 
waves, for flie wind was contrary." 

St. MatthiWi Chap. xir. Ver. S4. 

Fear was within the tossing baik. 
When stormy winds grew loud, 

A.nd waves came rolling high and dark, 
And the tall mast was bowed. 

And men stood breathless in their dread. 

And baffled in their skill — 
But One was there, who rose and said 

To the wild sea. Be stiU ! 

And the wind ceased — ^it ceased — ^that word 
Passed through the gloomy sky ; 

The troubled billows knew their Lord, 
And sank beneath his eye. 


And ■faimber Bellied on the deep, 

And silenoe on the blast. 
At when the lighteons falls asleep, 

When death's fierce throes are past. 

Thoa that didst rule the angry hour, 
And tame the tempest's mood, — 

Oh! send thy S[nrit forth in power. 
O'er our dark souls to Inood ! 

Thou that didst bow the billow's pride. 

Thy mandates to fulfil, — 
So speak to passion's raging tide. 

Speak and say,— Peace, be still ! 




Whin the French RefolutWB broke out in 1199, 1 had 
just completod my Slst year, and left the acadeniic bowerg 
of Cambridge to travel for a few yean over the Contiiient. 
Proud of being a naitlve of the only free ooimtiyiB Europe, 
my nund fbll of the early deeds of Greece and Rome, and 
my imagination seduced by visions of ideal perfection and 
happiness, 1 heiied with transport what I then conottved 
tiie ftnt dawn of liberty in France, and giving up all 
thought of traveUSng farth^, immediately set off for Paris, 
there to v^ateh and study the mighty workings ol a pec^le 
I had pictured to myself as shaking off, by one sudden 
and snUime eflbrt, the rivetted ehains of despotism and 

The numerous letters of introduction I was furnished 
with, procured me an admittanoe into the best society, 
and I had foil opportunities of becoming acquainted with 
the feelings of the d^feront parties which then divided the 
capital. The majority of the nobility and cfergy I saw 
were panic-strack. The inciedttloiis derision with u4uch 



theytiMledUieibrtdaDOiirtntiattofpQhliefeel^ boob 
gave way to that aljoct hu and fiital UKBCtta&aa, wludi 
marked theb coodnct duiing aU the itages of the Berohi- 
tbn ; injudkioiiily makmg a fiunt lemirtanrft one day» and 
the next giving up every thing as lost, when a moderale 
and cheerful compliance in the beginning, j<niied t9 a 
becoming and dignified finnneaa, would have piewrved 
them against farther encroachments. The minority, oou'* 
Bisting mostly of men who, in the old " r^gime^" wonkl 
have lived out their luxurious and useless life unnotioed, now 
courted popularity and OuneattheezpaneoCtheif pnvfleges: 
yet a few were sincere. Some of the " haute noltese" feh 
real, not affected, sorrow for the sHuatioii of their monarch, 
and did not cloak, undn an hypocritical xeal for tfae *^wmm»j 
their regret at hMing those o^ressive pdvileges whidi Um^ 
had looked upon as theim by divine and unalienable right 
They boldly rallied round their kug, and with praiseworthy, 
though ifl-judged warmth, hwried him and his fumtj into 
measores which proved their ruin. Many^ on the other 
hand, joined the ranks of the people from a heart-liBit k»fe 
for liberty. Some of these it was my good foctonotokaoir* 
With anxiety have I watched their bdlHant, but shoit and 
stormy, career ; beheld them the idd, then the soomof the 
mob ; generously sacrificing dutinetions and fottane at the 
altar of liber^, and then polhitix^ it with their bhied. 
But none excited in me such sympathy as the young CMBt 
Eugene St. George. X met him first at the hoaae of one 
of the leading members of the ConslitueiiA AmuHijt 
^rnhae I heard him eaqpoaing, with all the foioa of troth ittl 


eloqnttiioe, the aboMi of goventnieat, tneing deipotkm 
Ummgh all its stages, and firing ffmcf bosom with the 
flaaw irhioh burnt in his own. 

Since that time 36 years hare rolled over my head, and 
left tnu»s of their passage* The changes which I have 
seen, and the vidssitades which haive fallen to my lot, 
faave sohersd my ftehngs ; bat though made much wiser 
BOW by sad experienoe, I must say that never, no, not 
even in the days of my childhood, under the shade of the 
pitemal loof, did I spend such a deKgfatful year. The 
▼isioiis of my youth were about to be xealned ; I saw a 
gnat nation happy and iiee, possessed with new powers ; 
I saw all France, as I thought, uniting with one soul to 
lay the eternal foundation of future prosperity. In this 
feverish state of existenoe, I forgot parents, friends, and 
oountiy , and drank deep of ^ intoxicating cup that threw 
a whole people into a frantic and delirious joy. But that 
happiness was short as it was vivid. I saw *my friend 
become one of the leaden of the popular party, and en- 
joyed his triumph as if it had been my own. But soon 
libe bright perspective we had conjured up began to lower: 
division, ambition, and party-spirit, soon undermined the 
laiiy fabric which was to have stood for ages. But why 
repeat wiiat I wish I could forget for ever. Three yean 
passed away, and the next saw the king of France a pri- 
aoaer, and his life at the mercy of an infuriated and misled 
mdbk My finead made a last and noble, but unavailittg, 
effort to save him $ he pourtrayed vriith almost prophetic 
wfka, the evils which threatened his country, the days of 

97S A TALS or VHB wmwMcu «KV9I.|m«N* 

urf blood wlnob wero to foUoip; b«t tbe ydOsaf 
Uood-tfiirity moDileffi dio««$d Us wiioo. 

Tho king's blood was shod «« llio seiMd. tnd odm 
jfterthoynsooidooodiipoiibisiiflfandpf.. HyfrmHwu 
abm «p in St« P«l«sgi« ; tbero I mm lum slUl bwnng 
with tbe aomo love for bio owmtfy, but a {HofiMttd nd« 
ooM fiUod bis boorit and bftving loot «U hope of being tbo 
foploiwr of Ubor^» bemdyasiHrad totbogkwy of boiiigow 
of her waiters, 

Aroimd him I met tbe m^ I bad onoo aubsiiied is tbe 
briUiaitf circles of Paiis. With ^em X aptfit miay a 
sadly pfeasiiig bo«r» and someiiiiies abnofk foigot we inn 
in a pittOQf But tb<^ dfoppod off one ate anotbec- 
£agene*s torn came, a«d bo was mbjoeted to tbe mAcktiy 
of an igiMnunioii^ trial in tbe voiy ball wbflie his aoma 
bad a»ee boen repeated with pmIs of apid«i]ae.**^He 
flpoke> and kit a moideM, ^ m««ly iwoa of bio voio^ 
his powerful appeal to tbe beittor faeUnsiof tbe mnMitade 
aioiOMl bim. s«wiod to nw^ bii jttdg9» a»d a ngp i ad bip 
fate* But ii waa on^ for a'moment^ H^ bmid bia con- 
demnittion ynih indi£toooe, aiid g»theriiig 19 all bis 
epeigy into one tost bwst of eto^uense, be di«w a tesific 
pictwe of tbe feign of aniMio^y«xid blood wbaeb bad blait«d 
all the hopes of libera* and made biiooantiydewbtt^: 
fop now be becaiBe m hia turn a. judgo» — ba d^noiawwd 
to Urn SMguinaiy tyranta of Ffanoei ik» aigiMl i«trib«to 
w4Mi^ iwailfMl them* and vowed thsm to tbe egec r atiiQ^ 
of posterify, and to tbe vev^pMHoo of 0«d» idiote allw 
thoy bad ovenbrown. 


I west to the prifon early the next moming *. he le^ 
ceived me with a cheerftil look* ** I have now paid my 
debt to my oonntiy/' laid he, ** and 1 die content. I 
now fee my enor« The Fiench were not made for 
liber^. May they won repent, and return to thoie wiie 
laetittttioni and wholeiome political rartrainta, without 
which anarchy will ever reign under the name of freedom, 
and deluge the land with blood. I have long expected 
my fate, and might have avoided it by eeeking a reiuge 
in England} but I could not live out of my country. 
Go, leave thia guilty, thia unhappy land : return to your 
own country: my on^ regret in dying it, not to have 
made mine what youm i»— -great, glorioua, and free." 

It waa the custom, during thoee unhappy times, when 
a victim waa to be executed, for all the inmates of the 
prison to meet, and endeavour to forget, in the festivity of 
a banquet, the fate of the friend they were about to lose, 
and the uncertainty of their own. The gloomy walls of 
the prison weie now decked with flowers, and a large 
table was covered with the few luxuries which the ava- 
fioe of the jailor had been bribed to procure. Eugene 
was seated at the head of the table. It wu affecting to 
see those prisoners, of eveiy age and sex and station, 
all striving, by delicate and affisctionate attentions, to 
cheer the last hours of his existence. In spite of their 
situation, the national vivacity burst through the clouds 
of sorrow, and their pale and Atrrowed cheeks were illu- 
minated by transient beams of gladness. Instead of a 
funereal repast, it seemed as if a &ast was celebrating to 

S74 A TAiM or rn pkknch rktoLutiov. 

weletiiie tbe idaiii of a dear and long-lort friend. S^ios 
of wit, ioiigi» and imisic, made tlie hows % qaickijf , id 
a maiuMr inoonceivable to thoie wbo hatve not been tye- 
witnemi of tlie wckleemew of death which the victims of 
tiie BfOrohHiim unhappily alinoet aiways manifested. 

The hov of eepaialiaii came. Eugene, who had till 
then hean the life of the party, and whose vivacity had at 
timee betivfed even me, an EngHshman, into a momen- 
taiy f orgetfbfaMSi of his impendiag fete, assomed fte m 
of meek fwigaation winch became sncA a moment. He 
bade farewell to all with aflectifm, gavea lew commisaaDS, 
distribated some money among Ae servanti and smly 
turnkeys, who fngot for a while the brutal cant of the 
patriots of the day, and sobbed aload as he stepped into 
the condemned cart. I asked and obtained leave from 
the municipal officer to ac c o m p any him. I endeavoured 
to imitate the cheeiiul look of resignation of my friend, 
and to check my tears till he should no longer be tiiere to 
witness them ; but a trial severertiian death awaited him. 
We had just left tiie prison, when we heard tiie sfariekB 
of a female straggling in the midst of a troop of men and 
women, who, in their own coarse but well-meanxng way, 
€ndeavottied to quiet and console her. But, bnrsdng 
loose from their hands, and rushing to the cart, die 
sprung upon it, and dung to St. George. It was his 
rister. She had left Paris to go to England, hoping her 
brother would soon follow her. He had often said to me, 
that ihe thought that by this time the sole surviving lelie 
of liis house was safe, had taken away all the bitterness 


of 6mA. But iIm- heard ihot k«r brolhir had iMra tr- 
mted ; tha flew back to Pane, and having vainly applied 
at the prifon for adanuioa, fihe had, with the resolution 
of deapair, waited for •evavd days, watbhing for her bro^ 
tker, near the gale, at the hour when the condemned cart 
uaoally went to the place of execution. That day she 
had as usual placed heiaelf then, and recognising her 
bioliher, she had mAed toward hini> and newching oon- 
wiahuly to him. 

80 unexpected an intsrfuption to ite gloomy sQeaoe 
fHufihuiuaUy vrignad during those prooassmns, softened 
tlM rugged foatursa of the soUUers. Thowonen too, who 
aaemed to have pr ese r n ed of the fadings of their sex none 
buit a suseeplibiUty of instinctive and sudden bunis of 
•amnbility, often expr e s se d in a coarse but ene^getio Ian- 
guage» now took her part, sqring, that though she was 
the sister of an enemy of the people, ahe was too young 
and too beautiiul to go to the guillotine. 

8t Oeesge gUMd upon the lovely form of his sister, 
whe had abnest fisinted in his anna ; all his fortitude for* 
sodk him, and, sobbing like a child, he entieeted those 
aimmd him to take her eC They attempted to pull' 
her away ; but she chmg to the cart with the energy of 
despair, and then throwing henelf in the mwi at the 
foel of the sordid vnetehes who composed the escort, she 
essbraced their knees:— "Oh! save him! save him!" 
she cried; ** but no 1 his fote is foied ; then let-me die 
with faun r' The mnufeipal officer told her, she coultf 

279 A rAiM OF ras noNca kbtolvtiox. 

not be gttifltiiifiH, m ihe htd net commitled trnj ^tinie. 
** IVn/' laid iho, **limSL &rae you fo let me die wiA 
him," and she immediately filled the air with cries of 
"Viveleroir' Atdus delealed name, the momentaiy 
intwMt ihe had eicifted, vaaiihed. She was loaded widi 
the most revolting abnae fay the same degraded women 
who befoitt had taken her pail. The ntelandicdy pro- 
ceaoon again mened on. She threw her eim rauad her 
hrother*s neck, with a look whieh a atianger to die scene 
■Mght hate mistaken far that of joy. 

In thoM days of tener, Paris ineaented the aspect of 
a laige city lendeied desolate by some diie pesdlence, or 
dwoitcd by its inhalntants* Every window, e?e^ shop 
was closed on the way te the guSloBne. Ko soond was 
heaid ; no being was seoi to dlslari>, 1)y the noiee of ha 
Heps, the death-lihe stilioem of ^lOBe forsaken streets. 
The appalling silence was inte w ttpted only by the ibra- 
cioosand abandoned creatures who daily attended, with 
cwaes and execrations, the victims to the scene of their 
last soHering. These now thronged round the cart, and 
with savage joy insulted the prisoners as they, one by 
one, ascended the steps whieh led to the scafiold. One 
of these monsters spit in the fetce of St. Geoige's sister, 
and rudely tore off the handkerchief which covered her 
neck. A faint blush passed over her pale features: ske 
turned to the vmman, and, with a smile of angelie street- 
ness, said to her, "My good woman, insult meif yoa 
wiU ; but do not expose, my person : give me back the 

A TALI or THB WKMm^ ssroLOTioir* 377 

handkerohigf." The ftny wtt awwl by )ier mild dignity, 
and, without faying % wmd, raplaoed th« shawl on her 

When all the priiOBen wwe on the icaflbld, they em- 
braced each other. St^Geofgewningmyhaodiniilence; 
his sister graoefully ptcsented to me hen, which I piessed 
to my heart A iilmcame over my sigfa^— I sawnomore : 
trat oh I that Boiiodl— methinks I hear it still; it was 
that of the aie which teminated tiieir eastesee* I heard 
no more, but felt myself ooveied with their blood. I grew 
dizqr, and reeled back with honor, and should have fallen, 
had not a soldier, more humane than the rest, supported 
me* A flood of tears came at last to my relief, -^Ireoo- 
Yored the consdousnem of my situation,— I flew away 
from that horrible spectacle, and the next di^ <|aitted for 
ever a land where liberty was outraged by every sort of 
crime committed in her T \q™^> t 

T« £.8. 




Tns »mAinerbge«e is^iube^ — ^ iigJit waves sleep 
Oo fthe VMQfh bofi^m <^ thi^ fjUeiit.d^p ; 
Its boundless flood ezpejodingiiii^ ^jni,fi^f 
Meet q^mbol of a blessed etemitj ! 
Bathed in the lustre of the sinking beam. 
Far as mine esye can reach, the waters gleam. 
Unnumbered dyes of ever-changing hue. 
Still intermingling with the clear sea-blue ; 
There the sweet sapphire's violet hues are seen. 
The pure reiqplendence of the emerald green ; 
And there the amethyst's pale purple glows, 
The ruby there, a flood of crimson, flows. 
Ah ! who could deem, amidst so soft a scene, 
That storms could ever vex that sea serene, 
Pure as the prayer of infancy, and mild 
As the calm slumber of a slicing child 1 

sunai ov ah rwmnno mbib* 979 

Mttik wfatt% tkt wmiaK orb^ witk goUni fine^ 
Haifa tinged the kndBf • fightly tapering ipiite« 
And through the gmv* 6f daik w pnk hfii yew» 
Showen broken winheiine ttn tiie flowen that ttniw 
The fresh green ndf and tbon nwinfinfliwn ibad 
Their natiTe fiagnaee o'er the mttie d«ad« 
Here pauM to ponder o'er the graj gra3vo-ilona» 
And in the doom of othen* read thine own : 
Yon lowly naBml, which nd atetion rean. 
And hallows with the saerifioa of tetii» 
If all that points where yoath or beaafty's Uoom 
Rests in the drear r se cno a of the toBA<^ 
Sleeps the deep aieop, when all thatchaflnad baftne 
Is known no.loBger» and bebred no B¥ire» 
Yet hush, pale mourner ! cease thy frentie prayer. 
To share hit grave, whose heart Ihou canst not share ; 
If all in vain the sun of nature glows. 
To break the torpor of that chill vepoae, 
A brighter Sun diviner beams shall shed, 
Pieroe the dull tomb, and burst upon the dead. 
To light and life the slumbererthen shall start. 
Fire in his eye, and npture in his heart. 
And soar on senph wing to realms more fur : 
Live as he lived, and thou shalt meet him there. 

Now the broad son dedimng, slowly dips 
Beneath th' horizon, in a last edipee. 
As if he longed to rest his burning head 
On the cooL pillow of h» ocean bed ; 


The doadi that windered o'er the eipanae of heaven. 

By the light bieeze in fair diaoider driven. 

Their cano{»7 of brightness ronnd him fling, 

A last doe homage to their paitiag king. 

As if reluctant to resign his sway, 

A moment lingering ere he &des away. 

He beams his bright farewell o'er ocean's breast. 

Eludes the straining gaae, and sinks to rest. 

So pass thy glories. Earth : like that pure ray. 

Art, valour, genius, dazzle and decay. 

And while again that radiant sun shaU rise. 

And re-assume the sceptre of the skies. 

Thou, short-lived man I thy dream of spieodour o'er, 

Shalt sink and set— to rise on earth no more* 


Paraphntfed fMm the t^tli PmSta, 


We sat US down !rf BUM't ititttM, 

And dieuned irttf-itdaiftilig' mmoij*9^dmtm ^ 

And dark thongblB b'er cmr tplrits ($k«pt 

Of Si(Hi--^nd fW tvcjtt} we W0|it I 

Our haipt upon the wilky«n hang, 

Silent, and tnnelessi VhA tmstnmg ; 

For they who wrought our pains and wrongs, 

Ask'd us for Sion's pleasant songs. 

How can we sing Jehovah's praise 
To those who Baal's altan raise 1 
How warhle Judah's free-hora h^mns. 
With Babel's £stteis on our limbs 1 
How chaunt thy hyst 4ear Father Laody 
To strangers on a fore^ strand 1 
Ah, no ! we'll bear griefs keenest sting. 
But dare not Sion's anthems sing. 



Place m when Shanm's ram Uoir ; 
Place OS when Siloe's walen flonr; 
Place «■ on Lebanoiiy thai wanres 
llsoedan o'er our fttben* gravea ; 
Place iiSQ|Km dial holy moant. 
Where Btaiida the temple, gtoams the fount ; 
And hme and joj ihall looae our tongaeii 
To waiUe Sion's pteatant aongs. 

If I ihoold e'er, earth's foirest gem. 
Forget thee, O Jerusalem ! 
May my right head feiget it« shiU 
To wake the slorobering lyn al will ! 
If from my heart, e'en when most gay. 
Thy memoiy e'er should fiide away, 
May my tongue rest within my head. 
Mute as the voices of the dead 1 

Remember, O remember, Lord, 
In that day Edom's race abhoned ; 
When once again o'er Salem's towers. 
The sun of joy its radiance pours, 
Forget not them whose hateful ay 
Hose bud and fiendlilLe to the sky, — 
*'Be that unholy city crushed, 
Raae, rase it even to the dost I" 

TBB LARK. 79$ 

Danghter of Babylon, tlie hour 
Isoomiiig that iball bam thy povrar. 
The Penian wwotA ihall make diee gioan, 
The Mede shaU fiU B^khaar'a thtone : 
Blest shall he be who bida thee np 
The cap thou held'st toSakm's vip. 
And mocks thee, veqang o'er the aloiiea 
Bed with thy cfafldnn's bleedng bones. 


Seb how the lark asiiends on higft, 

And tunes hb Htde thiioat 1o pay 
His tribute to (he makaag sky, 

His welcome to the ol!> df day. 

The dews fall lightly on his wings. 
And all their soothing inflaence shed ; 

And Nature biiii him as he sings. 
While iisi% from her mountain bed. 

May joy like yonder laik's be mine, 
The joy <tf heart that knows not sorrow ; 

Reposing with the dafn decfine. 
And gaily waking with Uw morrow. 



Let not ambitioii mock tiieir useful toil. 
Their homely joys. " 


Those who haw nevor visited IneiaDd* can .«caioely 
fn>m acoitect idea of an Izioh cabip..- To. me, an Eng- 
tiiATnun,, bora and edvcated in oneiof th0.niQst ftetifiii 
and happy countifis of s^ oonntiqry thena aj^eaied ao fast 
a diflferenoe between the cottages to which I had been 
accustomed, and those that came viMkr my notioe during 
a recent visit to the sister land, . that for a tine I could 
scarcely oonoeive it^possible for venfoit ot ooBlentaient to 
dwell within their walls. But' there easts ae evil wilhaat 
its counterbalancing good ; and the inhabitants of those 
day-built huts have aanfeomnMseC eqeyasi^ to make 
amends for the distresses and diffieullies thitt fiess widi 
peculiar haidship upon then. £d9calion> andw-^lvhstis 
of snob vital impQrtanoe*^re2^g«Mtt edttca^is^ is npidlf 
inorawiing among this hgfat hearted, uweflectmg people. 

Vtttt TO AM IftlBH CABIir. 286 

and until their unuiementi become mora rational, we may 
be well satisfied that they remain hannleia. 

About thirty miles to the west of Cork, is a beautiftil 
and romantic glen, called " The Leap,'* which in the 
histoiy of the county has kmg been remaifcable. It was 
of old, and is still, in some degree, the boondaiy between 
the savage and the civilized; Ibr the adage even yet 
retains its force— " Btyobd the Leap, beyond the Law." 
For the space of two miks along the valley, one side of 
dM road is shadowed by a thick forest of oak, forming a 
strange but pleasing contrast to the high and barren hills 
which rise upon the other ; and after passing the bridge, 
situated at the eztremily of the dell, the traveller is in- 
stantly struck by the wildness that increases at eveiy 
alep. But, wild as it appears, it has its pecaUar charm : 
and though, over a plai& of miles in eitent, little is to 
be seen bat bogs and mosasses, yet it is so interqienad 
with numennia lakes, some of them highly piolQxesque» 
that, to the eye of the poet, or a painter, the piospeot 
must be one of interest, if net of beauty ; and the poli- 
tical eronomist only would exclaim, "all is barren!'' 
To llie tntveUer, its charm is heightened by the change 
from the gloom of the dark forest ; while a few biokea 
relics ie£ some old castles, o'er parts of which 

** The floiigfa haa psflied» or weeds have grown," 
serve as a relief to the sameness of the view, and afiM 
subjects for meditation as he travels ofyyraida. In the 
distance, he beholds the high htUs rising abom the valley 
in rude ma g a j fi oe n ce} with hen and there * little euUi- 

99$ rtur «o Av i: 

Vmil ipflit OD wBBB m ■BOBS CBff BBUMB Bm w OM-^ 

**'y'*^ ^M d0^4w3t cwWigB finm the ncfes 
ThiMe lalbaie qrottooipBd by mnitri*!, vboa 
flpofaidiii chnuu* 

A foad til tfiekftf towvKl ifeflB-ooiii^ lecdfaitD A^WIr 
k^of (Random; Idit h b fiMlB batter tbanafiw^MAi* 
fBla% iBiyiMible t6 eamagoa nC etaiy duicriy l ioi ^ aad 
dafl^^rtovi 0vn to iRMa* Tha fnyr koipatiii* la nal 
aliai^aibtf cbaanoMy nvy an ana^ aiai^ Snd^ lafi tta 
tjaaiiful daaMsnaof Loid KingBlDtk; and ondieadiflr, 
thaoid ttaMaott and raafcay ef Caade Jane, ym* plaaniwg 
and romaMie caat to the hmt^apipg ; whS^ the liver ia 
aaen at intorvils, betwean tbe tliiek unod tlia* dopea fram 
the load to the ibora» InaviffleyyaatToandedonallflidaa 
bjrbigli, bal well calllvatod iiaUa, is atnatodtfaeviO^i^ 
aonaisling' of « manber af str^ggiing eottagea built alaqg 
fba iCraild, witb die potato faadan b^iad eabb» and 
Itontad by the dinighill» Ibimed as a aertofwalLaaeidiar 
cid6thedoilr. It WBaereniilg whabljiatiqppoaobedit; 
an tvunin^ in Atttamni aaidtbesan nasaeltiBginallitB 
aptendeur, an image af ike^ £tanial> whsaot tboag^ are 
HsmsMt gaaaupott^ wd fiwl. Tfaevyiagen wtte aiirwwblin g 
to paaa it, afceordflig to their finqoent mutoaa, when the 
labours ofthedar aieover: andlhadtoenBomKior the 
inquisilivd gaaaof matty * eonotrf lasa* ntlmg ether cabin 
deor> kU&ag her ttesRSi and amiBgii^ her mstic finery, 
4»piaiMHraiiottfortha«felixngdaiK9ew A (seuntiynudi, whis 
tf he-waMSM going my tmy, nedfe itlds, addiaaasdne 
•iiitli-^^Il'c.^^kih^rvaaing^yeur faMBor,Gad.bleBBitr 

man to ait lamsu caikii. 997 

Thai hlf Ming ii Jkm gmmX tflomnptnimBpf qf jtba Intk* |o 
ereiy tUag they adaura, or wiili Id 1^ idi9u«d. I tmve 
li«qMB% heard it bo ato wfo d on thuigi Miniale and inaqi* 
male— and <« that's a fuM conr, God bl«s ttl" or *' it's n 
baantilid tree» God hkasitr* aie ouMtaat aad &vourite 
coEoianiaiMk Mv comoanioii. for ha bacamo id. was an 
old and waathai^beataa aulor, who had wM ooe-half 
tiM gloibe* and knew iran a tfiin g of the other : he peaned 
not a little vain of his saperiorily ov«r his feHow-viUagieis j 
nod it was with bomb dificuHy I piwaUed itpfn him 
to fwget the EsqnimaoK aad the Hottentots, and to ]ea?e 
fit. Lawrence, and the Table Jitantain, ftr the Olandoca 
\Sk and river. At loogth in his own dialeot, half sea- 
jnan, and half ivatie, he aonmtiiced his iMovimt of the 
fiMehboannflr villas, and their nidydiitants. and continned 
40 point out 40 me the alinwtdve soanas, as ive walked 
along. " Do yon see that hovse upon thu bill yonder^ 
Thai's Mr. -R.'s. 'Oh! he's a head man to the poor: 'tis 
abadttfelustenantshRMofit: 1*4 aa live he a slave i^ 
an Algee rover ; and I was^onee, and hy the aame tohea I'll 
remember it to my deatii. We foof^t hard».1nit ihey shot 
away our jfb-boom, and so took as. And that litlleiaUnd 
that mns away Aom ihe shore, like the desaiteis at Ma- 
deira— ^al'sMr. M«'s-*4hat is, it isn't now^ for ho'sdeM* 
and ihe onl^ land that's left him is in the ohiiieh«yavd, 
fore'nent you. Oehl it^ he was ibe good man in his 
day, anyhow! Noveracwtar pass'd his door ^rithqut 
^e bit and the tiip, barring the gnager, the Uaokgu^ 
thattuck.his pothaen, and Jdk hisiUsgantUtllebit^ /i^ 

288 miT TO AV msH cabin. 

mare : Oh wisha ! eveiy bad lack to him for that same. — 
Look at that ould castle iipon the grey rock'; that's Bir. 
0.*s ; him that wrote a will, and made his dead imde pat 
his name on it, by holding the corpse's hand ; and then 
he swore he had life in him at the time ; and troth ao he 
had, for he put a live worm in the dead man's mendi. 
And that house in the glen yonder, that's the Claxigy- 
man's ; with sixteen Protestants in his ridt parish ; never 
a one more!" 

By Ihis time we had reached the middle of the Til- 
lage ; and my companion, thinking it now necessary for 
me to giTe some account of myself, were it but in gratitude 
for his confidence and commimicalions, questioned and 
cross>questioned me, though to no puipose. After hating 
borne patiently the examination of my companion» like a 
shrewd witness before a long-headed barrister, who diinks 
l)efore he opens his lips, and never replies until he has weD 
conned his answer, I pointed towaod one of the eottages, 
round the door of which, a number oi the peasantry were 
assembled, and asked him wbat was doing there. " It's 
the pattemt your honour. May be your honour would like 
to see the gossoons dancing ; and sure now there'll be 
many a nato giil and boy tripping it there, when blind 
jTerry, iSbe piper, that's on the hill yonder, is to the fore." 
We advanced toward the house — it was the viUi^ tavern, 
over the door of wfaikh was a large sign, with agrim figifiie 
^ Saint Patrick, mkied and clad in his rolies, bearing a 
ctoss in one hand, and a book in' the other : before him^ tottte and serpents, in abundanoe, creeping outof dit 


y.ftf kn-euiM, while one or two, mora oouragsous than 
the rart, had ventund to turn round and hiss at the holy 
m^xx who waa thus duqwssessing them of their territoiy. 

Weenteied the cabin, and the attenliott of the company 
was dividsd between the strange gentleman, and Jeny 
the blind piper, who anived at the same moment; the 
squeaking sonnd of his music, as he filled the bellows 
oi his pipes, immediately set the party in motion. A 
stranger never requires an introduction, and is always sura 
of a welcome. A seat was handed to me, and I accepted 
the invitation, " Will your honour be plased to sit down 1 " 
f' It's litUe the hkes of ns has to give your honour," said a 
stuopdy, tough fellow, the owner of the house ; " but the 
qu^ty Khes the mountain dew, as they call it, and here 
it isy nate and beautiful, sure enough." Scnne whiskey 
punch aecompanied the recommendation, in a sort of mu- 
lilafted tjmibler, tied round the top, (which a large crack 
made necessaiy) by a piece of tarred string : "It isn't the 
best i^ass, but it's the largest, sir," said the man who 
presented it to me* ^md added with a wink and a smile, 
'* Your honour isn't an officer V' — thus sufficiently inti- 
mating that the liquor had paid no duty to the king. I had 
now leisure to make my remarks on the group around me ; 
they were principally gazing on the four dancers, and, by a 
" well done, Paddy I " or, an ** ilUgantly danced, Judy t" 
applauding the. endeavours of the young peasants, who 
certainly footed it with all their hearts. Among the 
lookenHttt, the old people, of whom there were .but few 


290 yiniT TO AN iRisq cabin. 

present, oaHy had seats ; the rest were either standings or 
sitting cross-legged around the ling. The room was 
crowded; and I never saw a more apparently ba^y 
group; for there was not a single countenance among 
them that bore any traits of care. 

The evening was like one of those green and fertiliaed 
spots on their barren mountains, which appears naoie 
beautiful and more cheering because oi the surrouBding 
gloom; and I felt, that if the Irish peasantry did not 
at times enjoy such, their lot would be indeed one of 
wretchedness and miseiy. 

While the meny villagers were thus engt^ed, a man 
burst into the room, exclaiming, " The oukl ferry-boat is 
gone down, and they're all lost ! " The music instantly 
ceased, and the whole party hurried toward the shore ; 
where we found that the boat had indeed gone down, but 
that the passengers were not all lost. On the beach, men 
and women were running, and eagerly asking intell^ence 
of all they met, each fearing to hear of a husband or a 
brother among the victims ; while the joy of those who 
clasped their faint and dripping relatives, was scarcely 
less agonizing than the fearful anxiety of those who as yet 
knew not the fate of their own friends. I soon saw my 
former companion, and his wet clothes witnessed for him 
that he bad not been idle ; three times he had plunged 
into the waves, and as often had he returned bearing a fel> 
low-being from the waters. Others had exerted themselves 
with equal success ; and one only of the hapless partjr was 



brought lifeless to the land. A few diopo of blood issued 
from a wound on the temple of the young man ; and he 
must hare recehned a fetal blow ^en the boat upset. 
To the house where, but a few minutes before, they had 
been so gay s^nd happy, the party returned, slowly and 
mournfully following the body of him who had been thus 
cut off in the April of his days. It was dark ; but 1 heard 
deep sobs irom the midst of the crowd ; and I knew he 
was not the only beii^ to be wq>t for. The corpse was 
laid pn a table in the room where the danoe had so lately 
been ; and there were two female figures standing beside 
it — the mother and sister of the dead youth. The young 
girl was moaning and weeping bitterly ; while the crowd 
stood sorrowfully by. One of them tried to soothe her, 
with, " Mary, Mary dear ! 'tis God's will ! " She turned 
toward the man who had spoken, and pointed to the body : 
then with the action of frenzy, she shook the pale corpse, 
shrieking, ** Tom 1 Tom dear ! why wont ye wake 1 Oh, 
wake, wake ! " and she fell senseless on the 6oor. The 
noise roused the mother, who had been wiping off the 
chill damp and the drops of blood that still oozed from 
the forehead. Her sorrow was " too deep for tears." 
<' I tell ye, Mary, he's dead ! " she murmured, when she 
heard her daughter's voice, ** and will never wake again ! " 
And she bent listlessly over the body, while her hand was 
laid upon his pale brow; and she muttered, as if un- 
conscious of the presence of any except her dead child, 
" You were a good son, agra ! how like his father he is 


now, wiien I saw him last, before Ihey put hka in ins 
ooM gnve! — What'U Muydowhea Fm gone? God 
ht with her ! and him that's dead^ him that's a coipse be- 
htt ne, and I not fay, wi^ mj blessing for him ! " Most 
of the ▼illageis had left the scene of soirow, and, as I saw 
that diose who lemained were all the yoang man's vda- 
tifes and friends, I departed also, with an aching heart, 
to reBect on the melancholy close of the eremng of gaiety 
and joy ; and, once more, to bear testimony to the treth 
of the wends of tlie poet — ^t pleasure and happiness are, 
too often, but 

** The tommies Bmoodmess, ere it dash below I " 

L. A. H. 



'Ti8 a green spot of time in the even-tide, when 

The sleepy^heftd flowers are winking, 
And the cuckoo's sweet hiccuping down in the glen. 

Tells of the dew she's been drinking. 

When the blackbird is filling the reed in his throat, 

I1ie wood-nun her vespers beginning ; 
And the hedge-piping wren with her minikin note. 

Sings to the housewife a-sptnning. 

When the siker-wing'd bee from his travels retum'd, 

What tale he shall tell, hummeth over ; 
What sights he has seen and what facts he has leam'd 

While abroad he has been, and a rover. 

Then to lean o'er the stile, and look down o'er the meads. 
Where the woods in wet sun-beams are smoking, 

And the quarrelsome crows are all making their beds, 
And cawing, and craving, and croaking. 



Now they settle, and swing in their hammoeks so high. 

Safe as halcyons sleep, and as quiet ; 
Till a friend steals a straw, — when up ! up ! and the sky 

Is all wings, and the wood is all riot. 

Down again, and to rest. But the petulant stream 
Murmurs on, murmurs on its wild journey ; 

And the gnats sparkling swift thro* the rich yellow beam, 
Buzz as bright by your cheek as they'd bum ye. 

Gentle Eve comes apace — gentle eve with a veil 
Dew-beste^'d, that fells balm in a shower. 

If its grey fleecy folds are but puffed by the gale 
That would scarce move the wing of a flower. 


O 'tis sweet to the heart, and 'tis sweet to the eac. 

At this hour of tired Nature's rqx)6ing. 
The hush that runs o'er the wide woodland to haar 

As her dim dusky ^elia. aie cio«i>g. 

No roar fmm the valley, no moan from Uie ffovex 

No noise that the noou'season- numbers ; 
But a low stilly sound, such as Pysche's own Love 

Might fan from his wings o'er her slumbers. 


Flying into a Tillage church, and alighting on the pulpit, just 
aa the Clergyman tnu announcing a Sermon to be preached 
for the benefit «f 

Welcome, Boft mesBenger of peace ! 

Let Faith and Hope the omen hail ; 
llie moral deluge soon shall cease. 

And Truth's eternal Rock prevail. 

Twas thine with new>boin hiqpea to fill 
The sad sumvors of a world ; 

And Fancy 'mid thy plumage still 
Sees the height arch of heaven unfurled. 

Shrouded in thee from mortal sight. 
The Spirit hallowed Jordan's tide, 

When with the sinner's healing rite, 
The sinless Son of God complied. 

796 ON A DOVE. 

'Twas on thy rushing pinions sped. 
The same all-conqu'ribg Spirit came. 

When wond'ring thousands saw with dread 
The mystic tongues of living flame. 

Who then shall blame, if Fancy seize 
A presage hallowed by the sky. 

When, wafted on the joyous breeze. 
The Spirit's type thus meets her eye ? 

She marks it, with confiding wing, 
Settle on Truth's immortal shrine , 

While hosts unseen of angeb sing — • 

*' The nations. Lord ! shall yet be thine.^' 


[WifttoB in Ike Tear 1815.] 

Amovc tlie mmy buiefiil fiAcIs «f the French Bevo> 
Intioii, the dinegaid of oaths ^diich it hat piDdiiced qi 
Fnnee, ia the moit depknbk. On er eiy new levolatkni 
there was a new o«di. This aeems to have been the 
grand resooioe of their poKtirians, the fovoarile anmae- 
ment of their populace, tiD at last tfie woids *' I twmr — 
We moear !** r^etttod so heqaeoAy by the French on 
evay change of gownmenty or caprice of political fashion, 
have hat ail power, aO nse, all meaning. In the Champ 
de Bfan, at the oommencement of the Revolution, at 
what they called the Giand Federation, ihej took an oath 
tobefoithAd to theb c uiistituti on and their king. How 
thb oath was kept, we too w«^ remember! Then a new 
oath was taken to the Direcloiy, another to the Consnlale, 
another to the Emperor — to the great Emperor of the 
French, and to Ae titde King of Rome! When Bo- 


Mpaite wu defeated and dethroned, and Louis the 
Ei^teenth — Louis le desir^ — ^returned, fresh oaths were 
eagerly sworn to their legitimate sovereign, and he was 
hailed as the best of kings; and to all the Bourbons 
fidelity was vowed voluntarily and vehemently. But no 
sooner did Bonaparte return from Elba, than all thdr 
oaths, though made with the most theatric enthusiasm, 
the most tremendous adjurations, were all violated and 
forgotten. Those very persons who had sworn to devote 
themselves to die in defence of their lawful sovo^ign — to 
stand by him to the last — to spill the last drop of their 
blood in proof of their loyalty — deserted him at his utmost 
need. Princes, dukes, marshals, senators, soldiers, all 
hurried to give a new oath of fidelity to Napoleon ; and 
now the emperor himself has been called upon to take an 
oath of adherence to the constitution, and Bonaparte swears 
to Caraot, and Camot to Bonaparte, and the whole nation 
resolve to act the old disgusting farce over again. " Be- 
cause of swearing, the land moumeth," said the pro- 
phet ; but the Parisians find that because of swearing the 
land rejoiceth. Fonnerly they all swore on the Champ 
de Mars, and now they have all sworn on the Champ de 
Mai ; and, accordii^ to their 6wn fulsome phraseology, 
** they that day presented a scene truly touching — they 
formed a grand and imposiBg spectacle for the stianger 
and for all Europe.*^' — Yes, on the Champ de Mai, at a 
f^te at the Champs Elys^es, in the midst of princes and 
monarchs, and belles, and beaux, and eagles, and flowers, 
and amphitheatres, and booths, and fountains flowing 


with wine, and orchestras for music, and stages for singers, 
and stages for dancers, and stages for amnsing philosophy, 
and foats of horsemanship, and rockets, and balloons, 
and combustibles, and confectionaiy, and pftt^s, and 
pnliets, and sausages, and geese, and turkeys, and 
soaped ropes, and M»iy Andrews, — the united people 
interrupted their emperor's speech with cries of — *' We 
swear!" — cries of *' We swear!" a thousand times re- 
peated, — cries universally prolonged of *' We swear I*' 
resounded throv^hout the assembly ; and the great nation 
have sworn by all that is absurd and by all that is sacred, — 
by that honour which is dearer to Frenchmen than their 
lives, — by that liberty which they never knew how to use, 
— by that English constitution which none of them ever 
uttdeistood, — by that God in whom few of them believe. 
All this would be ridiculous, iS it were not abominable. 
It is truly abominable to see a nation, even of our ene- 
mies so degraded. There is no word buta word of their 
own invention, that can describe thdir condition : demo- 
rallied, thank Heaven ! is a word scarcely understood in 
England. It describes a situation hardly to be compre- 
hended by Englishmen. To the peo|de of France, an 
oath has lost its sanctity, and with its sanctity, its power 
and its utility. It is no longer awful as an appeal to 
Heaven: it is no longer binding as a contract between 
men : it is no longer useful as the bond of society ; that 
great bond is broken and gone. 

The good and the wise in France — (that there ate both, 
we believe: we do not« with vulgar prejudice, \nvolve 


the whole ia tbe £9Dy and ffuJtH of a part o£ a natioa) — 
the good and wise in Fianee feel as strongly as we can 
do, the disgrace and penl of the situation to whii^ their 
country is reduced ; peril greater than the periis of wax — 
disgrace to which no foieign enemy, no defeat in aits or 
arms, could have reduced any eeuntiy — from which no 
victoiy, no triumph, gan in our days redeem their people 
as to the past, or secure them as to the fotoie. The want 
of national moraUty and national religion — the want of 
the grahd social security of an oiUh — cannot be rqwired 
by armies, nor by battles, nor by edicts, nor by ccmsti- 
tutions, nor by the wish or will of any man, or set of men, 
upon earth. The belief of the truth oC asseveration, no 
human power can impose on the mind« The violation of 
tbe sanctity of oaths cannot be forgotten at pleasure ; nor 
can the last solemnity of an oath be suddenly restored by 
any ceremonies or by any foim of words. When once 
the people have been taught, as the French people have 
been taught, by notorious precedent and frequent example, 
to think lightly of perjury, what can afterward touch thor 
conscience "i — what shall restrain their conduct l — what 
can ensure respect to any laws, or fidelity to any govern- 
ment 1 This generati o n must pass away, — a new gaoe* 
ration, better educated, with principles of virtue and 
religion, must be formed, — before there can be hope or 
security for public faith or social order and happinesa in 
jt' ranee. And years must pass away, and examples of 
stability of principles — c^r^[ard to their political engage- 
ments — must be given to the neighbouring nations, before 

ON niSirCH OATB9« 901 

Frtnce can, widi them, re-^itabltah her national cha- 

At this moment, we ask — and we ask the question not 
in the spirit of reproach or Kviling-^^Is there any country 
in the ciirSized world, who would willingly change national 
character with France 1 Would England 1 — would Ire- 
land? Would any £ngfishman — would any Irishman 
accept for his countiy all the treasures which France has 
been permitted to accumulate in her days of conquest 1 — 
the far-famed Venetian horses, the Apollo, the Venus, 
or all the statues and all the pictures which her rapine 
could wrest fn»n the despoiled countries of Europe — 
would he accept of them all, upon condition that England 
should take with them the disgrace which France has 
brought upon her national character, or stand the hazard 
of that peril, political and socia], morel and religious} 
which she has incurred 1 Eveiy Briton would, we be- 
lieve, scorn the ofe, and ask or fed, ** What are all 
these ? Baubles, compared with our reputation for good 
faith, our integrity, our moral and religious character, the 
real strength and security of a nation." Long may such 
be the warm feeling, and, better far, the steady principle 
of our countrymen 1 And that it may be, let us stiengthen 
our respect, our revenence for oaths, by all the combined 
poweis of education, law, opinion, and, above all, reli- 
gious observance. 

To contribute somewhat to thb great effect, bin the 
power of eveiy individual in this countiy, whatever his 
{(^une or his poverty, his rank or his humble situation 


302 OK niEirca OAtfis* 

may be : for Ih^ pooMst man in the land way^how hb 
respect for an oath, and support that respect by his 
eaxmple, as well as the richest: he has temptatkms 
wluch the rich hAre not : he has opportmuties which llie 
tkh hare seldom : his evidence, ht or against Us neigli- 
boor, is, in this conntiy and these tunei, freqnentljr 
caQed for. Mucli rests npon a poor man's oath. 

The violation, the invasion of an oath, is, if posriUe^ 
more criminal, more disgracefhl, the better 'die edocatioik ; 
the higher the means of information, die greater, the 
safer the opportunities of ftaud enjoyed by tUe individud. 
Let this consdousn^BS press, in {ttiblic aiid private* 
strongly upon those, in whatever rank of life, who are 
called upon to take what are called oaAs of Ofllee-^ 
custom-house oath& — oaths of form even« Lbt alt con- 
sider, that mental reserviktion m taking an oath, is' fiand 
to man and falsehood to God ;' — that it is in vain fliat 
they try to excuse themselves ia this sacrifice of prin- 
ciple to interest: their conscience vrill npbraid them-^ 
the small, still vmce will be heard. In* vain they screen 
themselves from the temporal dbloquy, by a quibble, o^ 
tibe construction of words — by pleading custom, or looldng- 
tm' numbers who share kad' couiitenance the guilt. There 
must be no paltering vritii an oath. The example of 
the strictness of integrity, in taking and abiding by oaths 
of office, would in every country — in this country of 
Ireland — be of more efficacy, more real advantage to die 
good order and prosperity of the kingdom, than any who 
are accustomed to merely fiscal calculations, than all who 

ON rnsNCH 0ATUB« 303 

«re Bot habkuatcd to laife, moral, and political Yiews, 
can possibly believe or comprebend. 

But it is not only to those who take oaths — rich or 
poor, high or low ^- whom we should most anxiously 
miyue upon this most important subject : whan we spoke of 
guarding our reyerence for oaths by law and institution* 
' we looked to those who form the inatitutiona and who 
frame the laws of our countiy. Let them connder well 
the importance of their task — the responsibility of their 
aituation. Instead of multiplying restriction upon ve- 
atriction — penalty upon penalty — oath upon oath— let 
t^em so legislate as to avoid* as far as possible, holding 
out to the poor the temptation, the opportunity for 
evsimifL or fraud. *- Let them consider* that mult^lying 
oatha is multiplying* certainly, the possibility, and too 
frequently the probability* of peguiy. Let them con- 
aider, that the respect for oaths is necessarily dimi- 
nished by their frequency ; — that their power is inversely 
as their number ; — that their solemnity is lost, if they 
are brought down /rom the high to the low concerns of 
life i — and that it is well worthy of the legislator and 
the moralist — perhaps also of the fmancier and the poli- 
tician— to saeiifice even excise to morality, and revenue 
IP region ! 


BY L. £. L. 

GuoB thou gentle river on. 

But not until I write on thee. 
Much of changed, much of good. 

That henceforward I will be. 
By thy swift and silver stream, 

Prayers and blessings will 1 send. 
On to yonder glorious haven, 

Where I see thy waters blend. 
Careless river, thou has lost 

All I trusted to thy wave ; 
All my best intents, «ndbQpes» 

In thy depths have found- a grfire* 
Thus it is the waves of tine» 

Bear the heart's resolves aw«y, 
Useless all, and life's best part 

Thus becomes the spoiler's prey* 
Woe for man's weak foolishness. 

Flaying thus the infant's part ; 
Writing that upon the wave, 

Which he should grave on his hearL 



'• Aadwhntbtj etme to Mnd^flieyeoBlAiMC drink of the 

walan orilanhy for they wen Utter. 
<* And the people mnnniiied agaiiut Mo«eo» Mtying, What diall 

we drinkf 
"Aad he cried mte the Lovd; and the Lovd diowed him a 

tne» iriikii when he had cut into die wateni» the waten 

wen made tweet.'' Ezod. xr. SSx-Sff. 

Whebk is the tree tlM prophet threw 

Into the hitter wafet 
Left it no ackm where it grew. 

The dontmg soul to save 1 

Halh Nature loit die hidden power 

III preoous Mnge shed 1 
Is there no distant Eastern hower. 

Widi soch sweet leaves o'erspread ? 

2d2 ' 

306 zion's daughters. 

Nay, wherefore ask 1 — since gifts are ours^ 

Which yet may well imbue 
Earth's many troubled founts with showers 

Of Heaven's own bahny dew. 

Oh ! ihinglftd with the cup of gnef. 

Let Faith's deep spirit be. 
And every prayer shall win a leaf 

From that blest healing tree ! 

■n ...»»■ 


BY J. ttOBY. 

Dark as the bounding waters 
When storm-clouds o'er them foil. 

The face of Zion's Daughters 
Reflects the storm-swept soul. 

But light is sown in sadness. 
And hope witii anxious fears ; 

Yon clouds shall break in gladness, 
And doubts dissolve in tears. 



If yonder radiant sphere of bliss 

To which the eye oft turns at even. 
Yon glorious sphere that smiles on this. 

Be where young seraphs gaze on heaven,- 
O waft me on some starzy wing. 

That I may view that world above ; 
With beauteous seraphs joyous sing. 

In one rich, boundless burst of lore ? 

O bear me to those " cloud capt towers," 

That ceaselessly my soul invite. 
Where time impedes not, and the hours 

Are burning with excess of light ; 
For I would quit this gentle earth. 

And wander to yon sky divine : 
Ah ! happy is a seraph*s birth. 

To worship from so pure a shrine ! 


Ye vnMen spirits, who around 

Me float like dew beneath the stars, 
O let me hear the angelic sound. 

Which thus my fevered soul unbars ; 
O waft me there on wings of fire. 

Such as to blessed ones are given. 
That I may, with that seraph choir. 

Exalt my strains with theirs to heaven ! 



Ah ! boast thee not of thy beautiful eye. 
And its lustre of languishing blue ; 

For know, the beam of its brightness must die> 
As the flower that is lost to the view* 

Ah ! boast thee not of thy beautiful hair, 
As in ringlets it falls on thy breast ; 

For its auburn tints one sad doom must share 
With the leaves of the forest at rest. 

But boast of thy soul in purity bright. 
As at first from thy Maker 'twas given ; 

'Tis the only flower can survive the night 
Of death, to awaken in heaven. 





" I'll go no further. Old HUdehrand has some dir^ 
matters on his hands, that he wants to thrust into our 
fingers. A bad business quits best at the beginning. If 
once we get into the middle, it weie as well to go on, as 
come back ; like Old Dobbs, when he swam half way 
through the mill-pond, and then, being faint-hearted, 
swam back again." 

" Look thee, Anthony, thou art a precious ass ; thou 
wouldst be a wit without brains, and a rogue, aye, a very 
wicked and imconditional rogue, without courage. Tut, 
that same cowardly rogue, of all villains, is verily the 
worst. Your liquorish cat, skulking, and scared with'a 
windle-straw, is always the biggest thief, and has the 
cruellest paws, for all her demure looks, and her plausible 
condescensions. — Come on." 

" I don't care for thy jeers, Michael." 
" What I i^y beast riding at anchor already 1 'Tis well, 
I shall on to Bavendale Castle widi all speed, if 'twere 


only to inform one Hildebrand Wentwoitfa of fhis sodd^s 
qualm. Likewise, I may peradventure remember to tell 
him of another little qualm, once upon a time thou wast 
taken with, at the sight of a score of his fat beeres : ft 
little bit of choice rogueiy played off upon him by honest 
Anthony with the tender conscience. Look to it, comxade, 
he shall know of this, before thou canst convey thy cow* 
ardly carcase out of his clutches. An it be thou goest 
forward, mum ! Backward — Hah ! have I caught Iftee, 
my pretty Hrd." 

At the conclusion of this speech, with the maSae of a 
fiend ttiging on his hesitadng Ttctim to tiie commissioB of 
some loathed act of foHy or of crime, the apeifter lashed 
his unwilling componite's beatst into a furious gaflop, and 
Aey were soon threadii^ the intricate males' across part of 
that vast chain of moorlands and forests, which, loiig 
ago, sldited the northern boundaries betw<Qen Yoik' and 

The hoisemen were evidently of that dulneuri daas, 
named " Knights of the Post,^' — highwaymen, deer- 
stealers, orcattle-hairiers; ailandeveryofwhieh'ooeapa- 
tions, they occasiotaally followed. 

The present owner of Ravendale Casde, whom itapp«n 
they had beforetime befriended in virtue of these savend 
callings, had seat for tiiem in haste, having eeotsioB to' 
employ them, it might seem, ia sobm hmtttm ithAm to 
dieir profession. 

Forsomte hoars they tiavaUed with cenaidwabie^peed. 
Day w«i just brighteaing in-tfaa easl, as, aniqgiBgihwa 


»il»iie diui usQid intncacy of pttik, tkey puihed througli 
a thick and overiumging archway of booghs. Stiddenly a 
giean knoU pEesentBd itself, sloping gently towaid a narrow 
rivnkt. Beyond, a dark and ptaitially fortified mansion 
itood before tiiem. Here and there, % tunet-shaped 
chamber, lifting its mural crown above the reat, rose clear 
and erect against the glowing sky, now rapidly displacing 
the grey hues of the morning. The nanow embrasures, 
ahaiy and beautifully dkrtincC, but black as their own 
grim recesses, stood in s<4emn contrast with the light and 
iliflkflring ti^mnuv from bdiiad, bieakiog into all the 
gOfgeoaa tints betokening a heavy and lurid atmo^here. 

The two horsemen crossed a narrow bridge, and the 
elattering of their hoofs was soon heard in the court-yard 
ef Ravendale Castle. They had evidently been fisr some 
time expected. 

" So, masters, if it had not pleased ymir betters to have 
built so many hostels and roosting-plaoes on the road, I 
mi^t have been snug in my bed-linen four hoars ago, 
I'm a thinking.'* 

The peiBonage who. thus aoooeted them, was dressed in a 
plain leathern cap and doublet, with a pair of stout hose 
that would not have disgraced a Dutch Vrow of the first 
magnitude. His short and frizzled beard waa curiously 
twirled and pointed, we may suppose after the choicest 
fetthion of those regions* His a}^pearanee bespoke him as 
some confidential meniid belonging to the establishment. 
His whole demeanQur had ia it an air of impertinent au- 
thority. Hie little sharp eyes twinkled in all the plratitnde 


of p ow ci, and peemd in the horn off iIm tstvcBns as A^ 
alighted to render kim an nnwiBmg salatation. 

" We ha?e made the hest of onr load. Master Jeflfisiy» 
sinoe we left onr honea in Nedieidale. But in troth, it's 
a weaiy way, and a dioudiy one into die baigain. I have 
not wet even the tip <rf this poor beast's nose smoe we 

" Go to, — an the beasts be eaied kr; thine own 
mnzde may take its chance of a swill. Daiby, see to the 
hokses. Nowfturbnainess. Master has been watting for yos 
these three boors : make what excuse you may. Heigh 
ho ! my old skull will have the worse on't soon with these 
upsittings.'' — ^Taking a lamp fiom its niohe, he commanded 
the strangers to follow. A wide staircase led to ^ gal* 
leiy, from which a number of low doom communictited 
with the sleeping n^artments. Entering a narrow passage 
from an obscure corner, they ascended a windings stair. 
The sharp and capacious spurs of the intmdeis struck 
shrilly on the stone, mingled with the grtimhfings of 
Master Je£S»y Hardpiece. A continual muttering was 
kept firom the latter, by wn^ of mnning aocompaaiment 
to the directioos which eret and anon h^iraBd it needfiil 
to issue. 

** There — an ass, a veiy ass — ke^ thy face fimm the 
walli X teU thee, and lift up thy great lesthem hoofs.'' 

An(^er aeries of inaudible muxmunngs mingled with 
confused and rambling sentences. 

" This stair is like old Giles' horn— it^s long a winding. 
Now — thy spurs, is it! Beshrew me, knave, butthm 


art like to frighten the.-cfaildanwitli tiieir ebtteiing. Tbty 
aue up, and are tmdy for Iheir trip. Maudlin inil ititch 
a pillow to your pummels, and tfaey'll ride bravely, tly 
pretty deaiB* Stop there, I tell je-^VU £nx ciave an 
audience with my raafter» and return*" 

Old Haidpiecse tapped gently at a small door iHiich now 
stayed their progress. It was opened hastily to admit his 
entnnoe, and but a lew moments dapsed em Master 
JefiiBiy's cunabig face was cautiously eHended'Out of the 
narrow opening. He beckoned to his oompanioas» and at 
once ushered them into' a low chanrfwr. A lamp, half 
extinguished, stood on the floor. The walls were neatly 
bare, and streaked in a variety of colouis with the damp 
ooce iiUering from the roof. A curious^ carfed oak table 
standing in the middle, aad two or three stone bandies, 
comprised the furniture of the apartment. A few rusty 
swmds, with two large pistols nevly falling from their 
holsten, hiing from the walL la one comer lay some 
halberds, mpoaing in otium cum dignitate with several 
unmatched pairs of mildewed boots. Near to the window, 
or rather loop-hole, heaped up in a most picturesque atti- 
tude of diaoider, lay a score or two of rusty helmets; their 
grim attiriogs mostiy brokened and disjointed^— Facing to 
aad fro through this uninviiingdiamber of andience^ was seen 
a figure of about the middle aire, atlired in a loose upper 
ganient. His head was nearly bakl ; a £bw tlun locks 
only, hung from the lower part of his poll ; aad yet, his 
age did not appear so far advanced aa the scanty covering 
of his forehead mig^ seem to intlmato* He stayed not 

2 E . 


on the entrenoe of the visiten, but, during the greater 
port of the succee^ng interview, penerered in the suaae 
restless and abrupt gait, as though repose wete anguidi, 
and it was only by a continued change of position that he 
soothed the rising perturbation of his spirit. 

"Is this your haste, when my commands are most 

He turned shaipfy upon them as he spoke* His eyes 
grew wild and keen ; but still a heaviness and languor, as 
if frcmi kn^ watching, seemed to oppress them. 

" We could not " Michael was stammering out an 

apology, when thus interrupted. 

" Enough 'f I know what thou wouldest say. Let tlvf 
comrade remain below. Jefieiy, conduct him to thy 
refecto!iy,-*-Michael abides here. Haste, and let lefresh- 
ments be prepared." 

"Whatwas the purport irf the conversation that ensued 
between Hildebrand and this fitting agent for deeds of 
death and rapine, can only be sunuised firom the following 

Old Hafdpieoe, grumbling the gesater part of the way, 
led his companion through a labj^cwth- of stans and pas- 
sages, to a small room, where a huge flagon of ale, with 
odd beef and other substantial articles for breakfost, 
!w«re about being displayed. Anthony, nothing loth, 
threw aside his cap, and unbraced his girdle for the auMe 
Momy stowage of such savouiy and deliciotts viands. A 
heavy pull at the tsnkaid again elicited Master Jeflery's 
oades-apeken oimtoiy. Anthony's tongue giew more vo- 


1Mb, tt fak appetite wind ie» yngatmm* He aiked 
Buidfy queitioM toadung liie bonieM/wliieli called lor 
tlwBiai Bavendale in tnch haste. 

"The eqiihaii cfaildicn of Sir Henijr Fairfu, am to be 
conveyed to wnne place of coneealnieat fat a short period* 
Master says» hehashadintimariimof adesignenthepart 
of the late Sir Heuy's friends to seise them perfMce: 
i^iichactolTioleBee, UiUefannd Wentmscth, being left 
as their sole giiaidian» willdo ail in his poisec topravont." 

"Theduldienof thekte Sir Uany Faiifrz* who was 
hilled id fineign wais V iwpiissd Anthsay. 

"Ay ay, —-poor things! Since their mother dimmed 


Light Aioistsps i*bic now heaid bomriing akngthepas* 
saf^i and the door warn suddenly bmst open by iwo rosy, 
langhing duldien — the elder a boy of some iam or five 
years' gMwth, and his sister scasoely a twykamonA 

" MMtcr Jefiery» Master JeOny," lisped one jsyons 
nichin^ " hide me, here is Alice, she'll not let no go : 
so nioe a ride, with two gpntkmm on gnat hones, and 
I mast hsEfe a sword, and sister Jnlia anat haro a 


Ifare nime AUoe made her aapeatanoe* She had ^^ffi 
weeping. Team and entrealies weie vain; showas not 
pennitted to accompany them, bat, with afiawn,HihMMand 
Wentwofthhadcfaiddeaherftamhisprasenee. Sineethe 
malancfaoly has of their mother, and ahnost £ram thetiaB 
that the news tRiKed of their father's dsath, which hi^ 



peBfid a littte while bifare the foiith of Julia, she bad 
aeled a noKhe^n-^put to her ehaige* and had it been per- 
mitted her, she would gladly have serv^ them withoal fee 
or rewasd. Feaifol of quitting them, she had IWlowed 
haibly into the loaas. 'With a searching glance die eyed 
the stnnger for awhile, then suddenly tivmng to the chil- 
dren, she Holean^ exclaimed-^ 

** Hany, you have not said your prayer this mommg. 
Do you think God wfll take care of you to-day, if you do 

Here the rebuked boy gi«w serious, and with a suflused 
ejmran tohis nu|K, whilst in her lap he poured out 
his morning orison. It was a simple, but affecting re- 
quest, beseeching from their Almighty Father, presenra- 
tion fpom evil, and a special protection ftom idl the 
dangem to winch they might be exposed. Julia kndt 
also, and Alice, laying a handrion each, blessed the 
children--*" God of their fiitt^rs, I commit them to 
thy care i'* She could say no more, loud sobs eheeked her 
utterance,, and leaning over them, convukively clasped 
them in her embrace. 

Old Han^ieoe grew unustsHdly busy about the break- 
fast materials ; and the haid-featured trooper was seen to 
brush his brows, as though • some tt'&]rfeasant suraiise 
had crossed Ins brain. He raitied his arm as ho gased 
on the children, slowly muttering, «} he clenched hit 
haad-^ *' If he d»e t " He then csrdessly oxamfaied hiii 
sword* and vetumed it quiokly into its sheath, as ihfe ptoQb 
dstw away the childosn to her lewti- apaittneaiL 


Old SeSetf now grew more ttttalnre. Lesniag his ehiit 
upon hk hand, tnd his elbow on the tMt, he tfaos pio- 

"it's four long yesn come St. Banabes* since Sir 
Heniy's death ; and my lady, ie§t her soal ! went eiasy 
seen after behke. Every thing he died possessed of 
was bequeathed in trust to my master, Hildebiand 
Wentwoith, who was a great friend of Sir Hem/s, and 
aoeompanied him as his seeietaiy or pniae*beanr, I 
foiget which. No matter; all the [ irope rt y , I say, was 
bequeathed in trust for Sir Harry's wife and children. 
Hildebimnd brought a will from Sir Henry to this effect, 
and poor Lady Faiffaz never looked up afterward. She 
moped about, and would see nobody, and then it was 
th^ said she was out of her wits. Not long after, her 
head-gsar and mantle were found by tiie river side, 
just below the old bridge you crossed; but her body 
never.''— * Here tiieenlzance of Biichael cut short the old 
man's disooune. 

" Belike thou hast not lacked a cup of warm sack and 
a whey posset vrith my master in the west turret," 
pertly eiclairaed Master Jefiery. Michael looked surly 
as he replied — 

«< Old Gabeigeon, let us have a draught* of thy best— 
a stirrup cup : breakftut 1 have settled abore staiia." 

«< Marry, take your swill, Mr. Saucypate," tardy re- 
plied Jefeiy. "And so because you have eaten and 
drunk with my master, it is * Old Gabcrgeon !' else had 
it be9B * Good Master HaidpieceJ'---'If you will. Master 

2 E 2 


trodden, and only to be lecognbed by occasbned openings 
through the underwood. 

They traTeUed for some hours. Michad had taken 
the lead, and Anthony, with his prattling charge, rode 
caieiesBly on. Looking round, the latter suddenly checked 
his horse : a momentaiy alarm oven^vead hfs features as 
he cried — ■ 

''Michad, you have surely mistaken the path. An 
bourns ride should have brought us to the end of our 
journey, and our beasts have been footing it here these 
three hours." 

'' Ueed not, comrade -, this is our path, and thou wiU 
soon find we have the right track before us : we shall be 
thnwgh the wood presently."' 

"Why, this is the road to Middleham Tower, if I 
nuBtake not ; — yonder is the roaring of the waterfall." 

"Right; we shall be on the road to Bolton Castle 

They travelled ^n more silently than before, until the 
brawling of the torrent they had heard for some time 
increased into a roar with rapid intensity. The road now 
wid^ng, Anthony spurred on his beast by the side of 
his companuMi, who slackened his pace, as if to aiTord an 
opportunity for further parley. 
*' Whither are we bound 1" inquired Anthony. 
** Where the children will be weU cared iw.** 
A dubious expression of countenance, which Anthony 
hilt too well understood, escaped JVIichael as |n uttered 


tlMie ipofds ; asd viUam was written, legible and not 
easSy mhtaken, with eveiy change and inflection of his 
Yisage. Antliony, tboi^(h not of the most unsullied re- 
putation, and probably habituated to crimes at which 
humanity might shudder, pressed the little victim doaer 
to his breast. The prattle of the babe had won his 
heart ; and the moining scene with Alice had so softened 
his spirit, that he could have wept when he thought of 
the remonelesfc nature of his comrade, to whose care 
they had been entrusted. 

The roar of the torrent grew louder. Suddenly they 
entered upon a sort (tf irregular amj^tfaeatre — woods 
rising above each other to the very summit of the hills by 
which they were sunounded* A swollen waterfall was 
now Visible, below which, one single bare and flattened 
trunk, whose boughs had apparently been but jnst lopped, 
was thrown across the torrent. A mined keep, or donjon, 
was seen rising above a line of dark firs, crowning the 
summit of a steep crag rising abruptly from the river. 

"This is our half-way house," said Michael, pointing 
to the grim fortress. " The children are tired, and have 
need of refreshment. Tarry here with the horses, whilst 
I cany them over the bridge." 

" We have refreshments in the wallet : .what need we 
to l<Hter yonder," replied Anthony, eyeing the other with 
an evident expression of distrust. 

'<The children want rest," said Michael, "and we 
shall there find shidtef from die heat«'' 

" If rest be needfvl," was the reply, ** sunly this dry 


sward, and these orerbanging leaves, will aflbfd bodi 
Mst and shelter." 

"The children are in my keeping," said Michael, 
fiercely^ ** and I am not to account with thee for my pro- 
ceedings. Alight, and give me the child." 

" I will not. Michael, I have watched thee, and I 
know Aat thou ait a villain ! Aye, draw, and I have 
weapons too, comrade." 

Fast and furious giew the combat, whilst the terrified 
children made the woods resound with their shrieks. The 
rasalt did not long seem doubtful. Michael soon proved 
himself the better swordsman ; and his antagonist stum- 
bling from fatigue,, broke his own weapon in the £sO. 
Defienceless and exposed, the uplifted sword of his ad- 
versary was raised for his destruction — ^when suddenly the 
aim of the ruffian vras arrested, the sword snatched firom 
his grasp^ and a female figure, habited in a daik and 
coarse vestment, stood between the combatants. Her 
brow was bare, and her daik full eye beamed on them 
with a look of pity and of anger. Her naturally pale 
cheek was flushed, but it betrayed not the agitation she 
endured* Erect, and unbending, she stood before them, 
and the quailing miscreant crouched at her feet. 

" Away ! -^To thy master ! Thy blood, too worthless 
even for thme own steel !" — She huded away the weapon 
as she spoke. 

Burning with revenge at his late defeat, Anthony flew 
after the faUing brand : seiang it, he renewed die attadc. 
Michael ^ toward the bridge. With the bound of a 


bereaved tiger, Anthony sprung upon his pr^yw ' Jnit 
where the root of the trunk rested on the hank, they dosed/ 
ahest a desperate lunge parried by the unprotected arm of 
Michael. It was disabled, but he still clung to his enemy. 
Anthony strove to disengage himself; but the other, 
aware that life and death depended on the issue of that 
sCmggle, hung on him with a convulsive tightness that 
rendered of no avail the advantage he had gained. The 
sword was useless : Anthony threw it into the boiling gulf 
at his feet. Both hands being now free, whilst that of 
Michael yet hung at his side bleeding and useless, gave 
the former again greatly the advantage. He wrenched his 
enemy's arm from its hold, lifted him from his narrow 
f ooting'place, and with a malignant shout of triumph shook 
him over the abyss. One startling plunge, and the villain 
flank in the rolling waters. An agonizing yell, and but 
one, escaped him, as he hung quivering over that yawning 
portal to etemify^ — ^the next cry was choaked by the seethe 
of the boiling foam. The waves whirled him round for a 
moment, like some huge leviathan tossing its prey ; — ^he 
sank into its gorge, and the insatiate gulf swallowed him 
up for ever. Anthony hastily diew back. He turned 
from the horrid scene with some yet lingering tokens of 
oempnnction, in the expectation of rejoining lus compa- 
nions, but in vain — the babes and his deliverer had dis- 

Morning had risen bright and dneriul into the chamber, 
ere Hildebrand Wentworth awoke. He stamped thiioe, 
and immediately the half-knave, half-fool countenaaoe of 


Master Jefiery Haidpece was seen within the chamber. 
— " Master," said he» " a messenger arrived last night" — 

"A messenger!' From whomV eageriy demanded 

'* Unluckily/' said Jeffery, ** it chanced shortly aftn- 
your commands for the night, not to he disturbed. I 
durst not then trouble you with the message. Many, it*s 
not the sort of news one likes to be in a huny to tell" — 

" Go on, varlet." 

" Why," continued Jeffery, as if about to reveal un- 
pleasant tidings, and drawing back as he spoke, " the 
bearer is in the train of some herald or pursuivant, come 
from over the sea to our court, about exchange c^ pri< 
soners, and the like. Uns man has a message Irom Sir 
Henry Fairfax " 

** He lies ! I'll have his tongue bored," furiously cried 

" Nay, but listen. He says, Sir Heniy, whom we all 
thought dead, is now alive, and a prisoner in the fortress 

During this recital, the astonished Hildel^and clenched 
his bony fingers, with a look of awful and impotent rage. 
Hardpiece continued : 

"This coxcomb says, he was sent specially by Sir 
Heniy to obtain from yon some document of mighty im- 
portance, which will ensure his immediate release. He 
bears Sir Henry's signet, and the- knave has no lac^ of 

"Has this fellow had fiee communication with Ae 


menials, Jeflery;*or bait thou done me the serrice to 
keep hun and hUmeasage to thy self 1" anxiously inquired 

" Why, as touching that, Alice, somehow or other, (for 
these women are always about any body's business, save 
their own, ) wormed out bis message in part, before I was 
aware of the drift of the crafty jade's discourse." 

" Alice I — ^Ilah— that viper,^again across my path! 
Bid this messenger attend." 

When Jelfory retuined, he was followed by a short, 
muscular-lookiDg personage, attired in a foreign garb. A 
military cloak, and slouched hat garnished with a broad 
feather, gave him altogether an air of importance, which 
the bare exterior of his figure might not have been so 
capable of sustaining. On entering, he made a slight 
obeisance, llildebrand watched his bearing, as if he 
would have Marched him to his heart's core. Not in the 
least disconcerted, the soldier threw himself on a seat. 
Preliminaries were waived by this unceremoiuous guest, 
who, evidently with a foreign accent, began the interroga* 
toiy as follows : 

" You were the private secretary of Sir Henry Fairfax 2" 

** I was,'* briefly replied Hildebrand. 

'' Know you this signet V 

** I do,'' again he sullenly answered. 

" It was given into my keeping," said the stranger, " as 
a token whereby llildebrand Wentworth should, in the * 
due exascise of his foalty and trust, commit to my charge 
certain documenU that shall immediately be set forth. Bitf 



fint, and briefly, it maybe neediul to lebte the maimer in 
which Sir Henry recovered after your departoie. On the 
day following the skinniah, wherein Sir Heniy was sap- 
poeed to be mortally wounded, he gave unto you, as his 
most valued and bosom friend, those solemn ciedentiais^ 
wherein, as a dying man, he investad you withfoti povren 
to proceed to England forthwith, and there give his last 
tflMifflonials of unspeakaUe afiection and fidelity to his 
dear wife and his beloxed childien: likewise, that yoa 
should act as their sole guaidian jmd protector : all and 
eveiy of the goods and efiects of which he died the po8«> 
sessor, to be vested in your name, intzust, for thebenefitol' 
his vnfe and her inflEint o&piing alone. I think JL am 
right in this* In case ai their dea& though, I believe the 
property mverted to you." 

*' It did." 

" Such was the natm« of the wound, that his phymdan 
believed a few hours only could intervene ere his dissolu- 
tion must inevitably take place. He urged your immediate 
departure ; sh<»rtly after which, the whole camp equipi^, 
together with the »ck and wounded, feU into the hands of 
your enemies. Driven off to a considerable distance up 
the Rhine at full speed, and vnthout any other comforts 
or necessaries than what his captors could supply; his 
wounds bleeding afresh, and every muscle racked with 
pain, — to the astonishment of all, he recovered ; and from 
that time he has temained a close prisoner in the fortress, 
fie has heard netidingsfrom his native shoies : hetoMWs 
not hU loss. Yesternight only I heaid of Lady Fairfrui's 


noflt kdneiiteble daceaae ; msd how to acquaint him, I 
kaow not ! In a cartel lately anif ed for negotiating an 
exofatnge of priioneft, Sir Hewy aendi by me, aeoretly, 
as one of the envoys, for the papers I have before men- 
tioned. His name not being inelnded in the listt for ex- 
chaagei has induced htm thus to aet. Nor has he much 
misgiving but thnt the credentials he will be enafoled 
thnmgh me to pveaent, will bring to pass this so much 
desired event, and restore him to his family and to his 
home* They are papen of great moment, and will set 
forth claims which cannot be overlooked; and I ha^ 
mart mtnule and speeial instractkms to getthemlaid beivm 
the King's most gradous Council. These testtmonies aie 
deposited in a secret dxawer of an Eastern cabinet of cheiee 
and costly woikmanship, containing other records of grea) 
value. It is in the private chamfer, where Sir Henry 
was wont to resort from the cares and turmoils attendant 
OB his public duties." 

*' Hath'Sir Htaiy sent no written message or'letler to 
us touching ^is matter V' inquired Hildebrand. 

<' It is strictly forbidden to any pritoner," replied the 
other, " the use of tabletT." 

'' Retire, and 1 will begin the search with all speed ; 
but hold thyself in readiness for immediate departure. 
Thou wilt not have the wofm ^rift for a hasty dis- 

The stranger withdrew, accompanied by Hardpieoe. 
Hihkbmnd listened to their retreatiog fdotsteps. When 
tlie vaulted passages had ceased to give back th^r echoes. 


—''Hum dnlt not eKspe me now!" said be; and 
tlneir open ihe doon of the pmate chamber. Hilde~ 
bnmd bad often seaiiched through this same deposiloiy, 
bnt the place of conceabnent pointed oat by the stnnger, 
bad hitherto escaped bis notice. He soon discovered the 
secret drawer ; bat the papers of which be was in search 
wera ^ane ! The spirit of mischief was again foiled, but 
fbepromptingsof his e?ilgenios did not forsake him. He 
.sat down, and, for parposes of the blackest mabgoitf, 
orged a series of evidences, as a developaient of plana 
and proceedings, that would at once have branded Sir 
Ue vy as a cowBid and a tiaitar. These letters he sealed 
up, and calling for the mcsKngery cosamitted the packet 
into his hands. - 

** You have 1% Henry's ordeiB to lay these before 
the King 1" said Hildebrand. 

*' I have," repbod the eawiy. 

" Then hastai to court, and so good speed.--Stay — 
when yaa meet Sir Henry Fairiaz,. ofier faim an old man's 
sympathy .and condolence, o rBreak -the matter to bim ten- 
derly. And when he letums 1 will say no nme. 

Away-^thy mission hath need of despatch." • 

The soldier made a slight inclination of the head as he 

Hildebrand Wentworth sat down to reap the fruits ef 

this rich harvest of vHIany — his own right-hand planting. 

The foil fruition of it he now seemed leady to enjoy. But 

days' and weeks passed by, and stall found bim feverish 

, snd aoaoous. The fate of the childien— whether the woik 


of defltnietion had, or had not been accompfifihed-t-wae 
still to him a matter of uncertainty. He had oAeo aent 
in aeaicfa of the niffiana, but they had not been heaid of 
St their asual hannts. Guilt wUapered that all was not 
yet oompletei Restleis and oppremed by some undefined' 
and terrible apprehensions, be reseWed to end his donblSf 
and, if pomiUe, procure an interYiew with die instivments 
of his crime. He expected to obtain some ehie to their 
proeeedingB by a visit to Middleham Tower, hoping to find 
thete some traces of dieir foul ofience. 

It was not far fiom the oloee of a soft Autumn aAeiw 
neon, that he gained the nde bridge below the waterfiUI. 
He shvddered as the narrow Umnk vibnlsd to his tmad, 
and he looked upon the ever-tossing gulf beneath. The 
blai&nen of darkness was upon his w^sk, and he flew, as 
if some demon had putsaed him, cfimbing, with almost 
breathless haste, the iteep and winding siaiicase that led 
ftom the bridge to te ruined fortreis aboiw. 

From a mined doorway he ascended a nanow stone stair/ 
and he had penetrated for into the intuier of that part of 
the castle which yet in some measure remained entire^ 
ere, with a deep gnan> he staitod into neenseionsness of 
his satna^on. It was an appalling scene of sc^tude and 
decay. The realities to which he almost instantaneously 
awoke» mig^t httre stailled a less guilty spirit than w4iat 
abode in the bosom of Hildebrand Wentworth» A long 
gallery, upholden hf huge pillan,- dindy raoeded in the 
dislanee> which wae terminated by a long and narronf 
caeement. On each side». broken, but richly variegated 



praised by t}i8<<Uik and corered ascbes, gaie a strange 
and awM aliasacter to the grotesque lefiectiou cheqsanng 
^flooKt NsiRiw etneams of liglit dickered on the dense 
vapoun, feadsied visible by thor gleam. Isrohmtan^ 
did UildabfaDd pass en. Impelled as ifby aooift unseeik 
bttlieaierless power, be dared not to eetiace his footsteps. 
Slow and feviiil • faecaaie his tread, as he tnTeceed the 
long and dreary vista. Eveiy saase was new in Hall 
eieioise. His Unities mndeied more acaie by the extie- 
rnily of tenor he endafed: his ear.cai^ttbealiglitest 
sound — ^his eye the leas^ moliott'lbat gjimmnred aesoss 
hia path. Sonatimea aierrifiQ shape would a|^kear to 
glictet past: he bcushed the cold and dammy damps fiam 
bis bfloar^ and it vanished i 

Suddenly/ adoor opened at the extreBiity- of the gaileiy, 
and a faint Ug^t- stmamed from the erovke* Voioeo^ 
children's voices — ^were heard is tfaeehHtaber. Hetoahed 
enviaid* Rage, frantic and nneoaiioiiied, pUMiwed bun, 
as be behdd'tha veiy babes, doomed as victims to his IbU 
avanoe, in ail ilbe bloom of health and inneceoce, on* 
Joonscioas of .dangev, boimdin^ ihnm|h the. apartment 
togetber, with th^ noise and protector Afioe! Qoaded 
by insatiate .cevenge^ >be dmw a poigaard'CNMn hia vest, 
and jrushed eacthe/uaofiending of&pnng of.hia beae&ctor. 
Aik» shrieked.! &he .aMempted to throw herself between 
them end their foe,. but was too for o£E to accomplish her 
purpose ^ his annwaa too stnoi and hisstrekelOD wdden: 
bat era -the steel bad pBsotd its victims; that ana was 


anwtBd I He looked wamA, and a fnnale flgitfe, loomfy 
envdoped in a daik ckrnk, had again raaecied them from 
death. .It was the tane form that had befine atorpoied 
to anatch dwm from the fangf of their nmoiselew enemy. 
Id the tudden spring ibe made, her garment flew aside. 
Hildebrand gazed, silently, bot with a look of horror too 
wild and intense to be eonochred. lie sesmed to leeog- 
niae the intruder : his lips moved rapidly, as he made a 
OQQvalsed effort to apeak-— 

*' Thee*— whom the waveahad swallowed I Have the 
seas and watera given up their' dead V he faintly ex- 
claimed, ahncat gasping for atterance* 
' ** Monster I canst thou look upon this form agaisy" 
she cnsd, '*aiid thine orbs retain their sight) But . I 
have done," she meekly continued^ ** Heaven hach yet a 
blessing fot the innocent 1 Bat thy cup of iniquity is lull 
— ^y doom is at handl I have tmstad thee, O aay 
Father t and I tnist thee still." 

It waathe mueh-injafed and peneented wife of Sir Heary 
Fairfax, who now stood before the abashed miscreant. 

M Away 1" she cried, ** to Heaven I leave my venge* 
anee and thy crime ! Henoe-Ho thy home 1 Thine, M 
1 say? Soon, monster I shalt thou be chased from Ay 
lair, and the wvsnged victim regaitt hia right." 

HiUelwaiid, awed and confounded, lelcaced his path, 

.deeply bmodang over'sosne more cvmiagi plot lo ensnare 

this pray. He had passed the bridge, and on attempting 

to rsmovnt his steed, his attention was diraeted to a doud 

of dusty and a pale glimmer. oC arms in the evening lippht. 


Two honemen emerged, th«r steeds studded 'with goets 
of fcem, and in an Instant one ofdiemaligfaBed before tlie- 
arch hypderite. It was Sir Hemy Fair&z ! 

«*Have I canght thee herer* shouted the knight. 
" What nusdiief hast dM>a been now perpetratittg? Seim 
that traitor!" 

In a moment was Hiidebnmd pfetented from all chanee 

"Thy machinations are defeated— thy yillanies me re- 
vealed — and now vengeance wffl make quick leeompense." 

Hildebrand prostrated bidiself on the ground in Ifae 
most abject humiliation, and'besooght has men^. 

" I will not h'aiin thee, wretch 1'^ exclaimed the gallant 
knight : " to a highiir power I leave the woik of retribotioil. 
Lead the way; thou'shalt be witneas to our meeting—^ 
wife, children, 4li ! Our bliss will to thee be a punish- 
ment more miserable than the most r^ied tortures thy 
wretched body could enduie«~-On, on'!*' 

Hildebrand,' with' imbecile agony, grasped at the veiy 
stones for succour. He thcto rutshed towatds the hiidge, 
and, ere his purpose could be anticipated, with one wiU 
yell, precipitated fafanself into the waten ! 

A few lines will suiffice by wsy of eKplaMlkm m ihts 

unlooked-for termination of their sufieiings. 

When Lady Fairfax fled fiom Ravendale Castle, in 
order to elude the search of her toraieiitor, who had the 
audacity to threaten by force to make her his wile, dw 
^rew off her cloak aad head-diess, laying tbam on the 


river's brinkt that it might appear as though she had ac** 
complished her own destmction. To the care of the 
faithful Alice she had committed her chiitlren, and like- 
wise the secret of her concealment. Alice was in continual 
correspondence with her unfortunate mistres^ ; and great 
was the joy and exultation with which she communicated 
the arrival of a messenger from her lord, whom she had 
long mourned as dead. Providentially no interview took 
place between Hildebrand and the stranger on the night 
of his arrival ; and sufficient time intervened to enable 
Lady Fairfax to make a desperate attempt, in the hope 
of gaining possession of the papers for which he had been 
sent. She well knew Hildebrand would not give up 
credentials that might ensure his lord's return. In this 
attempt she succeeded, and with these she m^t the envoy 
on his return from the castle ; and disclosing all the tor- 
tuous and daring 'villany of Hildebrand^ committed the 
real documents into his care, instructiitg him at the same 
time to lay before her sovereign the narrative of her wrongs. 
Soon was the captivity of Sir Henry terminated; and joy 
heightened by the past, and chastened by the severity of 
their misfortunes, attended the remainder of their earthly 
career. — ^To a numerous posterity they left this motto— 
'' Ferily, there is a God that rufeth in the earth/" 


A Dnunfttlc Skcteh. 


Scene, the ouMde of a hovel, en the edge •fm cemmmu A tU- 
iage i» the ditttmee. A crowd of ruoHca anembted. 


Off with the witch, I say ; well try the test — 
I warrant me the hag will swim. The fiend 
Will be at hand to help — come, neighbours, come. 
Assist to hale her to the riYer*s brink ; 
Then we shall see how like a cork she floats 
Upon the rapid waters. 


Down with her ; 
She has performed her wicked freaks too long. 
The mildew hangs upon the com ; the earth 
Teems with unwholesome damps ; whole flocks of sheep 
Are smitten with disease — and she has wrougfat 
These deadly plagues. Beneatik the waning moon 
I saw her gather poisonous herbs, and heard 
The spell shA inly muttered. Off with her I 



Ay, to the river itraight; the witch shall swim! 


Nay, nay, good people, hold your eager hands ; 
The poor old dame is innocent, indeed 
She cannot harm you if ih% would, — so old. 
So pressed by want. O, if she had the power 
To work forbidden spells, she would not starve 
Upon a morsel wrung from the cold hand 
Of most reluctant charity : then pause, 
Nor for an idle prejudice commit 
This cruel deed. 


She has been proved a witch, 
A foul, rank witch. 'Twas but a fortnight since 
She passed our door, and out of wicked spite. 
Because the silly children set a cur 
A snarling at her heels, to verjuice turned 
A cask of stout October. 'Tis in vain 
We nail the guardian horse-shoe o'er the porch, 
And place witch-straws across the threshold, still 
Our cattle die, and still the noisome blight 
Destroys the labourer's toil, the tanner's hope. 


I drove the canker'd beldam from my gate. 

And straight a loathsome toad dragged its foul length. 

And shed its venom o'er the Tosemaiy, 

The thyme, and ai^, diying for wimer's store; 



The hens break all the eggs, and we may cham 
Until our arms drop off— no batter comes. 
Strange cats, with glaring eyes, some of the brood 
She nurtures in her hovel, roam abroad. 
And dart at people's throats. She sends the owl 
To hoot around our hoas6s. Bftakes, and ftogs. 
And slimy reptiles, birds of night, theVcti' •* ^ 
The croaking raven, and the hedge-hog grim. 
Creatures who fly from met^.are.with.thlis ji^ 
Familiar. And isi her ipite sbe.s^nd^ • , 
The wiU-o'-wisp to gnidd ihd wa^d^rec ofx 
To some deep bog; our hind was l^tem-iBd 
But yeitaniigh^ and earns home soaied to death. 


She fears nor Heaven ndr iftaa; isneterseen 
At church or meeting : whea she^munhieftpcayers. 
She says them backwards*' ' Oatupoatiw witch-^ 
Ay, to tfaeifver! D6ym i^- her^Isajr* 

THE WlTt^U. 

You wtli Afttf btf coniimt'Mlitil, jou have 
My life, you greedy bjood-hounds I Can I stir 
A step without a gibe) Pitfalls are set 
About my path, and I am sorely braised 
By sticks and.stoaes cast by the village fiy. 
Whene'er I wandej forth. Your iny>s are taught 
To maim my cate. I soori shall be without 
A shed to screen me from the sky— the roof 

THk witch's oabtAL. 399 

Is pulled about mj ears. The murnin take 
Your beasts — the red curse han^ on all ! 


Suy I Stay I 
Nay, do not ooiw^ good noth^.. Yon should strive, 
With meeknMS and with gentleoMs, to turn 
Their stubborn hearts. 

THS wiTca* 
Turn stones and rocks, *twonld be 
A taskaseasy. Preach notpeaoe lo me ; . 
I hate the canting vermin, and VXL spend 
My latest breaili in railing. Blisters be 
Upon your felanderous lips !— diamine and pestilence 
Feed on your vitals 1 

. KMT BV«T1C. 

Peaee, liwifiiulientlied wptcB 1 
Shall wr sliay tamely by* and hear her cune 1 
Seise her, good n«^tabi«% dng her to the airaam* 

Down with the witch f down with the tnricked hag I 

(Et Uer , a Traoefler on k§neku^.) 


Oh, sir, for charity arrest the mad 
And mniderous purpose of these credulous, 
tffKnmaifc pcasauts. They win put to death 
A pooroU harmless creature, something given 
In tmth, to evfl qwaking, but indeed 



WoaM be a theme for mernnieiit akme. 
Were tbey not bent upon a crael tesb— 
They'll drown tiiorwrelebed victim for a witch! 


It were in vain 
To reason with a crowd so obstinate 
And mischieYoas in their intentions : — stand aside* 
And I will strive to lead them to adopt 

A better ordeal. My good fi^ds, lestnin 

This violence : there is no need to drag 
Yon wretched creature to the river's brink; 


You have a surer test within your reach — 

You all have Bibles ? In a Christian land, 

'Twere sin to doubt it. Place widua the ecales 

The sacred volume of the Seriptuies, and* 

However small, however light it be» 

Nay, should one leaf alone lemain, 'twiUcink 

Like lead to earth, while &e convicted witiA ' 

Shall fly above the beacm: but should the book 

Be lightest in the scale, then be assured 

That you have wronged this woman.-^W1iodkall my 

That she is guilty, if this holy book 

Proclaim her innocent 1 


• Vr^Vi ixy the lestr- 
It must be true. 


ftttt mtiTte. 

TUf BiMe't i^MfHMt kiga. 
Twill weig;fa the beldam dofm. Now, aeigbbotir Ote» 
Your tcalet are handy*-— -We have bees to blame ; 
She has ootweigfaed the iaciedTolnffle,*-eee, 
It aeemt a feather in the balance. 


Go to yonr homef , and ponder on the word 
Of Him who gracionaly voochsafied to give 
That holy volvme to a ainftil wodd. 
Oh, know ye not* that vHien thebleMed Son 
Of light and peace gave op hie liie for oa^ 
The power of eriliptfits waa deatfoyedl 
live not in ignonmoe of Him wha chained 
The fiendaof daifcneat, and to all mankind 
Ofiaed a nee ledewption* 

Haa the BiUe amed met 

The woid of God haa saved yon ! O, repent. 
And torn in hnoible thankfulness to Him 
Who vrfll preserve your sooL You now rejoice 
Bsfiie year wretched body has escaped 
Yiem piesent peril: bat a nobler boon 
Cooits your acoeptance. Flee away from sin* 
And seek a Messed inunortality. 


Thaaks, thanks, good sir i it waa a happy tkanfjbL, 

940 TBB VlTOl's OB9BAL. 

Ladf , te dot Hf fi^BH^e INpe 
la cvoj evil chaneeof my ad life. 
To teek fer lid, fer confaft, and feritiaigth. 
From holy wnL Stndf widi kumble md 
Hub blond bock, and joa will neier need 
Aw^V'' cwiiMcilnr. Thoae mtict feared 
The word of God; and. Lady, m^ I say. 
Your infliipnrft waa weak, becanae dMy heaid 
Nodiing, ia:ve woridly wiadom, to oppose 
Their idle npeistxtioii. 



What time the son, at this sweet 
The east with transient beauty stains^ 

Say, mortal, dost thou know the reason 
Why the bird of mom complains? 

" Day's bright mirror,"— thus he sin^, 
" To me a mournful truth discloses ; 

A night of life has spread its wings 
And fled, while man in sloth reposes*' 



0» BOff goodly ia tte a^, 
Iflrttl! uteilhysantimilb; 
IVlieik « met^A trace i a e co wb 
A4fiy fsoii 9mA hoti^ detdft. 
And «|.btocfcrtti,.lid0.l)y nde, 
.PeafcoAiUy thy tribes obids l-^ 

iAvtto lioly'inlctfoii shed 
Upon AiRjtt^ raveraid bead, 
Thtt with eoMliesit odoan blended, 
Copioni on his beaid descended^ 
Thence diatiilmg on his vest ; 
like the genial dews that rest» 
Mmnotil on thy pastotal heights ;-^ 
Spnadk that peiuse itft calm delights, 
Shed£ng hea:?enly fragranoe round : 
Eichest UessingB there abound. 
For where love fiOs saints unites, 
P^ace, and fceaTen, and Ged are foimd. 


MT fBB EST* 9. A. OOZ» I.L* !»• 


Whoxtsb has a Uwdi of tkat lonntio aaiuibil^f 
whkh 80 frequently impaiti a dUMa t» Ihrtwatiiny 4ajs 
of yoath, and rentes llie gifllj- ■WfiqilWt •£ fmniftiT 
pleaaure wlule oonten^blmg'tlii'VoiaKt cf natue^cKi 
eanly imagine tiie cadi aa i u eMI :of a lanble teM{^ 
woodlands and gi«fcs and I^Bs mad'^itim^^taMmM 
the first time aiid iBtoiitjmtiltiikfi by the selimjaad 

Hie moniiig ^ras YMbdmi/'^m*^ < 
it was not one of Aoit datr, dbuMmM, s^nring 
which fill aswitfa tfaooghlivf jpMMlfaMl^ 
there was no thorn in the patb oi^ intlieiioioautf intMait 
man, and no shade utx)ii the bfigiktBiss ef Jus bUask 8^ 
it was a day of spring, and <mt$ptmk wMuifiwr wfJsnpi 
clouds whidi, lifter a seasett of drsoght* vns smr and 
anon dropping down fiitosst apoft iha pnataiii of.iM 
wilderness. The liltie htBs» eov>eS8d «»itk hodiiiif plant]r 
and reidant .smiks, were tieginning te vqoioe ^m ewvy 
ude. ' The snow-white Uossoae^f te Ahani pQwdind 
every hedge-row ;'th6g<eiiyerhn0n.waAed a thewand 

Tax MORNINO nAllSLE. 943 

ftAwan, and gave to laagni^hig life the touch of lenovaled 

' Uoom and beauty; the nistie swain weat forth to his Ja- 

boor, and the wealthy idler to his annmenaent; hink of 

vasied note and wing poued forth their dioiceBt strains ; 

Although man is a aodai beiog by the teiy law and 
conetitntion of his nature, yet many of his dioioest plea- 
•aaraaaietDbefouiideBr ofaooieibf. Then is an escite* 
ment produced by the ordinary inteteonne of life» ftem 
fwhioik'il iaooeasiDaaBy desirable to escape; as watt le 
•flMid thet imn ef oeotinnaL effinrtt as the leb^ne into 
naiA in di ftf e n cefc . We .are much affected by 
aad.. ass sol^ect to g^eat mental re-actions. 
^The Moat. 'pehfeotsolitnde and destitution of real enjoy- 
iMBrtris, .pedi^, ihat which is cueated. by the uninter- 
4a|itad, oeaMlessi and wearisonkS buatleof 8ocie^» whaie 
the crowd of ideas faerents all though, and 4ie stir of 
ii^ pinelndaniail mniRBtw^ .whila^ bestjud 4^«M«t 
4iD4.aBoetiflefol seeie^iift oftan that .which the raeesieaef 
'l^he'^sild or the weed. fomiBhy.irhero a hind of supema- 
. laial stiUnesa bespeaks an all-prasent Intelligence, and 
-f#(unpai thft^piiit to hold a, secret and mysterious con* 
'«Mr •$ wtditheenamity o^thejnst and the future. 
' It ie oaaaos, .that whan gna^^iratian is toMghf, even .bj 
•Ae mest- legitimate metho^U^nd ii^ the. most promising 
etjeds, -it is: efian missed ; and thoi^h you purine the 
■shadowr yo9 can newer overtake it. The xagnlar plan 
md' •seienai. dctegniaation. to e%oy. a fin^ proepeet.ora 
ebeeiM day, is eomimily fMl^ to the lejNiU ; while the 


att onazpected but wdoome visil^. . Thg^ w^ ywcjflpiy 
liie ctiie on tiie 'momulg alrMd^ nifentipikedt. mtiMpi^^vdi^ 
ping frDBH the Mdal ciicle, fm; tibe subpie pip|tiiw» #f 
ft few minntes' reeieatum, I was tafaffiedf, l^-a 
Mon of ittrMthn ftcenesy into 9.fQfu*hma^ wattfc : 
Tuming finom a pabEc iatp 9i pxntb patk^l. 
^noed to follow its unknown direGtkm. iLsil ptxtiy ai^ 
leiieled Bid village, the hnm of aoeie^. for aome. ^mn laS 
Upbn the ear, while the lowly ctweUngsaod 4etiMMl 
(eo^bigesof the middHng and infepof claaawApe iAloiViffiii. 
A tsm l9ioughts were natoiaUy i^ven to contoptniinl^ 
franqnilfity, tod uncorrapted li% ; w^ieh. hahifHwui..^ 
^ claaa are Mj»j0^i^f2 (periia|)s with too little4if.tnith) 
ii^ pMgtio«6cate. What the Eomtn "poeik, seya of. DmA, 
a« intmding alike sttto tlie tents of poiratty and the mfn* 
tfoniii ef i^ealih, may hb HlBrmed wi(^ equal certainty of 
"Bitquietade and Diubid ; and' this muk e?er be ^ fine 
'white tb^ ^ring of h^ippineBS or'miaeiy ii to be foand> in 
-^ tiiitid itself, and not in ihe good or e^ of the exienMtf 

Pldaoed^^ith the blodtnin^ liedge-hiws atvS exlendtiqgr 
hndsckpe, which a gentle a^6ntbttmghtgiadul%helflie 
the eye, I proceeded beyond my puijMHe, doid wanchied 
fiom 'the beaten liack into a wildeinese of aweetk At 
length, a rural seat offered an accbinmodation of which 
^e weary stranger readily availed himself. It was jAaoti 
1)etieath Use shadow of an e£abei#ering tree, and coasistad 
' ^afrtly of some of ite Ifelled bftoches. The hand of adili- 



gent cultivator had evidently laboued to produce pie- 
^ tioesqiie beiuty ; shrubs, plants, and vegetatton of a larger 
-growth, were trained into an arched fotm, to a distance 
beyond the means of ascertaining by the eye ; while the 
.ctDaeiy-shiven pedt below famished a velvet carpet be^ 
.neath the cenopy of leaves and flowers. It resembled a 
Jiibltorraneoas passage ; but the sonny gleams which broke 
.intD.the ttlent recess here and there, producing a rich in- 
4ermingling of light and shadow, proved its contrivance 
•mtfier.for the'hvfaig than the dead. It was situated in 
*theimmediate vkini^ of a magnificent dwelling, to the 
.vnit domiin of which, this and the neighbouring wood« 
sndmai^an adjoining field, belonged. Every part of 
"ihai itnuoneDted scene bespoke, not only the profuse Ube- 
««Hly of the Univefsal Parent, in rendeiing the earth pro- 

'dnethe of whatever could gratify the senses, or supply the 
necessities of man; but the power of property, which fiii^ 
nidiM so many means of rich and varied enjoyment. 
-'■ The squirrel, widi that alertness which is chtkracteristic 
of the smoofli-coated aniinal, vvas leaping from tiee to 
tiee, gliding ntpiiHy along die most attenuated ramifica- 
<bns, running down the slippery stem in defiance of its 

» • • • • ' 

'^perpendicularity, and springing again, with instinctive 
M^, to its former elevation ; — ^the busy insect was plying 
am taric, and humming his accustomed tune ; — a thousand 
diiiping, twittering, fluttering tenants were abroad in the 
grove ; while the Uacklnrd, and birds of deeper melody^ 
poured kntk dkeir voluntary and cheerful strains : — the 
woodpedDur waked the echoes from some smitten. bianch 

946 TBS Momimio mAV suu 

«t ftm;— the onoi cnaked aloft; or fte )dm aoM 
slowly ind m^oticallj above the topmoal boag^ dwt- 

ing hiUier and Uuther Ips piwciiig eje. in quest of Ins 
haplas prqr; — c^ the ir o o dwaa at inlaTak made die 
iinest reaomid with tba hlnvt vitfi wUch he levtdkd 
.thf stalelj dwelfing of aone qdtan djfidlty. Aaon, 
and there waa a nmrcnal hnshj itwaa tetpnet of tke 
Krave. and meditation Mi eethioiied in her dmen aid 
talent lecMses: tfaera seeapkedjisitheraoiuidnomotiaii,*-^ 
till 9X iBOgOk the breaiUdog^gale prodiiOQd a. soft,. 8tiil|r 
fOBh^ resembling ^ tide.^f ooean when it breaks cahiil^ 
mpon a distant shore* To awakened fimcy it appeased 
the great flood of ages, flomng by with an nniiiffled anitee 
and a tranwiiliafiidity* Qn that stream, viedioa^t» hati 
many fessels of. gallant trim am bma. ticnig;. andhow 
many saccessrei generations axe wafted into the boiuiiilgw 
and fathomless deep ! 

It is natoial to attach ideas of pteasoae to aqsoes ^ 
magnificence. What is formed and anaii|pBd &r the par- 
pose of affording delight, we conclude most gjwtify j and 
from a sense of ei^qyment produced by soch a apena jm 
thii^ Uie feeling of secret congratulation, «pring>ngi»tyeBiy 
of the lordly possessor, is soon enkindled. What aoniQai 
of rich and varied pleasure couM he pall his own! T3m» 
was beauty for the eye, firagcance for the am^ melody M 
the ear, ^est for. the wearied body, and p(»ce £»r thp 
troubled mind ! Here he could escape i^om apcie^^ or 
;^Qoder he could enter it by a gravelled .twneei^ tivaugli 
at^nda^t n^alf^ , to ^ spleoftid nunaioii [ . Othoca ncn 


intrad«rf--lie wis at koiam r tUb giovM were ^i the Wida' 
were hi», (he ^reeh earth waa iUf / and ttieve it a otiairm 
in property, pouetMout dittimeHem, and power/ 

Wben reflection languidied, I etatted ihxn my humble 
■eat, anid punmed my walk* At the end of Uut enchant- 
ing Tista wai a gate, which opened into a spacious park, 
the moie immediate doonaiii of the noUeman upon whose 
gnmnds I had intruded- As the egre, although loelung> 
over a sur&ce of several miles, could discern no ebdosute 
or fenoe, the nund received the hnpnisftiOB of bouudlsM 
extent, overspread here and there with eoppioes and luAs 
of forest tiees, which oflfoted a refreshing shade fioom th^ 
sfimmer heat. The undulatioui of the la^ were peculi* 
ejly beautiiul. At proper intervals, half-conoealed aMhes, 
grottoes, or sculptured gateways presented themsebel, 
whose only pnrpope was to improve the Idea of a grandeur 
already suffieieatly excited without their aid. Ikis6miidiitt«* 
tipns were flqcks of sheep opllectiBd on some riaing'grouhd, 
to which the auflior of the Farmer^fe Boy so bgenionsi^ 
and elegantly compares a peculiar anangemeat of Usefey 
clouds, widi which the admirers of nature never ful to be 
delighted, and whidi would make the lovers of Scripture 
and its inimitable phraseology, think of " the cattle upon 
a thousand hilb." Here and there the spotted deiar were 
to be seen, browsing the branches, or gathering in groups 
under Ae guidance of some antleied monarch, vrho marched 
majestically in the midst of them^ In fiont of the mansion 
was seen a person of commanding appearance, pacing to 
and fro, and seemingly saying— as the bitds were singing 


BnMHid hfan, Bttd the aaiflnb itoe gtmbolmg before him. 
Bad the gleeauag light was iHaminBting his Io% brow, 
tod pouripg lis sofkesl futtBace «»ver the whole ciicaniie- 

•' I am meoMth of bU I wmwf, 
Mr light then la nviie to diapote.** 

How Buny hwked up with Idsdlmg emotioiis of envy Bt 
one who was thus paciag the very smninit of eaitfaly en- 
joynMUt ! The poor, wreldied labourer, whose fe^leiiesi 
scarcely allowed him to endbnf tiMrweeriiMifls'of his way, 
bending beaeaA flie wqig ii i rfhBi twden/anythe greater 
opppcmion of misemble'deUBptede, MeiBet'W heave a 
■gfa of deep sadaeas^ the meiiiBchilly tjoncruf of his on^ 
condition; and tobe itod^lfr baiitlbhhinth^hmgaage 
of impeaiaoned con^Adnt at' lite unequal distnbntion of 
good and evil. Ak! 'b^tiied not have ditoe'so: fer 
while he looked sEpMMiMtitM^^eseeMoroPtis domain, 
'* clothed in purple and fine ItMn,^ lie bdHsl^Miin in 
die blaze of day, ^ikidinlhe eMii of i a e en feei^iJJe mag- 



■V I. a. L. 


It wu a luinmer night* 

And I looked upon te iky. 
When middenly a light 

f laiked in its iplendour by. 
I watched the rod flash ]Mus 

On its shining path of flaoe* 
And a wish rose in my heart. 

That mine migh^ be the sane. 

And when it toqched the earth, 
There rase a pillar of fire, . 

As 'twere a spirit's birth ; 
And stronger grew my wish, 

nil as I passed next day. 
Where fell that radiant light. 

But blackened ashes lay ; 
The forest oak was sear. 

The grass had lost its green : 
Reproof !— how coaU I wish 

SnA oonnw for me had been 1 


352 mxmiab's adtbvt. 

Behold them — ^pilgrim tribes no moie — 

The promised land their own ; 
And blessings theirs of sea and shore. 

To other realms nnknoim : 
From age to age a fsroixred line 
Of mighQr kings, and seem divine. 

A temple and a throne : — 
Not then, tmt in their horn* of shame. 
Woe, want, and weakness — then ''He cane." 

Not in the earthqualn's rendBng force. 

Not in the blasting Gie, 
Not in the.itioBg wtnd^s rosldng oovise, 

6ame He, thdr sonTs desire ! 
Forenmners of his coming these, 
Proelaiming o«er eaith. and seas, 

As Gon, his might and ire i^^ 
The sliU, small ▼oioe^the Jieyering dove, 
Proved him.]ldesstah-«-Bpoke him *' Love \" 

Of life the way, of light the spring 

Eternal, nndefiled ; 
Redeemer, Prophet, Priest, and King— ^ 

Yet'caine he as a child! 
And Zion^sfavoured eye growti dim, 
Knew not her promised Lord in Him, 

The lowly' and the mild ! 
She saw the manger, and the tree. 
And scornful cried—*' Can this be He !" 



*' And the angel whick I saw afssd npoA t^ les and fi|>i>D the 
eaiHi, lifted up hit hand to heaTen, and wrare by Ri» who 
liveth for erer an4 #v«ffa-Md >i4u> ffialed lieawa and the 
things which therein are, and the earth and. tl^ things 
which thcreixt are, and the tea Wd the fhinge which are 
therein, thfl* tk«t.4iMRid be Tuift M Ioii0e».»» 

More awfiil than tbv lyidaiig of tKoM wlo^ . 

Which in one nigiit the pnd« d Eggrpt flleir ; . 
More awfal than the voioe. which bust thft spriagv 

Of hidden waters, when tbf tempwt blew, ■ 
And blade clouds, like a funeral poll, were ipieBcl. 
Over a world of dying and of dead. 

TiMB ! — ^wbat a word is thtt ! It compnhends 

All we have ever known, or con conceive*'- 
Possessions, passions, relatives, and fiiends. 

And all the feelings and tiie things vikich weave 
The web of consciousnei»-«4heBe shall be past. 
Changed, and for ever, for that one loud blast 
Shall shut up all ? Time shall no lon^r be« 
Bot henceforth measmeless elexmt;j\ 


How has it vanished !— gone the ansous strife 
Of those who toiled for wealth or for renown. 
The honours and delights of men, the frown 
Or smile of mortals — evenUfe 
With all its cares, how fiitiie will it seem. 
Passed like the shrift departing of a dream f 

Yes, shall the fidr.creatiop, fields and 9owen> . . 
^ Winter and Summer, Spring and Autumn, cease ; 
•Nor Dight nor day enwieasdi their'ciiclfaig hours ; 
] Nor sun awake the mom, nor moon increase ; 
Nor longer shall those tsnnkling waioh-fires keep 
Their nightly gaaid o'er hill and vale and deep. 

Then will th»liie of man indeed he^ : 
Here life is but a short and imtiy day ; 
The* win the soul her mighty pow^ display, 

Snrpanittg all she ever yet hath been. 
As mght is distanced by the noontide day. 

That certain, never-ending state should rest 
Before lis evep—^tiiat should be the end. 
The first-of idl our thoughts— to that we tend ; 

And we shall then be cursed or (iilly blest* •.. 

Thank^l for all that gilds our lot to-day. 

Oh ! let us strive to live, when Timb shall pass away. 


' ■ . -I 

A^ legend of th« South of Inland. 
Wiih mm§ Jltmark9 on Iriih Hofy Welti, 


' Thb chief amusement of to excursion which I recently 
made through the South of Ireland, was collecting fr6m 
the mouths of the peasantry various legendary tales ; and 
I found, on more than one occasion, that the most fit« 
Yourable 0]^portumty afibrded me of dmng* so, wait at a 
kind of religious meeting termed a pattern. 
. This meeting was generally held in the vicinity of a 
well whicE had been dedicated to a patron sunt, from 
whence probably originated the name. The belief that 
die waters of these h<dy wells possess virtues, which at 
certain seasons have miraculous operation; collects around 
them the most superstitious of the Irish peasantiy, in &e* 
fond hope of receiving relief for their infirmilaes. The 
fifUi chapter of St John may be referr^ to in proof of 
the antiquity of the custom ; and, no doubt, in the exAf 
ages of Christianity, at these natural fonts, converts re-^ 
eeived the first rites ci the church, whicbexcHed a feeliog- 
of pious regard towards the spot. • 

356 IKISH HotY wsi.t«. 

Tli« lalutaty exercise of t pilgiimage to iocli jdaces of 
npaUA sanctity — often, the mediciiial ppoperfy of the 
well itstlf, and, above all, the fiatfa jtoed ia the visit— 
efleet cures which find to keep afite tketrttfi^oaxy yene- 
ration fsr holy w^. If one in eveiy hoadred devotees 
receiveB any benefit, the miracle is soon noised abroad, 
with the usual enggeration of oral transmisbion.' 

The annexed dcetch exfailnts the general character of 
fhe commencement of a pattern. As such assemblies are 
composed of those who believe in the performance of 
miracles through all ages of the world, legends of all 
tecr^ons, but more particularly those of di£krent saints, 
are told more freely than under other circumstances, or iu 
efter sitottdons. From several so related to me, I select 
the foUomng, chie% on account of the extreme simpHci^ 
•f its dictionr Indeed, such was the chaim of this sim* 
plicity of style over me, that, at the time of hearing, I ielt 
Kttle incfined to question the truth of so marvellous a tale. 
The sceneiy around me may have had, and probably had, 
ts influence. It was a beautiful summer'Hv -evening, and, 
weary with walxtng, I had saft down to rest upon a grassy 
bank, close to a holy wdl. ' I felt refreshed at the sight 
of the clear cM wetter, through which pebbles glistened, 
and sparks of silvecy air shot upwards : in short, I wis 
in ibe temper to be pleased* Annold woman had con- 
€39ded her pffl^erSk and was about t» depsxt, when I 
entered into coaveraatikm with her, 99A 1 have written the 
iwsrwpt^ in w^ich $be tdsled Wim tl» legend of the 
Song of the Little BinL 

> Thetftle, iKmafer, ifl Bot pecnilivtolrdud; &M 
flciiMtefBkmofitwill^^randmtlie " Piato FMto di 
Taij Esemj/' t coltoctioii <if Catholic Ifigeadf, in^wra it is 
i;iTen a» ralaied by Hennciii, in hii "Speonlum £x* 


' " Mttqr yMiB S90» tikore wtt a Toy idifiow and holy 
nun, one of the ttonks of |i convent, nnd ho wat one dny 
kneeling at hii- pn^ren in the gaiden of his motOM^i 
when he heard a little bird anging in oneof Ae roae^ 
treet of die gaiden, and tiiere never was any dung thai he 
had heaid in the wodd, w sweet as the lebg of thaft 
little bitd« 

". And the holy man loie np from his knees» where hk 
was kneeling at his prayeis, to hslea to its long; Ifor'he 
thought he never in all his lile heaed any tiUag so 

< " And the' tittle bird, after nagingfi» some time knget 
in the rose-tree, flew away to a grove at leme diitfmiffr 
Itbm the ihon as l eiy, and the' holy maalonb^ it/ to 
listen to its luhging; for he £dt as if he oenld never be 
tired of listening to the sweet song tbst it was singing 
W of its' little threat. 

" And the little bird after that went away to another 
tdistant tree, and song there for awhi]e„ and then again te 
another tree, and so on in the same manner, bat evi6 
farther and fkilher away from the monastery^ a^ the 
holy man Sfill following it farther and iartfier and fiuthtf, 
stiU hslewiig (Mghted tetts enchantiag song. 

38i rnuj^m^.^ th%i4«tj,s AiBi»r 

*' ii«t. at iMt hid nm ^dif9^ to gjjife ^im m* U was 
gmwiBg late in tke 44|r« and Ha natarae^ to tkaci»vei9ii 
aad aa )ta afpfpacbed it ia tte^veoiag, tHa son «^ aei- 
tiig ip tlia* wait imilji aH the tiioat heaY«i^ ^oara tliat 
were ever seen in all this wodtd, and whim fae.caB^.inla 
the convent, it waa nigiit-fiUl. 

" And ha wa^ quia siHpnfed at ev«q[ Udag liaanvri ^ 

ihiv vare.aU ntfange iSuaa al^oat im m ^ p a a a ^l i y< 

thai he had never eean befine s aacL the vact alaaa itaafiL 
axtdevcQr thing a^nt it, 4!fe^9iHld ^>e ata^j^^j^ tftwadi 
and altegdhar it poemed entirely difieient frana wiiatit 
ifm tihe» ha lilt iftth*inarmng| and thii;gaidanrwl» voi 
like the garden where he had been kneeling at hiB dcti" 
iMna vrlien ha'first heaid the siagingiaf (ha little hii^' 
.. M.A94 ivhili^ hft wia wondenng ataU Ihalhe aai^, ooa 
af tha aoa^9otll»<ovfttnl[ oMie nploJuai, and dia hal^ 
man qnestioned hint-*' Brodier,. what is tha oanaa af aH 
Ikesa sinngatahaBgBi tiiil jhina tirtrm TJart hitn sioos the 
marniugl' .• ' j . . . v; .. . ■ .; -^ ■ 

gieaily at his <pies^n, and asked Inm what he meant hy 
the chai^^ea sncemoming ; for sam there was no change; 
that all was just as before : and then he said, ' Brother/ 
why do you mk these strange questiaiis, and what B your 
^^ama? for you wear the hti^ of oar older, though we 
haye never seen yon befoie V 

.. " 60 upon this, the h^y man toU hia name, and tbatbs 
had been at mass in the ehapel in Um morning, heibiehe 
had wandenii} awi^ from ^ gaato. lteaii^tothea»g 

TBI 8<md or TBt XITTLl BIRD. 359 

of a little biid» that was flbigliig among the roM-trees, 
near where he was kneeling at hi» prayers. 

" And Hie BfoOeT) while he waa speaking, gaaed at 
bom yeiy eamsidy, and tiien told him, diat there was in 
the conTent a traititioii of a Brother of hii name, who had 
left it two hnndred yearl befofe; bat that whal had be- 
come of mm was never known. 

*' And while he Wtospeslbngv^helyman said, <My 
hour of death is come : blessed be the name of the Lord, 
for all his meides to me, through the merits of Ids oidy- 
begotten Son*' 

" And he kneeled down that Teiy HKmient» and said^ 
' Biother, take my eonfessioD^ and give aie absoliHoM, 
for my soul is deparlft^^* • • .•^ . . < «. 

'* And he «Mde his confessbo, aad Mceived his «bso- 
Isliega, and was anoiafted, and before mUaight he died* ^ 

" The Iktlvbad^ fwi-mmi Maaan-aj^^neof the 
dMnifaim or iuiapiuiii r dBdiAafcwiK.lha :Way that^tfae 
Almighty was pleased is hb awity io take to himiilf the 
seal €f that holy 

. » ij \ 

. :» 


tlmitalid fnm Loicuo Plfiiottl4 


Pore at a low«l^ vi^|n» 

Whote tante jnit ittdMi t 
A flower wliidi mtiihnir fStAut 
In ■nmiiier'-i nltiy wettiier. 

In Teidaat tilken yestue. 
With not leu Uuahing hos. 

As if that rose's sister. 
Another bad its place 

Wtthin the vase — ^the craatwe 

Of art and not of nature. 

Tilt KOf If. 

Sd ftft itodf tf«M6«ided, 

Hie gaudy inMcti 6e#, 
B«th to the rate pretend^, 

At well as to Uie true; 
With bbth would hate disported, 
B«t one not long they oourted. 

Attracted by its brightness, 

The bttfleifly mistook, 
Ahd stood but while its lightness 

The silken fbw'ret shook : 
It balaneed while it doubted, 
And then the fulse rose flouted. 

The bee this rose nluted, 
And made a bummiiI's rest ; 

^t wam of ddour suited 
Not with its busy guest: 

Itsseoi»itoe«]d«elii90ther^ - 

And flew upon the other* 

A gentle, badifiil maiden, 

Whoie y^ais were in their sprhig. 
Whom lore not yet had bden 

Widi cares he's suie to bring, 
flaw them the ftdse nee stand oh. 
Then instantly abandon. 


Or, Mot]i^» %bU IDA ^, 
To one sw^ x^Mt '^ giaiiM* 

An dimfai1--thi3; lo«« H.<wlj4 
And te9;r» tb^ oOwt Wn^ly?. 

*'Thdr beatU^, «ft I vww thfm, 
Appean in >9Mi t^e WQ^" 

She Mid—-" If weU yen knew th^» 
The Wb yon w^oUaot hlame« 

Draw near the vase of wiLter» 

And hmU the rofles, daughter, 

" What odopia 199^ Wmi^ 

Around thia4cfwy 'fi^^ 
While yet their wing]et« tienbl(9» 

Each cunning insect knpwa 
Here is its tnia enipiq]f^8$. 
And here alono eijofyment. 

« The otherii^ not fingoanJ^ 

ThiQugh hsighily gieen and Nd« 
And eyeiy airy Ti^gn«t« 

Its charms a2BfiBittiutiKia.-iL> 
It finds noi<H4.vfi|^,i!U'* , > 


Timiiiii^ you learn, defiocdve 

Though be my humble eong .— 
Mere beaaty, though attfacti?e, 

Can never. Iiol^ xm 1in%. 
The bee alone repoiea 
Upon ^fragrant rotet. 

»y wiLLiAic trrroir. 

Lima cradled babe of love» 
EmUeni of the apoUaa dove ! 
Angal-ouleithylabiadom; . 
Beaiity*a Ud withdut a thmte. 

Long may every bliss be tlune t 
Heavenly sun-beams on thee shine ! 
And as' strength with years increase^ 
Nought be known but joy and p^ace. 

Mjq^ a fiitfaec'a fbndae^a pee 
Eve^hopefiiUUMilitliaal i . 
May e^>fw-bo!ni vitt«# «■•# 
Long to glad ft motfaer'i lyes I ,• 

'Health b)B ihitie theti, mftiht dear ! 
Health, wfthtMt a sigh Or tmr i 
Heaita][>arBn^lpray fortftis; * ^ ' 
Sweetened wMi ^dbetibto'sUkft I - 


[FiMB BD onAnltbcd Kpic.X 


7k§ 8em€ U im ike Dmtbh eamp, em the wtambag t^Ur 

7k9 iead^rt are JMMkg a eommlfniio m. 

Tflsma lay upon the giooBii u Blender jooA, 
Clad in bled: BMiL His Aield sMtained hit ma $ 
HiadwekwaspilkmaAMLlualkaod} deaftk-pale. 
His &oe was ; his daik vfevfcm the earth 
Was fixed as in a trance :• hit hairy jet bi«ek» 
Flowed in pnfeauNi downward to. hia hwis t-"^ 
His name was Luold. . lAfairltafy 
His fiuhers dwelt, an ancient, noble litter 
There too he first drew breath, beside the baali 
Of some swift rivef, in a gorgeons vale. 
With mountains in tfie distance, dim and vast : 
And'he mMsabend, when the son sadi dowi^* 
It seemed to dip in soma faiight, resllesaftne; • 
And he had visioiis slill of dee^lna 8kie% 
AndlandsoBpaso^iBeffiddedaligh^ - 
And woods aHipesfiuna><" and ho aanr bi^[htj0jPOi» 
And iaces beaatiAil that smiled 4m. him ^ 
And heaid sweet voiees^talk in nmsic ia him;... « 
And Mt awaat lips imprmamg hisses en him ; 

LVOLD. 3ili 

And tiiougfat thenli lovely dreams-^'lmt iiief W^ 6tie. 
Ere he was yet four sammers'old, a baiid 
Of northern pirates, favoured by the night. 
Came from their ships — his fe.ther'1 castle stbnned. 
Plundered, and burnt — slew, or made captive, all 
Who fled not — and, before the morrow's sun 
Looked o'er the eastern inotmte^mi* tksw dark sails 
Were specks upon the sea. 

On a high cliff ^ 
The virretched father stood in agony, 
And watched the baiks that bore his only child 
For 6ver (torn hiiii'^and kneeled down, •end jpteyied 
Kind HeaVen to guard l^m-^-tad Tomvp^iM poMid^ * 
On the fierce raviahera his teeming- itofd ■ ■ . '« 

In bitterest ciinieA-^-4nd returned, and«cw ' - 
Black, smoking walls, that once had bees \m home t 
Then, with a tearless eye; and heart like itom, '*' 

Hardened and deadehed with its miBCBjr, - 
Laid in theqtnet cfar^ his slaughtered wifid-^ 
Girded his arms upon him'*-*«]id went fitrth ■ 
A silent, fierce avenger! Whoesoe'er 
The Northman warr'd, there fottitdhisTVDgieaBee iMi -y 
In Gaul, Spain, Italy-^ic Britain Hat. i^ ' 

So Against the long-lost son the ft i tl ierfi Mig' ht^ : - < ■ v^ 
The son against the site, nnkadwiu At tines, .- ' \ 
InLuoH'snuhd,Teili6mbritni9ee!ftfaat1)tigM* ■ v '.' - 
Came like some honid dream of inAaicf**^ ^ 
Dark, indistinct, and tenrible ! He saw 
Bla;dkn^ and todUenfeft, taHlQ)onaiQc««»^D«^^ 

J ••^ w 

806. CBKtftT cmucxviKo* 

litodmnnM lindKwidihridai, and groans, tLoAlua^atr, 
And htKtf tnmpliqg*— «nd was bone away, 
Heliww not how, 'aid dariowit, and the roar 


U»il«Ml Ambi tlM Italiao of Oabriele Fiamma, a poet of tlit 

WboM beaoDi oodd iLiadie lil^ ttMngiha^^f^^ 
Ii this tbe awful ud majtttie Iwad 
or His, the liOid Aln^gkly and a^-wiie 1 

Aro tliose the hands that ili«tolMd afacoad tbe 

And eaith with yer&vie, heaven with itais o'ewf u ai id t 
' Aie thcie the feet ihftt on the wwes woaid treid» - 
And calm their nga when wiMeit stonM aiifle iv 

Ah me!' bowwoonded, pale, ^Bigoied now! 

Those eyeft, the joy of Heaven, edipeed in jufhi -,' 
Tom, bleeding, coU, thoae haDdt» iheMfret, thb hiMi « 

I weep finr bve, grief, trasspoit, at the sight* . 
'^Uy LoRtf mf OOdi" Ihrme, ftr]|» didnt Tho«« 

In ihame» reproach, and tonoent, thus delight 



. . ./ . JX 


". Un lifird — un seul Uafdy Madame^ paur te 
peHt cTtM autre patfty weve.the.woidB a)ddrened''tb M 
by a little Savoyard, who, with his mannotte ciosdy 
dingtfeg to hiajfaonlder^ 4iid his huvdy-gm^y hung nmod; 
his neck, laiMdiusfiaeeyts, and kxd^ ia ny, face- with 
that indeseribable ezpnHioa whioh^kQ.^y^n more than 
the fondUis i^ipeai he bad iiJtt^M!ir-".'Lepaivro p^tj^'Vi^ 
autiepays!*' There was something so plaintive in his. 

voice, sianethtogsopieattnginhiseoimtenaTire»an4/yg^ 
thing SB truly eloquent m the siso^ sentence in which he 
pielenpfdiiiB pedlioii, that I cookl aot av^ jpav^isg to 
heat it repealed, and to giv^ the best.answei;. X y^ i^. 
to " the poor little one of a foreign land." 

His words had Um taljsmanin efiedt p{ traiu^pDft^ ll«^, 
in aa kietimt to \a^ native .mciinta^w of Savpy,^ y^ff^ 
periwps, his panmtsy 1»othea» sistefs, upd pjby^o^d^Bf^t 
in tranquillity; while he, a little ho«se^s^t.^f2|jpdeier„^. 

was desolate among thous an d a w ith na fiian4 hil^ lu» 

•■■■*■ . "^^ 

His story was simple. When he was ten Ttfurs oM, 

and^Ms biother Pwva tardive, their ^^ax^njta c«cJL^Vs!^2SfsA. 


•o* linger; «»«liqr8*v<-t»tlie<MnmiimtBMttB»j(iKl 
to tlie«(kor aliwdgr'fpwdf, aoA sent iSutm to anke tiiair 
iMioMfltia *' tlw line '•ooiiiitries» ov«r dia nUMuttuiis iv 
Mr»y«" &it Vm bralber Fieoe wis « bimwmlmtk,*' aoi 
hft iMd bonoired the biudj-gnrdy liopiii|r that hf hm 
mnic and hh iuMin ettg,\j>e bu^ ■aha a» hocIi 
nqr m when thcrf bofli kbonnd togitther, -m that 
wonMnotbeaonowfitlaawenassick. He had trnvlled 
thHMgh l^iatfee'aiid Itilf, attdhe «Mld de hettdr niw^if 
Uh mask: i^era nevr ; Mt Us ttiatic'wi» oU^ ^ttwi pp6^ . 
tiled moiftiet heftw Ihaamjianflttlte j ^tInfd^Aw» iMHreMit ' 
he attoied me^ no eempariaen bet#eatitiMto<"4iiB inii mem 
was ^'^fj 9«u<0^ ^ j| jtt^;" and levedhin ee ciQ^i tttd 
knew faifli n hn eau^e nnd* Wwii ne '^(lewTKl^iis^MHi 
ID teluftt home fie his psirant^ andfiverwiA tfMsn xnSavoyt 
Itat h« got Httle money now» and fietoed it weeld bs- r 
long tiine, as Piens was •"aen, Bieit wiuibiSe>.** I ailMi' 
the Iktld fei\eigoer'r eddittte, gAve^iitt a fkesent fhriia 
iick hfOlher, and left him gaU^ ccrtdling etae of titf 
abngs of his natnne land, as, uriHk Uglrteiled Map and 
f|iaiUSngeye>hetr0iliednmnd4ies(|aate« Idtaghbeomi 
of the woede of hi» bhnple d^, ud^kaiew^i* to hb^eM-of 
AodarwhiA &e g4««yM»lMGhih«lr MMtes^ toi^^^ 

Four gagner les pays beaux, 
lt«m uktm m g M M jt wotto, 
. abm |Mtta*.« 4qiia«r f^Mpaei^ 
Un l^a^if • 1114 culotte, 

Av«c ma manadfte. ' 

• » « 


TIm atit mofBMg 1 i«iol?«l to Mi the hthitatlon^ 
Um nuMBltin ptMaati, mmI acopidsogly took my wnf 
thftqgih byo-laiMi and t^ky, until I fimnd mywlf i« iImi. 
aiMrabla eowt in wbieb the little Savoywd had Cold na 
lia lodged* The bouttt oa one nda.had bMn daetieyod 
bj firt> aad tlia teoiebad wiadow -framae, brokaa glaM» 
ajHi tottMina aiwuaiaiiftt of thuiaiwi tha fttJMfi iadacadma 
t^fama bafoia I aniaiad tba open doov ei hia dwattiagf 
1 ISMttd U wM ona of thoea beoni which aia lat m. 
nightif ladginga to aach aa can aAml to pay bul a fair, 
pwcii for tha tbifd or fimrth partioo of a wiatebad had. 
In iha loan which tha Uttla maanlaiMari accopiad» thava 
fnm^ or fix cf thaca inifarabljr attirad €0«ohca>and tha 
asMka Bad diaauitmof tha atii Npp harapwvaiitad na at ilnl 
ftemdislsagnJcUngaiy Uttla friend* Hahadjwtgiwaahia 
Ivolher tauM nulk» and taraing luddanly round, upiel hia 
famagu, aad aprang forward with aH tha energy ef hia 
epantiy, aBckiming, "Ah/ f^ett MaAtml-^li ia tha 
la^. Ok, gueiie JoU, PUrret Je mis ravi^^eti 
im |foM# pd m'm domn4 dt /'or^ca/.— Ah 1 1 am lo 
happy." The sicfc boy railed hinnelf on hia pallet, and 
wilh'foeble voice espreieed hia gratatuda, in good Freach* 
Little Jaquaa took dawn hia jacket fron the window, wham 
lifiupiniiedrtofciaaDfremhiafaeother'i ^ee even the 
little light that entered, and when I wae leated oo abrokaR 
box, he rolled more tightly the ragi that pillowed Pierre'i 
head, and I diioovered the mamotte peeping irom under 
the rug, which formed Che only covering for the invalid. 

Jaquci' face varied with continual exprMtion: when 


kb eyo verted oa me, he lavglied; wlmi he leoltej u 
his brother, he wept; then kuecd hk mamotte. Hie 
iBtnd and body were in peipetiial toolkai.' B«t fSbm 
deep aelanchdly eo strongly imprinted «n Piene'e he$, 
b om wre d no fij^t finom his biother*8 eniles. Um dmM 
c^ were sunk end dim: his bUok heir-^ne poAed ftom 
Me finely lonned brovr, end ^ pwtii^ eC )Ue eshy lipe 
eter his white teedi, S&^e his countenence thfe eppeerenoe 
of death. His bony fingert appealed elmost depriiecl el 
the power of motion, and the short breadiing and wap^ 
pressed coogh soon made jne ceitsdn that Pierie wisoM 
never again see the blue mountains df Sarqy'— 'nevir lelsA 
his adyentures to his aged pere&te, at eahd gafiy ^ 
dieeifttl songs which descaibe so peAelieally tiae chen* 
'ti home, and his native wilds. "C^ lis any w«^ ri^ 
leviate your suflbrings, or make yea happier t&att ftk 
)»em at present V smd I to Fmtt* ^^ilAm*, MiAtm^ 
I am indeed grateful. Fenek tnctre : — I eannet speA 

I prooused to see him again on the ummmw, ttd I 
willingly perfortned my promise ; tar I fisit a de^ acaiile^ 
to soften and relieve the sufl^rings of those ahnost tnfkflc 
strangers. I found Pierre eupported on his- Wi e tdiHI 
couch by tHe aid of his huidy-goicty, the hot, atti tftb 
bundle of rags, and a smile of Wcome was on his pifiU 
cheek. '* My young fitend, " said I, "t have proviMyeli 
a home, and one of comfort. Say, Pierre, can ye« be 
happy vHiere I intend to place you, until yen em saiU- 
ently recovered to tetum to'your country, or to begin ^oar 

mviiiil^ aguftt^* Plune shook hii head u but, fbr a nuK 
■9«B|>. ln» e3«i asnimed that biilBa&cy which I knew 
,W9B natmal Id them nhen he was happy and in health. 

la f^lyto aqnie' oilier qaestions, which arose, I trast^ 
inm a letter pi^dVe than mere curiosity, he infoimed me, 
fa Fi^u;h> that hit mo^kfst Was from Bemb, ia Swit* 
■Viaiid.i '*Ai4 hei^/' he^ontbued, drawing a Bible 
inm under hie sagged pfllow, *'2e^el>0(^ she brought 
Jbun her native canton : it^ras her last gift to me. It f 
«m ahley Madam; I wiU teH yon when «he gave it. The 
iBeenBBg before I left th^'litSle gleii where our oottnge 
jAsed, I- was leaSed on a etomi at the side of a stream, 
Ijbat in winter stielltf Into a'monnia&n toisent : ft came 
liliddagdewntfaeitteketlAfc^^Hlfilhadowouralbode, and 
jsgr leersieU tot into ite cntient, ei my eyes ftrad on th^ 
jiu^jiiomaof^ monntainB that wenild io<in sepantte mi 
.from «U I loved dear on eaitii. Ja(|Qes had dimbed uf 
the 10^ -after lus; manaotle, who was Hveljr enough then; 
fu the poor thing iMd lOMnm no tooiible ; and lit^^Ma^ 
.fiehm ym «t^ nottsige-door eewiqg some cfatK to onSe 
f^49#e>for mghmAnftrfy* My mother' came ^t, and 
4iea|^ lyaiaelf ^a ^ ftifNie A vdgr^de. ' Psne, deer 
'fiMMr^B net Tfeep soi' 1^ laid: 'yon are going liemm 
^ ^j^ cenntoes, K«diei«ihe peo^ am all'li)« goodie 
.igiir you t« wm; mad the time leill 4een pt» over, and 
j^«Dlirel»nu' J hid my£uaelnhirhteom, andwciil 
jdif«d. 'iIer«,'abecoiitmi]ed,aeehed«e«tethher:AU4 

' ;f»»i>»m n^d u> ^ Inok heftr'Soed a is. finr idi9diifeR 4p 

3ti nrit ftA.totA]i\>s. , 

i)qok/ir(ieii I qaitM rn^hom; sal fti&#^ -jrouHMiet 
io the yt\e»k vSmntias of 'Sawy, £ givelt^im; l»i te i »ft ; 
and m'doing so, I gtt« yira mygreatest tteasttre ! Tlaiok 
it Deafly by he$xi, and ean te{ieat its bie^Md Hrwdt fo 
my fMnaining chUdren.' She folded her aims loond us 
hodi; for by this time Jikqaes had letiQned fixna hit 
|«niut, and laid hia foee in her lapi The teaxs at kit 
tCreamed down her dieeks^ and she conagned ns to the 
protection of our Afanigbly Father, diaigfaig nS to lote 
each other, and to read our Bible night and morning. I 
have obeyed hef wSQ ; antt til I new hi^ is-, 4lialf my 
Rttle Jaqties''^ (hete hit irdlce Mteied, and Ikis httfOg^ 
clasped his arms around him with all te'^nCsnai^^eif 
agoniiM foelnig:>-*' liS I %h3i new is 1^ s&m MenA to 
|»roteet my dear Jvpittt ; and," bodtimied he, " praeaiJft 
ine, Jaques, b^forer ibis htStf, thaf'if <ever ydu ^ ft^ 
teoney , you wiU leturn to dt. TMut, and liffi-^y*MIK« 
mAfzHene tmfleied ~biin^f and thini)' iitid tiuil9l*tfeU99, 
itat Ifa^t hiHefttf fotfM td itead'&e My bebk>iir CM, 
6iv0 it back to ber, Jaques, -and teff hM^I 1<toim^M 
IWeet'blesdng die gave me, vM Ihac ^ nuM lfet;#(K|l, 
fw Itatfk^ippjS* Xttfle ^qu«a%ef»riMi#i "<M«^ffe 
momrrd pai,**-*'-9aA ak b g ug l i bb li i t^Wie <bW^ fl« W% 
to himi he heeded it not. ** Pierre ite motura p&a," he 
»^aled inoeisantly i but tfve &t had gtfne forth, and Ae 
boy's happy s]»rit wa& iattering m its clay-biult t e nenw C 
anxious to escape to its^ God; I- pWHn i eed him Aat I 
wotdd protect Jaqnes. llis eyes beamed for a moment, as 
in the days of heaUhfobiess and p«M)d^^> J#c «Mrv 


ho fvnAj replifidi. He Afi^ . zemaiQed stiU (or 
some time, and at last motioiM<i. his biother. Jaqoes ua- 
dcitlood him, and, clasping hia hand, he sang, or xather 
chanaied, w^.>roicen v^ice, the following words : 

Ecoute moi, je te prle, 

Eternell esaucemoif 
- Btl bout du mond« men ame, 
Te reclame, 
Trktff e« n'Mpcraat q*iaeii toi t 

A fl^h esjonjji^ the fipft of Pierre as he finiAed the 
vwie^ and his spirit passed ioto that world where " th^ 
^vvoeijr are at lest." 

It is BOW tiearl^'teii years aace Piene died ; and 
^jTaques, for whtfm a pleaiuQg and Inerative emplofs^eot 
^«F9s ebtained, haaheen enabled to pay a short visit to his 
§PNi^ anta^ the wootsii nf his native ceuntiy,. t9 
wtinsa her Bihia into.hia aotfajir'a hai>d»,tai^ to ti|llhef 
^het «he h«d not *^«ait her breed npoa the waters'' JA 
W% In the churcbAyard where tbfi maaiiis of t^ 
jMwg tofv^aid a>».at sstt, m tmnhsiri^i^^ eenHalpji^g the 

IpsfMol and aflectiowate Jaques: 


Sy JEUNE • * . 

KT St BOV 1 ^ 

■ AnJtfi H. , 




Thesb moments stolen from sleen^g^ houis, 
Thoir fairest, frailest of aU flowers, 

For, ah ! before to-monrow*5 daw^, 
Thy present beautjr will be gone; 

So tnwpiiwt i»i^)r.fta^ 

Thoughts, whil^ J gaie, crmrdPO to Cut, 
I ae)» my pen in eagbr baite, • 

. liesl they thctuld perish too; 
InilrlictiQn to attentiTe hoai^B^ . 
0«t Go4 by various me»it inptrtB-r* 
^m in thispl«Bl 

Why so much beauty lavished hssf% 
Fragrance, that fills the ainbient air. 

But gra^tude V eKcite 1 
Well plesMl« paaen^ goodn«si gitrm 
To-all'that on his boontjr lives, 

Th^ mMBa of pioe dsliglil. 

Ota A KlOHT-BtOWlKG CXRKVfl 87ft 

Whilst haaging o^er tb' exotic l^iom, . 
Approaching fast, I see its doom. 

Its life is bat a i^nui ; 
I gaze, I weep, but not for thee, 
Thoa dost but shoir 'irty destiny, > • ' 

And tiiat of mortal nan. 

In strength and'beauty» man appevs 
Fitted to stand the shock of yeanh— 

We look, and lo, he's gone ; 
He sinks untimely to fhie grare. 
Nor friends nor riches then can 8«?e, 

Nor Iwth, nor l^gh nmown. 

And is it thnti wSAi hf^, I c'ly. 
Thus do my short-lived jdeasuies die, 

'AM yet to \tfol cfibgt 
And dfesm I still bf bliss below. 
Where dis&pp<^nimefl[t oh, and' woe. 

The soul'with angolsh sting? 

Tha have t leea the Ihithfii! friend. 
O'er some toved object fondly bend, 

' AikrWatth the 'slow' decay. 
Exert in vain thb hiding art. 
Then with a Ibpelesf, Ihroken lietfC, 

976 on A vioHT-BLowma cxb,bv>« 

Come, jc fair Bowera of human noe. 
Adorned with .etch external grace. 

Come, learn th' unheeded truth ; 
For you these glories are diajdayed* 
Tis thus ye blofaom, thua ye fade, 
. £'ra in tha bud of .jo^th* 

Give me those joys that perish not» 
Give resignation to my lot— 

■. The gifts of earth inthral : 
Thy gradous preaanoe» Locd, imparl ..>.: 
Speak peace and fajdoo to my hearty • 
And let the worU tak0 alL 

Tis wisdom's voice — I hear her aay. 
To young and old. Seek God, thia d^y ; ;. 

'To4K)mw ia not yoma. 
The sacred pa^.aU deelai«« 
Redeeming mercy» sought by prayer, ■. 

Eternal bliss insures. 

■ i' 


But see, these streaks of orient Ij^jht, 
Remind me of departiog nighta 

. And comins^.dUiy foifOUt 
The ftded flower no. longer Uow% 

Its stamens droop»ila.fetaja.]alps0r<- , 

. Sweat nonUreiai fuaiBalL 

■ it« V Z' 

• v.'i- ■ -I* .■-. v/tiii' i'.l .f .. '* • 

'■/■"■>■ .- ;■ ..,■> ,^-...'1 :'lli. \^\- .«,/ 

» ■ • :f'. .■ ■■. ; ■'■. ■ . ■ '■. ...\M us \ 

THK^ flraUiT OP NATURB; > 

. . ■ * • . ^ . 


Tbebe'b a spritiiii^M lbr«ft i^Mlmif , ^ -'^ r- ^. i 
From t^ lofv^ tiwsind ftiif ik i iij p fl»waM*4-^> ^^ ^ 

ThereVa spblt'thiMgfa'tlMriiiitrfiMf'l^^ 

Through the bdibling Imx^ «iid A« Inddah bowen* 

Itisthespiritoflife^^p^adkl^'' " . ■. } 

The waters that moan add ^lec^w that stir ; 

That apiril shall live m blMjim'^itfafio^," • ' *' - *' '' 
And uftconsciowi tips i^all lireadie MiB oa %0r^ ' 

List to the tones of the tangled river. 

As it falls through the tfristed boughs and reeds '^■ 
Oh I its lulling notes shall last for evec> 
. Whether it glideth through QMmntaiiis or meads I 

<ist to the giant tree's ineiMrtitioB, 
As it sweqM its mqeslsB toioe akog'^ 
List to the young flower's hwnentation. 
In the jMipog tones of its moati&iV vinai^. 

376 TBS ftPiniT OP VATURS. 

Hetid'it thou th6 nlver echo, at oven. 
Of the wild harebells, as th^ ulken nets 

Cavgfat the last breath, that, wafting from heaven, 
Came floatiBg to sleep in their minarets ? 

Heoid'st fiKfH^, at^jp^ of the ^d, sweet l|.lo6^<i)ft. 
That fearfully creeps underneath the bank. 

As a lone kiss fell on its white bosom. 
And fragtantly info deep slumber sank ? 

There's a harmony, ev^ where breathing* r,.- 
The humming «f numberless speechless things ; 

'Tis the ^vely- stops thdir green folds wieathing-r- 
fsom their ^delicate tendrils music springs* 

Oh! the Spirit of Nature is sle^ong 
In these de^:deUs, and the voices we hear 

Are the hum of flowere theii vigil keeping, 
An4 <he wslch-floi^ of caves and fountains near. 


• « ■• 









y. In prawntiBg to ouieadtt* ft met of the Aiitogiipldi» 
%f distiiiguiahed chanct9rK7chM% of those who pnwiele^ 
^ Itefoiiiiftd9ii, or flouiished dariag one of the n^ost i^ 
pwdcable periods of our bistoiy-*^e do not mean to iliiciuii» 
the question wbadi ho to often occupied' the attentioDi; 
not only of the qiecuktivB and the cnrionsr but of , the 
physiologist and tiie philosopher. Whether or not we^ 
may be. justified in forming an opinion of the character^ 
^mtha style of the hand-writing of an ind^dual, it is 
not our, object to inquire. - But as the autogra^phs -of emi-f 
nent men have always exdted a considerable degree of 
interest, we have no doubt that those we have collected 
ivill prove hi^y gratifying to many, and satisfactory to 
ajl. They have been obtained from the most authenticr 
sources in the kingdom. In general we have briefly; 
poticed- the document to whidi each was attached, .and 
the period at which the sig[natttre was written. 

^ . .•••■•- 

• Edward Fjoxe.. — Edward Foze, afterwards Bishop 

of Heneford ; .fiom a p^er dated &tfa April, 1530. H% 

was one of the. principal promoters of the iRefoimatioi^ 

and'diod in 1538. 


Edbovd Boimm««~Efaioiid Bonef, toa a letter 
dated 11th April, 1533, aftennods, in 1538, nominated 
to the lee of "HmtiatA, but before opnaecratioB promoted 
toLonkm. He waapterioiislj Ambassador in ])eiimaik» 
fiance, and Gennaaj. 

Stb : WurroiTi*— Stephen Gaidioer, Bishop of Win* 
dtaMv and MiUBr of T^ntyrGoUege, Cambnd^ ; from 
a paper, dated lot l)teember,-lffll. He obtained ad--* 
mta d ut inlo'Ae fcrnfly of Wehey, and wm sent to Rome 
liNMt the Dfvoiue* U iidBr BflTaiy , he became *Loid ^SiaB'* 
eiflor, and'Ptime Bfiidster, and ^fied in 1555, aged 73. 

W: CAvT«-«Wilfiam Land, Ahifhbishop of Canter*^ 
biify ; froA a fetter, dated October J3th, 1685. He waa 
hiftbeaded, lOtti of Janoafy, 1IH5, on Tower Hifl. 

OjTtL: LowDOtf.'-'Bisfaop Jttxon, afterwards Lord 
High Treasarer, and in the reign of Chailes IL ArcV 
bishop of Cantttboty ; from a letter, dated in September,. 


Jo: TitLOTSON.— Dr. tUlotson, afterwardi Aich- 
hishop of Cantexboiy ; irom a letter, dated 90th of Sep- 
tember, lt9B9. 

Tbowas CAinrtTAR. — -Thot&as Cranmer, Archbishop 
of Canterbuty ; ftom a paper, dated 12th May, 1531.. 
He was bnmt at Oxford, 21st March, 1556.. 

jftoB : UsRa».^^I>r. Kobert TTsher, Provost of Tii- 
whj CoOege, Dublin, and afterwards Archbishop of 
Ansegh ; fifom a letter, dated ''Trinity College, 27tt 
Jaly, 1680." 


T: Car bbobum.— Thomas Wolsey, Caidinal ami 
Archbishop of York; from a letter to Henry VIII. dated 
1539. He died 29th November, 1530. 

O Cromwell. — ^The Protector of England} from a 
paper, dated Ist December, 1^50. 

Will. Russkll.— William Lord Russell was engaged 
in a conspiracy for effecting a Reyolntion, and beheaded 
in linooln^s Inn Fields, July, 21, 1683*; fioma letter, 
dated in Newgate, July 19. 

R. Russell. — Lady Russell distbguished herself much 
by her aBectionate conduct towards her husband at this 
crisis; from a petition to the King, July, 1683. 

W. Pemk.— llie founder of the colony of Pennsylvania. 
He was in great favour with James II., and died, much 
respected, in 1718; from a letter about 1680. 

Albemarle. — General Monk, afterwards the Duke of 
Albemarle, and First Lord of the Treasury; from a docu- 
ment, dated 1st July, 1668. 

Wentworth. — Thomas Wentworth, Earl of Strafibid, 
Lord Deputy of Ireland; from a paper, dated 31st May, 
1631. He was beheaded on Tower Hill, 12th May, 164K 

Anne Boleyn* — ^The second wife of King Henry VIII. 
She fell a victini to his jealousy, and was beheaded in thtt 
Tower, 19th May, 1536 f from a familiar letter, without 
date, but written about 1529. 

John Mit.ton. — From an affidavit in his hand-writing, 
dated 25th February. 1 650-1 . 


asLQW," Mxm,Ti4 

t LSAVS*." 

Deckt dcntfayn. 

• > € 

1 ! 

Th« woodland heS^t, 

Widi magic l%lit 
Is dedud—iuid o'er d^ castlo foils 
Tbe gddeo liog^ of ereniiig iaHis, 

The silent sea 

Flows rippHngly ; 
And svraa-Iike gliding to its home. 
We see the fisher's light skitf eome* 

The ailvo- sand 

Gteanu on the strand; ' 
Now rodder hero; now paler ttnete. 
The ha€s.<»f leaven the bright waves hear. 


The zephyr bound. 

The golden crowned 
Ajid nuhy-covered fbreland height, 
Is circled by the sea-bird*s flight. 

'Midst blushing flowers 

And dose-'twined bowers. 
And ieantain's dh>p9 with genm that vie. 
The hermit's cell salutes the qre. 


Day's parting beam 
Fast l»4ei, and^^'-eciba-nuiiB giey 
Of yon old castle dies away. 

The moon so pale 

Shines diroogh the vale, 
Cj^ghtiti^ •ta# Wak nbr's iBttttkiBiL touib'^ 
Where spiiits seem to haunt the gloom. 

t /, 

: iff ■ . ' : ■'.- ' 1 

f • 

♦ . 

r , «. 

WRiTT«» o» tnn 


Minicii ientering mf TMi1Je<h'Ve^; 


, iGrowa ftifl aat i«&^y <Ht wy 'fecow ; 

My spring is ^«t, and tewmer now 
In all its WMe of «*)ul appeart:« 
Forsake the'ti6t, Altiiighty^OtiMe ! 

Amid the tempests of the hour ! 
Thy mei«y bade me gently glide 
O'er infancy's aikl youth's wiM tide ; 

And now whfen Itensef dangeis lower. 
Oh ! let rtit <m ^y ^on <ide " 

Unharmed «ttid -the <ctty-idMMf«f ! 

'09 UY MimtU' HttKt. '0M( 

Thou laM«r*tt my iafiuit eye* 
' Hioit knoir^st my vaidjai sigh ' 

. fint row to Thee I 
Thoa-know*8t, in peace- or Arife, ^ 
.The day and night of li£% 
My h<^ it linked to Thee I 


A thousand stais are sa the.aky, 
- And not a cloud obscures their light ; '. 
They flash, as rays of bliss on high. 

That stray to mortal aght ; 
And yet perhaps no human eye 
But mine, now wakts to diink the tgloiies of ihe night ! 

A thootand gales are on i9ie wing; 
And whi£s in tbipor Jong an I deep> * 
Earth and her millions sleep, 
Instinct with life aad mystic sound, . 
Like wandering harps th^y fling - 
Wild melodies around. • / 

And yet perhaps no human ear 
But mine, now wakes the thtilling hear ! 

" And why so wakeful is thine eyo» \ 

So vigilant thins earl 
Art thou a spkit of the sky. 

Chained tar a moment here^ 
And8tnigglisg.ft>c.thyMbeity.V , 

2 I. 


Od fuch a night tny bands were tiecU' 

And I became a son of earth; 
On toch a night my thoughts maj glide 
To Him. who gives immortal birth. — 
O Father! wfaenmy tiidLlso'er; 
And earth may check my flight no more» 
Let, in bridal gannenfs dntit. 
My spirit come, a pardoned guest ! 
I do not AskfMT bliss beloW, 
Nor e'en kti short relieve horn, woe ;^ 
I as]^ Ik Thee l--4he First, the last. 
The God th at shall, aot pass-*-that hath not passed ! 

. .N<Xv^£imi|F^nightl Thy shadows fly. 
Mingling with my former years ; 
Th^ dawn of other days appears — 
Tli« laMNttii of no^ life IS ni^ I 


T^i. FELON. 

■ .1 

■■:. .V i 
. • ■ ■ ' ■ 


Child of dishonour, guilt, and diame. 

Lorn outcast fidni'tlij kiiid. 
Whose pasaon's rage no voioe could tuae^ 

Whose arm no law ooidd hind^ 
That human breast, aU fiend vithia* 
And scorched, and blackening still with idn,' 

.... . . • ■■ ^ . 

Where art tbo^i? Poet aOitoa shattrndilMd 

Thy guilty haunt conceal 7 
There dost thou shake at human treftdt 

And dread the ratthng whe^ 1 
By night, it Wanderer pale and drear— 
By day, a fearwom tenant here 1 

Or dost thou, from yon prison's gmte. 

Send forth the fitful yell 1 
Condemned a few short boarB to wait 

Aliye in that sad oeli, . 
Then, with couTukive heave, to rand' 
This mortal curtain, and descexuiV 

4196 TUB '>u»M'» 

Poor chilitff w«» t then was « dfty; 

(O would it yot jmglit bet) 
When life VBrtained before thee iaj. 

All promise, e'en to thee ! - 
On its fair peges^flieie was not ~ 
One liM/ef iii^ eaeeRec^s blotw 

A babe ! to some fond mothet's side 
With sweet afibotion jpobsc > ' 

Thy little crimson, ^ie ap^^lied ' 
Fornutture to her bie«Bt> • 

Thy hands, ibehtiiwnneBat 16 treade, ' 

Spread Oft hsMmoMk^wiiat dbe^k* * 

Yes, and I know that many a day 
S&e bathed thee widK hei^ teab» 

Delighted with the fond essay ' ' 
To plan.' d^ fatam yeam^ ' ^ ' 

Or bleeding fast at Somi«('rv{&», < 

At thought of:iifo^»t\ii^«onaBog pairi; 

Early bereaved, peuhaneei on ^ttee. 
Sole relic, she relied^'- * " " " ' 

To heal a widowed hestrt, aiidi'be ' 
Instead fl^one-T^iartdied; •■ '.^•' 

And many a lonely night «he-«penlV * 

By turns on hinpanri ibaecialrai^ ^ 

<••«». ;, 

TBS rsLON. 889 

And didst thpu, in that opening prime» 

Her dream of hope prolong 1 
£*en then she saw thy geim of crime. 

Bat would not see thee wrong ; 
Fearing, she hoped, fiooiiidfty to dBj, 
Till passion wrenched thee from her sway. 

Then daiUy onward vpeA the yean 

That chilled thy heart to stone ; 
And now no ea^Iy finend appeals. 

To soothe thy mortal groan ; 
And she, of all thy fitiends tiie dnef. 
Why comes she not I'-'-She died of grief f 

Mother — if e*er a mother's eye 

This tale of truth beguile — 
O, turn thy watchful scrutiny. 

E'en on thine infant's smile. 
And heed the prophecy of ill, 
Daik scroll, in childhood's febel will. 

While blight the tofnl pages 
Of fife's unwritten book, 

IMrect to one Almighty hand. 
Faith's oft-imploring look ; 

And as the £ur inscription sfaineB^ 

O stnngthen thou the holy 


.* f. 

.'•• " 

BTTtfK UST. W. 8. OftitiY. 

AtBi, an ittconsiderable town in Langaedoc/hiui' fadl 
the honour of giving the name^of Albigeois,- or ADNgeBMSt 
to the Protestants of.> Fraqoce, vrho -were disdagnished ia 
the ihirteentii century, by their detetmined opfioshilm to 
the usurpations of the Pope ; but whose enti^ hktatf 
occupies little more than half a century. The team 
Protestant is here nse^, in a gene^l s^nse, to designate 
those,' 'who, profes^ng the ^ikith wh^h' became better 
known at the Reformation/ have at any time refilaed t» 
acknowledge the supremacy 6f 'a universarjpohtiflr. Tho 
pretended right of the bis1idp»of Rome, to W Ioids«iv 
God's heritage/ imd to giv^ sj^tual lawsio'Chmtendim, 
has been uniformly resisted by one Christian community or 
another; and at all |>ef|<)da of hi^iy^ thete liMreibeenraoma 
tew «t least enKghtenedenqngh, a^d boltawng^rto di^pnte 
the authority of any usjirper, who Bha^|MMUM»«fe call 
bonself the supreme bead* or npt&lUb(e g^nde of the^chuich. 
As St. Paul wttiistoodSt^I^tertoftheine, ao bumiim na- 
cessof* to theaUegedyrima^y of 3i. Peter, b i yu i ^ig i m M l 
fami ag©to a«is by some hd5uclltattpions4rf As tmti, iA«^ 

tbey have been 'snbstitiitiDg enor for tmth. It is difficult 
tberefote to prove, that Protestantism had ks origin either 
hereor ihere, or to assign the reputation ofbeing the/oim<fef 
of the Protestant churches either to this man or to that.* 
The light has indetd hten presencd in ^leater purity* and 
Apostolic Christianity has been defended, with greater 
petteveraace in some provinces of Christendom, than in 
others. Fbr example, the valleys of Piedmont have never 
%antkl defenders of t|ie true faith, and the inhabitants of 
^^•iSeiilii of \Fra&Qeiha;ve witnessed more terrible scenes 
^gdigiw»' bloodshed fer the truth's sake, than any else* 
wh4M*' fiuitbe Waldenses were tha depositories, rather 
IhandtoibiiadefB of the doctrine of the Reformed Churches^ 
and IIm Aibigeittea weie the witnesses and the martyisi 
MM A%AMt pieaoheis of a Protestant Confession. In fact^ 
tiAieMiver was wanting, either in the diocesses of the NortK 
6f- Italy, or of the doath of Tranoe, ja succession of devomi 
iaen^ who '* oi^ied thonselves willingly amengthe peoplej" 
said' " jeoparded th^ lives unto the death in the high 
{llMseB of flie field,'' or at the stake, rather than follow the 
onmiptexBiBSple, or tiubmit to the tyrannical exactions of 

y « 

* What our heavenly Master said of the kingdom o^' Ood, I9 
strlctlf trne of Protesfimttom : " It ooai^tta not with ol^scrva- 
flMt WBlth0rftaiiUittiu97«»y, Lo, hen'l or Lo. there >** SquaUy 
^)pUcable to the presumptuous claims of the ** Vicar of Christ,** 
is another declaration ot our Lord : ** 'then if my man shall 
hef fiifto yon, tiO, here is 6hrlst» or tlicre, believe it not. Jh^ 
^tfntjJFn of Opd is wi.thiji you,** In lilse manner the church 
of Christ exists wherever " the truth in Christ*' h tAtftUbi&t 
acedftUnir to tiM f Altb inddlMipUM of tho epostoHc oge. ^, 


Um Cbuicb bf Rome. Bvl tbodgb ^Ise true Ughi cqeh 

tiiiiieil to iluiie in thosa regions jduough the dark age?* 

j«t tke distinction of Vavdois, or Waidenses, and Aibt* 

geoii, or AlbigeoMS, as Chiiakian communities jj^rotest-^ 

ttiy agttMt Papal conuplions, is not rdcogtiiEablQ. la 

vy annab, pievioiisKy to ihoM of ibfd twelfth ce^iiiTW 

The fonnv ' wem so called from th^ im^regnaUe val- 

fays, (90^9 French, wrf/i^ Italic,) and. the .appear 

lation ^Tst decors in a mamiaccipt stitt:«stant, of the 

date 1100, A. D. The latter deiited.tilieir .naese» as j^ 

began by observing, from a townisiLaili^iedoc* I^^HiU 

the prindples of Protestantism were esposaed moie..s|ei- 

dily in Albt, or at an earlier fflMi ithan. lA 4^ oUnS 

part of the South of France; or. that im^.^SHfe^ 

under the hatds ^ Romanists for th«ff.iiAligip«B.£»it^ a^ 

Albi; but tiiat here a celebrated fm^Hc CQtt^Srrmce.lWS 

held between the opponents and.t)ie a^eReats, of thi9 

Church of Kome» It was this iepjilemqpe a(t Albi« in dM 

year 1176, which gave the name of Albigens^toallsach 

as avowed the principles then and there publicly advanoad 

against the superstitions and abuses of the EcHuanists, 

The conference at Albi, in 1176, was the prelude to the 

bloody drama, which commenced at the b^inning of the 

Ihirteenth century^ ' the Popish |jishops, priests, and 

monks, who took part in thatoonferrace, finding that th^ 

could not persuade their advetsaries to join in comma* 

nion with themsdves, tried to compel thesis and beg^ 

by ascribib|[ (sAse sentiments to the advocates of the caae» 

against which they could not prevail in fair arguoia^t 


•TBfiy'lkraiided'them wiUi the oame of AHans and Mani-^ 
cbees ;- they preached agaunst them in the cities and tA* 
lages, and charged them with atrocities of which they 
aiever ^«fe ^guilty. 

.' Bnt as the innocent victims 6f the calumny were not td 
he nlehced by such means as these, and as they still per* 
jMvered in spreading their doctrines, the arm of power was 
Mi^Hed to crosh them, and thousands perished in the 
ttenes, dr in indi8<^ribiinate massacre. Kaymond, Count 
'df Theulouse, (a;bd toveceign of the provinces, where the 
doctrines propounded at Alhi, and from thenceforward 
$tyl^ Albigensian, had long taken deep root,) wa;^ 
solemnly invoked by the Pope, to exterminate the heretics 
fjyfot aiia^ force. But'Eaiymond was too well con- 
grjpnetd of th^ tahie which' his estate derived from the enter* 
IfriBiDg and induaitridus spirit of his nonconforming su1»» 
ject8» to. comply writh this demand. His refusal dz^vt 
idown fresh denunciations from the Pope, and renewed 
charges of scandalous proceedings .against the Protestants^ 
irp Tofttte these slanders, the Protestants consented to hold 
]iiiotiier conference with the Romanists, at Monb^al, in 
&e year )12061 The same opinions wore freely professed/ 
dS' beforO) at AIbi ; and . soon afterwards a general crui 
ittdla was preached,*^ not only against the impugners of 
Papal authority, but against all who should protect, oi^ 
tefuse to destroy, them. Count Raymond himself wad 
tnvotved in the edict of excommunication ; and the term 
Albigenses was indiscriminately applied ta all such of th« 
-natives' of the South of France, fus had incurred thf 

8N nm AiMtpwmsMM^ 

It ttf ^ BfittBft pontiff, dlher Hf ^afi^am^ 
Ui iiifidHiMihr> •>* t^vMog 1o penecuie tihose iriio qiies«> 

But befote I proceed to relate some Jtit Hnt '^aonaite 
•enmulted hydie^RoiiiaiMBtidiBsiig-tiiecfuaBdes agiiiot 
Ae Albigcntes, aftdt to TiAdicate As aiftrert ^a^BomAii^ 
tope i akwis of tinir cttenies, i nnist rae«r itf i|ie Mateaittt 
wilfa which i fiet <mt, aod «ep6at, thift >&« t^ieCs IrfkidI 
Prolfefttdiits then held, «id ii«tr hold vn oplpdritMrn'to^ 
Church vf Rone, had- been nomitained In lheSoii& of 
FiaBGCi fiom theesrlitet-ptfiod of thotesfablislKifie&t of th« 
Christian ChmiSh is that cauntiy, to the ^lodi it th* 
Albtgetaftn contest. : • - - ' 
. ' Allix has distinctly explained iSm in-die tenfh«t diaptori 
of his "Remaila upon dke^Eodttsiastieal Mkibiy of thi 
Aneient Ghurafaesof tb^ Albigenses.*' £ ea&not, howevei; 
•gite Irith' Alia m his opnion^^at die efiectsvf Piipoi Mt 
teadancy %ere DOtfdt%thepfehctes of teGldllechttKshM 
befoi« the l^ttentmy. in tho tmlfa cenluiy, the Popet 
began tb €0117^ tfadr pimit, and to 'eixeliciso' that nildtii 
mfliienxieover isivU and ecclesiastieal anthnridtey foriihieh 
they hiad to idiank the sresikness vi MiAe priiiG^s, tuA thi 
taperstitioiis ignoxanee of odieni. At fiist Ih^ In l ei poaed 
only bctwOMi contetiding partis wheh'they iwere uppeded 
to, but by debtees th^ dahned the right of arbitHitioii, and 
of enibrcin^ their sentfent^, whenerei^' sovCBeignft'wcre at 
Tuianc^ Tlith each other, or vkh the heada of Mea*. Thi 
f^nmncial pirtilacyiaDd clergy, who faadldtfafiitoheeii iiiM^ 
ptfadtotofa.fdroigtt pojatifl^ fbund <iieittteh«a dh^oA la 

fg^ wttk ^ itiwuB, and whh tbeir iod^pendenca tliey iost 
liiekiselfnSQipQot and integrity. Abuies, which 'at Ibtmer 
jpeiiods ivould have baen checked in the beginning by a 
tUsi^{r.ap|^flliiQ4o the uatropoKtan, or te the ^yiaeid 
ovnatMi^ ftynody ootrbecatae inveterate, awing to the 
kag interval ivhidi vcourred beibre the matter could be 
dmied'by a. heamg at th» seal of the Paqpacy* A distant 
tribqaaly'er a eowtofappeal, ramote from the scene ef 
dispute, (»naot but be the neana of extending mischieCt 
prejudioe,. favduf« corruption, imp^rfact evidence, delay* 
and jnisandeFBtajMlingB are but few of the impediments 
m the way of justice- and amejiocatian,. wh^a ^ questi^tn oL 
light or wrong has to be determined by a foreign judgeu 
f hie evil was thloroiiig^]^ feitat the period Uf whigh I have 
soade allusieii* / The bw^eiie isf Franca» assembled «t 
Rbeimaia d91, did eertainly piotest strongly against the 
enoroachments «£ the P(i|ies» and tlieii|ncteBded primacy -, 
but the principal resistance was. thence^orwaid made by 
isdividuaia^ riUher; than by assiembtifia. of psatesting. di- 
vines^ and it lAas looBd to bemuch easier (o bn^id. th«. 
opv^xonaof iodiiridnala jRth ihe joAme <^ hisriiy*. than the , 
dc ff ia rat i m a of yyids ea ce)n>eils>> . , .. 

c A£i^ :die. year. 10 j<0« them ^ipe&ied jympton^. of tbft. 
IHamcheaBv faemaj^ iin 1^ ^mth o£ Jim^c^" Thk m»fi » 
great adv^t«^4o the Popish fAity« .Ajiljrl)»i^p$)sed 
themsalvea to thexooi^liooa of Borneo yrsa» thfgi^fmik.. 
exposed ta the chdcge .ofjVIaniffheiwayand tfaAUgh Aothiflig.. 
could, be mefeqn^ting.than tlw epinioi^ of the Piat;. 

.hfBitiiea^yet the JEUnnanusti aa^^ 

^0f .TH» Ai310ANaS&. 

QfifedMl in 4laIiidtBS.die iinwwta- audi confiMiiiduiflr ^^ via^ 
Miction of pure ChiiiUaiiiiy with the pnqpvgatois of aA 
ajbominable error. Moztiay, authar of the Chtonolog^ca^ 
Ahcidgaaeal of the Histoiy of Fmace, was ao lnei!4 to 
the Albigttoaes} but he candidly admits,, that not aU 
vhom the chuich stigmatize^ aa Jieretica, were Mani* 
^hees: " There, wen," said he, '^ two sorts. of heretics.^ 
t^e one ignorant aiuliQOse« who were a cast of Manichees | 
the otlier more learned, and free from the chajge of im- 
HUfity, who held nearly the i^ame opinions as the. modem 
CaiviniitSi and were called Heniicians, or Waldenses, 
thoDgh the people igq^rantly confounded than with the 
Cathafi," &c. 6cc. . 

-> Berengariusy and those who were not ashanied of heipg 
called after his name, were the greatest upholdeis of tiulh 
of whom France qould boast in the eleienth centnxy, and 
especially, in tfapifi M>le eoofulation of t^e doctnne of the 
£^eal Presence. 

In the twelfth centuiy, before the term AJbigenses cam» 
iAt0 usei iOiist, the appellation of Peirobusitau, and afiier- 
lizards tliat .of JieMncian$, was s.ubfttitated for Bereng^- 
riatUf to dffligpnfft the im|nigners of F(^)Q97« The focmst • 
i^re'fto ctiUed afiber jPeter 4e Brais, who was brought to 
tjw vtuk^iftt St- Gilles, in 1126, upon the charge of burn- 
ing ^i^cpm, to boil his m^t on a Good friday; and the 
bitter (>9^» |2<lf^>i> A celebrated prf^acher of Languedoc, 
w;^tWt^.,)?9nH;.at Thoulouse, in 1147. It ise^dent^ 
e^f^.^ipom ^f^pish, i^Bs^moi^y.that a great proportion of 
the^nha^taj]^ of ^e ^c^^them ft^irincee had ponliniied to: 

yitimMik the opfaik»ai'of tkeir nio«ltdn,^iitid lb frafeM 

^086 purer fonbt and fvuic^pltt'of Cbiitiaiaty, wfaidk 

fidm^ailin, Peter de Bruv, and Henri biid been iiislni^ 

nentid in ttanniitti&g to their coonlkyineii. TheCpuicil 

lorToftiB, held in the jfiar 1163, spBals thin to the hxXi 

/' In the oitei)^ aboitt Thoiiknue, Aeve sprung up, kn^f 

ie^, ft dainnftWe henitjrt ivhich; by fitOe and Httie, tpisaJk 

jBbea caiicer as itr as die nogfabmring provioise of Gas^ 

fcogny, and hath afaeadgr inieetBcl many other proviiioea.'*' 

The Abbot of Clamux, quoted by'Hoveden, in his 

.annals of the year 1178, calls it, "A pUgnethathtf 

'made great head in thM ea«aiitiy." Hie Monk of Vtot 

.Cemay, die Inrtoiian and edogist of Simon de SficAtfbidl; 

iS^ giand persecutor of the Frotastants of Thbuloiile, tn&d^ 

•an aduio#ledgment to the same efiect, namety, that the 

'piinc^kles of thib Albigansea were of iimnemorial stafadia^ 

-in the provinces bf the Sondtef Fiance. *^ This trnucheroiii 

<citf ef ThouleuJBe, fitam its fiist Ibttndadon,'' old he, 

'" hath seldom or never been elear of this dJetbsiable pfa^^ 

Ofio^ difficult it is tophui np m deep-rooted evil 1 Tfi& 

pcason of heretical depravity txA superstitious infidisli^ 

lias'been neeeMaii^diffiised heie'from fitther to sdn.^ ^ 

/ Here, then, we have the ^eiy ^conoeii^n required.' 1 

liave:pn>Ved dA#hero that the Emnanistsof tibethttteenth 

.centuiy adnif die lugh antiqldty, m Piedmont, of die 

^piincqiletf aVoAmed by the WaMenses, and now evidence ia 

iprodttoed out eC their 'osmmondis, that the tenets "of tlAi 

.Albigenses were <tf high ttktiqni^ ita die Setiii ef Pfaned, 

.and may be tiiioednip t^di€ pridfitite chutes 4>f'6aid. 

2 m 

I iMI pvooaed toikovr AafctiheenonuliflBoaBanii 
taing Ifaal fMnrf of hisloij, ivhen the AlUgenaes 
pMdthe atlentioii of Eurape^ were committed 
tfMm, tnd toot ly Aen. 

' TIm Popiih wfifori of eraiy age hare aUowted, diat 
Ihoie was a period when the profligacy of the RooMva 
Chaieh, from te Popea dihrn to the lowait doigy, wm 
oodiaatocattliDrfhuBtvenalrepiDbBtioii. Atthiapeiio^ 
^dMMa w4io lejeeted or lenonaced her OMwamnioa wvn 
deriioiit of exfailntmg a itiiking contrast in BMiraJa and 
kaoMuMgrn, between themselves and tiia meaDheit of 
tiiat oonmpt chorch» against whose debaacfaeiy and 
Jiiperstifions Amj piotested* Tlosy in afl profaahilit^, 
led to tfie adoption of some extravagant,* Vat handam 
cQstnms among tiie ojqponents of Popeiy , and uie oiia- 
«eftsd and ^taial dbedienoe to waApbMi pseeepts pro- 
< M Sed^aiBsr of .diem> svas csoiverted into an anagge- 
jatodahaige against Aewhflie hoitf^ when the lUnan 
see ^Qooeeded in penoading or bompelfing <he Fianek 
dNSbojIs to'Snnendor tfieir independence, and fiaand Mlf 
^atniBg enangfa to make bead against tiie B c f oiiaew. 
Tbiis, beeane soma of Ae Pratestania of the Soadi if 
l?iaaoe pat a foroed cott8traeti<m npon the conuaaod, 
f< Thou Shalt not kill/' and quostioned die nght of mi^ 
•gistieBtes to inflict the penalty of death; andbecanse othsM^ 
Wiahnig to abide fay the very leter of Ghikt*s pnesft 
'• Imy nnto yoa, awear not at all," lefnsed to be sworn 
.befaee the trilmnals of the civil aathofities,-^it was mafi- 
.eieesly ui^ad against aU sqch as w^ caUsd AlbigaMiS, 


«iHit ihtf ii^mmtd ikt inkdklkm d wmigi^tatJm and 
pnwet altogcthflr, aiidlliat thcj pnpagiitBd << dis^^ 
tenols/' hMlile to Mciely. 

One ithe lepott ivas u eaaly tfntd M anotlifir* The 
Fiteitante iniiirtiiiMid that w> pwia— , whgthffck^pr « 
lBily,4Kight to be bemad by vows «C oelib«qy» and for «bia 
thqr wMB accMed oC deoyuig the virtae oC omiUoeiMib 
tad ef pieaifliiiig and piactiiiag all BHuner of isapqnlj* 
liiraalfaiia^ttheRoMttnrta biytwifd the ch«iasta» 
itf-^wie ^o tremiMBa nrtiaiial m their fomaefwanhq^ 
ind own pQBB m nunak, tfai|A themaehva; hot we dd aaifc 
find aa^ thiagf apedfle in their aliagatioiis. We hane 
itolhhig but nOiaf aeciuatioiif, WMabataaidatad bfivool 
Thm ate ito weU fviified faeta addaeadinPopkh ai^^ 
IB evidenoe of the vices which they attribate to the AMh 
IpaMHa. The A l big eniea have been faraadad as aangai* 
jMiy, faBPoioaa » and oniri laiiiciaaatB^ whn del^ghtod hi, 
WeedAed, BHwhaaa ha»e we any aiiwipiBB of Aeir 
cmal^l If they had befn sodi aa to putify the i^pa^ 
aeptotinni of thoae Popsh wiiten who apeak. of *flUt 
faocky of their ptooeediaga,'' a^ *'tho eMnaitiea to 
aihich. their ptineipka U," we nhoidd.pQaaeaa dalatied 
aooewtfa of the o^ine^ ilanghlBr, and devaatatioh, wineh 
joa laid to their cfaai«B» Waahoidd have the tiaaa and 
the itec^nAtfiB each thmgs were petpetrated^ te untt 
and die flnaaheraf their victaas* The Beaatfials teaoed, 
raa.iaeiitonoeadMids* iastaaoaatof caiaage aad qialiaticft 
^amapttodiby thai«w»pflople» Mid do not di^piiie Aat 
the fataar of^oaed to the ASiieeafles, auunacied the* 


bittnti of whole towns and yillagw; tlift they A»^]pttl 
*'iizt7thoiiMaid"totlieiwoid; that tbef bant ^'HiMf 
hundred" in one caitle, " and eigfatjr in enother."' > ■ ■ '■ 
At the tiege of Maimande, Prince Looii indnoed die 
inhibitantt to delher up tiie town, iqioii- hk nend 
pvtaiiie diet their li?ee ihoold bo i^emL BvtaU Ad 
men, women, and children, five th»aaand in nombv; 
weie nuunacied, in order that dnehnnmnholnoBwrf wight 
bring God's Messing upon the aims of the cjruse dsafc 
The slaaghter was in direct oppositiott to the will of XiOns $ 
but the coonsel of (he Bishop of Saintes prevailed. *'M$ 
«dvice," said that prelate, *' is, that 3P0111 imnMriiaiMlylaB 
jand bnni all these people, as hwnetics ' Ma d ap o stal ssv ud 
that none of diem be left alive." Romish aulhtoii «ie4bd 

- The AJbigenses are accused of being ^eqaiUf.boililf 
«6 church voAstrnte/' Of their hostility to tho Chucb of 
Rome, there is no question ; but where iumtibopniofiiiif 
dieir being obnozioas to the ttatef There is JMiifauig in 
history which can estabHdi such a diaige; oa dmeoAt 
traiy, it is manifest upon the fece of eveiy documsntihst 
is come down to as, that the Alhigensea were Tirteoiib 
peaceable, and industrious subjects; that they 1 iinniliiinri 
'the good-will of their sovereign rulers, and fendatoiylotds; 
-by their fideh^ and obedience ; and that tho'CDimls, n- 
counts, and borons, to whom they owed'semoe or ftal^, 
lost their lands and teiritories, because the|y reftned to 
Mbaadon tbeie fiuthfol vumh to thia will oT tev op» 

AhtMt >H tint we teowt ef the AttigBHMii>ji w^k»^wl 
fteni their eieMues. Meeks eDd' dwrehaieiii. wera .the 
hiitorieia of the day, end. ihet M:the Mwm pky w§ 

i^pannglyinf^lied irMithw teiti of deiwted afbotiM* 
erti'gettriieity w hhJi eiie leqriied lo thte» a ehapi over 
lhiMnwyefoeewwmiliM> mMMvernoiMdhffirefiiMd 
ear ivfaeiadM de viliMd fit diilvlBd» Atti we en J^ 
infer, fiom tibe nmehnriew pehlic Mcrificeik ; which. thi» 
oeiieppyjpeBpleinedoiii.theceHie el cml •od.jeligiees 
Aeedrai^ int iartinota eC. |«in«» and deiwwtic .veHh 
were ee ***■—""'* tmiMMr tfaem« RejHHiiifcd liie Sudhn jbmI 
KdymihdAeSafenfe, €etalior 3:hii4e!Me^t^%l»(f«lflll 
aihiile ef Seic and CtaBetaoiie. jvd;ii|o..ViiK0paldlf 
Beaen, (onuttiog eU mention o£ inferior lonb.^jM|lijiMi 

fcrthe AUdymiMi^ nlU ICihe Aah^meii JvmI 
teiUf'iABdfeted ^icBBeelvee ifomidehlft es fliBBieioee>te iiM 
esielbig" tempeiel- andioRlieer by. <* Ifaeir Anete-jclLeiiil 
feiwerjnd property," is it likely Ihet tMe paeoee. »o4 
walgaeHBr end all the influential. cl a pei -of.jiecitfy» .win^d 
Ineeeq^oaed Aev cnue end atowed theeamiwieiilir 
tteofiit • ■ 

^ Tlieeiilfenenytheith^had,waethe;BQinetiGhn«9h« 
a^ wten liMv lenileealii eiuMe* the Cem^of Thomlemei 
after heimr wwi FO f i ri yrf £w iadiilffiae Bitv Hmt the heeetiGS. 
eoMi eMag JOMmlbeni jewiiihttMittj wee wljicittdt^j.the 
^?iipa^«lHgy >io.€aiif ihe.eentHM» of theidvufh iiil9 
efict agaiait diem, he t>leaded that " h« tfovl^ fHi|#nd 


Mi aas AiAiosNMv. 

^.BaeoM/* Mid ht^ «* fth» Majoii^ aI te Im^ m^ tlie 
pnt •£ te .ecmnoii. peoplfl, Jivvd .droitk .te 
«f their iiiM0%.'' TteiGowtof 11umfeiiiQii«» 
to tlMiUMboi«f OstMrtls^rMii ItoofiHRs 1}« l^fllW 

iii'liBMiM wkidft tiiEi'-^hmflfaBAB' 'tMBld uBdantttiA 

MidnoC&BMnl lif imliiM i1 nflitmii wfcaekflieeaflHnBA^A 

BiiiMitinn of 4mb Atttegihcs, ind JaBMntt ifaKSOariL wm 
ibe F^iAtt>!fidniM)ad*tiMtalnfla8h;te^ 

MtviM jhgip- »g igpdMiMit .^ tot i a mJi lv..«lifln ike.'WBEh^ 
wlieii ^^^ftofkb '/* wrtl tfae^pttMBdliag'paBtiff IttHitf 
««0*M, in ail ^pMiiiWdkkilillfiilMi^ thtt.^thir 

ia««l»«4elin.tid«M(fi9raDoe at'Alti^ whidb^giEVft^MMt 
ift«Hte«Alfaigwnii, ^whwB 4h> hidam of ikm Pmmitm 
iMKOiMit 4bot to!liMa».bf iteir. Mftoim, HMj.bmteJif 

tiwwd SttH» iBuwiwIiinuBt, 

daefanHfait vduGk^iw- A]b%iMtt «db:«£»ltek 

ftiigliito Apfailoiii/ Oft McMdid itt ^mtmsdk^ nw t t^Otk, 
mtd sited by BttomoT. " W« heUefe," Aid 't^;««^ilit 
imrnkfuu^cit^ Otfi itk TlufQ Fertmi,:ilid1E^fte^; the 
9(m, aud^ ifoly Mortr imd tiitr «h« fikfti-ef Odilnai; 

#•» lit teted ki ib»>iiMaKtmi'i diet he pi«MMl out 
iiilttHuii4h>lhefMft|Bd?diad, iiri^i^ Verted; ttalibb 
ifcitowtded kito'lwii, iImtIm imb agan 4iei tlM.^dMf^ 
ihCft lie aicended into hetmi; AM he nat tiie^lMf 
OMtt^ottplbe di^ ef^Beiieoott ^th•t he A«ll eoMet^ 
d^r«r jtldlineBt, to judge Iwlh 4m qeiihreaid.Ardoid| 
vMd that idl ehall ite agtki* >WeJmeir^ilhij thtttiiiM«k 
M MHeite :inih our hMtt^'^ne eaght lb ct rtMHw tfi our 
iMttlh; Webtlieve Aat he kr»it MiMd; «Hie doil(«]fol 
gek^ehedjrof JeM»C9uiM^ •adtelliieMy^>Mii« 
CUft it oDi eouMnted barte AeehiMlr^eDid-ihflhe 
fnMty be he geed ae bedr We birillve'eiM/Aat^flnM 
^a^be wwe^ buttheai Aenw bmniiudvead <l|te<Hae 
isfaildien eie wi^ed by leyiiiei. We: bifiewOaiiD; ^et 
«n» fed wiferMe Mied* tfaeoj^ tiMgr %e«eaieMy jeiMd ) 
«ari;'thit ev«y one.eint i«tMit#ilh hitmlMlliasd^hii 
iMeit^ and- llii^ if nme coeld ^be iho#B « •tenr Ai 
Oaapab^aiid ite fipiilleir,' «f« «fil>baliave mAi/ffiii^i 
.Slfia etpfioil and CMiliiiil eaufiMo&ivw aatenoi^lrta 
'-mtklfy.ltitf 'Bamaniaiirs the AlbigBnaae mn ireadamned 
-w hemliet, ezeommaniealed, and'uaAnmaittd'l^end 
ell €WiliBii^|iewan^^^h8diir dei^ereeeMaitioai^ litofe 
i rf i f iHiM K aad>. an iii m aiiiai l bf^ th« ^Vnffei to exIeiauneM 
ftiftBdef i^aD|da^.«lMitf firiBii|ilaa»^'ai the butt eCeatoMi^ 

404 THS ALB10EN1S6* 

naiioB let forth, were tnlnreiiive of all lel^gibB, nftlm) 
md levealad, and of eveiy moral tie. 

But tbe princes and magktnitesy and the tempnnJ •■•• 
thoBtiea of Languedoc, were still nnwilliqg to euij lUa 
badaioos edict into esecntioii against peaceable aaljectw 
w1k> bad given no oflbnoe to tbem. They leMdmlrateft 
Ibejr pleaded in. fiivour of the prescribed, and &uStji 
nAiied to be their executioners. The animosi^ e£ te 
CSmxch of Rome now bunt forth in all il» rialeDqa 
•odmaligmty; and the records of the proeeediogs agaiMt 
the Albigenaes leave not a doubt behind, that it was dtfi 
^pnnelofthechttoch, and not the oomplainta o£ the stat^ 
whioh invohFed them in min^ It may be aeen^ that tha 
Anndeis of the PcqjM were diwctBdindiyrimi^alftly agaiBit 
all who pwtecta^t foivouued* or held intefcourse with Aev^ 
as rebels of the Roman see; and th«e was nftifaclaiatijM 
of war, no suppensinn of hostilities, no treaty, or violatioB 
of treaty— 4here was not a battle fought, adty taken, p 
aassacre executed, or a. confiscation aurjaBded-r-iii aborts 
there was not a stratagem employed* or a, fbice appttedr 
during the whole of these crusades, which ended in tii0 
lolal extirpation of the AUngenses,— but the Pope» h^ 
l^iatew or a Roinish prelate or priest, was. the moviqg 
power. When si^gewas laid to the capital of Tsmgwfldeii; 
in 1217/ Caidinal Bertrand, the legai6 and i ft y wi emali— 
of the Pope, uttered a sfdemn prediotien, by way. of eo? 
couagiqg the soldiere of the cnws, ti^t the ci^ woiild 
All, and added a vow, liS;^ ** t«ithet nuft nor nvnauw 
bay OQT pi\, d;iould:i«in^ ^^^» TiHi«i»ll^RAi^\ftLJatk 

TBI Ai^iasvsts; 4A$ 

tibomi another;- ^ This hufible oath refidered fhe besieged 
more despento, and their defence was sttccessM. ' ^ 
It is aatmal enough for Pi^ts of the pwstit day to? 
dieclirim trahsaetioai, whkh have cast a itode of mdeHble^ 
ittflgfacenpon tiieirdnweh ; hut iHien ^Mse events dcctirred/ 
tte. Boma&usts were so iar from denying tiie part they iiM} 
iii&ehbedshed and devastation, whSfch reduced the Ullitstf 
ptoviinses in Fiance to a desert, that th^ gloriedin tfaeif* 
shame, and proclainied aloud Aeir pre-emlaenee in the 
twnsjiacilimni ot feat leign of tem>F,' as if the nomb^ of 
ths- fifis Aey were enabled'tD sacrifice, was a proof thatF 
Hgaftn snsled upon' their canse. Bar(Miks,'aBftong hhi^ 
jl%B» ef the iim diitich, has pUieed Ae tmttnph of th^ 
Bishop of Bome over the Alb^ienses, and has stated th<^ 
slangfater of idzty.dMrasa&d heietics'in a single day, to be 
ttioonvioeing proof that 0nd was with' the -Papal baaneiA^ 
f^ aflMng cfittuttstanee; that Raytiiond'the Sixth,' 
Qeaii'cf I1i6ulottse, himself a lUaia!^, exposed hhnite^ 
to allihe penalties and tedtors of excoommnication, tm^ 
conssBteid to shave liie &te of Us Protestant snl^jecis,^' 
iM&er tiuA deliver thees npto therteader mercies of the^ 
BoauftXaniiidi, ir o# itself a eonvindng proof ttat HM 
AlhigensM were gnilty of noHcoHfifrmiiy only, «mI Mtf 
they had net* trespassed against socia] or'hitematieAal 
kMbV' When this piinee was besieged in f he«^oa8e» ^^ 
te cmsedeis; as the sekKers of thechilieh InHiislieMriblb) 
Warweie cafied, the^citiaeiismadesonBelnteadeftiieev' 
thi^ tha aMaSants retom to the attattil, and' 
.Mm>» de SfoadM woald h%ve retired ftomte |(bi^, 


krt for the folWwfaig midiiirtiiii eduMtatioh of thePope't 
legate : " Fear oothiiig, for in a short time we dull take 
the city, aad pot lo deaA and destroy all the inhabitants; 
attd if any of the soldien of the cross shall die m tiiil 
eipedKtioD, they shall pass to Pariidiae as martyre, and oF 
dits they may oonfidoiUy persoad^ themaelyesl" One of 
tfie principal leaders, who heard this iihpioda odnnsel^' 
oeald not tefrdn himself, but made this answer, '* lify 
Lord Caidiaal, yoa talk with great asirairance ; hot if dib 
Count believe you, it will be little to his profit; for yos;^ 
and the odier prelates, men of- the church, have beetf 
the cause of all Hm evil and ruin, and will be the eaas6 
of yet more." Thb anecdote b taken fivm the work of 
Peter, the Monk of Vauz C^may, entiUed/ " Hislbtift 
Albigensium, et saefi b^ in eos suacepti." Peler, as 1 
QMBtimed before,' was the enlojgist of tiie general of Ae 
cMsadeiiy and it is from die relation of this cfairiRtoan 
that meat of ^iafotmaliiin is gaAeted which we ^psiti^ 
^oaoemittg the war against die Afoigenies* The an- 
thari^ of an eye-witness and tif sm adveisaiy cannot be 
dilpiited ; aad we sequire nothing more Ihan die pages of 
tiheMftdcnfynuzOefnay, to ^^tdMiih tfeb innooenoB«f 
the AUngensea* ^ 

Whsn Innocent the Thiid foffiul that it wai nol enoHgh 
to exeeaununieaAe Raymond of Thodouse, aadtohgrUs 
tiuitaries under an interdict, he leSeiied to n metture 
which bigotry has ever found to beaonch mme-efiectnl 
titan j«aaflkug or pefanasien. He^etomAed toiiasiBB 
^b»>wnih. of.>oan»siiiiM»by ft^'aadviMld;-^ ^or dA 


^wpoM he fiiBt iostitKtQd the loquiiitkm* awl oonmufr* 
wooed the memben of that exeoable tribunal with fuU 
powefif to seavdi out, and to denounce* as infideli de* 
•esving of death, all soch at should dnpute the* autfaorit]f 
«f the Roman see. He then enlisted the veiy wont pas* 
sions of sMn m his service : he promised the patdon of 
sin, the. pro pe rty of the heretics, and the same privilegea 
which had been granted to those who fooglit against the 
Saiacena in Palestiae, to all who would " take the cioss 
«gainst the Albigenses." 

The Pope's bull, aceoiding to our Romish historian, 
tan thus : ** In coolbimitjr with the canonical sanctione 
«f the holy lathers, we must observe no fidth towaida 
those who keep net feith witb Ood, or who are aeparatod 
ftom the communion of the ftithftil ; theiefora we diN 
^arge, by apostolical authority, aU those who believe 
themselves bound to4raida the Count of Thoulouse, by any 
oath, either of allegianee or fldstily i and we peimil eveiy 
Calbolic, saving the right of hie principal loid, to pursue 
his person, and to oeciqjy and retain his territories, espe- 
cially for the purpose of estennanating hensy." The 
name bull invited strangers fiom all rogiens to eoate te 
llie accomplishment of the holy woA, and to coisidar 
flwmselves as in the enjoyment of plenary indulgottoe, 
smd of ezempdon from the jwisdietien of all eartUy 
tribunals, as long as they should be fighting in the eerriee 
«f the church. 

The prospect of absolution, of booty.aadefvniestraiBt, 
ttid the barbenms eupeistitien of the times, bioughl hioidii 

lit mi AiMnnammi 

•f wfcttlieii wigtt upbp- the ^miM AW»s»am,-iu6k 
CwmIi qo MUNilMra» ftjr gwifenu libitfwty' ffSi put -^ist th€i 
MM OT wM dUMfin* Att wmj to dnonlefl]r»* M'vnsp 
to ilwl hhoAf tomemkm, m^ itmtUSb^, aevehr took tiw 
field* "-A fte devotaied iMfae'tiiteky itad hehind la'ttnie 
iMiMd. The iMd wa* te Ite gudea nTSdeii bdbn 
Md befeMi a—fc > JH i il M u i w ^ d oiuMi : yett^lod 


. PiodigM of f«lMr eoM «r«fl .M&iiig in tte tee of 
en enemy, wboee Imm m leedeHior loBimtits weieiiGii* 
malkfMMmp^.iam94mmmtn. 6«tnftMiiott ^Htf of 
M ^ne,' wlMii»«BM oflM-iM lo wefrft^Mf nf iMmfinr-ov 
cMfelijr.'lMl of de8lra6ti«»«Hielf4o iibubi i^fjiy/4lift 
lifeedewifaii^ Itwa^^toefiioikKfttolQU^eiiilofpie 
MC^ tad tiwiltNglikfrof tnhefieitlb ^ms coi u a tocd tl i aoMfi 
loPeiidiie. ChUtiftM ma inB oae»f the iiwt flfccet ^hit 
W befoie the invlkden. ;It tt^iftlileiBd. Tiie l^wioii 
"vret fieiimtted to OEieiich iMt^'hHi te ittfaMhitei^ 
to -tfae^enteiice-of-tiie 1^«'# le^vrfe; He pmolMiiKed 
Jtfaem to be heretieft; aed tit weie ^omBoiMtfd to the flamek 
1B0PWM ' WM -ottackfid' taeit; . It rdied^ «i^ the ttrangdk 
'Of'ilt'waHa •aii4^th9'«e«ftgfr'^ tto-dtfBndtfB^ tot^ 
^mllitwie of itoawailMV was Mdi, litoft^ ilfA y y oM ed'ii 
if theWhiOle 9Md WM^oMOM^ 1llBfll|f 

•«M» takoATa^ Iho fiiMMMlty land^Mme-^f <h».»oimiiiM» 
^tii^Btuig after hefetic blood on^ ^Wto^ihe legato^ 
take etoo and bave a dittinotion made bet««^ IhoiaitMal 
.aod^o uabelitvenk "Kill alV'''aaid4hoPope'aN9fe. 
rW^«»«. . ^' the^^lj^id^wffl-aftepwdi ttlect ^me Xfa^ 

)etter, aj»d all wer^ sbun. Qf iim», woomb, and childi««» 
not om yff^ ifift alive, and Uptown waa laduoad to ubm^ 
Cpi|tonifipz|ury higtoriam diffei aa to the nivoBhar that pa* 
.lishad at BeBaoia. - Soina aiyr* iuty thouaand; oliMca^ 
iortgr thoimiid* Tlie.^9^ lumalf, » hUknerto Fafia 
jAPPfW^t \Jb» Xhiid. jnfmM it toi be iAcm tbovwid. 

• fifteen ♦hnw«anJ hnman faeiiiffi. tfaeB^ ■wim aaaaMmd 

^t,tiva.4VDi4 (tf OBo. 1^ <»1M h^ualf .tlia ■cnaut of 
.fio^ ^Thfk fosoaa of ^a ^^ntlani . naicbad oq m 
IfWffKfkilfo.ukfmf^ Qi/iqtmwBfi* Skfo^g inlaiicaaaiaa wm 
ipada -.^^ .tba Ipfate ia.|&¥ t|ia^70«9g' Vivpoiwti 
^|io .ivaa B^H^np wi^i. tbe.citia^.of Camaaiai^f a«d 
th«-taiiaa of.JiMicy.ofiBBsad to:liin|.waify tlwt h^^ witht 
^t^lhe ci^ with twelva.oth^»..ttpoa f«» M aw* 
vwderipg up. tha ueat of tha towvame):i.aiKL4oidimB..|a 
tlu;. pleaauoB of the besiege^. ''.Rather than .oonqp^ 
ynth, the demand of the ^ptte/' rapliad theheioic yoath* 
y I would s^ve myinlf to be flayed aiive." The pac^le of 
(be ciif aiiarwaxda escaped by a seciat passage The 
liBgate took poaaession of Caicaaaooe/ ' in the naine ol4he 
4^ujKh«" and in nudignant raaantneni at the thouabt 
pf, ao many liotima having etaapad hia Any, bamt .or 
baqgfd thraa bundrad bni^ta who had prayioaBly oapi- 
iMji^Mt upon the guarantee of. hia aolenu» oatblbattfaay 
^»hou]d.not be put t» death! . - 

i M^ tbii tbna^ the dnad.oC ihainvadiBg ayen^ hacUat^ 
ikaded fu and'iviiitokover the irovincaa, ^' Vnrf9fM» and 
JUangittdoe> Md piiapia aiwi peapla w0uM have bean jjjlad 


41^ mit kiMfd^sil^. 

tt^'Mwplf wsy IMtafMirlMBP ^mr1IIm0 j*^ onit noiiB wctc 
«AMd'! i1k6 creMd0iftt'8tiU jiieachAltllrottgh the tvhofe 
0?' Fmiiccf,- flnd * 9ft8tf ]ffesr brongllt* tbonsaxofe'of laosadcs 
1» the h&HIMt of dftngfcftef and' «p6!ktfoii'. In many cases, 
MfttiTd war «Mm1 to ^(f iiiitetl6ir of detXk. A huiidied of 
Atf huhabitsmw of Bftota h^'tfieiip cy^ tonf otft, and AeS^ 
HMto' cttt off. laftiinMtfM' byihb 'e^mihpfe, ^h^ peq[»le 
of fiGtiei^a' wCKiM'h^ve iiUT6iid%!ted''ti]^KRl di^itdi^jn of 
wvin^ ihtSt litetf' tf|x&rdd* D^ Motttroid) to ^K^ioi&'tfii^ 
•|ipileaaiyii vfUsi nf^uw,' n^ierrm ihelh Icf^the re^sttey i?%o 
MirAiPi^Myi th&lfftridt ofTfttnt'eerHflf; •'^^r^^M 
oMittto 'of^'Cbriit 8hoald''btf ^mtio dliafh, iMit he coaM 
HMf taMi^ptfn'hitoMlf to wtOottis^tb^'^ tur1Mfng^«priMI 
«iid « iMonk."' '^^cliim;IHAatirciiiiti*ired^tM^«i'tid 
cillrftiil^Mk. Hh^ i^kee ^was' taOtiSii hf 'ailBaRUt» 'iMd' ifi 
fcMt'thieife peri<hted% ^i i wiu pe» a e^ lirtfa^-itoiite,»' - < 
' £tt»tet'Wlfiohlrt)ftiieatitts 
i«iiU(rd«ltaee. 9fi3lBtirbmfiM%ai^ 
III lepifrin^the btettbMfti^ l&tev htt^^^pid isnpbAf fvofaft upm 
ttie'wefliv AiBf^RngeitfMifco^v^/ntxnrtfiift tnd a11:oiii# 
iteeatiUHiBi; ft ge&eHwji itJ0idfB^/'t^hS^'#6tdd'1taVtf sootni 
jjMoCCJMi' tO'the eaitiM^, If IShif kaifttf' or'dlfei^'toettles Mdf iMf 
Beea-flR^d'iii^ l^'ttoMr^»f1iAw^e«fek, ais'fillbt ^s^thd^iieill 
thinned by tiie ci«MMRS%ll df'dM^%ajr;' fifthiB ^^'llllfr. 
ilie-' artAy '<# tMe citiMxfeTd'waS'ftfttr'lkuetf jMfAeWe^i and 
so universally was it understood' tb tie tile qiiarrel of tftb 
dftnth", tM e«6tesiiuASeal'digftkaflei cttaie fh>m «11 
^<Itterttertf' to give It d^tit to th<^ptt>be6dkkg9. We ntA 

of-ae Prelvosf^of^tW«i«el^ofCJiiig«^ M AtdMiMMMi 

of PaivH ^iWti^,44Jjm^ UvJM^iiC 1>iil 4ii4yllM 
A^)qM>iil>op qif |Umimi» who weie fi^t^nt ii^w oim <»-. 

lf» I^yai^. 4> fvBiptiooble* lireoeb wtn «Mii»iiio(io in 4bo 

mmiik to jMito-ilfilt lenglH'te pjrt-whMhibe rhiwMiM ; 

9m%M^ J<g4itoMw *hit tho y i hiin , Aft iJihPt of 

8M«it|imf«ltiMii1^ loiHginhijIiliiiiMriiOK iheyflHriha 
awmi^ :bfBuuMiie« and Mttg^.ilw ^yiMii*. Vm UtOoi^ 

%pi:ii»^ |iO9tM:WM.'lQ0j|oiF, on opdar-wu ikon to 

^imwi^tfirndgtij^**' TkitMfnMDOu "bosirtthtmaliMi 
JtM^sr^ioif" {» Ihe^tiyMi -** «» iogmti gudioti 
i»,iQf fiawiiwt iii» Mik tlw poMlgf hirtari4ii« irho woo. 
lifmi^* '?^ IbeMrMt ^«ttoi» nnpgwdiii tUi aocwwrff 

iXtiojpmfia tfti(#w 4w MoMoaof iIm 4aj^ tf^^ 
tiioip6i«o«£«anii90wiikhll«a^deaiKib»» oad movofNUh- 
iMPtoriyji^aW'fonoi* telinttbeir nriatioii, -tiiot tiho Afr- 
bigenMOi hod^ftnM indwyihiBg^ biifc4bdc nfim&^fe 
oaaftwn<o.1faoiiirti nmk aiwipKiy tf Rooy^ 

4t% ' THE ALBIOKlf^fiS. 

At hmgdkt Ihit hornbte #ftr tended ash liegan, by' 
OBaftannd of the Mvevngn pootiff, because all open resis- 
tance to hie wifl wae pot down, and Popiati ascendancy' 
ntk ftnaUy eUaJMkhtedin a qnattnr, where the righl oT 
Wtmtydi cottarience had UCheiiU^heett elainied from Iher 
Smvmnimtilatmei'ik9&ivpd. ^Tk^iiaathhsA gained* 
kar>ob^ by tlie total' ^detMniNi of tt^who had^ansIF 
l»oppoMtev .*IISlMieff6m«iMl«»AIbig«iMfttodA«i^ 
oral laiifll tbifae iv«Mttib*iiift*itt the 4ekMi o^ 
Mough to {Mfch iMfiiefetifate/ o> aAnliMBterthli l f Ibf ins' 
of woiafai^ ' Smk oI die vkm« foktenate &ad fled to^yfher' 
oaiiiitiiiB; t#h(BM they pneaerved' and lufpt'iidife'dieljCttip^ 
of tndr amiist 'te; '&iu i eu a d i M g daildtess. ' llie tbtSr-^ 
pJdMk mtA io ooittpleie/ that in lei» ihan ^Otbtyi-iiilee 
yeiflw ffttn ihfe'be^Blrti^ ef thte vnBaae'y ttfe^AIo^enaea* 
wwe uO mnn , anti ^ffven xTotflBtanusm Tearea its neaa 
a^ftib in V it % f 9 tt6 € and Iy«hg4iedo&, after' an ^tet%al'o^ 
^threi «eiiiari^^ 41 wae lecogmfe^d undte another baihe.'* 
Tl^ iiihe-nieA'ex|rai[(rdidafyr<i&d "^ tai^ deaxiy in-' 
dietiiiire' of ik^ hitUMi'edKet of 'extehmnation irhic^ had 
gone fyt^', from a oou^iiaeii ^tareeti the atati of A&gr 
itt Piedaoo^ and that iatjtte ^kMAii of Fnoiee. iW 
^«iiafetaat»of tii0fii|iiiitto8ndtqt4ia»«^ie»ar4>oen eiiffitf|r 
eradicated, although they ha^ Wen xednceid fiom «»o 
himdred thoiisand to tv(r<Mity thouaaad ; and timn centoiy 
to century a lontaant of them Have stiU proaeived their 
inlieiitatice in the iaUeysof tbenr fcra&diem, anddieir 
dift&iguished denomination, VaudoiB or Woldensea. 
But the unhappy Albigsni^, from the ntostKKi o£ the 


country, ireoe mora exposed to Uat fiireigti mgreaaion 
which the JUmaiiists stined up: vad, not poiaeinng the 
■ame natonl fartneaaes and monntain ratteata as the Wal* 
4enses« wera entire]; pppp^xtf bsm te«&ce of the earth, 
and not a vestige of them left. Albigensiaa piindpies 
indeed, never fluled, even in Laqguedoe, the scene of per* 
aecQtkm; bnit^e AM^fnmm, or l!he eonununities properly 
so called and kiK»wnbythisnameinthethirteeBlikoBBABiy» 
we^miBii^daslrasMd* lathelip^iMgo^thetiaapdiitpB 
of Sismondi'a mmtAnai liif^fmtfdm Hm9^ ^ M\»f 
senses, which has heen. no small miitainTft to me- in 
drawing vp this ijctiele^ " Tbiii ^hweii was drown^ ia 
bkiojL their race had j fa a p y i w w d * hmiAni^ aClilmfilir 
lams, had seen, all dmir inhahifsnfs inisaaflfiid with a 
KiinH fiudr. and arithfliil the fMuadem ajtiiwr llMiiiiialiHCii 
the trouble to examine ^whifher thiqr pryt«i>id • iiHgla 
heretic* No calcolatioii can ascertain with any precision* 
thediasiBaliDnof wnaldia oe thadsslmliMi i>f human lilai 

wh^vQM the compyiinffal af th» emstde agaimit tjtip 
Albigenses. JBraiy JiHW<sof wiattot M fffna ^ iti o H i 
of every kind hadbMt|lMa9ai«>4WBliiads«ft^ whifpy 
T . angnf ) i < w ai pi , wh<ia> jwtw thQ cnMtdoi M bad haw tht 
cnstomto i g a w i w hi nj wdw ihpfwanliMuntfaf ^A^ 




How iwMt ii the song of the Laik when liie springB 
To weloome the morDing whtr joy on her wings ; 
The higherihernes the sweeter' she Bings, ; ' 

' And «he sings when we hear her no more : 
When stoims and dark clouds veil the' sun firom.aur sight. 
She has mounted above thein^ she shines in thelight: 
Thus, fiurfrom the scenes that diatnib aiid «ffiight». 

' She lovee her gay music to poiur. : 

^Tis thus with the Christian; his willing soul fiiee/ 
To welcome ihe day-i^ring diat stiealns from the sbea; 
He is drawn by its glorious eflygenee to rise 
' To the region from whence it is given : 
He singson his way from this cloud-covered spot ; 
The quicker his pro^^ess, the sweeter his note; 
^IVhen we hear him no longer* the song ceases not — 
It blends with the chorus of heaven. 




■ ♦ 

- The folk) wing -passages are extract^ed frotn^ 
those Reviews . of the "Amulet'* for 132/, 
which have already appeared: 

. **Thl8 is an elegant, iateTesting, and inatractlve aaaqal ; a% 
amulet against ennui, and an, exciter of thought on subjectfr 
calculated to make the. heart wiser, and the life better. " ■ \ 
We talce'leaVe of * The Amulet* with a strong feeling of r^gard,^ 
for its various departments are executed Mith that ability which 
cannot fail to ensure It saccess.*' — Literary Chhmieie, > 

' ' . ' . . . ... . 

"Taken as a whole, thU elegant Miscellany does great cretUt 
Xo the taste and spirit of the editor. The eabelUshments are 
decidedly supeii^orto those in the former voituae) and are Trer^r 
beautifully executed." — Eeleciic Review, ^ .' 

• ' ' . .1'' 

. *' Impresse4 u we are with the importance aa well as the 
excellence of its plan, it seems to us one in which our beat oC 
writers might be proud to enrol their names, and one to excite, 
^heir utmost, exertioo.—^——: — rT:W« M^'^ to ^ bestow Qur uun 
qualified praise on the getting up of the Yol\tm^,,"-~lti^9W%^ 


. .. . . - . ■ ' , ... . f . ^ 

' '"The Amulet* has ten fine engravings, besides autographasr 
and its pretensions are by no means beyond its merits. The 
^ose, too, fully equals the poeti'y ; and we trust the public count 
tenance will amply repay the labours of the editor " — Ne»o ' 
JSonthty- Magazine. ^ 

.V. "It is, altoj^her, pefha^s Ute most attractfre apecimen' of 
the present state of Literature, Typography, and the Graphia 
Arts, that ever ibund its way to our tAhie,**—'New'BapUatMag-}' 

"We are happy to find that there is sufficient tast^ in pro- 
ftesQta of Kiit^.tii,tha fMredent day, to. eneounige the patili. 


9im •kjil ■■a CTtoitiKfclng • vtmng m tht, tfietltle 

•r wldcb alnds at tfie head of Ihtentide^ ^The Mg0 

•f tt« Work hM our hctfCf c o nc ui reuce, and ttia manned of Its 
•xwntloii caoMit but catlCia It to oar pralie.*'- 

**Wtfli tha natiura of thii auraal pablicalioo, whldL 
commcaeed twalra monfhfl ago. and was lecelTcd w^ geaeral 
opprobaUon, wa rcadan are already antnalntcd. It condata 
of original eomponitlona in prote and rerae, In the fOnn of 
Uograpbical ana.lilatoTlcal aketcbea^ tales, and essays ; some 
of which are of a decldedlY rellgloas character, and others of « 
atoral tendency, cslcolatea at once to afford intellectual grstiiU 

«?«?' ^*?^ P>«?>3«.»>»« *a««»t^ of ^^ a^ Y|i1nc»'— 
WMteyvn MHhodut magoMine, 

" Wo are pleased to see thisalegant and lastructlae Cbxistmaa 
GUI mske its appearand . fp early. Wo, should hava tf e g il p 
regretted had not its predecessor met with oncoaragementsinE* 
cfent to hare Indneed the publishers to conttnoe the aeries^' 
We hope that it will soon obtain that established natratsMO 
Hhioli Hs BMrfts desarte.' Tho eollectioa, twen as « 

whole, to Mglily honourable to the talents of the writers s and 
raBeeUgftMH eredit on file Jadgmeilt, taste, and ]deCy of tli9 

«<The«eMnl<aipeaeor4ke'VblaBMlofhatof Mloaie apiea-- 
donr. Its coTSring is handsome, the fdges of its leares sie 
gOt, and the paper to good» Mwtfng whet may bo jttstly termed 
aa'tlsjant ptaMiit'lbr one Mead to iiafee to aaoCUer, and par. 
Hontoiif ao4o«yoaB^laiiyo#geiiileaian, by vrhom the ^ter 
wtohee to be held in romembranee * " ' B at outwstd 
decorations and internal embellishments sre only of secondsry 
ooMlderatton. ITle contento which literature has supplied, are 
Of Atf gMstsr Impoitanee^i sad these, we are highly pleased to 
state, tsnd boCh in their character and bearfatf to enhanoe 
tia ndueof - the voUaue In no tneomtdmbto degree.''-J!ii- 
pttUA Magaitt^* ' > 

* *' The decidedcharaeterof tUs valuable ooUoctlon to rOUgleas ; 

but the principles assumed and enforced are chiefly thq^Be 11^^ 
aiv- colniho'n to idl Christians. The volume exhibits ttom. 
beginning to end remarksble parity of moral taste, aad (be 
editor ana publishers appear to us to be entitled to the gTatibide 
of the public."— 3foi»M<y Repotitarg, 

"W« haU tho re^appeoranoe of the *Amnlot,* andshsU 
Mloice sboJBdd we JMqiAm to make oor.Ceeble voice bo hesid so 
efeetissUr In ito secommendationastoexeiteenlaned attentlsa 
to Ita mesii».**—Bt^ptist Magaxine. 


In polntof Utaranr oxMM«M»b aadaspeclaQy wUh 


to-ita embelliiitimwm^ Ikft 'Anivtot' ^mWM a il«d4ml pt». 

gressive ImproTemeMt, mod cannot fall to be at leaat as acctpt- 
able a« Its fpredacasaer to that portion of tbe pabllo fiir wlwaa 
iiae it ia principally Intanded."— ifon^jf Aeofaur. 

" Two of the pnblicationa which are issued at this season of 
the year, aad which serve as a^eeabie presents to the yonng 
of both sexes, hare fallen under our notice $ and we should bi 
puzzled if we were called upon to decide which is best. Acker- 
aiann*8 ' Forget me not* contains some clever articles in prose 
dnd verse, and some admirable engravings. The ' Amulet/ if 
•omething inferior in Its written matter, must, we thinlc, hava 
&e palm, for the exquisite beauty of its prints. Two of them, 
'the Cottage GirP and ^ the Children of Raveadale,' are equal 
Co the best effbrts of Shatpe and Landseer j thef are alone 
worth the price of the volume.'* — TimeM, 

** Among the variovs graceftil little remembrancers, of die pre. 
MOt year, the * Amnlet'holds deservedly a high rank, whether we 
tosOc to the delteate richness of its numerous engravings, or the 
literary merit of Its contributors. ■ We can conceive tbere- 

fbve no new-year's present so acceptable to all classes, whether 
llieyoung or the old, as this little volume.'* — Sun, 

" The peculiar feature of the ' Amulet,' which excludes everf 
thing not having some decided moral or religions tendency, 
might seem at first sight to cramp the editor in bis endeavours 
to combine vailety with so admirable an oliject. But what- 
ever mav have been his difficulties In that reapeot, he has cer- 
tainly triumphed over them with complete success. If the li- 
terary matter of the * Amulet* is excellent in almost every de- 
partment, its erabelllshmeBts of art are net less entitied to admi- 
ration.'.^— Aforai^ Pot/. 

^t*» A large Print of the " School-boy," 
eBgraved by J. Romoey, from a Paiutin^by 
R. Farrier^ has been just published. This 
Print 16 from Che same Picture^ and engraved 
by the same Artist^ as the one contained in the 
" Amulet/* — vide page 249. 







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