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Through bursting tears of joy he smiled, Who, in this atmosphere of death,
And brilliant hues of heaven.
“Oh, shall not He who keeps thee green, “ Our drooping faith, revived by sight, Here in the waste, unknown, unseen- Anew her pinion plumes for flight, Thy fellow exile save ?
New hope distends the breast, He who commands the dew to feed With joy we mount on eagle wing, Thy gentle flower, can surely lead
With bolder tone our anthem sing, Me from a scorching grave!'
And seek the pilgrim's rest. “ The heaven-sent plant new hope inspi.
R. M.Ch-, Larbert. The clerred
gyman? The verses are beautiful-New courage all his bosom fired,
we wrote some ourselves many years And bore him safe along ;
ago on the same incident-but not Till with the evening's cooling shade nearly so good as these—and they He slept within the verdant glade, have utterly faded from our memory Lulled by the negro's song.
-all but some broken images—two
or three lines--and here and there a “ Thus, we in this world's wilderness,
few floating words. Where sin and sorrow-guilt-distress It is time we were going—but we Seem undisturbed to reign
wish to hear how thy voice sounds, May faint because we feel alone,
Christian, when it reads. Read these With none to strike our favourite tone,
lines—they are by the same writerAnd join our homeward strain.
first “into yoursel"-and then to us.
They contain mysteries above your " Yet, often in the bleakest wild of this dark world, some heaven-born comprehension — and ours - and all child,
men's ; for they speak of the infinite Expectant of the skies,
goodness and mercy of God -- but Amid the low and vicious crowd,
though thou hast committed in thy Or in the dwellings of the proud,
short life no sins-or but small-toMeets our admiring eyes.
wards thy fellow - creatures – how
couldst thou?-thou knowest we are all “ From gazing on the tender flower, sinful-in His eyes-and thou knowWe lift our eye to him whose power est on whose merits is the reliance of Hath all its beauty given ;
our hope of Heaven.
“ I ost read with pleasure, to soothe or engage,
“ Like tears from the daughters of Zion that roll,
“ But when free grace awoke me by light from on high,
“ My terrors all vanished before the sweet name ;
“ Jehovah Tsidkēnu, my treasure and boast,
In Thee I shall conquer, by flood and by field,
Jehovah Tsidkēnu my death-song shall be." Three minutes from seven by your blue eyes is written not only his nahouse clock-she gives a clear warn- ture, but miraculously, in German ing—and three minutes from seven by text, his very name, Christopher North. our watch-rather curious their coinci. Mrs Gentle was the first to discover dence to such a nicety-and when she it; though we remember having been has struck-we must take up our staff asked more than once in our youth by and go. Thank thee, bonnie Christian, an alarmed virgin on whom we happenwe had forgot our wallet. There, in ed at the time to be looking tender, “ if with the bannocks and the ham and we were aware that there was some. the eggs-that chicken is really too thing preternatural in our eyes ?” bad, friends-you must take us for a Christopher is conspicuous in our sad glutton.
right eye, North in our left and “ Zicketty, dicketty, dock,
when we wish to be incog., we either The mouse ran up the clock ; draw their fringed curtains, or, nunThe clock struck one,
like, keep the tell-tale orbs fixed on the Down the mouse ran,
ground. Candour whispers us to con. Zicketty, dicketty, dock.”
fess, that some years ago a child was Come cinser, dear Christian, and let exhibited at sixpence with William us put this to your ear. What a pretty Wood legible in its optics—having face of wonder! 'Tis a repeater. Good been affiliated, by ocular evidence, on people—you have work to do in the a gentleman of that name, who, with hay-field let us part—God bless you his dying breath, disowned the soft im-good by-farewell.
peachment. But in that case nature Half-an-hour since we parted—and had written a vile scrawl-in ours her we cannot help being a little sad- hand is firm, and goes off with a flou. and fear we were not so kind to the old rish. people—so considerate-as we ought Our egotism accompanies us into to have been--and, perhaps, though solitude-nay, is even more life-per. pleased with us just now, they may vading there than in the hum of men. say to one another before evening that There the stocks and stones we were too merry for our years. more impressible than those we someNonsense. We were all merry to- times stumble on in human society, gether—and what's the use of wearing and moulded at our will, take what a long face, at all times, like a Me- shape we choose to give them ; the thodist minister? A Methodist minis- trees follow our footsteps, though our ter! Why, John Wesley was facete, lips be mute, and we have left at home and Whitfield humorous-yet were our fiddle—more potent we in our retheir hearts fountains of tears--and ality than the fabled Orpheus. Be ours is not a rock-if it be, 'tis the hushed, ye streams, and listen unto Rock of Horeb.
Christopher! Be chained, ye clouds, It has long been well known to the and attentive unto North! And at our whole world that we are a sad egotist bidding silent the cataract on the cliff -yet our egotism, so far from being the thunder on the sky. The sea a detraction from our attraction, seems beholds us on the shore-and his one to be the very soul of it, making it huge frown transformed into a multiimpossible in nature for any reason- tudinous smile, he turns flowing affec. able being to come within its sphere, tionately towards us along the golden without being drawn by sweet com- sands, and in a fluctuating hinderance pulsion to the old wizard's heart. He of lovely foam-wreaths envelopes our is so humane! Only look at him for feet ! a few minutes, and liking becomes Proud was that pool, even now, to love_love becomes veneration. And reflect Our Image. Do you recollect all this even before he has opened his that picture in the Excursion-so lips—by the mere power of his ogles much admired by Wordsworth—of the and his temples. In his large mild Ram and the Shadow of the Ram ?
“ Thus having reached a bridge, that overarched
Oh! that the Solitary, and the Ped. half hour, far overhead up by yonder, lar, and the Poet, and the Priest and as if he meant mischief; but he will his Lady, were here to see a sight find that we are up to a trick or two, more glorious far than that illustrious and not easily to be done brown by a and visionary Ram. Two Christo- native, a Cockney of Cloud. Land, a pher Norths—as Highland chieftains long-legged awkward fellow with a -in the Royal Tartan-one burning in head like a dragon, and proud of his the air—the other in the water-two red plush, in that country called thma stationary meteors, each seeming na- der-and-lightning breeches, hot very, tive to its own element. This setting one should think, in such sultry weathe heather, that the linn on fire-this ther-but confound us if he has not a-blaze with war, that tempered into this moment stript them off, and be truce—while the Sun, astonied at the not pursuing his journey in puris naspectacle, nor knowing the refulgent turalibus-yes, as naked as the misubstance from the resplendent sha- nute he was born! dow, bids the clouds lie still in heaven, We cannot help flattering ourselves and the winds all hold their breath, -if indeed it be flattery-that though that exulting nature may be permitted no relative of his, we have a look of for a little while to enjoy the miracle the Pedlar—as he is painted by the she unawares has wrought-alas! gone hand of a great master in the aforesaid as she gazes, and gone for ever: Our Poem. bonnet has tumbled into the Pool
" A man of reverend age, and Christopher-like the Ram in the
But stout and hale, for travel unimpaired.' Excursion-stands shorn of his beams -no better worth looking at than the An hour or two ago, late Laird of Macnab.
" Here was he seen upon the cottageNow, since the truth must be told,
bench, that was but a flight of Fancy-and Recumbent in the shade, as if asleep; our apparel is more like that of a Low
An iron-pointed staff lay at his side." land Quaker than a Highland chief. 'Tis all of a snuffy brown--an excel- Again--any one who had chanced lent colour for hiding the dirt. Single- to meet us yesterday on our way to breasted our coatee--and we are in the mountains, might have said, shorts. Were our name to be imposed by our hat, it would be Sir Cloudesly
“ Him had I marked the day beforeShovel. On our back a wallet-and
alone, in our hand a pole. And thus, not
And stationed in the public way, with face
Turned to the sun then setting, while that without occasional alarm to the cattle,
staff though we hurry no man's, we go
Afforded to the figure of the man, stalking along the sward and swinging
Detained for contemplation or repose, across the stream, and leaping over
Graceful support,” &c. the quagmires—by no means unlike that extraordinary pedestrian who And again--and even more charachas been accompanying us for the last teristically
“ Plain was his garb :
A man of kindlier nature.
The rough Such as might suit a rustic sire, prepared sports For Sabbath duties; yet he was a man And teasing ways of children vexed not Whom no one could have passed without remark.
Indulgent listener was he to the tongue Active and nervous was his gait ; his limbs Of garrulous age ; nor did the sick man's And his whole figure breathed intelli
To his fraternal sympathy addressed, Time had compressed the freshness of his Obtain reluctant hearing.”
cheeks Into a narrower circle of deep red,
Who can read the following lines, and But had not tamed his eye, that under not think of Christopher North? brows,
" Birds and beasts, Shaggy and grey, had meanings, which it
And the mute fish, that glances in the brought
stream, From years of youth; whilst, like a being
And harmless reptile coiling in the sun, made
And gorgeous insect hovering in the air, Of many beings, he had wondrous skill
The fowl domestic, and the household To blend with knowledge of the years to
In his capacious mind he loved them all." Human, or such as lie beyond the grave."
True that our love of In our intellectual characters, we indulge the pleasing hope, that there The mute fish, that glances in are some striking points of resemblance, stream," on which, however, our modesty will is not incompatible with the practice not permit us to dwell—and in our
of the “ angler's silent trade," or acquirements, more particularly in with the pleasure of “ filling our panPlane and Spherical Trigonometry. niers." The Pedlar, too, we have “ While yet he lingered in the rudiments reason to know, was, like his poet and Of science, and among her simplest laws, ourselves--a craftsman, and for love His triangles— they were the stars of beat the molecatcher at busking a Heaven.
batch of May-flies. The question The silent stars ! oft did he take delight whether Lascelles himself were his To measure the altitude of some tall master at a green dragon,
crag, That is the eagle's birthplace,” &c.
“ The harmless reptile coiling in the sun,” So it was with us. Give us but a we are not so sure about, having once base and a quadrant—and when a been bit by an adder, whom, in our student in Jemmy Millar's class, we simplicity, we mistook for a slow-worm could have given you the altitude of the very day, by the by, on which we any steeple in Glasgow or the Gor- were poisoned by a dish of toadstools, bals.
by our own hand gathered for mushLike the Pedlar, in a small party of rooms. But we have long given over friends, though not proud of the ac- chasing butterflies, and feel, as the complishment, we have been prevailed Pedlar did, that they are beautiful on to give a song-" The Flowers of creatures, and that 'tiš a sin, between the Forest,"'« Roy's Wife,” or “ Auld finger and thumb, to compress their Langsyne"
mealy wings. The household dog we “ At request would sing do, indeed, dearly love, though, when Old songs, the product of his native old Surly looks suspicious, we pru
dently keep out of the reach of his A skilful distribution of sweet sounds, chain. As for “ the domestic fowl," Feeding the soul, and eagerly imbibed we breed scores every spring, solely As cool refreshing water, by the care for the delight of seeing them at their Of the industrious husbandman, diffused Through a parch'd meadow-field in time of drought."
“ Among the rural villages and farms ;'' Our natural disposition, too, is as and though game to the back-bone, amiable as that of the “ Vagrant Mer they are all allowed to wear the spurs chant."
nature gave them—to crow unclipped, " And surely never did there live on challenging but the echoes ; nor is earth
the sward, like the sod, ever reddened
with their heroic blood, for hateful to And the influence of such education our ears the war-song,
and occupation among such natural “ Welcome to your gory bed,
objects, Wordsworth expounds in Or to victory!”
some as fine poetry as ever issued
from the cells of philosophic thought, 'Tis our way to pass from gay to grave matter, and often from a jocular
“ So the foundations of his mind were to a serious view of the same subject
laid." it being natural to us—and having be. The boy had small need of books, come habitual from writing occasionally in Blackwood's Magazine. All the
“For many a tale world knows our admiration of Words Traditionary, round the mountains hung, worth, and admits that we have done And many a legend, peopling the dark almost as much as Jeffrey to make
woods, his poetry popular among the “ edu- Nourished Imagination in her growth, cated circles." But we are not a na
And gave the mind that apprehensive tion of idolators, and worship neither
power graven image nor man that is born By which she is made quick to recognise
The moral properties and scope of things." of a woman. We may seem to have treated the Pedlar with insufficient But in the Manse there were books-respect in that playful parallel be- and he read tween him and ourselves; but there “ Whate'er the minister's old shelf supyou are wrong again, for we desire
plied, thereby to do him honour. We wish The life and death of martyrs, who susnow to say a few words on the wis. tained, dom of making such a personage the With will inflexible, those fearful pangs, chief character in the Excursion. Triumphantly displayed in records left
He is described as endowed by na- Of persecution and the Covenant." ture with a great intellect, a noble imagination, a profound soul, and a
Can you not believe that by the
time he was as old as you were when tender heart. It will not be said that nature keeps these her noblest gifts you used to ride to the races on a for human beings born in this or that poney, by the side of your sire the condition of life : she gives them to squire, this boy was your equal in her favourites—for so, in the highest tutor all to yourself, and were then a
knowledge, though you had a private befall; and not unfrequently, in an promising lad, as indeed you are now obscure place, of one of the Fortu- tury: True, as yet he “ had small
after the lapse of a quarter of a cen
Latin, and no Greek ;" but the ele. “ The fulgent head ments of these languages are best Star-bright appears.”
learned-trust us—by slow degreesWordsworth appropriately places the by the mind rejoicing in the conbirth of such a being in a humble sciousness of its growing faculties-dwelling in the Highlands of Scot- during leisure hours from other land.
studies—as they were by the Athol
adolescent. A Scholar-in your sense Among the hills of Athol he was born ; of the word—he might not be called, Where on a small hereditary farm,
even when he had reached his seAn unproductive slip of barren ground,
venteenth year, though probably he His parents, with their numerous offspring would have puzzled you in Livy and
dwelt ; A virtuous household, though exceeding he read much—the less the better for
Virgil - nor of English poetry had poor.”
such a mind-at that age, and in that His childhood was nurtured at home condition for in Christian love and truth—and ac
" Accumulated feelings pressed his heart quired other knowledge at a winter school-for in summer he“ tended
With still increasing weight; he was o'er
powered cattle on the hill"
By nature, by the turbulence subdued " That stood
Of his own mind, by mystery and hope, Sole building on a mountain's dreary And the first virgin passion of a soul edge."
Communing with the glorious Universe."