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Ah! who comes next? a Doctor !_fear. But, lo, while thus I step from door 10 ful leech !
door I dare not look upon thy handsome - In search of food for thought-a sin.. door;
gular way, It seems to me the gate of death-the The death-like calmness of the streets is beach
· o'er, From which I hear the furious billow's And solitude, like slumber, melts away ; roar .
For folks, like owls, are peeping from the Their awful threatning, as they come to
To see what clouds appear, what way the My spirit down to the eternal deep. .
wind blows. Pray why do Doctors clothe themselves But these are poor folks who the devil in sable,
cares And at their entrance frighten ner . For them ?--they are unworthy of my vous people,
numbers; Who, trembling, think, even at a sump- 'Tis he, and he alone, my song that shares, tuous table,
Who ona downy pillow softly slumbers; of the dark church-yard, and the grey For poets always were a venal crew, church steeple ?
And what's the cause I should not be so Their garment should be green, for it be... too?
speaks Bright suns, and brilliant flowers, and Ay, these are poor folks- let them toil blooming cheeks.
Till sweat shall burst from every burn. Sleep on, dear Doctor! if thou still art
ing pore, sleeping,
To keep themselves and little babes alive, · And dream_0 dream most hideously To keep themselves alive_but nothing • of those
more ; Deserted creatures thou hast given to For they are link'd unto the brute crcation, weeping,
But do not seem 80 well to know their By giving others an unconscious doze!
station. O dream! and when thou. wakest in the morning,
The ass is never fond of costly food, i Fix on thy heart the visionary warning. The dog desires not any splendid garb,
The horse ne'er dances in his happiest But let me look again-O Mistress Blank!
mood, I know she has a very lovely daughter;
Except, perhaps, some dandy's pranEven like a wild flower growing on a bank,
cing barb; That dips its fringes in the passing But they, impertinent wretches ! must
water, She bathes her spirit in her mother's sor. The art of dancing, dainty food, and dress,
rows, And from her tears redoubled beauty And books, too-books! for they must borrows.
learn to think, Sleep on, sweet girl ! and in thy visions And speak, and act, even like a high. meet
. born creature ; With him thou lovest, for a heart like And thus-presumption !-try to break thine,
the link So exquisitely tender, cannot beat
Of rank ordain'd by all-creative Nature. In utter loneliness, it must entwine What! make the pig a post-horse, and a Its pliant feelingsround some favourite one,
cow As ivy tendrils up the oak-tree run. A lap-dog for a lady! tell me how. I O may'st thou meet him in thy slumbers Go, shut them up in some dark cellar, now,
there Beneath some hawthorn, where the To spin and weave, to hackle and to
streamlet flows, And from him hear the sweet and solemn Although they never breathe the blessed
vow That gives thy spirit comfort and re. Although the sun his face may never pose
shew ; That speaks of all thy pleasures yet to What right have they to leisure or enjoycome,
ment? When thou shalt dwell in his connubial What ! damn them ! let them stick te home.
Are these my sentiments ? no, they are A valley travers'd by the plough and not;
cart, They are the thoughts, however, of a A green hill pastur'd by the sheep and class
COW ; Of weak Aristocrats, to whose blest lot Yea, blessed be his art! without his toil, Have fall’n large property,-a face of We might, like rabbits, burrow in the brass,
soil. A heart of adamant, a giddy brain,
There hies the joiner, with his many tools; Resembling much a steeple's whirling 'Though hard his labour, how the lad vane.
is laughing! My sentiments! no, I abjure them ; let And still his merriment of heart ne'er My fingers wither as they sweep the
Though hastening on his way to make Of my wild harp, and may my tongue be
a coffin met
To some poor wretch; well, coffins must With everlasting silence, when I sing
be made, Folly, though glitt'ring in a golden vest, And sextons ply the malock and the Or 'worth despise, in homely garments spade. drest.
Now all the world is busy, the world Despise the poor ! pray, what was Robert Burns ?
For thou, Dunedin, art the world to
me: A bard whose high enthusiastic lyre Not even the mightiest of his nation
The scavenger toils with his besom tall;
The dust-cart bell tolls with peculiar spurns, To which the mightiest may not even
The chamber-maid is busy with her mop; aspire : Pray, what was William Tell? a spirit
The sweep is busy on the chimney-top. high,
But now behold the baker with his rolls, That rous d'a nation for its liberty.
And now behold the milk-girl with her Despise the poor ! no, I respect them; lo;
pails, What useful creatures swarm on every
And, hark ! Saint Giles the merry eighth hand,
hour tolls, On to their occupations as they go,
. And, hark ! the cook-maid at the lowWith cheerful faces, and with spirits
For breakfast is a-coming, eggs and ham, bland; And still the rich are sleeping on and
And all that Scottish people love to cram. on,
The drones will soon be up, both young The hive of mortals never kill a drone !
and old, There goes the sutor to his little stall, Both male and female, beautiful and That scarce could hold a hen and twelve ... ugly, young chickens ;
Who, while poor wretches bear the heat And yet he looks how happy-like withal ! and cold, The world may scorn him, but his And weariness and hunger, fare most heart ne'er sickens ;
snugly : He holds his blacken'd thumb a brighter How sweet-save 'mong the bees who laurel
fall upon Than that for which contending tyrants Such idle creatures-'tis to be a drone ! quarrel.
Why speak I thus ? for almost every There hies the weaver to his web and
Has left this busy and tumultuous hive, And whistles cheerily as on he hies; And in their castles wild of mountainAnd though he tenant but a garret-room,
stone, His busy hand each family want sup. Dream of the day when they shall noplies :
bly strive 'Tis not the case with many a luckless Who shall the grouse most numerous defellow
stroy ; Who weaves bis verse in place of thin Lord! who can say that drones have no prunello.
employ? There goes the mason, blessed be his art ! But hunger, as Miss Edgeworth often says, Without him, what were even Dune. Obtrudes upon our transport and our din now ?
And even though lit by Fancy's heav'nly And scavengers, and ashes-carts, and rays
dreams, To wander far beyond this world be. And maids, and advocates, and scribes, low
and boors, In spiritual existence, we must come Must leave my fight, on this delightful O, shocking exigence ! and dine at home.
morn, And even when we luxuriate in our grief,
And, like a horse, regale myself with
corn". When parted kindred leave us in the gloom,
And now, my reader, though thou ne'er When no sweet hope shines to our heart's
may'st see relief,
My countenance, nor shake my hand, And comfort seems but for us in the
nor hear tomb;
An accent from my lips, yet I to thee Yet hunger comes amid the mental strife, Shall sing again, if that my strains be And makes us cling to this terrestrial life. .
And so, to quote from John Home's traSo I, though meditating lofty themes,
gic song, Even chimney-sweeps, and cinder. “Farewell a while, I will not leave you wives, and doors,
BARCLAY DRUMMOND; OR, MEMOIRS OF AN EXILE. Few men, not even excepting " wasted her sweetness on the de. exiles, are so destitute of self-love as sart air ;" nor would the grey hairs to believe that no one takes an inter of my virtuous and venerable parents est in their fate, or would not be have descended in sorrow to the moved by the story of their wrongs grave. But there is a tide in the afand misfortunes. I am not superior fairs of men. Taken at the summit, to the influence of a feeling so gene. it leads on to fortune ; but woe be ral, nor am I willing that my bones to him who is caught in the strength should moulder in a foreign land, of its ebbing current! In vain he unhallowed by a single tear of re- struggles with the destiny that hurgret; or that, when my shattered, ries him on. An accident, next to war-worn frame is consigned to the a miracle, may save him from utter earth, my name should altogether and final destruction; he may not perish in the memory of those a. be engulphed at the moment when mong whom I spent the ipnocent he gives up all for lost, and resigns and happy days of my youth. I himself to the unutterable agonies of have, therefore, resolved to commit despair ; in his death-grasp he may to writing a few particulars of my catch some reed of momentary safety,
strange eventful history," in the and hope, which had fled, may rehope that, when I am no more, they turn; but the illusion is fleeting and will fall into some friendly hand, unreal; his doom is written, his by whom they will be conveyed to destiny is sealed, his cup is mingled her (if she yet lives) whose name and he must drain it to the dregs. will appear at the close of this narra. Call it by what name you will, tive, and who, if time and chance, there is a presiding influence which which happen to all, have not cooled all men, in all their actions, and even a heart that once glowed with every in all their thoughts, obey. Unconpure and generous affection, will scious of its existence in individual nardly refuse a tear to the memory actions or volitions, we discover it of himn she once loved with all the plainly and undeniably in the genefervent and uncalculating sincerity ral result; just as we determine the of youthful enthusiasm. Had the progress of the index of the chronoday shone as the morning dawned, meter, or of the shadow on the dialand had the early promise of my life plate. Every thing tends to confirm not been belied by the subsequent this view of human actions, and, stern reality, my Lousia would not, by consequence, of human affairs. self-devoted and self-sacrificed, have Things apparently the most anoma
• Denovan's Roasted Corn.
lous, observe a general law; the pro- impetuosity the forces of his eneportion between the numbers of the mies, “and the last single captive to sexes, for example. Is the mind of millions in war,” to pronounce an man an exception to a rule to which unavailing requiescat in pace to his no other exception has yet been dis far-distant ashes, and to atone for covered? If it be material, as some the irreverence of dragging his name would have us believe, then it must into an idle page, by this passing triacknowledge the laws to which mat- bute to a name that can never die. ter is subjected ; if it be immaterial, I have the honour to be descendwhich is negative, or spiritual, which, ed from a collateral branch of an by the received usage of language, ancient and honourable family, disgives us an idea of something differ- tinguished alike for the part it acted ent from matter, then it must be un- in public affairs while Scotland was der the influence of the laws peculiar an independent kingdoin, and for to that something to which it belongs. having sacrificed its all to re-conquer But whatever acts according to a ge- what the Union had destroyed. The neral rule or law, acts necessarily; cruel proscription, which drove so in other words, its actions are so many brave men into exile, and remany effects of causes, which, whe- duced their families to want and begther known or unknown, must have gary, deprived me also of the little an existence. Admit that we cannot patrimony to which I should otherdetermine the nature of those causes : wise have succeeded. It therefore what then? We cannot define in became necessary that I should be what gravitation consists, but who brought up to some profession; and, doubts its existence? We are in for reasons which I have never been utter ignorance of the power which altogether able to comprehend, the affects the magnet, as we are of the church was fixed upon. With a view affinity which subsists between that to this, I was, at the age of sixteen, power, and electricity, galvanism, sent to study at St. Andrew's. Beand light; but the affinity itself ing naturally of a contemplative and is matter of observation. It is just studious, though, at the same time, So with human actions and human ardent and enthusiastic disposition, affairs. There is only one course my progress here was such as to give which they can take, and that course entire satisfaction to my masters, and they pursue. Look to the career of to fill my father, who literally doNapoleon : examine the circumstan- ted on me, with the utmost exultaces which contributed to his rise, and tion. Every letter he received conthose which brought about and acce- tained some eulogy on his son, and lerated his fall. Being what he was added to the joy of the old man's could he have acted otherwise than heart; while his kindness to me, alhe did, or experienced a different ways somewhat excessive, increased fate? I hold that he could not. Like in a ten-fold degree, in conscquence Hannibal, he reached the highest of the diligence and success with pinnacle of military glory; like him, which I prosecuted my studies. My he tasted the bitterness of disaster wants were liberally supplied, my and defeat; like him, also, he fell a wishes anticipated ; and had I been victim to the inextinguishable hatred apt to give way to extravagance, I of an enemy, who, though victorious, was not without the temptation to do trembled at the terrors of his name. so. No kind or form of dissipation, That master-spirit, which so long however, had any charms for me. I held the world in awe, is now quench. have, all my life, had a thorough ed; but he obeyed his destiny, and contempt for persons who find any future ages will find that he has not gratification in riot and intemperlived in vain. It may perhaps be ance; and I was yet happily a stranforgiven to one, who has seen him ger to those vices, in the indulgence in the court, and in the camp, in of which fortunes may be squanderbattle, in victory, in retreat,--at the ed, without impairing the health or head of his invincible legions (invin- ruining the constitution. Besides, cible, I say, because they were over- what money I received from my fathrown by the hand, not of man, but ther I considered a sacred trust, set God) bearing down with irresistible apart for a particular purpose I knew the good man had stinted him- profession which I could no longer self of many of the little comforts to pursue without infamy and disho. which, from his youth up, he had nour. I am told, that every church been accustomed, in order to meet contains many secret infidels in her the expenditure of my education; bosom ; but this I am inclined to rewhile the unsuspecting and unlimit- gard as a base and malicious calum ed confidence he reposed in me, the ny. The man who, with sentiments care with which he constantly avoide and opinions akin to those which, at ed the least allusion to pecuniary the period in question, unhappily took matters, even when I sought for op- such firm hold of iny mind, continues portunities to render him an account in a profession which obliges him of my disbursements, and the gene- every moment to give the lie to his ral delicacy of his conduct in con- own heart, and obtrudes the conviccealing from me the difficulties he tion of systematic perjury and hypohad to contend with in raising, at the crisy, is as great a monster in the commencement of every session, the moral world, as centaurs, hippogriffs, necessary supplies, formed altogether and hybrids, are in the natural ; and so powerful an appeal to every ho- I am disposed to reject, with equal nourable and manly principle in my conviction, the existence of both. nature, that I should have regarded Now, however, that I have returned myself as the veriest wretch that ever “ to the better way,” and that the lived, had I suffered myself to sin dark cloud which once settled over my against so much goodness.
mind has been, in a great measure, Having completed my course of dispelled, I can declare, with perfect philosophy, I entered, as a matter of sincerity, that the doubt which made course, on the study of theology; and shipwreck of my faith was involunseeing my father bent on transform- tary ; that it bore in upon my mind ing me into a parson, I gave as much in consequence of an intellectual in. attention to the subject as I possibly firmity, of which I am intensely concould command, and, by tasking my- scious, though I cannot at this moself to a regular course and quantum ment give it a name ; and that, had of reading, endeavoured to acquire the secret of my heart been known, a competent knowledge of the end, even to the most stern and orthodox less controversies in which every believer, he would have considered part of scholastic divinity is unhap. me as an object of pity rather than pily involved. By a rigid prosecu- of blame, and as the victim of a mortion of this scheme, I hoped at once bid affection of mind, incompatible to remove some ugly doubts which with moral responsibility, had long ere this taken possession My resolution was, as I have alof my mind in regard to certain ready said, taken to communicate parts of the Christian system, and to the altered state of my opinions to conquer the repugnance I felt, both my father. The discovery, I well to the study itself, and to the profes- knew, would come upon him like a sion for which it was to qualify. My clap of thunder, and I trembled for efforts were, however, vain ; I found the consequences which might ensue myself entangled in the mazes of a from the shock he would receive. labyrinth through which I could Though a staunch Jacobite, he was find no thread to guide my steps. also warmly attached to the PresbyThe darkness of scepticism thicken- terian religion ; two things which ed fast around my head. In such a may seem incompatible to some mostate of painful bewilderment, the dern Tories. The fact was, however, mind, oppressed and sinking under the his Jacobitism was of a mild and exhaustion of uncertainty, has only modified kind. No man was more two resources-infidelity; or an in- alive than he to the probable danfallible church. I chose the former; gers which might have resulted to and, from that moment, resolved, religion, had the family of Stuart that I would avail myself of the very re-ascended the throne; but, then, earliest opportunity to communicate he was willing to run all hazards, to my father the change which had and trust to the force of circumstantaken place in my sentiments, and to ces and the spirit of the age for ensuadjure him to suffer me to abandon a ring the necessary guarantees, in or