is doubtful, whether a copy either of his or Donne's poems will be extant at the close of the nineteenth century, if nature, united with a correct → and elegant taste, continue to be cultivated and progressively improved. At present, indeed, we have so many schools of poetry, so many heresies in matters of taste, that little can be said with certainty with regard to the future; but if false taste, and arbitrary notions of poetic beauty were once exploded, the works of Donne, Clieveland, and their metaphysical contemporaries, would soon glide into oblivion. Their names, no doubt, will travel down to posterity, while antiquarian research continues to hoard up the useless

Iumber of ancient times. But if it ever becomes popular to reject whatver is not stamped with the impress of native excellence, if it ever be deemed wise not to encumber, the mind with useless knowledge, and to pervert the taste by the perusal of false models, we have no hesitation in prophesying the fate of their works. The following lines from Clieveland will shew how exactly his genius and manner correspond with those of Donne and Cowley..

To Julia, to expedite her Marriage. Think but how soon the market fails; Your sex lives faster than the males; Now since you bear a date so shorty 1. Live double for't. How can thy fortress ever stand, If it be not manned ? ;

The siege so gains upon the place, Thou'lt find the trenches in thy face.

As a description of his misery.

Perhaps it would be wrong to conclude, that Clieveland felt no real sorrow for the loss of his friend; but if the greatest scribbler of the present day wrote such lines, they would be deemed an impious mockery of the dead. It may be safely asserted, that many poets of our own time, edition, and who are never more whose works never pass beyond one

destined to be heard of in the lists of fame, are not merely superior to Donne and Cowley, but possess merit which would become the theme and the admiration of future ages, had they lived at the same time.

How often are persons led to detract from the merit of others, by a feeling of competition, of which they are wholly unconscious." I can have no envious motive for undervaluing Selina's accomplishments, because I have no pretensions to accomplishments myself," says Lavinia; "therefore we come into no competition.""As I do not sing, I cannot be envious of Leander's singing," cries Sophia," because we come into no competition." Certainly they come into no particular competition, but there is a general one, which answers the same purpose, and excites equal envy: namely, competition for notice. While Selina is displaying her accomplishments, Lavinia obtains no notice. While Leander is singing, Sophia's powers of conversation are undesired and unvalued, and she is not attended to. To be noticed, if not admired, is the general wish; and none, however insignificant in the eyes of their acquaintances, are sufficiently so in their own as to be satisfied, while a display of the talents of others causes them to be wholly disregarded. The

person who lies, in order to conceal a weak or wicked action, is no more sure of effecting the purpose, than the slattern, who ties a clean apron over a dirty petticoat, is of concealing her untidiness-the slightest gust of wind may blow the apron aside; and the slightest cross examination may detect the lie.

The vain man is he, who values himself on the qualities and advantages which he really possesses;

the conceited man values himself on qualities which he has not, and adds poverty of intellect to arrogance of pretension.

Some one has said, and said truly, that a woman can be handsome only one way, but she can be graceful a thousand; and the French expression of la grace plus belle encore que la beauté" (grace still more beautiful than beauty), is a sort of kindred observation to this. But what is grace? Not external conformation certainly;-the finest form may be devoid of it, and the clumsiest Eur. Mag. Vol. 82.

may possess it. One definition of it is, the power of moving with ease and dignity, and with appropriate gesture; and it requires a discriminating mind to teach and to bestow this power without it, the best made man, or woman, would be no more than the well-made, well-stuffed, and well-coloured clay figure in the room of the artist; whose beauty is powerless and valueless, till the creative mind of the painter puts its limbs into graceful and appropriate attitudes.

"Before such genius all objections fly, Pritchard's genteel, and Garrick six feet high,"

says Churchill; but as "genteel" is is arbitrary over words as well as now become a vulgarism, and fashion dress, I would rather read it thus:

"Pritchard is graceful, Garrick six feet high."

If I were not withheld from lying by any better motives, I should be deterred from it, by its being contemptible, because it is so easy; nay, the very easiest thing in nature; for children and fools excel in it. Children are not conscious of the probable mischievous consequences of the disgrace of a lie, and fools regard them not. Those who are older and wiser, too weak to resist temptation to falsehood, yet too strong not to see the difficulties and dangers which surround it, are apt to betray themselves, even while committing the vice of lying; and by an involuntary blush, a snapping eye-lid, and a downcast eye, do homage to that truth, against which they are rebelling.

Though no one can deny that various evils are mingled with the blessings of existence; still, if we were to take from the catalogue of miseries those, which are merely the result of our own diseased imaginations, and the distorted or mistaken view which we take of circumstances and persons, I am convinced that the list would be astonishingly diminished.

I have often heard the cry of " the church is in danger!" and I always

P

wonder that it has stood so long for what edifice can be considered

secure arch so many

newest

are rotten?

the dunce, the idler, the spendthrift, the profligate, of whom nothing else can be made, is thought good enough for a clergyman; and he is licenced to take care of the souls of others, who has notoriously proved that he cannot take care of his own. Well may the friends of the establishment exclaim that "the church is in danger; for the traitors are within its walls, and far more formidable than all the conventicles of sectaries, and the orations of demagogues and infidels i

Enviable, indeed, are those who, when the hand of faithlessness, treachery, or death has blighted all their own prospects in this life, can delight to busy themselves in promoting the public or private welfare of their fellow-creatures. Though bankrupts themselves in happiness, by trading on commission for others, they will by that means gain in time a small capital of their own.

S

always consider the sceptic, who endeavours to deprive his companions of their religious belief, by his arguments and his eloquence, as influenced by the same motives as the fox in the fable; who having lost his tail, and feeling, the misery of the. privation, could not bear that his brethren should possess an advantage of which he was deprived; and therefore selfishly endeavoured to persuade them to cut off the their brushes in imitation of him.

Men and women of talent, who live in the country, or in a provincial town, are very apt to overrate their own abilities, and to become conceited:those who are in retirement have no one to compare themselves with, and are, therefore, ignorant of their deficiencies ;-and those who live in a country town have, generally, only pigmies to measure with, and natuturally enough, therefore, suppose themselves to be giants.

Which is the happiest, or most enviable person that being who, have ing just pretensions to fame and universal homage, is in full and unt disturbed possession of them; or that being who having possessed them, and feeling their emptiness, has chosen to resign them, and r

re

tire from the tumult of the world to the quiet of retirement? 2001A

T

There is nothing which requires so much mental courage, and so much firm principle, as to tell the strict truth, in spite of strong temptation to tell the lies of interest, of pride, and of complaisance; because no fame, no honor await the person who so does; as there is scarcely an individual in society who values spontaneous truth, or indeed any truth to tell a little fib, a white lie, is thought even meritorious on some occasions; while a strict adherence to truth on small, as well as on great points, exposes the person who so adheres to be ridiculed, if not despised, by people in general : therefore, he who can act up to his own sense of right, in defiance of ridicule and example, and also, unstimulated by aught but the whisper of conscience, is capable of what must call the most difficult moral heroism.

A man of moderate talents is always contented with himself a man of sterling talents, on the contrary, is always discontented, because he continually discovers powers, and acquirements beyond what he pos sesses thus is the balance in life kept even-and those who are the best gifted, are not the most happy.

1

How very easy, and how very common it is to become ridiculous, and a mark for petty detraction, though possessed of great personal qualities, rare talents and superior wit, unless a constant watch is kept over the vanity; and how often does one see superior men or women rendered objects of ridicule by an inferior and contemptible one, who has the power of playing them off, as it is called, and of putting the springs of their vanity, unconsciously, in motion :— when so played upon, they lose their shining and marked superiority of character, and are levelled, for the time, with the most ungifted of their companions-as the toy called the whiz-gig, however rich and handsome it may be from the outward decoration bestowed on it, when it is whirling round under the hand of ‚1⁄2 the player, loses every trace of its external beauty, and looks no better than one made of the most common materials.

་ ་

I AROSE early in the morning, and after taking a good breakfast set, out from home; I was furnished with an oaken cudgel, which I deem ed might, towards the latter end of my journey, be useful:-or the end of it was slung a small matter of provision, packed up in a handker

baow

shoulder. A good quantity of rain had fallen in the night; it was, how ever, fair when I commenced my expedition, and I wished it so to remain; for it was no pleasure to anticipate a wet day, and a journey of thirty miles on foot before me.

The morning was still and beautiful-it was at the early hour of four -I could not yet distinguish the sun, though I was sensible he had left his ocean-bed, from the beautiful streaks of colouring in the eastern sky. To express the softness, mildness, and calmness of the scenery at that hour, I cannot find adequate words; those only can conceive it who have witnessed the same. I had not proceeded more than two miles before a few drops alarmed me with apprehensions of a soaking shower, from a heavy black cloud that was slowly sailing over my head; and my fears were soon realized by a very thick descent that followed, on which I betook myself with all speed to a thatched cottage that I saw at some distance for shelter: its humble inhabitants were not yet risen; and the only shelter I could obtain was that, which the eaves of the dark brown thatch afforded:-partially screened, I there watched the progress of the shower, which alternately abated a little, then increased

be

and the feathered warblers chanting melodiously among the dripping leaves and branches of the trees; and, flitting from spray to spray, seemed to rejoice at the approach of morning. I now and then met a solitary rustic, just issuing from his cot and hastening to his labour, who interrupted my medita tions no longer than while I return? ed his friendly salutation. For two hours I proceeded on in this manner, when thinking it time for another breakfast, my former being pretty well digested; and my appetite ing sharpened by the caller air, P turned into a pot-house hard by the way side," keepit by Maggy Do naldson," noted for selling guid auld Scotch drink, a drap o'the right sort'; a house where there had been many a good splore kicked up by the de votees of the above liquor. On entering, Patty, who had cleaned up the house, and who was now busy at the kirn, left her task, and lowered the tone with which she was singing a song of Burn's, to attend me; though,while she placed an old three legged worm-eaten oak table by the side of the settle on which I had seated myself, and furnished it with a foaming jug of nut-brown, I caught the following:

ye

lad.

F

A

4

Auld Maggy, who sat by the ingle with a pipe in her mouth, now accosted me with "how far cam ye this mornin, gude man?" When I had satisfied her in this particular, she enquired, "Where I was gaun?" And when I told her I was going to visit old Andrew Gillespie, my uncle, who was supposed to be near death, she broke out, "What! Auld Andrew Gillespie, that dwells at Flinty Knowe, amang the muirs, sure he's na ill! I should amaist greet out baith my e'en if we were to tine him: there is na a mair auld farrant fallow in the kintra than honest auld Andrew Gillespie :-I kent him lang syne, and a' his kith and kin: he ne'er cam to the town but he ca't for a cog o'my nappy, for he was a cantie auld earl; shame to the rogue that would injure him in word or deed; an' I hope the tale ye hae heard is not true, an that ye'll find him hale and weel, and as cantie as ever; but if are you to Andrew Gilgaun lespie's the day, ye'll find it a lang step till't'; and sae fár's I can see, ye'll hae a wet day o't." I was much pleased with this eulogium on my relative; and I could have stayed with the auld Hostess much longer, very willingly; for I love auld Scotch songs, auld Scotch tales, and auld Scotch drink; the one of which auld Maggy was well noted for singing, the other for telling, and the other for selling;-but it was absolutely necessary I should proceed, which I did, after exhaust ing the last drops of the precious exhilirating nappy, gathering up the relics of my repast, and wishing my hostess a gude morning.

Refreshed with my rest, I now travelled on with great vigour, until another shower drove me for shelter into a blacksmith's shed;-after conversing awhile with honest Burnewin about the "wee dwarf Davie," or canny elshie of Muckelstane Muir," who sat for his picture to the author of the Popular Novels; and seeing no signs of better weather, I again set forward.

Nothing further occurred on my journey for some time, nor was the scenery

such as t to tempt me to give

a description of it: one reason, however, may be, I' was anxious to arrive at my journey's end; and the day was not such as would permit

of a minute examination of many a fine scene my course of travels, I am sensible, displayed. It was lower-b ing dark the whole atmosphere was loaded with immense watery clouds--the wind was wild and boisterous and with short intermissions the rain descended in torrents; so that I was soon thoroughly drench ed to the skin. I now stopped again for another refreshment, as I was arrived at the last inn before ascending the mountains, through which I had yet a long journey, and not one of the best roads. After leaving the inn, I began to ascend a very steep path, which leads several miles through a wild range of heathy hills, and barren moors ; and while on this part of. my journey, frequently those lines of Burn's forcibly impressed my res

collection:

"Admiring nature in her wildest grace, These northern scenes with weary feet I trace;

O'er many a winding dale and painful steep,

Th'abodes of covey'd grouse and timid sheep."

The scenery before me was majes tic and sublime; not from extent of prospect, but the height of the black hills, the depth and gloominess of the vallies, the ruggedness, barren ness and desert-like silence reigning all around the whole country was rent and tossed into mountains, sublime in barrenness; and made more particularly impressive by a thick mist, or rain fog, which sat sullen upon the summit of every hill, and obscured with its misty mantle, much of the heathy declivities; frequent ly, however, large portions of it would be detached, and driven ral pidly along the mountain-sides, by the furious breeze. 1 3 10 25 shing

The weather in a short time cleared up, and the sun broke out again in his meridian splendour. Cheered with the aspect of the sky, and the pure mountain-breeze, which had lost a good deal of its chillness in the warm sunbeams that now burst forth, I quickened my pace, and soon gained the top of the hill: I had a grand and extensive prospect of country before me for many miles. There is certainly nothing that can so powerfully affect the mind with a kind of indescribable sensation, as a view