Through crystal water, smoothly as a Hawk, A Grecian Temple rising from the Deep.»> «Turn where we may,» said I, « we cannot err They ceased not to surround us; change of place, And unsought pleasures springing up by chance; The same should be continued to its close. One spirit animating old and young, Of the fair Isle with birch-trees fringed-and there, The beverage drawn from China's fragrant herb. -Launched from our hands, the smooth stone skimmed the lake; With shouts we roused the echoes;-stiller sounds Whose low tones reached not to the distant rocks Such product, and such pastime did the place And season yield; but as we re-embarked, Leaving, in quest of other scenes, the shore Of that wild Spot, the Solitary said In a low voice, yet careless who might hear, The fire, that burned so brightly to our wish, Where is it now? Deserted on the beach It seems extinct; nor shall the fanning breeze Revive its ashes. What care we for this, Whose ends are gained? Behold an emblem here This plaintive note disturbed not the repose We clomb a green hill's side; and as we clomb, Of the smooth lake-in compass seen:-far off, And habitations, seemingly preserved By rocks impassable and mountains huge. Soft heath this elevated spot supplied, And choice of moss-clad stones, whereon we couched The general aspect of the scene; but each While from the grassy mountain's open side <«< Eternal Spirit! universal God! Power inaccessible to human thought, Save by degrees and steps which Thou hast deigned Such as they are who in thy presence stand - Accomplish, then, their number; and conclude The sting of human nature. Spread the Law, Throughout all Lands : let every nation hear «So fare the many; and the thoughtful few, And ne'er to fail? Shall that blest day arrive Studious of mutual benefit ; and he, On us the Venerable Pastor turned His beaming eye that had been raised to Heaven, The thing that hath been as the thing that is, By priestly hands, for sacrifice, performed And full assemblage of a barbarous Host; -A Few rude Monuments of mountain-stone So wide the difference, a willing mind, Of good from evil; as if one extreme Whose love, whose counsel, whose commands have made Whom morning wakes, among sweet dews and flowers And in good works; and Him, who is endowed Of every clime, to till the lonely field, Be happy in himself!-The law of faith Be « Once,» and with mild demeanour, as he spake, With scantiest knowledge, Master of all truth Woods waving in the wind their lofty heads, This Vesper service closed, without delay, But turned not without welcome Promise given, To enfeebled Power, From this communion with uninjured Minds, NOTES. PREFACE. Page 262, col. 1. Not mine own fears, nor the prophetic Soul Of the wide world dreaming on things to come. SHAKSPEARE's Sonnets. tificial society, I have ever been ready to pay homage to the Aristocracy of Nature; under a conviction that vigorous human-heartedness is the constituent principle of true taste. It may still, however, be satisfactory to have prose testimony how far a Character, employed for purposes of imagination, is founded upon general fact. I therefore subjoin an extract from an author who had opportunities of being well acquainted with a class of men, from whom my own personal know|ledge emboldened me to draw this Portrait. « We learn from Cæsar and other Roman Writers, that the travelling merchants who frequented Gaul and other barbarous countries, either newly conquered by the Roman arms, or bordering on the Roman conquests, were ever the first to make the inhabitants of those countries familiarly acquainted with the Roman modes of life, and to inspire them with an inclination to follow the Roman fashions, and to enjoy Roman conveniences. In North America, travelling merchants from the Setlements have done and continue to do much more towards civilizing the Indian natives, than all the Missionaries, Papist or Protestant, who have ever been sent among them. As « It is farther to be observed, for the credit of this most useful class of meu, that they commonly contribute, by their personal manners, no less than by the sale of their wares, to the refinement of the people among whom they travel. Their dealings form them to great quickness of wit and acuteness of judgment. Having constant occasion to recommend themselves and their goods, they acquire habits of the most obliging attention, and the most insinuating address. As in their peregrinations they have opportunity of contemplating the manners of various men and various Cities, they become eminently skilled in the knowledge of the world. they wander, each alone, through thinly-inhabited districts, they form habits of reflection and of sublime contemplation. With all these qualifications, no wonder, that they should often be, in remote parts of the country, the best mirrors of fashion, and censors of manners; and should contribute much to polish the roughness, and soften the rusticity of our peasantry. It is not more than twenty or thirty years, since a young man going from any part of Scotland to England, on purpose to carry the pack, was considered, as going to lead the life, and acquire the Fortune, of a Gentleman. When, after twenty years' absence, in that honourable line of employment, he returned with his acquisitions to his native country, he was regarded as a Gentleman to all intents and purposes.» HERON'S Journey in Scotland, Vol. i, p. 89. Lost in unsearchable Eternity! Since this paragraph was composed, I have read with so much pleasure, in Burnet's Theory of the Earth, a passage expressing correspondent sentiments, excited by objects of a similar nature, that I cannot forbear to transcribe it. « Siquod verò Natura nobis dedit spectaculum, in hâc tellure, verè gratum, et philosopho dignum, id semel mihi contigisse arbitror; cum ex celsissimà rupe speculabundus ad oram maris Mediterranei, hinc æquor cæruleum, illiuc tractus Alpiuos prospexi; nihil quidem magis dispar aut dissimile, nec in suo genere, magis At the risk of giving a shock to the prejudices of ar- egregium et singulare. Hoc theatrum ego facilè præ Page 265, col. 1. ——— Much did he see of Men. tulerim Romanis cunctis, Græcisve; atque id quod na- | His emotions of tenderness keep pace with his elevation tura hic spectandum exhibet, scenicis ludis omnibus, of sentiment ; for he says, 'These were made by a good aut amphitheatri certaminibus. Nihil hic elegans aut Being, who, unsought by me, placed me here to enjoy venustum, sed ingens et magnificum, et quod placet them.' He becomes at once a Child and a King. His magnitudine suâ et quâdam specie immensitatis. Hinc mind is in himself; from hence he argues, and from intuebar maris æquabilem superficiem, usque et usque hence he acts, and he argues unerringly, and acts diffusam, quantum maximùm oculorum acies ferri po- magisterially: His mind in himself is also in his God; tuit; illinc disruptissimam terræ faciem, et vastas moles and therefore he loves, and therefore he soars. »—From | variè elevatas aut depressas, erectas, propendentes, re- the notes upon The Hurricane, a Poem, by William clinatas, coacervatas, omni situ inæquali et turbido. Gilbert. Placuit, ex hâc parte, Naturæ unitas et simplicitas, et inexhausta quædam planities; ex altera, multiformis confusio magnorum corporum, et insauæ rerum strages: quas cùm intuebar, non urbis alicujus aut oppidi, sed confracti mundi rudera, ante oculos habere mihi visus sum. << In singulis ferè montibus erat aliquid insolens et mirabile, sed præ cæteris mihi placebat illa, quà sedebam, rupes; erat maxima et altissima, et quà terram respiciebat, molliori ascensu altitudinem suam dissimulabat: quà verò mare, horrendum præceps, et quasi ad perpendiculum facta, instar parietis. Prætereà facies illa marina adeò erat lævis ac uniformis (quod in rupibus aliquando observare licet) ac si scissa fuisset à summo ad imum, in illo plano; vel terræ motu aliquo, aut fulmine, divulsa. The Reader, I am sure, will thank me for the above Quotation, which, though from a strange book, is one of the finest passages of modern English prose. Page 286, col. 2. 'T is, by comparison, an easy task See, upon this subject, Baxter's most interesting review of his own opinions and sentiments in the decline of life. It may be found (lately reprinted) in Dr Wordsworth's Ecclesiastical Biography. Page 287, col. 1. Alas! the endowment of immortal Power, This subject is treated at length in the Ode at page <«<lma pars rupis erat cava, recessusque habuit, et | 249. saxcos specus, euntes in vacuum montem; sive naturâ pridem factos, sive exesos mari, et undarum crebris ictibus: In hos enim cum impetu ruebant et fragore, æstuantis maris fluctus; quos iterum spumantes reddidit antrum, et quasi ab imo ventre evomuit. << Dextrum latus montis erat præruptum, aspero saxo et nuda caute; sinistrum non adeò neglexerat Natura, arboribus utpote ornatum : et prope pedem montis rivus limpidæ aquæ prorupit ; qui cùm vicinam vallem irrigaverat, lento motu serpens, et per varios meandros, quasi ad protrahendam vitam, in maguo mari absorptus subito periit. Denique in summo vertice promontorii, commodè eminebat saxum, cui insidebam contemplabundus. Vale augusta sedes, Rege digna: Augusta rupes, semper mihi memoranda!» Pag. 89. Telluris Theoria sacra, etc. Editio secunda. Page 284, col. 2. Of Mississippi, or that Northern Stream. "A man is supposed to improve by going out into the World, by visiting London. Artificial man does; he extends with his sphere; but, alas! that sphere is microscopic: it is formed of minutiæ, and he surrenders his genuine vision to the artist, in order to embrace it in his ken. His bodily senses grow acute, even to barren and inhuman pruriency; while his mental become proportionally obtuse. The reverse is the Man of Mind: He who is placed in the sphere of Nature and of God, might be a mock at Tattersall's and Brookes's; and a sneer at St James's: he would certainly be swallowed alive by the first Pizarro that crossed him :-But when he walks along the River of Amazons; when he rests his eye on the unrivalled Andes; when he measures the long and watered Savannah; or contemplates from a sudden Promontory, the distant, vast Pacific-and feels himself a Freeman in this vast Theatre, and commanding each ready produced fruit of this wilderness, and each progeny of this stream-His exaltation is not less than Imperial. He is as gentle, too, as he is great : Page 288, col. 1. Knowing the heart of Man is set to be, etc. The Nor is he moved with all the thunder-cracks Although his heart (so near allied to carth) Yet seeing thus the course of things must run, And whilst distraught Ambition compasses, Thus, Lady, fares that Man that hath prepared To plant your heart; and set your thoughts as near Ir needs scarcely be said, that an Epitaph presupposes a Monument, upon which it is to be engraven. Almost all Nations have wished that certain exterual signs should point out the places where their Dead are interred. Among savage Tribes unacquainted with Letters, this has mostly been done either by rude stones placed near the Graves, or by Mounds of earth raised over them. This custom proceeded obviously from a twofold desire, first, to guard the remains of the deceased from irreverent approach or from savage violation and, secondly, to preserve their memory. | « Never any,» says Camden, « neglected burial but some savage Nations; as the Bactrians, which cast F their dead to the dogs; some varlet Philosophers, as Diogenes, who desired to be devoured of fishes; some dissolute Courtiers, as Mæcenas, who was wont to say, Non tumulum curo; sepelit natura relictos. I'm careless of a Grave:-Nature her dead will save. ing of Kind towards Kind, could not have produced it. The Dog or Horse perishes in the field, or in the stall, by the side of his companions, and is incapable of anticipating the sorrow with which his surrounding Associates shall bemoan his death, or pine for his loss; he cannot pre-conceive this regret, he can form no thought of it; and therefore cannot possibly have a desire to leave such regret or remembrance behind him. Add to the principle of love, which exists in the inferior animals, the faculty of reason which exists in Man alone; will the conjunction of these account for the desire? Doubtless it is a necessary consequence of this conjunction; yet not I think as a direct result, but only to be come at through an intermediate thought, viz. That of an intimation or assurance within us, that some part of our nature is imperishable. At least the precedence, in order of birth, of one feeling to the other, is unquestionable. If we look back upon the days of childhood, we shall find that the time is not in remembrance when, with respect to our own individua Being, the mind was without this assurance; whereas, the wish to be remembered by our Friends or Kindred after Death, or even in Absence, is, as we shall discover, a sensation that does not form itself till the social feelings have been developed, and the Reason has connected itself with a wide range of objects. Forlorn, and cut off from communication with the best part of his nature, must that Man be, who should derive the sense of immortality, as it exists in the mind of a Child, from the same unthinking gaiety or liveliness of animal Spirits with which the Lamb in the meadow, or any other irrational Creature, is endowed; who should ascribe it, in short, to blank ignorance in the Child; to an inability arising from the imperfect state of his faculties to come, in any point of his being, into contact with a notion of Death; or to an unreflecting acquiescence in what had been instilled into him! Hlas such an unfolder of the mysteries of Nature, though he may have forgotten his former self, ever noticed the early, obstinate, and unappeasable inquisitiveness of Children upon the subject of origination? This single fact proves outwardly the monstrousness of those suppositions: for, if we had no direct external testimony that the minds of very young Children meditate feelingly upon Death and Immortality, these inquiries, which we all know they are perpetually making concerning the whence, do necessarily include correspondent habits of interrogation concerning the whither. Origin and tendency are notions inseparably co-relative. Never did a Child stand by the side of a running Stream, pondering within himself what power was the feeder of the perpetual current, from what never-wearied sources the body of As soon as Nations had learned the use of letters, Epitaphs were inscribed upon these Monuments; in order that their intention might be more surely and adequately fulfilled. I have derived Monuments and Epitaphs from two sources of feeling but these do in fact resolve themselves into one. The invention of Epitaphs, Weever, in his Discourse of Funeral Monu-water was supplied, but he must have been inevitably ments, says rightly, proceeded from the presage or fore-feeling of Immortality, implanted in all men naIturally, and is referred to the Scholars of Linus the Theban Poet, who flourished about the year of the World two thousand seven hundred; who first bewailed this Linus their Master, when he was slain, in doleful verses, then called of him Olina, afterwards Epitaphia, for that they were first sung at burials, after engraved upon the Sepulchres.» And, verily, without the consciousness of a principle of Immortality in the human soul, Man could never have had awakened in him the desire to live in the remembrance of his fellows: mere love, or the yearn propelled to follow this question by another: « towards what abyss is it in progress? what receptacle can contain the mighty influx? » And the spirit of the answer must have been, though the word might be Sea or Ocean, accompanied perhaps with an image gathered from a Map, or from the real object in Nature-these might have been the letter, but the spirit of the answer must have been as inevitably,-a receptacle without bounds or dimensions;-nothing less than infinity We may, then, be justified in asserting, that the sense of Immortality, if not a co-existent and twin birth with Reason, is among the earliest of her Offspring: and we may further assert, that from these conjoined, and un |