These few words Foe Lady whispered, while we stood and gazed athered together, all, in still delight,

Nx without awe. Thence passing on, she said
like low voice to my particular ear,
'I love to hear that eloquent Old Man
Pear forth his meditations, and descant
On human life from infancy to age.

flow pure his spirit! in what vivid hues

Ha mind gives back the various forms of things,
Caught in their fairest, happiest attitude!
While he is speaking, I have power to see

Even as he sees; but when his voice hath ceased,
Then, with a sigh, sometimes I feel, as now,
That combinations so serene and bright,
Laxe those reflected in yon quiet Pool,
Cannot be lasting in a world like ours,
To great and small disturbances exposed."

More had she said- but sportive shouts were heard;
Sent from the jocund hearts of those two Boys,
Who, bearing each a basket on his arm,
Down the green field came tripping after us.
-When we had cautiously embarked, the Pair
Now for a pronder service were addrest;
But an inexorable law forbade,

And each resigned the oar which he had seized.
Woereat, with willing hand I undertook
The needful labour; grateful task! - to me
Pregnant with recollections of the time
When, on thy bosom, spacious Windermere!
A Youth, I practised this delightful art;
Tosed on the waves alone, or 'mid a crew
Of joyous comrades. - Now, the reedy marge
Cleared, with a strenuous arm I dipped the oar,
Free from obstruction; and the Boat advanced
Through crystal water, smoothly as a Hawk,
That, disentangled from the shady boughs
Of some thick wood, her place of covert, cleaves
With correspondent wings the abyss of air.
-"Observe," the Vicar said, "yon rocky Isle

-Ah! that such beauty, varying in the light
Of living nature, cannot be portrayed
By words, nor by the pencil's silent skill;
But is the property of him alone
Who hath beheld it, noted it with care,
And in his mind recorded it with love!
Suffice it, therefore, if the rural Muse
Vouchsafe sweet influence, while her Poet speaks
Of trivial occupations well devised,

And unsought pleasures springing up by chance;
As if some friendly Genius had ordained
That, as the day thus far had been enriched
By acquisition of sincere delight,

The same should be continued to its close.

One spirit animating old and young,

A gipsy fire we kindled on the shore

Of the fair Isle with birch-trees fringed-and there, Merrily seated in a ring, partook

The beverage drawn from China's fragrant herb. -Lanched from our hands, the smooth stone skimmed

the lake;

With shouts we roused the echoes;-stiller sounds The lovely Girl supplied — a simple song,

Whose low tones reached not to the distant rocks

To be repeated thence, but gently sank
Into our hearts; and charmed the peaceful flood.
Rapaciously we gathered flowery spoils
From land and water; Lilies of each hue-
Golden and white, that float upon the waves,
And court the wind; and leaves of that shy Plant,
(Her flowers were shed) the Lily of the Vale,
That loves the ground, and from the sun withholds
Her pensive beauty, from the breeze her sweets.

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,

helm,

While thitherward we bend our course; or while

We seek that other, on the western shore, -
Where the bare columns of those lofty firs,
Supporting gracefully a massy Dome
Of sombre foliage, seem to imitate
A Grecian Temple rising from the Deep."

"Turn where we may," said I, "we cannot err
In this delicious Region."-Cultured slopes,
Wd tracts of forest-ground, and scattered groves,
And mountains bare- or clothed with ancient woods,
Surrounded us; and, as we held our way
Along the level of the glassy flood,

They ceased not to surround us; change of place,
From kindred features diversely combined,
Producing change of beauty ever new.

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
Of one day's pleasure, and all mortal joys!
And, in this unpremeditated slight

Of that which is no longer needed, see
The common course of human gratitude!"

This plaintive note disturbed not the repose
Of the still evening. Right across the Lake
Our pinnace moves: then, coasting creek and bay,
Glades we behold and into thickets peep—
Where couch the spotted deer; or raised our eyes
To shaggy steeps on which the careless goat
Browsed by the side of dashing waterfalls.
Thus did the Bark, meandering with the shore

Soft heath this elevated spot supplied,

And choice of moss-clad stones, whereon we couched
Or sate reclined — admiring quietly

The general aspect of the scene; but each
Not seldom over-anxious to make known
His own discoveries; or to favourite points
Directing notice, merely from a wish
To impart a joy, imperfect while unshared.
That rapturous moment ne'er shall I forget
When these particular interests were effaced
From every mind! - Already had the sun,
Sinking with less than ordinary state,
Attained his western bound; but rays of light-
Now suddenly diverging from the orb
Retired behind the mountain tops or veiled
By the dense air-shot upwards to the crown
Of the blue firmament - aloft - and wide:
And multitudes of little floating clouds,
Ere we, who saw, of change were conscious, pierced
Through their ethereal texture, had become
Vivid as fire-clouds separately poised,
Innumerable multitude of Forms

Scattered through half the circle of the sky;
And giving back, and shedding each on each,
With prodigal communion, the bright hues
Which from the unapparent Fount of glory
They had imbibed, and ceased not to receive.
That which the heavens displayed, the liquid deep
Repeated; but with unity sublime!

While from the grassy mountain's open side
We gazed, in silence hushed, with eyes intent
On the refulgent spectacle-diffused
Through earth, sky, water, and all visible space,
The Priest in holy transport thus exclaimed -

"Eternal Spirit! universal God!

Power inaccessible to human thought,

Save by degrees and steps which Thou hast deigned
To furnish; for this effluence of Thyself,

To the infirmity of mortal sense
Vouchsafed; this local transitory type

Of thy paternal splendours, and the pomp

Of those who fill thy courts in highest heaven,
The radiant Cherubim; - accept the thanks
Which we, thy humble Creatures, here convened,
Presume to offer; we, who from the breast
Of the frail earth, permitted to behold
The faint reflections only of thy face,
Are yet exalted, and in soul adore!
Such as they are who in thy presence stand
Unsullied, incorruptible, and drink
Imperishable majesty streamed forth
From thy empyreal Throne, the elect of Earth
Shall be divested at the appointed hour
Of all dishonour-cleansed from mortal stain.
Accomplish, then, their number; and conclude
Time's weary course! Or if, by thy decree,
The consummation that will come by stealth
Be yet far distant, let thy Word prevail,
Oh! let thy Word prevail, to take away
The sting of human nature. Spread the Law,
As it is written in thy holy Book,
Throughout all lands: let every nation hear
The high behest, and every heart obey;
Both for the love of purity, and hope
Which it affords, to such as do thy will
And persevere in good, that they shall rise,
To have a nearer view of Thee, in heaven.
Father of Good! this prayer in bounty grant,
In mercy grant it to thy wretched Sons.
Then, nor till then, shall persecution cease,
And cruel Wars expire. The way is marked,
The guide appointed, and the ransom paid.
Alas! the Nations, who of yore received
These tidings, and in Christian Temples meet
The sacred truth to acknowledge, linger still;
Preferring bonds and darkness to a state
Of holy freedom, by redeeming love
Proffered to all, while yet on earth detained.

"So fare the many; and the thoughtful few,
Who in the anguish of their souls bewail
This dire perverseness, cannot choose but ask,
Shall it endure? - Shall enmity and strife,
Falsehood and guile, be left to sow their seed;
And the kind never perish? Is the hope
Fallacious, or shall righteousness obtain
A peaceable dominion, wide as earth,
And ne'er to fail? Shall that blest day arrive
When they, whose choice or lot it is to dwell
In crowded cities, without fear shall live
Studious of mutual benefit; and he,
Whom morning wakes, among sweet dews and flower
Of every clime, to till the lonely field,
Be happy in himself? - The law of faith
Working through love, such conquest shall it gais,
Such triumph over sin and guilt achieve!
Almighty Lord, thy further grace impart!
And with that help the wonder shall be seen

filled, the hope accomplished; and thy praise e sung with transport and unceasing joy.

Once," and with mild demeanour, as he spake,
as the Venerable Pastor turned

la beaming eye that had been raised to Heaven,
Once, while the Name, Jehovah, was a sound
Within the circuit of this sea-girt isle
sheard, the savage nations bowed the head
Gods delighting in remorseless deeds;

inds which themselves had fashioned, to promote
purposes, and flatter foul desires.

hen, in the bosom of yon mountain cove,
o those inventions of corrupted Man
fysterious rites were solemnized; and there,
mad impending rocks and gloomy woods,

If those terrific Idols, some received
ach dismal service, that the loudest voice
If the swoln cataracts (which now are heard

murmuring) was too weak to overcome, hough aided by wild winds, the groans and shrieks If human Victims, offered up to appease

Ir to propitiate. And, if living eyes
lad visionary faculties to see

be thing that hath been as the thing that is,
least we might behold this crystal Mere
kimmed with smoke, in wreaths voluminous,
ng from the body of devouring fires,
To Taranis erected on the heights
by priestly hands, for sacrifice performed
xultingly, in view of open day

And full assemblage of a barbarous Host;
r to Andates, Female Power! who gave
For so they fancied) glorious Victory.
-A few rude Monuments of mountain-stone
Survive; all else is swept away. - How bright
The appearances of things! From such, how changed
The existing worship; and with those compared,
The Worshippers how innocent and blest!
So wide the difference, a willing mind,
At this affecting hour, might almost think
That Paradise, the lost abode of man,
Was raised again: and to a happy Few,
In its original beauty, here restored.
-Whence but from Thee, the true and only God,
And from the faith derived through Him who bled
loon the Cross, this marvellous advance
Of good from evil; as if one extreme
Were left the other gained—O Ye, who come
To kneel devoutly in yon reverend Pile,
Ced to such office by the peaceful sound
Sabbath bells; and Ye, who sleep in earth,

All cares

forgotten, round its hallowed walls!

For You, in presence of this little Band
Gathered together on the green hill-side,
Your Pastor is emboldened to prefer
Vocal thanksgivings to the Eternal King;

Whose love, whose counsel, whose commands have made

Your very poorest rich in peace of thought
And in good works; and Him, who is endowed
With scantiest knowledge, Master of all truth
Which the salvation of his soul requires.
Conscious of that abundant favour showered
On you, the Children of my humble care,
And this dear Land, our Country, while on Earth
We sojourn, have I lifted up my soul,
Joy giving voice to fervent gratitude.
These barren rocks, your stern inheritance;
These fertile fields, that recompense your pains;
The shadowy vale, the sunny mountain-top;
Woods waving in the wind their lofty heads,
Or hushed; the roaring waters, and the still;
They see the offering of my lifted hands-
They hear my lips present their sacrifice-
They know if I be silent, morn or even:
For, though in whispers speaking, the full heart
Will find a vent; and Thought is praise to Him,
Audible praise, to Thee, Omniscient Mind,
From Whom all gifts descend, all blessings flow!"

This Vesper service closed, without delay,
From that exalted station to the plain
Descending, we pursued our homeward course,
In mute composure, o'er the shadowy lake,
Beneath a faded sky. No trace remained
Of those celestial splendours; gray the vault,
Pure, cloudless ether; and the Star of Eve
Was wanting; but inferior Lights appeared
Faintly, too faint almost for sight; and some
Above the darkened hills stood boldly forth
In twinkling lustre, ere the Boat attained

Her mooring-place; where, to the sheltering tree
Our youthful Voyagers bound fast her prow,
With prompt yet careful hands. This done, we paced
The dewy fields; but ere the Vicar's door
Was reached, the Solitary checked his steps;
Then, intermingling thanks, on each bestowed
A farewell salutation, and, the like
Receiving, took the slender path that leads
To the one Cottage in the lonely dell;
But turned not without welcome promise given,
That he would share the pleasures and pursuits
Of yet another summer's day, consumed
In wandering with us through the Valleys fair,
And o'er the Mountain-wastes. "Another sun,"
Said he, "shall shine upon us, ere we part, —
Another sun, and peradventure more;
If time, with free consent, is yours to give,
And season favours."

To enfeebled Power,

From this communion with uninjured Minds, What renovation had been brought; and what Degree of healing to a wounded spirit,

Note 1, p. 556.

· much did he see of Men." At the risk of giving a shock to the prejudices of artificial 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 knowledge 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 Settlements 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.

It is farther to be observed, for the credit of this most useful class of men, 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. As they wander, each alone, through thinly

inhabited districts, they form habits of reflection, and of sublime contemplation. With all these qual tions, no wonder, that they should often be, in re parts of the country, the best mirrors of fashion, a censors of manners; and should contribute much k polish the roughness, and soften the rusticity of peasantry. It is not more than twenty or thirty yes, since a young man going from any part of Scotiantu England, of purpose to carry the pack, was considered as going to lead the life, and acquire the Fortune, « a Gentleman. When, after twenty years' absence, a that honourable line of employment, he returned with his acquisitions to his native country, he was regard as a Gentleman to all intents and purposes."

Heron's Journey in Scotland, Vol i p

Note 2, p. 572.

"Lost in unsearchable Eternity!"

Since this paragraph was composed, I have mad with so much pleasure, in Burnet's Theory of t Earth, a passage expressing correspondent eentines excited by objects of a similar nature, that I camt forbear to transcribe it.

"Siquod verò Natura nobis dedit spectaculum. hâc tellure, verè gratum, et philosopho dignum, id mel mihi contigisse arbitror; cùm ex celsissima ro speculabundus ad oram maris Mediterranei, hinc ®) ~~ cæruleum, illinc tractus Alpinos prospexi; nihil que magis dispar aut dissimile, nec in suo genere, mas egregium et singulare. Hoc theatrum ego facile pr tulerim Romanis cunctis, Græcisve; atque id ord natura hic spectandum exhibet, scenicis ludis omn aut amphitheatri certaminibus. Nihil hic elegans venustum, sed ingens et magnificum, et quod plert magnitudine suâ et quâdam specie immensitatis H intuebar maris æquabilem superficiem, usque et use diffusam, quantum maximùm oculorum acies ferr potuit; illinc disruptissimam terræ faciem, et vasta moles variè elevatas aut epressas, erectas, propendentes

rec'inatas, coacervatas, omni situ inæquali et turbido. Placuit, ex hac parte, Naturæ unitas et simplicitas, et xhausta quædam planities; ex altera, multiformis cofusio magnorum corporum, et insanæ rerum strages: 11 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, quâ seden, rupes; erat maxima et altissima, et quà terram respiciebat, molliori ascensu altitudinem suam dissimualat: quà verò mare, horrendum præceps, et quasi ad perpendiculum facta, instar parietis. Prætereà facies la marina adeò erat lævis ac uniformis (quod in rupites aliquando observare licet) ac si scissa fuisset à fummo ad imum, in illo plano; vel terræ motu aliquo, aut fulmine, divulsa.

"Ima pars rupis erat cava, recessusque habuit, et mieos specus, euntes in vacuum montem; sive naturâ ordem factos, sive exesos mari, et undarum crebris ctibus: In hos enim cum impetu ruebant et fragore, tuantis maris fluctus; quos iterum spumantes reddidt antrum, et quasi ab imo ventre evomuit.

"Dextrum latus montis erat præruptum, aspero saxo et nudâ caute; sinistrum non adeò neglexerat Natura, arboribus utpote ornatum : et prope pedem montis rivus pidæ aquæ prorupit; qui cùm vicinam vallem irriraterat, lento motu serpens, et per varios mæandros, qousi ad protrahendam vitam, in magno mari absorptus sobito periit. Denique in summo vertice promontorii, ommodè eminebat saxum, cui insidebam contemplabandus. Vale augusta sedes, Rege digna: Augusta ripes, semper mihi memoranda!" P. 89. Theoria sacra, &c. Editio secunda.

Note 3, p. 578.

"Whate'er Abstraction furnished for my Or purposes;"

Telluris

needs

["It seems a paradox only to the unthinking, and it - a fact that none, but the unread in history, will deny, that in periods of popular tumult and innovation the more abstract a notion is, the more readily has it been found to combine, the closer has appeared its affinity, with the feelings of a people and with all their immedate impulses to action. At the commencement of The French Revolution, in the remotest villages every ongue was employed in echoing and enforcing the Almost geometrical abstractions of the physiocratic liticians and economists. The public roads were crowded with armed enthusiasts disputing on the inalenable sovereignty of the people, the imprescriptile laws of the pure reason, and the universal constitation, which, as rising out of the nature and rights of tao as man, all nations alike were under the obliintor of adopting." ..

"It is with nations as with individuals. In tranquil moods and peaceable times we are quite practical. Facts only and cool common sense are then in fashion.

But let the winds of passion swell, and straightway men begin to generalize; to connect by remotest analogies; to express the most universal positions of reason in the most glowing figures of fancy; in short, to feel particular truths and mere facts, as poor, cold, narrow, and incommensurate with their feelings.

"The Apostle of the Gentiles quoted from a Greek comic poet. Let it not then be condemned as unseasonable or out of place, if I remind you that in the intuitive knowledge of this truth, and with his wonted fidelity to nature, our own great poet has placed the greater number of his profoundest maxims and general truths, both political and moral, not in the mouths of men at ease, but of men under the influence of passion, when the mighty thoughts overmaster and be come the tyrants of the mind that has brought them forth. In his Lear, Othello, Macbeth, Hamlet, principles of deepest insight and widest interest fly off like sparks from the glowing iron under the loud anvil.” COLERIDGE: The Statesman's Manual, a Lay Sermon.' H. R.]

Note 4, p. 579.

"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 minutiae, 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: His emotions of tenderness keep pace with his elevation of sentiment; for he says, 'These were made by a good Being, who, unsought by me, placed me here to enjoy them.' He becomes at once a Child and a King. His mind is in himself; from hence he argues, and from hence he acts; and he argues unerringly, and acts magisterially: His mind in himself is also in his God; and therefore he loves, and therefore he soars."- From the notes upon The Hurricane, a Poem, by WILLIAM GILBERT.

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.