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rence to thy name and nature ; for now, in the fire was a fortunate one in which so many noiselessness of midnight, to our awed but books of it were burnt. If no such fortunate loving hearts do both appear divine! Forgive fire ever took place, then let us trust that the üs—we beseech thee that on going to bed-moths drillingly devoured the manuscript--and which we are just about to do—we may be able that 'tis all safe. Purgatorial pains-unless to compose ourselves to sleep and dream of indeed they should prove eternal-are insuffiMiranda and Imogen, and Desdemona and Cor- cient punishment for the impious man who telia. Father revered of that holy family! by invented Allegory. If you have got any thing the strong light in the eyes of Innocence we to say, sir, out with it--in one or other of the beseech thee to forgive us.-Ha! what old ghost many forms of speech employed naturally by art thou--clothed in the weeds of more than creatures to whom God has given the gift of mortal misery-mad, mad, mad—come and discourse of reason.” But beware of mis. gone-was it Lear?

spending your life in perversely attempting to We have found then, it seems—at last-the make shadow substance, and substance shadow. object of our search-a Great Poem-ay--four Wonderful analogies there are among all Great Poems-Lear--Hamlet--Othello-Mac- created things, material and immaterial and beth. And was the revealer of those high millions so fine that Poets alone discern themmysteries in his youth a deer-stealer in the and sometimes succeed in showing them in parks of Warwickshire, a linkboy in London words. Most spiritual region of poetry--and streets ? And died he before his grand climac- to be visited at rare times and seasons-nor all teric in a dimmish sort of a middle-sized tene-life-long ought bard there to abide. For a while ment in Stratford-on-Avon, of a surfeit from let the veil of Allegory be drawn before the an over-dose of home-brewed humming ale? face of 'Truth, that the light of its beauty may Such is the tradition.

shine through it with a softened charm-dim Had we a daughter-an only daughter--we and drear-like the moon gradually obscuring should wish her to be like

in its own halo on a dewy night. Such air• Heavenly Una with her milk-white lamb." woven veil of Allegory is no human invention. In that one line has Wordsworth done an un- The soul brought it with her when appreciable service to Spenser. He has im

"Trailing clouds of glory she did come proved upon a picture in the Fairy Queen

From heaven, which is her home.making "the beauty still more beauteous," by Sometimes, now and then, in moods strange a single touch of a pencil dipped in moonlight, and high-obey the bidding of the soul-and orin sunlight tender as Luna's smiles. Through allegorize; but live not all life-long in an AlleSpenser's many nine-lined stanzas the lovely gory--even as Spenser did-Spenser the dilady glides along her own world—and our eyes vine; for with all his heavenly genius--and follow in delight the sinless wanderer. In brighter visions never met mortal eyes than Wordsworth's one single celestial line we be-his-what is he but a "dreamer among men,' hold her neither in time nor space-an im- and what may save that wondrous poem from mortal omnipresent idea at one gaze occupying the doom of oblivion ? the soul.

To this conclusion must we come at last And is not the Fairy Queen a Great Poem ? that in the English language there is but Like the Excursion, it is at all events a long one Great Poem. What! Not Lear, Hamlet, one—"slow to begin, and never ending.” That Othello, Macbeth ? PARADISE Lost.

INCH-CRUIN.

OA! for the plumes and pinions of the poised/or castle, encompassed with the umbrage of Eagle, that we might now hang over Loch Lo- undying oaks. mond and all her isles! From what point of the We should as soon think of penning a critique compass would we come on our rushing vans? on Milton's Paradise Lost as on Loch Lomond. Up from Leven-banks, or down from Glenfal- People there are in the world, doubtless, who loch, or over the hill of Luss, or down to Row-think them both too long; but to our minds, ardennan; and then up and away, as the chance neither the one nor the other exceeds the due currents in the sky might lead, with the Glory measure by a leaf or a league. You may, if it of Scotland, blue, bright, and breaking into so pleaseth you, think it, in a mist, a Mediterrafoam, thousands on thousands of feet below, nean sea. For then you behold many miles of with every Island distinct in the peculiar beauty tumbling waves, with no land beyond ; aud of its own youthful or ancient woods? For were a ship to rise up in full sail, she would remember, that with the eagle's wing we must seem voyaging on to some distant shore. Or also have the eagle's eye; and all the while you may look on it as a great arm only of the our own soul to look with such lens and such ocean, stretched out into the mountainous mainiris, and with its own endless visions to invest land. Or say, rather, some river of the first the pinnacles of all the far-down ruins of church order, that shows to the sun Islands never ceasing to adorn his course for a thousand waves, towards the melancholy shores of Inch. leagues, in another day about to be lost in the Cruin, the Island of the Afflicted. Beautifu. dominion of the sea. Or rather look on it as is it by nature, with its bays, and fields, and it is, as Loch Lomond, the Loch of a hundred woods, as any isle that sees its shadow in the Isles--of shores laden with all kinds of beauty, deeps ; but human sorrows have steeped it in throughout the infinite succession of bays and eternal gloom, and terribly is it haunted to our harbours-huts and houses sprinkled over the imagination. Here no woodman's hut peeps sides of its green hills, that ever and anon send from the glade-here are not seen the branchup a wider smoke from villages clustering ing antlers of the deer moving among the round the church-tower beneath the wooded boughs that stir not-no place of peace is this rocks-halls half-hidden in groves, for centu- where the world-wearied hermit sits penitent ries the residence of families proud of their in his cell, and prepares his soul for Heaven. Gaelic blood-forests that, however wide be the Its inhabitants are a woful people, and all its fall beneath the axe when their hour is come, various charms are hidden from their eyes, or yet, far as the eye can reach, go circling round seen in ghastly transfiguration ; for here, bethe mountain's base, inhabited by the roe and neath the yew-tree's shade, sit moping, or the red-deer;--but we have got into a sentence roam about with rueful lamentation, the soulthat threatens to be without end-adim, dreary, distracted and the insane! Ay—these sweet sentence, in the middle of which the very writer and pleasant murmurs break round a Lunatic himself gets afraid of ghosts, and fervently Asylum! And the shadows that are now and prays for the period when he shall be again then seen among the umbrage are laughing chatting with the reader on a shady seat, under or weeping in the eclipse of reason, and may his own paragraph and his own pear-tree. never know again aught of the real character

Oh! for our admirable friend Mr. Smith of of this world, to which, exiled as they are Jordanhill's matchless cutter, to glide through from it, they are yet bound by the ties of a among the glittering archipelago! But we common nature that, though sorely deranged, must be contented with a somewhat clumsy are not wholly broken, and still separate them four-oared barge, wide and deep enough for a by an awful depth of darkness from the beasts cattle ferry-boat. This morning's sunrise found that perish. us at the mouth of the Goblin's Cave on Loch Thither, love, yielding reluctantly at last to Katrine, and among Lomond's lovely isles shall despair, has consented that the object on which sunset leave us among the last glimmer of the all its wise solicitudes had for years been unsoftened gold. To which of all those lovely availably bestowed both night and day, should isles shall we drift before the wind on the small be rowed over, perhaps at midnight, and when heaving and breaking waves? To Inch-Murrin, asleep, and left there with beings like itself, where the fallow-deer repose--or to the yew- all dimly conscious of their doom. To many shaded Inch-Caillach, the cemetery of Član- such the change may often bring little or no Alpin-the Holy Isle of Nuns? One hushing heed for outward things may have ceased to afternoon hour may yet be ours on the waters- impress, and they may be living in their own another of the slowly-walking twilight-that rueful world, different from all that we hear or time which the gazing spirit is too wrapt to behold. To some it may seem that they have measure, while “sinks ihe Day-star in the been spirited away to another state of existocean's bed”-and so on to midnight, the reign ence-beautiful, indeed, and fair to see, with of silence and shadow, the resplendent Diana all those lovely trees and shadows of trees; with her hair-halo, and all her star-nymphs, but still a miserable, a most miserable place, rejoicing round their Queen. Let the names without one face they ever saw before, and of all objects be forgotten--and imagination haunted by glaring eyes that shoot forth fear, roam over the works of nature, as if they lay suspicion, and hatred. Others, again, there in their primeval majesty, without one trace of are, who know well the misty head of Benman's dominion. Slow-sailing Heron, that Lomond, which, with joyful pleasure-parties cloud-like seekest thy nest on yonder lofty mass set free from the city, they had in other years of pines—to us thy flight seems the very symbol exultingly scaled, and looked down, perhaps, of a long lone life of peace. As thou foldest in a solemn pause of their youthful ecstasy, thy wide wings on the topmost bough, beneath on the far-off and melancholy Inch-Cruin ! thee tower the unregarded Ruins, where many Thankful are they for such a haven at lastgenerations sleep. Onwards thou floatest like for they are remote from the disturbance of the a dream, nor changest thy gradually descend- incomprehensible life that bewildered them, ing course for the Eagle, that, far above thy and from the pity of familiar faces that was line of travel, comes rushing unwearied from more than could be borne. his prey in distant Isles of the sea. The Os- So let us float upon our oars behind the prey! off-off-to Inch-Loning-or the dark shadow of this rock, nor approach nearer the cliffs of Glenfalloch, many leagues away, which sacred retreat of misery. Let us not gaze too he will reach almost like a thought! Close intently into the glades, for we might see some your eyes but for a moment and when you figure there who wished to be seen nevermore, look again, where is the Cloud-Cleaver now? and recognise in the hurrying shadow the Gone in the sunshine, and haply seated in his living remains of a friend. How profound the eyrie on Ben-Lomond's head.

hush! No sigh-no groan-no shriek-po But amidst all this splendour and magnifi- voice-no tossing of arms no restless chafcence, our eyes are drawn against our will, ing of feet! God in mercy has for a while and by a sort of sad fascination which we calmed the congregation of the afflicted, and cannot resist, along the glittering and dancing the Isle is overspread with a sweet Sabbath

cence.

silence. What medicine for them like the equally versatile and profound--the first both breath of heaven-the dew—the sunshine-in intellect and in imagination. He was a and the murmur of the wave! Nature her poor man's son--the only son of a working self is their kind physician, and sometimes carpenter--and his father intended him for the not unfrequently brings them by her holy skill church. But the youth soon felt that to him back to the world of clear intelligence and the trammels of a strict faith would be unserene affection. They listen calmly to the bearable, and he lived on from year to year, blessed sound of the oar that brings a visit of uncertain what profession to choose. Meanfriends—to sojourn with them for a day~or while his friends, all inferior to him in talents to take them away to another retirement, and acquirements, followed the plain, open, where they, in restored reason, may sit around and beaten path, that leads sooner or later to the board, nor fear to meditate during the mid- respectability and independence. He was left night watches on the dream, which, although alone in his genius, useless, although admired dispelled, may in all its ghastliness return. -while those who had looked in high hopes There was a glorious burst of sunshine! on his early career, began to have their fears And of all the Lomond Isles, what one rises that they might never be realized. His first up in the sudden illumination so bright as attempts to attract the notice of the public, Inch-Cruin?

although not absolute failures—for some of his Methinks we see sitting in his narrow and compositions, both in prose and verse, were low-roofed cell, careless of food, dress, sleep, indeed beautiful--were not triumphantly sucor shelter alike, him who in the opulent mart cessful, and he began to taste the bitterness of of commerce was one of the most opulent, and disappointed ambition. His wit and colloquial devoted heart and soul to show and magnifi- talents carried him into the society of the dis

His house was like a palace with its sipated and the licentious; and before he was pictured and mirror'd walls, and the nights aware of the fact, he had got the character of wore away to dance, revelry, and song. For all others the most humiliating—that of a man tune poured riches at his feet, which he had who knew not how to estimate his own worth, only to gather up; and every enterprise in nor to preserve it from pollution. He found which he took part, prospered beyond the himself silently and gradually excluded from reach of imagination. But all at once-as the higher circle which he had once adorned, if lightning had struck the dome of his pros- and sunk inextricably into a lower grade of perity, and earthquake let down its founda- social life. His whole habits became loose tions, it sank, crackled, and disappeared-and and irregular; his studies were pursued but the man of a million was a houseless, infa- by fits and starts; his knowledge, instead of mous, and bankrupt beggar. In one day his keeping pace with that of the times, became proud face changed into the ghastly smiling clouded and obscure, and even diminished; of an idiot—he dragged his limbs in paralysis his dress was meaner; his manners hurried, and slavered out unmeaning words foreign and reckless, and wild, and ere long he became to all the pursuits in which his active intellect a slave to drunkenness, and then to every low had for many years been plunged. All his and degrading vice. relations to whom it was known he had ne- His father died, it was said, of a broken heart ver shown kindness--were persons in humble --for to him his son had been all in all, and condition. Ruined creditors we do not expect the unhappy youth felt that the death lay at his to be very pitiful, and people asked what was door. At last, shunned by most-tolerated but to become of him till he died. A poor crea- by a few for the sake of other times-domiciled ture, whom he had seduced and abandoned to in the haunts of infamy_loaded with a heap want, but who had succeeded to a small pro- of paltry debts, and pursued by the hounds of perty on the death of a distant relation, re- the law, the fear of a prison drove him mad, membered her first, her only love, when all and his whole mind was utterly and hopelessly the rest of the world were willing to forget overthrown. A few of the friends of his boyhim; and she it was who had him conveyed hood raised a subscription in his behoof--and thither, herself sitting in the boat with her within the gloom of these woods he has been arm round the unconscious idiot, who now shrouded for many years, but not unvisited vegetates on the charity of her whom he be once or twice a summer by some one, who trayed. For fifteen years he has continued to knew, loved, and admired him in the morning exist in the same state, and you may pro- of that genius that long before its meridian nounce his name on the busy Exchange of brightness had been so fatally eclipsed. the city where he flourished and fell, and And can it be in cold and unimpassioned haply the person you speak to shall have en- words like these that we thus speak of Thee tirely forgotten it.

and thy doom, thou Soul of fire, and once the The evils genius sometimes brings to its brightest of the free, privileged by nature to possessor have often been said and sung, per- walk along the mountain-ranges, and mix their haps with exaggerations, but not always with spirits with the stars! Can it be that all thy out truth. It is found frequently apart from glorious aspirations, by thyself forgotten, have prudence and principle; and in a world con- no dwelling-place in the memory of one who stituted like ours, how can it fail to reap a loved thee so well, and had his deepest affection. harvest of misery or death? A fine genius, so profoundly returned! Thine was a heart and even a high, had been bestowed on One once tremblingly alive to all the noblest and who is now an inmate of that cottage-cell, finest sympathies of our nature, and the humpeering between these two rocks. At College, blest human sensibilities became beautifu! he outstripped all his compeers by powers / when tinged by the light of thy imagination

l'hy genius invested the most ordinary objects palled was he ever in the whizzing and hissing with a charm not their own; and the vision it fire-nor did his bold broad breast ever shrink created thy lips were eloquent to disclose. from the bayonet, that with the finished fencer's What although thy poor old father died, be- art he has often turned aside when red with cause by thy hand all his hopes were shivered, death. In many of the pitched battles of the and for thy sake poverty stripped even the Spanish campaigns his plume was conspicuous coverlet from his dying-bed-yet we feel as if over the dark green lines, that, breaking asunsome dreadful destiny, rather than thy own der in fragments like those of the flowing sea, crime, blinded thee to his fast decay, and only to re-advance over the bloody fields, closed thine ears in deafness to his beseeching cleared the ground that was to be debated beprayer. Oh! charge not to creatures such as tween the great armaments. Yet in all such we all the fearful consequences of our mis- desperate service he never received one single conduct and evil ways! We break hearts we wound. But on a mid-day march, as he was would die to heal—and hurry on towards the gaily singing a love-song, the sun smote him grave those whom to save we would leap into to the very brain, and from that moment his the devouring fire. Many wondered in their right hand grasped the sword no more. anger that thou couldst be so callous to the Not on the face of all the earth-or of all the old man's grief-and couldst walk tearless at sea—is there a spot of profounder peace than his coffin. The very night of the day he was that isle that has long been his abode. But to buried thou wert among thy wild companions, him all the scene is alive with the pomp of in a house of infamy, close to the wall of the war. Every far-off precipice is a fort, that has churchyard. Was not that enough to tell us its own Spanish name and the cloud above all that disease was in thy brain, and that seems to his eyes the tricolor, or the flag of his reason, struggling with insanity, had changed own victorious country. War, that dread game sorrow to despair. But perfect forgiveness—that nations play at, is now to the poor insane forgiveness made tender by profoundest pity-soldier a mere child's pastime, from which was finally extended to thee by all thy friends sometimes he himself will turn with a sigh or -frail and erring like thyself in many things, a smile. For sense assails him in his delirium, although not so fatally misled and lost, because for a moment and no more; and he feels that in the mystery of Providence not so irresistibly he is far away, and for ever, from all his comtried. It seemed as if thou hadst offended the panions in glory, in an asylum that must be Guardian Genius, who, according to the old left but for the grave! Perhaps in such mophilosophy which thou knewest so well, is ments he may have remembered the night, given to every human being at his birth; and when at Badajos he led the forlorn hope; but that then the angel left thy side, and Satan even forlorn hope

Row hath he none, and he strove to drag thee to perdition. And hath sinks away back into his delusions, at which any peace come to thee-a youth no more— even his brother sufferers smile- ---so foolish but in what might have been the prime of man- does the restless campaigner seem to these men hood, bent down, they say, to the ground, with of peace! a head all floating with silver hairs-hath any Lo! a white ghost-like figure, slowly issuing peace come to thy distracted soul in these from the trees, and sitting herself down on a woods, over which there now seems again to stone, with face fixed on the waters ! Now brood a holy horror ?-Yes—thy fine dark eyes she is so perfectly still, that had we not seen are not wholly without intelligence as they her motion thither, she and the rock would look on the sun, moon, and stars; although all have seemed but one! Somewhat fantastically their courses seem now confused to thy imagi- dressed, even in her apparent despair. Were nation, once regular and ordered in their mag- we close to her, we should see a face yet beaunificence before that intellect which science tiful, beneath hair white as snow. Her voice claimed as her own. The harmonies of nature too, but seldom heard, is still sweet and low; are not all lost on thy ear, poured forth through- and sometimes, when all are asleep, or at least out all seasons, over the world of sound and silent, she begins at midnight to sing! She yet sight. Glimpses of beauty startle thee as thou touches the guitar-an instrument in fashion wanderest along the shores of thy prison-isle; in Scotland when she led the fashion-with and that fine poetical genius, not yet ex- infinite grace and delicacy-and the songs she tinguished altogether, although fami and flick- loves best are those in a foreign tongue. For ering, gives vent to something like snatches more than thirty years hath the unfortunate of songs, and broken elegies, that seem to lady come to the water's edge daily, and hour wail over the ruins of thy own soul! Such after hour continue to sit motionless on that peace as ever visits them afflicted as thou art, self-same stone, looking down into the loch. be with thee in cell or on shore; nor lost to Her story is now almost like a dim tradition Heaven will be the wild moanings of-to us from other ages, and the history of those who thy unintelligible prayers!

come here often fades away into nothing. But hark to the spirit-stirring voice of the Everywhere else they are forgotten-here bugle scaling the sky, and leaping up and down there are none who can remember. Who once in echoes among the distant mountains! Such so beautiful as the “Fair Portuguese ?" It a strain animates the voltigeur, skirmishing in was said at that time that she was a Non-but front of the line of battle, or sending flashes of the sacred veil was drawn aside by the hand sudden death from the woods. Alas! for him of love, and she came to Scotland with her dewho now deludes his yet high heart with a few liverer! Yes, her deliverer! He delivered her notes of the music that so often was accompa- from the gloom--often the peaceful gloom that nied by his sword waving on to glory. Unap-hovers round the altar of Superstition-and after a few years of love and life and joy-she Inversnayde, and whom they vainly wept over sat where you now see her sitting, and the as dead. One evening she had floated away world she had adorned moved on in brightness by herself in a small boat-while her parents and in music as before! Since there has to her heard, without fear, the clang-duller and dullbeen so much suffering—was there on her parter of the oars, no longer visible in the distant no sin? No-all believed her to be guiltless, moonshine. In an hour the returning vessel except one, whose jealousy would have seen touched the beach-but no child was to be falsehood lurking in an angel's eyes; but she seen—and they listened in vain for the music was utterly deserted; and being in a strange of the happy creature's songs. For weeks the country, worse than an orphan, her mind gave loch rolled and roared like the seamnor was way; for say not-oh say not that innocence the body found any where lying on the shore. can always stand against shame and despair! Long, long afterwards, some little white bones The hymns she sings at midnight are hymns to were interred in Christian burial, for the pathe Virgin; but all her songs are songs about rents believed them to be the remains of their love and chivalry, and knights that went cru- child—all that had been left by the bill of the sading to the Holy Land. He who brought her raven. But not so thought many dwellers from another sanctuary into the one now before along the mountain-shores—for had not her us, has been dead many years. He perished very voice been often heard by the shepherds, in shipwreck—and 'tis thought that she sits when the unseen flight of Fairies sailed singing there gazing down into the loch, as on the along up the solitary Glenfalloch, away over place where he sank or was buried; for when the moors of Tynedrum, and down to the sweet told that he was drowned, she shrieked, and Dalmally, where the shadow of Cruachan made the sign of the cross--and since that long- darkens the old ruins of melancholy Kilchurn ? ago day that stone has in all weathers been The lost child's parents died in their old ageher constant seat,

but she, 'tis said, is unchanged in shape and Away we go westwards-like fire-worship- features—the same fair thing she was the pers devoutly gazing on the setting sun. And evening that she disappeared, only a shade of another isle seems to shoot across our path, sadness is on her pale face, as if she were separated suddenly, as if by magic, from the pining for the sound of human voices, and the mainland. How beautiful, with its many cres- gleam of the peat-fire of the shieling. Ever, cents, the low-lying shores, carrying here and when the Fairy-court is seen for a moment bethere a single tree quite into the water, and neath the glimpses of the moon, she is sitting with verdant shallows guarding the lonely se- by the side of the gracious Queen. Words of clusion even from the keel of canoe! Round might there are, that if whispered at right seaand round we row, but not a single landing son, would yet recall her from the shadowy place. Shall we take each of us a fair burden world, to which she has been spirited away; in his arms, and bear it to that knoll, whisper- but small sentinels stand at their stations round ing and quivering through the twilight with a the isle, and at nearing of human breath, a few birches whose stems glitter like silver pil- shrill warning is given from sedge and waterlars in the shade ? No-let us not disturb the lilly, and like dew-drops melt away the phansilent people, now donning their green array toms, while, mixed with peals of little laughter, for nightly revelries. It is the “ Isle of Fai- overhead is heard the winnowing of wings. ries,” and on that knoll hath the fishermen For the hollow of the earth, and the hollow of often seen their Queen sitting on a throne, sur- the air, is their Invisible Kingdom; and when rounded by myriads of creatures no taller than they touch the herbage or flowers of this earth hare-bells; one splash of the oar--and all is of ours, whose lonely places they love, then vanished. There, it is said, lives among the only are they revealed to human eyes--at Folk of Peace, the fair child who, many years all times else to our senses unexistent as ago, disappeared from her parents' shieling at dreams !

A DAY AT WINDERMERE.

Old and gouty, we are confined to our chair; | dulgent master. 'Tis pleasure to look at Doand occasionally, during an hour of rainless mitian-so we love to call him-sallying from sunshine, are wheeled by female hands along the centre against a wearied wasp, lying, like the gravel-walks of our Policy, an unrepining a silk worm, circumvoluted in the inextricable and philosophical valetudinarian. Even the toils, and then seizing the sinner by the nape. Crutch is laid up in ordinary, and is encircled of the neck, like Christopher with a Cockney, with cobwebs. A monstrous spider has there to see the emperor haul him away into the set up his rest; and our stil: study ever and charnel-house. But we have often less savage anon hearkens to the shrill buzz of some poor recreations—such as watching our bee-hives fly expiring between those formidable forceps when about to send forth colonies—feeding our - just as so many human ephemerals have pigeons, a purple people that dazzle the daylight breathed their last beneath the bite of his in- -- gathering roses as they choke our smal .

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