Puslapio vaizdai

logic flows forth from his lips, in which, as in that, themselves needlessly to such a charge ? We of Lear's madness, the foundations of society think in general, that true taste in this, as in seem to quiver like reeds, and every mount of matters of dress and etiquette, dictates conforconventionalism is no longer found ; and in the mity to the present mode, provided that does not lull of that tempest, and in the returning sun- unduly cramp the freedom and the force of natural shine, how beautiful, how almost super-human, motions. There is, indeed, a class of writers who seem the figures of the two lovers, seen now and are chartered libertines—who deal with language magnified through the mist of the reader's fast- as they please—who toss it about as the autumn flowing tears. It is a tale of successful love, and wind leaves ; who, in the agony of their earnestyet it melts you like a tragedy, and most melts ness, or in the fury of their excitement, seize on you in the crisis of the triumph. On Geraldine we rude and unpolished words, as Titans on rocks had gazed as on a star, with dry-eyed and distant and mountains, and gain artistic triumphs in admiration; but when that stardissolves in showers opposition to all the rules of art.

Such are at the feet of her poet lover, we weep for very Wilson and Carlyle, and such were Burke and joy. Truly a tear is a sad yet beautiful thing ; Chalmers. These men we must just take as they it constitutes a link connecting us with distant are, and be thankful for them as they are. We countries, nay, connecting us with distant worlds. must just give them their own way. And whether Gravitation has, amid all her immensity, wrought such a permission be given or not, it is likely to no such lovely work as when she rounded a tear. be taken. “Canst thou draw out Leviathan

From this beautiful poem alone, we might argue with a hook, or his tongue with a cord which. Mrs. Browning's capacity for producing a great thou lettest down? will he make many supplidoinestic tragedy. We might argue it, also, from cations unto thee? will he speak soft words unto the various peculiarities of her genius-her far thee? Will the Unicorn be willing to serve vision into the springs of human conduct-into thee, or abide by thy crib ? canst thou bind him those viewless veins of fire, or of poison, which with his band in the furrow? will he harrow the wind within the human heart—her sympathy valleys after thee? wilt thou believe that he will with dark bosoms—the passion for truth, which bring home thy seed, and gather into thy barn ?" pierces often the mist of her dimmer thought, No: like the tameless creatures of the wilderness like a flash of irrepressible lightning-her fervid - like the chainless elements of the air-such men temperament, always glowing round her intellec.obey a law, and use a language, and follow a tual sight-and her queen-like dominion overima- path of their own. gery and language. We think, meanwhile, that But this rare privilege Mrs. Browning cannot she has mistaken her sphere. In that rare atmo- claim, And she owes it to herself and to sphere of transcendentalismwbich she has reached, her admirers to simplify her manner--to sift she respires with difliculty, and with pain. She her diction of whatever is harsh and barbarous is not “native and endued” into that element. -to speak whatever truth is in her, in the We would warn her off the giddy region, where clear articulate language of men--and to quicken, tempests may blow, as well as clouds gather. as she well can, the dead forms of ordinary Her recent sonnets in Blackwood are sad failures, verbiage, by the spirit of her own superabundant -the very light in them is darkness—thoughts, in life. Then, but not till then, shall her voice themselves as untangible as the films upon the break fully through the environment of coteries, window pane, are concealed in a woof of words, cliques, and Magazine readers, and fall upon the till their thin and shadowy meaning fades utterly ear of the general public, like the sound sweet in away. Morbid weakness, she should remember, its sublimity, simple amid its complex elements, is not masculine strength. But can she not, earthly in its cause and unearthly in its effect through the rentsin her cloudy tabernacle, discern, upon the soul, of a multitude of waters. far below in the vale, fields of deep though homely At present she seems to have seated herself, beauty, where she might more gracefully and like a second witch of Endor, in a cave of mystery successfully exercise her exquisite genius? She and vaticination-her “familiar,” her gifted hushas only to stoop to conquer. By and bye we band, a spirit well worthy of holding high consulmay-using unprofanely an expression originally tation with herself; and who, like the famuli profane-be tempted to say, as we look up the of ancient magicians, is equally adapted for darkened mountain, with its flashes of fire hourly humorous sport, and for serious thought and enterwaxing fewer and feebler, “ As for this poetess, prise. We have in spirit been visiting her cavern, we wot not what has become of her.”

and have come back in the mood of prophesying. While we are venturing on accents of warning, She has, if not taught, confirmed on us impressions, we might also remind her that there are in her in reference to the future progress of Poetry, style and manner peculiarities which a wicked which we may close this lucubration by expressworld will persist in calling affectations. On the ing. charge of affectation, generally, we are disposed to That Poetry, notwithstanding its present delay little stress-it is a charge so easily got up, graded and enfeebled condition, is not extinct, por and which can be go readily swelled into a cuckoo ever shall be extinguished, we may at once cry; it is often applied with such injustice, and assume. As long as the sky is blue, and the rainit so generally attaches to singularities in manner, bow beautiful—as long as man's heart is warm instead of insincerities in spirit and matter. But and the face of woman fair-Poetry, like seed-time why should a true man, or a true woman, expose and harvest, summer and winter, shall not cease.

Nay, may we not apply to it the words of " Night Thoughts ")-prose often kindling inCampbell, applied originally to hope

to poetry ; the prose of Chalmers and of Nichol

have these themes been worthily treated. But “ Eternal Art, when yonder spheres sublime

who is waiting, with his lyre in his eager hand, to Pealed their first notes to sound the march of time,

be ready to sing the steep-rising glories of the Thy joyous youth began, but not to fade : When all the sister planets have decayed,

Rossian heavens? We have the "Night Thoughts, When wrapt in fire the realms of ether glow, which are a century behind the present stage of And heaven's last thunder shakes the world below, the science ; but who shall write us a poem on Thou undismayed shall o'er the ruins smile,

“Night,” worthy, in some measure, of vieing with And light thy torch at Nature's funeral pile.”

that solemn yet spirit-stirring theme? Sooner But in two things especially we perceive a or later it must be done. The Milton of Midprovision being made in the present day, for the night must yet arise. sustenance of the Poetic spirit, and for the further Another security for the future triumphs of development of the Poetic faculty. One is the Poetry is to be found in the spread of the Earnest advancement of scientific truth. This, so far from Spirit. That such a spirit is coming over the being, as in the vulgar notion, adverse, is favour- age, men feel as by a general and irresistible able to the progress of Poetry. Poetry, as a true intuition. There are, besides, many distinct evithing, must be furthered by tlie advance of every dences, and in nothing more so than in the preother section of truth. Poetry can rule by division sent state of Poetry. Its clouds, loug so light and as well as by multiplication. Poetry stands ever gay, are rapidly charging with thunder, and from ready to pour her forces through the smallest that black orchestra, when completely filled, what breaches which science makes. Nay, all the tones of power and music may be expected. All sciences are already employed, and shall yet be the leading poets of our later day—Tennyson, more solemnly enlisted into the service of Poetry. Browning, Mrs. Browning, Emerson, and BayBotany goes forth into the fields and the woods, ley—are avowing and acting on their belief that collects her fairest flowers, and binds with them Poetry is no child's pastime, but one of the most a chaplet for the brow of Poetry. Conchology serious of all serious things. This fills us with from the waters and from the sea shores gathers hope and high expectancy. It recalls to us a her loveliest shells, and hark! when uplifted to past period, when the names of prophet and of the ear of Poetry, "pleased, they remember their poet were the same ; when bards were the real august abodes, and murmur as the ocean murmurs rulers; when the highest truth came forth in

Anatomy lays bare the human frame-melody ; when rhyme and reason had never been 80 fearfully and wonderfully made--and Poetry divorced. It points us forward, with sunbeambreathes back a portion of the spirit which that finger, to a future day, when, in Emerson's fine cold clay has lost, and its dry bones and withered language, “ Poetry shall lead in a new age, as sinews begin to live. Chemistry leads Poetry to there is a star in the constellation Harp, which the side of her furnace, and shows her transfor- shall yet, astronomers tell us, be the polar star mations scarcely less marvellous and magical than for a thousand years.” We are, however slowly her own. Geology lifts, with daring yet trembling nearing that star! And, when men have become hand, the "veil that is woven with night and more enlightened, more welded into unity, more with terror,

from the history of past worlds, of penetrated with high principle, more warmed cycles of ruin and renovation of creations and de- with the emotion of love—when the earth has stroyings, and allows the eye of Poetry to look become more worthy of shining between Orion down in wonder, and to look up in fire. And and the Great Bear—between Mars and Venus Astronomy conducts Poetry to her observatory, there shall break forth from it a voice of song, and enjoys her amazement at the spectacle of holier far than Amphion's ; sweeter than all Orthat storm of suns, for ever blowing in the mid-phean measures; comparable to that fabled menight sky. In the progress of astronomy, indeed, lody, by which the spheres were said to attune we see opening up the loftiest of conceivable fields their motions ; comparable, say rather, to that for the poet.

Who has hitherto adequately sung nobler song, wherewith, when Earth, a stranger, the wonders of the Newtonian-how much less of first appeared in our sky, she was saluted by her the Herschellian heavens? In prose alone (ex. kindred orbs-“when the morning stars sang cepting, indeed, some splendid passages of the together, and all the Sons of God shouted for joy."



AWAY, away, I burst!

Who will follow me ? who?
I have quenched my burning thirst,

And I'm off! Whiz, whistle, whew !
With my glowing heart of fire,

And my never tiring arm, And my whispering magic wire,

With its space-destroying charm,

From the city I sweep along,

Like an arrow swift and true;
And before the eyes of the dazzled throng

I sing out--Whiz, whistle, whew!
The citizen stood in my path,

With the bower of delights he had made,
And proudly he vowed, in his wrath,

That his privacy none should invado ;

My gold in his purse dropped sweet,

My iron o'er his lawn I threw,
And I laughed at the calm of his snug retreat,

With a merry whistle, whew !
he peer, from his old grey towers-

His forefathers' proud domain-
Looked down on my new-born powers

With a lordly and high disdain ;-
But he started to see my breath

His ancestral oaks bedew;
And I greeted his car, his window beneath,

With a piercing whistle, whew !
The Scot on his wild hill stood,

Defying my onward course ;
And, pointing to mountain and food,

He dared me a passage to force ;--
But my arch o'er the gulf I flung,

And the startled heathcock flew
As the caverned breast of the lone hills rung

With a tearing whistle, whew!
Poor Pat from his bog looked round,

And mocked my advancing tread ;-
But I taught him to drain the deceitful ground,

And his little ones blessed me for bread;
For Famine forsook his door

When I made him my servant true,
And whererer I went he passed on before,

To make way for the whistle, whew !
When I came to the crowded town

They said I must stand outside ;

But from high on their roofs I looked down,

And they stared at my giant stride;
Then, hiding with cunning art,

I tunnelied in darkness through,
And came rushing up in the city's heart,

With a fierce whiz, whistle, whew!
The old Royal Mail dashed on,

With its coachman and guard in state,
And its foaming steeds, and its bugle-blowor,

In its glory and pride elate;
To a creeping bus it shrunk,

As my steam-cloud arose in view;
And its haughty guard to a cabman gunk,

Came to meet the whistle, whew!
'Tis good that I pass along ;

From the smoke of the city I boar
A pale and o'erwearied throng

To the fields and the fresh sweet air.
'Tis good ; for my path is fraught

With boons for the country too-
I waken men's spirits to life and thought

With my stirring whistle, whew !
I fly like the tempest's wing-

Yet the timid have naught to fear ;
A great but a gentle thing-

An infant might check my career.
Away, away, away!

Who will not follow me? who?
Peasant and prince the shrill summons obey
Of ny proud whiz, whistle, whew!

A. M.

Suggested by an authentic account of the introduction of that tree into Europe, as given in a little work on

flowers, written for young people.
By Mississippi's giant flood,

Will not that wood's far sea of Aowers
A hundred years ago, there stood

Haunt with sweet breath its distant hours,
A wanderer o'er the seas, with eyes

Till every breeze that wanders by
Lit up to rapturous surprise,

Shall westward bear its mouruful sigh?
To look upon that glorious wood-

Wo! if thus drooping day by day,
That vast magnolia-forest, spread

It wither from her care away ;
O'er miles on miles of solitude :-

And that far brother's trophy dear
Its kingly leaves, each measuring oft

Remain no more her life to cheer!
Full three smooth feet of darkest green ;
Its white and vase-like flowers, aloft

No! for-as if the giver's heart
Like chiselled alabaster seen;

Had steeped it in the life of love,

Never henceforward to depart,
With richest breath, that leagues from there

Where'er his steps might rove-
llad met him floating on the air.

It lived beneath those skies of France,
And back his quick affections fled,

And rose under their blue expanse
As the delicious fragrance stole

With slow yet stately grace ;
Through sense to the unsensual soul,
Back to a lored one, whose delight,

Still seeming to her silent glance
Of all delights, in blossom lay-

As though of him it spoke,
The sister of his youth, whom now

Of feelings years might not efface,
He had not seen for many a day :-

Nor the dividing gulphs of space,
And then he vowed he would, despite

Nor all the storms that broke
Of earth, and air, and sea,

Around his way—who now again
For her uproot, and bear away

Was on the wild resounding main.
Far over ocean's sparkling spray,

That brother, fond and brave, went down
One young Magnolia Tree.

And perished in the deep!

Then not her loved Magnolia's own
The wild sea spared it, and the wind

Dear whisperings could lull the lone
Withered it not with breath unkind :

Sad sister's grief to sleep.
So strange, so stately, and so sweet,

'Twas but a little while she pined,
It charmed for once their dread deceit.

Then passed away, and left behind
And to that loved one's garden shades

(An exile, nameless and unknown,)
The lonely tree was borne :-

The poor Magnolia Tree!
Alas! if now at last it fades-
So haughty and forlorn !

Deserted for a space remained

That home of her, the fond, the true!
From its own odorous forest glades,

And then a stranger came and trod
From its own brilliant kindred's side,

Those garden paths; that verdant sod
And their green realm of freedom wide,

Now, with its flowers of every huo,
Forever more uptorn!

And groves, to him pertained.

And often, as he roved along

Where she with softest step and song
The plants of earth had trained,
One wondrous laurel ( could it be,
In truth, a laurel's majesty ?)

His earnest gaze enchained.
As yet its buds had not out-blown;

But soon their dazzling crowds
Burst forth, like sculptured Parian stone,

Or swan-white polar clouds ;
No laurel, though Apollo's treo,
Was e'er so exquisite to see!
It chanced that then through sunny Nantes-

Wherefore, I do forget-
The flower and chivalry of France

Passing, had briefly met.
And one, who knew all plants and trees
That then, beyond the farthest seas,
Were known to tremble to the breeze,
Amidst the assembly came, and bore
A little branch, all blossomed o'er,
Unto a noble princess there,
An offering for her flowing hair,

Or for her jewelled breast.
The princess gazed upon her prize
With joy-dilated, sparkling eyes,

That all her soul expressed.
Then from those snowy w:rx-like flowers,

Lifting her smile she asked,
“Where, where, in what enchanted bowers,
In what new world more fair than ours,

Under what sunbeams basked-
These, in whose breath such sweetness lies,
Like nothing else beneath the skies ?''
The knights and ladies crowded round

As nearly as they might;
And one deep-whisperid, long-drawn sound
The peerless, pure Magnolia crown'd
(Oh! not through any courtier-arts)
With every lip's and every heart's

Admiring delight!
Preciously treasured with its stem,

In water crystal clear,
Most like some rare and costly gem,

It reached the royal court, and there,

One in her bosom, one her hair
(lierself a tlower with scarce a peer),

The graceful princess wore.
There, when the monarch's eagle eye,
Amidst his courtiers passing by,

Fell on those flowers of spotless hue, And when he felt their fragrance pour

Through all tliat proud and throng saloon,

Whose midnight was more bright than noon,
Impatient wonder swiftly broke
All kingly fetters, to be told
That which he questioned, softly, bold,
“Where those sweet flowers that decked her hair
And purest bosom grew ?"

The fair and envied princess spoke,
“My sire, at Mailliendiere.”
Then Louis said, “ That tree shall stand
In no dim corner of my land;

For, as I am a king,
And sure as gold on earth prevails,
To our own bowers of bright Versailles ;
Ay, by our royal word, and soon

Its splendour we will bring.
Were it at half my realms expense,

No lowlier spot should own
Such princely sweet magnificence ;
Like some fair queen it shall come thence-

We will its charms enthrone."
Howbeit, for once, a tree defied
A sovereign in his power and pride ;
For Louis learned that it would die,
E'en cheered by his own kingly eye,

If torn away from there,
From that more humble garden soil,
Where love, not pride, in days that were
Had planted it with fondest care,

And heart-delighted toil.
Reluctantly and slow the king
Resigned his royal will
At last persuaded 't would but crown
With blight as surely as renown-
(Should he his haughty vow fulil)

That rare and lovely thing.
So there the sweet Magnolia staid,
And its proud owner's glory made,

And won him more than farne :
For every flower superb it bore,
Brought him of gold a glittering store ;

And many a high and noble dame
Lavished well-pleased that gold, to own
For her fair bosom oe alone

The enchanted gaze to claim-
Ah! well I ween that not for gold
Would its dead mistruss one have sold,

Or parted with for aught but love,
Before she left it, to behold

The tree of life above !
Afterward, while serene and still,
Its western forest lay
While Mississippi smoothly rolled

On his majestic way,
Thunders broke o'er all Europe old,
And many a nation's death-bell tolled,

Pealing from hill to hill:
Passed rushed the fiery breath of war,
Roused by one blazing mortal star,

The harbinger of ill.
Ah! then the sadly thrilling sight,
To see the swift and crackling flames
(Like snake its victim-prey that claims)
Amid those blossomed branches glare,
Amid those glossy leaves so rare,

Of the Magnolia bright!
But unconsumed it lingered on!

And patient care revived
That tree which through the waves bad gone,

And how the fiames survived ! As though the girer's spirit yet

Watched o'er what she had loved
And by no after power would let

Its root be thence removed.
And there, within that sunny land's

Old garden-bowers, they say,
The beautiful Magnolia stands,
Love's record to this day !



It is not our purpose to narrate the dangers residuum of Falmouth fog, or the slightest fragthrough which the Royal Family and their suite ment of a broken Black Eagle boiler, that is not cut their way in the dangerous passage from recorded. They have told in moving language in Osborne House to Ardverikie Lodge. The news- what manner the heir-apparent to the British papers have done it all. They have not left a throne, covered by a small south-wester, in a

very small blue jacket, with white canvas vest, | its attendants. Neither do we propose to relate
and trousers of the same material, without the particulars of that wonderful battle for pre-
braces, although the same may be had patented, cedency on the rock of Dumbarton, between the
and warranted to wear for the tenth part of a knights, with the Sheriffs of that shire, the Pro-
life-time, at the moderate charge of two shillings vost and Bailies of that glass-blowing and ship-
and fourpence, but with a profusion of linen, very building borough on the one hand; and the Lord
clean, protruding from between the ill-jointed gar- Provost and Magistrates of Glasgow on the
ments, at the grand junction of the upper and lower other-a combat whereat the Queen of England
lines of clothing, gathered cockle-shells and sea- was umpire, sitting enthroned on the Argyle bat-
weed at Cairn-Ryan, in the midst ofan enthusiastic tery, on that basaltic rock which, frowning on the
and admiring population, who were straining their Clyde, has been for two thousand years the
eyes, and all kinds of optical instruments, to premier fortress of the North, not in point of mag-
catch but one glimpse of the great young gentle- nitude, but of antiquity, and where she delivered
man who, in the shape of a sailor-boy, was collect- her award of victory by Herald Earl Grey. The
ing “ marine specimens, we suppose, amongst struggle has been already fully detailed in speeches
their own rocks, and at their own feet. They and in a pamphlet-the defeated parties—the
(the newspapers, viz.) have deprived us of the chivalry, viz., of Dumbartonshire - consoling
pleasure of narrating this touching story, though themselves by publishing their discomfiture to
we might take affidavit before Sir Peter Lawrie, the world in that form. We may, however, tell
knight and alderman, to the person of the honest the reader who does not examine these details
woman who wanted to treat the poor sailor-boy minutely, that the point of controversy arose out
to cheese and bread, and a bed on shore, be- of a permission given by her Majesty to the cor-
cause, as she truly said, her own John was in the poration of Glasgow to present an address per-
Susan and Mary, schooner, belonging to Troon, sonally-a privilege generally confined to the
burden, eighty-nine and a half tons, avoirdupois, corporation of London, but which the people of
in the coal trade ; and nobody could tell at least Dumbartonshire thought should have been ex-
she could not tell—that he might not also be tended to their parchments and all other papers
thrown amongst strange folks.

of a kindred kind,
We cannot even have the pleasure of stating, It might approach more nearly our purpose to
without plagiarism, the difficulties and disappoint- describe the reception of the sovereign by the
ments, the delays, and the deferred hopes of MacCallummore at his castle of Inverary, on
three hundred and thirty-three thousand of her Wednesday the 18th ultimo ; the array of Camp-
Majesty's subjects, who, on Monday, the 16th ult., bells ; the foregathering of clansmen ; the dis-
in utter defiance of the Macedonia, American fri- play of feudal power, and the magnificence in
gate, took up a position, or positions, to testify, in tenantry of a western dukedom, because this
the teeth of republicanism, its wooden walls, and, same chieftain is the party who, three or
behind thirty-two pounders, their zealous attach- four months ago, was engaged in correspon-
ment to, and reverence for, the monarch of isles dence with the committee for the relief of
and ocean. We might gather up some foot-notes destitution in the Highlands, with the view of
-a few fragments of the festival—the broken persuading them to appropriate a portion of the
vases of that deserted hall—such as how quartern money subscribed, and paid to feed and clothe
loaves, i.8.-—which is as good Latin for pluralities the destitute, towards, practically, the clearance
as i.e. for the single article-1.8., four lbs. of of his estates. He even succeeded in advising
wheaten bread rose in Greenock to 6d. per lb., as the committees of Glasgow and Edinburgh to
with the view of realising the fears and prophecies adopt a resolution which might have been wrought
of the Mark Lane Express, which otherwise for this purpose, if the London committee, backed
would never have been realised : that gunpowder by the remonstrances of the government, had not
in the seaport of the Clyde, as a marketable sub- succeeded in expunging it from the minutes. We
stance we mean, and not in its official capacity, know not even how far the Celt of Loch-Awe has
became highly exeited : that freightage of human to thank the Sassenach merchants of London,
beings from what, in the great Scottish river, is the generous Saxons—more kindly hearted than
termed the Tail of the Bank, to the eastern ex- his own chiefs, that the charity given to feed him
tremity of the navigation, became scarcer than in famine was not made the means of banishing
ever was tonnage for flour at New Orleans, on him to Canadama region, in 1847, of fever and
the Mississippi, or for wheat at Galatz, within death. But these remonstrances saved not the
the dominions of the Great Turk, or in Alexandria poor of lone and revered Iona. That graveyard
on the Nile. Then we might depict the voyage of the great, connected as it is with the holiest
of discovery undertaken by the corporations of associations regarding the faith of all the Chris-
Glasgow and of Greenock in search of the Royal tian sects of this country—the tomb of ancient
fleet ; how the Greenock gentlemen kept within kings and chiefs—the most singular historical
the river, wisely declining to encounter the spot in our dominions--is the property of one
stomachic dangers and trials of the mid channel ; individual, the Duke of Argyle. When the Lords
or how their Glasgow superiors, being more of Lorn were stripped of their broad lands, Iona
loyally bent, proceeded with all the ardour of Sir was cast into the general forfeiture, although it
John Ross or Columbus, and were ultimately had been neutral ground-common to all the island
successful in discovering the Royal yacht and chiefs, and once the resting-place of Scotch, Norwe-

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