These few words His mind gives back the various forms of things, To great and small disturbances exposed." More had she said- but sportive shouts were heard ; And each resigned the oar which he had seized. While thitherward we bend our course; or while "Turn where we may," said I, "we cannot err They ceased not to surround us; change of place, Ah! that such beauty, varying in the light By words, nor by the pencil's silent skill; And unsought pleasures springing up by chance; The same should be continued to its close. Such product, and such pastime did the place In a low voice, yet careless who might hear, Whose ends are gained? Behold an emblem here And, in this unpremeditated slight Of that which is no longer needed, see Soft heath this elevated spot supplied, And choice of moss-clad stones, whereon we couched The general aspect of the scene; but each Scattered through half the circle of the sky; 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 To the infirmity of mortal sense Of thy paternal splendours, and the pomp Of those who fill thy courts in highest heaven, From thy empyreal Throne, the elect of Earth - Father of Good! this prayer in bounty grant, "So fare the many; and the thoughtful few, A peaceable dominion, wide as earth, Whom morning wakes, among sweet dews and flowers Fulfilled, the hope accomplished; and thy praise Be sung with transport and unceasing joy. 'Once," and with mild demeanour, as he spake, His beaming eye that had been raised to Heaven, Then, in the bosom of yon mountain cove, The thing that hath been as the thing that is, And full assemblage of a barbarous Host; - 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 Upon 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, Called to such office by the peaceful sound Of 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 This Vesper service closed, without delay, In twinkling lustre, ere the Boat attained To enfeebled Power, From this communion with uninjured Minds, What renovation had been brought; and wha 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 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, of 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. Note 2, p. 572. "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; cùm ex celsissimâ rupe speculabundus ad oram maris Mediterranei, hinc æquor cæruleum, illine tractus Alpinos prospexi; nihil quidem magis dispar aut dissimile, nec in suo genere, magis egregium et singulare. Hoc theatrum ego facilè prætulerim Romanis cunctis, Græcisve; atque id quod natura hic spectandum exhibet, scenicis ludis omnibus aut amphitheatri certaminibus. Nihil hic elegans aut venustum, sed ingens et magnificum, et quod placet magnitudine suâ et quâdam specie immensitatis. Hir.c intuebar maris æquabilem superficiem, usque et usque diffusam, quantum maximùm oculorum acies ferri potuit; illinc disruptissimam terræ faciem, et vastas moles variè elevatas aut epressas, erectas, propendentes, 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. reclinatas, coacervatas, omni situ inæquali et turbido. | But let the winds of passion swell, and straightway Placuit, ex hac parte, Naturæ unitas et simplicitas, et inexhausta quædam planities; ex altera, multiformis confusio magnorum corporum, et insanæ 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 mibi placebat illa, quâ sedebam, rupes; erat maxima et altissima, et quâ 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 tèrræ motu aliquo, aut fulmine, divulsa. "Ima pars rupis erat cava, recessusque habuit, et saxeos specus, euntes in vacuum montem; sive naturâ pridem factos, sive exesos mari, et undarum crebris ictibus: In hos enim cum impetu ruebant et fragore, æestuantis maris fluctus; quos iterum spumantes reddidit antrum, et quasi ab imo ventre evomuit. "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 become 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. "Dextrum latus montis erat præruptum, aspero saxo et nudâ caute; sinistrum non adeò neglexerat Natura, "Of Mississippi, or that Northern Stream." arboribus utpote ornatum: et prope pedem montis rivus "A man is supposed to improve by going out into limpidæ aquæ prorupit; qui cùm vicinam vallem irri- the World, by visiting London. Artificial man does ; gaverat, lento motu serpens, et per varios mæandros, he extends with his sphere; but, alas! that sphere is quasi ad protrahendam vitam, in magno mari absorptus microscopic; it is formed of minutiæ, and he surrenders subito periit. Denique in summo vertice promontorii, his genuine vision to the artist, in order to embrace it commodè eminebat saxum, cui insidebam contempla-in his ken.. His bodily senses grow acute, even to bundus. Vale augusta sedes, Rege digna: Augusta rupes, semper mihi memoranda!" P. 89. Telluris Theoria sacra, &c. Editio secunda. Note 3, p. 578. "Whate'er Abstraction furnished for my needs Or purposes;" 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 pro ["It seems a paradox only to the unthinking, and it is 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 imme-duced fruit of this wilderness, and each progeny of diate impulses to action. At the commencement of the French Revolution, in the remotest villages every tongue was employed in echoing and enforcing the almost geometrical abstractions of the physiocratic politicians and economists. The public roads were crowded with armned enthusiasts disputing on the inalienable sovereignty of the people, the imprescriptible laws of the pure reason, and the universal constitution, which, as rising out of the nature and rights of man as man, all nations alike were under the obligation. 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. 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. |