« FöregåendeFortsätt »
green, * 4 glass, 6 green, * 4 times; nature. She would fain by tender per4 glass +
suasion and remonstrance have withdrawn 56th Round. + 2 green, 1 steel, 3 him from the hazards of a military life. white, 3 steel, 3 green, * 4 glass, 6 green, But his preference for the profession of * 4 times , 4 glass.
his father was uncontrollable; and so pre57th Round.- + 2 green, 4 steel, 7 cocious were his belligerent tastes, that green, * 2 glass, 8 green, * 4 times; 2 he was engaged in three duels, ere he glass, 1 green +
attained the stature of a man. In one of Do one round of Sc with the green, and these he received a deep wound in the 22 stitches more; this will be the proper face, whose scar he bore to his grave. He centre of one side of the purse, and will first served as a cadet, and at the early throw the white spots equally on both sides age of fourteen, he was promoted to an of the beads. Join on the white silk with ensign's commission in a Scottish regibeads threaded on, and work from this ment engaged in the war with Holland. centre backwards and forwards thus.
During the battle of Ramillies, in the 1st Round. --5 Ch, (with a bead dropped reign of Queen Anne, he performed many on every one,) Miss 3, Sc in the fourth feats of valour. While rallying his men
2nd and all succeeding Rounds.-5 Ch, Sc to a desperate attack on the French, who under chain of last row. At the end, were posted in the church-yard of Rsafter Sc under the last loop, 5 Ch, Te to millies, and while the most blasphemous make the line even. Do about 16 rows of oaths trembled on his tongue, he received this work, and sew on the top, the slip a bullet in his mouth, which passed out being in the middle of one side. Join up through his neck, and in a state of rackthe end with a row of Sc, taking two ing anguish lay on the field of battle the stitches together. Add the fringe, which I whole night, covered with his own blood, may be either bought or made.
and surrounded by the dying. But neither the tortures of a wound, inflamed by ne
glect and improper treatment, nor the deCOLONEL JAMES GARDINER.
pression of sickness, nor yet his deliverA SUDDEN and permanent change from ance, impressed his heart, or awakened it wrong principles and habits to their oppo- to reflection. At his recovery he returned! site, has been seldom more strongly ex- to his vices, and plunged into every course hibited than in the case of the subject of of shameless dissipation. Yet in this life this sketch. He was a native of Linlith- of licentiousness he realized no happiness; gowshire, Scotland, and born on the 10th and when his gay friends were once conof January, 1688. The military life to gratulating him on his successes and fewhich he was destined, early surrounded licity, he happened to cast his eyes upon him with its temptations, and oppressed a dog that entered the room, and could not him by its bereavements. His father fell forbear groaning inwardly, and wishing during a long campaign in Germany; an Oh, that I were that dog!” uncle at the battle of Steinkirk; and his In this course he continued till past the eldest brother, at the siege of Namur, on thirtieth year of his age, when he was rethe day that he completed his sixteenth claimed by a wonderful interposition of year.
Divine power. In the midst of a career The mother of James Gardiner was a l of vice, his mind became so suddenly and woman of a pious and tender spirit. Un- deeply impressed, that he thought he saw der the weight of her afflictions, she strove, before his eyes a representation of the with peculiar earnestness, to cultivate the crucified Saviour, and heard his voice exintellect of her son, and to impress his postulating with him. The deep amazeheart with religious sensibilities. She ment of his soul, was succeeded by several placed him at the best school in Linlith-days and nights of extreme horror, till, at gow, where his progress in study, especially length, as if in answer to agonizing cries in the languages, was gratifying to his and prayers, the day-spring of salvation teachers and to herself. Yet his feelings dawned from on high. An entire change received no upward direction, and her was wrought in his views, affections, and pious precepts took no root in his volatile | propensities; and he who was once blind
through the enmity of sin; saw clearly. His letters evince those fervent strains This perceptible alteration of his beha- of piety to which the heart gives the keyviour soon excited the raillery of his tone. The disturbed state of his beloved former companions, which he sustained country, was a frequent theme of his corwith calmness, and told them of his unal. | respondence. terable determination to serve the Lord. “I am daily offering my prayers,” he
At his return from Paris to London, says, “ for this sinful land of ours, over knowing that he must encounter the ridi- which the judgments of God seem so to cule of those with whom he had once be gathering, My strength is sometimes associated in sin, he requested to meet exhausted wita the strong crying and them on a social party at the house of a tears' that I pour out before Him, so friend. During dinner he was the object that I am scarcely able to stand, when I of their sharpest witticisms, to which he rise from my knees." made little reply ; but when the cloth was The labours of this true patriot and removed, he entreated their hearing, while Christian, were closed by that violent death he recounted the cause of his visible which often awaits those who choose the alteration, the thorough change of his life of a soldier. He fell at the battle of principles and affections, and the peace Preston-Pans, September 21st, 1745, at and serenity which he enjoyed, to which the head of his regiment. At the comhe was before a stranger. They listened mencement of the action, he received two to this manly and rational defence with the severe gun-shot wounds, which he disredeepest astonishment; and the master of garded, and continued to animate his men the house rising, said—“Come, let us by his voice and example. But a fierce call another cause. We thought this man Highlander, with a scythe, severed his mad, and he is in good earnest, proving right arm from his body, and dragged him that we are so." When his friends per- from his horse, while another rushing on ceived him still cheerful and conversable, | him with a Lochaber axe, terminated his they no longer 'cavilled at his opinions, existence. As he lay on the earth expirbut seemed to wish to share his happiness, ing, he elevated the arm that was left, and and to own him as a superior being. gave signal for his men to retreat, saying
None ever knew better how to blend'the in faint tones to a chief of the opposite graceful and amiable discharge of the party, who advanced to gaze upon him duties of life with the strict devotion of a You fight for an earthly crown, I go to Christian. He always rose so early as to receive a heavenly one." be able to devote two hours to prayer,
It seems scarcely possible for two indi. meditation and praise, in which he ac- viduals to differ more from each other, thar quired an uncommon fervency, and | did this distinguished man from himself at realized great delight.
various periods of life. And seldom has If the care and perplexity incidental the infusion of a hallowed principle afto a life in camps, demanded his atten- forded more visible protection from the tion at an unusually early hour, he would evils of a profession at variance with the rise proportionably early, that his reli peaceful requisitions of the Gospel; or gious duties might not be curtailed. more triumphantly sustained amid the
Communion with God gave vigour to terrors of an agonizing death. his efforts, and sublimated his social feelings and affections. When he received a letter from a friend, it was his habit to ABSENCE.-The heart is perhaps never retire and pray for him; and when he so sensible of happiness as after a short had charge of a family, the morning and separation from the object of its affections. evening orisons were never omitted. So If it has been attended with peculiar ciranxious was he that the voice of prayer cumstances of distress or danger, every and praise should ever duly arise from misery that has been exnerienced, tends, his household altar, that he engaged a by the force of contrast, to increase declergyman as a constant resident to officiate light, and gives to the pleasure of reunion during his absence, and to attend to the an inexpressible degree of tenderness.-instruction of his children.
| Alas for her! for faster falls the snow,
i And every limb grows stiff with cold; WE ARE BUT TWO)--the others sleep
That rosary once woke her smile, which now Through death's untroubled night;
Her frozen fingers hardly hold. We are but two--0, let us keep
If bruised beneath so many woes, her heart The link that binds us bright.
By pity still sustain'd may be, Heart leaps to heart--the sacred flood
Lest even her faith in heaven itself depart,
Ah! give the blind one charity.
PAUSE not to dream of the future before us: Long be her love repaid ;
Pause not to weep the wild cares that come o'er us; In the same cradle we were rock'd
Hark! how creation's deep, musical chorus, Round the same hearth we play'd.
Unintermitting, goes up into heaven!
Never the ocean wave falters in flowing;
Never the little seed stops in its growing:
More and more richly the rose-heart keeps Lit up so long ago.
Till from its nourishing stem it is riven. WE ARE BUT TWO--be that the band
“ Labour is worship!"-the robin is singing:. To hold us till we die;
“ Labour is worship!"—the wild bee is ringing: Shoulder to shoulder let us stand,
Listen! that eloquent whisper, unspringing. Till side by side we lie.
Speaks to thy soul from out Nature's great
heart. From the dark cloud flows the life-giving shower:
From the rough sod blows the soft-breath THE BLIND WOMAN.
From the small insect, the rich coral bower: (From the French of Beranger.)
Only man, in the plan, shrinks from his part. Ir snows, it snows, but on the pavement still
Labour is life!-'Tis the still water faileth; She kneels and prays, nor lifts her head;
Idleness ever despaireth, bewaileth; Beneath her rags through which the blast blows
Keep the watch wound, for the dark rust shrill.
assaileth! Shivering she kneels, and waits for bread.
Flowers droop and die in the stillness of noon. Hither each morn she gropes her weary way,
Labour is glory!--the flying cloud lightens; Winter and summer, there is she.
Only the waving wing changes and brightens; Blind is the wretched creature! well-a-day!
Idle hearts only the dark future frightens: Ah! give the blind one charity!
Play the sweet keys, wouldst thou keep them Ah! once far different did that form appear;
in tune. That sunken cheek, that colour wan,
Labour is rest-from the sorrows that greet us; The pride of thronged theatres, to hear
Rest from all petty vexations that meet us ; Her voice enraptured Paris ran;
Rest from sin promptings that ever entreat us: In smiles or tears before her beauty's shrine,
Rest from world-syrens that lure us to ill. . Which of us has not bow'd the knee?
Work-and pure slumbers shall wait on thy Who owes not to her charins some dreams divine?
pillow; Ah! give the blind one charity !
Work -thou shalt ride over care's coming billo How oft when from the crowded spectacle, Lie not down wearied 'neath woe's weeping Homeward her rapid coursers flew;
willow! Admiring crowds would on her footsteps dwell, Work with a stout heart and resolute will! And loud huzzas her path pursue,
| Droop not though shame, sin and anguish are To hand her from the glittering car, that bore
round thee! Her home to scenes of mirth and glee,
| Bravely fling off the cold chain that hath bound How many rivals throng'd around her door
thee! Ah! give the blind one charity.
Look to yon pure heaven, smiling beyond thee! When all the arts to her their homage paid,
Rest not content in thy darkness-a clod! How splendid was her gay abode;
Work-for some good,-be it ever so slowly! What mirrors, marbles, bronzes, were display'd, Cherish some flower,-be it ever so lowly! Tributes by love on love bestow'd :
Labour! All labour is noble and holy; How duly did the muse her banquets gild,
Let thy great deeds be thy prayer to thy God! Faithful to her prosperity : In every palace will the swallow build !
ON FRIENDS AND FOES. Ah! give the poor one charity.
BY AN OLD WRITER. But sad reverse-sudden disease appears;
Two painters, friend and foe, once went about Her eyes are quench'd, her voice is gone,
To paint Antigones, whose one eye was out, And here, forlorn and poor, for twenty years, Which t'one to show, and t'other for to hide, The blind one kneels and begs alone.
That turn'd his blind, and this his better, side. Who once so prompt her generous aid to lend ? Just so twixt friends and foes men are exprest,
What hand more liberal, frank, and free, By halves set forth, whilst they conceal the rest; Than that she scarcely ventures to extend? None, as their friends or foes, depaint them would, Ah! give the poor one charity!
| Being ever half so bad, or half so good.
EXHIBITION FANCY AND many specimens of wood-carving exhibited, NEEDLEWORK.
on account of our space, and not from any
demerits in the work itself. WOOD CARVINGS.
The beautiful specimens of wood-carving " Where'er one turns,
produced by Mr.W. G. Rogers, 10, Carlisle. Vase, with rich vase, with picture vies, And flower-wreaths, carved of wood, half cheat | street, Soho,. (C. 30, No. 74), who follows
the wondering eyes.”—John HOLLAND. the style of that great wood-carver GrinThe specimens of wood carving exhibited | ling Gibbons, are deserving of particular in the Crystal Palace were collectively of notice, and we feel delighted at being able the most elaborate and superior description to present our readers with the engraving that we have ever witnessed. Individually, of the cradle carved for his Royal High many of them displayed great skill, inven ness the Prince of Wales, which some of tiveness, and labour in production, but the matrons of England declared to be the certainly some designs were misplaced, most interesting thing of its class in the very inappropriate, or even absurd. It Exhibition : in this we must beg to differ. would be invidious to point out these The elegant designs of his son, W. Harry designs particularly, we will therefore only Rogers, have been faithfully, and we may allude to them generally.
well add, gracefully carried out by Mr. Wood carving is undoubtedly intended | Rogers, in box-wood, satin-wood, lime-tree as a means of ornamenting our furniture ; &c. His brackets in box-wood, especially of destroying the sameness of surface that one with a canopy intended as a receptacle would otherwise often be presented to us; for a thermometer, and the grotesque and of elevating our tastes. That these masks, are novel and effective. The objects are not always kept in view must group of fish, shells, sea-weeds and net, be apparent to any ordinary observer. and the pheasant and wood-cock hung up Nature is distorted, her uses perverted, with fruit and flowers which were exhibited, and all kinds of elaborate fan
evinced masterly touches, and fully suspropriate devices introduced for the sake tained the character of Mr. W. G. Rogers. of novelty and fashion; many exhibitors We had almost omitted to mention his appeared to aim more at producing a strik- beautiful lime-tree frame executed in the ing effect. than in restricting themselves style of Gibbons, abounding with passionto the legitimate uses of wood-carving, fowers, roses, poppies, tulips, wheat, pears, introducing figures and objects quite | melons and other kinds of fruit and flowers, foreign to the use of the object decorated. finished with Mr. Rogers' usual style, and
We are not of that class of persons who mounted upon a polished walnut - wood assert that wood-carving occupies as high moulding ; but amid such a profusion as a position in the arts as sculpture: it does he exhibited in the shape of miniature not; it cannot. The positions are so frames, trophy, crozier head, spoons, salttotally different that it would be absurd to cellars, brackets, cup, &c., it is difficult to argue the matter, unless it be to claim for select. sculpture the preference. The finest | The Royal Cradle, which is 2 feet wide, wood - carving that was ever produced 2 feet 10 inches long, and of proportionate never pourtrayed that roundvess and height, was executed by Mr. Rogers, in smoothness of surface peculiar to the Turkey box-wood, from designs by his son human figure, that is obtained by employ. | W. H. Rogers, and exhibited by her ing marble. The former has, independent Majesty in C. 30. No. 353. It is symof its colour, a coarse grain that destroys bolical of the union of the Royal House the illusion, however fine the wood ema of England with that of Saxe-Coburg and ployed may be, and however great the Gotha, and is thus described in the official skill of the carver. We object to that | catalogue :-profuseness of ornamentation adopted by “One end exhibits in the centre the some exhibitors, because the usefulness of armorial bearings of Her Majesty the the article decorated becomes subservient Queen, surrounded by masses of foliage, to ornament, and its details serve as so natural flowers, and birds; on the rocker, many nooks for dust to rest in.
beneath, is seen the head of Nox,' reWe must omit to mention particularly presented as a beautiful sleeping female,