A savage shore receives thy tread; The wild boughs wave above thy head, Strange is thine aspect to their eyes, Thy strength alone is in thy words; The spirit of those barbarous hordes But, oh! thy heart, thou home-sick man, Yet, that poor hut upon the wild, A stone beneath the tree, And souls to heaven's love reconciled, EXERCISE XXXVI. THE NEWS-BOY.- Neale. Survey the news-boy; extract him from the buzzing crowd and place him on a pedestal, while you analyze his character in its details; estimating, at the same time, the past and future operation of circumstances in educating him for mature effort in the contentions of men. Anatomize him, and 'see what breeds about his heart.' A rough study, truly, — soiled garments and patches. The youth is not precisely fitted for presentation in the drawing-room, evident though it be that his - self-possession would not desert him in the presence of an empress. Valets and body servants do not trouble themselves about him. Father and mother, brother and sister, if such there be,—have enough to do in struggling for their own existence, without attending to the details of his costume; and many a repair is the result of his own handiwork, hours stolen from needful rest. That battered hat, grown foxy by exposure, is picturesque in its proportions, not so much from careless usage as from hard service; and those ox-hide boots, embrowned and cracked, have shamed the feats of plankwalking pedestrians. Sooth to say, our hero is somewhat uncouth in his externals. That fair damsel there would scarcely covet him for a parlor pet. He would not shine amid carpet knights, nor would Titania weary Oberon with prayers to have him for her henchman. The news-boy would not weep, either, if he were to know that perfumed pride and silken delicacy thus curl her nose at him; for he would be lost and wearied in such preferment. Observe his frame, so light, yet so strong; so pliant, wiry, and enduring. No 'debile wretch' enters the ranks of these juvenile Prætorians; or if he should venture on service so far beyond his capacity, exhaustion soon removes him. Glance at the expression of his weather-beaten face, prematurely hardened into muscle. Care, courage, and resolution are in every curve of those compacted lips. The soft roundness of childhood has departed long since. That mouth knows more of the strong word, the keen retort, the wellweighed phrases of the bargainer, of cunning solicitation, and of the fierce wrangle, than of the endearing kisses of affection. It brings no memory of rosebuds. It is no poetic feature for romance to dwell upon; but a mouth of plain reality, of confirmed utilitarianism. It wreathes itself more readily into the mould of worldly intrepidity, than into the gentle dimples of early life. It is in the news-boy, as in all mankind beside, a key to the individual mysteries of our nature. The impulses, the ruling trait, are here developed; and the newsboy offers no exception to the rule. The glance of his eye is as cold, but as bright as the beaming sun of a frosty morning, which sparkles on the ice, but melts it not. Still, though self-interest and sordid calculation dwell in its depths, we find a laughing devil there, which feasts on satire and sports, like the chevaliers of old. Its jokes bite shrewdly; and the lance of his wit displays the point 'unabated,' though not envenomed.' When the newsboy turns awhile from business to the pleasures of companionship, he asks no quiet recreation. His raillery and his pleasant tricks both deal in heavy blows and heavy interchanges. Your nice, nervous sensibility finds no quarter from one whose very existence, in all its phases, is roughness. Should he hereafter learn to woo, it will be as the lion wooes his bride.' 6 EXERCISE XXXVII. THE WIDOW AND HER SON.- Mrs. Hofland. Mrs. Lewis had called on Mr. Young, an engraver, to make arrangements with him about some drawings done by her deceased husband. Her son, Ludovico,* had been recommended to Mr. Young, by a benevolent quaker, Mr. Gurney. Mr. Young, addressing Mrs. Lewis, with that respect which the human mind ever pays to the sacred form of virtue in affliction, however humble its situation in life, said, – 'In looking over these pictures, I find them in so unfinished a state, as to be worth very little money at this time, and would advise you not to part with them; as I think your son, at some future period, may finish them to advantage.' Mrs. Lewis was about to urge her necessities, when, by a motion of his hand, he entreated silence, and then proceeded to say, "This book of sketches is very valuable: I will purchase it myself, that is, if you think your son has no inclination to become an engraver; for if he has such an intention, I think it might be very beneficial to him; and I advise you to keep it for his use, also, if you are able to afford it.' 'My poor boy has no chance of gaining the necessary instruction, or he would be most happy to pursue that delightful art: we have, since our residence in London, made many inquiries, but found the terms of an apprenticeship far beyond our power; I will, therefore, most thankfully accept what you *Pronounced Loodovéeco. may be pleased to give me for these sketches, which must be `parted with.' "The terms I offer are twenty-five pounds, at this time, and twenty-five more, when the engravings I shall make from them are completed. Do you accept this, Mrs. Lewis, or more, if I find I can afford it?' 'Most thankfully, sir.' Then, madam, here is the money : I pay it you notes, as concluding it the most convenient.' in small As Mrs. Lewis took up these bills, she was observed by Mr. Gurney to put them in parcels, by which he perceived she was giving to each creditor his due; especially as, when she came to the last, she drew from her pocket the guinea he had given to Ludovico, and two shillings which she put to it; and, having done so, cast a look to heaven, full of devout gratitude, though moistened with a tear of regret, that her sensations of joy were not shared by her departed spouse. Mr. Young was a close observer: he added this trait of honesty to the many he had seen; twinkling away a tear, but with an air of affected apathy, he told Ludovico to bring him the sketches the next morning, and, shaking hands with Mr. Gurney, retired. 'I have placed thee in very good hands,' said the latter, when he was gone; for it may be many days before he regains the money he has advanced for thee. Moreover, friend Young is a most worthy man; and as I shall be absent a short time, I would have thee look to him for counsel in all things.' So saying, he arose. The benevolent countenance and generous kindness of this good man, while they excited the warmest gratitude in Ludovico, subdued his general timidity; and pressing up to him with a look of tender earnestness, he said, 'Q, sir, must you indeed go?' I must, my child, but not till I have furnished thy mother with the means of providing decent clothing for you all, agreeable to general custom in people of your profession. It is my wish that ye should go into decent mourning, such as ye were arrayed in yesterday, which I now apprehend was borrowed for the occasion.' So saying, he presented Mrs. Lewis with a bank-note of twenty pounds, and hastened out of the room, leaving the widow and her son overwhelmed with their feelings, EXERCISE XXXVIII. THE SAME SUBJECT, CONCLUDED. True to the moment Mr. Young had appointed for receiv ing the sketches he had purchased, Ludovicô, now handsomely dressed, and with a cheerful countenance, set out for his house. He was shown by the servant into a large dining-parlor, at one end of which sat Mrs. Young, who, with a smiling face, pointed to a chair near her, showing him, by a glance of her eye, that Mr. Young was engaged at the other end of the room. Just then, Ludovico perceived a boy about two years older, but not much taller, than himself, take a pen from Mr. Young, who was standing with him and an elderly gentleman, at the sideboard, on which was a parchment, that the young man signed; after which, the former, laying a number of bank-notes on the table, said, 'There, sir, is the three hundred and fifty pounds due to you, as an apprentice-fee: you will find them all right. My nephew shall come to you next Monday, as we agreed; and I hope you will find him a boy of genius.' 'I hope to find him diligent, and persevering,' said Mr. Young, in which case I will excuse the genius; for genius has, hitherto, been the plague of my life.' 'You perfectly astonish me,' said the gentleman 'That may be, sir; but if you had had half so much to do with men of genius, without thought, regularity, prudence, or management; boys of genius, who were headstrong, careless, self-willed, idle, and disorderly, as I have had, you would say as I do; that, even in a profession generally supposed to call for extraordinary genius, the qualities I have mentioned are worth the highest praise that can attach to it, ten times over; and, in fact, the highest praise of genius is this, that, in wellregulated minds, it becomes, and, in fact is, itself, a stimulus to industry.' "You hear all this, Charles,' said the uncle; and I hope you will profit by it;' so saying, they departed together. You have heard all this; likewise; and I hope you believe it,' said Mr. Young to Ludovico. 'I do, indeed, sir: it is the language of my mother.' 'Then, perhaps, you would have no objection to do as that young man has done, sign an indenture, and become my apprentice.' |