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luxuriance-roses, lavender, sage, balm (for tea), rosemary, pinks and wallflowers, onions and jessamine, in most republican and indiscriminate order. This farm-house and garden are within a hundred yards of the stile of which I spoke, leading from the large pasture-field into a smaller one, divided by a hedge of hawthorn and blackthorn; and near this stile, on the further side, there runs a tale that primroses may often be found, and occasionally the blue sweet violet on the grassy hedge-bank.

I do not know whether it was on a holiday granted by the masters, or a holiday seized in right of nature and her beautiful spring-time by the workmen; but one afternoon-now ten or a dozen years ago-these fields were much thronged. It was an early

ever, held themselves aloof, not in a shy, but rather in an independent way, assuming an indifferent manner to the noisy wit or obstreperous compliments of the lads. Here and there came a sober, quiet couple, either whispering lovers, or husband and wife, as the case might be; and if the latter, they were seldom unencumbered by an infant, carried for the most part by the father, while occasionally even three or four little toddlers had been carried or dragged thus far in order that the whole family might enjoy the delicious May afternoon together.

TORY.

MRS. GASKELL

[HENRY ST. JOHN, Viscount Bolingbroke (1678-1751,) an English author and statesman, was noted for the in

May evening the April of the poets; for ON THE STUDY AND USE OF HISheavy showers had fallen all the morning, and the round, soft white clouds which were blown by a west wind over the dark-blue sky, were sometimes varied by one blacker and more threatening. The softness of the day tempted forth the young green leaves, which almost visibly fluttered into life; and the willows, which that morning had had only a brown reflection in the water below, were now of that tender gray-green which blends so delicately with the spring harmony

of colours.

Groups of merry, and somewhat loudtalking girls, whose ages might range from twelve to twenty, came by with a buoyant step. They were most of them factory girls, and wore the usual out-of-doors dress of that particular class of maidens-namely, a shawl, which at mid-day, or in fine weather, was allowed to be merely a shawl, but towards evening, or if the day were chilly, became a sort of Spanish mantilla or Scotch plaid, and was brought over the head and hung loosely down, or was pinned under the chin in no unpicturesque fashion. Their faces were not remarkable for beauty; in deed, they were below the average, with two exceptions; they had dark hair, neatly and classically arranged; dark eyes, but sallow complexions and irregular features. The only thing to strike a passer by was an acuteness and intelligence of countenance which has often been noticed in a manufacturing population.

one or

There were also numbers of boys, or rath er young men, rambling among these fields, ready to bandy jokes with any one, and particularly ready to enter into conversation with the girls, who, how

genuity and pleasing flow of his literary compositions and exerted considerable influence in the first half of the eighteenth century, although his writings are now but little read.]

The love of history seems inseparable from human nature, because it seems inseparable from self-love. The same principle in this instance carries us forward and backward, to future and to past ages. We imagine that the things which affect us, must affect posterity: this sentiment runs through mankind from Cæsar down to the parish-clerk in Pope's Miscellany. We are fond of preserving, as far as it is in our frail power, the memory of our own adventures, of those of our own time, and of those that preceded it. Rude heaps of stones have been raised, and ruder hymns have been composed, for this purpose, by nations who had not yet the use of arts and letters. To go no farther back, the triumphs of Odin were celebrated in Runic songs, and the feats of our British ancestors were recorded in those of their bards. The savages of America have the same custom at this day: and long historical ballads of their huntings and their wars are sung at all their festivals. There is no need of saying how this passion grows, among civilized nations, in proportion to the means of gratifying it: but let us observe that the same principle of nature directs us as strong. ly, and more generally as well as more early, to indulge our own curiosity, instead of preparing to gratify that of others. The child

hearkens with delight to the tales of his nurse he learns to read, and he devours with eagerness fabulous legends and novels: in riper years he applies himself to history, or to that which he takes for history, to authorized romance: and, even in age, the desire of knowing what has happened to other men yields to the desire alone of relating what has happened to ourselves. Thus history, true or false, speaks to our passions always. What pity it is, my lord, that even the best should speak to our un derstandings so seldom? That it does so, we have none to blame but ourselves. Nature has done her part. She has opened this study to every man who can read and think and what she has made the most agreeable, reason can make the most useful, application of our minds. But if we consult our reason, we shall be far from following the examples of our fellow-creatures, in this as in most other cases, who are so proud of being rational. We shall neither read to soothe our indolence, nor to gratify our vanity as little shall we content ourselves to drudge like grammarians and critics, that others may be able to study with greater ease and profit, like philosophers and statesmen; as little shall we affect the slender merit of becoming great scholars at the expense of groping all our lives in the dark mazes of antiquity. All these mistake the true drift of study and the true use of history. Nature gave us curiosity to excite the industry of our minds; but she never intended it should be made the principal, much less the sole object of their application. The true and proper object of this application is a constant improvement in private and in public virtue. An application to any study that tends neither directly nor indirectly to make us better men and better citizens, is at best but a specious and ingenious sort of idleness, to use an expression of Tillotson: and the knowledge we acquire by it is a creditable kind of ignorance, nothing more. This creditable kind of ignorance, is, in my opinion, the whole benefit which the generality of men, even of the most learned, reap from the study of history: and yet the study of history seems to me, of all other, the most proper to train us up to private and public virtue.

Your lordship may very well be ready by this time, and after so much bold censure on my part, to ask me what then is the true use of history? in what it may serve to make us better and wiser? and what method is to

obscure

be pursued in the study of it for attaining these great ends? I will answer you by quoting what I have read somewhere or other, in Dionysius Halicarnassensis, I think, that history is philosophy teaching by examples. We need but to cast our eyes on the world, and we shall see the daily force of example: we need but to turn them inward, and we shall soon discover why example has this force. "Pauci prudentia," says Tacitus, "honesta ab deterioribus, utilia ab noxiis discernunt: plures aliorum eventis docentur." Such is the imperfection of human understanding, such the frail temper of our minds, that abstract or general propositions, though ever so true, appear or doubtful to us very often, till they are explained by examples; and that the wisest lessons in favour of virtue go but a little way to convince the judgment and determine the will, unless they are enforced by the same means; and we are obliged to apply to our selves what we see may happen to other men. Instructions by precept have the further disadvantage of coming on the authority of others, and frequently require a long deduction of reasoning. "Homines amplius oculis quam oribus credunt: longum iter est per præcepta, breve et efficax per exempla." The reason of this judgment, which I quote from one of Seneca's epistles in confirmation of my own opinion, rests, I think, on this; that when examples are pointed out to us, there is a kind of appeal, with which we are flattered, made to our senses, as well as our understandings. The instruction comes then upon our own authority: we frame the precept after our own experience, and yield to fact when we resist speculation. But this is not the only advantage of instruction by example; for example appeals not to our un derstanding alone, but to our passions likewise. Example assuages these or animates them; sets passion on the side of judgment, and makes the whole man of a piece; which is more than the strongest reasoning and the clearest demonstration can do; and thus forming habits by repetition, example secures the observance of those precepts which example insinuated. Is it not Pliny, my lord, who says that the gentlest, he should have added the most effectual way of commanding, is by example? "Mitius jubetur exemplo." The harshest orders are softened by example, and tyranny itself becomes persuasive. What pity it is, that so few princes have learned this way of commanding. But again: the force of example is not confined

genius. Genius is preferable to the other two; but I will wish to find the three together: for how great soever a genius may be, and how much soever he may acquire new light and heat, as he proceeds in his rapid course, certain it is that he will never shine with the full lustre, nor shed the full influence he is capable of, unless to his own experience he adds the experience of other men and other ages.

Genius, without the improvement, at least of experience, is what comets once were thought to be, a blazing meteor irregular in his course, and dangerous in his approach; of no use to any system, and able to destroy any. Mere sons of earth, if they have ex

to those alone, who pass immediately under our sight: the examples that memory sug gests, have the same effect in their degree, and a habit of recalling them will soon produce the habit of imitating them. In the same epistle, from whence I cited a passage just now, Seneca says that Cleanthes had never become so perfect a copy of Zeno, if he had not passed his life with him; that Plato, Aristotle, and the other philosophers of that school, profited more by the example, than by the discourse of Socrates. (But here, by the way, Seneca mistook; for Socrates died two years according to some, and four years according to others, before the birth of Aristotle: and his mistake might come from the inaccuracy of those who col-perience without any knowledge of the his lected for him, as Erasmus observes, after tory of the world, are but half scholars in the Quintilian, in his judgment on Seneca.) science of mankind. And if they are con But be this, which was scarcely worth a pa- versant in history without experience, they renthesis, as it will; he adds that Metrodorus, are worse than ignorant; they are pedants, Hermachus, and Polyænus, men of great always incapable, sometimes meddling and note, were formed by living under the same presuming. The man who has all three, is roof with Epicurus, not by frequenting his an honour to his country and a public school. These are instances of the force of blessing. immediate example. But your lordship knows that the citizens of Rome placed the images of their ancestors in the vestibules of their houses: so that, whenever they went in or out, these venerable bustoes met their eyes, and recalled the glorious actions of the dead to fire the living, to excite them to imitate and even to emulate their great forefathers. The success answered the design. The virtue of one generation was transfused, by the magic of example into several: and a spirit of heroism was maintained through many ages of the commonwealth. Now these are so many instances of the force of remote example; and from all these instances we may conclude, that examples of both kinds are necessary.

The school of example, my lord, is the world and the masters of this school are history and experience. I am far from contending that the former is preferable to the latter. I think upon the whole otherwise : but this I say, that the former is absolutely necessary to prepare us for the latter, and to accompany us while we are under the discipline of the latter, that is through the whole course of our lives. No doubt some few men may be quoted, to whom Nature gave what art and industry can give to no man. such examples will prove nothing against me, because I admit that the study of history, without experience, is insufficient; but assert, that experience itself is so without

But

LORD BOLINGBROKE

OLD SONGS.

[IN poetry, as in prose fiction, ladies crowd the arena, competitors is MISS ELIZA Cook, (born in Southwark, and contend for the highest prizes. Among other fair London, about 1818) published a volume of miscella neous poems, entitled " Melaia, and other Poems."

A

great number of small pieces have also been contribu ted by Miss Cook to periodical works; and in 1849 she established a weekly periodical, "Eliza Cook's Jour nal," which enjoyed considerable popularity from 1849 until 1854, when ill health compelled Miss Cook to give it up. In 1864 she published a second volume of

poems, "New Echoes, &c. ;" and the same year a pen

sion was settled on the authoreas. She died in 1889.]

Old songs! old songs!-what heaps I knew,
From "Chevy Chase" to " Black-eyed Sue;"
From "Flow, thou regal purple stream,"
To Rousseau's melancholy “Dream!”
I loved the pensive "Cabin-boy,"
With earnest truth and real joy;
My warmest feelings wander back

To greet "Tom Bowling" and “Poor Jack;*
And oh, "Will Watch, the smuggler bold,"
My plighted troth thou'lt ever hold.
I doted on the "Auld Scots' Sonnet,"
As though I'd worn the plaid and bonnet;

I went abroad with "Sandy's Ghost,"

I stood with Bannockburn's brave host,

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And proudly tossed my curly head
With "Scots wha hae wi' Wallace bled!"
I shouted "Coming through the rye
With restless step and sparkling eye,
And chased away the passing frown,
With "Bonny ran the burnie down."

Old songs! old songs!-my brain has lost
Much that it gained with pain and cost.
I have forgotten all the rules

Of Murray's books and Trimmer's schools; Detested figures-how I hate

The mere remembrance of a slate!

How have I cast from woman's thought
Much goodly lore the girl was taught;
But not a word has passed away
Of" Rest thee, babe," or "Robin Gray."
The ballad still is breathing round,
But other voices yield the sound;
Strangers possess the household room;
The mother lieth in the tomb;

And the blithe boy that praised her song
Sleeping as soundly and as long.

Old songs! old songs!-I should not sigh;
Joys of the earth on earth must die;
But spectral forms will sometimes start
Within the caverns of the heart,
Haunting the lone and darkened cell
Where, warm in life, they used to dwell.
Hope, youth, love, home-each human tie
That binds we know not how or why-
All, all that to the soul belongs
Is closely mingled with "Old Songs."

THE OLD ARM-CHAIR.

I love it, I love it! and who shall dare

To chide me for loving that old arm chair?

I've treasured it long as a sainted prize,

My idol was shattered, my earth star fled! And I learned how much the heart can bear, When I saw her die in her old arm-chair.

"T is past, 't is past! but I gaze on it now,
With quivering breath and throbbing brow;
'T was there she nursed me, 't was there she died,
And memory flows with lava tide.

Say it is folly and deem me weak,
Whilst scalding drops start down my cheek;
But I love it, I love it, and cannot tear
My soul from a mother's old arm-chair.

ELIZA COOK

FROM "THE BLESSED DAMOZEL."

[DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI, an English artist, one of the originators of what is termed the Pre-Raphaelite style of art, or imitation of the early Italian painters, with their vivid colours, minute details, and careful finish, is known also as a poet and translator. In 1861 Mr. Rossetti published "The Early Italian Poets from Ciullo d'Alcamo to Dante Alighieri (1100-1200-1300), in the original metres, together with Dante's Vita Nuova," In 1870 he issued a volume of "Poems," some of which were early productions printed in periodical works. Nearly all of them are in form and colour, subject and style of treatment, similar to the Pre-Raphaelite pictures. The first relates the thoughts and musings of a maiden in heaven while waiting the arrival of her lover from the land of the living. He died in 1882.]

The blessed damozel leaned out

From the gold bar of heaven;
Her eyes were deeper than the depth
Of waters stilled at even;

She had three lilies in her hand,

And the stars in her hair were seven.

I've bedewed it with tears, I've embalmed it with sighs. Her robe ungirt from clasp to hem,

"Tis bound by a thousand bands to my heart;
Not a tie will break, not a link will start;
Would you know the spell ?-a mother sat there!
And a sacred thing is that old arm-chair.

In childhood's hour I lingered near
The hallowed seat with listening ear;
And gentle words that mother would give
To fit me to die, and teach me to live.
She told me that shame would never betide,
With truth for my creed, and God for my guide;
She taught me to lisp my earliest prayer,
As I knelt beside that old arm-chair.

I sat and watched her many a day,

When her eye grew dim, and her locks were gray;
And I almost worshipped her when she smiled,
And turned from her Bible to bless her child.
fears rolled on, but the last one sped,—

Nor wrought flowers did adorn, But a white rose of Mary's gift

For service, meetly worn; And her hair hanging down her back, Was yellow like ripe corn.

It was the rampart of God's house
That she was standing on,
By God built over the starry depth,
The which is space begun,
So high that looking downward thence,
She scarce could see the sun.

It lies in heaven, across the flood
Of ether like a bridge,
Beneath the tides of day and night,
With flame and darkness ridge,
The void, as low as where this earth
Spins like a fretful midge.

Heard hardly some of her new friends

Amid their loving games,
Spake evermore among themselves

Their virginal chaste names:
And the souls mounting up to God,
Went by her like thin flames.

And still she bowed herself, and stooped
Out of the circling charm,

Until her bosom must have made

The bar she leaned on warm,

And the lilies lay as if asleep,
Along her bended arm.

From the fixed place of heaven she saw
Time like a pulse shake fierce

Through all the worlds.

Her gaze still strove

Within the gulf to pierce

Its path; and now she spoke as when
The stars sang in their spheres.

DISTINCTION BETWEEN POWER

AND ACTIVITY.

FROM THE SYSTEM OF PHRENOLOGY.

able from quickness. The balance-whee of a watch moves with much rapidity, but so slight is its impetus, that a hair would suffice to stop it; the beam of a steam-engine progresses slowly and massively through space, but its energy is prodigiously great.

In muscular action these qualities are recognized with equal facility as different. The greyhound bounds over hill and dale with animated agility; but a slight obstacle would counterbalance his momentum, and arrest his progress. The elephant, on the other hand, rolls slowly and heavily along; but the impetus of his motion would sweep away an impediment sufficient to resist fifty greyhounds at the summit of their speed.

In mental manifestations, considered apart from organization,-the distinction between energy and vivacity is equally palpable. On the stage, Mrs. Šiddons and Mr. John Kemble were remarkable for the solemn deliberation of their manner, both in declamation and in action, and yet they were splendidly gifted with energy. They carried captive at once the sympathies and the understanding of the audience, and made every man feel his faculties expanding, and

[GEORGE COMBE, (1788-1858). Mr. Combe was a writer his whole mind becoming greater under the

to the Signet in Edinburgh, but strongly attached to literary and philosophical pursuits. He was much respected by his fellow-citizens, and was known over Europe and America for his speculations in mental science, &c. An interesting Life of Mr. Combe, by Charles Gibbon, was published in 1878. His chief works are

“Essay on Phrenology," 1819; "The Constitution of Man," 1828; "System of Phrenology," 1836; "Notes on the United States of America," three vols., 1841; "Phrenology applied to Painting and Sculpture;" and pamphlets on the "Relation between Science and Religion," on Capital Pun ishments," on "National Education," the "Currency Question," etc.]

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As commonly employed, the word power is synonymous with strength, or much power, instead of denoting mere capacity, whether much or little, to act; while by activity is usually understood much quickness of action, and great proneness to act. As it is desirable, however, to avoid every chance of ambiguity, I shall employ the words power and activity in the sense first before explained; and to high degrees of power I shall apply the terms energy, intensity, strength, or vigour; while to great activity I shall apply the terms vivacity, agility, rapidity, or quickness.

In physics, strength is quite distinguish

influence of their power. Other performers, again, are remarkable for agility of action and elocution, who, nevertheless, are felt to be feeble and ineffective in rousing an audience to emotion. Vivacity is their distinguishing attribute, with an absence of vigour. At the bar, in the pulpit, and in the senate, the same distinction prevails. Many members of the learned professions display great fluency of elocution and felicity of illustration, surprising us with the quickness of their parts, who, nevertheless, are felt to be neither impressive nor profound. They exhibit acuteness without depth, and ingenuity without comprehensiveness of understand. ing. This also proceeds from vivacity with little energy. There are other public speak ers, again, who open heavily in debatetheir faculties acting slowly but deeply, like the first heave of a mountain wave. Their words fall like minute-guns upon the ear, and to the superficial they appear about to terminate ere they have begun their efforts. But even their first accent is one of power; it rouses and arrests attention; their very pauses are expressive, and indicate gathering energy to be embodied in the sentence that is to come. When fairly animated. they are impetuous as the torrent, brilliant

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