steps to the neighbouring church. Here too the humble unambitious swain approached, slow, meditatory, and dejected. Poor, yet happy and tranquil. How different to the vain, the proud, or the insolent, thought I. But these are queries that fatígue on recital. Seated in the modest building, sacred to religion, we certainly heard a very pathetic and sensible discourse, and enforced with uncommon elocution and sincerity. Seldom have I listened to a pulpit oration with more pleasure. Yet methinks the reverend gentleman (critics there will ever be in religion, morals, philosophy, and in writing) might be somewhat more liberal in his theological maxims: a too rigid enforcement of passive obedience, tends rather to produce a meanness of spirit than a true Christian meekness and candour which is amiable and dignified. Christian charity is, or ought to be, universal, beneficient, and co-equal. Personal polity ill accords with its dictates: humiliating theses may with policy and with impunity be administered to slaves and to hirelings, but to those who are sensible of the blessings of liberty, and who justly appreciate the good things of the world, a more enlarged and conciliating doctrine is necessary. To men of education and of knowledge, a cold abstract theology has few charms. These are, however, truths ably inculcated in the luminous pages of that great and good man, Dr. Paley. A MELANCHOLY VISIT. If I mistake not it is my Lord Verulam who says, "it is at all times honorable to take advice from a friend, and no less necessary to profit by the more rigorous admonitions of an enemy. The advice of friendship is consoling; the animadversions of envy sometimes just." I scarce know how this aphorism came across my imagination, except that the visit I was about to make suggested it. Well, so it was, I went over to P―ll, the home of my infancy, and here time has wrought a deplorable change. Returning to I—h, I made it my duty to call on the cottagers at B Poor souls! many of them, who were wont to work at my grandfather's, and at my fathers', and who had often carried me in their arms, had retired to the silent chambers of the grave. No more doth the daily summons of labour direct their steps o'er the dewy lawn, or through the cold and blustering storm. No more the meek calls of religion, on the Sunday's morn, lead them to the house of prayer; nor the imperious voice of necessity to toil. Peace to their humble manes, thought I, as I thus reflected on their destiny, while I slowly directed my steps in the solemn and dreary footpath. Deceitful happiness, where then art thou to be "found? I contrasted what I had just seen with the gaiety and bustle of a fashionable life. Here, thought I, the poor man returns from his toil, and finds that comfort his wishes lead him to expect. True it is the unambitious comfort of poverty; yet let me ask the man of the world, or the man of study, if these are not pleasures suited to the poor man's nature, and to his wants, and consequently they give to him a happiness commensurate to his utmost wish, and an enjoyment in unison with his station. Hence in my opinion doth his lot in society become equally enviable with that of the rich. A wise Providence has so ordered it; for what anxiety and tortured feeling have I not witnessed amid our leading statesmen-what anguish and disquietude to those to whom wealth rapidly accumulated-add to which what perverse fortune, and ruined health to men of fashion, or to the meddling philosopher, or inquisitive orator, who pretends to meliorate the condition of his fellow-creatures by subtle reasoning and sophisticated dogmas. "Let vanity adorn the marble tomb "With trophies, rhymes, and scutcheons of renown, "In the deep dungeon of some gothic dome, "Where night and desolation ever frown, "Minc be the breesy hill that skirts the down; "Where a green grassy turf is all I crave, "With here and there a violet bestrown, "Fast by a brook, or fountain's murmuring wave, BEATTIE'S MINSTREL. A FRAGMENT. I took leave of my young friend with a heavy heart, and rode quietly over to the home of my parents. How sensibly was my mind affected by every object which now presented itself. The feel ings of infancy, and the charms of youth were gone; a kind of chaos-like malady seized my fa culties, while a lethargic affection, allied to sorrow, creeped through every artery, and freezed the warmest circulation of the blood. Say, ye who have experienced like sensations, if this congelation does not arise from a too powerful influence of the passions? Memory had long entwined these far distant sceness-she had painted them in glowing co. lours-and my presence amongst them cancelled the delusion. The school to which I had so often slowly bent my steps was there, but the thoughts that then revolved were fled for ever. A commix. ture of woe, blended with joy, clung to a palpitating throb, and a tear of pity stole down my cheek. Early on the ensuing morn I took a solitary stroll by the river, and with raptures descried the favourite haunt of my boyish days. Delightful recollection! it was yonder I rambled in the "cheerful morn of life" with my valued Edgar, angling patiently for the spotted trout, contemplating the wild beauties of nature, or descanting on the virtues of Corvinus, who resided at the cottage, and at whose table we were always welcome. I hied me on through the romantic glens, delighted with the varied wildness of the scene, and charmed with the "swarming songsters of the careless grove." What with the responsive echo of the rolling river, the sweet warbling of the feathered tribe, and the pleasing hue of varied nature, softened by every endearing tint of happiest light and shade, I had almost fancied myself in the regions of the blest, or transported to one of those retirements where the muses carol in their enchanting destiny. Pleasurable moment! memory will ever retrace that soulinspiring morn when imagination caught the rapture-rising thought, as the rude turrets of Gilnockie* rose in the horizon, and fancy conjured up the deeds of other days. How fleeting, thought I, the destinies of life: to-day, we bask in the vale of bliss; to-morrow comes, our dreams of enjoyment are fled, and we are languid. Farewel, ye pensile wanderings of the mind, and let me enjoy the company of Ednor the sage of Ednam. I found the venerable man seated near to his hospitable roof, and I approached him with reverence. He was reading a small manuscript, which he politely gave to me, and bade me peruse it at my leisure. I received the gift with gratitude, and soon'unfolded it *The old castle of the border chieftain Johnny Armstrong, renowned in legendary tale. |