Obrazy na stronie
PDF
ePub

In the next place, all confidence among intelligent beings would be completely destroyed. Disappointment would invariably attend every purpose and resolution, and every scheme we wished to execute, if it depended, in the least degree, upon the direction or assistance of others. We should not dare to taste an article of food which we might receive from another, lest it should contain poison; nor could we ever construct a house, to shelter us from the storm, unless our own physical powers were adequate to the work. Were we living in Edinburgh, we could never go to Musselburgh and Dalkeith, if we were previously ignorant of the situation of those places; or were we residing in London, it would be impossible for us ever to find our way to Hommerton or Hampstead, unless, after a thousand attempts, chance should happen to direct us; and when we might arrive at either of these villages, we should still be in as much uncertainty as ever, whether it was the place to which we intended to direct our steps.

Confidence being destroyed, there could be no friendship, no union of hearts, no affectionate intercourse, no social converse, no consolation or comfort in the hour of distress, no hopes of deliverance in the midst of danger, and no prospect of the least enjoyment from any being around us. In such a case, the mind would feel itself as in a wilderness, even when surrounded by fellow-intelligences; and, wherever it roamed over the vast expanse of nature, or among the mass of living beings around it, it would meet with no affectionate interchange of feelings and sentiments, and no object on which it could rest for solace and enjoyment. Every one would feel as if he were placed in the midst of an infinite void, and as if he were the only being residing in the universe. We should flee from the society of men, as we would do from a lion or a tiger when rushing on his prey; and hide ourselves in dens, and forests, and caverns of the earth, till death should put a period to a cheerless and miserable existence.

All social intercourse and relations would cease; families could not possibly exist, nor any affectionate intercourse between the sexes; for truth, and the confidence which is founded upon it, are implied in all the intercourse of husbands and wives, of brothers and sisters, and of parents and children; and consequently the human race, dropping into the grave,

one after another, like the leaves of autumn, without any successors, would, in a short time, be extirpated from the earth. In such a state, kindness and affection would never be exercised; trade and commerce, buying and selling, social compacts and agreements would be annihilated; science, literature, and the arts, could not exist; and consequently universities, colleges, churches, academies, schools, and every other seminary of instruction, would be unknown. No villages, towns, nor cities, would be built; no fields cultivated; no orchards, vineyards, nor gardens planted; no intercourse would exist between different regions of the globe; and nothing but one dreary, barren waste would be presented to the eye, throughout the whole expanse of nature.

Dick

[blocks in formation]

Fair forms have lent their gladdest smile,

White hands have waved the conqueror on,
And flowers have decked his path the while,
By gentle fingers strown.

Soft tones have cheered him, and the brow
Of beauty beams uncovered now.

The bard has waked the song for him,
And poured his boldest numbers forth;
The wine-cup, sparkling to the brim,
Adds frenzy to the mirth;
And every tongue, and every eye,
Does homage to the passer by.

The gallant steed treads proudly on;

His foot falls firmly now, as when,

In strife that iron heel went down

Upon the hearts of men,

And, foremost in the ranks of strife,
Trod out the last, dim spark of life.

Dream they of these, the glad and gay,
That bend around the conqueror's path?
The horrors of the conflict day,

The gloomy field of death,

The ghastly stain, the severed head,
The raven stooping o'er the dead?

Dark thoughts, and fearful! yet they bring
No terrors to the triumph hour,
Nor stay the reckless worshiping
Of blended crime and power.
The fair of form, the mild of mood,
Do honor to the man of blood.

Men! christians! pause! The air ye breathe

Is poisoned by your idol now;
And will you turn to him, and wreathe

Your chaplets round his brow?
Nay, call his darkest deeds sublime,
And smile assent to giant crime?

Forbid it, Heaven! A voice hath gone
In mildness and in meekness forth,
Hushing, before its silvery tone,

The stormy things of earth,

And whispering sweetly through the gloom

An earnest of the peace to come.

ANONYMOUS.

LESSON CXCII.

THE DUEL.

SHE said she was alone within the world:

How could she but be sad?

She whispered something of a lad,

With eyes of blue, and light hair sweetly curled;

But the grave had the child!

And yet his voice she heard,

When at the lattice, calm and mild,

The mother in the twilight saw the vine-leaves stirred. "Mother," it seemed to say,

"I love thee;

When thou dost by the side of thy lone pillow pray, My spirit writes the words above thee;

Mother! I watch o'er thee; I love thee!"

Where was the husband of that widowed thing.
That seraph's earthly sire?

A soldier dares a soldier's fire:

The murderous ball brought death upon its wing;
Beneath a foreign sky

He fell, in sunny Spain;

The wife, in silence, saw him die,

But the fond boy's blue eyes gave drops like sunny rain. "Mother!" the poor lad cried,

"He's dying!

We are close by thee, father; at thy bleeding side; Dost thou not hear thy Arthur crying?

Mother! his lips are closed; he's dying!"

It was a stormy time, where the man fell;
And the youth shrunk and pined;
Consumption's worm his pulse entwined;
"Prepare his shroud," rang out the convent-bell,
Yet through his pain he smiled,

To soothe a parent's grief;

Sad soul! she could not be beguiled;

She saw the bud would leave the guardian leaf! "Mother!" he faintly said,

"Come near me!

Kiss me; and let me in my father's grave be laid;
I've prayed that I might still be near thee;
Mother! I'll come again and cheer thee."

LESSON CXCIII.

THE FESTAL BOARD.

COME to the festal board to-night,

For bright-eyed beauty will be there,

Her coral lips in nectar steeped,

And garlanded her hair.

EDWARDS.

Come to the festal board to-night,
For there the joyous laugh of youth,
Will ring those silvery peals, which speak
Of bosoms pure, and stainless truth.

Come to the festal board to-night,

For friendship, there, with stronger chain, Devoted hearts already bound

For good or ill, will bind again.
I went.

Nature and art their stores out-poured;
Joy beamed in every kindling glance;
Love, friendship, youth, and beauty, smiled:
What could that evening's bliss enhance ?
We parted.

And years have flown; but where are now
The guests, who round that table met?
Rises their sun as gloriously

As on the banquet's eve it set?

How holds the chain which friendship wove?
It broke; and, soon, the hearts it bound
Were widely sundered; and for peace,
Envy, and strife, and blood, were found.

The merriest laugh which then was heard Has changed its tones to maniac screams; As half-quenched memory kindles up

Glimmerings of guilt in feverish dreams.

And where is she, whose diamond eyes
Golconda's purest gems outshone?
Whose roseate lips of Eden breathed?
Say, where is she, the beauteous one?

Beneath yon willow's drooping shade,

With eyes now dim, and lips all pale, She sleeps in peace. Read on her urn, "A broken heart." This tells her tale.

And where is he, that tower of strength, Whose fate with hers, for life was joined? How beats his heart, once honor's throne?

How high has soared his daring mind?

« PoprzedniaDalej »