صور الصفحة
PDF
النشر الإلكتروني

Winter invades the Spring, and often pours

It may be said that the vices of these people have A chilling flood on Summer's drooping flowers;

blunted their sensibilities, and rendered them brutal Unwelcome vapors quench autumnal beams,

and dull. If we but turn our eyes to the islands of Ingenial blasts attending curl the streams:

the Southern Pacific, we shall see a people more The peasants urge their harveste, ply the fork With double toil, and shiver at their work:

degraded, equally destitute of education, and, so far Thus, with a vigor for his good designed,

as we know, equally low in natural endowments. She rears her favorite man of all mankind."

But do we find the same dullness, grossness, stupid

ity, and gloominess that characterize the Esqui. Though this is poetry, yet poetry utters a great maux? Here, the suu shines in all his glory, gildmany truths; and it is a very curious and suggest

ing the mountains and trees and waters with his ive fact that English climate and character so

radiance, and making the earth beautiful to look entirely coincide. John Bull is a blustering fellow,

upon; here, flowers bloom, birds sing, and warm just like his winds, and, if his climate is fickle and

and soft breezes blow. Can man be gloomy here? sudden in its changes, so is he moody and his tem- }

Can be resist the spirit of gladness that breathes pers uncertain. Are his winters frosty, and his sum- }

around? These islanders are expert and elegant mers genial ? So are his likes and his dislikes, his} dancers. Unlike their northern brethren, they reloves and his bates; he has much winter and not a

joice in a rude music, and take pleasure in social little sunshine mingled in his character.

assemblages and personal display. Dancing is genNow, if we turn to France, we shall find a people

erally regarded as an indication of hilarity, and of of very different character, and an equally diverse

some degree of exhilaration of animal spirits, though, climate. The atmosphere is soft and transparent,

in promiscuous assemblies, certainly attended with and the temperature uniform and genial. Every a deterioration of manners; yet, so far as it is the breeze is freighted with the odor of Aowers, and

expression of gayety in these islanders, it shows a every grove is vocal with the song of birds. Now,

correspondence between their climate and characthough we would not ascribe everything to climate, ter. No such amusement obtains in rude climes yet how strikingly do French manners coincide with and on inhospitable shores. the aspects of nature around them!

These observations might be extended to all the

countries of the earth. Wherever extremes in cli“ The Frenchman, easy, debonair, and brisk,

mate and striking characteristics of natural scenery Give him his lass, his fiddle, and his frisk,

obtain, we are certain to find corresponding deveIs always happy, reign whoever may, And laughs the sense of misery away."

lopments of character in the people. Certainly, the

instances are not all equally striking or manifest, In Italy, the same correspondences exist between

yet are we never without some signal proof of the the face of the country and the character of the

facts in question. As before observed, we do not people; for, though it be true that idleness and refer all the peculiarities of character that distinsensuality have debased the Italian character, and guish one nation from another to the influences of brought down its high aspirings, yet such is the { external nature ; on the contrary, we believe that magic of their sunny clime that, despite the most Tature lays the foundation of many of them, and adverse moral influences, it still, chameleon-like,

me may be traced to the influences of other nareflects the hues of the scenes amid which it is

tions, to traditional and religious observances, and nursed,

other causes. We shall find a further confirmation of our idea

If our facts and observations have established by a reference to barbarous nations. The life of the proposition that the aspect of external nature the poor Esquimaux is peculiarly dreary, rendered exerts a very important influence in moulding the 80 as much by their modes of life as by their cli

character of man, we think the fact itself cannot be mate. Captain Parry says they are dull and gloomy,

devoid of interest as a matter of curious informaliving together like swine in snow-houses and dark

tion, or barren of instruction in matters of higher caves, and that they are scarcely ever seen to laugh

moment. If it is the law of man's nature that he or heard to joke. All the circumstances of their becomes assimilated to the things around him, it lives conduce to these results. A poet has embo

becomes important for him to bestow some attendied these ideas in the following beautiful lines :

tion upon the architecture of his dwellings and

places of constant resort, and upon the aspect of “Half enlivened by the distant sun,

their position and adornments. We know that this That rears and ripens man, as well as plants,

law of our nature has been taken advantage of in Here, human nature wears its rudest form.

bygone ages to nurse the worst superstitions, and Deep from the piercing season sunk in caves,

even now resort is had to the same measures for imHere, by dull fires, and with unjoyous cheer, They waste the tedious gloom. Immersed in furs,

pressions to bolster up decaying systems of error. Doze the gross race. Nor sprightly jest nor song,

The law of assimilation is peculiarly active in Nor tenderness they know; por aught of life

associations between moral and intelligent beings. Beyond the kindred bears that stalk without."

We are told, in the Scriptures, that “we all with

A SABBATH MORNING IN OCTOBER.

377

open face beholding, as in a glass, the glory of the formations, and capable of such high attainments in Lord, are changed into the same image from glory { the scale of being ! to glory, even as by the Spirit of the Lord.” What Scripture exhortations to cheerfulness have a re. a glorious assimilation is this! With what grati- ference to the same law. “A sad countenance" tude should we reflect on the fact that God has seems to be the peculiar characteristic of the hypogiven us natures susceptible of such glorious trans- } crite, and is always a premonition of moral blight.

POETRY.

A SABBATH MORNING IN OCTOBER

BY HENRY SEYMOUR CHASE.

The

į Mount Tom, with joy, the merry peal receives

Amid its cavern'd rocks, and, dwelling there,
The fairy, echo, flings it gayly back
O'er distant hills.

The farmer's wife looks glad
When faintly falls upon her listening ear
The far off worship-call.

Each humble oot,
And prouder mansion, send the op'ning buds
Of youth, the ripen'd fruit of manhood's prime,
And wither'd leaves of cane-supporting age,
To form an off'ring meet for God's own house
Of praise. In by-paths through the solemn woods-
Through meadows, dressed in autumn's later green-
Beside the brooks where truant school-boys rove-
And down the dusty road, they flocking come.
Around the church-door gathered, friendship grasps
Th' extended hand, and greets, in tones and smiles
Subdued, the motley throng around. This past,
With humble mien they walk the sacred aisles.
Bend low your heads and hearts, ye pious souls,
For God's own presence fills this sacred place,
And opes the narrow gate that leads to heaven.

SERENELY wakes the morn;
Her cloud-fringed eyelids glow with silver light,
From that bright orb they guard.

The azure depth
of heaven's calm bosom holds one little cloud,
Star-lit, which feels the first warm kiss of Day,
And blushes. Then over the emerald hills,
With glory, flushes the ruddy light
From her soft-beaming eyes, and autumn woods,
Clothed in bright rainbow dyes, in one sweet concord
Sin out a hymn to God.

Like maiden coy,
Wooing the glance of him she loves, the Quechee,
When she sees the Day King out his glowing
Bath of beauty step, dripping with glory
O’er the pavement of the skies, doth gently
Cast aside her veil of mist, and murmurs
Back a soft "Amen."

Mountain, plain, and glen,
Through night's cold tears of glistening dew, oft shod
For absent daylight, smile.

In grateful praise,
All Nature worships God.

This lofty mount,
Whose rugged bosom feels the power that
Thunders in the storm, and rocks the eagle
In her dizzy nest, and yonder fruitful
Hills, whose lowing herds enjoy the genial
Sun, the universal concert join.

The
Wood-embosomed lake, whose calm blue eye, in
Its clear depth, reflects the fairy shores around,
Sends up its note of joy, and heavenly look
Of love.

Sweet-smelling herbs, and fragrant buds,
Pure incense offer, too. My rose, within
The casement, feels the inspiration of
The hour, and heavenward breathes its rich perfume.
Ilushed is the sound of daily toil. Man goes
Not forth today, to sweat for cursed gain,
But to praise and pray.

Behold the Sabbath!
O sacred morn, that saw the rock-closed tomb
Where Jesus lay, by shining angels oped!
O blessed Christ! roll thou away the stone
From this cold heart, where lie entombed good
Resolves. Breathe strength once more their stiffened joints
Within, and bid them rise, come forth, and lite.
The church-bells chime; to weary souls how sweet
The sounds harmonious. Through the bracing air
Their pleasant voices ring; invading, with
Their call to prayer, each quiet nook and dell.

VOL. XLV.-33

With careful steps, across the village green,
See yonder couple take their 'customed way.
Each Sabbath morn, an aged mother, blind
With age, doth lean upon a gray-haired son's
Most willing arm. With love and duty strong
Imbued, he leads where she may praise in God's
Own temple. After “service," ere the hours
Of twilight pass, once more with cheerful steps
He goes, and reads to that old mother, blind
And poor, sweet words of truth and grace, from that
Illumined page where Mercy pardon breathes
Through Jesus Christ our Lord.

O fragrant flowers
Of human hearts! there do ye meekly dwell,
And bless, with summer's bloom, the wintry soul
of dying age.

THE SILENT MULTITUDE OF THE DEAD.

O MIGHTY city of the dead! what numerous hosts are here; And yet all motionless they lie, unmov'd by sorrow's tear, Or by the mourner's wailing grief, who weeping stands

above This temple filld with pulseless hearts of lost and buried

love.

Though gladsome rays of morning come to gild the hal. Though radiant beams of noontide fall with clear, \effulgent

lowed spot, Unnoticed all their glories shine; the sleepers heed them

not:

light, Yet to that silent multitude 'tis one long dreamless night.

When, with the sunset's tearful gleam,

A chill wind wasteth the green bowers, And Mind perforce with Nature mourns,

Each for its summer flowers

The evening sunshine kindly stays to throw its influence

there, And twilight's pitying dews descend to weep the gentle tear; That hour so full of holy thought, to sweet communion

given, When the spirits of the loved below commune with those

in Heaven.

When all the birds of varied note,

And scented vine and slender tree, Are flown or fading, and the woods

Have voices like the sea

I met a maiden in my walk,

A blossom that was scarcely blown, With summer folded in her heart,

And fragrant in her tone.

But beauty all of earth and air, of sky and boundless seaThe glorious face that nature wears, all glad and bright

and free Charm not the sleepers resting here, nor cause one throb

of joy: O Death, insatiate conqueror! thou 'rt mighty to destroy. The husband here in calmness lies, and resting at his side Is she, his heart's young chosen one, his fond and trusting

bride: He cares not that she there reclines in quiet by him now, For Death's unfeeling touch has chilled that fair and pol

ished brow.

And soon came to her shaded eyes

A joy which none before had taught herA light soft as the mirrored star,

When dusk is on the water.

It was a look that met not mine,

But from it ever sought to rove; And yet in this anxietude,

Was eloquent of love.

A stolen look, which, when I saw,

A sudden, tremulous tinge of rose Suffused her virgin cheek, and seemed

To break her heart's repose.

The tender buds of hope and love, that came with morn

ing's bloom, The frosts of death have blighted now, and laid them in

the tomb: The lovely form of youth is here, the beautiful and puro Alas, thou mighty conqueror! thine aim is ever sure.

What could I do? the spring was gone;

The summer, too, was ebbing low; And mounted autumn rides so fast

Toward the hills of snow!

Here, all unmoved, the mother's heart lies pulseless, cold,

and still; That heart so constant, warm, and true-80 firm through

good and ill: The dirging grief of stricken ones cannot avail them now, Nor causo one ray of tenderness to light that pallid brow.

I whispered! while her cheeks o'erflowed,

Deeper than rose or twilight stream;
And since, our mutual life has been

A revery-a dream!
The leaf may fall, the blossom blow-

I have no season but her eyes;
And they are of the changeless hue

of the blue summer skies.

But oh! a new unclouded dawn, a glorious morn shall rise, A morning of celestial birth-a herald from the skiesWhen pealing through the trembling air the trumpet's

sound shall come, To wake the silent multitude that slumber in the tomb.

[blocks in formation]
[blocks in formation]

TO THE WEAK.

BY JANVIER. OH aching hearts, by care oppressed, Oh weeping ones, that know no rest; Oh mourners, that have suffered long; Oh ye, the faint of heart, be strong!

Ah! life to him has lost its charms:

Sweet health is gone-youth's joys are fled; No earthly hope his bosom warms

He longs to slumber with the dead ! And feebly now his breast's core beats

The vital thread Fate soon will sever; Ere many morns his spirit greets,

His eyes may close, and close forever! And when his form shall pulseless lie,

Outstretched beneath the comin-lid; Ah! who think you from Sorrow's eye

Will o'er his urn one teardsop shed!

Ye drooping ones, your sorrows bear; Steel your weak breasts, repel despair; For they who buffet with their fate, And brave its anguish, shall be great!

Sorrow is power, and when ye bow,
And wild thoughts thrill the rending brow,
Look to the living skier, and see-
Fit emblem of your destiny-

Who'll seek his grave at twilight hours,

When earth is robed in vernal bloom, And o'er it strew those fragrant flowers

That speak of hope beyond the tomb.

Some struggling star, that, froed at length,
Bursts into brilliancy and strength,
And leaves the clouds, that clogged it so,
Alone to grovel on below.

[blocks in formation]
« السابقةمتابعة »