THE OLD ARM-CHAIR. 285 bring men more and more together, and the sound of hound and horn. blend all feelings into harmony. I believe this is one great reason why the nobility and gentry are more popular among the inferior orders in England than they are in any other country; and why the latter have endured so many excessive pressures and extremities, without repining more generally at the unequal distribution of fortune and privilege. To this mingling of cultivated and rustic society may also be attributed the rural feeling that runs through British literature; the frequent use of illustrations from rural life; those incomparable descriptions of nature which abound in the British poets, that have continued down from "The Flower and the Leaf" of Chaucer, and have brought into our closets all the freshness and fragrance of the dewy landscape. The pastoral writers of other countries appear as if they had paid Nature an occasional visit, and become acquainted with her general charms; but the British poets have revelled with her--they have wooed her in her most secret hauntsthey have watched her minutest caprices. A spray could not tremble in the breeze-a leaf could not rustle to the ground-a diamond drop could not patter in the stream-a fragrance could not exhale from the humble. violet, nor a daisy unfold its crimson tints to the morning, but it has been noticed by these impassioned and delicate observers, and wrought up into some beautiful morality. THE OLD ARM-CHAIR. ELIZA COOK. LOVE it, I love it! and who shall dare I've bedewed it with tears, I've embalmed it with sighs. 'Tis bound by a thousand bands to my heart; I've treasured it long as a sainted prize, Not a tie will break, not a link will start; It's here we hae oor trials, an' it's here that An' its Eden bow'rs are trellised wi' a never Though his palace is up yonder, he has king- An' nae tyrant hoofs shall trample i' the city doms here below, An' we are his ambassadors, wherever we may go; We've a message to deliver, an' we've lost anes hame to bring To be leal and loyal-heartit i' the palace o' the King. Oh, it's honor heaped on honor that his courtiers should be ta'en Frae the wand'rin' anes he died for i' this warl' o' sin an' pain, An' it's fu'est love an' service that the Christian aye should bring o' the free. There's an everlastin' daylight, an' a never fadin' spring, Where the Lamb is a' the glory, i' the palace o' the King. We see oor frien's await us ower yonder at his gate: Then let us a' be ready, for ye ken it's gettin' late. Let oor lamps be brichtly burnin'; let's raise oor voice an' sing, "Sune we'll meet, to pairt nae mair, i' the palace o' the King." PIP'S FIGHT. CHARLES DICKENS. OME and fight," said the pale young gentleman. What could I do but follow him? I have often asked myself the question since: but what else could I do? His manner was so final and I was so astonished, that I followed where he led, as if I had been under a spell. Stop a minute, though," he said, wheeling round before we had got many paces. "I ought to give you a reason for fighting, too. There it is!" In a most irritating manner he instantly slapped his hands against one another, daintily flung one of his legs up behind him, pulled my hair, slapped his hands again, dipped his head, and butted it into my stomach. The bull-like proceeding last mentioned, besides that it was unquestionably to be regarded in the light of a liberty, was particularly disagreeable just after bread and meat. I therefore hit out at him, and was going to hit out again, when he said, "Aha! Would you?" and began dancing backward and forward in a manner quite unparalleled within my limited experience. "Laws of the game!" said he. Here he skipped from his left leg on to his right. "Regular rules!" Here he skipped from his right leg on to his left. "Come to the ground and go through the preliminaries!" Here he dodged backward and forward, and did all sorts of things, while I looked helplessly at him. I was secretly afraid of him when I saw him so dexterous; but I felt morally and physically convinced that his light head of hair could have had no business in the pit of my stomach, and that I had a right to consider it irrelevant when so obtruded on my attention. Therefore, I followed him without a word to a retired nook of the garden, formed by the junction of two walls and screened by some rubbish. On his asking me if I was satisfied with the ground, and on my replying Yes, he begged my leave to absent himself for a moment, and quickly returned with a bottle of water and a sponge dipped in vinegar. "Available for both," he said, placing these against the wall. And then fell to pulling off, not only his jacket and waistcoat, but his shirt too, in a manner at once light-hearted, business-like and blood-thirsty. Although he did not look very healthy-having pimples on his face, and a breaking-out at his mouth-these dreadful preparations quite appalled me. I judged him to be about my own age, but he was much taller, and he had a way of spinning himself about that was full of appearance. For the rest, he was a young gentleman in a gray suit (when not denuded for battle), with his elbows, knees, wrists, and heels considerably in advance of the rest of him as to development. My heart failed me when I saw him squaring at me with every demonstration of mechanical nicety, and eying my anatomy as if he were minutely choosing his bone. I never have been so surprised in my life as I was when I let out the first blow, and saw him lying on his back, look THE BURIAL OF MOSES. 289 ing up at me with a bloody nose and his face exceedingly foreshortened. But he was on his feet directly, and after sponging himself with a great show of dexterity began squaring again. The second greatest surprise I have ever had in my life was seeing him on his back again, looking up at me out of a black eye. His spirit inspired me with great respect. He seemed to have no strength, and he never once hit me hard, and he was always knocked down; but he would be up again in a moment, sponging himself or drinking out of the water-bottle, with the greatest satisfaction in seconding himself according to form, and then came at me with an air and show that made me believe he really was going to do for me at last. He got heavily bruised, for I am sorry to record that the more I hit him, the harder I hit him; but he came up again and again and again, until at last he got a bad fall with the back of his head against the wall. Even after that crisis in our affairs, he got up and turned round and round confusedly a few times, not knowing where I was; but finally went on his knees to his sponge and threw it up at the same time panting out, "That means you have won." He seemed so brave and innocent, that although I had not proposed the contest I felt but a gloomy satisfaction in my victory. Indeed, I go so far as to hope that I regarded myself, while dressing, as a species of savage young wolf, or other wild beast. However, I got dressed, darkly wiping my sanguinary face at intervals, and I said, "Can I help you?" and he said, "No, thankee," and I said, "Good afternoon," and he said, "Same to you." THE BURIAL OF MOSES. MRS. C. F. ALEXANDER. "And he buried him in a valley in the land of Moab, over against Beth-peor; but no man knoweth of his sepulchre unto this day." Deut. xxxiv. 6. |