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88 ®t> * &$&Htt* [Saturday,
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We should do our utmost to encourage the...
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PLEA AND COUNTER-PLEA. Concerning the " ...
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AN EPISODE IN A HISTORY. Part II.—The De...
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Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software. The text has not been manually corrected and should not be relied on to be an accurate representation of the item.
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88 ®T> * &$&Htt* [Saturday,
88 ® t > * & $ & Htt * [ Saturday ,
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% nifnlin .
We Should Do Our Utmost To Encourage The...
We should do our utmost to encourage the Beautiful , for the Useful encourages itself . — Gobthe .
Plea And Counter-Plea. Concerning The " ...
PLEA AND COUNTER-PLEA . Concerning the " In Mamoriatn' * of Alfred Tennyson By Akcheb Gubney , Clerk . I , PIBST IMPBEBBIONS . "Why * Tennyson ! what hapless mood Hath moved thee pages , fond as these , To print , to publish , all at ease ? i What self-delusive hardihood ! These weary rhymes , which evermore Beat time to nothing in thy brain , — These weary rhymes , as sad as vain , Why blend them with thy poet-lore ?
Thus might one wail , from morn to eve , And still from eve to morn anew , That leaves are green , that skies are blue , That shadows round their circles weave . But thou didst prize thy Friend ! ' T is well Nor will I seek to question here , That grace , that genius , void of peer ! Thy fancy wrought the giant-spell .
Nay , if it pleased thee to rehearse Thy sorrows to the weeping skies In vague and boundless melodies , Though sickly , fair befal thy verse ! But these things , man , were not for print I Here lay a string of pearls for thee , " Where others painted beads would see . What ! a whole book and nothing in ' t !
No , Tennyson : I prize thee much , But mine esteem must fainter grow • Two hundred leaves of morbid woe , And of free genius scarce a touch ! Think not . I ne ' er thy songs did love ! 'T is for thy fame , to me right dear , That jealously I watch and fear : Mine inmost soul ' twas thine to move . When thou last struck Love ' s master-keys , When grace and passion thrill'd thy strain ,
This cheek hath flushed , shall flush again , With kindling poet-sympathies . My tears have rained their tribute due To thy sweet pathos , matchless save On Shakspeare ' s page ; and thence I waive All courtesies , and " tell thee true " : These rhymes are blanks ; or little more ; For thee , at least , too faint , too dull ; Dim shadows of the beautiful ; Of faded leaves an autumn store . Quick , send some kindling war-note forth , — / War-note or love-note , which thou wilt , —\ To cleanse from literary guilt , J And test and prove and seal thy worth . Meanwhile , my serious song must flow , In echoes creeping on for aye : — " O doleful , doleful , doleful lay ! Oh , dreary , dreary , dreary , oh !" II . —8 ECONI > THOUGHTS . Ah , rash and impious haste in me ! Could old experience nothing teach ? These " doleful ditties , " all and each , Arc sweet as angels' songs may be ! Yet let my haste memento . stand To hoaty critics , one and all , That each may blot the pecviah scrawl , Or pillory straight , his own right hand ! In eager hopes of- —Ileav'n knows what—The book I oped , and o ' er it threw Fleet mnoroua glances ; rash they Hew , Like waves on waves , and rested not . Still dreaming , magic luy beyond , More strange , more dazzling , mightier far , I Boar'd from gentle star to star , And craved a comet ! craving fond ! More passionate , impulsive strain , Music moro wild , I dreamt to hear ; A brighter love , a keener four , A world of rapture and of pain . So this oalm stream , ho sweet , ho strong ; 80 this gold sunlight , broad but still ; This huuhed repono of vale and hill ; This pure felicity of song :
All this to me seem'd monotdne , Stagnation morbid . In an hour , Or less , —O Ease ! thou fatal dower!—I read , and judg'd , and scrawl'd : ' t was done Undone might be ! Yet wherefore this ? Rather the beacon-light I set ( Which may I ne ' er myself forget !) And now record the poet-bliss Which since my inmost soul o ' ercame , In scanning these dear leaves of woe . Yet were they faultless ? Surely , No ! 'T was true , they lack'd a constant aim .
For what iB fruitless in thy strain , ' Twill perish ; what is true shall live : The false is ever fugitive ; The everlasting heavens remain . And so I witness bear : for meek And holy pathos , woe more bless'd Than bliss , most musical unrest , — For these man ne ' er shall vainly seek , These leaves within !—Of song and light A lasting treasury hold we here ; For which all gentle hearts most dear Must count the man who thus could write
Thus , then , in this my penance-lay , I own my haste , retract my wrong , And bless thee , Poet , for thy song : O be thou bless'd henceforth alway ! And here I end , recanting that , My " doleful , doleful , doleful" cry : An Eagle—Tennyson , and I , 'T would seem , a dreary purblind Bat
An Episode In A History. Part Ii.—The De...
AN EPISODE IN A HISTORY . Part II . —The Deliverance . It was a beautiful evening as I left Hamilton , and my walk to Glasgow was so delicious and exciting that it quite dispelled the recent gloom that had clouded my heart , and I half repented of my wish to quit the soldier ' s life . I began to dream of what I might be if I remained , in a year Sergeant Harwell ; in a year or two more a commissioned officer ; then Sir Francis Harwell , a distinguished commander in . India ; then Lord Harwell , delighting the world as much by the mastery of my eloquence and the wisdom of my statesmanship as I had just been astonishing it by my military skill and valour . A very simple circumstance soon dissipated my dreams . I entered a lonely house that stood by the side of the road to get a draught of milk . There was no ono within but a young and pretty woman and her little son no less pretty , who was about four years old . I took him in my arms and kissed him passionately as I thought of my own brothers , some of whom were about the eame age . The young mother looked at me with pity , and
said that she loved her child with her whole soul , but that much as she loved him she would rather see him die that instant than think that when grown up he would become a soldier . This brief sharp speech brought me to my senses . I reached Glasgow late at night , and a benevolent policeman whom I met near one of the bridges took some trouble to obtain me comfortablo lodgings . I remained indoors all next day ,. ' 5 * 8 , from having been so long at the Glasgow University , I was afraid of meeting some one that I knew . I did not wish , to reach my native village in
the daytime as I had determined that none of my old acquaintance there should see mo in my military dress . As soon as the night had fairly set in I commenced my journey . I had thirty miles to walk . The day liad been very beautiful , but I had not gone above a mile when it began to rain and ceaseless torrents kept drenching me and dashing in my face the whole way . When I came to Paisley I was tempted to give up my enterprise . But 1 felt something like the voice of u good spirit urging rnc on . I therefore , in spito of rain , and diirkmiHH , and mud
pursued my journey . I passed several villages where 1 hud kind friends who would have been glad to give mo a welcome even in my soldier ' s gurl > . I Jut I resolved rather to lie down by the wayside and dio than seek the hospitality of utiy one . . besides 1 was ho thoroughly worn out by badness of mind , and fatigue of body that I had for the moment grown indifFerent to life . 3 low I dragged along my limbs during the lust ten miles I scurcely know ; I suppose bheer force of will prevented me from being utterly exhausted . As 1 descended tho hills that circle in my native villii ^ the roar of iIil' oijeiui ' d wuvcti
dusking against wild and well-known rocks gave me fresh courage and strength . Approaching my father ' s door about an hour before the dawn , I stood for a time without having the resolution to knock . When at last I did so , my mother ' s heart , rather than her ear , told her by a $ trange instinct who was there . I heard a gentle foot coming rapidly near . What then , oh ! God , were my emotions ? In a moment the poor wet , weary wanderer was hotly clasped by affectionate arms . My father was stealthily called , so as not to disturb or alarm the rest of the family . He
had no reproaches for me , nothing but sorrow or love . Some brief words told my history for the las t fe w weeks . It was Been that that was not the time to question me , however desirous my parents were of knowing more . My wet clothes were stript off , and I had not been a minute in bed before I fell into a deep refreshing sleep . When I awoke I saw my mother by my bedside . I could then answer all her fond enquiries . My parents and I had a long consultation together , and my father at last said that though he could ill afford the money he would
purchase my discharge . He knew that I had never been inclined to vice though excessively rash and headlong . It was , therefore , arranged that he should himself take a journey to Hamilton as soon as possible , to obtain my discharge . Very early next morning , before any one was abroad , he drove me to Paisley . I walked thence to Hamilton the same day . When I came to the gate of the barracks I was immediately arrested for having been absent three days instead of two . I received a severe lecture from the sergeantmajor of my troop . My punishment , however , was
not very severe . I was confined that night to the guard-house , and was forbidden to leave the barracks for a week or two . In the guard-house I had no other bed than the bare boards , and no other bedclothes than a cloak which some kind soul lent me . When I left the guard-house it maybe supposed that I did not return to my old occupations with much alacrity . I , however , determined to do all my duties with mechanical exactness , if I could not put that spirit into them which I felt now to be impossible . It did not reconcile me to my lot that some of my
brother soldiers were as well educated as myself . Not a few had been clerks ; one or two had been medical students . I saw that soldiers of this stamp only reconciled themselves to their lot by assuming a coarseness which was not natural to them , and that they were in general more selfish , and depraved than those who had not received any education at all . Not more than a fortnight elapsed before my father came to Hamilton bringing my purchase-money , which was nearly double the amount incurred by the
Magician . When I knew that it was paid , though I deeply grieved that my good father had been put to so much expense by my folly , yet I rejoiced with a great joy that I was no longer a slave , that I had once moro a father and that he had once more a son , In a pleasant walk , however , and afterwards "when we dined together , we could express our joy by nothing but a kind of holy silence . He had not been gone many days when I was again forced to enter the hospital by influenza . My bed was next to that of a person suffering from inflammation of the brain . For several
nights his wild delirious cries and furious gestures and movements scarcely allowed me to get any sleep . He was a recruit , and his father and mother lived at no great distance from Hamilton . They came ono day , two pious , simple-hearted old people , to . see their son . Their hearts had been half-broken by hia enlisting ; how much more bitter their Agony to stand beside his bed and listen to the ravings of his mudness ! One evening the surgeon shaved his head and applied leeches . Hideous enough to my sensitivo nerves wore tho streaming blood , the fierce shriek varied by tho melancholy moan , and afterwards tho face almost , us white as the bandages above it . About
midnight I was roused from sweet dreams of my childhood and of my village homo by one loud , rending , torturing howl , an 01 tho damned . In a moment the hospital attendants rushed in , bearing lights . Tho madman had sprung up in bed , had torn oft" all the bandages , and his face and clothes were covered with tho gushing blood . I know not whether my terror or my horror for a fow instants wore greater . Perhaps this fresh flow of Mood did the poor creature good , as he afterwards recovered , though probably long en ; this he has found in India or elsewhere an unknown grave . When my father learned that I was ill , he again came to Hamilton . I ihuv him only once . Ho / iat by my bedside , and our
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Citation
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Leader (1850-1860), Jan. 25, 1851, page 16, in the Nineteenth-Century Serials Edition (2008; 2018) ncse.ac.uk/periodicals/l/issues/cld_25011851/page/16/
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