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Or vernal sunshine or autumnal shade, Like music heard when the close of life is near, Or winter's gloom or summer's blaze;

It faintly comes,

- a spirit's seeming. Or bird or beast or creeper of the sod,

The sounds that once delighting round me Or all those works that trophy man's abode,

stole, Or him divine the image of his God,

Lifting to heaven in silent praise my soul; Answered my failing gaze.

The rush of winds and waves, the thunder's

roll, Look, gentle guide, thou seest the impatient The steed's proud neigh, the lamb's meek Sun

plaint, Forth sending far his ambient glory, The insect's hum, the vesper hymn of birds, O'er laughing fields and frowning mountains The rural harmony of flocks and herds, dun,

The sounds of mirth, and man's inspiring O’er glancing streams and woodlands hoary. words, In orient clouds is steeped his amber hair; Come to me fainter, yet more faint. His beams, far-slanting through the flaming air, Bid Earth, with all her hymning sounds, de- Was my poor soul to God's great works so dull clare

That they from her must hide for ever? The praise of everlasting light.

Is earth too bright, too fair, too beautiful, On my bared head I feel his pitying ray; For me ingrate, that we must sever? He gently shines on my benighted way; By blossom-scented gales that round me blow, But ah, Pensylla, he brings me no day, By vernal showers, the sun's inpassioned glow, Nor yet his setting, deeper night.

And smell of woods and meads, alone I know

Of Spring's approach and summer's bloom; O thou that veil'st the dread eternal throne, And by the pure air void of odors sweet, And dost of him in sense remind me!

By noontide beams low slanting without heat, From me, O Light of Heaven! why hast thou By rude winds, yielding snows, and hazardous flown,

sleet, To these dark shades why hast resigned me? Of autumn's blight and winter's gloom. On pinions of surpassing beauty borne, As at the entrance of a yawning cave When Nature hails the glad ascent of morn, I shrink ; so still is all and sombre : In thine unsullied loveliness

This death of sense makes life a breathing Thou comest; but to my darkened eyes in vain :

grave, My night, e'en in the noon of thy domain, A vital death, a waking slumber. Yields not to thee; for joy of thine again Yet must I yield. Though fled for e'er the Can ne'er my dayless being bless.

light,
Though utter silence bring me double night,

Though to my insulated mind
II.

Knowledge no more her precious leaves unfold,

And cheering face of man I ne'er behold,
Next Silence, fit companion of the night, Yet must submit, must be resigned.

In dismal nought my being steeping,
Like the telt presence of an unseen sprite,
With mutiled tread comes creeping, creer-

III.
ing.
Before me close her smothering curtain swings, Thou sad, blind Milton, solemn son of night,
And o'er my life a shadeless shadow flings, Great exile once from day's dominion bright,
Descending pitilessly slow,

Though from thine eyes earth's beauteous form To shroud this last sweet glimpse of earth and was veiled, man,

And thickening shadows round thee blindly And trammel me within the narrow span,

sailed, An arm's length here below.

Yet thou, in lone effulgence beaming, Oh, whither shall I fly this stroke to shun! From that proud height unscaled by mortal Where turn me this side death and heaven!

man, Almost I would my course on earth were run, As with an angel's ken at will didst scan And all to night and silence given !

Wide heaven in solid glory gleaming. I turn to man. Can he but bless and mourn? When seraph harps with Joul hosannas thrilled, Like me he's helpless; and, like bubbles borne, And Eden with descending echoes tille, We to a common haven float.

Or at Jehovah's voice were sweetly stilled; To Ilim, the All-seeing and All-hearing One, When envy peace celestial marred, Behold, I turn. More hid than he there's And on swift wings the embattled hosts of none,

heaven More silent none, none more remote.

With untried arms to unwonted war were

driven, Alas, Pensylla, stay that pious tear!

When with that fall the empyreal walls were Now, hither come, I fain thy voice would hear. riven, Like music when the soul is dreaming,

Which hell to its black welkin jarred; Like music dropping from a far-off sphere, And when in ether God from chaos hurled

The wondrous fabric of a new-born world,

IV.
And yon star-spangled firmament unfurled,
E’en then thou wert, O mighty bard ! And now, with iridescent points of fire,

The sun red-sinking tips yon distant spire; O'er earth thy numbers shall not cease to roll O’er wooded hills and lawny meadows

Till man to live, who to them hearkened ; Shoots wide and level his expiring beams; Thy fame no less immortal than thy soul,

Then sinks to rest, like one sure of sweet Shall shine when yon proud sun is darkened,

dreams, Methinks I see thee now, O bard divine !

'Mid pillowing clouds and curtaining shaWhere ripen no fair joys that are not thine,

dows. And God's full love delights on thee to shine. Night's ebon wings brood darkling o'er the Still by the heavenly muses fired.

earth; And in obedience swift to high command,

The stars gleam out, the meek-eyed moon Thou sweep'st the sacred lyre with matchless comes forth; hand,

The evening hymn of praise, the song of mirth, While seraphs in mute rapture round thee Rise gratefully from man's abode. stand,

O Night! I love her sombre majesty ; As one by God alone inspired.

'Tis sweet, her double solitude to me!

Pensylla, leave me now, alone I'd be, And thou Beethoven wizard king of sound,

Alone with darkness and my God! Once exiled from thy realms, but not discrowned,

O thou whose shadow is but light's excess, Assist me; for my spirit, thrilling

The echo of whose voice but silentness, With thy surpassing harmony, is mute, To one, for whom in vain thy lamps now burn, As when the echoes of a dreaming lute

A hearing deign, nor from thy footstool spurn With music weird the ear is filling.

The offering of a sorrowing mind! When Silence clasped thee in her dismal spell, And as but now in darkness downward whirled, And earth-born Music sang her sad farewell, Thy likeness dim, that thereby might the world, Thy mighty genius, as in scorn,

Behold thy star-dropt firmament unfurled. Arose in silent majesty to dwell,

So in my night let me but find Where from harmonious spheres thou heardst New realms, where thought and fancy may reto swell

joice; Sounds scarce by angels heard, e'en in their Let its long silence ne'er displace thy voice dreams,

But in my soul pour radiance from above; Which at thy bidding wove a thousand themes, Me so inspire with truth, faith, courage, love, And, flowing down in rich pellucid streams, That thou and man my work shall well apFilled organ grand and silvery horn,

prove, With limpid sweetness touched each dulcet And I shall be resigned string,

Though smitten deaf and blind! Made martial bugle and wild clarion ring, Soft flute provoked, like some lone bird of And now, O harp of the mournful voice, farespring,

well! To breathe love-lays of hope forlorn ;

As night-winds wailing down some spectred Woke shrilly reed to many a pastoral note,

dell, Thrilled witching lyre, and lips melodious

In memory still my spirit haunting, smote,

I hear thine echoes burdened with the swell Till earth in tuneful ether seemed to float, As first when sang the stars of morn ;

Of long-sung monody and long-tolled knell, Till wondering angels were entranced to chime I'll hang thee up again in Sorrow's hall,

And dirges o'er the dead past chanting. With harp and choral tongue thy strains sub- Where Night and Silence spread oblivion's pall Jime,

O'er joys that, one by one, like sere leaves fall, And bear thy name beyond the blight of time, And leave the stricken soul to weep. Heaven's halls harmonious to adorn.

Henceforth I sing in happier, bolder strains.

What's lost to me is God's; what yet remains, Ah me! could I with ken angelic scan

Still his own gifts. In endless light he reigns, Celestial glories hid from mortal man,

And reck’ning of my long and voiceless I'd deem this night a day supernal !

night will keep. Could music, born in some far-singing sphere,

MORRISON HEADY. Float sweetly down and thrill my stricken eår,

I'd pray this hush might be eternal ! Elk Creek, Spencer County, Ky.

From the British Quarterly Review.

equal laws which he had the wisdom to de1. Pamphlets on England, Ireland, and vise, the industry to elaborate, and the hu

America; On Russia, etc. By 'Rich- manity to impose wherever ruined feudalism ARD COBDEN. Ridgway. 1836.

had left society an unsheltered wreck. 2. Speeches of Mr. Covden on Peace, Re- And when we look down the roll of public trenchment, and Reform. 1849.

men since the Revolution, we are constrain. 3. History of the Anti-Corn Law League. little trace has been lefc upon the sands of

ed to ask ourselves again and again, how By H. PRENTICE. Manchester. 1847. 4. Biography of the Late R. Cobden, Esq have held power, as it is called, in their

time by the great majority of those who M. P. By John McGILCHRIST. 1865.

day! Even of Walpole and Pitt, how

much is practically remembered ? — less by The saying of Lord Bacon, that · Death the educated many than of Burke, Adam opens the gate of Fame, and shuts the gate Smith, Wilberforce, or Macintosh. The of Envy after it,' is but half true of politi- year gone by has seen the last of two of cians. On the evening of a statesman's our foremost men, each in his way without funeral Jealousy and Grudge drink their compeer, but in their ways so entirely diflast cup of malice; and through the aisles ferent that, save for the sake of contrast, of the cathedral Echo faintly sings, “ His they can hardly be spoken of together. name liveth evermore.' But is it always This is not the place or the fitting opportuso? Talleyrand, Castlereagh, Metternich, nity to speak of the illustrious minister Pozzo di Borgo, the men who plied the whose mortal career has lately closed. Nor loom of Europe's diplomatic fate at Paris would it be a gracious or a grateful task on and Vienna, and upon whose very bon mois our part, to inquire what the probable efgovernments and nations hung, — who fect of time may be upon his reputation. thinks or speaks of any of them now? At present we have to perform another duty • They are all gone, in the words of Car- that of endeavouring to recall the fealyle, sunk down, down, with the tumult tures of a man who, without any of the adthey made; and the rolling and the tramp- ventitious aids of birth or fortune, raised ling of ever new generations passed over himself, in the most aristocratic and moneythem, and they hear it not any more for- worshipping country in the world, to a posiever.'

tion of influence and power the like of But there is a distinction solid and real which no man without rank or office has of to be drawn between the men who have late years exercised amongst us. If Richspent their lives in diplomatic or executive ard Cobden be forgotten, it will be because work and those who, though they have never the good that men do does not live after worn the livery of office, have either as them; and this we are bound to disbelieve. publicists or legislators, or both, wrought Whatever he accomplished in public life important changes in the condition of their was not only professedly, but on all hands country, and in the plight of their fellow- was confessedly for the uplifting of the peo

One may even distinguish between ple, and for the rendering permanently betthe tribute which popular memory pays to ter their condition, and that of their neighthe longevity of good in a man's works, and bours. Purer and nobler and wider aiins to the comparative evanescence of result in no man ever cherished. That he sometimes those performances of his which attract mistook the best way to their accomplishmore attention and win more praise at the ment, and sometimes miscalculated the odds time. Tradition tells but a consused tale of and chances of the political game, is only Alfred's heroic ousting of the Dane ; but to say that he was fallible, and at the same through the lapse of centuries it has never time enthusiastic. But his errors, now that faltered in its thanks to the founder of popu- he is gone, his severest critics cheerfully aclar order and popular right, of free school knowledge to have been mistakes of intellearning and of jury-made law. Of the lect, not of heart, and of but passing mosubtle statecraft of King Cromwell, how lit- ment, not of enduring evil. tle is remembered now ? but who forgets The family of Copden is traceable in the his agitator life in contraband conventicle territorial records of Sussex through several at Yarmouth or the Fens, and the part he centuries. With other yeomen of substance bore in the great strife of words at West we find one of them offered as surety for minster? For what is Napoleon_remem- the payment by Sir Roger de Covert, Lord bered gratefully by Western Europe ? of the Manor, for whose charges or fines by Not for Marengo, Austerlitz, or Wagram, tenure of chivalry distress had been levied but for that imperishable code of just and l by the Crown. In 1313, Thomas Copdea

men.

was sent to Westminister to serve in Par-him, or get him to stand for half an hour as liament for the episcopal city of Chichester; if he had one. and when the fear of Spanish invasion In his own demeanour, conduct, language, kindled the pride and pluck of all classes in and life, he was the most consistently rethe land, five and twenty pounds, a large gardless man of the pretensions and of the sum in those days, were subscribed by Tho- unrealities of rank we have ever known. mas Copden, to prepare for resisting the There was not a spark of envy or grudge in Armada. The like spirit warmed his illus- his disposition ; and if ever he thought of trious descendant when, repudiating the levelling, it was in the sense only of raischarge of indifference to the inviolability of ing up those below him, not of undermining the realm, he said in a speech advocating or despoiling those above him. naval retrenchment, — “I would never con- At the Grammar School of Midhurst, sent to our fleets being reduced to less than an under the mastership of Mr. Philip Knight, equality with those of any two other maritime he had the reputation of an open-hearted, powers. But with that, I think, we ought unassuming boy, steady and diligent at the to be content. The orthography of the pa- tasks set him, but evincing less quickness of tronymic seems to have changed early in parts than his elder brother Frederick. At the seventeenth century; but the charac- twelve he was transferred to Mr. Clarkson's teristic self-reliance, thrift, and contempt Seminary at Greta, in Yorkshire, where he for social affectation remained unchanged. remained three years. He had no turn for In 1629, when Charles I. resorted to the classical acquirements, the value of which device for raising money, of offering knight-in after years he was rather disposed to dehood to many persons among the smaller preciate. What he loved best, and what he and wealthier yeomanry, with the alterna- most completely mastered, was geography, tive of paying so much money to be excu- of which he probably knew more than ali sed, Thomas Copden preferred to pay his the rest of his classfellows put together. fine rather than assume a title which would The value he set on this branch of study is not have rendered him the happier, but noticeable throughout all his after-life. He which might have tended in some sort to was the comparative anatomist of modern alienate the sympathy, if not to excite the civilization ; and not only believed in the envy, of his farming neighbours. The worth of international sympathy as a husturdy self-respectful instinct

, as we know, manizing sentiment, but in the policy and did not die out in his descendants. No wisdom of international knowledge as indisman in our time who has been so fêted and pensable to a full reciprocity of benefits. flattered, showed less desire to forget the At a public meeting a friend incidentally measure of the family hearth by which in made use of the expression once, that as it childhood he had played, or to have it for- was not in the sight of Heaven good for gotten. Ambition he had abundantly; man to be alone, neither was it right or and if not covetous of riches, he was not wise for a community to try to dwell apart. insensible to their value, or wanting in the He cheered the expression vehemently, and self-denying energy and perseverance cal- afterwards commended in warm terms the culated to secure the immunity from priva- maxim conveyed in the illustration. To use tion they afford to those he loved. But his own words, • No nation, however strong readily and without a sigh he abandoned or good, can afford to play the hermit.? No the pursuit of wealth to nobler objects; and wonder that he continued througbout life when the opportunity presented itself of to prize what had been, as it were, in his choosing a permanent residence for the mind the ground-plan of his whole political evening of his days, his heart naturally system. In his last speech at Rochdale he turned to the old family home, in whose dwelt at considerable length upon the negquiet and seclusion he felt more happiness lect of geographical teaching in our schools, and pride than he could have done in the and told the tale of his search, when visitshowiest suburban villa, with its bronze ing Attica, for the stream of the storied Ilisgates, flower-houses, and rococo finery. He sus, and of his amusement when at last he used to say that he valued a man above discovered the insignificant brook hardly all other things for his having a backbone : containing water enough to serve the purthe want of almost every other member poses of some dozen laundresses : and yet, might be in some degree supplied; wig, as he chidingly observed, too many of our false teeth, glass eye, stutfed arm, and wood- fine young English gentlemen who, fresh en leg — all might be had for a trifle round from College, undertake to legislate for the the corner; but if a man was born without wants of the Empire and its relations with a backbone, you could never put it into the rest of the civilized world, know more

of the course of this classic land-drain than tory, as his limited opportunities enabled him
they do of the Amazon or the Mississippi. to obtain : and very early his mind became
For this he was soundly rated in the columns attracted by the study of those branches of
of the daily and weekly press, as if he had knowledge which furnish the materials of
been guilty of inculcating some darkening industrial philosophy. Opinions he could
heresy, or wished to discredit scholastic be hardly said to have thought of forming.
learning. But this was not his meaning or Although, if we knew all, it is probable that
his aim. He thought indeed that the uni- we should be able to trace very early the
form drill of upper class intellect in Greek seemingly haphazard shedding of seed,
prosody, Latin verse, and the religion of which in his genial mind quickly struck
Olympus, was an inadequate substitute for root and slowly but steadily grew, although
modern knowledge, in the youth of a ruling unnoticed and unnoticeable for many a
class. No man had a greater respect for year to come. In the fluctuations of trade
true scholarship of any and of every kind; the old merchant proved unfortunate ; while
but he knew that one-half the young his studious nephew, having belied his fore-
men who, by the right divine of territorial bodings and thriven as well as risen in life,
rank or fortune, enter Parliament at an had the gratification of repaying his anxious
early age, have never willingly spent an though undiscerning care by contributing to
hour in the study of the Classics, which at his comfort in his declining years.
Eton and Christchurch they regard simply On quitting his uncle's warehouse, young
as the plague of their idle lives. And being Cobden undertook the duties of a commer-
a man wholly devoid of superstition, whether cial traveller, and showed so much activity
social or educational, he could not help and discrimination in that capacity, that
laughing aloud at that which prescribes a he was early enabled to obtain a junior
uniform system of mental training, so bar- partner's share in a house trading both in
ren of flower or fruit, to the exclusion or neg- Manchester and London. He threw him-
lect of teachings that might prove less irk- self with energy into the development of
some and that might fairly be expected to the particular branch of manufacture with
serve a more practical purpose.

which his name was subsequently associatAt sixteen he began his unindentured ap- ed; and in a few years the firm, mainly prenticeship to trade under his uncle, who owing to his personal skill, perseverance, was an extensive warehouseman in East- and enterprise, had acquired a high reputacheap. The knowledge derivable from tion. In his leisure hours he continued to books was regarded at that time as wholly enlarge his stock of general information, out of place in a youth bound to follow bus- and from the outset felt longings he could iness and nothing else. There might be not wholly restrain, to have his say

about nothing actually wrong in his skimming what was publicly passing around him. He through a novel once in a way; and of saw the children of the working classes course it was all right to read a chapter or growing up without any species of instruca Psalm on a Sunday night before going to tion, and when they drew near the verge bed; always provided that he was not too of maturity left without any species of sleepy to forget to put out the candle, a intellectual relaxation, or any ineans of circumstance fairly presumable. But as for qualifying themselves to enjoy it. He apstudy of any kind, or the collecting of infor- plied himself with zeal to the local remation, even about trade, from books, medy of both evils. His voice, his pen, pamphlets, or newspapers, the thing was and his purse were devoted to the encourdeemed an absurdity or an affectation ; agement of free schools in Manchester; and and when the beardless youth betrayed he was one of the founders of the Atheneleanings that way, he incurred at first pity um in that city, one of the first institutions for his want of sense, and then reproof for of the kind established in England. For the his obdurate wilfulness in thus misusing purpose of extending the connections of his his time. Luckily for himself and for the house he made several journeys abroad, by world, however, he still went his way, work- which his views were greatly expanded, and ing hard and well by daylight and by dusk, as he used himself to say, his islander vaniand never neglecting the business of his ty and pretension cut down. Love of counrelative till the doors of the warehouse try was with him not an exclusive, but a closed. But when his companions had be- preferential love. He did not want to grow taken themselves to the amusements befit- rich himself by overreaching others or by ting their time of life, or were glad to enjoy grinding them down, and he did not want an early sleep, he loved to occupy himself his country to do as it would not be done with such books of travels, biography, and his-by. He had a thorough faith in the doc

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