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Fifth Series, Volume XXXVIII.
No. 1980. – June 3, 1882.
| From Beginning, 7 Vol. CLIII.
567 570 572 573 575
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Single Numbers of THE LIVING AGE, 18 cents.
Why dost thou weep?" Poor pilgrim, bur.
dened sore, FROM THE GERMAN OF KARL VON GEROK.
After these weary years, wouldst thou be “Why weepest thou?" How soft the words
home? come stealing!
O see! thy gentle Lord is gone before, What greeting, blessed Magdalene, is this?
And waiteth till his little child shall come; Fraught are its accents with a wondrous heal. Then thou, too, surely thy reward shalt reap
Why dost thou weep? They still thine anguish like a mother's kiss ! Methinks I hear that voice as thou didst now- Why dost thou weep?" Ay, Lord, one “ Why weepest thou?"
drop of peace
Thou canst in every cup of sorrow pour; “Why weepest thou?” So breathes the balmy And though on earth my grief shall never cease, air
Soon shalt thou dry these tears forevermore; After the winter frosts, this sweet spring day; Then shall the angels sing; "O mortal, now The blooming fields, the flow'rets rich and fair,
Why weepest thou?" The golden sunshine drive thy cares away ;
ANTONIA DICKSON. All nature sings in cadence sweet and low
Why weepest thou?”
“Why weepest thou ?” Dost thou thy Lord
bemoan? His precious body has the false world ta'en ; O see ! not death could keep him from his own;
Victorious o'er the grave he comes again, And tenderly his dear voice asks thee now —
"Why weepest thou?"
“Why weepest thou ?” The world afflicts
The lily gave her tint to you, thee sore!
The rose on you bestowed her blushes, O see ! him, too, they thrust the cold grave The pink hath lent its waxen hue, under,
The jasmine-bloom its fragrance luscious. And placed their watchers on the gate before, So I, to give my heart am fain And yet with mighty strength he brake To that sweet face where love doth reign; asunder.
So I my heart must fain surrender
Now would to Heav'n that love were judged Why dost thou weep?" Dost thou thy sins
by weight, bemoan ? Is that the stone at which thy soul doth And who were short of love should pain en
dure, quiver ?
For that such sentence ne'er should be my O see! in his dear eyes is love alone :
fate Our sins lie hidden in his grave forever ! Unless the scales were false : I then were O dread him not, and lull thy fears to sleep; Why shouldst thou weep?
Unless the scales were false, and gave no sign
Unto which side the balance did incline. “Why shouldst thou weep?” Is it that thou | Unless the scales were false and crooked quite, dost mourn
And none should know how love to weigh That over thee the cloud of grief is seen?
aright. O see! how bright the glorious Easter dawn Is rising on the fatal Easter e'en.
3. Trust, pray, and hope, nor 'neath thy burden
Did I but think my love could list to me, bow
With lusty voice then would I shout and sing ; Why weepest thou?
But sundered by hills, vales, and mounts are
we, “Why weepest thou?” Dost thou bewail the Nor can my voice to such far distance ring ; dead ?
We're sundered by the leaves of cornfields Here is but earth that back to earth was
He cannot hear me with such space between; Seek not the immortal in this narrow bed, We're sundered by the leaves of trailing vine,
The spirit soared on angels' wings to heaven ; He cannot hear me from his house to mine ; One day, and he will break the grave's charmed We're sundered by the leaves of poplars tall, sleep
He cannot hear me, he is out call.
E. M. CLERKE.
From The Quarterly Review.
and interesting personalities of the last JOURNALS OF CAROLINE FOX.
half-century. One or two sections, inIt is not surprising that this book, deed, of society predominate over the though only published at the commence- rest — those of science, of literature, and ment of this year, and that first of all in of the liberal school of theology of our an expensive form, should already have time. But the writer comes into contact reached a third edition; for it is a pecul. more or less with most classes at some iarly charming example of one of the point or other, and the index to the most attractive classes of books. Few book, which enumerates the persons. resubjects command so wide an interest as ferred to includes a surprising number of the personal characteristics of men and the familiar names of our century. In women who have played a distinguished the journals of a single year, for instance, part in life. When skilfully noticed and we pass rapidly from Thomas Carlyle to described, such particulars of habits, con. Mr. J. A. Froude, Frederick Maurice, versation, manners, and features, have at Chevalier Bunsen, Lady Franklin, Guizot, all times fascinated public attention. It Sir Robert Peel, Cobden and Palmerston is by details of this kind that we are best in the House of Commons, Mr. Forster, enabled to individualize the persons, by Elihu Burritt, Derwent Coleridge, Prowhose actions or writings we are at. fessor Owen, Francis Newman, Hallam tracted; and to most people, and espe. the historian, Louis Blanc, and Words. cially to English people, individuals in all worth, besides minor celebrities; and of the distinctness of such peculiarities are each some vivid and characteristic touch much more interesting than the work they is recorded. We move with the author have done, or the imperfect ideas they from one scene to another, and see with have developed. In one of the many her eyes and hear with her ears. Some. conversations with the late Mr. Mill re. times, indeed, it is only gossip she relates; corded in these volumes, he makes the but it is always thoughtful gossip, and curious and characteristic mistake of say. carries the interest of real experience and ing that “the French care most for per- observation. More generally she records sons, the English for things.” It is just the cream of her conversations with such the reverse. The French, for instance, people as we have named, and we have will at any time desert their leaders for the pleasure of being silent listeners in the sake of an idea; but English history some charming and instructive circle. is made up of the history of individuals,
The idea of such a book is delightful in and of the attachment of the followers itself; but the peculiar capacity of the wbo have gathered around them. Bos. author gives these volumes a rare and well's “ Life of Johnson” is a typically En- singular charm. It would have been in. glish book, and the bes literature of our teresting enough if a person of ordinary country is animated by personal feeling, intelligence, with her opportunities, bad and breathes in a personal atmosphere. simply recorded, day by day, reminis. It is this characteristic which is the real cences of the people she had met, and the source of our practical capacity; for the conversations she had heard. But Miss chief work of life consists in dealing with Fox, had evidently, in a remarkable depersons, not with things, and those who gree, the gift of eliciting the best thoughts care most for persons know them best. of those with whom she conversed, and It is no wonder, therefore, that a book was gifted also with an unusual power of has proved fascinating which brings us in easy narration and vivid description. It is every page into vivid and pleasant inter- rare, in the present day, to meet a book so course with a variety of the most brilliant beautifully written. The style is perfectly
simple and direct; the language is the • Memories of Old Friends ; being Extracts from easy talk of cultured English life; there the Journals and Letters of Caroline Fox, of peno is never the least sign of effort, strain, or jerrick, Cornwall ; from 1835 to 1871. Horace M. Pym. Third Edition, with Fourteen Origi- affectation; and yet every character and nal Letters from J. S. MillLondon, 1882.
every scene is depicted with lifelike vivid
ness. Carlyle, in one of his letters to mind and character. Her father, Robert her, speaks of her “swift, neat pen,” and Were Fox, held a considerable place desires her “to draw up, on half a sheet among the men of science of his day. of paper, an exact narrative ” of a certain After his death in 1877, Sir Joseph miner's act of heroism, “ authentic, exact Hooker, in his annual address to the in every detail of it;” and the book is Royal Society, said that they had suslike a collection of these swift, neat out- tained a severe loss in Mr. Fox, “eminent lines, on half-sheets of paper. They are for his researches on the temperature and not labored descriptions, but sudden the magnetic and electrical condition of sketches, as easily taken as photographs. the interior of the earth, especially in Every characteristic of interest in the connection with the formation of mineral people whom Miss Fox met seemed to veins, and who was further the inventor sprint itself instantaneously on her syn- of some, and the improver of other inpathetic mind, and to be as rapidly and struments, now everywhere employed in correctly reproduced. From a pathetic ascertaining the properties of terrestrial entry after her brother's death, in which
magnetism.” Both he and his wife she exclaims, - For whom should I now were earnest members of the Society of record these entries of my life?” it ap- Friends; and Caroline Fox, notwithpears that, though she had no idea of standing her sympathy with other forms the publication of her journals, she wrote of Christain belief and practice, remained them in the hope of their being of inter- firmly attached to the same community, est to her family, and they are thus Her quick and receptive nature seized the marked by a happy combination of the numerous opportunities for instruction, frankness of confidential intercourse and which were afforded by her father's large of the care bestowed on writings which and interesting circle of friends; and, as are intended for perusal by others. We the editor says, " it makes a tender and do not think there is an artificial remark striking picture — this young girl, with throughout the book. All is transpar- her deep reverence and vivid appreciation ently fresh, natural, and true. We see of all the magic world of thought in which the exact reflection which all these people she was permitted to roam, listening with and scenes produced in the mind and delight to the utterances of wise men, and heart of Caroline Fox; and if the bright storing up their words in her heart.” She ness and beauty of the mirror throws possessed, however, plenty of originality sometimes a more graceful light over and capacity for amusement; and to the them than we should ourselves have seen, last, there is a good deal of fun in her yet it never distorts them or disguises nature. Every two years the family visiheir real characters. The portrait pre-ited London, and the journey, in the early fixed to the book corresponds closely to part of her life, consumed three days, for the impression which the journals convey. her home was at Falmouth, and in a coun. Large, quiet, and kindly eyes, are com- try residence in its neighborhood called bined with a delicate and expressive Penjerrick. It was, of course, mostly in mouth; and the whole countenance be- London that she met the numerous men speaks a sweet union of seriousness, of distinction of whom we have spoken; humor, and kindliness of disposition. A but her father frequently took her to meet. few hours can hardly be passed more ings of the British Association; and Fal. pleasantly and more instructively than mouth itself, and its neighborhood, were with such a companion in such society. very fortunate in the visitors who were
A brief – a too brief — memoir, pre attracted there. Though always delicate, fixed to the book, gives the main facts of she seems to have enjoyed fair health Caroline Fox's life. She was born on the till about forty-four years old; but after 24th of May, 1819, and was one of the 1863 she had frequent attacks of illness three children of parents who were dis and weakness, and she was carried off by tinguished “not only by their fine old a sharp attack of bronchitis on the 12th of Quaker lineage,” but by great qualities of 1 January, 1871, when only fifty-two years of
age. Though her life was, on the whole, his immediate presence.” At the cona very bright one, she suffered some sharp cluding meeting his appearance is struck
Her only brother, Robert Bar- off with one of the writer's happy touches : clay Fox, to whom Mill's letters are ad
When Tom Moore arose with a little paper dressed, died of consumption in 1854, and in his little hand, the theatre was almost her mother in 1858; and the editor speaks knocked down with reverberations of applause. of another period of severe sorrow and... He proceeded to wonder why such a per. suffering, during which her journals are son as he was, a humble representative of lit. comparatively destitute of matters of gen-erature, was chosen to address them on this eral interest. But personal feelings and scientific occasion. He supposed that in this experiences are very sparingly revealed in intellectual banquet he was called for as one the extracts from these journals which of the light dishes to succeed the gros morceaux have been given to the public; and though of which we had been partaking, and he de. the motive which has prompted this re.
clared Science to be the handmaid, or rather
the torchbearer, of Religion. serve commands all respect, we cannot but indulge sometimes a feeling which she "Little Tom Moore," with metaphors herself expresses towards another writer: drawn from his experience of good living, “One has a vicious desire to know Miss celebrating the harmony of science and Martineau's private history.” We own to religion, forms an amusing and dainty a very vicious desire indeed to know more picture. It is curious to go back with our of Miss Fox's private history. Unless we author to the infancy of discoveries which are much mistaken, it would not only be have now grown to manhood; and, in her very interesting in itself, but would throw own phrase, she gives us "a very interan interesting light upon some other pri- esting insight into the birth of many ideas vate history. But we can well believe which have now got into jackets and trouthat the time has not come, if it ever can sers.” Geology at that date is in the come, for such revelations.
stage when Dr. Buckland was its boldest As is natural with the daughter of such representative among the clergy, and was a father, we start amidst scientific asso. concerning himself with its reconciliation ciations. The journals begin with a few with the Book of Genesis. In a lecture entries for the year 1835; but in 1836 the at Exeter after the meeting of the Assoeminent geologist, Sir Henry de la Beche, ciation, he “gave very clear details of the is vividly introduced to us, and we have gradual formation of our earth, which, he an amusing account of the meeting of is thoroughly convinced, took its rise ages the British Association at Bristol that before the Mosaic record. He says tbat year. It seems to have been as popular Luther must have taken a similar view, as a gathering then as now, for it was in bis translation of the Bible he puts doubtful at first whether the party would ist' at the third verse of the first chapnot have to go back disappointed. How- ter of Genesis, which showed his belief ever, says Miss Fox, “the ladies, dear that the two first verses relate to somecreatures, would not hear of that, so thing anterior. He explains the formaby most extraordinary muscular exertions, tion of hills with valleys between them by we succeeded in gaining admittance." eruptions uuder ground.” How startled That there was a similar mixture of social even Dr. Buckland would have been could and scientific attractions to that which he have been told of the millions of years still prevails at these meetings is amus- which modern geologists demand, or of ingly illustrated by the presence of Tom Mr. Darwin's hypothesis of the formation Moore, and his enthusiastic reception. of valleys by denudation with the aid of “We saw him," Miss Fox writes, “in all earthworms! Mr. Darwin, at this date, is his glory, looking, as Barclay” (her only described as the “fly-catcher” and brother) “said, 'like a little Cupid, with a “stone-pounder," who has decided that quizzing-glass in constant motion.' He “the coral insects do not work up from seemed as gay and happy as a lark, and it the bottom of the sea against wind and was pleasant to spend a whole evening in 'tide, but that the reef is first thrown up by