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Unutterable love. Sound needed none,
A Herdsman, on the lonely mountain tops Such intercourse was his; and in this sort Was his existence oftentimes possessed. Oh, then, how beautiful, how bright appeared The written pronrise ! He had early learned To reverence the Volume which displays The mystery, the life that cannot die ; But in the mountains did he feel his faith; There did he see the writing all things there Breathed immortality, revolving life, And greatness still revolving ;-infinite! There littleness was not ;-the least of things Seemed infinite ; and there his spirit shaped Her prospects; nor did he believe,-he saw. What wonder if his being thus became Sublime and comprehensive ! low desires, Low thoughts had there no place ; yet was his heart Lowly; for he was meek in gratitude, Oft as he called those ecstasies to mind, And whence they flowed ;-and from them he acquired Wisdom which works through patience; thence he learned In many a calmer hour of sober thought, To look on nature with an humble heart, Self-questioned where he did not understand, And with a reverential eye of love.
Her giant form O'er wrathful surge, through blackening storm, Majestically calm, would go Mid the deep darkness white as snow ! But gentler now the small waves glide Like playful lambs o'er a mountain's side. So stately her bearing, so proud her array, The main she will traverse for ever and aye. Many ports will exult at the gleam of her mast! -Hush! hush! thou vain dreamer! this hour is her last. Five hundred souls in one instant of dread Are hurried o'er the deck; And fast the miserable ship Becomes a lifeless wreck. Her keel hath struck on a hidden rock, Her planks are torn asunder, And down come her masts with a reeling shock, And a hideous crash like thunder. Her sails are draggled in the brine That gladdened late the skies, And her pendant that kissed the fair moonshine Down many a fathom lies. Her beauteous sides, whose rainbow hues Gleamed softly from below, And flung a warm and sunny
Oh! many a dream was in the ship
To the dangers his father had passed ;
Dr. Slop and Obadiah, meeting.–STERNE. Imagine to yourself, a little squat, uncourtly figure of a Dr. Slop, of about four feet and a half, perpendicular height, with a breadth of back, and a sesquipedality of belly, which might have done honor to a sergeant* in the horse-guards.
Such were the outlines of Dr. Slop's figure, which—if you have read Hogarth's analysis of beauty, (and if you have not, I wish you would ;)—you must know, may as certainly be caricatured, and conveyed to the mind by three strokes as three hundred.
Imagine such a one-for such, I say, were the outlines of Dr. Slop's figure, coming slowly, along, foot by foot, waddling through the diri. upon the vertebræ of a little diminutive pony, of a pretty color-but of strength alack ! scarce able to have made an amble of it, under such a fardel, had the roads been in an ambling condition.—They were not.- Imagine to yourself, Obadiah mounted upon u strong monster of a coach-horse, pricked into a full gallop, and making all practicable speed the adverse way.
* Pror, săr'-gent.
Pray, Sir, let me interest you a momerit in this description.
Had Dr. Slop beheld Obauiah a mjie off, posting in a narrow lane directly towards him, at that monstrous rate, splashing and plunging like a devil through thick and thin as he approached, would not such a phenomenon, with such a vortex of mud and water moving along with it, round its axis,--have been a subject of juster apprehension 10 Dr. Slop in his situation, than the worst of Whiston's co.nets ? -To say nothing of the nucleus ; that is, of Cbadiah and the coach-horse. In my idea, the vortex alone of them was enough to have involved and carried, if not the doctor, at least the doctor's pony, quite away with it.
What then do you think must the terror and hydrophobia of Dr. Slop have been, when you read (which you are just going to do) that he was advancing thus warily along towards Shandy Hall, and had approached within sixty yards of it, and within five yards of a sudden tuin, made by an acute angle of the garden wall, and in the dirtiest part of a dirty lane,—when Obadiah and his coach-horse turned the corner, rapid, furious,-pop,-full upon him ! Nothing, I think, in nature can be supposed more terrible than such a rencounter,--so imprompt! so ill prepared to stand the shock of it as Dr. Slop was !
What could Dr. Slop do ?- he crossed himself- -Pugh! —but the doctor, Sir, was a Papist.—No matter; he had better have kept hold of the nmel.— He had so; nay, as it happened, he had better have done nothing at all; for in crossing himself he let go his whip, and in attempting to save his whip between his knee and his saddle's skirt, as it slipped, he lost his stirrup-in losing which he lost his seat; and in the multitude of all these losses (which, by the by, shew what little advantage there is in crossing) the unfortunate doctor lost his presence of rnind. So that without waiting for Obadiah's onset, he left his pony to its destiny, tumbling off it diagonally, something in the style and manner of a pack of wool, and without any
other consequenca from the fall, save that of being left (as it would have been) with the broadest part of him sunk about twelve inches deep in the mire.
Obadiah pulled off his cap twice to Dr. Slop ;-once as he was falling, and then again when he saw him seated. ---Illtimed complaisance had not the fellow better have stopped
his horse, and got off, and helped him? Sir, he did all that his situation would allow ;-but the momentum of the coachhorse was so great, that Obadiah could not do it all at once ; he rode in a circle three times round Dr. Slop, before he could fully accomplish it any how; and at last, when he did etop the beast, it was done with such an explosion of mud, that Obadiah had better have been a league off. In short, never was a Dr. Slop so teluted, and so transubstantiated, since that affair came into fashion.
Heroic Self-Denial.-LITERARY GAZETTE.
DARK burned the candle on the table at which the student of divinity was reading in a large book : “It all avails nothing, and nothing will ever come of it," said he fretfully to himself, and closed the volume, “I shall never become a preacher, I may study and tire myself as much as I will! The first sermon, in which I shall certainly hesitate, will without doubt render all this trouble vain; for do not I myself know the timidity and the peculiar misfortune which accompany me in every undertaking ?”
He now took from his dusty shelves a MS. and set hinself down to read: it was an account of Rome, and particularly of St. Peter's Church, which was described with all the enthusiasm of an artist. He suddenly rose, and clapping his hands together, said with transport, “ O heaven, I must certainly see all this myself!"
But how? one does not get to Rome for nothing; the finan'ces of the good student were in a very bad condition, and however carefully he examined and fumbled through all his pockets, he collected only a few pence, which certainly were not sufficient to pay his expenses to Rome. He went to bed quite restless, and even forgot to put out his candle, which at other times he never omitted ; but during this uneasy night, he thought of means to accomplish his purpose. The next morning he fetched an old clothes man, and sold every thing except the dress he had on, and a single shirt for change which he put in his pocket.
The sum, which he got from the greedy Israelite for all