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Blackwood's Magazine, .
IL BUSH-LIFE IN QUEENSLAND. Part IV., Blackwood's Magazine,



Fraser's Magazine,



Fraser's Magazine,

V. AN INDO-ANGLIAN POET. By James Payn, Gentleman's Magazine,
VI. THE PROPER USE OF THE City CHURCHES, Nineteenth Century,
VII. THE PILLAR OF PRAISE. By Emily Pfeiffer, Contemporary Review,


Saturday Review,

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For EIGHT DOLLARS, remitted directly to the Publishers, the LIVING Age will be punctually forwarded for a

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LOVE'S DAWN AND DEATH. Lo! in a dream Love came to me and cried, A YEAR ago for you, dear, and for me,

“The summer dawn creeps over land and sea, Love was a new-born bright and fairy thing ;
The golden fields are ripe for harvest-tide, It turned all earth to heaven, all grief to glee,
And the grape-gatherers climb the mountain- We sighed for joy and sang for sorrowing

In that sweet spring.
The harvest joy is come, I wait for thee,
Arise, come down, and follow, follow me.”

How could we guess that love would ere grow And I arose, went down, and followed him ;

old, The reaper's song came ringing through the Who saw its infant hours run idly by? air,

How could we know its kisses would grow cold Below, the morning mists grew pale and dim, Who kissed so oft ? and how could you and I And on the mountain ridge the sun's bright rim

Dream love could die ? Rose swiftly, and the glorious dawn was there.

And yet for us love lives no more to-day, I followed, followed Love, I knew not where. Though how it died not you nor I can tell; Through orange groves and orchard ways we That we can ne'er re-bind a broken spell,

We only know its charm has passed away, went, The cool fresh dew lay deep on grass and

And so farewell ! tree, Above our heads the laden boughs were bent The world is joyous in the golden June, With weight of ripening fruit; the faint sweet The lark sings sweetly and the rose is red, scent

Yet earth seems sad, the bird's song out of tune, Of fragrant myrtles drifted up to me:

And all the scent of summer flowers fled, Blindly, 'O Love, blindly I followed thee!

Now love is dead. O Love, the morning shadows passed away From off the broad fair fields of waving Still hearts meet hearts and lips to lips are wheat ;

pressed, I followed thee, till in the full noon day

Still earth is fair and skies are bright and blue; The weary women in the vineyards lay;

Perchance it may be in some happier breast, The tall field flowers drooped fading in the Some soul that to another soul is true, heat;

Love lives anew. I followed thee with bruised and bleeding

Gentleman's Magazine.

G. V. K. feet. Upon the long white road the fierce sun shone, And on the distant town and wide waste

plain, O Love, I blindly, blindly followed on,

THE AULD ASH-TREE. Nor knew how sharp the way my fee: had gone ;

THERE grows an ash by my lone door, Nor knew I aught of shame or loss or pain, An' a' its boughs are buskit braw

Nor knew I all my labor was in vain. In fairest weeds o'simmer green, The sun sank down in silence o'er the land,

An' birds sit singing on them a': The heavy shadows gathered deep and black;

But cease your sangs, ye blithsome birds, Across the lonely waste of reeds and sand

And o' your liltin' let me be ;

Ye bring deid simmers frae their graves
I followed Love; I could not touch his hand,
Nor see his hidden face, nor turn me back,

To weary me — to weary me!
Nor find again the far-off mountain track.

There grows an ash by my lone door, Blindly, O Love, blindly I followed thee: An' a' its boughs are clad in snaw;

The summer night lay on the silent plain, The ice-drap hings at ilka twig, And on the sleeping city and the sea ;

And sad the nor' wind soughs through a'. The sound of rippling waves came up to me. Oh, cease thy mane, thou nor'lan' wind,

O Love, the dawn drew near; far off again And o' thy wailin' let me be, The grey light gathered where the night had Thou bringst deid winters frae their graves lain.

To weary me - to weary me! On through the quiet street Love passed and cried,

Oh, I would fain forget them a', “The summer dawn creeps over land and Remembert guid but deepens ill ; sea;

As gleids o' licht, far seen by nicht,
Sweet is the summer and the harvest-tide; Mak the near mirk but mirker still.
Awake, arise, Love waits for thee his bride." Thou silent be, thou dear auld tree,

And she arose and followed, followed thee, O' all thy voices let me be ;
O traitor Love! who hast forsaken me. They bring the deid years frae their graves
Corphill Magazine.

U. A. T. To weary me - to weary me!

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From Blackwood's Magazine. why, has no one appeared since worthy to THE REIGN OF QUEEN ANNE.

hold the candle to those great soldiers ? The reigns of the female sovereigns These are phenomena which do not enter of England hold a remarkable position into the theories of Mr. Darwin or the in our annals. Perhaps as a little com- calculations of Mr. Galton. All other pensation for the ill-treatment which ebbings and flowings may be gauged and their sex has always had in literature, it tabulated; but here is a kind of high has so happened that the two great and low tide, which is controlled by no epochs under which letters have specially moon, and foreseen by no astronomer. flourished in our country have been When it comes it awakens the world, if those of qur two queen-regnants, in not directly to applause and admiration, themselves as unlike as two human at least to the struggle of new forces, and creatures could well be; and this, no the exhilarating consciousness of life redoubt, is one reason why the ages of newed. The general course of living is Elizabeth and Anne have always specially stimulated, and every drop of salt water attracted the attention of men of letters. in every wave rises so much the higher But it has not been literature alone that upon the beach, dashes with more exhas given them importance. In both ultant foam of storm upon the rocks. cases these epochs themselves were of And those ages stand out upon the duller the most critical character, full of the level with a freshening of interest, an sargings of new elements, the struggles inexhaustible dramatic call upon our symof new forces with the old, and the full pathies. They detach themselves from tide of one and another of those great the background in which the great conwaves of mental energy which seem to cerns of the world are always lumbering rise and fall periodically among men, on, more or less dully, and make us aware though without leaving any trace by of what has been accomplished for good which their recurrence can be calculated. or for evil in the intervals. In ElizaComets and eclipses have no longer any beth's time the great passion of our mystery for us. We know when they modern national life was preparing; but will come as well as we know when the the stream had only gained grandeur and omnibus will pass the corner of the force and nobility by that swelling of all street; but we do not know when the its currents which preceded the catastrolair of mental revolution will bring such phe. In Anne's time chaos was subsiding constellations as those which adorned once more, the torrents calming down the “ spacious times of great Elizabeth” into their channels, the streams collectinto our firmament again, or vary them, ing to fill the national veins. Or, to as in the combinations which still make change the metaphor, these two great and giorious, though with a less exuberant wealthy epochs of history are like the light, the age of Anne. We are afraid banks between which a raging and tuthe days of Victoria will not shine with a multuous stream is making its furious similar lustre ; but as we are not specta- way.

From one eminence the cleartors, but actors in the drama at this pres- sighted spectator might foresee a national est moment, we may leave that calculation agony of troubles to come; and from the to those who come after us. In the other could look back upon dangers mean time, it is enough to mark how curi- miraculously overcome, and a passage acous is the recurrence of these high tides complished for the ark of safety through of energy and genius in the race, and storm and peril. how little they are traceable to any And even the most abstract of histori. conscious agencies, or come under any ans

the writers to whom men are not Established laws. Why, for instance, to men but only officials in the long processay nothing of the more ethereal soul of sion of events, kings and statesmen and the poet, did military genius leap over generals, – must permit a certain personDore than half a century from Marl-ality to appear when a woman holds, borough to Wellington ? And why, oh leven nominally, the chief place in the


historic scene. The group which sur- and of which it is the natural corollary rounds Queen Anne is remarkable in and conclusion. Though his work is full various ways. It is not that she herself of lively and graphic touches, the reader has, like her great predecessor, any is aware that it is not his custom to pretouch of genius, or even of that intense sent a series of word-pictures in place of a and large individuality which often takes sustained and serious narrative. Neither the place of genius, to make her remark- is there any fear that he will take refuge able; but there is a curious mixture of in the abundant gossip of the time, by the great and the paltry in her immediate way of amusing our minds, and withdrawcircle, and in the influences that move ing them from the great threads of meanthat circle so wonderful a combination of ing which traverse all, but which, amid motives and objects that are imperial in the confusion of warp and weft, it is not their vast importance, with impulses and always easy to keep hold upon. So far babble which are scarcely superior to a as Scotch affairs are concerned, it is, as housekeeper's room, that the comic and we have said, the natural sequel of his the tragical, the familiar and the heroic, great history. The Revolution Settleget mixed up in a way which never surely ment, with which that valuable work conwas seen before on so exalted a stage. cludes, important as it was, still left many The most conventional type of female points which were capable of being regovernment, the hackneyed devices of opened. It was a kind of betrothal rather broad comedy, to show how intriguing than marriage of two very different, in waiting-maids can manage a stupid mis- some particulars dissimilar and often tress, could not have been more perfectly jarring companions, neither of whom was realized than in this chapter of the great much inclined to yield to the other, and epic of English story; and yet the men for whose future accord and conjugal pushed in and out of office by these abi-jogging on together, with no more than gails were such men as Marlborough and lawful bickering, very substantial pledges Bolingbroke, and the affairs of the nation had to be taken. If the bridegroom was came to no fatal break-down under their arrogant and overbearing, the bride was influence. This strange group at the grim and fierce beyond the use even of head of affairs adds a whimsical element mediæval heroines; and as in every beto the great tale which is in some respects trothal there is always a possibility still so majestic and in others so trivial: and of severance, so in this one there were in conformity with this strange conjunc- moments when the silken leash was tion, the age itself sweeps along, - so strained to its utmost, and one or the great, so polished, so courtly; so mean, other ready to fling off the bondage, and so rude, so brutal ; so full of piety and stamp upon the uncompleted contract. simplicity, and the most depraved morals The story of the concluding passages, and the loudest vice; swearing like the and of the accomplished fact of the Union, coarsest trooper, yet writing like Addison, is told more clearly and more fully in that the paradox is kept up throughout, these pages than it has yet been told, and enters into every detail.

with an indication of the vital points of It is scarcely, however, the curious man- difference, which only an authority at ifestations of character, or picturesque once in Scotch law and history could contrasts of national life, which so abound have so thoroughly mastered; and very in the age of Anne, which have been Dr. interesting is the contrast and coupling John Hill Burton's * leading inducements of the two powers, who, the legal fetters to add this fine and full study of an epoch once forged, have on the whole kept on so important, to the valuable history of their way with so much harmony, and as Scotland which we already owe to him, much mutual comprehension as perhaps

was possible. This concluding chapter • A History of the Reign of Queen Anne. By John of the separate annals of his country Dr. Hill Burton, D.C.L., Historiographer-Royal for Scotland. '3 Vols. Edinburgh: W. Blackwood & Sons. Burton owed to us — and he has paid the

debt thoroughly.




But even the Union, important as it is, | ancing a meagre estate, has always been is but one of the events in Queen Anne's a favorite object of derision: but this reign, the great animating thought and makes the extraordinary unanimity of the inspiration of which were the Protestant national sentiment only the more apparsuccession, - a principle which made En- ent. Whatever was to happen to the gland at that period — notwithstanding all nation, one thing it was resolved should the difference of politics, lively enough not happen. England might have a monand warlike at all times — more surely a arch she hated. Such a thing had been, unanimous nation than she had ever been. and had been endured: but a Popish king Nothing can show more clearly the pro- she would not tolerate. Notwithstanding found distrust with which the Catholic the existence of a by no means insignificreed had imbued the whole race than cant Jacobite party, and of a large class, this passionate national sentiment. The which, without courage enough to be great Protestant King William 'had lived Jacobite, had romantic leanings that way, and died unbeloved and unsympathetic; or a kind of fantastic sympathy with a a great man, no doubt, but one who fallen king and banished race, this feeling deither conciliated the prejudices nor at- was so general that agitation, great and tracted the affections of the country, universal enough to be called unanimous, which he on his side did not love; and sprang up in a moment at any menace the choice of the new line in which the from St. Germains, or any hint of intercrown was to descend, was one which ference from France. The English peomust have wounded the beliefs and incli- ple were under the influence of a scare, nations of many in a country where primo- as the French people have been in recent geniture has outlived all changes. Nor days. When a nation takes fright it is was there anything in the character of generally for no small matter, nor is the the house of Hanover to call forth national panic an easy thing to deal with. We enthusiasm. The narrow mind, which so indeed pretend to smile when we see the often goes with narrow possessions, a passionate terror of our neighbors across strong nationality totally alien from our the Channel for the red ghost of revoluown (notwithstanding those strenous rela- tion, of which they have so much better a tionships of race which were not dis- knowledge than we have. But the same covered, or, at least, insisted upon, till agony of fear confused men's judgments long after), and manners which were in Queen Anne's day, in respect to her neither charming in themselves nor capa- possible successors. At the merest ble of modification, — made the foreign glimpse of a returning Stewart the counelector, the “German lairdie,” in his own try entirely lost its self-possession. And person, a figure most unlikely to call forth from the balance of power in Europe to any enthusiasm. Dr. Burton speaks of the sermon of a popular preacher in St. this contemptuous nickname as a proof Paul's, everything that could by the reof the popular misconception of the an- motest construction lead towards this end, tiquity and importance of the house from brought on a fit of that furious fear which which we sought our reigning line. But is one of the most terrible of passions. the six-and-thirty quarterings of Teutonic Dr. Burton keeps the action of this heraldry have never been impressive to great national influence very clearly bethe English intelligence, and we doubt fore us - not allowing himself to be led whether the fullest understanding of them away as so many are by the exciting and would have much changed the sentiment brilliant details of the war itself to a forwhich suggested that felicitous title. No- getfulness of its great inspiration. Most body knows better than our historian, or of us, to tell the truth, recall only with an has more clearly pointed out, the intol- effort the reason why Blenheim was erant insularism and contempt of other fought at all. We are as much at a loss as people, which is one of the great national Southey's peasant children to remember characteristics of Englishmen; and a "what good came of it at last," and "what

“ tremendous weight of pedigree overbal- | they killed each other for."

The war of

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