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be very difficult to contrive an agreeable surprise for her. If that be not a real vexation-"

"I allow it fully; but tell me, will your continued grumbling and stamping with your feet avail anything? And if they be ineffectual, of what use is it to indulge in them?"

"What use? what use? What a question!

One is born with an impatient temper, just as with hair of a particular colour, because it has pleased God, and that is all."

"No, no, that is not all; for we may improve our tempers, but cannot change the colour of our hair. Besides, colour is a matter of indifference, whilst a bad temper occasions unhappiness to ourselves and others also."

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I venture to say, that you, who preach so well, were, in your youth, scarcely better then I?"

"I was worse, for I had not, like you, a godmother who is an angel of sweetness, to set me an example. Time and reason alone have corrected me.”

"Cannot I have recourse to the same tutors?"

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'They are more severe than you imagine, and we deserve not to profit by their lessons, if we despise those that affection dictates in our youth."

"But, really, can I help feeling impatient just now?"

"Yes, to be sure; instead of keeping your mind fixed on one point, try to forget it; take your work-a book."

"A book! a fine resource!

You know I hate reading."

"Between ourselves, that dislike is not very creditable at your age, as it arises from your reading so badly."

"That may be, but what does it signify to you?" replied the impertinent little girl.

“Oh! nothing at all!" continued the servant. “I only regret, for your own sake, that you should not have the resource which an occupation so agreeable would furnish at all times."

"Do you think that I shall never know how to read well ?”

"An art is only to be acquired by practice, and if, out of seven days in the week, you pass four without opening a book—”

"I shall not always do so."

"My child, days succeed to days, months to months, years to years; time hurries us on with our vain intentions, and at last we reach, imperceptibly, an age when it is too late to begin again."

"Do you mean to say that this will be my case?" said the little girl, with an air of pique.

"Why not? It is that of more than one little girl, brought up with too much indulgence, who passes her life in making fair promises, without troubling herself to keep them."

"You are more severe than my godmother, or even my godfather, who is not very indulgent; for they do not despair, as you do, of the future prospects of a girl of twelve years old."

"Twelve years! Do you consider yourself, then, very young at twelve? Do you not know that there are countries where young ladies marry at that age?”

"You are joking."

“I am telling you the truth. Although we live in a less precocious climate, it is certain that a child of twelve is quite capable of being guided by reason, when she has the happiness of being brought up by sensible people, at least if she be not an idiot. I knew a young person- -Are you attending to me?"

"Excuse me, but I cannot help looking into the street. Well, this young person?" "She depended, like you, on her extreme youth, and said she should have time to study when placed at a boarding-school. Meanwhile, she scarcely knew how to put a few sentences together, nor to distinguish a full stop from a comma, and was as unable to understand what she read as to make it intelligible to others. She always found a pretext for sending away her writing master without taking her lesson."

"Why do you hide your meaning?" interrupted the young lady; "you are speaking of me."

"It is well that you see yourself in this picture," continued the servant, laughing; "but I assure you this is no invention, and that the young lady in question is still living under the name of Lucinda. She was scarcely thirteen when her mother died, leaving a husband in embarrassed circumstances with four children, of whom she was the eldest. The plan of sending the little girl to boarding-school was obliged to be abandoned, on account of her father's difficulties; the writing master was dismissed. The afflicted father then appealed, and perhaps for the first time, to the reason of his eldest daughter on the subject; he sent for her into his study, and spoke to her, as nearly as possible, in these terms :--' I shall be ruined, my dear Lucinda, if, young as you are, you do not endeavour to enter into my position and assist me to extricate myself honourably, the precarious state of my fortune prohibiting assistance from others; but if you will second me, a few years of effort will, I hope, secure to us future peace and comfort. You must take your mother's place at the counter, as well as in the house; become the instructress of your little sisters; in short, you must cease to be a child, as heretofore.' Lucinda, struck with astonishment at these words, did not reply. Her father inquired the cause of her silence, and fearing that she might not have understood him, was about to resume his address, when she interrupted him. 'I have quite understood you, dear father, and I really desire to comply with your wishes; but how can I do so, not being able either to read or write?' added Lucinda, casting her eyes down. 'Neither read nor write,' repeated the tradesman; for, absorbed in business, he had left the early education of his daughter to his wife. Have you not had a writing master! Did not your mother teach you to read?' 'She deserves no reproach,' replied Lucinda; it is I who refused to profit by her lessons, because I thought I had time enough to make amends for these years of idleness. Oh, I now feel myself very culpable! You are indeed, my daughter, and I am very unhappy; for the destruction of the hope I placed in you takes from me my last consolation.' The grief depicted on her father's countenance touched Lucinda so deeply, that she said with energy: Do not give it up yet, my good father; all may still be remedied by application and industry. Only have the kindness to give me every evening a lesson in reading, writing, and arithmetic; as for the rest, I will recall the memory of my mother to my aid.' The father, charmed to hear her thus

speak, embraced her tenderly, and immediately began his tuition. Lucinda, who had wanted only judgment and inclination, made rapid progress as soon as she discovered both; she persevered in her studies and domestic economy, without being discouraged by difficulties; but she has since owned, that it was not without trouble that she conquered her childish and idle habits, and that perhaps she would never have succeeded, but for the imperative circumstances in which she was placed."

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"What more is required to convince you of the necessity of improving the opportunities for instruction which present themselves, that we may be prepared for whatever may happen?"

"I conclude, then, that not being more foolish than your Lucinda, it will be sufficient for me to wish it, in order-Oh, now my brother is coming!"

If the reader have not already guessed, it is time to inform them that this scene took place twelve years after the birth of the three children Chiron, at the house of Madame Olympe de St. Yves, between Hersilia and Angelique, and it was her brother Solomon whom the little girl was expecting with so much impatience.

ORIGINAL ESSAYS.

POET, STATESMAN, AND WARRIOR.

To which of these representative men does the world owe most? To which is mankind most indebted for carrying forward moral advancement, intellectual refinement, material good, and increased means of happiness? To which, in fact, is due the highest place in the estimation of the thoughtful and the wise?

First, let us inquire what we understand by the terms, poet, statesman, and warrior. By the word "poet" is not understood the mere rhymester or ballad writer; but we take it in its higher sig nification-that of a creator, inventor, and discoverer. Nor do we mean by the term "statesman" the mere member of parliament, the representative of so many votes, the mouthpiece of a faction, or the tool of a despot. No; statesmanship has high aims and ennobling aspirations; it is given to the statesman to guide the helm of the governmental ship, so that at last it may reach the harbour of popular favour. The obtainment of popular favour, however, is not, and never should be, the chief end of the thorough statesman; for the advancement of the happiness of mankind, and the proper working out of a well-digested theory of govern

ment, are objects infinitely more worthy the statesman's ambition than any degree of popularity he might by any means achieve. So also by "warrior" we do not mean the simple hired soldier; for in the noblest arena of his vocation the warrior must also be the possessor of the arts of strategy, diplomacy, and the right method of arranging forces in such a way as to lead irresistibly to certain given results.

The subject is a wide one, and to exhaust it would require not an essay merely, but a treatise; not a treatise simply, but a volume; not a volume only, but a library; not a library even, but the experience, the judgment, the calm consideration of a whole generation of wise and thoughtful writers. Still, while only on the threshold of a vast edifice, we may be allowed to peep through the open doorway and take note of the interior. While merely glancing at the salient points of an inquiry, we may possibly lead the way to more careful and enthusiastic searches after truth.

In the early ages of the world the offices of poet, statesman, and warrior were often united in one person, as in the case of David, who was also priest

and king. Numerous instances of this
union of qualities are to be found in
history, both sacred and profane. Cæsar
was a poet and a statesman as well as a
warrior, and it is in the first two cha-
racters that he lives in our day. The
names of many warriors as great as he
are almost forgotten; and why? Simply
because their natures lacked the origina-
tive and governing elements. In all cases
the poet, as the creator, the originator,
the deviser, the monitor, stood highest in
the world's estimation. As has been well
aid by one of our modern writers-

The merchant in rich ventures tempts the seas;
The humble peasant fain by toil would please;
The warrior honour seeks in deadliest fight;
The statesman hopes to rise in laboured flight;
The painter looks for fame through wildest phan-

tasy;

The poet wins the world with minstrelsy!

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And thus it is only as the statesman and the warrior become originators only, in truth, as they become poets-do they set their mark upon the time. The power of originality is the test of success; the faculty of creation, invention, or adaptation-call it what you will-is the true sign of genius. And it is the possession of genius alone that stamps a man great, either as a poet, statesman, or warrior. Shakspere is paramount as a poet, by reason of the power which enabled him to seize the salient points of human character, and present them to us in novel combinations with the ordinary circumstances of life. Napoleon and Wellington were great warriors, by reason of their power in controlling circumstances, if we may so speak; or, in other words, by reason of the mighty and inherent force of will which overawed and overcame the minds of lesser men. I mean, of course, Napoleon the great, not Napoleon the little, though even he is not altogether deficient of that creative, or poet faculty, that helps men to rise above their fellows. Pitt was confessedly a great statesman, and he only missed immortality because his nature wanted the poetic, the originating element. Not so Peel, who, had he not been a statesman, would have been great as a poet or a warrior. What causes us to peruse with such admiring gusto the despatches of a Wellington, a Napier, or

VOL. III.-NEW SERIES.

a M'Clintock? Why, as it seems to me, the poetic element with which the minds of these men were imbued. It is when to the poetic temperament are united capacities for government and action that the real great man comes forth. Let me illustrate my meaning by an apologue :— In the days when the earth was young, Jupiter called before him all the people of the world, that he might divide among them the good things it possessed. The people came, and the division was made: at last, when the business of the day was over, the poet spoke, and asked his share. "Where wert thou, O idler," exclaimed Jove," when all these gifts were in course of bestowal?" "I was sitting at thy feet, looking up into thy face and listening to thy voice," replied the poet. "Alas!" said Jove, "I have given away all I had to bestow. To the statesman, power; to the warrior, fame; to the farmer, harvests; to the trader, profit; to the labourer, health and vigour for work. There is nothing left. But if thou art content to dwell with me in heaven, thou shalt be made welcome there!"

And thus it has ever been. The poet dwells in a heaven of his own imagining; with a quicker sense than most, he has also a keener relish for the divine and beautiful things of this beautiful world. Hence he has given to us a multitude of apt sayings, that in all languages form part and parcel of the vulgar tongue; an infinity of quaint exquisite conceits, that are present, unconsciously as it were, to the minds of all of us; a power of thought and expression that refines, while it informs, our grosser natures; a philosophic system, independent of rules; a graud theory, that is alike humanising and undefinable.

But there is a lower standard by which to judge of the usefulness of our representative men. Though to the statesman and warrior most generally belong the more present and flattering marks of the world's approbation, in the shape of honour and material qualifications, power, wealth, and popularity, is it nothing that the poet possesses the inexpressible pleasure of knowing that he too moves the world?

A noble and a spacious realm

That human thought may overwhelm;
Mountains, and clouds, and rivers bright,
His swift and eager soul delight;
A bitter scorn for all that's vile,
For all that's pure and great a smile,-
These every poet's heart engage,
These are a royal heritage.

The shadows fly before his eyes,
And he discerns eternities;

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The majesty of Nature's face,
Ethereal, soft, and joyous grace,
Till, lost in wonder, he forgets
All other pleasures and regrets;
He sees not death, decay, or age,
The immortal is his heritage.

feeling will probably bring China and Japan into the family of civilised nations.

In this view of the case, then, the warrior, no less than the statesman and the poet, is entitled to our approbation.

The true

It is well, perhaps, that aims less high But shall we inquire to which of these and noble engage the attention of most representative men the world owes most? men. To the eye of the statesman there Is it not apparent? Have we not made must ever be present the mean and com- it plain? Does it not strike us all? Will mon things of the world, commingled any dispute that to the poet belongs the with the ambitious yearnings, the first place as a civiliser, in right of his glorious hopes, the improvable tendencies divine office as an originator? that we are taught to believe belong statesman has to deal with great princiespecially to the governing minds of a ples, vast generalisations, mighty theories, nation. So also with the warrior. Even immense practical problems-all of them in the very highest grades of the military good and useful, doubtless, in their sphere. and naval service, common and alike to The warrior leads his hosts to fight, and the mind of a Nelson and a Garibaldi, risks his fame, too, upon a theory; but much that is little and apparently insig- it is a theory in which the physical nificant must be familiar. Details must element largely enters-a concatenation of be conquered before the great result force against force, strategy against stracan be achieved. To conquer others, a tegy, might against might, power against But the true man must learn to conquer himself; power, man against man. and not only learn, but accomplish it. poet is a creative man, an original man, Thus, in our own persons, each in his a progressive man, a teaching man, a own little sphere, we may become thinker! And only as the warrior or generals and premiers; for have we not the statesman is one of these can he claim the vile tendencies of our fallen nature recognition from the world. to subdue ?-the errors of inexperience, Palmam qui meruit ferat !—(Be his the youth, and physical and moral weak-palm who hath the conquest gained!) ness to amend and conquer? Have we not always before us the examples of the great and good; and do not the right principle and correct practice teach us that, in whatever position in life we may be cast, there are yet others below, who look up to us for example in life?

It would not be difficult to adduce instances from ancient and modern history of the good achieved by singleminded men in various social grades; but we forbear. To sum up the results of our theory, therefore, we say that if to the statesman the world owes much of its knowledge in the science of government, it is also indebted to the warrior; for war has been, and often is, a civiliser. Wherever the Romans carried their arms, there also they took the arts of learned and civilised life. The thirst for conquest led the Moors to Spain, and the adventurers of Europe to the Eastern India. None, surely, can say that Spain and India were not the gainers. In our own day even, the same indomitable

ΤΟ

G. F. P.

WHEN "change" is written on the fleeting beams
Of summer sunshine, or the moonlit ray,-
When, with the morning, midnight's pleasing
dreams

Plume their bright wings, and vanish quick

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