This last argument was irresistible; and, as we had made up our mind beforehand to yield to our friend's urgency were merely coquetting with him, like a lady delaying the rosy, glowing yes, or an angler pausing to enjoy (the humane brute!) the convulsive tugging of the finny captive of his skill-we agreed to get our fishingtackle in order, and be off next morning to Clovenford. We were accordingly stirring by daybreak. Alfred was with us by four, and, ere the coffee was filled out, or the cigars lighted, the Lounger came sidling into the room with his noiseless footfall. The partaking of the said coffee and cigars, previous to setting out upon an early drive, is one of the German luxuries which Alfred imported from the University of Göttingen, and a precaution against the effects of the raw morning air upon an empty stomach which we recommend to the serious attention of all true believers. This pleasing duty over, we bundled ourselves-rods, fishing-creels, and all-into the phaeton, which John had brought to the door. Alfred assumed the seat beside John, while the two seniors deposited themselves behind. It is true that we are all tolerable whips, but before breakfast the exertion is too much. Each man, wrapping himself close in his greatcoat, rolled his cigar round in his mouth, and, puffing out a huge volume of smoke, threw himself back into a corner. John shook the whip over the horses, and away It was a grey sort of a morning, rather dull and lowering, and evidently as uncertain as a civic dignitary what it ought to make of itself. It was all the same to us. The horses darted onward, and walls, houses, placards, and sign-boards, flew away behind us. It is a beastly practice of the bill-stickers of Modern Athens to clap one placard awkwardly and unevenly upon the top of another, leaving part of the old to appear above the new. It produces permanent cross-readings far before those of the newspapers. Thus, we saw on one corner -"The Political Union-For Sale ;" on another". The Lord Advocate-Is Open every lawful day from ten till dusk;" on a third—"The Cheapest Reform Bill;" and on a fourth-"The Learned Cats at A Meeting of the Temperance Society." We have sometimes been inclined to suspect that the sly rogues were aware of the strange medleys they thus got up. As we passed the Tron Church, the hard-handed sons of labour were congregating-indulging in half-an-hour's saunter, and a "blast o' their cutties," before proceeding to renew their monotonous employments. Some of them were fine high-spirited, free-glancing young fellows, while others were evidently members of that sect which directs its disciples to testify their aversion to Mahommedanism, by performing their ablutions only once a r Õ་ Price 6d. week. As we are averse to public expressions of respect, we felt somewhat afraid lest our good townsmen should insist upon taking the horses from the phaeton, and drawing us out of town, but luckily they did not recognise us, and we were allowed to pass in quiet. Bless Once fairly out of town, we mended our speed, and the carriage bowled along over the smooth road. ings on thee, Macadam! How invaluable has thy discovery proved to the erewhile travel-bumped wight! How invaluable to glaziers, as the late experience of Edinburgh can testify! There is an inexpressibly soothing charm in the 'noiseless, motionless, rapid change of place which we experience in a well-hung vehicle on a smooth road. It brings on a state of dreamy voluptuous contemplation. We receive the impressions of the beautiful scenery through which we are passing, listen to the songs of birds and milkmaids, and look at man and his doings; but we cannot talk. We never met with any person who could talk in a coach but one lady, who on entering, begged that we might not deem it rude in her if she declined conversation, for she had a very severe cold, and was quite unable to speak. Without exaggeration, her tongue never lay still from that blessed moment till we reached the end of our journey-a tritle of some fifty miles. We There being no lady in our party, we rolled on in silence, up the Esk and down the Gala, until we arrived at the Hanging Shaws, an ugly and ominous name. were each indulging in a separate reverie. But here the sun overcame the clouds, and looked smilingly down upon us. Alfred muttered a question, imperfectly heard, respecting the breakfast arrangements at Torsonce, and the Lounger stretched himself across our portly personage, to see what condition the water was in. It was of a beautiful brown the hue of the darkest cairngorm. The sun was flashing on the ripples which a light breeze brought at times over its surface. Huge distended clouds, hovering a short way above the hills, promised a frequent interchange of sun and shade. We had to lay violent hands upon our friend, for, in his eagerness, he had grasped rod and creel, and was on the eve of springing from the vehicle. *The spring is come at last," said we, with a view to check his impetuosity, by changing the current of his thoughts. "Much though we admire the leafy luxuriance of England, there is a more heartfelt charm to us in the evidence of reviving vegetation, which we trace among our treeless hills and glens, what time the "pale primrose" and the "dim violet" peep forth as now, beneath the shelter of some long tuft of grass, withered and bleached by the rain and blasts of winter. Have you no new song akin to the spirit of the season?" "I have a new one by your old friend, Alexander Maclaggan; but your Gruffness is such an enemy to love lays." "We have been thawed by the genial influence of the season, and could, like our great prototype, Hercules, tumble down upon our Nemean hide.' Sing." And, accordingly, he began to chant, with his fine mellow voice, the words of our young songster, which seem, indeed, a hymn sprung up from the fresh, softened from the grave to tell us,' that he will always have a earth, along with the violet and the primrose. Glows pot thy soul with delight, Thrills not thy heart's dearest string. With rapture, as burst on thy sight The new-born beauties of Spring? Up, up at the dawn of the day; Up, up from thy lone wintry dreams; Arise from thy slumbers deep, and away To the hills where the morning sun beams! There comes a soft song from the bowers, There comes a glad voice from the glen, There comes a sweet breath from the flowers,Then give thanks, all ye children of men, To the hand which hath planted the seed Of each gentle young floweret we see : Oh! blessed the heart is indeed, Who in truth feels how lovely they be! Sweet is the lily that blows, And the wild-flower with bells of blue; Sweet are the lips of the budding rose As they drink in the morning dew! And fair are the branches that shoot, So rich and so fresh in our view, With the promise of glorious fruit, Where the golden stores once grew! Up, ye that are lightsome of limb, Up, ye that are merry of mood, Haste from your chambers all curtain'd dim, And the earth, and the sky, and the ocean seem "So!" we resumed, as soon as the last quaver died upon our ear, you are one of those heretics who believe us insensible to the poetry which is evolved by the tender passion ?" "Have we not got it under your own hand and seal?" "For a greyhead that question makes you look irresistibly like a green goose. Perpend. Every man-we lay this down as an axiom-feels once in his life the influence of love. The emotion sets him as surely a wishing to sing, as it does any of those little warblers in the hedges. But the mere wish is not the power. And if it has pleased Providence to make a goose of him, his melody will prove only a grating, ear-piercing cackle. True love has mysteries-flashes of strange and wayward feelingthrobs, flushes, and emotions, delicate at once and overpowering-which have never yet been revealed. There is an endless variety in it, and the poet may yet find within its sphere a thousand untried themes for his wildwood melodies. It was not against such songs that our manifesto, so much misconstrued, was directed. It was against the whole kith and kin of the thousand and one amatory poems, which now stuff up the Balaam-boxechoes of Moore, which may have given pleasure to the writer while composing, because he was at the moment under the hallucination of passion--just as a man when drunk, or affected by opium, utters the veriest commonplace, or downright idiotic babble, with the most delighted complacency-but which give no 'echo to the seat where love is throned.' Listen. Here is a copy of verses which were put into our hand t'other day. They have not, perhaps, much poetry in them, but they are deeply and truly felt a tale of manly, sincere, and undying love. One such effusion is worth a whole century of 'metre ballad-mongers.' It would be hard to say whether the author will ever turn out a poet-the lines afford no presumption against him but there needs 'no ghost come heart in its right place, and a head on his shoulders." We met in youth's delightful morn, when ardent feeling threw 1 A charm o'er every scene of life, that burst upon the view; Then thou wert loveliness itself, sweet as the summer On memory's distant page began all dim and faint to grow. Perchance another face I saw with maiden beauty shine, But, ah! remembrance told me that 'twas not so fair as thine. Perchance a voice, as soft as thine, might charm my rap.. tured ear, Perhaps another one became as dear, as thou wert dear; But, ah! where was the faithful heart, the feelings warm and true, And where the stern unbending truth I most had prized in you? When many a day of weary toil, and grief, and hope, was o'er, And sullen calmness ruled the breast, where passion was before, I traced again my boyhood's haunts, each mountain, wood, Then wouldst thou praise the star of eve, far in the un- The heart may be warm, though the hurdies be happit ; clouded blue, Or bid me list within the wood the deep-voiced cushat coo. I tried to speak of love, my lips could not the wish fulfil, You pointed to the rising moon, just peering o'er the hill, But well, I ween, you knew my heart, long ere my lips could frame The trembling accents which confess'd an ardent lover's flame. Nor didst thou spurn the words which strove thy guileless heart to gain, And now thou art my bonny bride, and mine for ever, Jane. "Well, there's no accounting for taste," remarked Alfred, who, having finished a long and learned discussion with John, respecting the comparative merits of our two steeds, had been listening attentively to the latter part of our discussion. "You prefer a sermon, my liking is for a song. Here is a stave of Atkinson's best for you." The heather waves in mountain pride, Wons artless Jean o' Aberfoil. Oh, weel I min' the gloamin hour, When, comin' owre the langsome hill, I first was taught how meikle power A lass may hae that min's nae skill; For guileless as the lammie's sell, That kens na e'en a mother's willBut winsome as was Eve hersell, Is artless Jean o' Aberfoil! And then ye've seen the mountain doe? Is bonny Jean's o' Aberfoil! Whan panting owre some burnin' way, "That's not bad for Atkinson," said the Lounger, nodding approbation. "I like the cool insolence of that remark," retorted Alfred. "Not bad! Then what think you of this-a Jacobite strain by Tom, that stirs the blood like the sound of a trumpet?" Come to the Lowlands, Prince Charlie, and head us; The strath hath its brave anes, as well as the correi ; Come where the waters row broad to the sea; Comewhere the king and the cause baith may need us, And as true as the kilted or claymor'd we'll be. Each Andrew Ferrara is true to the hilt; And the haun' will be hack'd frae the arm or it drap it→ Come to the Solway, the Tay, and the Tweed; wondering within himself what strange companions hebt The lark wi' his chirrup had got. On finishing the stave, we stood up and gave Sears high in the clud,bi three hearty cheers for Atkinson, and the waiter looked brotsvol Beneath him is bursting enquiringly up at John, who returned his glance with dy basThe voice of the wood,zyra ban one of those cold imperturbable looks, which express fartynsi come then, my true love, da better than words: ff It's all right and in order what fWhen groves are sae green, but 95 is the fool wondering at ?" It was with evident reluc- 0 184 38 Wiroses I'll deck thee im tance that the dumbfoundered wight ushered us into the fud Astrich as a queen, ton--tez bi breakfast parlour.tb16. fo.. bannis-sqrini mfs-nib of tud a&l sinndol, bat enib zi'fers) We know not how it is, but we have always found 1 We always like to commence with some such gentle that eating breakfasts, like making love, although very prologue, it was the fashion of good old Isaac Walton.” pleasant to the actors, is preciously tiresome to beholders. Yes,interrupted...Alfred ; and as, you only go We spare our readers the infliction, therefore, and beg through the forms of fishing, it would be most improper him to accompany us about a mile down the Gala, where to leave any of them out, "ar 107 our day's fishing is to commence. Let him figure us stand-by Mind your own fishing, you monkey," said we, with ing in an amphitheatre of fine swelling tawny-coloured offended dignity, and leave us to take care of cur own hills, with some of bolder aspect receding beautifully in the concerns.' aerial distance. Our feet are on a piece of level emerald But, in confidence be it spoken, there was more truth turf the river is wimpling before us at our back is a in the younker's sarcasm than we were willing to admit. sheep track, tangled with briars and hawthern brakes, We are but an indifferent fisher. And somehow or beneath which the wild-flowers are peeping out, while other, we were on the present occasion peculiarly unforfrom the summit of the brae, huge forest-trees spread tunate. In addition to our want of success, the showers their black rough arms over our heads, amber-coloured which we already noticed as flying about, were becoming leaves bursting here and there from the extremities of momentarily heavier and more frequent. The mists their slenderest/ twigs. The sun is shining, but some-wreathed around the tops of the hills, at first like dark times dimmed, sometimes even darkened by the April plumes which wave over the helmet of a knight, attached showers that are wandering about. The rain, however, to the casque by a link scarcely discernible. Gradually, when it does come, is warm and genial to the sense, and however, they crept down the hill sides, narrowing our beneath its influence the grass seems to grow visibly. view every side, anti we were fairly swathed in the Ourt rods are at our feet one is searching in his huge bosom of a Scotch mist. black pocketbook for the fly most appropriate for the oc- We had long ere this given up the fishing as a hopeless casion another is drawing out his dine, to which the task, and stood, wondering at Alfred, who was all this ricking of his pirn bears audible testimonymAt last we while middle deep in the stream, heedless of the rain are ready; but before we start, the Lounger must sing which now descended in torrents, pulling out incessantly us again that song of Maclaggan, which harmonizes so his tiny game single or in pairs, and grumbling like a hero well with our situation. But no, he disdains to repeat at their want of size. At last we succeeded in persuading his good things. He will give us, however, one equally him to desist, and, crossing the river, began to ascend apropos by Miller of Westhouses.to il bon;ÎÍHBUT the huge hill, on the other side of which our destined to asm!! quarters for the night were situated.. ingen He met me sae kindly, LA 7 -1362 3170076 Saying, see the wee roses Ere the Autumn should wither 61 baum ist The garlands o' green. at nadara'gb l'1⁄2 dirzi The walk was not exactly what an Englishman would term a pleasant or inviting one. The mist prevented us from seeing many inches beyond the extremities of our noses--and none of them are very long. The unenclosed ground on the edge of the road was covered as far as we could discern, with _long withered bent; and altogether the scene was as cheerless as may well be conceived. Still we are true Scotchmen, and would rather die than give the Southron the advantage of our confession, that any thing can possibly be wrong or disagreeable in Scotland. It was a most delightful evening and a charming walk. ada Nor can any one, who is not himself a " Child of the Mist," conceive the beauty and grandeur, it occasionally lends to scenery. We speak not of the present occasion: but we have stood in former days on the sharp and craggy peaks of the hill of Blavain, and seen the blue sky bending broad and cloudless over us, while an immense mass of vapours, far below our feet, kept creeping and heaving, now ascending, and now descending, now sweeping round the hill like some fierce bird of prey—and we have gazed on it until it seemed a huge monster instinct with life. The world below was shut from our view, save when a casual chink showed the ocean far below, white gleaming in the sun. It was as if we stood alone in the immensity of space, upon a solitary stony pinnacle, based and supported we knew not how, Long years elapsed, and on a chill and lowering day, we stood upon the steep mountains which overhang Bohemia. The dense mist was rolling at our feet. A sheer descent was before us, which led straight downward into the darkness. A huge rift opened in the clouds, and we saw below us a land with an uneven surface, with thick black woods, and small openings, covered with a dark herbage. The opening closed, and the vision passed away. And this glimpse had laid open to us that Bohemia, which from 1 our cradle upwards, had been indissolubly associated with a thousand vague traditionary tales of terror. A brief space, however, brought us to Clovenford, where John had arrived some time before, and where Ellen-one of those, who to more than woman's length, adds 66 more than woman's mildness"welcomed us in with her kindest smiles. We coost aff the wat, pat on the dry," and went-not to bed, as the fair but frail Countess of Cassillis directed Johnnie Faa, but to dinner. Clovenford is in its arrangements, what every country inn ought to be. The meat and drink are of the best, and in overflowing abundance and every thing is banged down on the table at once, without any order of place or succession. You may begin the pudding, and end with fish, (as we did,) and you see the cheese stand lovingly side by side with the soup tureen. This is the true welcome for famished sportsmen. Here close the adventures of the first day, noi,m.8 "But there is matter for another tale, The honour of learning-conferred then with even a more sparing hand than at present, by the learned body to which he belonged... had been awarded to him. Hackneyed objection, therefore, to all who stir first in a good cause, cannot be urged against him. He was not goaded on by any unsatisfied craving after notoriety, or desperate desire to wring from unwilling hands a share of the world's wealth. His views were the fruit of calm, unimpassioned, and matured studyolHerewas impelled to diffuse them by the love of truth alone. 79 In our estimation, there is infinitely more grandeur about the character of Wickliff than of any other reformer. In the first place, he was the foremost in the cause. In the times of Luther, the world was prepared, by the sceptical spirit engendered by the study of classical literature, of which Erasmus is the first great exemplar, to hear the dominant superstition called in question Light had already broken in upon Europe, and needed but to be directed to the proper place. The sympathies of thousands were with him of Wittenbergbol The diy fuel was piled, and only awaited the torch. "But Wickliff wanted the aid of a new and aspiring spirit of enquiry to make **LITERARY CRITICISM.is ww duidw.smooth-his path before him ; and, what is more, he stood »tong lung sizesd ylitetusarm ! alone in the world. Of all the ills which the great men que adu Luungs bedisert. the distance, have to endure calumny persecution, - who stride on before their age, till they are dwarfed in mockery this is the most depressing. To have no one to feel with us, to enter into our thoughts, to bling to us with a love based upon a thorough knowledge of our in dotone to mozod character, every one must feel would be a dreary doom. ALTHOUGH this is, according to the natural drrange- Yet this is the lot of all great reformers. And then ment, the commencement of the valuable selection from the there is added to this the natural misgivings of a mind writings of the British Reformers, at present publishing which cannot support its convictions by the feeling that under the auspices of the Religious Tract Society, nine they are shared in by others, the restless fearful quesvolumes of the work have appeared before itsThe comtioning, off can that be true which has not entered into paratively easy access to the writings of Tindal, Latimer, and others, rendered such an arrangement expedient. Two more volumes will appear in the course of the year, and complete the series. The publication is at once cheap and elegant; and the works which it embraces rank, in every point of view, among the most valuable monuments of our language. Trusting that an occasion may soon be offered us of leading our readers to cast a look backwards at the other fathers of our church, we confine our remarks at present to the first, the most daring, yet the most gentle of them all. weld P EV 109 Writings of the Reverend and Learned John Wickliff, D.D. The first English Translator of the Holy Scrip tures. (Vol. I. of the British Reformers, from Wickliff to Jewell.) London, Printed for the Religious Tract Society. 1831. His Wickliff was born at a village of the same name near Richmond, în Yorkshire. His parents were respectable, and his relations possessed among them a considerable amount of property. He was destined for the church, and entered, early in life, first at Queen's College, Oxford, from which he soon removed to Merton College studies seem to have been confined in a great measure to such branches of science as had a direct bearing upon his profession. He was a thorough master of the subtle scho lastic fence of his day, and deeply read in the writings of the Fathers, of whom St Augustine seems to have been his especial favourite. He was chosen Warder of Baliol College in 1361.201h the same year he was presented to the living of Fellingham. In 1865, he was appointed Warden of Canterbury Hall. In 1873, he was admitted to the degree of Doctor in Divinity The king present ed him, in 1375, to a prebend in the collegiate church of Westbury, and shortly after to the rectory of Lutter worth, in Leicestershire. In 1382, he was expelled from Oxford, but none of his livings seem to have been taken from him. On the 31st of December, 1384, he died of a paralytic affection at his cure of Lutterworthis) suom We have been thus minute in tracing the progress of the Reformer's worldly fortunes, for an important reason. It appears from our recapitulation, that Wickliff was in easy circumstances, as far as wealth is concerned, during his whole life. His ambition to be distinguished in his profession, if he had any, must also have been amply gratified. He was a dignified clergyman, and the highest the thoughts of others to conceive? Against these There is an elegance and refinement at the same time " His language is a little more antiquated than that of Chaucer, and he contests with the poet the honour of being the first writer of English prose. His style is terse, unornamented, and full. His mind is capable of soaring to the heights of Platonic reverie, but with a constant and healthy reference to the duties of life. There is an un |
