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" • I'll tell you how we live, sir'—the earnest tone of | aspired to heaven, but that was not above the his voice attracted attention— we live on salt beef, brown carking cares of earth. With all her loftiness she bread, and beans, when we can get them; and when we was graceful and beautifully feminine, pure in cannot, some of us fast, and some share their horses' purpose, inflexible in honour. Though of Engmesses.' “ • Bless me-how annoying !
lish parentage, her brother was born in America, ". You may possibly have heard, sir,' resumed Eliot,
and had in his early boy hood imbibed the republiof the water that was miraculously sweetened, and of can sentiments which had for years been taking certain bread that came down from Heaven; and we,
root before they were dreamed of elsewhere. who live on this nutriment that excites your pity, and Herbert Linwood's father, and his sister Isabella, feel from day to day our resolution growing bolder and were stauuch on the other side-the former pertiour hopes brighter, we fancy a real presence in the brown naciously so, and making no allowance for oppobread, and an inspiration in the water that wells up site opinions. The sister, though she lamented through the green iurf of our native land.'”—vol. ii. p. her brother's errors of opinion, as she believed 23.
them, admired his consistency; and when he There is attached to the Linwood family, who, voluntarily left his paternal roof, rather than belie with the exception of a son, are strong royalists, his principles and former professions, he rose a domestic whose name is Rose, and though a
wonderfully in her sisterly love. Herbert joins nigger, her affections, her judgment, her magna- Washington's army, and is afterwards, on nimity, are of the first order. °Miss Sedgwick's secret visit to New York, taken prisoner. Notrepresentation of her is a fine and hearty asser
withstanding Sir Harry Clinton's intimacy and tion of the feelings and rights of Rose's race.
friendship for the youth's father, he has to be Rose was a slave—for slaves at that period were treated like other prisoners so taken, and the only almost the only servants even in the province of relief that at first opens is, on condition that he New York. Alas! English power, cupidity, and will rencunce the republican faith, and join himexample, were all in favour of the slave market self to the royal standard. To Isabella, however, in those days; and what a load of iniquity and the proposed overtures are first of all explained cloud of danger have they entailed upon the by Jasper Meredith, her lover, who has succeeded Americans, who, now that they are free them- in obtaining from Governor Clinton such a relaxaselves, will not to their fellowmen grant equal tion of the young man's condition, and offer of rights! Rose was a great favourite, but still she advancement. was not free. Favours and gifts of every de "You interrapted me, Isabella,' he resumed, when scription were bestowed upon her, and when on Mrs. Linwood had left the room ; your wishes always one New Year's day, our heroine, Isabella Lin- fly over the means to the end-a moment's reflection wood, then a child of eight summers' growth, will show you that your brother's release cannot be unpresented Rose with a silken dress, and asked, are
conditional you not now as happy as any lady in the land ;
"Well-the conditions are such as in honour can be ihe other replied
complied with ?-Sir Henry would propose po other.'
" · Honour is a conventional term, Isabella.' “ • Happy!' echoed Rose, her countenance changing; "• The honour that I mean,' replied Miss Linwood, 'is "I may seem so; but since I came to a thinking age, I not conventional, but synonymous with rectitude.. never have had one happy hour or minute, Miss Belle.' “ Meredith shook his head. He had an instinctive
“Oh Rose, Rose! why not, for pity's sake ?' dislike of definitions, as they in scripture, who loved « • I am a slave.'
darkness, had to the light. He was fond of enveloping “ . Pshaw, Rosy, dear! is that all ?-I thought you his meaning in shadowy analogies, which, like the moon, was in earnest.'
She perceived Rose was indeed in often led astray, with a beautiful but imperfect and illu. earnest; and she added, in an ex postulating tone, 'Are sive light. not papa and mamma ever so kind to you ? and do not " · Even rectitude must depend somewhat on position, Herbert and I love you next best to them ?'
Isabella,' he replied. He who is under the pressure of “Yes, and that lightens the yoke ; but still it is a circumstances, and crowded on every side, cannot, like yoke, and it galls. I can be bought and seld like the him who is perfectly free, stand upright and dispose his cattle. I would die to-morrow to be free to-day. Oh, motions at pleasure.' free breath is good-free breath is good! She uttered "Do not mystify, Jasper, but tell me at once what the this with closed teeth, and tears rolling down her cheeks. conditions are.'
“ Tears on Rose's cheeks ! Isabella could not resist " Isabella's face and voice expressed even more disthem, and pouring down a shower from her own bright satisfaction than her words, and Meredith's reply was in eyes, she exclaimed, “You shall be free, Rose,' and flew the tone of an injured man. to appeal to her father. Her father kissed her, called her " • He has empowered me to offer Herbert not only the best little girl in the world,' and laughed at her suit. his release, but favour and promotion, provided he will
" • Rose is a fool,' he said ; ' she had reason to complain renounce the bad cause to which he has too long adwhen she lived with her old mistress, who used to cuff hered, and expiate the sin of rebellion by active service her ; but now she was free in every thing but the name in the royal army.' -far better off than nine-tenths of the people in the Never, never ; never shall Herbert do this!" world. This sophistry silenced, but did not satisfy Isa. You are hasty, Isabella-hear me. If I convince bella. The spirit of truth and independence in her own Herbert that he has erred, why should he not retrieve mind responded to the cravings of Rose's, and the thrill. his error ?' ing tone in which those words were spoken, it is a Ay, Jasper, if you can convince him-but mind yoke, and it galls,' continued to ring in her ears.”—vol. cannot be convinced at pleasure—we cannot believe as ii. pp. 36, 37.
we would-I know it is impossible.' "-vol. ii. pp. 162 Isabella Linwood is a heroine in person, de
-167. meanour, sentiment, and genius, with a soul that Herbert repulses the governor's condition man
fully, and to his sister's admiration. With exalt Bessie Lee, the sensitive, meek, and lovely ed resolution she then resolves on appearing per- sister of brave Eliot, loses her heart, but not her sonally before Sir Henry, and pleading that her bonour, to a fascinating, accomplished, but cold brother may be put on the footing of a prisoner and selfish sprig of the English aristocracy, such of war, alıhough she knew that it was as being as at that period were not scarce in America. suspected for å spy that he was in the greatest She becomes perfectly love-crazed, to the shatdanger.
tering of her reason; and in her simplicity, and in
observance of what she conceives is not only her " . It is impossible, my dear girl—you overrate my duty, but of what will restore her peace of inind, powers—I am responsible
sbe resolves on finding out the giver of certain * * To God—so are we all, Sir Henry, and happiest are love-tokens which she possesses, and delivering those who have most of such deeds as I ask of you to pre. them into his own hands. Accordingly she sent at his tribunal. But are you not supreme in these stealthily leaves her mother's rural abode, and on provinces ? and may, you not exercise mercy without horseback takes the road to New York, where fearing that man shall miscall it ?'
My powers, thanks to my gracious sovereign, are she believes the heartless young man to be, ample; but you have somewhat romantic notions of the although the journey is long, and ihe times most mode of using them. I am willing to believe-or rather,' unsettled. The termination of her first day's he added with a gracious smile, to believe that you be journey is thus told :lieve your brother's story to be a true one; but Miss Linwood, this view of the ground must not alter, to speak "Bessie's horse fortunately selected the right road; en militaire, our demonstration. We are bound, as I and refreshed by his half hour's rest, he obeyed his mishave communicated to you, through our friend Mr. Jas. tress's signals to hasten onward. These signals she per Meredith-we are bound, by the policy of war, to reiterated from an impression of some indefinite dauger avail ourselves of the accident, if it be one, that enables pursuing her. By degrees, however, her thoughts revertus plausibly to impute to Washington an act held dised to their former channels, and she dwelt no more on honourable in all civilised warfare."
her recent alarm than a dreamer does on an escaped preci. “ • Then, in plain English,' said Isabella, with a burst pice. A languor stole over her that prevented her from of indignation this time irrepressible, the policy of war observing Steady's motions. From a fast trot he had compels you to profess to believe a falsehood, in order to slackened to a walk, and after thus creeping on for a stain a spotless name.'
mile or two, he stood stock still. “ Sir Henry made no reply, but strided with folded “ Bessie sat for a while as if waiting his pleasure, and arms up and down the apartment. A glance at his irri. then looking at the setting sun, she said, “Well, Steady, tated countenance recalled Isabella to herself. Forgive you have done your day's duty, and I'll not be unmerci. me, Sir Henry,' she said, if feeling only that my poor ful to you. I too have a tired feeling,' and she passed brother is a victim to this horrible policy of war,' I her hand over her throbbing temples; but Steady, we have spoken more boldly than was fitting a humble, mise. will not stay here by the road side, for I think there be rable suitor.'
bad people on this road; and besides, it is better to be ". My dear girl,' he said, ' pray do not make yourself alone where only God is.' so unhappy. You know not how much your brother is “ The country through which Bessie was now passing already indebted to you—if he were not fenced about by was rocky, hilly, and wooded, excepting narrow intervals such friends, your father on one side, and yourself and and some few cleared and cultivated slopes. She had your devoted knight on the other—do not blush, my dear just passed a brook, that glided quietly through a very young lady-he would have fared much worse than he green little meadow on her left, but which, on her right, has, I assure you. He has only to suffer durance with though screened from sight, sounded its approach as in patience--our' bark is worse than our bite; and, believe the glad spirit of its young life it came leaping and danc. me, the war cannot last much longer.'
ing down a rocky gorge. "Bessie, as it would seem from " . And he must remain in prison while the war the instinct of humanity, let down some bars to allow her lasts ?'
hungry stced admittance to the meadow, saying as she "• Well, my dear Miss Belle, tell me precisely what did so, You shall have the green pastures and still you want, and what security you can give that my trust waters, Steady, where these home-looking willows are will not be abused.'
turning up their silvery leaves as if to kiss the parting "• I want an order from you to Cunningham, direct sunbeams, and the sunflower and the golden rod are still ing him to permit my brother to leave the prison in the flaunting in their pride, poor things ! But I will go on evening between any hours you shall see fit to assign; the other side where the trees stand bravely up, to screen and for your security, Sir Henry, I can offer the surest, and guard me—and the waterfall will sing me to the word not only of a man of honour, as you have said sleep.' there are many and uncertain modifications of that prin. “She crossed the road and plunged into the wood, and ciple, but the word of a man bound to you by every tie without even a footpath to guide her, she scrambled along of gratitude and good faith.'
the irregular margin of the brook. Sometimes she "You have persuaded me, my dear, against my bet. swung herself round the trunk of a tree by grasping the ter reason, it may be, but you have persuaded me; and tough vines encircling it; sometimes, when a bald per. to-morrow, after our cabinet-council, I will send you the pendicular rock projected over the water, she surmounted order.'
it, as if the danger of wetting her feet must be avoided “Oh, no-to-night, Sir Henry,' urged Isabella, with at all pains and risks; then a moss-covered rock imbed. her characteristic decision, determining to leave nothing ed in the streaza attracting her eye, she would spring on to the possible influence of a cabinet council or a trea- to it, drop her feet into the water, doff her little chip hat cherous to-morrow; 'to-night, if you would make me and bathe her burning temples in the cool stream; and completely happy. Here on the table is pen, ink, and when she again raised her head, shook back her curls paper; and here is a chair-sit down, and write three and turned her face heavenward, her eye glowing with lines, and I will go home with them, and fall down on preternatural brightness, she might have been mistaken my knees, and pray God to bless you for ever and ever.'” | for a wanderer from the celestial sphere gazing home- vol. ii. pp. 304–312.
ward. Aftor ascending the stream for about a hundred
yards, she came to a spot which seemed to her excited | band, and added, "Take it, Isabella, it is a true symbol imagination to have been most graced
• Eliot for the first time turned his eye from his sister, • By the sovereign planter, when He formed
and even at that moment of anguish a thrill of joy shot All things for man's delightful use ;'
ihrough every vein when be saw Isabella take the bud, and in truth it was a resting-place for the troubled spirit, pull apart its shrivelled leaves, and throw them away far more difficult to find than a bed of down for the wea. froin her. ried body.
"• Do you remember this chain ?' she asked, as she “ • Here I lay me down to rest,' said Bessie, rolling up opened a bit of paper, and let fall a gold chain over Merewith her foot a pillow of crisp crimson leaves that had dith's arm. He started as if he were stung. It cannot fallen from a young delicate tree, fit emblem of herself, harm you,' she said, faintly smiling, as she noticed his restricken by the first touch of adversity. But first I will coiling. This was the charm.' She smoothed the pa. say my prayers, for I think this is one of God's temples.' per cnvelope. "As often as I looked at it, the feeling She knelt and murmured forth the broken aspirations of with which I first read it shot through my heart—strange, her pure heart, and then laying herself down, she said, for there does not seem much in it.' She murmured the • I wish mother and Eliot could see me now—they words penciled by Meredith on the envelope, would be so satisfied!' "-vol. ii. pp. 277–282.
Can she, who weaves electric chains to bind the heart, Jasper Meredith, now Isabella Linwood's wooer, Refuse the golden links that boast no inystic urt? was the object of the poor crazed one's search; « Oh, well do I remember,' she cast up her eyes as and the two young ladies had been bocom com- one does who is retracing the past, the night you gave panions. The wanderer at last reaches New me this ; Eliut was in Boston ; mother was—I don't reYork, and meets her female friend. The selfish member where, and we had been all the evening sitting double lover is brought before them, in the pre- in the porch. The honey-suckles and white-roses were sence of Eliot Lee, Bessie's brave brother, when in bloom, and the moon shone in through their leaves. the following affecting and powerful passages and you said much of the happy destiny of those who
It was then you first spoke of your mother in England,
were not shackled by pride and avarice; and when you “ * Is she mad ?' asked Meredith of Isabella. Bessie's went away, you pressed my hand to your heart, and put ear caught bis last word. • Mad" she repeated, •1 this little packet' in it. Yeť (turning to Isabella) "he think all the world is mad; but I ulone am not! I have never szirl he loved me. It was only my over-credulous hcard that whom the gods would destroy they first make fancy. Take it, Isabella ; it belongs to you, who really mad. Men and angels have been employed to save me weave the chain that binds the heart.' from destruction.'
“ Meredith scized the chain as she stretched out her "It is idle to stay here to listen to these ravings,'hand, and crushed it under his foot. Bessie looked from said Veredith in a low voice to Miss Linwood; and he him to Isabella, and seemed for a moment puzzled; then was about to make his escape, when Isabella interposed. said, acquiescingly, 'Ah, it's all well ; symbols do not *Slay for a moment, I entreat you,' she said ; • she has make nor change realities. This little brooch,' she conbeen very eager to see you, and it is sometimes of use to tinued, steadily pursuing her purpose, and taking from gratify these humours.'
the box an old fashioned brooch, in the shape of a forget. " In the meantiine Eliot, his heart burning within him me-not, • I think was powerless. What need had I of a at his sister's being gazed at as a spectacle by that man forget-me-not, when memory devoured every faculty of of all the world from whose eye he would have shelter. my being ? No, there was no charm in the forget-meed her, was persuading her, as he would a wayward not; but oh, this little pencil,' she took from the box the child, to leave the apartment. She resisted his importu- end of a lead pencil, with which we copied and scribbled nities with a sort of gentle pity for his blindness, and a poetry together. How many thoughts has this little in. perfect assurance that she was guided by light from hea- strument unlocked—what feelings has it touched—what
• Dear Eliot,' she said, you know not what you affections have hovered over its point, and gone thrilling ask of me. For this hour my life has been prolonged, back through the heart! You must certainly take this, my strength miraculously sustained. You have all been Isabella, for there is yet a wonderful power in this magiassembled here—you Eliot, because a brother should cal little pencil-it can make such revelations.' sustain his sister, share her honour, and partake her hap "Dear Bessie, I have no rerelations to make.' piness ; Jasper Meredith lo receive back those charms "• Is my task finished ?' asked Meredith. and spells by which my too willing spirit was bound; “• Not yet—not quite yet--be patient-patience is a and you, Isabella Linwood, to see how, in my better great help; I have found it so. Do you remember this?" mind, I yield him to you.'
She beld up before Meredith a tress of her own fair hair, “She took froin her bosom a small ivory box, and lied with a raven lock of bis in a true-love knot, 'Ain, opening it she said, advancing to Meredith, and showing Isabella, I know very well it was not maidenly of me to him a withered rose-bud, 'Do you remember this? You tie this; I knew it then, and I begged it of him with plucked it from a little bush that almost dipped its leaves many tears, did I not, Jasper ? bui I kept it—that was in that cold spring on the hill side. Do you remember? wrong too. Now, Mr. Meredith, you will help me to It was a hot summer's afternoon, and you had been read. untie it?' ing poetry to me; you said there was a delicate praise in "• Pardon me; I have no skill in such matters.' the sweet breath of flowers that suited me; and some silly " • Ah, is it easier to tie than to untic a true-love knot ? thing you said, Jasper, that you should not, of wishing Alas, alas! I have found it so. But you must help me. yourself a flower, that you night breathe the incense that My head is growing dizzy, and I am so faint here ! She you were not at liberty to speak : and then you taught laid her hand on her heart. •It must be parted—dear me the Persian language of flowers. I kept this little Isabella, you will help me--you can untie a truc-love's bud: it faded, but was still swect. Alas! alas! I che knot ?' rished it for its Persian neaning. Her reminiscence "I can sever it,' said Isabella, with an emphasis that seemed too vivid-her voice faltered, and her eye fell went to the heart of more than one that heard her. She from its fixed gaze on Meredith; but suddenly her coun. took a pair of scissors from the table, and cut the knot. tenance brightened, and she turned to Isabella, who stood The black lock fell on the floor ; the pretty tress of Bes. by the mantelpiece resting her throbbing head on her I sie's hair curled around her finger :-- I will keep this
VOL. XXVII. - DECEMBER, 1835–78
for ever, my sweet Bessie,' she said ; the memorial of be in possession of two or three actors qualified to innocence, and purity, and much abused trust.' embody the lofty and graceful conceptions of a
"Oh, I did not mean that, I did not mean that, Isa. true tragic poet. bella. Surely I have not accused him; I told you he The object and general plan of “ Ion" are thus never said he loved me. I am not angry with bim-you opened to us in a short preface:must not be. You cannot be long, it you love him; and surely you do love him.'”—Vol. iii. pp. 136–146. “ The idea of the principal character,—that of a nature
We might now proceed to some lighter scenes, essentially pure and disinterested, deriving its strength though of equal beauty and spirit, but enough has entirely from goodness and thought, not overcoming evil been extracted to show thai - The Linwoods” is by the force of will, but escaping it by an insensibility to a novel of no ordinary fashion. It never fails in sures, yet willing to lay them down at the call of duty,
its approach-vividly conscious of existence and its pleakeeping up, besides its natural interest, a fine na- is scarcely capable of being rendered sufficiently striking tional warmth of heart
, cqual, we doubt not, to the in itself, or of being subjected to such agitations as trahope of the writer, when she says that her aim gedy requires in its heroes. It was necessary, in order has been to give her younger American readers a to involve such a character in circumstances which might true, if a slight impression of the condition of their excite terror or grief, or joy, to introduce other machi. country at the most trying period of its existence. nery than that of passions working naturally within, or Reviewers, and advanced towards the middle age events arising from ordinary and probable motives with. of man, though we may be, we have gone through out; as its own elements would not supply the contests of the work, chapter after chapter, as we would have tragic emotion, nor would its sufferings, however accu. done twenty years ago.
mulated, present a varied or impressive picture. Recourse has therefore been had not only to the old Grecian
notion of destiny, apart from ali moral agencies, and to From the London Quarterly Review. a prophecy indicating its purport in reference lo the indi. lon; a Tragedy. London : 1835. (Privately widuals involved in its chain;- but to the idea of fascina. printed.)
tion, as an engine by which fate may work its purposes
on the innocent mind, and force it into terrible action, This poem, to which we hazarded an allusion most uncongenial to itself, but necessary to the issue. in our last number, has been placed at our dis- Either perhaps of these aids might have been permitted, posal; but as the writer persists in not publishing if used in accordance with the entire spirit of ihe piece; it, we should hardly consider ourselves justified but the employment of both could not be justified in a in making it the subject of a minute critical ex- tain verisimilitude is essential to the faith of the spectator. amination. We embrace, however, the opportu. Whether any groups surrounded with the associations of nity of gratifying our readers with a few specimens the Greek mythology, and subjected to the capricious of a tragic composition, which, after repeated pe- laws of Greek superstition, could be endowed by genius rusal, we are satisfied must ultimately fix the itself with such present life as to awaken the sympathies name of Mr. Talfourd on a very high station in of an English audience, may well be doubted ; but it cotemporary literature. We know, indeed, of no cannot be questioned that, except by sustaining a stern work of this class, produced in recent times, unity of purpose, and breathing an atmosphere of Grecian which affords more complete evidence of its au- sentiment over the whole, so as to render the picture thor's capacity to place himself, if he chose, in the national and coherent in all its traits, the effect must be rank of our classical dramatisis. He has studied unsatisfactory and unreal. Conscious of my inability to and its difficulties as nothing but severe medita- but have sought, out of mere weakness, for • fate and the art thoroughly, and apprehends its resources produce a work thus justified to the imagination by its
own completeness and power, I have not attempted it; tion can enable any man to do: in what he has metaphysical aid' to 'crown withal' the ordinary persons attempted he has succeeded admirably; and of a romantic play.”—Preface, p. ix. though he modestly doubts whether he could have adequately fulfilled a harder task, we are persuad We are of opinion that to real genius an audied that few who study his piece will participate ence would freely grant all and more than Mr. in that suspicion.
Talfourd has feared to ask for himself. But we The beautiful “ Ion” of Euripides has suggested shall not, at present, enter into any rexed questhe name of the hero. and some circumstances of tions. his position at the opening of the scene. Like the The destiny of this piece hangs over the royal “fatherless and motherless” boy of the Greek race of Argos'; and the prophecy announces that tragedian, he is a foundling, who has been nursed the vengeancé which their misrule has brought and reared within a temple, and is now employed down on their people, in the form of a wide and in the services of the place; but with these excep-wasting pestilence, can only be disarmed by the tions, and that of a few scattered images, the utter extirpation of the guilty house. The reignmodern author has taken nothing from that par- ing king, Adrastus-whose character and history ticular play. With the spirit of the high Greek have from the beginning been darkened by his drama, however, his whole mind and manner are knowledge of such a prophesy-conceives bimself deeply imbued ; and yet, as genius never did nor to be a childless man; and maddened with the can display itself without some bearing on the sense of this terrible doom being concentrated on thoughts, and feelings, and tastes of its own age, his head, he has felt and acted as one cut off, from he has given us a tragedy which, while it must the hour of his birth, from all possibility either of afford peculiar and exquisite delight to the classi- human sympathy or of divine compassion. While cal scholar, might, we think, with some slight the plague is ravaging his city, and the senators alterations, be produced with extraordinary effect and priests are sending their deputations to Delon our own stage ; that is to say, supposing us to phi, in hopes of grace or guidance, the prince con
tinues shut up in his palace, apparently insensible | Thosc limbs, which in their heedless motion own'd to the calamity around its gates, deaf to the cries A stripling's playful happiness, are strung of his people, inaccessible to his councillors, and As if the iron hardships of the camp plunged in a reckless career of debauchery, in Had given them sturdy nurture; and his step, which the captains of his guard are his sole com. Awakes the echoes of these desolate courts, panions. The pestilence spreading more and more fiercely, and the mission to Delphi not hav- As if a warrior of heroic mould
Paced them in armour. ing returned within the expected time, the priests
Agenor. Hope is in thy tale. and elders of Argos resolve to send once more to This is no freak of Nature's wayward course, the palace, and implore their king to come forth But work of pitying Heaven ; fór not in vain and join with them in some solemo ceremonial The gods have pour'd into that guileless heart calculated to appease the divine wrath ; but the The strengths that nerve the hero ;—they are ours.” last messenger who had gone on such an errand
In the next scene the youth himself appears, had been beaten and scourged, and brought back and reports the incidents of his last night's for answer that the next should be instantly put walk : to death. At this moment, the beautiful orphan and stripling of the temple courts, who has already “ Ion. I pass'd the palace where the frantic king exhibited something of the unexpected grandeur Yet holds his cranson revel, whence the rour of his character, offers himself for the perilous of desperate mirth came, mingling with the sigh embassy; and such is the fascination of his heroic or festal lamps 'mid spectral columns hung innocence, that the high priest, who has reared Flaunting o'er shapes of anguish, made them ghastlier. him and loves him as a child, consents.
How can I cease to tremble for the sad ones But we must pause a moment on the change. He mocks-and him the wretchedest of them all ? which had come over lon at the outbreaking of TIMOCLES. And canst thou pity him ? the pestilence-the astonishment with which the Dost thou discern, senators heard that he had been the only inmate Amidst his impious darings, plea for him ? of the temple who continually braved all dangers Ion. Is he not childless, friendless, and a king ? in ministering to the necessities of the sick : He's human ; and some pulse of good must live
Within his nature-have ye tried to wake it ?”—p. 24. “ AGENOR. What! Ion, The only inmate of this fane, allowed
His entreaty to be entrusted with the message To seek the mournful walks where death is busy ! to the king is in these words :Ion, our some time darling, whom we prized
“ Ion. O do not think my prayer As a stray gift by bounteous Heaven dismiss'd
Bespeaks unseemly forwardness-send me! From some bright sphere which sorrow may not cloud
The coarsest reed that trembles in the marsh,
If Heaven select it for its instruinent,
May shed celestial music on the breeze
As clearly as the pipe whose virgin gold By no internal contest is he train'd
Befits the lip of Phæbus ;-ye are wise, For such hard duty; no emotions rude
And needed by your country: ye are fathers : Hath his clear spirit vanquish'd ;-Love, the germ
I am a lone stray thing, whose little life Of his mild nalure, hath spread graces forth,
By strangers' bounty cherished, like a wave
That from the summer sea a wanton breeze
Lifts for a moment's sparkle, will subside
Light as it rose, nor leave a sigh in breaking."
From an interview which succeeds between Haih fill'd his eye save that of thoughtful joy
Ion and Clemanthe, the daughter of his guardian When, in the evening stillness, lovely things
high-priest, Medon, we must quote what follows Press'd on his soul too busily ; his voice,
(Phocion, Clemanthe's only brother, is on the If, in the earnestness of childish sports,
embassy to Delphi) :Raised to the tone of anger, check'd its force, As if it fear'd to break its being's law,
“ CLEMANTIE. O thou canst never bear these mourn. And falter'd into music; when the forms
ful offices! Of guilty passion have been made to live
So blithe, so merry once! Will not the sight In pictured speech, and others have wax'd loud
of frenzied agonies unfix thy reason, In righteous indignation, he hath heard
Or the dumb woe congeal thee ! With sceptic smile, or from some slender vein
Ion. No, Clemanthe; Of goodness, which surrounding gloom conceald, They are the patient sorrows that touch nearest ! Struck sunlight o'er il : 80 his life hath flow'd
If thou hadst seen the warrior while he writhed From its myslerious urn a sacred stream,
In the last grapple of his mighty frame
With mightier anguish, strive to cast a smile
Waning beside him,-and, his limbs composed,
The widow of the moment fix her gaze Cleon. Yet, methinks, Of longing, speechless love upon the babe, Thou hast not lately met him, or a change
The only living thing which yet was hers,
Yet with attenuated hand wave off
Thou couldst endure the sight of selfish grief