before, Unchidden carolled the gay birds, nor shrank | Then softly song by song awoke, till all was as before his eye, And the tiny flowers about his bed, unblamed But Dominick lay, still as the clay, and never did bloom and die. up into his face, Yet while the meek flowers with mild glee looked wakened more. - fast, O! fast. the Fast o'er the wild flowers noble heart flows forth; And the poor with deep, impassioned love kept It gushes out, and sinks, sinks down fast in the safe his lurking place, drinking earth, Fearfully rang throughout the land the robber's | A noble heart? Yes, yes, though rough and evil fame, ruined in its mould, And gentle tongues, in quiet halls, with shud-It sinnéd not in ruthlessness, nor selfish thirst for dering spoke his name. He had seen the rich men travelling past in greatness and in pride, He had seen the poor, wrestling with want, grow death-pale at his side; In dark he walked, nor looked to God for patience and for cure, But rushed forth mad on those who had, and robbed them for the poor. gold. And still in sweet Kilcara wood is Dominick's lonely cave, Not to be gained by any but a footstep eagerbrave; And when earth groweth full of flowers, God hangeth in the sight, Before that dark cave's desolate door, a veil of roses white. They have sought him long and wearily the Ker-They ry woods amid ; In every cabin have they asked where Dominick lieth hid; But they may seek him wearily and long both night and day, Before they find, in hedge or hut, one tongue that will betray! spring from clay, and every spray windeth in earthly bands, Yet fair they are, as if let down from heaven by angel hands, As pitying sad as thoughts that fill the Christian's radiant ark, At sight of brother heart without lone heaving in How carelessly sits Dominick beneath the even-But ing red, Among the ferns and bloomy flowers — with a price upon his head! A silvery birchen bough above him rocketh 'neath the sky, And a robin rocketh 'mid its leaves, and singeth tenderly. Alone he sits, but never a thought of care or fear will have He trusteth to the steep, rough wood and to his hidden cave; He sits in sun and cleans from blood both sword and dagger bright, And smiles to himself with a proud, glad smile as they catch the western light. There as he sits, a stealthy eye and foot the woodpaths find. What matters it? They will pass as erst, and leave him safe behind. So had they passed, but a sudden gleam hath struck that passing eye, And, searching deep the wood's soft sleep, it is raised intent on high. the dark. hark! the cuckoo speaks again, and wakes me with clear tone, A dove that tells of Eden-joy, and will not mourn it gone; She follows Spring's swift-flying wings, and visits our cold years, To waken up our sleeping hope, and start us from our tears! Glad, homeless dove, that cannot find rest for thy joyful foot, Which will not brook a withering world where life and joy are mute; When thou dost speak of heavenly peace that is "not dead but sleeps," Shall souls redeemed thy ardors hear, nor answer from their deeps? Rejoicing bird, thy prophet voice hath won my I heart within, see the new heavens and new earth unshaded by our sin, That is And the the dream that stills those hills—the smile upon that wave, tender light of those roses white that hide poor Dominick's cave! THE FALSE ONE. The summer stars were burning on the sea, But the wind comes gustily from yon hilltop, and all across the upland. Now it rushes through the pleasant nook where we have been sitting this half hour selecting these spirit-leaves for you, and it flutters them, and well-nigh snatches them from our hands; and there now it speeds on, and whirls through our favorite grove; and the trees sigh and murmur from out their green hearts; then the leaves come pattering down like rain upon the gravelled alleys, where they lie like a carpet of many hues, soon, alas! to be soiled with the rain, and to rot in the dew, and be trodden under foot. Well, be it so. New leaves will bud in spring-time and swell in summer, and drop again in autumn dying ever, yet ever renewing. And so, for a season, farewell. From a Correspondent of the Spectator. CHINA AND THE CHINESE. Or all the anomalies in the world, China is the greatest. Tracing its origin back through the mists of mythology to the time when the smoke of sacrifice went up from the heights of Ararat, and Nimrod hunted the buffalo in the plains of Shinar, the Chinese empire still remains a problem to the philosopher, the naturalist, and the antiquary. While Pythagoras was disputing in the schools of Crotona, Confucius was firmly laying the foundation of a system which the theological acuteness of a Schaal and the theological zeal of a Verbiest have attacked in vain. Indeed, as far as it tian now in the days of Gutzlaff than she was is possible to judge, China is not more Chrisin the days of Ruggio or of Ricci; she has rather gone back than progressed. And yet a shorter interval than has elapsed between And there was no more sea. Rev. xxi. 1. 1 the mission of Confucius and the Protestant | their advancement to the arts, this nation, their influence? The constitution of a Chi- A glance across the Himalayah is enough to inspire us with a dread of paternal government forever. Nowhere is there to be seen a more emphatic instance of its complete and ignominious failure. Blest with a country the most magnificent in the world, everywhere human policy is discovered warring, and that too successfully, with the gifts of Nature. Abounding in rivers the most fruitful, the fisherman of China can find no better instrument for entrapping his prey than the beak of a well-trained pelican. In the midst of land that invites cultivation the most successful, the agriculturist can find no better substitute for a plough than a rake, and no better reaping-machine than a knife. Од the bosom of lakes equal in extent to the lakes of the New World, no more graceful form is seen than that of a boat which would put to shame for sluggishness and inconvenience the state barge of a Lord Mayor. The vaunted discoverers of the magnet can boast of no better vessels than a junk, and of no longer voyages than a few timid trips to the Eastern Archipelago. The inventors of gunpowder prefer a bow to a musket; and the mechanic who can imitate the machinery of a watch is yet content to pick up his scanty meal of rice with a chop-stick. strange anomaly that confesses that the people to whom Europe owes the glories of a Van Dyck and a Murillo can themselves exhibit specimens of art no better than the caricatures which adorn the obelisks of Grand Cairo. Endowed beyond all other nations with the genius of invention, it should seem that the Chinese beyond any other nation stand in need of the genius for application. They are in the condition of a people who have eyes and see not, and ears and cannot hear. It is a Of all their national characteristics, their immobility is the strongest. Long ere venturous travellers had tempted the Indian seas, dim and mysterious accounts of a people who lived under an imperial father, who possessed a legislature the most paternal, and a moral the man who shall throw open the wharves code the most domestic in the world, reached of Nankin and the streams of the Yangtse the Eastern corner of Europe. The same Kiang and the Hoang Ho, who shall substiaccounts that awakened the curiosity of our tute spires for pagodas, and the doctrine of forefathers fill their posterity with wonder. Christ for the doctrine of Confucius or of Fo, The Chinese are the same to-day that they will deserve most at the hands of civilization. were centuries ago. Had the Seven Sleepers We do not say that Tae-ping will become a reposed in one of the palaces of Nankin, they subject just yet for the labors of the S. P. C. K. would have discovered no novelties to harass But we do say that he who ceases to go back their credulity when they awoke. has begun to go forward. The first remove from retrogression is the first step to progress. It is not too much to hope that the man who has already exhibited all the iconoclastic enthusiasm of the Isaurian Leo, with all the patriotic indignation of a Larochejacquelin, may yet win for himself a niche among the Luthers and Melanothons of the world. In this singular feature of longieval identity the inhabitants of China resemble nothing so much as one of the figures on their own porcelain jars. Time cannot change or efface it; but it is no more the representative of an ordinary mortal than a Chinese is like any other created being. The materials for making an exquisite portrait are there, it is true; but as it is, the proportions are a caricature, and their mental symmetry shares the defect of their physical. With a moral code not altogether unworthy of a Christian, THE MOUNTAINS IN THE MOON.It is an asis mingled a philosophy the most childish certained fact that there are three classes of and impure. At one time commanded to lunar mountains. The first consists of isolated, live like brothers, at another time they are separate, distinct mountains of a very curious enjoined not "to live under the same heaven character. The distinguishing characteristic of with the injurer or oppressor." At one mo- these mountains is this- they start up from a ment ordered to treat others as they would plain quite suddenly. On the earth it is welltreat themselves, at another they are enjoined known that mountains generally go in ranges of not "to legislate for barbarians." Confucius groups; but we find these isolated lunar mounhimself never displayed his own barbarity so been connected with any range. The one named tains standing up entirely apart, never having strikingly as when he gave his followers this Pico is 9,000 feet high. This mountain has the command. From the author of "The Inful- form of an immense sugar-loaf; and if our lible Medium" more moderation might have readers can imagine a fairly-proportioned sugarbeen expected. It is to China that we must loaf, 9,000 feet in height, and themselves situlook to see the effects of a system based notated above it, so as to be able to look down upon on the principle of a political independence its apex, they will have an approximate idea of and a limited equality, but on the principle the appearance of Pico. There are many other of a social dependence and a filial subordi- mountains of a similar description scattered over nation. It is such a state of things that is preeminently favorable to a revolution. The same law of paternal authority that supports Heinfung at Peking has guided Tae-ping to the walls of Nankin. And to this same law one or other of the imperial patriarchs must fall a victim. To most Europeans it is a matter of indifference which shall succeed. Few care whether the descendant of Ming or the doscendant of Koblai Khan shall issue orders from the palace of Canton or Peking to more than a hundred million of slaves. But the thoughtful mind will find room enough for a preference. What opportunities for reform, and what stimulants to a reformation, will not the successful aggressor possess! Old national associations, old sacred traditions, a long heritage of antique customs and of antique superstitions, will have to be abused on the one hand and disused on the other. Of all reformations in the world the reformation of China would be the most stupendous; and of all reformers the moon's surface; and these mountains not only stand apart from each other, but, what is still more remarkable, the plains on which they stand are but slightly disturbed. How singular, then, the influence that shot the mountain up in the immediate neighborhood! The second 9,000 feet, and yet scarcely disturbed the plain class of lunar elevations consists of mountain ranges.. Now, this is the principal feature of the mountains on earth. This phenomenon is also found in the moon, but there it is the exception; only two principal ranges are found, and these appear to have been originally one range. One is called the Apennines. It is so well seen, that, just as the line of light is passing through the moon, you will think it is, generally speaking, a crack in its surface; but a telescope of ordinary power will at once manifest it to be a range of mountains. The lunar Apennines may be compared with the loftiest range of mountains upon earth. It is 18,000 feet high, and there is above its base. In this feature, then, the moon another range still higher, rising 25,000 feet corresponds with the earth, but with this difference what is the rule on the earth is the exception in the moon. Literary Journal. LITTELL'S LIVING AGE.-No. 499.-10 DECEMBER, 1853. Chambers' Journal, 696 Times and Chronicle, . 702 10. Capt. Tightfitt's Dinner Party, 11. Sara's Venture, 12. Turkey, Russia, France and The Times, POETRY: Phantoms-November, 641; Sorrows of Werther-Lines, 642. SHORT ARTICLES: Semonville, 642; The Lottery, 661; Vestris Family, 666; Late Dinners, 686; The Written Fish, 695; How the Money Goes; Louis XVIII., 704. NEW BOOKS: Anecdotes of Painters, &c. Little Ferns, 701. On Civil Liberty and Self-government, 642. From Putnam's Magazine. PHANTOMS. ALL houses wherein men have lived and died Are haunted houses. Through the open doors The harmless phantoms on their errands glide, With feet that make no sound upon the floors. We meet them at the doorway, on the stair, Along the passages they come and go, Impalpable impressions on the air, A sense of something moving to and fro. Is thronged with quiet, inoffensive ghosts, The stranger at my fireside cannot see The forms I see, nor hear the sounds I hear; He but perceives what is; while unto me All that has been is visible and clear. We have no title deeds to house or lands; The spirit world around this world of sense A vital breath of more ethereal air. Our little lives are kept in equipoise And the more noble instinct that aspires. 41 The perturbations, the perpetuai jar Of earthly wants and aspirations high, Come from the influence of that unseen star That undiscovered planet in our sky. And as the moon, from some dark gate of cloud, Across whose trembling planks our fancies crowd Throws o'er the sea a floating bridge of light, Into the realm of mystery and night; So from the world of spirits there descends A bridge of light, connecting it with this, O'er whose unsteady floor, that sways and bends Wander our thoughts above the dark abyss. |