Oldalképek
PDF
ePub

and intelligence were spread over its whole prosperity of the land; let them abide its surface: not as in some monarchies, drain- ! fluctuations, and conform to its fortunes. ed from the country, and collected in It is not for the rich to fly because the towns and cities. I have considered the country is suffering; let them share, in great rural establishments of the nobility, their relative proportion, the common lot; and the lesser cstablishments of the gen- they owe it to the land which has elevated try, as so many reservoirs of wealth and them to honour and affluence, When the intelligence distributed about the kingdom, poor have to diminish their scanty morsel apart from the towns, to irrigate, freshen, of bread; when they have to compound and fertilise the surrounding country. I with the cravings of nature, and study with have looked upon them too, as the august how little they can do, and not be starved; retreats of patriots and statesmen, where, it is not then for the rich to fly, and dimiin the enjoyment of honorable independance nish still farther the resources of the poor, and elegant leisure, they might train up that they themselves may live in splendor their minds to appear in those legislative in a cheaper country. Let them rather assemblies whose debates and decisions form retire to their estates, and there practise the study and precedents of other nations, retrenchment. and involve the interests of the world.

Let them return to that noble simplicity, that practical good sense, that honest pride which forms the foundation of true English character, and from them they may again rear the edifice of fair and honorable prosperity.

On the rural habits of the English nobility and gentry; on the manner in which they discharge their duties on their patrimonial possessions, depend greatly the virtue and welfare of the nation. So long as they pass the greater part of their time in the quiet and purity of the country, surrounded by the monuments of their illustrious ancestors, surrounded by every thing that can inspire generous pride, noble emulation, and amiable and magnanimous sentiment; so long they are safe, and in them the nation may repose its interests and its honor, But the moment that they become the servile throngers of court avenues, and give themselves up to the political intrigues, and heartless dissipations of the metropolis, that moment they lose the real nobility of their natures, and become the mere leeches of the country.

I have been both surprised and disappointed, therefore, at finding, that on this subject I was often indulging in an Utopian dream, rather than a well-founded opinion. I have been concerned at finding that these fine estates were too often involved, and mortgaged, or placed in the hands of creditors, and the owners exiled from their paternal lands. There is an extravagance, I am told, that runs paralell with wealth; a lavish expenditure among the great; a senseless competition among the aspiring; a heedless, joyless dissipation, among the upper ranks, that often beggars even these splendid establishments, breaks down the pride and principles of their possessors, and makes too many of them mere place-hunters, or shifting absentees. It is thus that so many are thrown into the hands of government; and a court which ought to be the most pure and honourable in Europe, is so often degraded by noble, but importunate time-scrvers. It is thus, too, that so many become exiles from their native land, crowding the hotels of foreign countries, and expending upon thankless strangers the wealth so hardly drained from their laborious peasantry. I have looked upon these latter with a mixture of censure and concern. Knowing the almost bigot-given an example of adherence to principle, ed fondness of an Englishman for his native home, I can conceive what must be their compunction and regret, when, amidst the sun-burnt plains of France, they call to mind, the green fields of England; the heraitary groves which they have abanoned, and the hospitable roof of their fathers, which they have left desolate, or to be inhabited by strangers. But refrenchment is no plea fer an abandonment of country.They have risen with the

That the great majority of nobility and gentry in England are endowed with high notions of honour and independence, I thoroughly believe. They have evidenced it lately on very important questions, and have

in preference to party and power, that must have astonished many of the venal and obsequious courts of Europe. Such are the glorious effects of freedom, when infused into a constitution. But it seems to me that they are apt to forget the positive nature of their duties, and to fancy that their eminent priveleges are only so many means of self-indulgence. They should recollect, that in a constitution like that of England, the titled orders are intended to be es use.

ful as they are ornamental, and it is their

I virtues alone that can render them both.
Their duties are divided between the sove-

reign and the subject; surrounding and
giving lustre and dignity to the throne, and
at the same time tempering and mitigating
its rays, until they are transmitted in mild
and genial radiance to the people. Born
to leisure and opulence, they owe the exer-
cise of their talents, and the expenditure
of their wealth, to their native country.
They may be compared to the clouds;
which, being drawn up by the sun, and
elevated in the heavens, reflect and mag-
nify his splendor; while they repay the
earth, from which they derive their suste-

left, in the foregound of the piece, is a group pretty actively engaged-one female in particular, has fallen into trap, between two men, of whom the upper, saucy rogue, is smothering her with kisses. Abore them, is perhaps the most characteristic figure of the whole. We see a man crawling along the wall, with arms and feet, like a great black spider, measuring his distance as he crawls, and enjoying the agility and dexterity of his movements. A little girl in a corner, hiding her face

nance, by returning their treasure to its with her apron, is a most happythought,

bosom in fertilising showers.

BINE ARTS.

WILKIE'S BLIND MAN'S BUFF.

exhibiting one of those touches of human nature, in the knowledge of which Wilkie has no equal.

A young woman, on the ground, with her right arm extended, links this group to that on the opposite side of the picture very artfully and successfully. The opposite, or left group, exhibits a man with a feather in his hat, and two females, very beautifully intertwined with each other. Two luckless boys have tumbled over a chair: one seems to have broken his shin, and is making a hideous face ; the other has escaped, and laughs aloud. The legs of these lads are done to the life. But the man immediately in the foreground, kneeling down, and extending his left arm, about to touch the blindfolded hero, is perfect of his kind. He tells the story as much as any of his comrades. His gaiters, coat, head, and hand, are delightfully characteristic. The buckground contains a few straggling figures, all interested in what is going on. The libit a beautiful study of appropriate ceiling, wainscoat, and furniture, ex

The composition of this charming picture is delightfully fascinating The blindfolded rustic, the hero of the piece, is nearly in the middle of the picture. He is moving slowly and cautiously forward, putting out his feelers (alias hands) as he makes his way: and of which the left is just - about to touch the head of a wretch, shrinking like a snail into his shell; while above him, an elderly man presses backward, drawing in his breath, and hollowing his body, and squeezing, in the act of retreat, a couple of children, one of whom screams lustily from the -pressure, and the other looks with increased earnestness at the critical progress of the blinded man. A young girl of sixteen, with a piece of black accessories; and in looking at this velvet run through the hair, is leaning joyous group, one longs to doff the against the chimney piece, and looking and to mingle where so much firth straight-laced garment of sober years,. archly over her left shoulder, as if she and should have no objection to be blindfolded next. Still lower down to the

innocence' seem to prevail.

[merged small][ocr errors][ocr errors][merged small][ocr errors]

Sweet girl! She was once most enchantingly gay,

Each youth own'd her charms, and acknowledg'd their sway.

No arts did she use to acquire every grace, 'Twas good humour alone that enlivened her face,

Pure nature had leave in her actions to speak.

The spirit of youth gave the blush to her cheek;

And her looks uninstructed her thoughts would impart,

For her eyes only flash'd from the wrath of of her heart:

Herself undesigning, no scheme shé susspected,

Ne'er dreaming of ambush, defence she neglected;

With the youth that she loved, at the moon's silver hour,

In confidence tender, she stole to the bower There he hoped his designs to have basely obtain'd,

But she spurned at the insult her virtue sustain'd;

And he, in revenge for his baffled endeavour Gave a hint.-'Twas enough-she was svaruined for ever!

A thousand kind females the story augmented,

Each day, grinning Envy additions invented 'Till insatiate Malice had gained all her ·ends,

Had robb'd her of character,-happiness→→→→ friends

[ocr errors]

And now, poor maid, alone,
Shun'd as a pest, she makes her moan,
And in unheard despair,
Yields, all resigned, to soul-consum-
*ing care

And oftentimes her maddening brain
Turns with its feverish weight of pain,

And then a thousand childishí things,
The pretty mad one rudely sings!
Or mute on the pathway she gazes,
And weeps as she wcatters her daisies ;
Or else in a strain, more distractedly
loud,
{fancy,
She chaunts the sad thoughts of her
And shivers and sings of her cold shroud
Alas! alas! poor Nancy !
Nay, weep not now-'tis now too late
Thy friendship might have stopp'd her
fate.

Rather now hide thy head in conscious shame,

Thy tongue too blabb'd the lie that damn'd her fame.

Such are the triumphs SCANDAL claims,
Triumphs derived from ruin'd names:
Such as to generous minds unknown,
And honest minds would blush to own.
Nor think, vain woman, while you

[merged small][ocr errors][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small]
[merged small][ocr errors][merged small][ocr errors][merged small]

say,

'Twas not his speechifying day, He did but plead not guilty of the sin; And now the Jury were sent out, To know if there remained a doubt With any one,-what verdict to bring in.

Now 'tis much doubted in this nation, If men born free of corporation, Are any wiser than we common hogs;

But I ne'er doubted 'bout the case, For men who always are in place Are keen of sense, oh! wond'rous witty dogs.

The Brogues were new, so was the crime,

No theft like this at any time, Had e'er within the town detected been; The foreman hemm'd, but nothing said, Each worthy juror shook his head, Not e'en a smile through all the group was

seen.

A

Now closely shut within their room, They ponder'd on the pris'ner's doom, But could not all in one opinion meet, Some thought 'twas wilful murder quite,

Some swore 'twas ravishment outright; But all declared the crime was wond'rous great.

And now the foreman's brows unbend,

Soon

their troublings have an end;

His wisdom hit the right nail on the head; MANSLAUGHTER is the crime! he cried; It is Manslaughter! each replied, And into court they speedily were led. Where mister foreman, after three low bows, Gives in their verdict, and the Court allows; And in the records of that Court, no doubt, The ground-work of my tale may be trac'd

out.

[ocr errors]
[merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small]

found to be gratitude.

Where does it come from ?-Heaven. If pure, it mounts thither again. It is too exquisite for earth, and seldom rests on it long.

What is courage made of? The fear of contempt.

What is it good for?-Self-presertation, and the protection of others.

What is justice?—The principle and cause of all virtue, as light is the principle and cause of all colour.

Can it be bought?—Yes, but it is very dear.

What is politeness?-The art of avoiding to give unnecessary pain.

[merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small]

What are romances inade of?—

What is flattery?The art of deceiving others, in order to ingratiate our- Stories of people who never lived, selves in their opinion. chronicles of things never done, and What is hope made of?Our wish-relations of words never spoken. es. It dances before our path, but fades when we attempt to grasp it; like the rainbow, which seems to rest on earth, but is only the creation of our vision.

What is disappointment made of? Hope.

Where can I get it?-Every where, if you take imagination and passion for your guides.

What are they good for?-To sof ten the heart, amuse the fancy, and refine the taste.

What are reviews?-Books which are written by the friends or enemies of people who have written other Books, and which praise or blame them ac✩ cordingly.

How can I get into them?—You must write a good deal better or worse.

What is pity?-The uneasy sensa-than other people. tion we feel when we look at suffering. What is it good for ?—Nothingunless accompanied by active benevolence.

[ocr errors]

What is mischief?-The wit of fools. What ispunning? The folly of wit. What is a repartee?-That which it is clever to think, and wise to suppress. What is revenge made of? The seed of injury, sown in a rank soil.

What is it good for?-To people

the dominions of Satan.

PRINTED, PUBLISHED AND SOLD,
Every Wednesday, by
WILLIAM TAIT, & Co.

Lyceum Court, Nelson Street, Where Communications, post paid, may be addressed to the Editor:

Sold also by Mr. Griffin, Public Library

Hutcheson St.; at the Shops of the Princi What is resentment?-The natur-pal Booksellers, Glasgow, also at Mr. Hunal consequence of injury.

What is it good for?-To terrify evil minds into the bounds of decency. Where can I find it ?-Wherever you have repulsed tenderness, insulted

ter's, Bookseller, 23, South Hanover Street, Edinburgh; and at Mr. Wales' Printing Office, Castle Street Liverpool, for ready money only.

« ElőzőTovább »