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launched on that river, thence to navigate mood, but the best poetry in its total effect is the Lake Nyassa to its northern end, near cheerful and encouraging. Even when it treats which the disaster is said to have occurred. of sorrow, of pain, of death, it is sympathetic, If the sad story be true, and Livingstone but not despondent and gloomy: The very has really been killed, the news will doubt- production of the exceptional sad poem indiless have spread along the shores of the “Iliad,” treating much of war, wounds, and
cates a degree of victory over the sadness. The lake, or great line of traffic of the country. violent death, is animated and exhilarating Again, bis instruments, note-books, guns, throughout; of Dante's great poem, the first &c. - the relics of his expedition - will part is most read, for its fierce picturesqueness have found their way as articles of barter and dreadful fascination, but the second is an among the natives. In the absence of such ascending symphony of hope and faith, and the signs, and in the event of the exploring third part a hymn of heavenly rapture. Chauparty finding no proofs whatever of his cer is cheerful as the green landscape after a death, why, then I shall firmly believe that spring shower; Spenser full of rich vivacity the man who was appointed her Majesty's multifarious world of' movement and interest ;
and bold adventure; Shakespeare's book a consul to all the chiefs in the interior of nothing did Goethe so much abhor, in life and South Africa is still carrying out his great in literature, as despondency, discouragement. mission.
The poet, when he is most himself, rises to a In conclusion, I do not hesitate to say high and serene view. He will not exhibit that this search after Livingstone would grief, misery, horror, in isolated sharpness, and meet with the hearty approval of the coun- for the mere sensational effect; these must lose try. It can be carried out at small cost and their harsh and painful prominence, and fall accomplished within a few months, thus into place in a large and noble circle of ideas. clearing away the painful suspense which The merely painful always marks as inferior hangs over the fate of the illustrious travel the work in which it is found. Didactic poetry ler; and surely the civilized world will ex. they are narrowed not merely by human but by
and doctrinal poetry are also inferior, so far as pect that such a tribute of respect, at least, particular limitations, concerned too much shall be paid to so renowned and disinter- with certain people, opinions, circumstances, ested an explorer.
with the temporary and accidental. In the I remain your obedient servant. pure mountain air which blows over the realm ,
RODERICK I. MURCHISON. of true poetry no mental epidemic can exist, 16 Belgrave square, April 23.
or if it rises thither it melts away; fever of
partisanship, itch of personality, opthalmia of P. S. In proof of the intense interest lands. Yet the poet escapes not the influence
dogmatism, lie below with fog upon the marshwhich is taken in the desire to ascertain the of his time ; usually it affects him far too fate of my valued friend, I may state that I much. He is apt to fall into sudden timidity have received more than twenty applica- in the midst of his boldest enterprises, apt to tions from competent men to serve as volun- yield to the pressure of the hour. Also his teers in the Livingstone Search Expedi- delicate senses persuade him to luxury and tion."
sloth. His experience of the stupidity and the selfishness which have possession of so many human beings goads him sometimes into one or another form of cynicism. He may sometimes write below his own dignity and that of
his art. But, remember, if be puts any evil Poetry. - Poetry, as we believe, preserves' (here is not meant by evil what this person or and purifies language, cultivates good taste, that person may object to, put contradiction of helps memory, fills the mind with fair images his own better self, treason to bumanity) – if and high, unselfish thoughts; wondrously in- he puts any wickedness into his poetry, it is so creases our perception and enjoyment of natu- much the less poetry. So far, it suffers loss ral beauty, relieves the pain of our usual lack of value and of rank. The external facts, too, or poverty of expression, shaping and bringing and incidents connected with composition and within compass multifarious thoughts and feel publication are often ugly, nauseous, and warpings, otherwise inexpressible. But the boon of ing. The ideal, the typical poet, has all but boons, including all the rest, is the general en superhuman power of vision and of speech. largement, elevation, emancipation of the soul. But in the actual, every poet is very limited Poetry universalizes. In its last result it is and imperfect. Even the great poets are never despondent, but inspired with the loftiest faulty, full of faults and short-comings. Each, joy and courage. It begins in the glad sense limited already in his genius, is also limited of universal beauty, and when it bestows the from without, and does not do even as well as same glad sense upon its hearers, its result is he might. On every side a dull and perverse accomplished. Here and there you find a short world of persons and circumstances presses in poem, exceptional, expressing a despondent upon his work. — Fraser's Maagzine.
GENERAL CHANGARNIER has just broken | put on foot an army equal in point of numhis long silence on political affairs, dating bers to the largest that could by possibility from his arrest at the time of the coup be brought against her; and such an atd'état, and has written an essay in the last tempt would even be more ruinous and number of the Revue des Deux Mondes on absurd with us. London Review, 20 April. the reorganization of the army.
His judgment is not favourable to the Government scheme; at the same time, he disclaims any intention of systematic opposition, and admits that after the battle of Sadow, there AntiPHONAL Chanting.–The Rev. George was a pretext for making some kind of al- Venables, Vicar of Friezland, writing to the
“As much teration. That battle, by the way, he de- Churchman on this subject, says: scribes, with the characteristic jealousy of attention is now given to Church congrega
tional singing and chanting, allow me to menFrenchmen at the military successes of other
tion a method which I once introduced into a nations, as one of the greatest disasters in church for promoting good antiphonal chanting. the history of France.” The General does It might be introduced in singing hymns also, not care much about rifled cannon and if desirable. The plan is simply that of dividmodern arms of precision ; he denies that ing the congregation, as nearly as practicable, the Prussian needle-gun was the main cause into two equal portions, one-half chanting the of the Prussian success last summer; yet he first verse, the other half the second verse, and grants that France must not be behind so throughout. The effect is excellent. A other nations in these matters, and that, if nice spirit of singing seems to be engendered soldiers even fancy that they are worse by. it, as a not improper feeling of emulation
arises, by which the two great companies armed than their opponents, they are pretty (Nehemiah xiii. 31, 40, 43) rival one another sure to follow their leaders with distrust. in their endeavour to sing unto the Lord, and He has no faith in the Prussian landwehr to make a joyful noise to the rock of our salvasystem, and asserts that the Prussian army, tion.' The idea was original on my part when in the campaign with Austria, being com. I began it, but most of your readers will know posed to a great extent of raw troops sud- that it is the ancient method of chanting. My denly taken from sedentary occupations, conviction is that this arrangement does much could not have supported the fatigue of a
to promote that thorough and hearty congregalong war, and that, even as it was, they tional singing and chanting which all our offices filled the hospitals with sick, and studded recognise, and which we ought to encourage.” the roads with loiterers. With reference to
BAMBOOS FOR PAPER. — The considerable the French army, Changarnier is in favour trade which is now carried on between the West of a comparatively small, but thoroughly Indies and America in bamboos for the manudisciplined, force of professional soldiers, facture of paper is new to that part of the world, and is strongly opposed to the formation of but the Chinese have long applied the bamboo a large reserve of imperfectly drilled ama- to the same purpose. The article is only teurs. One of the most important prin- secund in importance, says the Morning Star, ciples he lays down, however, is that, after to tea as exports from Foo chow. The young a certain point, mere numbers are useless, shoots are used for food in Shanghai and Ningor even mischievous. “No doubt," he argues, po, and during the autumn provide freight for " if 3,000 men are pitted against 5,000, the several steamers. It is manufactured also into odds are very great in favour of the larger Che-foo and Tien-tsin, the trade being carried
paper, of which an immense quantity is sent to force. But when you come to 60,000 on upon a smaller scale with Ningpo, Shanghai, against 100,000, the chances change consid- and Woochang. Our paper-makers are always erably, and the higher the numbers go, the grumbling about the supply of rags — why less important it is that an army should be don't they try bamboo? equally matched. The larger an army, the more difficult it is to handle, and there is a Tae Rev. Francis Trench communicates to point, soon reached, at which it cannot be Notes and Queries an anecdote of David Hume, handled to any good purpose at all.” It which he says he found in the "Memoirs of cannot be doubted that such is the case ; James, Earl of Claremont” (edition 1810): and the gallant General's words should be
“ He once professed hinself the admirer of a borne in mind by those alarmists in this young, most beautiful, and accomplished lady country who would have us maintain an at Turin, who only laughed at his passion. enormous standing army because the Con- One day he addressed her in the usual com.
monplace strain, that he was abîme, anéanti. tinental Powers ihink fit to do the same. 'Oh! pour anéanti,' replied the lady, ce n'est Changarnier denounces as ruinous and ab- en effet qu’une opération très-naturelle de rotre surd any attempt on the part of France to systéme.'”
BY JULIE LANARD.
A BIRD'S SONG IN THE NIGHT. But the still depths of th' unreturning past
Have buried more than blessings, nor alone
And healing waters kindly Time hath cast
Sorrows and sins, where in th' eternal tide That seemed to fall from out his throat Heaves the full heart of God, and we confide, Half boldly and half timidly,
Not comfortless, to Him the First and Last,
The secrets of our being. — Lo! the face
Of ocean, kissed by the descending breeze,
Breaks into smiles, and long-lost melodies
New-born of hope, lies on the breathing seas —
Macmillan's Magazine. C. E. P.
CUI BONO ?
BY GEORGE ARNOLD.
HOPE AND MEMORY.
A FARMLESS fellow, wasting useless days,
Am I: I love my comfort and my leisure : Earth has each year her resurrection-day, Let those who wish them, toil for gold and When the spring stirs within her, and the pow- praise ;
To me this Summer day brings more of Of life revive; the quiet autumn hours,
While solemn voices from the Past are callair
ing, Plays round it, while along its desert way
Mingled with rustling whispers in the trees, Blossom bright flowers of hope, and dull des- And pleasant sounds of water idly falling.
pair Melts like a cloud ; — and our dear Christ has There was a time when I had higher aims said,
Than thus to be among the flowers, and lisThere is a resurrection of the dead; Then may th' immortal spirit yet repair
To lisping birds, or watch the sunset's flames The freshness and the grace that here had fcd,
On the broad river's surface glow and glisten. And in new strength and beauty flourish there.
But as a ship, when all the winds are gone, There was a time, perhaps, when I had thought Hangs idly in mid ocean, so the soul
To make a name, a home, a bright existHelplessly drifting hears the waters roll, While in the heaven the breeze of hope dies But time has shown me that my dreams were dowi,
naught And memory darkens round, and from the lone Savo a mirage that vanished with the disVast sea dim shapes arise, and shadowy fears Cling like damp mists, and the long track of
years (Where once the brightness of the morning
Well, it is gone : I care no longer now shone)
For fame, for fortune, or for empty praises ; Lies strewn with wrecks of that rich argosy
Rather than wear a crown upon iny brow With which the bark sailed freighted to explore
I'd lie for ever here among the daisies. The unknown deep, and distant gleaming shore,
So you, who wish for fame, good friend, pass Keen, soaring hopes and aspirations high,
by : Pure thoughts, and sunny fancies, and the With you I surely cannot think to quarrel :
Give me peace, rest, this bank whereon I lie, Of priceless gems from God's own treasury. And spare me both the labour and the laurel !
No. 1201. Fourth Series, No. 62. 8 June, 1867.
SHORT ARTICLES : Jasper, 638. Fanny Fern's Literary Success, 650. Golden Hair, 672.
NEW BOOKS. MODERN INQUIRIES: Classical, Professional, and Miscellaneous. By Jacob Bigelow, M.D. Little, Brown, & Co., Boston. [It is rather out of our walk to give an opinion on medi. cal subjects; but Dr. Bigelow is so far above the pedantry of his profession, that his grand Common Sense is intelligible and interesting to everybody who has that faculty. We accidentally took up his book on Self-Limiting Diseases, some years ago, (it is included in this volume), and did not lay it down till we had read the whole work, which must have exercised great influence upon the profession. And so with his article on The Limits of Education, which begins this volume, and which should be read by all Presidents of Colleges, and by all who have sons to send to them. Busy as we are we shall read the whole volume.]
Aunt MARGARET's TROUBLE. A Tale of Love, Selfishness, and Retribution. T. B. Peterson & Brothers, Philadelphia.
Nearly ready for Publication at this Office
THE STARLING. By Norman Macleod, D.D. Price, 38 cents.
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KNOCKING AT THE HEART.
Is this the Peace of God, this strange sweet. calm ?
One bid me turn aside, The weary day is at its zenith still,
Saying He had a message I could hear Yet 'tis as if, beside some cool clear rill, Best in some quiet place; but as I went Through shadowy stillness rose an evening I heard the busy voices of the orld, psalm,
And, listening to them, answered in my pride And all the noise of life were hushed away, That I had ears for both, and was intent And tranquil gladness reigned with gently sooth. On keeping all my old companions near.
ing sway. It was not so just now. I turned aside
He called me once again, With aching head, and heart most sorely Pleading that He had precious things to say, bowed :
Which He desired that I should understand ; Around me cares and griefs in crushing Things which He might not tell to other men. crowd ;
I said, that if I were too long away, While inly rose the sense, in swelling tide, I could not join my company, and then Of weakness, insufficiency, and sin,
Should lose my place of honour in the land. : And fear, and gloom, and doubt in mighty flood rolled in.
He told me I was ill;
Because He saw my labour was too much,
That I had planned that morning to fulfil ;
And yet I suffered sore : And there was calm. O Saviour, I have My eyes were dim with weeping all the night ; proved
A heavy burden preyed upon my mind; That Thou to help and save art really near ; I dared not look on the long way before ; How else this quiet rest from grief, and fear, I dared not look on the dark way behind : And all distress? The cross is not removed, Glad morning could not bring my spirit light; I must go forth to bear it as before,
The way of hope and peace I could not find. But, leaning on Thine arm, I dread its weight
I am grown wiser now, Is it indeed Thy peace? I have ot tried And sadder, with the knowledge of my loss To analyse my faith, dissect my trust, Of all the holy words I might have learned, Or measure if belief be full and just,
Of counsels whose sweet comfort would not And therefore claim Thy peace. But Thou hast died,
Oh, if, alone with Him, I had but turned, I know that this is true, and true for me, Had bowed in meekness 'neath the bitter Cross, And knowing it, I come, and cast my all on And found it change to blessing and to peace !
It is not that I feel less weak, but Thou
He is not far away ;
Sound sweeter than the music of the day.
And I will list each word that Thou canst say I do not think or pray, I only rest,
As humbly as a child, - and will rejoice. And feel that Thou art near, and know that I am blest.
- Sunday Magazine.
ELPIS. -Sunday Magazine. FANNY R. HAVERGAL.