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there certainly are particular manifestations severe-indulgent to faults which do not imof each of these faults which deserve that mediately interfere with social cnjoyment, or reproach. A man might be a thorough gen- of which the pleasant consequences are imtleman who was in the habit of systemati- mediate, and the unpleasant ones remote, cally mortifying and wounding others by sar- and severe upon every thing which tends to castic exposures of their folly or ignorance, make the act of association uncomfortable or but it would be inconsistent with the charac- insecure. This explains the reason why lying ter of a gentleman to produce the very same and breaches of trust of all sorts are inconeffects by ridiculing a personal defect or a sistent with the character of a gentleman, domestic calamity.
whilst incontinence and debauchery are not. It may be said that this is mere caprice, It must be observed, however, that the moral and that such distinctions—which are but element in the conception of the character of a specimens of a very numerous class-rest gentleman is really moral, though it is partial. upon no principle whatever. But this is not It stigmatizes lying, not merely because it is the case.
Almost all, if not all, the ques- unpleasant, nor merely because it is immoral, tions which can be raised upon the subject but because it is unpleasant, immoral, and may be solved upon a single principle. inartistic at one and the same time. These When people are in the habit of associating considerations tend rather to explain what is together, they inevitably, though uncon- meant by the spirit of a gentlemam than sciously, set up a certain standard of conduct, what conduct is specifically gentleman-like. conformity with which is a condition of being The solution of that question depends not so a member of the society. This standard is much upon the standard of conduct set up not fixed with exclusive reference to any one by society as upon its laws of conduct. A element of human nature, but embraces all man who has but little sympathy with the those which are concerned in the objects of one may pass muster well enough by observthe association. Those who sympathize with ing the other. The laws of society apply the temper of the society often imbibe thor- rather to the minor than to the greater oughly the spirit of this standard, and con- morals, and, like all other laws, they are stantly show its influence in their conduct. capable of being observed almost mechaniSocieties, however, whatever may be their cally and by mere abstinence. There are, object, have not only a pervading tone and for example, a great number of social rules temper, but have almost always definite laws, which are founded upon the principle that which are of more or less importance accord- social intercourse implies respect. Thus it ing to the ends to which they are directed; is against all the laws of civilized society to and a man may implicitly and habitually call a man names, and it is against the spirit obey them without entering in any degree of civilized society on most occasions to give into the spirit in accordance with which they him pain. Aman who said ill-natured things were framed, just as a judge might rigorously might be a worsc man than one who called carry into execution laws of which he entirely his neighbor a fool or a liar, but he would disapproved, or as a secretary might put into have kept the law, whilst the other would shape reasonings or conclusions which he have broken it. This explains why many considered altogether absurd.
trifles are ungentleman-like, whilst many seThese remarks apply to all associations rious offences are not. whatever. But they will throw considerable It appears from all this that a real, though light upon the different questions suggested not perhaps a very definite, meaning can be above, and upon others of the same kind, if attached to one of the assertions which, as what is in popular language called "society” has been observed, is included under the is considered as an association of a number word gentleman—the assertion, namely, that of different people, not for purposes of busi- a certain set of good qualities usually go toness, or of direct advantage, but for the sake gether. Whether the second assertion which of enjoying the pleasure of each other's com- it includes is true—namely, that those qualipany. The general standard of conduct ties are characteristic of a particular class of which such an association would set up would society—is quite another question. It is one be partly moral, partly artistic, and partly in- which every one must answer for himself tellectual. It would be somewhat narrow in from his own experience. Perhaps the opinits range, embracing only those departments ion which is at once the most charitable and of life which come frequently into view, and the least extravagant is, that though there would thus have little or no application to is no position in life in which a man may strange, occasional actions, like murder or not be a gentleman if he has it in him, there arson, which tend not so much to disturb the is also none which makes him one of itself, harmony of social intercourse as to put an and not many which are very favorable to end to it altogether. It is natural that it his being one. should be a standard at once indulgent and
MY FIFTIETH BIRTHDAY.
To play among the pebbles, I
Would love, on that familiar shore,
Where once I watched the swallows fly
The dancing, rippling waters o'er.
I'd like to climb the apple-tree,
Where once the spicy sweeting grew, How long, how very long 'twould be
Make grape-vine swings, and have a glee; Ere I could live out fifty ycars;
But I am fifty-'wouldn't do. To think of it oft checked my gleo,
I'd like to go a-nutting now, And filled my childish heart with fear.
And gather violets in the glen
And wreathe the wild flowers round my brow, I looked at grandma as she sat,
As well as e'er I did at ten.
I'd like to slide upon the pond,
To watch the old mill struggling there Must I sit in an arm-chair so,
In icy chains, while all beyond A white frilled cap around my face,
Was one broad mirror, cold and glare. With dull drab strings, and no'er a bow,
I'd like to see the noisy school, And keep things always in their place ?"
Let out a-nooning, as of old,
Play “Lost my glove," and "Mind the rule ;”. The lines of care, the sigh of pain,
My heart throbs quick-it is not cold. The “Hush !” her lips so oft let fall,
I hear the cry of Kate and Jane, Made me wish, o'cr and o'er again,
Of Lottie, Lina, Helen and SueI never might grow old at all.
Ah, yes! (I'll own it) in between Yet she was ever chicerful, and
Como George, and Dan, and William, too. Would ofttimes join our sports and mirth;
I'm fifty, but I am not sad ; And many a play by her was planned
I see no gloom in ripening years ; Around the winter evening hearth.
My hopes are bright, my spirit gladBut then she played not by the brook,
How vain were all my childish fears! She did not gather pretty flowers,
My childish sports, I loved them then; Sho did not sing with merry look,
I love to think them over still ; Nor make a spring-time of the hours. To shut my eyes, and dream again So, when she said, one sunny morn,
Of silvery stream and woodland hill. “ You will be old, like me, some day," But life has pleasures holier still I wept like ono of hope forlorn,
Than childhood's play, with all its zest, And threw my playthings all away.
That, as we journey down the hill, Be old ! like grandma, and not roam
Make cach succeeding year the best. The glen in spring, for violets blue,
Now stalwart men are at my hearth, Or bring the bright May blossoms home,
And “bonnie lassics" laughing free, Or pick the strawberries 'mong the dew ? That had not lived on this good earth, Be old ! and in the summer timo
To lovo and labor, but for me; Tako wcary naps in midday hours,
And shall 1 pine for childhood's joys, And fail the Chandler trees to climb,
For woodland walks and violets blue,
Are doing what I used to do?
My days of toil, my years of caro,
Have never chilled my spirit's flow, And shout the rich ripe clusters down?
Or made one flower of life less fair Bc old! and sit round wintry fires ?
Than in the spring-time long ago. Be fifty! have no sliding spreo?
The paths I trod were sometimes rough, And hush away all wild desires ?
And sharp and piercing to my feet; I thought 'twere better not to be.
Yet there were daisied walks enough
To make it all scem smooth and sweet.
Friends that I loved have passed from sight With sunny hours and clouded sky,
Before me to the spirit homo; Till now I'm fifty-now I'm old.
But in the day that knows no night, The sunburnt locks are silvery now,
I know they'll greet me when I come. That used to dangle in the wind;
Hopes that I cherished, too, were vain ;
But I have lived to feel and know
That were life to live o'er again,
'Twere better that it should be so. Spectacles lic upon my nose, But no white frill looks prim and cold;
At every winding of the way, My gray hair curls—I wear pink bows
I'vo.sought for love, and love have given ; I do not feel so very old.
For love can chcer the darkest day,
And make the poorest home a beaven.
O ye who're passing down, like me,
Floats o'er the bosom of the fair blue lake Life's autumn side, be brave and strong, No legend, mingling with its wave, sun-kissed, And teach the lisper at your knce
No airy hosts their cloudy banners shake,
Rising at evening from its purple mist.
No fairies dance upon the moonlit green,
No Dryads linger in the scented woods, With love of duty everywhere.
Ne'er the white Naiad's gleaming hair was seen
Where dip the flowers into the silent floods. As violins in foreign lands,
Here, childhood's self is wise, and weird, and Broken and shattered o'er and o'er,
pale, When mended and in skilful hands,
Nor long it listens with undoubting eyes, Make swceter music than before,
To Sinbad's travels in the “ Diamond Vale," So, oft the heart, by sorrow torn,
Or how the “Giant Slayer" climbed the skies. Gives forth a loftier, clearer song Than that which greeted us at morn,
Nor long they weep above the leaves that shade When it was new, and bravo, and strong. The unforgotten“ Children of the Wood," Father, I thank thee for them all,
Or follow sadly through the summer glade These fifty years which now are passed ;
Poor foolish, flower-loving
Hood.” Oh! guide mc, guard me, till the fall of death my form shall hide at last.
This is the twilight land of thought, whereon Let me in love and kindness still
The spent waves of old Europe's glory pour, Live on, nor e'cr grow hard and cold;
Flinging the dancing foam afar that shone, Bend me and break me to thy will,
A soiled and ragged selvage on the shore. But may my spirit ne'er grow old !
O dreamer! make not here thy rapt delay.
Or fling thy finer fancies to the wind,
As the wrecked swimmer plunging in the spray My spirit droops beneath these unloved skies, Flings his impeding vesture first behind.
I! the free daughter of the far-off hills ! If, charmed, you listen to a siren song, Born whero the blue-peaked, misty mountains
Or watch the pallid glory of a star, rise
Then shall you fall amid the trampling throng, Trod by the shining feet of many rills ;
And iron Progress crush thee 'neath his car. My childhood nursed amid a land's romance, -Dublin University Magazine. ENUL.
Filled with the legends of a thousand years,
THE RETURNED LETTERS.
How she strives hier grief to smother! When through its unpressed grass the first flow- Tears fall on the snowy page ; ers sprung,
To a daughter writes the mother, Ero yet its silent valleys had been trod.
Calls her home to chcer her age. Fair its dark woodlands swcep unto the sea,
Weary then with looking-longing, Cresting the low, soft hills with their green Wecks and weeks pass sadly by ; crowns,
All the past to mem'ry thronging-
Hoping on, but-no reply.
Till at last there comes a letter: And there are rivers rushing like wild steeds,
'Tis her own, she traces there, Tossing tho white foam far, their floating Better she had dicd, far better, mancs ;
“ Gono away, and not known where." And soft the night-winds murmur through tho
reeds, And bend the long grass rippling o'er the From her home across the ocean, plains.
Blotted with repentant tears, Starts from the forest path, the shy, fcet fawn. Writes the daugliter her emotionBrushing the heavy dew from strango wild How she turns to carlier years; flowers;
Prays that Heav'n may bless her mother, And glows warm summer over lako and lawn, Tells hier of her wedded joy, Not with the half-veiled loveliness of ours.
How she left her for another
Sends the picture of her boy. But oh ! 'tis all too present, and too real :
Then she waits to be forgiven, No memories crown the green and gorgeous
Till another year bas fled;
Back her letter, torn and riven,
Comes, -and on it written-“DEAD."
J. E. CARPENTER. grand;
From 'The Saturday Review. hand across his eyes, rushed into the jungle, THE HUNTING-GROUNDS OF THE OLD saying, “Do not let him linger.' When his WORLD.*
back was turned I placed the muzzle of my The sporting recollections of the gentle- pistol to the suffering animal's temple, and man who, with a modesty which appears to pulled the trigger.” be somewhat superfluous, conceals his name Boars introduce the subject of tigers; and under the initials H. A. L., are even more H. A. L., like Captain Shakespear, whose extensive and diversified than is usually the work we recently noticed, has a great deal case with Indian officers. They extend not to say upon that subject. He has the satonly over all parts of India, but to Circassia isfaction of being able to recollect that he and Algeria ; and they conclude, appropri- put to death a confirmed man-eater, which ately enough, with a chapter upon the use was supposed to have devoured about a huriand different descriptions of fire-arms. H. dred persons, and was proved to have killed A. L.'s style is less simple, and aims rather twenty-two, as parts of that number of bodies more at fine writing, than that of most of were found in his lair by H. A. L. and his his fellow-sportsmen ; but on the whole his companions who beat the jungle for him. book is exceedingly amusing, and its blem- The sight was one of the most revolting that ishes are very few and very pardonable. could possibly be witnessed. The comments Since the year 184-,- for he seems as mod- of the party appear to have been singularly est about the precise dates as he is about his characteristic. "What a fearfully sickening
“ name,— he has been a hunter, constantly sight it is,” said the first. “I wish we had growing by practice mightier and mightier. brought some beer with us," added the secHis earlier feats were performed upon sam- ond. “ Poor woman," remarked the third ; bur or jungle deer, which are not unlike the “here is a lock of her hair I found sticking Scotch red deer, except that they are consid- to my boot. I shall keep it.” A day or erably larger. Some of these he contrived, two afterwards H. A. L. went alone in the with the assistance of a friend, to shoot, by evening to a place where the tiger was in way of initiation into Indian sporting. His the habit of springing on passers-by, and account of the pursuit of them reads very was fortunate enough to attract his attention. like parts of Fenimore Cooper's novels, as The man-eater sprung into the path close by the deer have to be followed with all sorts him, and was met by a rifle ball which disof precautions through jungles which are al- abled him, whilst a second laid him dead. most impassable, and in which the track is Another tiger was at any rate somewhat followed up with a tact only attainable either more fortunate in his death—in so far, that by practice so early and continuous as to re- is, as it can be considered a comfort to be semble an instinct, or by long and careful revenged of one's enemies in such a case. study and observation.
He struck down one of H. A. Li's native From deer H. A. L., promoted himself to servants and killed him on the stop, immewild boars, which are ridden upon with diately after which he was himself shot spears, after a fashion which can only be through the head. The hunt at which this compared to fox-hunting without hounds- incident took place is excellently described. the fox being replaced by an animal which H. A. L., with a friend and his native seris perfectly qualified, both by his strength wants, encamped for a day or two near a and by his fierceness, to put both the men large pool formed by a mountain stream deand the horses who pursue him into the scending from the Neilgherry hills, which most imminent danger. On one occasion, was the resort of all the animals of the the horse of one of H. A. L.'s companions neighboring forest for the purpose of drinkwas cut down by the rush of a boar which ing. A sort of hut was erected on the top had just received a spear through the loins, of a huge black boulder ten feet high, in such and the painful duty of shooting him de- a manner that the rifles commanded all apvolved on H. A. L. himself. The story is proaches, either to the rock or the pool. All told in a really affecting manner.
"I saw at day and all night the pool was visited by difa glance that it was a hopeless case, and tap- ferent birds and beasts, each animal selectping
Non the shoulder, I gave a signif- sing its appropriate time. At midday all aniicant look to the small pistol that I always mated nature appears to be overcome by the carried loaded in my belt. The poor animal, fierce heat; but as the day wears on, butterin spite of his agony, recognized his master, flies flutter about, whilst bees, beetles, and for he raised himself up partly from the myriads of insects keep up a perpetual hum, ground, and rubbed his nose against bis which produces an effect singularly strange, shoulder in a most affectionate manner. Soothing, and dreamy.” This sound is vaN-kissed his forehead, and passing his ried at times by the cries of peacocks and
* The JJunting-Grounds of the Old World. By jungle fowl, the chattering of monkeys, and the "Old Shekarry," H. A. L. London : Saun- the screams of paroquets. Towards evening ders, Otley, and Co. 1860.
the birds return homeward from their feed
ing grounds-flamingoes, pelicans, ibises, a wonderfully beautiful and interesting counstorks, herons, egrets, and plovers; and as try, and is prolific in strange adventures. the night comes on, moths flit about, frogs One of the stories which H. A. L. heard croak, and crickets chirp, “ keeping up a there sounds like an exaggeration of the perpetual screnade." “Then is heard the well-known anecdote of the bird-catcher of whooping of the great rock-monkeys, the the Hebrides, who to save his own life cut bark of the elk, the mournfiil howling of the away from under him the rope by which his hyena, the unearthly shrieking of jackals, father and brother were suspended. Eleven the trumpeting of elephants as they crash Abbassians, with five Russian prisonersthrough the underwood. At intervals, the four men and a woman—were returning distant roar of a prowling tiger is re-echoed home from an expedition across a steppe among the hollow arches of the forest, as he covered with snow. After a time they found leaves his lair in its inmost recesses to search that they were pursued by a horde of wolves. in the plains for prey, and great horned owls They hastened at their utmost speed towards Ait past on muffled wings with strange se- the nearest hamlet, which was seven miles pulchral cries, like evil spirits of darkness." off, but their horses were tired, and the Whilst encamped in this romantic situation, wolves gained on them. They then“ deterthe hunters shot two tigers, a deer, and a mined to sacrifice the prisoners one by one, huge carp weighing upwards of sixty pounds. so as to gain time for the rest to escape. This creature met its death from a ramrod They began by hamstringing the woman's which was fired at it out of a common musket, horse, and she and it were in a moment torn wich a cord and some wire attached. The to pieces, but ground was gained. After a ramrod passed completely through it, and time the wolves again approached, and all carried the wire and part of the cord with it, the prisoners were sacrificed, one after the but such was its strength that it took an other. Two of their own party then fell; a hour's work to get it landed. The whole of third-an old man whose sons were present this hunt was successful, several bisons and -killed his horse, and so gave himself some wild elephants forming part of the the beasts. Another man and horse were spoil. One of the latter was a “rogue' shot by the leader of the party; and at last that is, he was a beast who had been turned the remainder, with one exception, reached out of the herd by the other elephants, and a hut and barricaded themselves in it. The was marked in various places with the scars remaining man was devoured with his horse which he had received in fighting with them. before their eyes. The wolves stayed round These rogues, from their solitary life, become the hut for nearly two days, trying to get in, morose and vicious, and will, without provo- and eating up such of their own number as cation, attack any one they happen to meet. were killed or wounded by the fire from
H. A. L.'s Circassian experience has more within ; but in the course of the second night novelty than his Indian stories. After the a violent storm arose, and they took themconclusion of peace with the Russians, he selves off, leaving the six survivors to escape. made his way into Circassia with six attend- H. A. L.'s principal feat in Circassia (beantsman Arnout, a Koord, a Nubian, a sides shooting an enormous bear, four feet Khabyle, a Hindoo fakeer, and another Hin- high at the shoulder) was the ascent of doo who had been sold as a slave in his Mount El-Bruz, the highest mountain in the childhood to the Circassians. This motley country. He did not get to the top, but group was the remnant of a troop of Bashi- only to one of the lower peaks, from which, Bazouks which H. A. L. commanded on the however, he had a magnificent view extendDanube before our troops landed at Varna, ing from the Black Sea to a dense mist in and which was composed of men of twenty- the opposite direction, which as he supposed seven different nations. Circassia abounds overhung the Caspian. The ascent was adin all sorts of game. “ It is my belief,” says venturous enough, as a huge lammergeier, the author, " that swans, ducks, geese of all measuring nearly ten feet across his wings, kinds, besides snipe and woodcock, choose was shot, as well as an ibex with horns thirtythese secluded and almost inaccessible spots four inches long: One of the party, a Nuto herd in, migrating here for that purpose bian, died in the descent-probably from from all the other countries of Europe.” heart disease. “I killed in one day in a jheel (marsh), near The concluding chapter relates to Algeria, the foot of the Abassadagh mountain, four- and is less interesting than its predecessors, teen miles from Tshamshira, thirty-four brace as H. A. L. could not persuade the lions of woodcock, eleven couple of snipe, seven which he hunted to come and be killed. He geese, and sixty-one ducks, and could have had the pleasure of hearing one of them continued the slaughter, were it not that the snore and grunt, and he very nearly fell on villagers, for whose benefit it was intended, the top of him in a ditch some six feet deep. declared that they could not carry more The lion was dreadfully frightened, and ran away." The east coast of the Black Sea is 'away ; and H. A. L. got an attack of fever.