Later in the day he spoke with less difficulty- fear, a hopeless affair. A lesson by which some he said something to every one near him. To his may possibly profit, is the danger of precocious niece, who was leaning over him in great anxiety, celebrity-too easily as well as too early achieved and anticipating every little want, he said-Comelet us sing praises to Christ!-then pointing to the inducing afterwards reluctance for labor, with bed-side, he added-Sit here." Shall I pray for at the same time a sore, anxious fretfulness for you?" she said.-Oh, yes-he replied; let us pray the high and commanding authority which waits for one another! In the evening, a relation of only a patient, strenuous ambition :-a pain conmy own, whom he had known many years, and tinually sharpened, it may be, by the consciouswho accompanied us from London on this visit, read ness that the supereminent prize was, nay is, withprayers from the liturgy at his bed-side-and that in reach-yet this spur rarely overmastering the liturgy, of which the poet had so often expressed chill of tremor and the fatal creeping of laziness. his admiration in health, was a source of comfort in the hour of sickness. He expressed himself From which indulgences springs a thirst for others "soothed-comforted ;" and, after a few words ut- to cloak them-above all to cloak them from one's

tered in a whisper, he fell into a quiet slumber. As we sat by his side-reflecting on what had passed -we thought with Rogers :

self; namely-not to mention gross things-the tendency to cast about for ignobler gratification in the acquisition of such a standing in the world as Through many a year may be best promoted by worship of its secure inWe shall remember with a sad delight fluences-that is, by the art or trade of tufthuntThe words so precious which we heard to-night! ing, at present the most flourishing of mysteriesJune 14th.-At a moment when he appeared to or, if there be too much of pride or languor, or be sleeping heavily, his lips suddenly moved, and both together, for assiduity in this line, the falling in a slow, distinct whisper, he said-We shall see back on the humble but soft cushion which is al** to-morrow?-naming in the same breath a long-ways ready for any real celebrity, however stunted departed friend. After giving him a teaspoonful in its developement-the cheap luxury of assenof some liquid at hand, he moistened his lips with tation: which last appears undoubtedly to have it-adding as usual-“Thank you-much obliged;" and these were the last connected words we heard from him.-Vol. iii., pp. 372-375.

It

been Campbell's Delilah.

Both foibles however

spring from one and the same root-Vanitas vanitatum, omnia vanitas-and which is after all the worst growth of the two, it might not be so very easy to determine. They are frequently intertwined; the man who fawns upon the great is apt to lose no opportunity of making himself amends by playing the cock-of-the-club among those who will let him. Campbell was singularly free from the former blot. The balance of the culpabilities should be left for those who can acquit themselves of having tampered with either; and they will not perhaps be the sternest of critics for the mistakes and failings of a conscientious and benevolent man, who paid a good deal for them in his lifetime, and never injured any one but himself.

Next day, June 15th, 1844, he expired. was not unfortunate that he had ceased for some space to be before the English world. All was forgotten except the upright and generous qualities of the man, and the few imperishable creations of a genius in its own sphere seldom surpassed. It being known that he had from an early time counted on 66 going to sleep in Westminster Abbey," (vol. ii., p. 176,) his remains were brought over accordingly. On the 3rd of July they were interred in the Poets' Corner, hard by those of Chaucer and Dryden, and the obsequies were discharged in a very honorable manner. On one side the bier stood the chief of his clan, the late Duke of Argyle, and on the other Sir Robert [We shall frequently be able to fill up a vacant space by Peel, then prime minister; the attendance in- means of extracts from Southey's Common Place Book, cluded a large assemblage of hereditary and ac-published in a very handsome style by Messrs. Harper. quired distinction; and the services were read by Our readers may recognize these extracts hereafter by the a friend and brother-poet, one of the prebendaries, heads between brackets, as follows:] Mr. Milman. The inscription on the coffin was "Thomas Campbell, LL. D., author of the Pleasures of Hope, aged LXVII." A monumental the St. James' Magazine, (vol. i., p. 108,) signed statue (by Mr. Marshall) is now about to be erected in the abbey. It has two very common faults it conveys the notion of a much taller and more athletic man, and the attitude is somewhat theatrical; but the poet's features are preserved with happy fidelity.

:

His place is safe: yet the young aspirant should not neglect the warnings which, lasting as his honors will be, his history enforces. On the gravest of these, indeed, it would be idle to say a word; this tale is but one of the thousand that preach trumpet-tongued-to the deaf-the imprudence of any poor man in commencing life with no profession but that of the pen. That is, we

[APOSTROPHE TO PATIENCE.]
These stanzas, from an address to Patience, in

C. J., deserve to be reprieved from oblivion.
O come, surrounded with thy sober train

Of meekness, piety, and holy hope;
Blest source of peace, blest cure for every pain,
Without whose aid the proudest spirits droop.
Kindly descend to those whose humbled mind

Knows no relief, but what from Patience springs;
Whose griefs no cure, whose pangs no respite find;
On those descend with healing on thy wings.
O hover round the melancholy bed,
Where lingering sickness claims thy fostering

care,

Thy influence rears the drooping sufferer's head,
And gives a ray of merit to his prayer.

From the Winter's Wreath.
KESTER HOBSON.*

A TALE OF THE YORKSHIRE WOLDS.

Styx. Indeed, it is well known to have been
one of the most deep-rooted opinions of the olden
time, that if any person had buried money or jew-
els during his life-time, his spirit could take no
repose till the treasure was discovered. It may
seem strange to some readers that, at this late pe-
riod of history, there should have prevailed “ such
utter darkness in the land, and such gross dark-
ness in the people;" but the author of this little
narrative is well assured of their reality.
ignota loquor.

66

Haud

One winter's

In a retired part of the Yorkshire Wolds, stood, some years ago, the Castle of Lounsborough, an ancient seat of the noble house of Cavendish, which had long been in such a state of desertion and decay, that it has lately been thought expedient to demolish it altogether. At the commencement of the great civil war, on Sir Charles Hotham taking possession of Hull for the Parliament, These oft-repeated and well-attested stories and it had been, for several years, a place of refuge for made a deep impression on Kester's mind; several wealthy royalists. For this reason, per- often, whilst sitting alone in his chimney-corner, haps, or for some others more valid, a tradition he would muse on these marvellous circumstances, had long prevailed in the neighboring villages, and reflect with bitterness on his own misfortune, that many hidden treasures had been discovered at in being doomed to live in poverty amidst these different times, about the house and grounds of countless hoards of wealth, and perhaps, day after Lounsborough Castle. The noble owners, of day, to tread it under his feet, without being able course, treated these rumors with contempt; and to reach even a single noble-but compelled to never took any steps for asserting their manorial toil throughout his whole life for a miserable pitrights, or investigating their supposed claims. tance of a few shillings a week. About the middle of the last century, the night, having retired to bed full of these melancharge of the ancient domain was committed to a choly thoughts, he fell into a deep sleep; and man of the name of Christopher Hobson, who, dreamed that a sober, business-looking man, with with his wife and two daughters, constituted its a ledger under his arm, and a pen behind his ear, sole occupants. The females were employed in appeared at his bed-side, and, after giving him a keeping the house in decent order, whilst Chris- solemn and sepulchral look, such as beseemed a topher, or as he was commonly called Kester, messenger from the tomb, delivered a portentous busied himself in the gardens and grounds-so injunction to the following effect:-Christopher that in case of an unexpected visit from the noble Hobson was commanded to depart immediately for owners, which sometimes happened, the family London, and when arrived there, was ordered to were not wholly unprepared for their reception. walk backwards and forwards over London bridge Kester Hobson was in the habit of spending for an hour, on three successive nights, immetwo or three evenings a week at a small public-diately after dark, during which he would hear of house in the adjacent village, where a few of the some very important event that materially conpeasants and small farmers of the neighborhood cerned himself and family. usually assembled. At the period we are speak- This vision was so much more vivid, consistent ing of, many of the lingering superstitions of the and striking than an ordinary dream, that it left a very dark ages still maintained their ground in various deep impression on Kester's mind, and he thought parts of the kingdom, and in none did they keep of little else the whole of the following day. But their hold with greater tenacity than in the vil- though sufficiently superstitious, yet the expense lages of the Yorkshire Wolds. At their fireside and trouble of a journey to London were at that meetings, the conversation frequently turned on time matter of such serious import, that he could various old traditions respecting Lounsborough not bring himself to resolve on so perilous an unCastle; and, amongst other legends equally vera- dertaking, on grounds which he could not help cious, it was affirmed that on one occasion, to- feeling to be rather equivocal. The next night, wards the close of the civil war, a band of round- however, the same visitation was repeated, and in head Guerillas, under Harrison, having suddenly terms and manner still more awful and perempsurprised the castle, where some Baltic merchants tory. His mind now became quite bewildered, from Hull, of the king's party, had taken refuge, and he began to think seriously that an admonithe unfortunate cavaliers had been obliged to bury tion, thus solemnly repeated, could not with safetheir money, and having afterwards made a des- ty be disregarded. But on the third night the perate resistance, were all killed in defence of spectre again appeared, and delivered the same intheir precious deposites. So strong, however, junction with such an alarming and menacing aswas the attachment of these worthy traders to their pect, that, on awaking the next morning, Chrisbeloved wealth, that, even after death, their topher hesitated no longer, but began instantly to He told his shadowy forms had often been seen hovering make preparations for his journey. round the obscure places of the castle domain, family that an affair of importance, which he could like the ghosts of unburied heroes on the banks of not then explain, required his immediate presence in London; and begged them to defer asking any questions till his return.

This legendary tale was related to the author by some of the older peasants of the Wolds; similar traditions have prevailed in many other places.-See "Fairy Legends," by T. C. CROKER, Esq.

He next applied to an old friend, a neighboring farmer and a tenant of his master, for the loan of

a steady old horse, which he had sometimes borrowed for short journeys; assuring him, with a mysterious air, that he was going on an affair of great importance, in which, if he succeeded, the favor he was now asking should be amply compensated. He then took out from a small secret store, which had long been accumulating, a sum which he thought sufficient for the journey; and thus equipped and provided, he boldly set out for the metropolis.

Though the autumn was far advanced, and the roads consequently very bad, he arrived in town without any accident, and put up at a small inn in the borough, to which he had been recommended. Though he had never been in London before, he resolved to lose no time, but proceeded immediately to business. The night after his arrival, therefore, he betook himself to the foot of London bridge; and as soon as he heard St. Paul's clock strike seven, by which time it was quite dark, he commenced his walk, backwards and forwards, over the bridge. He continued this exercise till he heard the same clock strike eight; when, having observed nothing more remarkable than the coming and going masses of a busy crowd of passengers, he returned to his hotel. He was not much disappointed at the ill success of his first essay, as two more nights still remained. The second night passed exactly like the first, and he began to be a little disheartened. He commenced, however, the labors of the third night with renovated hope;-but when he heard the deep-mouthed bell again toll eight o'clock, his spirits sunk within him. With a heavy heart he prepared to quit the bridge, inwardly cursing his own credulity, and the devices of Satan, who, he doubted not, had lured him on to this ill-fated expedition.

seemest to be a stranger in London, I should be glad to offer thee any assistance in my power." Our hearts are never more warmed than by an offer of kindness in a strange place and amongst strange people. Kester Hobson possessed, perhaps, a greater portion than usual of that mixture of simplicity and cunning, which has been so often ascribed to his countrymen, but though always a little on his guard, he was not quite proof against this open and disinterested kindness. He expressed his thanks very heartily, but declared he was quite ashamed to confess his business in London, and the nature of those nightwalks which had excited the attention of the honest tobacconist. By degrees, however, his inquisitive friend got out of him, that he had, in fact been deeply mortified and disappointed; that he had expected to meet with a very particular person or occurrence on London bridge:—and, in short, that he had undertaken a long, expensive, and laborious journey to London, merely at the instigation of a dream. He suppressed, however, his name and residence, from a vague apprehension that such disclosure might by possibility expose him to ridicule, or to some other unpleasant consequence.

The quaker heard this strange confession with much surprise, and then replied with great solemnity. "It strikes me with astonishment, my good friend, that a man of thy decent and sober appearance should have come a journey of two or three hundred miles on such an errand as this! I thought such vain imaginations and weak superstitions had long since been eschewed by all men of sense, and abandoned to children and old women. It is deplorable to think that thy parents and instructors did not take care to root out all It may be necessary to remind some of our such idle fancies in early life, and then wisdom readers, that at the period we are speaking of, might peradventure have come with years and the entire length of London bridge was flanked by experience. However," continued he, “it does two rows of houses and shops, and a great retail not become me to erect mine horn aloft, and look business was carried on in this singular situation. down upon the weak and ignorant, because my own On one of these shops, decorated by the sign of a lot has fallen in better places. If I have been hithnegro boy with a pipe in his mouth, Kester Hob- erto enabled to turn aside from all such vain deson happened to cast his eye as he was about to vices, is it not because having been brought up, as quit the bridge-and it reminded him that his it were, at the feet of Gamaliel, I have learnt tobacco-box was empty; for the necessities of es- from the lessons of a wise father the ways of tablished habit will duly recur, even amidst our truth and soberness? And yet," added he, smilsorrows and disappointments. He entered the ing at Christopher, "I can assure thee, friend, shop, therefore, with a view of purchasing a that if I have constantly kept clear of all such desmall supply; and found behind the counter, an lusions, it has not been for lack of temptation. I elderly, sedate looking quaker, whose contented have, all my life long, been a great dreamer; and well-fed person indicated the prosperity of his and often my midnight visions have been so excalling. Whilst weighing the tobacco, he sur- press and surprising, that it has required the veyed our Yorkshire man with some earnestness, strong arm of truth and reason to resist their and then, in a tone which expressed a sort of good- allurements. Even this very last night, I was natured curiosity, accosted him as follows-"I beset with this temptation. I dreamed that an have observed, friend, with some surprise, that for elderly man, in a snuff-brown coat, with a pen several nights thou hast employed thyself for a stuck behind his ear, came to my bed-side, and considerable time in walking to and fro across this told me, that if I went into a back garden, belongbridge, and thy anxious looks seemed to expect ing to an ancient castle in Yorkshire, and dug the something very particular; I am afraid thou hast ground under the stone seat of an old gothic sumbeen waiting for some person who has disar point- mer-house, I should find a great treasure. Now," ed thee and failed in his engagement. If any ad- continued he, with a look of conscious superiority, vice or information of mine can be of use, as thou" if I had been as foolish as thou, I might have

neglected my business, and set off on a toilsome whom the very children feel privileged to mock. journey, in search of this imaginary treasure." How often do we see such a crazy unfortunate, Here Kester Hobson, who had thus far thought followed by a little tribe of urchin tyrants torthe good quaker's harangue rather prosing and te-menting and torturing it! some by the nick-name dious, began to prick up his ears, as the ancient and the cruel laugh-some by the mouth awry or poets express it; for he was well aware, that the broad grimace-others by the sly pull at the there was exactly such an old summer-house as ragged skirt--and a few by the coward stone :this, in a retired garden, in the grounds of Louns- and the loud shout of triumph the little mob will borough castle. His countenance betrayed a give, when they succeed in making the poor creavisible agitation; but fortunately he stood in a ture turn and stand at bay, or run after them in dark part of the shop, where the light did not fall fierce, but, happily for them, in impotent anger. upon his face. He could hardly forbear shouting Such a sight is not uncommon, and, to a man of with exultation; but, by a violent effort, he sup- thought and feeling, is very humiliating and afpressed his emotion, and replied as indifferently as fecting. he could, that it was true he had indeed been guilty of a great weakness, but he hoped he should be wiser for the future.

At the conclusion of the war, and upon the return of the regiment home, the battalion was reörganized; Kit was no longer in the same company with

of-the-way post or corner was found, in which to conceal Kit; but if, owing to untoward circumstances, such an arrangement could not be effected, I would get him well cleaned, and his appointments me, and, except being occasionally thrown on duty well put on, by one of the smartest of my corporals; and then place him in the rear rank, and a clever sergeant behind, with his eye constantly on him, to prevent him from discrediting the company by his blunders.

It may be supposed that such a subject soon became the butt of his comrades; they never wanted a joke, when he was by ;-they tormented him incessantly. They played him tricks, at which sometimes he himself gave the laugh of silliness; while at others, he would blubber like a baby. On these last occasions, I would rebuke him and punish the men ;-but I often, too often, shared in the laughter. Poor Kit! he went with us to the Peninsula: I remember him well in our marches there. My old captain, who was one of the best-tempered men I ever met with, would sometimes be provoked into a violent passion with him; and while he punished half the company for teazing him, would threaten, in a voice of thunder, "to ride down Kit's throat!" the only threat that ever effectually silenced him when he was in the mood to blubber and bellow; and the only punishment, if a threat be a punishment, he ever received.

near him, I almost lost sight of the man. At length, after a lapse of years, he fell again under my notice in India. I observed about him a very remarkable change-an evident improvement. He was far cleverer than he was ever wont to be; his awkward gait remained, but his look was no longer the same. His eye, once so restless, that used to be looking on every side, as if constantly expecting either reproof or ridicule, was now still and placid ; and a beam of contentment shone in it. He always saluted me with a look of kind and familiar recognition; and if I occasionally stopped and said a word to him, replied as if pleased at the notice.

I was much puzzled and perplexed at first about this change in a man, whose imbecility of mind I had once regarded as alike painful and hopeless. Upon making a more particular inquiry, I found that, in the company to which he belonged, he had become attached to the little child of one of his comrades, of whom he took as much care as if it had been his own; that he spent all his spare pay upon it; that he did his duty quietly, was regular, and neither troubled his fellow-soldiers, nor was troubled by them; and that he never associated with the men, but was always with this little child, who was exceedingly fond of him.

The silliness of the poor fellow was incredible. I remember on one occasion, when the regiment was Here was the secret. I more particularly obdrawn up, expecting to be immediately engaged, served him ever after:-I often met him with the and I was in charge of the company; as a simple child in his hand; a little common-looking childact of duty, I placed him in the front rank, lest, just old enough to trot by his side, and stammer out by his extreme awkwardness, he might do some its liking-with eyes that to him had beauty, for injury, in firing, to the man who would otherwise they looked up to him with affection. Here was have stood in front of him. It is a ludicrous fact, the secret; he had never hitherto found in the cold that the poor fellow complained to the colonel, as world anything to love him, anything he could love; he was riding down the line, that I had placed him here was a heaven-sent object exactly suited to his in the front rank to get him killed. "Is he not in heart's want; a little stranger in this earth, too the front rank himself, you fool!" was the colonel's young to know, and to take part with, those who reply. This shows, first, alas! that poor Kit re- despised him. A little thing, which perhaps had garded all the world, and me amongst them, as first attracted his notice when, in the chance abhis enemies-next, that he had not much of the sence of its parents, it stood terrified and helpless, hero in his composition. This little incident was crying in a tumultuous barrack-room. Poor Kit, never forgotten by the men of the company; and who had been buffeted with roughness from his they plagued him about it to the end of the war; very cradle, had been frightened or laughed out of but many a voice that gibed and jeered him was, his wits, and then scorned for having none; had in succession, silenced in death. He was one of been the sport of the lane or alley in which he was the few survivors in the company, at the termina-born, and then been driven from the haunts of home tion of those memorable campaigns. He was first to be the butt of his fellow-workmen, and present in every battle, and on every march. The next of those amongst whom he had cast in his lot handsome, and the happy, and the hardy fell around" to mend his fate or be rid on 't"-had now found him; Kit lived on. At the close of the bloody battle of Albuera, when I saw him safe upon that field of carnage, I was glad in my very heart; and felt that "I could have better spared a better man." I have said truly that Kit was no hero, as his complaint to the colonel on a former occasion had proved; yet he had apparently no fear of death. He stood in his place-had a pouch full of ball cartridges, and fired them away in the battle; whether guilty or innocent of blood, he could not on that occasion know, and little heeded.

something to love him.

Oftentimes now, as I met him and the child together, and mused upon this sweet mystery of mercy, did I repent in my heart for the many sharp words I had once given him; and for my many thoughtless and unfeeling smiles at his folly. I saw, however, by the very expression of his complacent eye, that I was fully forgiven. He had no hate, no malice, no memory for wrong; he was peaceful and gentle; and passed whole days, playing with a child. Kit too was now elevated to the