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Mother, dear mother! I long for your smile :

My offering, though simple, is sweet;

I followed the honey-bee home to its nest,
And stole from its treasures the richest and best,

To tempt you, dear mother, to eat.
" It was the time of roses :

Mother, dear mother ! O how can you sleep,
We pluck'd them as we pass’d."

When the sky is so bright and so blue?
T. Hoop. The merry birds call me to join in their song,

And I long to be sporting the lambkins among,

But am waiting, dear mother, for you. 'Twas summer, in those happy times 'Twas summer all day long;

Mother, dear mother ! your eyelids are wet, Each sound that left the laughing lips

I would wake you to share in my joy ; Was syllabled in song:

The sun is so cheering, so sparkling the dew, For love, when first it leaves the skies,

That all things around seem created anew :
On human hearts to light,

Then smile on your own loving boy.
With music fills both lips and eyes
Life's bloom before its blight.

Mother, dear mother ! how cold is your cheek!

You do not return my fond kiss. Oh! every scene was flowery then,

I grieve when in silence and sorrow you weep : The world a garden vast;

More sad is my heart at this long, cold sleep " It was the time of roses :

Shall you wake, dearest mother, in bliss ? We plucked them as we passed !" And Oh! the hand which clutched at them, Yes, yes, dearest mother ! no longer you'll smile Nor feared nor felt the thorn ;

On the desolate child of your love, No darkness was there in the night,

For whilst I was roaming lighthearted and gay, No shadow on the morn.

Your God has been with you, and borne you away

To his beautiful regions above.
The world was then no world to us,
Nor held it worldly things ;

Mother, dear mother ! yes, Death has been here ; 'Twas peace and rapture everywhere,

I know him, though silent his tread : Rich autumns and green springs :

Thou heedest me not, for thy spirit is flown, The human heart had no cold spot

And the sobs that I hear, O! they're only my own, Where colder thought could lurk,

For I'm standing alone with the dead.
The human breast suspected nought,
Nor knew doubt's deadly work.

Mother, dear mother ! Oh why didst thou go,

And leave me to sorrow alone ? Bright looks, sweet words, delicious hopes,

The world that so lately looked beaming and bright, Affections like to last ;

Is now like a wilderness, gloomy as night, " It was the time of roses :

And the breeze does but echo my moan.
We plucked them as we passed !"
But sleepers wake from sweetest dreams,

But I'll pray to that God thou hast taught me to love, And summer fades away;

And He will attend to my cries : Ice freezes first the freshest streams,

“ Have pity, dear Father, I'm friendless and lone And roses will decay.

O give to the orphan a shelter and home,

And be that dear home in the skies !"
And love's first light is far too bright

To shine for ever on ;
A cloud-another-more, still more-

And all its splendour's gone :
Now love is dead, and hearts are shut,

And hope is overcast ;
We have no time of roses :

POESY. Their harvest hour is past !



Mother, dear mother! awake, arise,

And blessings bestow on your child ;
The lark has been singing your birth-day song,
And I have been roaming the hedges among,

To gather these strawberries wild.
Mother, dear mother ! O listen to me,

I crept from your side at the dawn,
To cull you the flowers you love so well,
The violet sweet, and the pretty hare bell,
With a spray of the white-blossom'd thorn.

Say not " in green fields and on breezy hills

Poesy lives alone :" although perchance

There we perceive her with a quicker glance
Of apprehension, her bright presence fills
Creation, and throughout its bound instils

Into their hearts who love her, ecstasy :
Whether thy step be beside mountain rills,

Pressing the purple heather light and free,
Or among merchants on the noisy mart,

Or thou dost sail along the moaning sea,
Still from thy bosom she will not depart

If thou dost woo her meekly, cheerfully ;
In woe a solace, and through storms a guide,
Over the rudest waste, across the roughest tide.

Banks of the Yore.



“ Be check'd for silence, But never taxed for speech."


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The pen is continually moving on behalf of Taciturn folks may be divided into six classes, the talking members of the community, those which we will name as follows:- The sage, the tongue-warriors who make a stir in the world ignorant, the bashful, the cautious, the mysby their oratory. Their sayings and doings are terious, and the affected; and in order to the chronicled with eagerness; while, as regards more methodically treating of the subject, we silent people, it is as motionless as their own will introduce each class separately to the reader. organs of speech. Now, this is not quite as it First, then, should be. The utterance of opinions on a di- The sagely silent. These are the most disversity of matters, and conversation on various tinguished, as they are the most generally silent subjects, being the chief means whereby we are of all silent people. Where others bridle or enabled to judge the character of an individual, give rein to the tongue, according to the comthat of a great babbler is naturally laid open to pany they may be in, these are actuated by the the commonest observer, for no one who gives same motives on all occasions, whether assofull play to his tongue can long conceal his in- ciating with persons superior or inferior in rank ward self; on the other hand, the votaries of the to themselves. They will as readily attend to silent goddess wrap themselves up in such mys- the remark of an artisan as to the more elegantly. tery by the seal they set on their lips, that it is expressed sentiment of a titled mortal. Hear with difficulty we form a correct estimate of much, and say little,” is the motto they adopt, them. By appearance and physiognomy we and well do they act upon it; not that they are frequently are deceived; we are apt to set that unwilling to join in improving conversation, or man down a sage who is in reality a simpleton, to impart any knowledge they may possess. and vice versa. To assist us under these cir- Far from it ; but while they permit others to cumstances should rather, then, be the office of misemploy time in senseless gabble, they will the "grey goose-quill."

rather remain silently occupied in the endeavour “ Silent waters,

saith the proverb, “are to glean something from what they hear, than seldom shallow." This being as much as to introduce subjects more congenial to their own say that a silent person is scarcely ever found to taste, though unsuited to those around them, be a child of folly, cannot be considered correct. as many indiscreetly do, to make a vain and peLike a great many other brief sayings, handed dantic exhibition of learning. Indeed it is this down to us by our worthy ancestors, it has its quality of tranquil observation, this determinacross. Few there are but will admit that silence tion of storing useful knowledge, which forms is very generally employed as a cloak for igno- the main characteristic of the class, and their rance, that thousands of our fellows

distinguishing feature from all others. The “Only are reputed wise

sagely-silent are often set down as proud, superFor saying nothing."

cilious creatures, who fancy themselves (as they

really are) something above the common. This Other proverbs tell us that silence is the “ sanc. is an erroneous opinion, showing that its protuary of truth,” and “a cheap virtue.” To a mulgators possess but small acquaintance with certain extent it may be; but is it not sometimes their true nature. Arrogance is the last of their the abode of hypocrisy ? and can it be called a faults ; they do not pretend to more sense than virtue when the pronunciation of a word would has fallen to their share ; neither are they guilty confer a benefit ? Take the case of a being un- of despising one of their fellows. They are justly accused of a crime, and it is in the power likewise sneered at as book-worms who have of another to clear his character of the stain ; " studied themselves dumb.” Granted they surely a closed mouth is no virtue in this in- may be studious, yet not unsociable; on the stance.

contrary, they delight in any other useful emSilence springs from so many different mo- ployment of a passing hour, and with kindred tives, and is so various in quration and occur- spirits are as unreserved as the veriest tittlerence, that it is unwise to deem it a good or bad tattle retailer could wish. Time they hold too quality: only by noticing the other characteristics valuable to be squandered away, and hence their of a man shall we be justified in pronouncing dislike to the childish frivolities in which the it virtuous or otherwise.

generality indulge. For these reasons a sagely silent man is seldom a favourite with the other The bashfully silent.-Thoughtful and thoughtmembers of society, being frequently left to less, learned and ignorant, old and yourg plod on, unnoticed and unknown, along the path people, are to be met with in this class, whose he has chosen. However, this is no source of taciturnity springs less from inclination than discontent to him; he owns a well-spring within, from the want of common assurance to express of which no one can rob him, and for the loss their ideas. After the capability of forming of which the fullest measure of public applause sound and just opinions, may be ranked the could not compensate

power of making them distinctly and forcibly

understood by others. In fact, it is this latter “Pleasures deep, and tried, and true, Whether to read or write, to think or hear,

quality which renders the former of so great By the gross million spurned,"

value to the possessor. Bashfully silent gentry

never possess the two in union, if they can lay are his, and in their enjoyment he doubtless claim to either. To be partially timorous of feels more true happiness than those ever can speech has always been considered an advantage who are continually floating about on the decep- rather than a drawback to an orator, since it tire waves of society in search of amusements, excites sympathy in the mind of a hearer far which, owing their charms to novelty, lose all more than zest when that departs. We will pass now to

" The rattling tongue The ignorantly silent, who are not seldom Of saucy and audacious eloquence ; mistaken by the partial observer for those of whom we have just spoken. How widely.op: l instead of commiseration is engendered : this

but to be overmodest is ridiculous-contempt posed are they found on a close inspection! The contrast is at once evidenced by the fact

excess of timidity seems in their case a constithat the members of this class are dumb where tutional failing. And another cause of silence the others are more likely to be talkative, and with them is the fear of contradiction; for given to gabble away on subjects which' their should they be so bold as to give utterance to a sager brothers would despise. "Ignorantly silent sentiment, and another immediately confutes it, people are willing enough to set their tongues had previously summoned up to aid their

they at once yield the point. The courage they clacking in circles where they imagine their ignorance will pass unnoticed, and on matters tongues now oozes rapidly out at their fingers' of which they have acquired some slight ink- ends, like that of " fighting Bob Acres.” Were ling; but when matters, not dreamt of in their

a hundred false statements made in their hearphilosophy, are brought forward, the wicket of ing, and which their own sense and information their lips remains closed, and thus they effectu- inform them to be such, instead of offering one ally conceal

syllable of correction, they will allow the foolish

fellow to have his say, convicting themselves of “A shallow brain behind a serious mask." ignorance. It does not follow that such cha

racters are necessarily cowards, or in anywise This silence would be truly meritorious if they deficient in manly courage. This may appear would avail themselves of the opportunity thus strange: nevertheless it is quite as true as that offered of gaining information. But, no; at the most arrant poltroons are frequently the tention is a faculty they will not exert ; they are most blustering talkers. Nervousness when adonly sedate, and never make an effort to enlarge dressed, and a hesitating method of speaking, their minds by opening their ears. Here is are their chief characteristics. They may be another important distinction between them and easily recognised, and are commonly known by the sagely silent class : while the latter are con- the name of “ shy creatures." tinually spurred by a noble desire of extending The cautiously silent now claim our attention. their stock of knowledge, the former rest as it These may be considered distant relations of the were contented in ignorance. If learning is not sager body of men occupying the first place in to be acquired without an expenditure of time these remarks, since they bear a striking reand trouble, time and trouble thus bestowed semblance in their discreet and unostentatious they consider so much wasted. The gain, in manner; but as they do not propose to themtheir

eyes, is unworthy of the pursuit, so paltry selves the same praiseworthy end in their silence is their valuation of knowledge. Hence their viz., the cultivation of the understanding—they minds receive a degree of sloth, not naturally cannot of course be numbered in the same cabelonging to them; and while the higher powers tegory. Still we must bestow on them qualified "first in them unused,” we see these very per- commendation, for though discretion may be sonages eager enough following after riches, sometimes carried to too great a length, how leaving not a stone unturned to increase their much better is it to be considerate and careful golden hoard. It has been justly remarked, that in the remarks we make and opinions we give, ambition is implanted in all of us, and will make than to pronounce them in the positive and its

appearance in some shape or other, according hasty manner of the ignorant. “A fool,” said to circumstances. Verily, then, the ambition the wise monarch of old, “uttereth all his of the ignorantly silent is of a poor, pitiful de- mind; the man keepeth till terscription, the fruit of a spirit of which they wards." * have small reason to be proud.—Next in our

* Proverbs, chap. xxix. v. 1},

list come

The first business of a cautiously silent man,

“No: what? Tell me, pray? anything of when he finds himself mingling among strangers, moment?" is to discover, as far as lies in his power, the “Oh, that's as you may think,” replies Mr. occupation, rank, and prevailing turn of mind Mysterious Silly. “However,” he adds, “perof each around him. This, from constant habit, he haps I had better not tell you,” and then he is quickly enabled to do. He then regulates the walks away, or changes the subject; leaving his motions of his own tongue accordingly, taking hearer in a very uneasy state of mind, lest any, the utmost pains not to express a sentiment thing of an evil nature had befallen his friend. likely to displease the hearer or involve himself. At length a more charitable mortal acquaints Delighting not in scandal, he seldom repeats the him with the facts of that to which the other backbiting observations he is compelled to hear; alluded ; and instead of its being, as his fancy but careful as he may thus seem of another's had depicted, some severe loss or illness Lreputation, it is respect for his own that solely had undergone, it turns out to be a trivial cirinfluences his conduct. Unlike the sagely silent, cumstance of which he had received prior inhe will not deny a foul aspersion of character, formation. if such denial would lead him into controversy. Anything of real importance mysteriously Enough for him that he is not concerned in the silent men are as eager to communicate as gossip : so long as his own merits for honesty another. Whether they think it sagacious to and caution pass unsullied, the reputation of a act thus or not, every sensible person will tell fellow may be ruined by “viperous slander.” them that such conduct is only that of a simple

Cautiously taciturn persons we cannot well ton. But we must not be too harsh in our fathom. They may be virtuous, they may be censure, or we shall have none left for the other artful and vicious ; their real dispositions are so kind who are in truth more richly deserving hidden that we scarcely know whether to con- of it. sider them good or evil dwellers in the world. As among the sagely silent are to be found For aught we are aware of, they may be cul- some of the most honourable of our species, so pable of that in secret which their public he: among the maliciously mysterious we meet with

. outside,” we are told, and such may be their friendship, spotless reputation, fairest virtue, case : their discretion, perchance, is cunning; each has been ruined by them; and how do they their silence hypocrisy; and as the few sentences affect it? Not by gossiping or open tale-bearthey utter are always in accordance with what ing, but by sly hints and crafty insinuations, another has previously spoken, they may be which carry conviction more quickly than a continually falsifying their own individual opin- circumstantially fabricated story. The imaginaions. Without a doubt, they are not the per- tion is always ready to fill up the outline they sons any one would select as a very particular cunningly draw with inuendoes. For they are friend, notwithstanding their taciturnity, which but partially taciturn; a silence, however, which is an admitted desideratum. The flame of is eloquence itself, baneful, alas ! in its consefriendship must burn dimly, if there be not quences, and injurious to the best interests of open-heartedness on both sides; and this the society. Pretending unwillingness to utter their class under consideration cannot be said to pos- knowings, and a profound respect for others, sess. From the habitual restraint they impose they present such a mixture of candour and on their tongue, it is impossible for them to simplicity, we are half inclined to consider them speak freely and candidly, even to their most anxious to hide the faults they see than to give intimate companions. But we must leave our them publicity. Sheep outside and wolves readers to pass their judgment on them and within, it is their delight to render another their motives, and say a few words on

despicable in the eye of the world, and the The mysteriously silent.--Of these there are the happier he was in himself, so much greater

higher character that other previously bore, two kinds that may be designated the silly and is their triumph in his downfal. But enough the malicious. Specimens of the former are numerous; they are those absurd people who pretend words of introduction to the last of the six

of these wretches; we will now write a few to be the possessors of great secrets, which they classes, viz.long to unfold, but dare not, as though life and death were involved in the matter. These haughty in their natures, these puffed up crea;

The affectedly silent. - Supercilious and secrets generally prove of small account, or

tures consider their voices too sweet to be heard things that every one else has long been aware of. Many a hearty laugh has been raised at tion to talk to persons moving in the humbler

by the promiscuous crowd, that it is a degradatheir expense; yet their foolish, mysterious behaviour has been known to cause serious dis walks of life. Poor worms! they forget that no quietude.

pride is so ill-founded and contemptuous as “ Have you heard what has happened to your deem beneath their notice, the reply is a sneer;

pride of birth. Address them on subjects they friend L- ?” observes one of these dolts to a

as much as to say—“Talk not to me on such timid wight.

frivolous affairs." "If spoken to on matters of - is a friend travelling abroad : the person deeper import, the same sneer greets you, as addressed is naturally anxious to know, and so much as to say—“I know all about it; but it exclaims

is not worth my while answering impertinent



people.” The truth is, this sneer is an inge

SONNET. nious piece of mechanism they have invented, serving to conceal ignorance and learning alike;

(Summer.) and the affectation that gives it birth is sufficiently evinced by the alacrity with which they court conversation with members of the higher Passionate Summer! thou art with us now, circles.

When the gay noontide sheds its golden gleams, There is a class of affectedly silent beings We see thee glancing o'er the ceaseless streams: who may be named "the obstinate ;” a morose The crown of power on thy haughty brow. and unsociable race, as unwilling to listen to o regal queen! well hast thou kept thy vow, the outpourings of another's mind as to lay

To follow where the wild sun flings his beams, bare their own; for what reason we cannot Bending with beauty every emerald bough,

Startling the meek buds from their mystic dreams; discern. It may be traced sometimes to a defect Flingest thou far and wide the sighing larches, of temper, and perhaps often originates in some Till they acknowledge reverently thy sway : early discovery of treachery in a friend-than Pacest thou softly through the moonlit arches, which nothing is more likely to produce mis- Modest and tender, till upwakes the day ; anthropy and distrust. Members of this class But the stern year, that all too swiftly marches, are few and far between; nevertheless, more Will snatch our favourite from our gaze away. plentiful than there is necessity for the general welfare of the community.

In concluding these our remarks on the subject before us, it will be proper to advise our THE SONG OF THE PEARL DIVER. readers that they must not expect every silent person they may meet to possess all the characteristics here allotted to each class. In some he may be wanting, and others he may have, Down, down where the shipwrecked lies low in his peculiar to himself. The sagely silent man will With o'er head the wild chaunt of the bound-spurnnow and then partake slightly of the cautious,

ing wave, the cautious of the mysterious, the mysterious Where alone is my footstep 'mid coral and shell, of the ignorant, and so on; still they will be And jewels that lighten up beauty right well, found the leading features, and as such are Where kings dare not tread 'mid the deep-hidden above set forth.

gem, I go, in my hoard seeking riches for them, Not for me the pale treasure, not mine is earth's

pride :

The Diver's so hardly-earned fame! what beside ? YE FEATHER'D SONGSTERS, CEASE How much of the peace we must purchase with gold

Repays the poor man hours of anguish untold ? THAT STRAIN.

Away! scenes of grandeur! for me rise ye not :

I have wealth, as ye pride-wealth that perisheth not ; Air-" Ye banks and braes o' bonny Doon." Ye have fortune's warm friends, and to me it is given

To stand with my Maker alone, before Heaven. Ye feather'd songsters ! cease that strain, Oh! ye mighty of earth, 'neath your proud gilded Nor sweetly wound a bursting heart;

dome, Your gladdest notes give greatest pain,

Read ye e'er of God's might as in my gem-decked The sad alone some joy impart.

home? For one I miss—the sweetest far

Count ye wealth as the evidence sole of His pow'r ? Amid that merry, thrilling lay;

There are traces more true in the wild mountain Your richest notes sad discord are,

flow'r. To that fond voice of happier day.

It hath proofs in the wave, that with foam-crested

head Ye fragrant flowers ! pray droop awhile,

Bears the living above where lies scattered the dead ;

It hath proofs in the gem I can bring from the grave And mourn for one who loved ye well; Nor o'er her grave in triumph smile,

Of the child or the friend whom your wealth could

not save! Nor scented buds in mockery swell ; For she is gone, who with such care,

Wreathe your brow, man of pride, with Fame's Did nurse your tender budding leaves ;

gold-tinted flow'rs, That kindly hand 's no longer there :

But beware lest they fade in fate's oft falling show'rs!

For me twines no laurel ; on me bends no eye, Then grieve, yea, as her lover grieves.

Save that one which 'mid danger seems ever most

nigh Ye scorching sun ! now cease to shine ;

You have fortune's warm friends, and to me it is No longer warm this lonely heart;

given Thy rays to tears and grief resign,

To stand with my Maker alone before Heaven ! That, weeping, from this world I part. Ye heavenly waters! constant flow In endless, never ceasing flood; Yea, all things here in nature show

All sorrow that has not in it the sting of remorse The loss of one so fair and good.

is to be borne patiently, and may be cured perhaps w at last.

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