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In such a case there is no distinction ; till at last it vanishes entirely, and the if the master has none, the servant will deluded passenger often asks where is not give it to him ; for very few are the water he saw at no great distance; the instances where a man will volun- he can scarcely believe that he was so tarily lose his life to save that of anoth- deceived; he protests that he saw the er, particularly in a caravan in the waves running before the wind, and desert, where people are strangers to the reflection of the high rocks in the each other. What a situation for a water. If, unfortunately, any one fall man, though a rich one, perhaps the sick on the road, there is no alternative; owner of all the caravans! He is dying he must endure the fatigne of travelling for a cup of water—no one gives it to on a camel, which is troublesome even him-he offers all he possesses-no one to healthy people; or he must be left hears him—they are all dying—though behind on the sand, without any asby walking a few hours farther they sistance, and remain so till a slow might be saved ; the camels are lying death come to relieve him. What hordown, and cannot be made to rise—no ror! What a brutal proceeding to an one has strength to walk-only he that unfortunate sick man ! No one rehas a glass of that precious liquor lives mains with him, not even his old and to walk a mile farther, and perhaps faithful servant; no one will stay
and dies too. If the voyages on seas are die with him : all pity his fate, but no dangerous, so are those in the deserts : one will be his companion. Why not at sea the provisions very often fail ; in stop the whole caravan till he is better, the desert it is worse : at sea, storms or do what they can for the best, till he are met with; in the desert there can- dies ? No, this delay cannot be ; it not be a greater storm than to find a will put all in danger of perishing of dry well ; at sea, one meets with pi- thirst, if they do not reach the next rates—we escape-we surrender-we well in such a time: besides, they are die. In the desert they rob the travel- all different parties generally of merler of all his property and water ; they chants or travellers, who will not only let him live, perhaps, but what a life! refuse to put themselves in danger, but to die the most barbarous and agonizing will not even wait a few hours to save
In short, to be thirsty in a the life of an individual, whether they desert, without water, exposed to the know him or not.' burning sun, without shelter, and no To the parched and weary traveller, hopes of finding either, is the most ter- how vivid must be the recollections of rible situation that a man can be placed the comfortable home which he has in, and one of the greatest sufferings left (perhaps for ever,) and of those that a human being can sustain. The pleasant scenes of his childhood, when eyes grow inflamed, the tongue and life was like a running stream of translips swell; a hollow sound is heard in lucent water,--pure, fresh, and sparkthe ears, which brings on deafness, and ling! In such a monient as this, when the brain appears to grow thick and in- despair is painted in every counteflamed : all these feelings arise from nance, and · Death shakes his triumthe want of a little water. In the midst phant dart_6 shakes, but delays to of all this misery, the deceitful morasses strike,'—the mind would, probably, appear before the traveller at no great give vent to its feelings in lines like distance, something like a lake or river these :of clear fresh water. The deception of this phenomenon (the mirage) is well How dear to this heart are the scenes of my childhood known; but it does not fail to invite When fund recollectiou recals them to view the longing traveller towards that ele. The archard, ine meadow, the deep-tangled wild wood, ment, and to put him in remembrance The wide spreading pond, and the mill whiut, stoo
And every loved spot which my infaney knew ; of the happiness of being on such a
by it, spot. If, perchance, a traveller be not The bridge, and the rock where the cataract fell; undeceived, he hastens his pace to The cot of my father, the dairy-Imus nigh it, reach it sooner; the more he advances The vid oaken bucket, the iron-bound bucket,
And e'en the rude bocket which hung in the well; towards it, the more it goes from him,
The moss-covered bucket, which bung in the well.
That moss-covered vessel I hail as a treasure, This industrious insect, however, will
For often, at noon, when returned from the field, sometimes retaliate, and wreak a dreadI found it the source of an exquisite pleasure;
ful vengeance on his tyrant. In the The purest and sweetest that nature can yield. How ardent I seized it, with hands that were glowing, summer of 1821, as a merchant and
And quick to the white pebbled bottom it fell; his wife were proceeding, in an open
And dripping with coolness, it rose from the well; tenberg, they were attacked by a swarm
of bees, in such a cloud as to darken How sweet from the green-mossy brim to receive it, The merchant became seriously ill in
the air, which stung them dreadfully, As poised on the curb it inclined to my lips; Not a full blushing goblet could tempt me to leave it, consequence of the wounds he receiv
Though filled with the nectar that Jupiter sips. ed; but the lady in some measure esAnd now far removed from that loved situation,
caped by taking refuge in a wet ditch. The tear of regret will intrusively swell,
The coachman's life was for some As fancy reverts to my father's plantation, And sighs for the bucket that bangs in his well;
time despaired of; and the horses were The old oaken bucket, the iron-bound bucket, so severely stung, that they survived The moss-covered bucket, which hangs in the well, only an hour and a half.–See present
(These beautiful and appropriate lines are from an volume of the Atheneum, p. 252, for American pen.)
an account of an idiot boy, who lived The bee still pursues his ceaseless upon the honey which he sucked from task of collecting his varied sweets to the bee, having first disarmed it of the form honey for his destroyer, man. sting.
(English Magazines, June)
Straight my eye hath caught new pleasures,
peculiar character, that Englishmen are Russet lawns and fallows gray,
accustomed to from infancy, is the Where the nibbling flocks do stray,
standard by which they try all rural Mountains on whose barren breast
objects abroad, and creates a disposiThe lab'ring clouds do often rest,
tion in them to undervalue foreign Meadows trim with daisies pied, Shallow brooks and rivers wide.
scenery, when it may be far superior Towers and battlements it sees
to their own in the eye of taste. Some Bosomd bigh in tufted trees,
thing, nevertheless must be allowed for Where perhaps some beauty lies,
that tendency of mind which always The Cynosure of neighb'ring eyes. L'Allegro.
leads us to disparage present objects, IN N these beautiful lines Milton has compared with those which we hold in
accurately drawn the outline and remembrance. The memory, if it be character of English Landscape, or at sometimes deficient in calling up the least those striking features or'it which exact detail of absent images, never de may be styled national. He has given prives them of their coloring, but adds a most appropriate finish to the des- to their brilliancy and effect. The cription, by introducing a supposed portrait of an absent mistress in the beauty dwelling in the midst of the mind of her lover is always more beauembowered scene, thus heightening its tiful than she ever appeared to him in interest and attaching the heart to his the life. A thousand tender associapicture. The whole is the most happy tions, too, crowd thickly after one angeneral description of the same nature other, and confer upon things out of ever put together. The character of sight the same kind of superiority, that English rural scenery is different from the pictures of “ Auld Lang Syne” althat of other countries, and this forcibly ways possess over those which are beoccurs to the mind of the traveller ab- fore us at the moment. sent from England, when he is con But there is a charm in English trasting the view before him in a dis- scenery as much its characteristic as tant land with the “ trees and the the features, dress, and air of an Engtowers" of his native island, This lishman are peculiar to himself. There
is a snugness, a comfort, an agreeable The sober, snug appearance of Eng. circumspection in the look of the coun- lish retirements in the country is fatry dwellings of the gentry, and all but vourable to the developement of the the very lowest class, which has some- qualities of the heart; it is congenial to thing attractive and endearing in it, like thought and reflection, it tends to conthat which is implied in the epithet centrate our ideas and to throw us “ little,"* when used in kindness. back upon ourselves. It is painful to Close high-fenced fields surrounded by see the love of rural life losing ground trees, houses buried in shrubberies and among the better class of society, for groves, beautiful cattle feeding among we owed, and yet owe, much of the rich pasturages, and all in the smallest steadiness and simplicity of the Engspace, so that the eye can command lish character to its influence. A sethem together, take a hold on the af- cluded house and garden, buried in fections that an uninclosed country, trees, having a circumscribed field of large forests, and immense buildings, view, and producing an idea of recan never attain. We may admire the cluseness, is also the best situation for latter, but we cannot love them. The study. Let the individual who would idea of comfort which they afford is an think deeply place himself on the sumadditional tie to our regard, while the mit of a high hill, commanding an exsmiling fertility every where visible, tensive and varied prospect, a prodiarising from the depth of colour in the gality of luxuriant scenery being exverdure, kept fresh and fragrant, even tended beneath him, and let him think during the height of summer, by fre- intently, if he can, particularly in fine quent showers, and the endless variety weather, even though he be a matheof green in the foliage, is nowhere sur- matician. A dissipation of thought passed : masses of tufted trees rising must take hold of him in spite of himamid an ocean of luxuriant vegetation, self, and his ideas will require all his vast oaks stretching out their knotty exertion to keep them to their object. arms in the most picturesque forms; But how favourable to meditation are parks and plantations made without an our sequestered plantations and fields. appearance of art; an absence of rocks The high green hedges, well lined with and precipices and those objects which timber, and almost peculiar to our istNature always intermingles in her most and, divide the face of the country in a beautiful landscapes, making a marked very unpicturesque manner, but they difference between her own and Eng- inclose many natural gardens, many lish landscape of the kind I am describ- delicious spots isolated each from the ing. For though the latter may have other, carpetted with the softest vegeta. little show of art, yet it possesses a dis- tion, and seeming to be made for study tinct and definite character. To pice and gentle exercise at the same time. turesque scenery, strictly speaking, I From these the eye cannot stray away make no allusion, but confine myself to diverting objects all round the horito the social or highly cultivated. The zon, but may closely repose upon wild perpetual green of England is the flowers and cool verdure, while the charm of her natural beauty, like a “ thoughts are wandering through etersmiling expression upon the face of fe- nity.” Men of the most comprehensive male loveliness. Englishmen, from souls and commanding talents, those missing this grateful bue in the South who have dazzled the world by the of Europe under its intense summer splendour of their military achievesun, are always complaining of the ments, delighted it by immortal song, arid appearance of the country, forget- or instrucied it by science, have preting that spring, under those genial ferred circumscribed residences and siskies, answers to our summer, and that lent retreats. The excursions of the even winter is a season of mildness and mind have no sympathy with the arbeauty of which we have no notion in bitrary limits which covlive the body, England.
for they always expatiate over the
* Burke. Sublime and Beautiful, p. 126.
largest space while the body is inert; owes its most delightful charm to the and this is a strong argument against hand of the planter. The infinite vamaterialism. Men of the most sublime riety of irregular images constantly beconceptions have preferred small dwell- fore us, prevents our being fatigued by ings, for the body may be housed with the sameness of our secluded views, ease and comfort in a little space; but while the dark green water, deep and what human hands can erect a dwell- cool, refreshes and braces the mind, for ing commensurate with the unlimited green is the most exhilarating of colours. conceptions of genius ? Men of con- English landscape, in the rich and cultracted minds, therefore, prefer large tivated parts of the island, to which I habitations ; but those who are occu- now more particularly allude, consists pied with views truly great, are con- of little more than a succession of tented with giving the body all that is green fields and embowered babitareasonable. No schemes of ambition tions; yet the variety of these is endwere more vast, and few minds were less, and though the picture may posever formed on a scale more capacious, sess no strong features, and be of its than that of Bonaparte; yet he prefer- usual confined character, it always red his small abode at Malmaison to breathes a beautiful tranquillity, and the Thuilleries or Versailles : the latter, the sensation of a comfortable home, in indeed, he never deigned to inhabit. a way understood in no country but this. Just before he returned from Egypt, he One of the most delicious retreats of wrote to his brother Joseph—“ Secure the foregoing description that I have me a small house in the country, near ever seen, is Guy's Cliff, the residence Paris, or in Burgundy, where I hope to of Mr. Greatheed. The house is old, pass the winter.” The rooms at Mal- and has been built at different times; maison, his favourite residence, were but it appears to harmonize so well little, and bore no proportion to the with the wood and water around, that gigantic intellect of its inhabitant; and they all seem to have been created at yet he, no doubt, planned in them the the same moment. It has the most most daring of his schemes of future perfect character of peace and retire aggrandisement. Rousseau was remark- ment—of the “ lodge in some vast wilable for his love of secluded scenery in derness,” where “rumor of oppression the country, bis eloquent and delusive and deceit” can never reach us. There writings were generally composed in are, it is true, some circumstances consuch situations. But a thousand such nected with it, which enhance its inexamples might be cited from among terest. Tradition makes it the resithe sons of Genius.
dence of the famous Guy of Warwick, There is a tranquillity and a feeling and he is said to have been buried in a of security about some spots in Eng- cave near the house. It was at Guy's land which no native ever feels abroad. Cliff that, after having left his beautiful In such places, thought seems to mul- Phyllis to seek “hair-breadth 'scapes tiply thought, and all the stores of in- in th' imminent deadly breach"-alter téllect appear to come forth at our com- perforining a number of knight-errantmand. There is no crossing and jost- like adventures in Palestine, and conling among our ideas, but they arrange batting “ dun cows” and fiery dragons themselves spontaneously. What is so he put on the habit of a hermit, and delightful as the room that opens into a took up his residence in the cave sheen gardeu enclosed with dense foliage, from as his at the present day; his fair Phylwhich nothing of artificial life can be lis, residing all the time in Warwick scen, save the grey smoke rising per- Castle, no great way off, little dreaming pendicularly from some concealed cot- that ber liege lord was so near her. tage chimney? English rural scenery The love of Sir Guy seems to have is not artificial, as the term was once been thoroughly obedient to his sentiunderstood ;'we do not crop our yew ments of devotion, or else he imagined hedges into fantastical figures, or shape that the mortification and self denial he our box trees into dragons, at least in put upon himself in not returning to modern days, and yet it commonly the fair dame after the close of his peri
lous adventures, might give him a claim Speluncæ, vivique lacus; hic frigida Tempe, to a shorter residence in purgatory.
Mugitusque boum, molles que sub abore somni." However this might have been, when
The weather had been hot during he was expiring, he sent for his loving the day, and evening had arrived, when Phyllis, and making himself known to I turned down a short by-road, one her, she closed his dying eyes. The side of which was bounded by the wall walk by the cave is still called “Phyl- of the grounds, and the other by a lis's Walk.” This obscure, or it may quickset hedge, inclosing a flower garbe fabulous legend, produces an inter. den in full bloom and fragrance. A fine est, and breathes that hallowed charm piece of water soon opened upon my over the spot which is always expe- view on the right hand, which I crossrienced in contemplating a place con- ed by several rustic bridges, passing secrated to remembrance by traditiona. the front of a mill, where Camden rery lore.
We are content respecting ports that there has been one ever since such things to take leave of reason and the Conquest. The water was the matter of fact, if they either of them “ soft-flowing Avon,” which in this interfere with the faith, on which hangs place, owing to a fall of two or three the spell of our enjoyment and are feet, differed in some degree from its not most of our enjoyments erected usual placid appearance. It was no upon foundations as untenable? Honest longer smooth, glassy, dark from depth, old Rous, the antiquary, lived at Guy's and reflecting, in motionless beauty, Cliff; and the Queen of modern trage- the willows, rushes, and noble oaks, dy, the British Thalia, she who trod that ornamented its banks. On the the stage without a rival—who har- contrary, it was agitated and broken rowed up our souls in Lady Macbeth, into whirls and eddies, until it nearly and appeared, when personifying roy reached the house, about 400 yards off, alty, far superior in dignity to any thing where it resumed its mirror-like surwe have ever seen in royalty itself face, and glided along“ at its own for ber's was the poetry of acting, and sweet will,” without a ripple, like the accommodated the “ shows of things to current of time stealing silently into the desires of the mind,”—this lady was eternity.
Under the shade of some once an inhabitant of Guy's Cliff in a lofty trees, in a line with the front of humble capacity, from the shades of the house from which I was separated which she emerged “ to delight all by the river that almost washed the hearts and to charm all eyes."
walls, I Alung myself on the grass in It will hardly be thought fair, after pure idleness to enjoy the picture. No these observations, to cite Guy's Cliff breeze stirred a leaf ; a few white as a specimen of an English rural re- clouds were floating on the blue sky. treat, because a portion of our admira- Men like Dr. Johnson, or a citizen of tion might be attributed to associations, Cheapside, might have preferred the unconnected with situation and natural filth of Fleet-street, or the exhalations beauty. But those who have visited it, of Smithfield, but to me the first few unknowing the circumstances attached minutes in that situation were worth all to its history, have confessed its claims London, or a dozen Londons. The to attraction. My first visit to it was mind in similar cases becomes intoxion a fine summer evening, and it cated with delight, and for a time loses brought forcibly to my recollection, at all power of forming definite ideas : it the first glimpse of it, the lines of Vir- quaffs largely of the delicious draught gil :
which it does not taste until the first Hic secura quies, et nescia fallere vita,
cravings of its thirst are satisfied. It Dives opum variorum ; hic latis otia fundis,
is this intoxication of feeling--this ex
* Yet calm content, secure from guilty cares,
Yet home-felt pleasure, peace and rest are theirs ;