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thoughts to few; and that at the utmost they are only guessed at or suspected by Prince Schwarzenberg and M. de Manteuffel, who, to avoid leading others into error, have not communicated their conjectures to their most intimate friends.

It seems to be beyond doubt, however, that two important matters will be discussed in the councils of these sovereigns; and this, because they are precisely the same that at this moment occupy the attention of all Europe-the situation of Germany and that of France. So much is ascertained as to lead us to believe that the Emperor of Russia will manifest, in the councils referred to, the firm, irrevocable will to repress and vanquish the efforts of the revolutionary party-to combat the revolutionary spirit wherever it may penetrate or attempt to show itself to follow it up under all its disguises and forms-to drive it from continental Europe, if England will not associate itself in the crusadeand from all Europe, if England affords its coöperation to the continental powers. Whatever decisions may be come to at Warsaw or at Olmutz, they will assuredly be inspired by this determination of the Emperor Nicholas, who believes himself destined to that special mission. The emperor has more than once avowed that, the struggle being now so rife between the revolution and the conservative principles of social order, it is no longer safe or possible to recall, or even to employ, halfmeasures. It is his firm conviction that society must carry off a complete triumph in that struggle, unless it consent to perish within a very brief period.

executive military power, will be easily and before long concluded, but under the protection of the Emperor of Russia.

A third consequence of the return of the Diet of Frankfort is the change in the mode of deliberation for the Assemblies of the Diet established by the constitutional acts of the 8th of June, 1815, and the 5th of March, 1820. In virtue of these acts, whenever the question arose of a modification in the fundamental laws of the Germanic Confederation, or in its organic institutions, unanimity of opinion was necessary for the validity of the deliberations, and the opposition of the smallest of the States of the Confederation sufficed to put a stop to the resolution adopted by all the others. The events of the last year in Germany have shown the inconvenience and the dangers of such a system. They are admitted both by Austria and by Prussia, and these powers are now agreed on the necessity of a reform on that head. That reform will be the object of the first resolutions of the Diet, and there is every reason to believe that henceforth a certain majority will be substituted for the unanimity of votes.

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A fourth consequence will be the admission into the Confederation of Prussia, and, especially, of Austria, with all their States. This question is not new to Germany. Austria puts forward her pretensions from the 13th of March, 1850, at the very moment of her adhesion to the convocation of Munich; it was one of the conditions of that adhesion. These pretensions passed at the time without notice, as they encountered no opposition. So far as Germany alone is concerned, the diffi- was not long without receiving the approbation of culties of her situation have become diminished; the cabinet of St. Petersburg, which, in a despatch and it is probable that the intervention of the czar dated the 15th of July, 1850, gave a formal conwill hasten the definitive solution of the points that sent to the measure. Since then the protests of are still under discussion. The Dresden Confer- England and France have been communicated, but ences have been brought to a close; the return of it is not believed that these protests will prevent Prussia to the Diet of Frankfort is at once the con- the realization of the designs of Austria. It was demnation of the revolutionary movement of 1818, recently said in Germany, and believed in Paris, already put down in Germany, and the restoration that the Russian cabinet had withdrawn that conof the Germanic Constitution of 1815. This is a sent. The contrary is now affirmed. Perhaps great advance, and it will have several important that cabinet had suggested or admitted a short consequences. The first is, the indefinite adjourn- adjournment as better than an immediate decision ment of the project for the establishment of a grand of the question, out of deference to France and national Parliament to overrule the Central Power England, but it is asserted that no greater conof the Germanic Confederation. That project, cession was made; and it is not expected that it which, however, has powerful support in Ger- will embarrass Austria or arrest her progress. At many, and which had been received at Dresden all events, it would appear that in Germany the with a certain degree of favor, has not been ap- incorporation of all the possessions of Austria and proved by the Emperor of Russia, who has re- of Prussia in the Confederation is considered as mained uninfluenced by the arguments of personages certain and proximate. for whom he otherwise professes much deference. It was in vain he was informed that the courts of Dresden, Munich and Stuttgard had entered into formal engagements on the question in their convention of the 27th of February, 1850; that each of the kings had renewed the engagement to his own people, and that Austria had similarly pledged herself by the approval of that convention in her declaration of the 13th of March. The Emperor Nicholas was inflexible, and it may be presumed that for a long time to come the question will not be mooted.

The second consequence is relative to the presidency of the Diet, which is yielded to Austria, and to which Prussia can only pretend in virtue of a concession to which Austria might not object, but for which Prussia should pay a high price. There is every reason to suppose that the arrangement on this point, which will comprise the constitution of a grand system of custom-houses, and of a central

From the Examiner.

MR. THACKERAY'S FIFTH LECTURE COMPRISED Sketches of FIELDING and SMOLLETT, and of the only pictorial "Humorist" who has been admitted into the series-HOGARTH.

While novels are written, the lecturer began, they will always seek to please the popular taste, by adhering to a general outline of plot, as stereotyped as that of a pantomime. There will always be an exceedingly good man, and an exceedingly bad one; and also an amiable and exemplary beauty, who, beloved by the first, and pursued by the second, is exposed to all sorts of dangers, either physical or moral, until, at the close, vice is dreadfully discomfited, and virtue signally rewarded. This is the novel for the ladies. Tales of another genre, with second meanings, and an undercurrent of satire, delight them not. For exam

ple, there is the mordaunt history of Jonathan | Sir Walter Scott-noble-minded, poor, enduring, Wild, the Great. In this work, Fielding has had gallant, and ultimately successful from readiness the courage to take one of the greatest rascals, and perseverance. Mr. Thackeray alluded to Smolcowards, traitors, tyrants, and hypocrites, that ever lett's having done justice, in his History, to charexisted, make him the hero of his story, attend acters with whom he had been personally in broil him through all his career with a grinning defer- and battle; and, in reference to his literary achieveence, and only take leave of him, with a parting ments, declared that " Humphrey Clinker" was bow, when the hero's carcass is swinging upon the most laughable story which had ever been the gallows. But few ladies like Jonathan Wild. written. Not such a satirist and censor was HOGARTH. His works are popular parables. Their moral is told with a plainness that leaves nothing to the second thought. They all breathe the spirit of the old story books. Charley was a good boy, and everybody liked him, and gave him money, and he became a rich man, and rode in a gilded coach; while Billy was a bad boy, and everybody hated him, and he was whipped by his master, and at last he rode in a cart to be hanged at Tyburn. Hogarth's moral to a story was written in a very large hand. In those days moralists had no compunction whatever. They liked to hang a thief. They gloried in recording that crime met its reward on the gibbet. Hanging, indeed, was the recognized specific, not only with authors but with all respectable persons, for guilt. Masters sent their apprentices, parents took their children, to see Jack Sheppard, and Jonathan Wild hung up.

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The lecturer, alluding to Hogarth's pictures, went into a lively and minute description of all his principal works, "word painting" with a skill worthy of the artist he was dealing with. Marriage à la Mode he spoke of as the series containing Hogarth's most carefully elaborated moral, but he also described the Rake's Progress, Industry and Idleness, and many of the single pictures, as those of Wilkes, and of Lovat, and of Churchill. In all the stories, he remarked, there was the one great lesson, that " Bogy was always certain of having wicked people at last. A sort of interlocutory description of some scenes in the London of Hogarth's time-a lord mayor's procession and a criminal's passing to Tyburn-brought in a cleverly done contrast-picture of the Tyburnia, (the most "respectable" place in all the world,) and of the St. Martin's-le-Grand of the present time, somewhat in the vein of Mr. Macaulay's celebrated chapter in his history. Doing justice to the historical value of Hogarth's pictures and referring to the fact that he (like Liston) fancied himself great in serious business, and spoke contemptuously of the Caracci and Corregio, offering "to paint against 'em for a hundred guineas," he said that no man was ever less a hero. He was a jolly cockney, who loved his lass and his glass, and hated the French. The lecturer alluded to the immortal journey in (1732) from the Bedford Arms to Rochester and Sheerness, as one of the "jolliest" trips ever performed, and remarked upon the self-complaisant air of the artist, who declared at the close of his life that he felt great pleasure in thinking that he had never wilfully injured even an enemy.

With SMOLLETT he made rather short work, but gave all credit to the veteran, who had fought his way through great difficulties, for his kindliness and hospitality towards his less stalwart brethren, and described him as one of those gallant Scottish cadets who have been so admirably depicted by

With Mr. Thackeray, HENRY FIELDING is obviously no small favorite. He dwelt with much unction upon his manly, noble-looking figure, his dauntless courage, his wit, and his many lovable qualities; and he interceded for him with an urgency which he refused to extend to Congreve. He admitted that he could not make a hero of him, that he got into debt, drank, and did other sad things, and had low tastes, but not a mean mind. But he liked virtuous men, honored female innocence, had an eye that flashed on a rogue like a policeman's lantern, did his duty, was adored by his family, and died at his work. He could not erect a statue to him in marble, with a toga, but preferred to show him in inky ruffles and with wine stains on his linen.

Tom Jones, however, Mr. Thackeray had something to say against-we mean against the man, and not against one of the most wonderful books ever written. But the author had so fallen in love with his big-calved, broad-backed, dashing, gallant, blackguard of a hero, that he was blind to his faults. Sophia gave in much too soon, and Tom ought to have received much more punishment. Booth was better; inasmuch as he showed more signs of repentance, and was to be forgiven for the sake of the darling Amelia, a character to have created which was not only a literary triumph, but a good action. As for Joseph Andrews, there could be no doubt that Fielding felt an honest and hearty contempt for the puny Cockney bookseller, whose chaste maiden, Pamela, Fielding proposed to ridicule by creating the imaginary character of a chaste footman, Joseph. But he soon lost sight of this caricature, fell in love with his own creations, and wrote a charming book instead of a satire. Mr. Thackeray referred to Gibbon's fine eulogy of Fielding, and observed that to be praised by such a man as Gibbon was like having one's name written up in the dome of St. Peter's. After an eloquent tribute to the power of Fielding's genius in creating a series of characters with every one of which we are as familiar as if we knew them personally, and were to meet them presently in the park, he concluded by comparing the man's gallant nature to that of one of those noble seacaptains we read of in old books, whose enduring heroism bids them cheer their crew and work their ship to the very last, and then, when all is lost, go down with the good vessel to which they had clung to the last.

We need not remark upon the mode in which the lecture was received by an appreciating auditory. We may mention, however, that the hour of commencement having been altered, some disappointment was occasioned to subscribers who had not noticed the announcement of the alteration, and who arrived at the close. The concluding lecture, on Thursday next, (on STERNE and GOLDSMITH,) will commence at three o'clock.

NEW BOOKS AND REPRINTS.

[AN unusually long absence from home has caused considerable arrearage in this department, which we are now compelled to attend to more slightly than we like.]

Treatise on Political Economy, by George Opdyke. Para; or Scenes and Adventures on the Banks of the Amazon. By John Esaias Warren.

Romance Dust from the Historic Placer. By Dr. Mayo.

Trenton Falls, Picturesque and Descriptive. Edited by N. Parker Willis. With many illustrations. Alhambra. This completes the "Author's Revised Edition," " of the works of Washington Irving, in 15

From Messrs. Harper & Brothers we have a goodly handsome duodecimos.

and various collection:

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The Philosophy of Mathematics; translated from the Cours de Philosophie Positive of Augustus Covete, by Wm. Gillespie.

Louisiana; its Colonial History and Romance. By Charles Gayarre. This is a handsome octavo volume, and the title is very attractive.

Cosmos; a Sketch of a Physical Description of the Universe. By Alex. Von Humboldt. Vol. 3.

Not so bad as we Seem. By Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton.

Eastbury. A Tale. By Anna Harriet Drury. Curran and his Contemporaries. By Charles Phillips, Esq.

Yeast a Problem. By the Rev. Mr. Kingsley, author of Alton Locke.

Schmitz's History of Greece. A Manual, principally made up from Bishop Thirlwall's History.

The Harmony of Prophecy; or Scriptural Illustrations of the Apocalypse. By the Rev. Alexander Keith, D.D.

Caleb Field; a Tale of the Puritans, and a very good one.

Nature and Blessedness of Christian Purity. By the Rev. R. S. Foster.

Autobiography and Memorials of Captain Obadiah Congar. By the Rev. Henry T. Cheever.

The Irish Confederates, and the Rebellion of 1798. By Henry M. Field.

Mount Hope; or Philip, King of the Wampanoags: an Historical Romance, by G. H. Hollistar.

History of Cleopatra. By Jacob Abbott.

History of the Empress Josephine. By the same. The Heir of Wast-Wayland. By Mary Howitt. Dealings with the Inquisition. By Dr. Achilli. The Wife's Sister; or the Forbidden Marriage. Travels in the United States, by Lady Wortley. This has been favorably reviewed in former numbers. Godfrey Malvern; or the Life of an Author; by Thomas Miller, author of a Day in the Woods, &c.,

with 24 illustrations.

London Labor and the London Poor. Part 8.

From G. P. Putnam, whose publications are always good:

Wing and Wing; The Two Admirals; The Water Witch. These are three volumes of the "Choice Works of J. Fenimore Cooper," which are now completed in 12 thick duodecimo volumes, handsomely printed and bound.

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Phillips, Sampson & Co., continue their handsome edition of Shakspeare, the numbers containing each a play. We have Lear, Romeo and Juliet, Hamlet, Othello. Nos. 39 and 40 are the first Part of his Poetical Works, to be completed in two more Parts.

Report of the Commissioner of Patents. Part 2. Agriculture.

Report on the Poor and Insane in Rhode Island. By Thomas R. Hazard.

Elements of Instruction concerning the Church. For young persons. By Charles Wordsworth, D.D. Edited and enlarged by Hugh Darcy Evans. H. Hooker, Philadelphia.

Browning. C. S. Francis & Co., N. Y.
Prometheus Bound, and other Poems. By Eliz. B.

Pocket Companion for Machinists, Mechanics and Engineers. By Oliver Byrne. Dewitt & Davenport, N. Y. This book, in a convenient shape, supplies a vast mass of practical information.

The Age of Sin, or Hints for Critics. Lindsay & Blakiston, Philad.

Poems, by Mrs. E. H. Evans. Lippincott, Grambo This book is handsomely printed, & Co., Philad. and is introduced to the reader by the Rev. Thomas H. Stockton, the brother of the author. It comes of a poetical family, and is thus noticed by the North American newspaper: :

"This little volume furnishes many proofs that its author possesses the true poetical faculty, and that she knows how to clothe the imaginings of a gifted Spirit with the graceful and vigorous language of a cultivated woman. those of a domestic character-are exquisitely tender; Some of the poems-particularly and all are imbued with a feeling of genuine devotion. We commend the book earnestly to public favor."

Meg and Alice, Tale V., and Isabella, Tale VI., of
Shakspeare's Heroines. By Mary Cowden Clarke.
Conquest of Florida by Hernando de Soto. By Theo-edited by R. S. Houghton, M. D. Fowler & Wells,
dore Irving, M. A.

Bulwer and Forbes on the Cold Water Treatment;

New York.

The LIVING AGE is published every Saturday, by E. LITTELL & Co., at the corner of Tremont and Bromfield Streets, Boston. Price 12 cents a number, or six dollars a year in advance. Remittances for any period will be thankfully received and promptly attended to.

LITTELL'S LIVING AGE.-No. 379.-23 AUGUST, 1851.

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THE biographical sketch, which will constitute to many the chief interest of the present volumes, must have been attended in its composition by more than the ordinary train of doubts and difficulties which at all times beset the biographer, especially when connected by near ties with his subject. The conflicting claims of uncompromising truth and filial or fraternal piety, which must now and then clash when the best of men is the object of inquiry, cannot fail to cause many a delicate dilemma, and cost the conscience some struggles; but commonly these are reconciled either by a prevailing conviction of the excellence of the character under review, which admits of candor in detail, or by a convenient laxity of principles in the writer, which obscures the sharp distinctions of right and wrong, and leaves him at liberty to slur over, to excuse, or to justify, as the case may be, every error the course of his narrative obliges him to touch upon. Neither of these alternatives facilitate the task in the present instance. The biographer, both in his personal and official character, is duly sworn to maintain the highest standard of faith and practice, nor shrinks from the requirements of a high profession; while his subject, so near to him in blood and affection, possessing so many claims to his sympathy and admiration, was nevertheless even notorious for his habitual breach of one of the simplest and most elementary moral restraints, giving himself up an almost unresisting victim to the most degrading form of excess. In fact, this very notoriety, at first sight so strong an argument against such an undertaking, may have been a leading motive for the brother's assumption of the office of memorialist. All men knew wherein lay the weakness of this erring genius, but all men did not know his strength. There were redeeming points which strangers could not have supposed compatible with his form of error-a remarkable idiosyncrasy to be delineated, which seemed to remove his faults from the more vulgar form of degradation by a touch of eccentricity; and for the biographer himself, we cannot be mistaken in supposing that there was the instinct of family feeling to be relieved in setting forth the extraordinary array of intellectual gifts and powers, which, though rendered of small practical benefit to their possessor, could not be obscured or lose their charm under the most adverse influences; which, if they could not sustain him in their own elevation, at least gilded his fall, and seemed to set him distinct and apart from the common herd. In a certain sense it is clear that Hartley Coleridge's friends could not help, not only loving him, but being proud of him. Not that this natural sentiment-for natural it is that men should always be proud of intellectual power in those belonging to them-has led to any results we need complain of. The brother has performed his task honestly as well as lovingly, with true feeling and delicacy, and yet with no desire to extenuate the guilt itself. A perfectly impartial hand would VOL. XXX. 22

CCCLXXIX.

LIVING AGE.

probably have given the unhappy propensity a greater prominence in the narrative, but the rapid the ear of each reader-which we have instead, confession once for all-whispered as it were in has perhaps as great a moral influence. It will be felt that a brother, however stern a moralist, may well excuse himself from any lengthened protest against a vice which all men agree to condemn. Fraternal affection places him in the position of an apologist; the moral aspect of the question being understood, his sense of the abstract guilt of habits of intemperance being taken for granted, he has to make the best case he can in the individual instance of which he has to treat. There can be no possible objection to this. We are all so far in the position of the biographer; charity requires us to think the best we can of the sinner, while we abhor the sin; only this general rule includes a wide range, and does not allow us to indulge in choice and selection; it carries us beyond the eccentric genius who seems to have two distinct beings, the lofty and the degraded; the first being the one on whom our thoughts involuntarily rest; and includes the poor unfortunate to whom low propensities are more natural, whose reasoning powers are feeble, who has no capability for merely intellectual gratifications, who, if he has sunk deep, at least has known no pure philosophic heights of thought to teach him contempt for earth-born pleasures. And this we say for our own instruction and remembrance as well as for that of others for unquestionably the unfortunate subject of the present memoir did possess so many attractions-the picture given is in many points so engaging, he seemed in a sense so separate from the vice that enslaved him, was in man's eyes so little contaminated by it-he was, in fact, so interesting, that the temptation is strong to make an exception in his favor, to judge him by a different law, to make excuses for him on the ground of certain constitutional peculiarities, without reckoning the counterbalancing advantages which his lot embraced; so that there is danger of the sin itself a little receding from our view, insensibly changing from a crime into a misfortune, under the influence of mingled sympathy with his turn of thought, admiration for his talents, pity for his continual remorse, and respect for the unaffected religious feelings which his writings display.

With the safeguard of such precautions we feel that a debt is owing to Mr. Coleridge for not having shrunk from a painful and difficult task. Not only have we a more than commonly interesting memoir, but one more than commonly instructive and suggestive. Richardson's heroine, towards the end of her career, confesses that in her early youth she had proudly hoped to be an example to her sex, but finds at its close that her real use and purpose has been a warning; and it is as a warning that Hartley Coleridge must take his place in our minds-that the thought of him may act as a check to ambitious hopes from youthful promise, as an evidence of the powerlessness of mere intellectual gifts to enable their possessor to sustain any moral elevation, as a proof how unavailing for selfgovernment are mere thoughts of religion which do not grow at once into acts.

What propitious genius could shower down a His childhood proved to the highest degree susgreater confluence of gifts and influences than ceptible of such influences: as his brother saysseemed to surround this child of promise? A "By nature as well as circumstances he was the father whose rare depth of thought was equalled poet-child of a poet-father." The first anecdote of only by his matchless powers of expression-the his conscious babyhood does justice to his high eloquent philosopher pouring out benedictions on lineage. When he was first taken to London, his first-born-that father's friend the poet of the being then a child in arms, and saw the lamps, he age, and a poet for all ages, drawing inspiration from exclaimed, "Oh! now I know what the stars are; the wonderful child, and giving it back in proph- they are lamps that have been good upon earth, and ecy; a life passed amid the fairest and grandest have gone up into heaven." scenes of nature, far removed from all rude and Hartley was four years old when his father vulgar associations; and in the child himself a removed from the south to Cumberland. Greta vivid fancy, a keen thoughtfulness, a premature Hall, well known as the residence of Robert intelligence, hereditary genius, and a heart to love Southey, was then building by Mr. Jackson, of and feel all pure and holy things. What fair- whom mention is made in Southey's life. It was shining, fruitful, long hours of day, what splen- originally planned that Coleridge should share this dors of sun-setting, might not be foretold from so house with him-an arrangement which had a glorious a morning, which yet was obscured by an great influence on Hartley's childhood, for when uglier "cloud," a baser" rack," than the poet could his father's health obliged him to leave the north, have dreamed of when he sadly pictured degrada- and Southey took his friend's place at Greta Hall, tion! Let no one covet for his darling an exemp- the child was left under the same roof with his tion from the world's common lot of trials—a hot-gifted uncle, and in the direct charge of Mr. Jackhouse cultivation, a shelter from rude winds and son and his housekeeper, who had become devotedly the season's inclemency;-too many immunities from the every-day lot are worse than too few. What was it in the end that this child's life was ushered in by sonnets and fair auguries; that his infant cries were hushed in moonbeams, by nightingale's songs; that his gambols were watched by admiring genius interpreting them into deepest and purest poetry; that wise men pondered over his childish sayings, and speculated on the philosophy in his mysterious doubts and perplexities; that even his dreams were chronicled; and all this not in the inferior vanity which exults in a prodigy, but from motives which have made the observations and deductions really profitable and important? But it is time to turn from generalities to the subject of our memoir-from regrets at the fall from what might have been, to the picture set before us of what was.

Hartley Coleridge, the eldest son of Samuel Taylor Coleridge, was born at Clevedon, on the Bristol Channel, on the 19th September, 1796.

The singularity of his appearance, by which he was distinguished through life, and which, together with the shortness of his stature, (possibly attributable in some measure to his premature birth,) had a marked influence upon the formation of his character, was apparent from the first, though he grew up to be a pretty and engaging child. His father, in the exquisite poem, entitled "Frost at Midnight," addresses him as his "Babe so beautiful."

Dear Babe, that sleepest cradled by my side,
Whose gentle breathings heard in this deep calm,
Fill up the intersperséd vacancies
And momentary pauses of the thought!
My Babe so beautiful! it thrills my heart
With tender gladness, thus to look on thee,
And think that thou shalt learn far other lore
And in far other scenes! For I was reared
In the great city, pent 'mid cloisters dim,
And saw nought lovely, but the sky and stars.
But thou, my Babe, shalt wander like a breeze
By lakes and sandy shores, beneath the crags
Of ancient mountains, and beneath the clouds
Which image in their bulk both lakes and shores
And mountain crags; so shalt thou see and hear
The lovely shapes and sounds intelligible
Of that eternal language which thy God
Utters, who from eternity doth teach
Himself in all, and all things in Himself.
Great universal Teacher! He shall mould
Thy spirit, and by giving make it ask.

attached to him, and we may infer, spoiled him by "unlimited indulgence." That he was a remarkable child at this time, filling those who watched him with mingled love and hope and fear-any thoughts, in fact, but plans of commonplace discipline and good management-we may learn from the beautiful lines of Wordsworth, not too celebrated or well known to have a place when their subject himself is before us.

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TO H. C.-SIX YEARS OLD.

O thou! whose fancies from afar are brought;
Who of thy words dost make a mock apparel,
And fittest to unutterable thought

The breeze-like motion and the self-born carol;
Thou fairy voyager! that dost float
In such clear water that thy boat
May rather seem

To brood on air than on an earthly stream;
Suspended on a stream as clear as sky,
Where earth and heaven do make one imagery;
O blessed Vision! happy Child !
Thou art so exquisitely wild,

I think of thee with many fears

For what may be thy lot in future years.

I thought of times when Pain might be thy guest,
Lord of thy house and hospitality;

And Grief, uneasy lover! never rest,
But when she sat within the touch of thee.
O too industrious folly!

O vain and causeless melancholy!
Nature will either end thee quite ;

Or, lengthening out thy season of delight,
Preserve for thee, by individual right,

A young lamb's heart among the full-grown flocks.
What hast to do with sorrow,

Or, the injuries of to-morrow?

Thou art a dew-drop which the morn brings forth,
Ill fitted to sustain unkindly shocks,

Or to be trailed along the soiling earth;
A gem that glitters while it lives,
And no fore-warning gives;

But at the touch of wrong, without a strife
Slips in a moment out of life.-Wordsworth.

These lines seem to have had an almost haunting effect on those who watched the after life of this 'fairy voyager;" as they saw how the character of his childhood never left him, and what was enchanting in infancy grew into something strange and mis-shapen from being retained beyond the

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