Изображения страниц

heart and die. Then Sin, if she do not die, shall lose halt' her Strength. Until now the frenzy of hereditary fever has raged in the human blood, transmitted from sire to son, and rekindled, in every generation, by fresh draughts52 of liquid flame. When that inward fire shall be extinguished, the heat of passion cannot but grow cool, and war — the drunkenness of nations — perhaps will cease. At least, there will be no war of households. The husband" and wife," drinking deep of peaceful joy, — a calm bliss of temperate affections, — shall pass hand in hand through life, and lie down, not reluctantly, at its protracted close. To them the past will be no turmoil of mad dreams, nor the future an eternity of such moments as follow the delirium of the drunkard. Their dead faces shall express what their spirits were, and are to be, by a lingering smile of memory and hope.

5. Ahem! Dry work, this speechifying; especially to an unpractised orator. I never conceived, till now, what toil the temperance lecturers undergo for my sake. Hereafter they shall have the business to themselves. Do, some kind Christian, pump a stroke or two, just to wet my whistle. Thank you, sir! My dear hearers, when the world shall have been regenerated through my instrumentality, you will collect your useless vats and liquorcasks into one great pile, and make a bonfire in honor of the Town Pump. And when I shall have decayed, like my predecessors, then, if you revere my memory, let a marble fountain, richly sculptured, take my place upon the spot. Such monuments6' should be erected everywhere, and inscribed with the names of the distinguished champions of my cause. Now listen' for something very important is to come next.

6. There are two or three honest friends of mine — and true friends I know they are — who, nevertheless, by their fiery pugnacity in my behalf, do put me in fearful hazard of a broken nose, or even a total overthrow upon the pavement, and the loss of the treasure which I guard. I pray you, gentlemen, let this fault be amended. Is it decent, think you, to get tipsy with zealxI for temperance, and take up the honorable cause of the Town Pump in the style of a toper fighting for his brandybottle? Or can the excellent qualities of cold water be no otherwise exemplified than by plunging, slap-dash, into hot water, and wofully scalding yourselves and other people?

7. Trust me, they may. In the moral warfare which you are to wage, — and, indeed, in the whole conduct of your lives,—you cannot choose a better example than myself, who have never permitted the dust and sultry atmosphere," the turbulent and manifold disquietudes of the world around me, to reach that deep, calm weD of purity, which may be called my soul. And whenever 1 pour out that soul, it is to cool earth's fever, 01 cleanse lti stains.

8. One o'clock! Nay, then, if the dinner-bell begins to speak I may as well hold my peace. Here comes a pretty young gir. of my acquaintance, with a large stone pitcher for me to fill. May she draw a husband, while drawing water, as Rachel did of old. Hold out your vessel, my dear! There it is, full to the brim; so now run home, peeping at your sweet image in the pitcher as you go, and forget not, in a glass of my own liquor, to drink, " Success To The Town Pump." Hawthorne.


1. That, in the formation of language, men have been much influenced by a regard to the nature of the things and actions meant to be represented, is a fact of which every known speech gives proof. In our own language, for instance, who does not perceive in the sound of the words thunder, boundless, terrible, a something appropriate to the sublime ideas intended to be conveyed? In the word crash we hear the very action implied. Imp, elf, — how descriptive of the miniature beings to which we apply them! Fairy, — how light and tripping, just like the fairy herself! — the word, no more than the thing, seems fit to bend the grass-blade, or shake the tear from the blue-eyed flower.

2. Pea is another of those words expressive of light, diminutive objects; any man born without sight and touch, if such ever are, could tell what kind of thing a pea was from the sound of the word alone. Of picturesque words, sylvan and crystal are among our greatest favorites. Sylvan! — what visions of beautiful old sunlit forests, with huntsmen and bugle-horns, arise at the sound! Crystal! — does it not glitter like the very thing it stands for? Yet crystal is not so beautiful as its own adjective. Crystalline ! — why, the whole mind is lightened up with its shine. And this superiority is as it should be; for crystal can only be one comparatively small object, while crystalline may refer to a mass— to a world of crystals.

3. It will be found that natural objects have a larger proportion of expressive names amongst them than any other things. The eagle,—what appropriate daring and sublimity! the dove,— what softness! the linnet,— what fluttering gentleness! "That which men call a rose" would not by any other name, or at least by many other names, swell as sweet. Lily, — what tall, cool, pale, lady-fike beauty have we here! Violet," jessamine, hyucintX, a-nem'one, geranium!—beauties, all of them, to tha ear as well as the eye.

4. The names of the precious stones have also a beauty and magnificence above most common things. Diamond, sapphire, am'ethyst, ber'yl, ruby, ag'ate, pearl, jasper, topaz, garnet, emerald, — what a caskanet of sparkling sounds! Diadem and coronet glitter with gold and precious stones, like the objects they represent. It is almost unnecessary to bring forward instances of the fine things which are represented in English by fine words. Let us take any sublime passage of our poetry, and we shall hardly find a word which is inappropriate in sound. For ex ample:

The cloud-capt towers, and gorgeous palaces,"
The solemn temples, the great globe itself,
Tea," all wiiich it156 inherit, shall dissolve,
And, like the baseless fabric of this vision,
Leave not a rack" behind.

The "gorgeous palaces," "the solemn temples," — how admirably do these lofty sounds harmonize with the objects!

5. The relation between the sound and sense of certain words is to be ascribed to more than one cause. Many are evidently imitative representations of the things, movements, and acts, which are meant to be expressed. Others, in which we only find a general relation, as between a beautiful thing and a beautiful word, a ridiculous thing and a ridiculous word, or a sublime idea and a sublime word, must be attributed to those faculties, native to every mind, which enable us to perceive and enjoy the beautiful, the ridiculous, and the sublime.

6. Doctor Wallis, who wrote upon English grammar in the reign of Charles II., represented it as a peculiar excellence of our language, that, beyond all others, it expressed the nature of the objects which it names, by employing sounds sharper, softer, weaker, stronger, more obscure, or more strid'ulous," according as the idea which is to be suggested requires. He gives various examples. Thus, words formed upon st always denote firmness and strength, analogous to the Latin sto; as, stand, stay, staff, stop, stout, steady, stake stamp, &c.

7. Words beginning with str intimate violent force and energy, as, strive, strength, stress, stripe, &c. Thr implies forcible motion; as, throw, throb, thrust, threaten, thraldom, thrill. Gl, smoothness or silent motion; as, glib, glide. Wr, obliquity or distortion; as, wry, wrest, wrestle, wring, wrong, wrangle, wrath &e. Sw, silent agitation, or lateral motion; as, sway, swing swerve, sweep, swim. SI, a gentle fall or less observable motion: as, slide, slip, sly, slit, slow, slack, sling. Sp, dissipation or ex pansion; as, spread, sprout, sprinkle, split, spill, spring.

8. Terminations in ash indicate something acting nimbly and sharply ; as, crash, dash, rash, flash, lash, slash. Terminations in usk, something acting more obtusely and dully; as, crush, brush, hush, gush, blush. The learned author produces a great many more examples of the same kind, which seem to leave no doubt that the analogies of sound have had some influence on the formation of words. At the same time, in all speculations of this kind, there is so much room for fancy to operate, that they ought to be adopted with much caution in forming any general theory."



1 When I am old — (and, O! how soon
Will life's sweet morning yield to noon,
And noon's broad, fervid, earnest light,
Bo shaded in the solemn night!
Till like a story well-nigh told
Will seem my life, when I am old), —165
When I am old, this breezy earth
Will lose for me its voice of mirth;
The streams will have an undertone
Of sadness not by right their own;
And spring's sweet power in vain unfold
In rosy charms — when I am old.
When I am old I shall not care
To deck with flowers my faded hair;
'T will be no vain desire of mine
In rich and costly dress to shine;
Bright jewels and the brightest gold
Will charm me naught — when [ am old

2. When I am old, my friends will be
Old and infirm and bowed, like me;
Or else, — (their bodies 'neath the sod,
Their spirits dwelling safe with God), —
The old church-bell will long have tolled
Above the rest — when I am old.
When I am old, I'd rather bend
Thus sadly o'er each buried friend
Than see them lose the earnest truth
That marks the friendship of our youth;
'T will be so sad to have them cold
Or strange to me — when I am old!
When 1 am old — O, how it seems
Like the wild lunacy of dreams.

To picture in prophetic rhyme
That dim, far-distant, shadowy time, —
So distant that it seems o'er bold
Even to say, "When I am old."

3. When T am old 1 — Perhaps ere" then
I shall be missed from haunts of men;
Perhaps my dwelling will be found
Beneath the green and quiet mound;
My name by stranger hands enrolled
Among the dead — ere I am old.
Ere I am old 1 — That time is now,
For youth sits lightly on my brow;
My limbs are firm, and strong, and free,
life hath a thousand charms for me;
Charms that will long their influence hold
Within my heart — ere I am old.
Ere I am old, O, let me give
My life to learning how to live!
Then shall I meet with willing heart
An early summons to depart,
Or find my lengthened days consoled
By God's sweet peace — when I am old.



For the strength of the hills we bless thee, our God, our fathers

Thou hast made thy children mighty, by the touch of the mountain sod.

Thou hast fixed our ark of refuge where the spoiler's foot ne'er trod;

For the strength of the hills we bless thee, our God, our fathers'


We are watchers of a beacon whose light must never die;
We are guardians of an altar midst the silence of the sky;
The rocks yield founts of courage, struck forth as by thy rod;
For tha strength of the hills we bless thee, our God, our fathers'


For the dark-resounding caverns, where thy still, small voice is heard;

For the strong pines of the forests, that by thy breath are stirred;
For the storms, on whose free pinions thy spirit walks abroad;
For the strength of the hills, we bless thee, our God, our fathers'

« ПредыдущаяПродолжить »