To exercise their untried faculties)

Descending from the region of the clouds,
And starting from the hollows of the earth
More multitudinous every moment, rend
Their way before them-what a joy to roam
An equal among mightiest energies:
And haply sometimes with articulate voice,
Amid the deafening tumult, scarcely heard
By him that utters it, exclaim aloud,

Be this continued so from day to day,
Nor let the fierce commotion have an end,
Ruinous though it be, from month to month!"
"Yes," said the wanderer, taking from my lips
The strain of transport, "whosoe'er in youth
Has, through ambition of his soul, given way
To such desires, and grasp'd at such delight,
Shall feel congenial stirrings late and long,
In spite of all the weakness that life brings,
Its cares and sorrows; he though taught to own
The tranquillizing power of time, shall wake,
Wake sometimes to a noble restlessness-
Loving the sports which once he gloried in.
"Compatriot, friend, remote are Garry's hills,
The streams far distant of your native glen;
Yet is their form and image here express'd
With brotherly resemblance. Turn your steps
Wherever fancy leads, by day, by night,
Are various engines working, not the same
As those by which your soul in youth was moved,
But by the great Artificer endued

With no inferior power. You dwell alone:
You walk, you live, you speculate alone;
Yet doth remembrance, like a sovereign prince,
For you a stately gallery maintain

Of gay or tragic pictures. You have seen,
Have acted, suffer'd, travell'd far, observed
With no incurious eye; and books are yours,
Within whose silent chambers treasure lies
Preserved from age to age: more precious far
Than that accumulated store of gold
And orient gems, which, for a day of need,
The sultan hides within ancestral tombs
These hoards of truth you can unlock at will:
And music waits upon your skilful touch,

May issue thence, recruited for the tasks
And course of service truth requires from those
Who tend her altars, wait upon her throne,
And guard her fortresses. Who thinks, and feels,
And recognises ever and anon

The breeze of nature stirring in his soul,
Why need such inan go desperately astray,
And nurse the dreadful appetite of death!"
If tired with systems-each in its degree
Substantial, and all crumbling in their turn,—
Let him build systems of his own, and smile
At the fond work, demolish'd with a touch;
If unreligious, let him be at once,
Among ten thousand innocents, enroll'd
A pupil in the many chamber'd school,
Where superstition weaves her airy dreams.
"Life's autumn past, I stand on winter's verge,
And daily lose what I desire to keep;
Yet rather would I instantly decline
To the traditionary sympathies
Of a most rustic ignorance, and take
A fearful apprehension from the owl
Or death-watch, and as readily rejoice,
If two auspicious magpies cross'd my way;
To this would rather bend than see and hear
The repetitions wearisome of sense,
Where soul is dead, and feeling hath no place;
Where knowledge, ill begun in cold remark
On outward things, with formal inference ends;
Or, if the mind turn inward, 'tis perplex'd,
Lost in a gloom of uninspired research;
Meanwhile, the heart within the heart, the seat
Where peace and happy consciousness should dwell,
On its own axis restlessly revolves,

Yet nowhere finds the cheering light of truth.

66

heights

Hears, and forgets his purpose; furnish'd thus, How can you droop, if willing to be raised?

"A piteous lot it were to flee from manYet not rejoice in nature. He-whose hours Are by domestic pleasures uncaress'd And unenliven'd; who exists whole years Apart from benefits received or done 'Mid the transactions of the bustling crowd; Who neither hears, nor feels a wish to hear, Of the world's interests-such a one hath need Of a quick fancy, and an active heart,

That, for the day's consumption, books may yield A not unwholesome food, and earth and air Supply his morbid humour with delight.

Tidings of joy and love. From these pure heights (Whether of actual vision, sensible

To sight and feeling, or that in this sort
Have condescendingly been shadowed forth
Communications spiritually maintain❜d,
And intuitions moral and divine)

Fell human kind-to banishment condemn'd
That flowing years repeal'd not; and distress
And grief spread wide; but man escaped the doom
Of destitution; solitude was not.

Jehovah-shapeless Power above all powers,
Single and one, the omnipresent God,

By vocal utterance, or blaze of light,
Or cloud of darkness, localized in heaven;
On earth enshrined within the wandering ark;

And easy contemplation,-gay parterres, And labyrinthine walks, her sunny glades And shady groves for recreation framed ; These may he range, if willing to partake Their soft indulgences, and in due time

Between the cherubim, on the chosen race Shower'd miracles, and ceased not to dispense Judgments, that fill'd the land from age to age With hope, and love, and gratitude, and fear; And with amazement smote: thereby t' assert

His scorn'd, or unacknowledged sovereignty.
And when the One, ineffable of name,
Of nature indivisible, withdrew
From mortal adoration or regard,
Not then was deity ingulf'd, nor man,

The rational creature, left, to feel the weight
Of his own reason, without sense or thought,
Of higher reason and a purer will,

To benefit and bless, through mightier power;
Whether the Persian-zealous to reject
Altar and image, and the inclusive walls
And roofs of temples built by human hands-
To loftiest heights ascending from their tops,
With myrtle-wreath'd tiara on his brow,
Presented sacrifice to moon and stars,
And to the winds and mother elements,
And the whole circle of the heavens, for him
A sensitive existence, and a God,
With lifted hands invoked, and songs of praise:
Or, less reluctantly to bonds of sense
Yielding his soul, the Babylonian framed
For influence undefined a personal shape;
And, from the plain, with toil immense, uprear'd
Tower eight times planted on the top of tower;
That Belus, nightly to his splendid couch
Descending, there might rest; upon that height
Pure and serene, diffused-to overlook
Winding Euphrates, and the city vast
Of his devoted worshippers, far-stretch'd,
With grove, and field, and garden, interspersed ;
Their town, and foodful region for support
Against the pressure of beleaguring war.
"Chaldean shepherds, ranging trackless fields,
Beneath the concave of unclouded skies
Spread like a sea, in boundless solitude,
Look'd on the polar star, as on a guide
And guardian of their course, that never closed
His steadfast eye. The planetary five
With a submissive reverence they beheld:
Watch'd, from the centre of their sleeping flocks
Those radiant Mercuries, that seem to move
Carrying through ether, in perpetual round,
Decrees and resolutions of the gods;
And, by their aspects, signifying works
Of dim futurity, to man reveal'd.
The imaginative faculty was lord
Of observations natural; and, thus

Led on, those shepherds made report of stars
In set rotation passing to and fro,
Between the orbs of our apparent sphere
And its invisible counterpart, adorn'd
With answering constellations, under earth,
Removed from all approach of living sight,
But present to the dead; who, so they deem'd,
Like those celestial messengers beheld
All accidents, and judges were of all.

"The lively Grecian, in a land of hills, Rivers, and fertile plains, and sounding shores, Under a cope of variegated sky,

Could find commodious place for every god,
Promptly received, as prodigally brought,
From the surrounding countries-at the choice
Of all adventurers. With unrivall❜d skill,
As nicest observation furnish'd hints
For studious fancy, did his hand bestow
On fluent operations a fix'd shape;

Metal or stone, idolatrously served,
And yet triumphant o'er this pompous show
Of art, this palpable array of sense,
On every side encounter'd; in despite
Of the gross fictions chanted in the streets
By wandering rhapsodists; and in contempt
Of doubt and bold denial hourly urged
Amid the wrangling schools-a SPIRIT hung,
Beautiful region! o'er thy towns and farms,
Statues and temples, and memorial tombs ;
And emanations were perceived; and acts
Of immortality, in nature's course,
Exemplified by mysteries, that were felt
As bonds, on grave philosopher imposed
And armed warrior; and in every grove
A gay or pensive tenderness prevail'd,
When piety more awful had relax'd.
Take, running river, take these locks of mine'-
Thus would the votary say-this sever'd hair,
My vow fulfilling, do I here present,
Thankful for my beloved child's return.
Thy banks, Cephisus, he again hath trod,
Thy murmurs heard; and drunk the crystal lymph
With which thou dost refresh the thirsty lip,
And moisten all day long these flowery fields!"
And doubtless, sometimes, when the hair was shed
Upon the flowing stream, a thought arose
Of life continuous, being unimpair'd:
That hath been, is, and where it was and is
There shall endure,-existence unexposed
To the blind walk of mortal accident;
From dimunitions safe and weakening age;
While man grows old, and dwindles, and decays;
And countless generations of mankind
Depart; and leave no vestige where they trod.
"We live by admiration, hope, and love;
And, e'en as these are well and wisely fix'd,
In dignity of being we ascend.

But what is error?"-" Answer he who can!"
The skeptic somewhat haughtily exclaim'd:
"Love, hope, and admiration-are they not
Mad fancy's favourite vassals? Does not life
Use them, full oft, as pioneers to ruin,
Guides to destruction? Is it well to trust
Imagination's light when reason's fails,
Th' unguarded taper where the guarded faints?
Stoop from those heights, and soberly declare
What error is; and, of our errors, which
Doth most debase the mind; the genuine seats
Of power, where are they? Who shall regulate,
With truth, the scale of intellectual rank!"
"Methinks," persuasively the sage replied,
"That for this arduous office you possess
Some rare advantages. Your early days
A grateful recollection must supply
Of much exalted good by Heaven vouchsafed
To dignify the humblest state. Your voice
Hath, in my hearing, often testified

That poor men's children, they, and they alone,
By their condition taught, can understand
The wisdom of the prayer that daily asks
For daily bread. A consciousness is yours
How feelingly religion may be learn'd
In smoky cabins, from a mother's tongue-
Heard while the dwelling vibrates to the din
Of the contiguous torrent, gathering strength

At every moment, and, with strength, increase
of fury; or, while snow is at the door,
Assaulting and defending, and the wind,
A sightless labourer, whistles at his work-
Fearful, but resignation tempers fear,
And piety is sweet to infant minds.

The shepherd lad, who in the sunshine carves,
On the green turf, a dial, to divide
The silent hours; and who to that report
Can portion out his pleasures, and adapt
His round of pastoral duties, is not left
With less intelligence for moral things
of gravest import. Early he perceives,
Within himself, a measure and a rule,
Which to the sun of truth he can apply,
That shines for him, and shines for all mankind.
Experience daily fixing his regards

On nature's wants, he knows how few they are,
And where they lie, how answer'd and appeased.
This knowledge ample recompense affords
For manifold privations; he refers

His notions to this standard, on this rock
Rests his desires; and hence, in after life,
Soul-strengthening patience, and sublime content.
Imagination-not permitted here

To waste her powers, as in the worldling's mind,
On fickle pleasures, and superfluous cares
And trivial ostentation-is left free
And puissant to range the solemn walks
Of time and nature, girded by a zone
That, while it binds, invigorates and supports.
Acknowledge, then, that whether by the side
Of his poor hut, or on the mountain top,
Or in the cultured field, a man so bred
(Take from him what you will upon the score
Of ignorance or illusion) lives and breathes
For noble purposes of mind: his heart
Beats to the heroic song of ancient days;
His eye distinguishes, his soul creates.
And those illusions, which excite the scorn
Or move the pity of unthinking minds,
Are they not mainly outward ministers
Of inward conscience? with whose service charged
They came and go, appear'd and disappear,
Diverting evil purposes, remorse
Awakening, chastening an intemperate grief
Or pride of heart abating: and, whene'er
For less important ends those phantoms move
Who would forbid them, if their presence serve
Among wild mountains and unpeopled heaths,
Filling a space, else vacant, to exalt

The forms of nature, and enlarge her powers?
"Once more to distant ages of the world
Let us revert, and place before our thoughts
The face which rural solitude might wear
To th' unenlighten'd swains of pagan Greece.
In that fair clime, the lonely herdsman, stretch'd
On the soft grass through half a summer's day,
With music lull'd his indolent repose:
And in some fit of weariness, if he,
When his own breath was silent, chanced to hear
A distant strain, far sweeter than the sounds
Which his poor skill could make, his fancy fetch'd,
E'en from the blazing chariot of the sun
A beardless youth, who touch'd a golden lute,
And fill'd th' illumined groves with ravishment.

Towards the crescent moon, with grateful heart
Call'd on the lovely wanderer who bestow'd
That timely light, to share his joyous sport:
And hence, a beaming goddess with her nymphs,
Across the lawn and through the darksome grove
(Not unaccompanied with tuneful notes

By echo multiplied from rock or cave)

Swept in the storm of chase, as moon and stars
Glance rapidly along the clouded heaven,
When winds are blowing strong. The traveller
slaked

His thirst from rill or gushing fount, and thank'd
The naiad. Sunbeams, upon distant hills
Gliding apace, with shadows in their train,
Might, with small help from fancy, be transform'd
Into fleet oreads sporting visibly.

The zephyrs, fanning as they pass'd, their wings,
Lack'd not, for love, fair objects whom they woo'd
With gentle whisper. Wither'd boughs grotesque,
Stripp'd of their leaves and twigs by hoary age,

From depth of shaggy covert peeping forth
In the low vale, or on steep mountain side;
And, sometimes, intermix'd with stirring horns
Of the live deer, or goat's depending beard-
These were the lurking satyrs, a wild brood
Of gamesome deities; or Pan himself,
The simple shepherd's awe-inspiring god!"
As this apt strain proceeded, I could mark
Its kindly influence, o'er the yielding brow
Of our companion, gradually diffused
While, listening he had paced the noiseless turf,
Like one whose untired ear a murmuring stream
Detains; but tempted now to interpose,
He with a smile exclaim'd-

""Tis well you speak
At a safe distance from our native land,
And from the mansions where our youth was taught.
The true descendants of those godly men
Who swept from Scotland, in a flame of zeal,
Shrine, altar, image, and the massy piles
That harbour'd them, the souls retaining yet
The churlish features of that after race
Who fled to caves, and woods, and naked rocks,
In deadly scorn of superstitious rites,

Or what their scruples construed to be such-
How, think you, would they tolerate this scheme
Of fine propensities, that tends, if urged
Far as it might be urged, to sow afresh
The weeds of Roman phantasy, in vain
Uprooted; would re-consecrate our wells
To good Saint Fillan and to fair Saint Anne;
And from long banishment recall Saint Giles,
To watch again with tutelary love

O'er stately Edinborough throned on crags ?
A blessed restoration, to behold
The patron, on the shoulders of his priests,
Once more parading through her crowded streets;
Now simply guarded by the sober powers
Of science, and philosophy, and sense!"

This answer follow'd. "You have turn'd my thoughts

Upon our brave progenitors, who rose
Against idolatry with warlike mind,
And shrunk from vain observances, to lurk
In caves, and woods, and under dismal rocks,